Black Fall (The Black Year Series Book 1)

by D. J. Bodden

  She wrapped her arms around Kieran and hugged him.

  The werewolf’s entire body tensed, like a ripple of muscle, and his eyes suddenly began to glow neon blue. “Oh crap,” Jonas said, and dove into Kieran’s mind.

  ♚

  “Stop! Please stop! I give up!”

  “You don’t get to just give up, runt. Get up and fight!”

  Jonas was in a basement with cinderblock walls and a concrete floor. A few padded mats were strewn about. He noticed they were covered in scratches, and the concrete with old bloodstains.

  A younger version of Kieran — he looked to be thirteen or fourteen — was lying on the mats, curled into a ball. Bert picked him up by the neck, held Kieran up in front of him with his left hand, and slapped him.

  “Fight back,” Bert said. His face was calm, but Jonas could tell there was a seething mixture of emotions there: anger, disgust, confusion. Kieran wasn’t reacting the way he was supposed to. All he did was bring his arms up to cover his face. He didn’t try to hit Bert, or even break his grip. He only tried to lessen the damage.

  “You’re a werewolf! Fight!” Bert roared in Kieran’s face, drops of spittle flying from his mouth. It was the same grinding roar that Phillip had used once, nearly sending Jonas running for his life. Kieran flinched, but didn’t struggle. He just hung there, limp.

  Around the perimeter of the mats children and young adults of both genders stood, watching. There were at least a dozen of them. The younger ones held back, looking nervously at their older siblings. The older ones watched more closely, having formed a ring around Bert, their brown or black eyes flashing yellow every time he landed a good hit.

  At first glance, Jonas thought this was just a case of sibling bullying, but then he noticed Leticia Macready standing in the crowd. “Hit him again, Bert,” she said, her eyes glowing like molten gold. “There’s a wolf in there, somewhere. I didn’t give birth to a dog.”

  Bert dropped Kieran on the mat and walked over to his mother. His face looked strained. “He’s hurt. He’ll die if I keep—”

  “No! You do what’s necessary or I’ll step in and show you how it’s done,” she said. Jonas searched the crowd, but there was no sympathy in their eyes. Fear, anger, amusement, but not sympathy.

  He rushed to the side of the mat. “Kieran! Kieran, it’s me, Jonas!”

  Kieran didn’t seem to hear. Then Bert walked over, put his foot on Kieran’s forearm, and leaned forward. “Fight back, boy,” he whispered. “You don’t have to win. Just give mother a good show, and then we can go back upstairs and eat.”

  “No,” Kieran said.

  Bert scowled and put a little more weight on Kieran’s arm. The younger boy whimpered. “Fight back, boy. I don’t want your death on my conscience,” Bert said, and then shifted all of his weight forward. The bone snapped with a loud pop.

  Kieran screamed and began to convulse. His eyes gleamed blue. Jonas knew he needed to keep Kieran from fighting back, or it wouldn’t be his family he tore into, it would be the people in Grand Central, and Amelia would die first.

  Bert picked Kieran up and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him in a bear hug. He spoke into Kieran’s ear. “Fight back, you useless runt.” He squeezed harder. “Fight back, or I’m going to break your ribs, too.”

  Kieran was having trouble breathing. His eyes were now glowing a steady blue and his fingers were curled into claws. “Dad…” he gasped.

  Using every ounce of mental force he could muster, Jonas pushed the idea of Phillip Macready walking down the basement stairs, into Kieran’s mind.

  “What’s going on here?” Phillip bellowed.

  Bert dropped Kieran and spun around, looking guilty. “Dad, I—”

  “Your son was showing the weakling what it means to be a werewolf,” Leticia said, stepping onto the mat.

  “By beating the daylights out of someone weaker? So that’s what passes for fierce, is it?” Phillip said, staring at Bert.

  Bert hung his head. “I’m sorry, Dad, I—”

  Leticia shouldered past Bert, standing toe to toe with her husband. “Don’t you make him apologize for doing what’s required by—”

  “Get out! All of you!” Phillip roared. There was a rush for the stairs as his children pushed and shoved to escape their father’s wrath. Leticia stood her ground, defiant. Bert hesitated, then bent to pick Kieran up. “You’ve done enough, Bert. Not your fault, just head upstairs,” Phillip said. His tone was soft, almost pitying. Bert flinched as if he’d been stung. He glanced at his mother, and then followed the others upstairs.

