by James McCann
Alix cursed aloud as she watched Shay strut away. Plainly he was enjoying ruining her life.
Then she woke.
Alix relaxed. The display on her clock read 6:15 a.m. It was only a couple of hours since she had returned to her room. As dawn broke through her open window, the melodies of songbirds from the birdhouse her father had built on the gazebo danced in her ears. The chill wind blew into her room. She pulled her comforter closer around herself.
She sank deep into her mattress and battled her anger with thoughts of her magical time with Rellik. They had cuddled in his loft on wooden crates that he used as a makeshift bed. She had tried to persuade him to come into her bedroom, but he had thought it imprudent, with her father in the adjoining room.
“It would not be principled to insult a man in that way,” he had said to her. His principles had made her laugh and love him that much more. It wasn’t only the love they had found that she thought about; it was also the tears she had seen leave his dark emerald eyes. They made him seem somehow vulnerable. The patter of his rhythmic heartbeat had made her smile.
“Do you want to hear something weird?” she had asked.
He’d kissed her and smiled, the tender touch masking the raspy growl that once made her fear him. “I will listen to whatever you wish to tell me.”
“Well, I’ve been having these flashes. Kind of like blackouts, I guess. It’s like I’m another person and I’ve met this man.” She rolled away and stared at the wall, snuggling close and holding his hand in hers. “He looks just like you.”
“How flattering.” He sighed and kissed the nape of her neck. She turned back to him, and when their eyes met he caressed her cheek. “Are you afraid that what you feel is false?”
“No.”
“Then what is it? I pray you will tell me.”
“There’s so much to you, and yet I know nothing about you.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Where you come from, who your family is.” She paused, and then whispered: “How you know Shay.”
“I was born in Ireland. My family–well, they are dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“There is no need to be; we were not close. As for Shay, I guess you could say we were rivals once. To him, your heart was but a game.”
“And to you?”
He paused and rose from the bed. Alix sat, watching him rummage through his belongings. He took out a palm-sized, intricately carved wooden box and walked back to her.
“You say you loved me before we met. Then you should believe that I came to you by following an ache in my heart. Only when I am with you does that pain heal.”
He opened the box and took out a leather ring. “I want you to wear this, but only when you feel your soul ache for me as mine does for you.”
Alix kissed him, but put the ring into her pocket. His eyes turned sad and she said, “I do love you, but things don’t seem–I don’t know–complete. I want to wear it, but only when things feel complete.”
. . . How she would treasure this memory. Rellik cared for her so much, and she just as much for him. But as her thoughts returned to her nightmare, or rather to the message scribbled in blood, she wondered what she should do. And whether she should tell Rellik about it.
Rellik stood poised over the sink as if he might be sick. He hadn’t slept since Alix left. Grabbing the sink by its edges, he glared into the broken mirror. He scowled into the looking glass, not at his reflection but past it, and growled low.
Rancor ascended the steep hill, sniffing the scent of venison cooking. He knew it was from a meal Rafgard prepared, undoubtedly not the last of the day. When he neared the crest he saw he had indeed been correct. His friend was sitting before a dying fire looking at a well-roasted leg of deer.
“Rafgard!” Rancor yelled, to divert his tutor’s attention from the food.
“You are late!”
Rancor ran to sit beside him. Rising to one knee, he grabbed him by both shoulders. First he said nothing, but then: “I know who the vampyre is!”
“Shay Jackson, your merchant friend,” Rafgard replied nonchalantly, catching his pupil off-guard.
“Ya knew? Why noy tell me?”
“Would you have believed me?”
Rafgard gave Rancor a look that told him he was right. Rancor would not have believed him, and things had to happen as they did. At least, Rafgard had prepared him.
“Woy can kill ’im! ’E fought ma in mortal combat!”
“You did not challenge him?” The question sounded rhetorical, as though he knew. The tutor shook Rancor’s grip from his shoulders and took the burning meat from the fire. “Even if you hadn’t, he is a vampyre. Shay is bound by no code of honor. You, however, can murder only if you catch him in an act of evil, or are challenged.”
Rancor rose slowly, and walked to the hut. He leaned against the door, rubbed his stubbled chin, and whispered, “What do I do?”
“Learn this lesson, Rancor. This is the most important: when a human shares love with a Wulfsign, she will be reborn one millennium after her first birth. Should that love be rekindled, both mortal and immortal will grow old and die together.”
Rancor stood before his teacher, uncertain what to say. Indeed, his life had made a turn for the better–since the future held in store for him Ariana’s love.
“Damn you, Shay,” Rellik growled with hatred. “Damn you for making my life hell.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Rellik was glad that Friday night had finally come. He hated this school business, and sighed with relief that he would no longer have to put up a front. But without an education, what kind of mortal life could he offer Alix? He laughed, hearing Rafgard’s words ramble within his head. How he missed that man’s friendship, and how he yearned to go to the Rafgard of today to tell him about the man he would one day become. Yet that was one thing he could never do.
