by Casey Lane
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Love and Werewolves
A vampire and a werewolf, both exiles, find love in 1980 America.
Alanna, a vampire, has lived on her own in a cabin in the woods for 150 years. She prefers her solitude.
One day an injured werewolf, Valko, lands on her doorstep. As she nurses him back to health she finds herself falling in love.
But there are forces out there working against them, and secrets that could tear their world apart…
* * *
This paranormal romance is part of the Vampire Inheritance Saga universe, though you don’t have to have read any of those to enjoy this as this novel is a prequel.
Chapter One
1819
When Randall looked up into her eyes and begged her not to kill him, she felt something. It wasn’t pity or remorse. She wanted him dead. He deserved to die. What was more, she enjoyed doing it.
I feel pleasure.
“You’re not suffering enough,” Alanna whispered.
She sunk her fingernails into his neck, and cut the carotid artery. Blood drenched her face, and she moved her tongue around, to taste the fear in his life essence. She liked that he was terrified.
“Please,” he begged. He was pathetic. An abomination. “I’m sorry.”
She smiled; a single drop of blood dripped from her left canine. She’d never felt so alive than in this blissful moment of savagery. Was this what the vampires of old had felt before they’d been neutered by societal laws? Was this what it was to truly be a vampire?
I am death incarnate.
She dipped her head down and fed and fed until there wasn’t a drop of blood left in his body. The man who had raped her sister was a bony husk, barely human. She tore his body in two, and tossed the remnants into the river. He floated away like the scum he was.
She wiped her lips, feeling satiated. Yet she wanted more. She’d had a taste of murder and fear soaked blood. Why should she give up now? She was a vampire. Vampires were ancient. They fed on blood, the blood of humans. Humans were insects.
“Alanna!”
She sat up, her simple woolen dress so seeped through with blood that its original color was unrecognizable. Her sister, Harriet, was standing by the copse of oak trees near the bend in the river, her mouth wide open in revulsion, and shaking her head in disappointment.
“What did you do?” Harriet cried.
The wind ruffled her sister’s shaved head. When she’d been raped, she’d been so distraught that she’d used a razor to sever her crisp, golden hair. She was thin now; a nervous, anxious ghost. The beautiful sister who’d led her on adventures across the Yorkshire moors was gone. Hopefully Randall’s death could bring the spark back.
“I did this for you,” Alanna declared, smiling her blood-smeared smile. “He was going to get away with it.”
“We don’t know that,” Harriet protested.
Alanna shook her head. “He is the mayor’s son, and the mayor is the most powerful witch in England. Don’t be so naïve, Harriet. He never would’ve been convicted. You know that as well as I do. The politics of both the human and supernatural worlds keep people like that in power, people who can do what they want and get away with it.”
Harriet leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree, and wept. Alanna came towards her, but her sister held her hands out, afraid. Her hands were trembling.
“I would never hurt you,” said Alanna.
“The mayor contacted the Fire Side Witches in Alaska,” Harriet explained. “We were never going to put him on trial. They were.”
“They would never have treated him like they should! All these upper witches stick together.”
Harriet shook her head. “Oh Alanna.”
She turned back to the river, seeing nothing but the water. Randall’s remains had gone. The blood on the bank was still there, still staining the grass red, a testament to her murder.
He deserved it.
I liked killing him.
But he deserved it.
She felt Harriet’s hand on her shoulder.
“We can cover this up,” said Harriet. She sounded desperate. “We can say he ran away to escape justice.”
“Nobody escapes justice,” said Alanna bitterly. “Nobody.”
Alanna charged past her, making her way through the apple orchard. The spring air charged her, but the blood that clung to her nostrils drove her onwards. There were plenty of people in her pitiful town who’d escaped justice over the years. It was time they got what was coming to them.
Alanna screamed as her body twisted and coiled. She collapsed onto the bloody floor, amid the shredded bodies of her victims. It was the worst agony she’d ever experienced in her life.
“You can’t do this!” she wailed.
The mayor distorted the spell that had claimed her, and snapped more of her bones. The pain was considerable. A part of her considered that it was worth it. She’d massacred the five people in the village’s tiny jail cell in one minute flat. Their victims had gotten justice, and Alanna had reveled in the exquisite torture.
Now she felt sick.
As the mayor’s spell crushed her bones and twisted her sinews, she felt every pain as a reminder of the horrors she’d committed. She didn’t regret Randall. She’d never regret Randall. But she did regret the people she’d killed in the jail cell. They were petty thieves, not murderers or rapists. They hadn’t deserved this.
Just kill me already. Please.
Mayor Timothy East was a stout man in his late fifties, thinning hair, and a pale face. He was still a formidable man, and a powerful enough witch to even take her down. When he stood over her, Alanna could only imagine what he would do next.
“It didn’t have to end like this,” he said sadly. He was weeping, shedding tears for his contemptible excuse for a son. “I was going to sort my son out! You only had to wait!”