  Once Phillip was certain the children were gone, he spoke to his wife. His voice was calm. “We had an agreement.”

  “According to the old ways—”

  “According to the old ways, he would have been culled at birth for being too small. But I gave you Bert, and you agreed to let me raise Kieran as I saw fit.”

  Leticia stood her ground. She was a big woman, larger than any Jonas had ever met. She wasn’t as trim as Phillip or Bert, but not fat either. “He’s an abomination, Phillip, a weakling. A werewolf who doesn’t fight for his share doesn’t eat,” she said, as if she were quoting scripture.

  Phillip sighed. “Lettie, the old ways are—”

  “They were good enough for my father,” she said, sticking her chin out.

  “Your father died a young man, Leticia, with only one daughter to carry on his bloodline.”

  “And I will,” she said. “And I’ll make him proud, by not having anyone say that Leticia Gregor birthed a weakling. Phillip, I won’t disgrace my father’s good name. He doesn’t eat at my table.”

  “Good,” Phillip said, as Leticia blinked in shock. “Then there’ll be no argument. I’m taking him to live at the Agency.”

  Leticia’s upper lip curled back in disgust. “Fine. Give him to your masters. They can use him like they use you. My father would never—”

  “Your father was an idiot whose only virtue was a questionable claim to the blood of a white wolf. You think the old ways made us free, Lettie? It’s that kind of thinking that got all of your brothers killed before siring sons of their own. Tell me, at what point did your favorite son stop and think for himself, tonight? Did he challenge you? Or was he willing to kill his little brother at your say-so… like the dog that he is!” Phillip shouted out the last sentence, causing Leticia to take a step back. “Now, get out!” Phillip growled, and Leticia fled up the stairs.

  Once she was gone, Phillip knelt at Kieran’s side.

  “I did it, Dad. Just like you said. I didn’t fight back.”

  “I know, son. I know. I heard it all from the top of the steps,” Phillip said, brushing a clump of matted hair from Kieran’s face.

  “I wanted to. I wanted to tear his throat out, and claw his eyes, and Dad… I’m so hungry—”

  “I know, Kieran,” Phillip said, gathering the child into his arms and hugging him. “I’m so very, very proud of you.”

  Kieran smiled, then looked at Jonas over his father’s shoulder. “Jonas?” he said, looking confused.

  CHAPTER 21

  Jonas was back in Grand Central, after Kieran pushed him out of his mind. It had been gentle, and Jonas didn’t fight it. The young werewolf was now looking down at Amelia. “Hi. I’m Kieran. You smell nice, but you should probably let go of me.”

  Amelia squeaked and took a step back, clasping her hands and looking at Jonas.

  “Kieran, are you alright?” Jonas said.

  “No. There are too many people here, and I’m very hungry.”

  “Okay,” Jonas said. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Kieran shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll make it.” He was standing with his hands at his sides, breathing fast, his eyes unfocused. Jonas looked up, and saw the moon rising in one of the windows.

  They’re closing in on you, Jonas, Madoc said.

  “Can you walk?” Jonas said.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,
both of you follow me.”

  How is he? Madoc asked.

  Not good. Can you get in touch with his father?

  Not during a full moon. Besides, I only touch werewolves if I’ve trained with them and they’re expecting me. Otherwise, you’d be short one specter during your attack. I can lead you to him, though. He’s moving around with the other adults in the family, looking for Bert. I don’t think they know Kieran’s missing.

  Jonas thought about it. Once Kieran was aboveground, they’d have a very short time to get him to an isolated spot where he wouldn’t hurt anybody. Central park. Can you get us there?

  Yes.

  Jonas followed Madoc’s directions, exiting the Main Concourse with Kieran and Amelia following single file. He projected a small amount of discomfort into the crowd around them, so people subconsciously moved aside. Kieran was barely hanging in there, and could do little else but follow. Jonas just didn’t want anyone accidentally bumping into him. He hated to think what might happen.