Rellik paced back and forth in his loft. He hoped the patter his steps made would not draw the attention of Alix or her father. Beside a half-finished portrait rested his Wulfsign sword; its metal hilt shimmered as if it calling for him to wield it. He recalled the Alsandair blade he’d owned before this sword, the men he’d killed with it, and the hatred for himself for yielding to it.
He grabbed the weapon by its hilt and raised it to his nose. Closing his eyes, he breathed the scent of death. Slowly he slid the sword from its sheath. He held it with both hands, bent one elbow slightly more than the other, clenched his teeth and bared them, growling low and throaty. His eyes turned crimson as he thought of the lessons taught by his evil clan. They returned like thunder, as if the centuries spent forgetting them had just been ignorant denial.
Rellik dropped the sword and let it clang, no longer caring whom he might disturb. He buried his face in his palms, shedding tears because of how hopeless, not helpless, he felt at stopping Shay’s evil. He considered how much Rancor hated men who cried, and he realized he was no longer that person. Rellik Faolchú did not fight every challenge offered. Rather, he sought for a way to resolve each one peacefully.
Perhaps it was the vampyres with whom he had spent most of the last millennium training who had given him this trait. They were different from Shay. They spoke about philosophy and values. But they were still vampyres, Rellik reminded himself. Principled or not, vampyres always gave in to their innermost selfish needs.
His mind returned to the symbols found at the previous night’s murder scene. The authorities had somehow missed them. Meán oíche, reilig, amárach, and Wulfsign. Rellik decided that, even if it made him no better than Shay, he would meet the challenge and avenge Fred.
He wrapped the sword in a tarp and left for the school. He had to hurry to hide the blade in his locker if he was going to be on time to accompany Alix to her dance.
It was too bad he’d have to leave the dance early.
Alix examined herself in the mirror to see if the new blue dress she had bought was as lovely a fit at home as it had
been at the store. She knew it was missing only one thing. She solved that by tying a blue ribbon her mother had given her into her hair.
Too often tears had unexpectedly streamed down her cheeks, smudging all the make-up she wore. So, she decided it best not to wear any make-up. It was hard not to keep thinking of the loved ones she had lost: her mother, Betty and now Fred.
She knew Fred was among the dead. She knew it had been him she had seen in her dream–and she knew Shay was responsible.
She planned to meet the challenge at the graveyard with her father’s loaded rifle.
Rellik would just have to understand her having to leave the dance early.
Even with all the strange happenings over the past week, the dance still had a great turnout. Buses brought in teens from schools all around the prairies. Since very few were from Minitaw, not many felt affected by the deaths of the past few days.
Alix and Rellik stood beside a wall, watching the dance take place without them. Alix said, “This seemed like a much better idea on Tuesday.” She pulled Rellik close.
“I apologize that my presence has driven your friends away.”
“Don’t. We weren’t getting along anyway. I sure wish Fred was here.”
“As do I,” Rellik growled, “but it looks as though we have company of a different sort.”
Alix glanced over her shoulder and saw Kim walking toward them with her brother.
“Hey, Blondie, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Last-minute plans.”
“Well, come on, girl, we’re missing the dance!”
Kim grabbed Alix’s arm and pulled her to the dance floor, where they joined a group of girls. Rellik, still snug against the wall, kept his eyes locked on her.
“What is it about this music that makes people act as if they are possessed?” he asked.
Alix caught him watching. She moved her slender body in such a way that it aroused him.
“Perhaps I can see its appeal,” he acknowledged.
“That giant guy’s the killer, isn’t he?” Derrick asked him. “You’ve been trying to stop him from killing people.”
Rellik refused to look at Derrick. After a long moment he turned to face the Native with fiery eyes. When he started to speak, a low growl emanated from his throat.
“It isn’t that simple.”
“You aren’t a murderer, right?”
“Do you ask simply because I am not the same as you? I am what I am by birth, just as you are what you are by birth. There is no more truth to the rumors surrounding my kind than those that surround yours. I would think that you, above anyone, would understand that.”
“I won’t tell anyone what I know. I owe you my life.”
“You desire peace as much as I. But you are lost in an age-old battle that can yet be won,” Rellik said.
Derrick turned on him and shouted, “What do you know about it!”
Rellik stepped forward, and immediately Derrick backed off.
“Because I live it every day! The difference between you and me is that you have the chance to bring peace to your people.” Rellik added, more quietly, “But do you have the courage?”
“What do you know of courage? With your power you don’t need to be afraid.”
“I must hide! You could do anything. You could even become Chief if you wished.”
“Who would vote for me?”
“I would vote for any man dedicated to peace. A shame we are not of the same clan.”
“It’s a little strange, knowing . . .”
“What I am? Is that more important than who I am?”
“No, and that’s why I’m here. I want you to know that if you need a friend, you got one.”
Rellik smiled. “Thank you.”
The music slowed and a softer, slower song played. The girls on the dance floor all broke away from one another, snagging guys who stood along the walls. Rellik was thankful for the relief to his ears, but when Alix approached smiling, he wondered why. He hoped she didn’t intend to ask him to dance. She wrapped her arms around him and he looked at the clock. It was eleven-fifteen.
“Want to dance?” She kissed his trembling lips.