She heard footsteps. Harriet and their mother, Alice, entered. Their cries of horror would haunt Alanna’s nightmares forever.
“What has she done?” Alice cried.
“I tried to stop her,” Harriet protested.
She dimly felt her mother’s gentle hand stroke her brow. Alanna felt calm, serene, even as the pain overwhelmed her.
I love you, Mother.
“I knew this new world would be too much for you,” said her mother quietly. She swiped her long white hair from her face, and held back the tears. Alanna felt her voice enter her mind. “Witches that are turned into vampires always have the most trouble keeping sane. I thought we could handle it.”
“I was handling it. I was coping. But I couldn’t allow Randall to get away with it!”
“And what about these people?” Alice said, as she indicated the blood and gore around them. “They did nothing but steal a cow or someone’s bread. They didn’t deserve this.”
“I know that now.”
“You know what’s going to happen next.”
“Please. Just kill me.”
Alice stood up and walked away, followed by Harriet. The mayor sighed regretfully and performed another spell. Alanna sank into a blissful sleep, accompanied by the dripping blood of her victims.
“You are hereby exiled from the Pod’s Moore supernatural community,” the mayor announced. His voice echoed around the stinking, muddy town square, amplified by a spell. His voice was nasally from crying over the loss of his son. “You have one hour to gather your belongings and leave. If you haven’t left by then, we will be forced to take drastic
action.”
The entire supernatural element of Pod’s Moore watched Alanna from the crowd. The stage felt hollow under her, as if her entire world was disintegrating. Exile was the worst punishment she could’ve received. She’d been expecting it, but it still came as a blow.
“I can’t be exiled,” Alanna protested.
The mayor ignored her. His wife, Millicent, stood beside him, proud and regal, and engulfed in grief. The way she stared at Alanna gave her the chills. Hers was a hatred that she’d never felt before. It made her own for Randall seem tame in comparison.
She would rend me in two if she could.
Also on the stage was Circe, the leader of the Fire Side Witches. While she was technically a vampire, Alanna had been born a witch, so Circe had to be there to oversee the trial.
I can’t read Circe. She seems entirely unemotional.
Most of the town were witches, or humans who didn’t know that the supernatural lived among them. There were a few vampires, and a werewolf family, but that was it, though they had the occasional Fey envoy. Pod’s Mill was famous throughout the world for its witchcraft. They even had a small school that was originally built by Morgan Le Fey.
“We could have forgiven you for murdering Randall,” said the mayor. His wife gave him a scabrous look. “But you went on a murderous rampage that could’ve revealed our presence to the country. You put us all at risk and you did it because you enjoyed it.”
I can’t argue with that.
“Do you have anything to say?” the mayor asked.
“I lost control,” said Alanna, addressing the people. She felt contrite, and so hoped they could see that. “You know how hard I’ve struggled. Witches who become vampires are rare, and it’s harder for them. When I thought that Randall wasn’t going to be tried I became angry, and… and the bloodlust and superiority I felt after killing him made me into a monster. But I’ve learned my lesson now. I can control myself.”
She searched the faces in the crowd, rooting out people who knew her, people who could speak up for her. The man she was courting, Raymond, turned his back on her. Her best friend, Lily, turned her back on her. Even people she didn’t know turned their back. They all turned.
Guilty.
“The people have spoken,” said Circe.
The look the ancient witch gave Alanna was scathing.
“What about my family?” Alanna asked.
Her family was nowhere to be seen. In a way she was glad. It would’ve been torturous for them to see her sentenced.
But I need them. I really need them.
“You can say goodbye to your family, but after that you must leave and you can never see them again,” said Millicent with a wicked grin. Her smugness made Alanna’s blood boil. “It’s the least you deserve.”
The mayor gave his wife an exasperated look before saying, “You have one hour. Make the most of it.”
Alanna walked away, her bones still aching, despite being healed before the so-called trial. She caught Millicent staring at her as she left. The old woman shook her head and she felt a chill tickle her spine. Witches held grudges. She had to be careful during her exile.
“Wait for me,” Circe called.
The ancient witch caught up with Alanna. She felt a little intimidated to be talking to the woman. Who was she to attract the attention of someone so powerful?
“What do you need?” Alanna asked.
Circe studied her carefully for a second before saying, “This is not the end. This is the beginning of something wonderful.”
The elder witch bowed politely and walked away. With those strange, though ominous words, vanishing from her mind, Alanna went to find her family and say goodbye.
“You can’t come in,” said her mother.
Alanna stared down at the pile of clothes on the muddy ground in front of her. She didn’t have any other belongings apart from the clothes she’d made herself. She thought she’d have time to collect things as she grew older. Now she never would, or at least not in the place of her birth.
“Where’s Father?” Alanna asked.