  Call the elevator, Madoc said.

  Jonas frowned. The only places the elevator would take them was the dining concourse or the balcony. He’d never actually used it; they were mostly there for people in wheelchairs or parents with baby strollers. Otherwise, there were stairs and ramps to pretty much anywhere in the terminal. He pressed the call button — no use second guessing Madoc, he’d been doing this for longer than any of them had been alive.

  “Jonas, someone’s coming,” Amelia said, her voice tight.

  Jonas looked back. Two men in dark suits were moving through the crowd. One was thin and had the smooth, airbrushed grace of a vampire. The other was twice as wide, towering over everyone around him. Jonas started pushing the elevator call button repeatedly.

  Madoc?

  The elevator doors slid open, and the three of them piled in.

  Down, Madoc said, and Jonas hit the button. The doors were almost shut when the Order werewolf’s meaty hand caught them and they opened again.

  “End of the line, kid. Come quietly, and no one gets hurt,” the vampire said, smiling as he and the werewolf stepped inside. Amelia backed into the far right corner, and Kieran started to bristle. “None of that,” the vampire said, suppressing him. Jonas wanted to fight back, but didn’t interfere; there was no telling what would happen if Kieran lost it in the cramped space.

  Stun the Order werewolf, Madoc told him.

  Jonas threw his mind at the werewolf. The man stumbled, like he’d taken a solid blow to the head. The Order vampire smirked, as the elevator doors started to open. “That’s not going to—”

  Frank stepped in with a right cross that audibly cracked the werewolf’s skull and toppled him into the vampire. Kieran growled. The vampire struggled to get out from under his partners’ weight.

  “Say cheese!” Frank said. He pointed a small black device at the two tangled men and pressed the red button on top. It flashed, and the vampire immediately fell back, his head and neck missing, showering Jonas with a thin layer of fine, gray ash. He flashed back to his father’s funeral. Mom was right, vampire ashes are different, he thought.

  Then Frank was grabbing him, shoving him through the open doors. “Come on, everyone out.” As they walked into the dining concourse, Jonas noticed people staring back at the elevator – pointing and talking in hushed tones – as the doors slid shut.

  “Jonas, that’s a hunter,” Kieran growled.

  “I know, but he’s on our side,” Jonas said. They took a left into the Whispering Gallery, then a right, and moved up the slope. The whole time, Amelia was frantically trying to brush the ash from her clothes and hair.

  Where are we going, Madoc? Jonas asked.

  The specter gave him a glimpse of the entire terminal. Three of the Order’s teams were converging on the elevator, another was running toward it across the dining concourse. That left one team at the top of the ramp, closing fast, and heading right for them.

  Frank took a right, toward the ramp that led outside.

  We can’t take him outside—

  Trying to thread a needle, here, Jonas, Madoc said impatiently.

  Jonas looked over his shoulder and saw the closest vampire and werewolf team shoving its way through the crowd.

  “That flash thing still work?”

  Frank shook his head. “Battery’s dead. Someone told me it wouldn’t be dangerous, so I didn’t bring the fancy toys.” Jonas thought Frank was being funny, but the hunter wasn’t smiling. He followed Frank to the left and onto the escalators down to the subway.

  Get your metro card out, Madoc said.

  They pushed their way past people on the escalator, and Jonas continued to keep people out of Kieran’s way. But it was starting to take its toll, giving him a serious headache. Moving ahead, he quickly swiped Frank, Kieran, and Amelia through the turnstile. When he swiped it for himself, all he got was a beep. Insufficient fare.

  He looked at the card dumbly, then at Frank, and said, “I’m out of—”

  “Kieran, pull him over,” Amelia said.

  The young werewolf reached over the turnstile, grabbed Jonas by the shoulder, and dragged him over the bars, as onlookers stopped and stared.

  “Thanks,” Jonas said, scowling. Frank started to comment, but held his tongue. Amelia seemed pleased with herself.

  Move! Madoc said.

  They hurried down to the platform. The “6” express train was already there, and all four of them managed to slip through the doors just as they were closing. Jonas watched their pursuers run onto the platform as the train pulled away.