“I cannot . . . I have never.” Rellik closed his eyes and held her to him.
“Then let me teach you. Just sway and move your feet.” She moved him out to the dance floor. “You’re doing it.”
Rellik never wanted to let her go. He wondered if he should tell her about Shay, but feared it would give away his secret. When he held her closer, and she looked into his emerald eyes, he knew that she sensed something was wrong. She caressed his lips with her fingers.
Rellik stared deeply into her eyes and . . .
. . . after saying goodbye to his mentor and friend, Rancor left the place where his clandestine shapeshifting lessons had been taking place. Already missing the thought of coming to these woods to speak with Rafgard, he paused a moment to take one last breath of the pollen-laden wind. He wondered why Rafgard had found it so important to tell him that Ariana would return on her thousandth birthday. She was young yet. She would live at least a few decades more. Why, then, would learning about her return in a thousand years be more important than learning how to kill a vampyre?
Rancor opened his eyes. He broke into a run. He rushed back to where he had left Ariana with the wagon, praying for her safety and cursing himself for ever leaving her alone!
“You are my prayer answered,” Rellik whispered into her ear. Holding her close, he breathed the scent of perfume in much the same way he had that of the woods so long ago. The last few days had seemed as long as the past millennium, and Rellik was thankful for this miracle.
“You’ll love me forever?” she asked.
“I’ll love you even when forever ends.”
“I have to go, to make sure that Sam is okay,” Alix said to him as she rested her head on his chest.
Rellik half-smiled and listened to her heart beat fast. He knew she was lying, but didn’t know why. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was nearly midnight. Time was at hand to meet Shay. He wanted to end this war with the creature whose heart knew only evil. And so he ignored Alix’s lie.
“We will meet up later?” she asked, her voice prompting him for an answer.
“Yes. We will meet up tonight, in my loft.”
Alix gave him a kiss before she walked out of the gym.
Rellik waited until he was sure she was gone before running to his locker for his sword. Once he was away from the school and out of sight, he slipped into wolf form and headed for the graveyard.
The events of the past few days compounded in Alix’s thoughts, creating an unbearable weight. She had hoped the crisp, heavy air outside might calm her busy mind. But rather than relax, the night seemed to be a partner in creating confusion. She walked towards home, thinking about Sam’s rifle above the mantle. Am I ready to kill Shay?
Alix reached into her purse. She searched for the ring. I have never loved anyone but you, Rellik had told her. She bit her lip, sighed and knew by the way her heart needed him that what he had said was true. She placed the ring back into her purse. More than anything, she needed the chance at a happy life with him–and that could not happen without vengeance for the death of her friends.
Opening the door to her home, Alix did not notice the rusted late-model Chevy van parked in front.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The full moon stared down upon the graveyard, calling out to her sisters, the stars, so that they too might rejoice in this battle of the sky. A tapestry of Northern Lights joined the celestial dominion, and together the active night unclothed much light.
Shay Jackson, sitting atop the crypt marked Whittaker Orphans, held in his eyes a promise of death. A look so stern that not even a sudden brisk wind swayed him from his post. Nor did the scent of a white dire wolf as it ran up the northern slope.
He waited patiently, keeping his back to the canine as it transformed into Rellik Faolchú. Shay w
aved his hands and ignited lamps around the graveyard with a single thought.
The Wulfsign stood no more than a few feet away, and his angry growls alone should have made the vamp feel supreme.
But Shay felt as if he’d lost. He had turned to mist, surrounding the wagon where Rancor held Ariana. He was unsure why he’d stayed to watch. He’d destroyed Ariana, the one thing in life the Wulfsign cherished most. Or rather, the one thing he had cursed.
Ariana opened her eyes wide enough that they threatened to swallow whatever they beheld. She screamed as her two eye teeth grew into long fangs and her once-dark complexion bled away all its color.
“What has happened to me?” she cried.
Rancor held her to him and wept. He stroked her long hair, smelled her perfumed skin and kissed her cheek.
“I still love ya,” he whispered.
She pushed him back. Her eyes looked empty. Goose pimples spread over her skin. “I . . . feel . . . hungry . . .” she told him. But he held her tightly and would not let go.
“Woy find a cure, Ariana, we will!”
“For what? I feel alive for the first time!” She smiled, and shoved him hard, sending him flying back onto the floor of the wagon. “And you, my love, will be my first meal!”
As Ariana flew at him, Rancor broke a long stake from the wooden wagon. “Woy you kill me, ta man ya love?”
At that moment Rancor knew that if he did not kill her, she would live her life as a demon. If he killed her out of mercy, and not hatred, it was not murder. It was within his honor as a Wulfsign to do so.
When she was upon him, he grabbed her throat and held the weapon against her chest.
“Forgive ma,” he whispered, and plunged it through her heart.
And then Shay watched the Wulfsign defeat him. Not one tear left Rancor’s dark, sunken eyes. The vampyre now understood what it was that this werewulf treasured most: honor. He had assumed it was love, that the woman was his world; but he was wrong. Unless he made Rancor betray his principles, he would never best him. If only he’d known, it could have been so easy.