“He’s wishing you were never born.” Her mother looked at the ground, as if the very act of staring at her own daughter made her feel sick. “And so do I. Just go.”
“I’m going into exile. I’m never coming back.”
“You were dead to us the moment you decided to become a vampire. Just go.”
She closed the door and bolted it. Alanna could hear her mother and sister weeping inside. She banged on the door, desperate to see them one last time.
“Please!” she begged. “Let me in!”
She fanged out and kicked the door in, using all her vampire strength. She walked in, and found her family huddled by the back door. They were terrified of her.
They think I’m going to hurt them.
She held her hands out in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Please,” Harriet begged. “Just go.”
“I’m not going to…”
Her father uttered a spell. Alanna found herself thrown outside, rolling through the mud like a pig. Her head hit a fence post, and started to bleed from a gash on her scalp. The whole village was watching. Some were even laughing. They were reveling in her misery.
I should have killed them all.
They’re peasants.
They’re stupid, pathetic, filthy peasants.
Alanna climbed to her feet, and brushed the dirt from her dress. She held her head high, trying to cling to as much dignity as possible. Perhaps it was best she was to leave. They hadn’t known what to do with her. Until her, they didn’t think it was possible for a witch to be turned into a vampire. They were wary of her. They were scared of her.
They’re peasants. They’re nothing.
But they’re all I have.
She looked back at her home. Her sister was staring from the window, eyes full of tears. Harriet smiled and gave a tiny wave.
Alanna mouthed the words “I love you” to her sister and left. She never came back.
Chapter Two
1984
Alanna blew out the candle, and made her wish. It wasn’t for her, but for her sister. Harriet had died a long time ago of old age. She hadn’t had a bad life, just a lonely one. She hadn’t married, or had children, nor had she taken on many lovers. She’d just been content as her role as the witch representative on the Pod’s Mill council. Maybe it had been enough for her?
I wish for your soul to be happy in eternity.
It was always hard on Harriet’s birthday. She was the only person Alanna truly missed from her old, simple life. Her parents could go to hell as far as she cared, even her mother. Harriet had been different. She’d understood her. They’d understood each other in a way that only siblings could do.
She smiled and turned away from the kitchen table. It was getting cold inside and out of her small cabin. Mid-January in the middle of Baxter State Park was snowy and cold and quite unforgivable. It was how she liked it.
Humans would never find her home. It was enchanted. Other supernaturals could, and they had. She’d had many visitors over the years, some of them welcome, some itching for a fight. She’d seen them all off in the end. She liked her solitude.
She lit the logs in the fireplace with a match, which instantly infused the room with a gentle warmth. Alanna smiled, and felt her bones come to life. Harriet had hated the cold. Alanna didn’t mind it that much, even with her vampire skin protecting her. When the park was blanketed in snow it was beautiful. It was more entertaining than most television programs she could mention.
Television!
She grabbed the bulky, brick like remote control. She switched the TV on, an old black and white set that had seen better days, and flipped to NBC. She had never missed an episode of “Days of Our Lives”.
She settled down with a warm cup of cow blood (her cow, Bella, was safely tucked up in her barn), and watched her soap opera. It was silly and badly acted, and she loved eve
ry minute of it. It was her only vice, especially because vampires couldn’t digest human food or liqueur.
“I am so boring,” she muttered.
When it was finished she yawned and fell to sleep. She dreamed of Harriet, and the man who’d turned her into a vampire. It wasn’t often she thought of him. Their affair had been brief before he’d turned her and fled, leaving her to change on her own. She wasn’t even sure she’d actually loved him. But he’d changed her life. She owed him that much. Whether that life had been changed for the better was another thing. Sitting on her own, in a cabin in the woods, her family dead for a hundred and fifty years, she wasn’t quite sure.
Alanna slapped the side of the TV. She moved the antennae around. It still wouldn’t work.
“Damn pile of crap,” she muttered.
The TV was the only piece of electronic equipment she had. She didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t know a thing about electronics. How would she cope out here with nothing to pass the time? She had her books, and she had her gramophone, and she even had a battery powered radio, but eternity was a long time when you only had the same books, and the same music to play over and over again.
She picked up the phone, and found it dead.
Damn it. I forgot. It hasn’t worked in ten years.
Perhaps it was a good thing. It would give her an excuse to head out into the world. She could buy a new TV. Get some new books. Buy one of those new fangled cassette players and some new music.
“I could go,” she said, staring at her front door with anxiety. “In the snow.”
It had been twenty years since she’d last been out. All she’d planned on doing was buying a TV, maybe catching up on some world gossip. Instead she’d bumped into another vampire who knew who she was and tried to kill her, hoping to gain favor with Dracula by murdering an exile. It didn’t work like that. Dracula wouldn’t have looked favorably on any vampire who caused such chaos. It didn’t matter anyway. She’d bought her TV, escaped with her life, and vowed never to leave her cabin ever again.