  “Is everyone okay?” Frank asked.

  Amelia seemed dazed and out of breath, but she nodded.

  The car was mostly empty, and the dozen people riding it subconsciously moved away from Kieran, giving them some breathing space.

  Kieran was staring at Frank. “I told you he’s a hunter, didn’t I, Jonas?” he said, balling his hands into fists.

  Frank didn’t acknowledge the remark, but turned slightly and shifted his weight, his right hand going to his hip.

  You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m trapped in a metal box with a hunter and a half-mad werewolf, going 30 mph, underground, Jonas thought.

  “Look, can we call a truce? I mean, it’s only one station,” Jonas whispered. They both looked at him, as if to say, I can, but what about this guy?

  Jonas sighed. It would have to be good enough. He pulled one of the blood packs out of his jacket, pulled the tab, and poked the straw in.

  “What’s that?” Amelia asked.

  “Juice,” Jonas said, without thinking, then corrected himself. “Actually, it’s blood.”

  Frank looked disgusted.

  “He’s a vampire,” Kieran added. Then his stomach growled, loud enough for Jonas and the others to hear it.

  “Sorry, only brought enough for me,” Jonas said.

  “It’s not very filling, anyway,” Kieran grumbled.

  Amelia kept staring at him. “So you’re a… but you…”

  “I’m the same person I was a week ago. Kind of.” He turned to Frank and said, “How’d you do that, in the elevator? He must have outweighed you by eighty pounds.”

  “What, the wolf?” He grinned. “Years of training, good foot-placement, and these,” he said, fishing something out of his pocket. It was a pair of brass knuckles, only they weren’t brass — they were silver.

  Kieran’s lips peeled back at the sight of them.

  “Uh, tell you what, Jonas. Why don’t you hang on to these for me?” Frank said, holding them gently with two fingers.

  Kieran seemed to calm down once the weapon was safely in Jonas’ pocket. Jonas didn’t mention the silver dagger on Frank’s hip.

  The train pulled into the station, and the four of them got off.

  “Where are we going, Jonas?” Kieran said. He was sweating, and Jonas could hear his pulse beating faster and stronger.

  “To the forest; I thought you’d feel safer there. Can you make it two
blocks in the open?”

  “I think so,” Kieran said, nodding.

  Amelia walked up the stairs next to Jonas. “What’s wrong with him? Is he sick?” she whispered.

  “That time of the month,” Jonas said, and Amelia looked at him like he was crazy.

  As Kieran stepped from the shadows into the moonlight, his whole body shook. He hunched, grabbing his stomach, and whimpered.

  Frank looked at the pedestrians around them, then at Kieran, then at Jonas. His hand was under his coat. “I can take care of this,” he said.

  “No. He’s fine,” Jonas said. “Come on, Kieran, this way.” He just needed to get Kieran to the park. Then he, Frank, and Amelia, could make their way back to his apartment where they would be relatively safe. The four of them moved west, crossing with the lights. The last light was red, and Kieran’s shaking was getting worse, so Jonas hijacked a cop’s mind and had him stop traffic while they crossed. Within seconds, they were in Central Park: grass, bushes, trees, and a pond with a bridge over it. There were very few people out now that night had fallen.

  “We did it!” Amelia said, as they walked deeper into the park.

  “Not quite,” Jonas said, looking around. He didn’t know why Madoc hadn’t warned them, but the vampire and werewolf pairs they’d seen at the station were now moving toward them along every path. He glanced back and saw four more sealing the trap behind them. Some of the vampires had silver daggers in their hands.

  “It’s too bad, kid,” the lead vampire said. “If you’d let us take you back there, in the station, we could have locked your friend away before he turned. Now we’ll have to put him down.”

  Stay calm, don’t move, Madoc said.

  Jonas ground his teeth and stayed still.

  There were nine of them, four vampires and five werewolves. One of the werewolves had a spider web of black lines radiating from his right temple. “Where’s your partner?” Frank said, with a sneer.

  “Dead, thanks to you,” the werewolf replied, “I’ll pay for that, you know, not being able to protect him.”