Werewolf: Ascension

by Greg Hair

  “But go on foot to the airport, not the Savannah airport, but a different one, one in Carolina. Just be sure not to go back to the rental car. We don’t need your picture on the news, too. I’m not leaving for months this time. Nicholas doesn’t really want me caught, and he knows I won’t be. He just wants me to be on the move. No matter which I’m going, as long as I’m moving, everything is progressing to its endpoint.” LillyAnna paused near the hotel room door. “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know. Even if I did, I couldn’t, I wouldn’t, tell you. For your safety.”

  “Keep in touch. If you need me, let me know.”

  “I will,” he said, standing near the window, holding his hand out to her.

  She ran across the room, and followed him back down the wall they’d climbed not an hour before. Reaching the ground, they stayed within the shadow of the building.

  Finally, before parting, they kissed each other with a passion few couples ever know.

  LillyAnna then walked casually out onto the street, in coming morning light, as Landon crept away in the dark passages of Savannah.

  Chapter 24

  Serinda led Gabriel among the trees surrounding Loch Awe. The vampires settled to the ground, behind the largest tree they could find, into an already worn spot. Gabriel began to assume the missionary position when Serinda rolled over, straddling him.

  “Yeah,” he said, massaging her backside with his hands, “now you’re talking.”

  “Shh, no I’m not. No one’s talking—just doing.” She bent down, breathing hot on his neck. Her hand running down into his pants, caressing his erection. She felt his breathing and pulse increase, the blood that previously ran in others’ veins, pick up speed in his.

  Serinda’s fangs extended, slowly piercing Gabriel’s neck, his hot blood shooting into her mouth as she swallowed. Each swooned within the agony and the ecstasy of a vampire’s bite. The speed of her hand in his pants accelerated, as he began to take off her pants. Pulling her warm hand out, she removed his.

  Gabriel slid into her, cupping her breasts as he did. Blood flowed out of his neck and from her mouth. He sat up, licking the fluid from her lips. She thrust him back to the ground as they fell into sync. Serinda watched Gabriel, his eyes closed, as he neared climax. She moved up and down on him faster, faster.

  Suddenly, Serinda’s eyes turned blue as she reared her head back, looking up toward the misty moon, and fell on Gabriel, pulling his flesh from his bones and his bones from his sockets. He howled in pain as he ejaculated inside her while being dismembered.

  In a moment, it was over. Gabriel’s adopted blood drenched Serinda’s nude body.

  She got up and casually walked away, leaving the pieces of carcass.

  Reaching the castle, she waltzed through the front door, as if she wasn’t naked and bloody, and didn’t care if anyone saw that she was. She made her way to Jamie’s room where she entered, without knocking, and closed the door behind her.

  “He’s busy,” said Nicholas, sitting in the Great Hall, tapping his foot to ELO’s Evil Woman, and watching Bianca walk from the dining room through the room, searching the castle for Jamie. “What is it you need?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “I was just looking for him. Do you know where he is?”

  “Try his room.” Nicholas gave Bianca a slight smile, not revealing the devilish joy he felt inside.

  He sauntered to a spot in the middle of the Great Hall that allowed for a better view down the corridor. He spied Bianca as she neared Jamie’s chamber door, slowing to a crawl, as if she were trying desperately not to arouse the suspicions of anyone she may interrupt. Nicholas watched the cold, dry floor at her feet suddenly become wet.

  She turned, facing Nicholas, his foot still tapping to ELO as he winked at her.

  “You win,” she said, storming past him and out the front door.

  Evil Woman faded and The Police’s Every Breath You Take began as Jamie’s door opened and a still nude, still bloody, Serinda emerged. Nicholas smelled the scent of sex drift down the hall. He stared at Serinda, in all her blood-covered beauty, as she stood there returning his gaze. He walked up to her, slid his hand across her blood-covered stomach, then, putting his hand to his mouth, licked the blood off his fingers.

  “Now that Gabriel’s dead, I need you take over his duties. You will be the bridge between myself and vampires. The first thing you are to do is send word out for a small army of vamps to join us at a specific location in the US. I’ll make sure the wolves are there. They need to be there in a few days. I’ll tell you more in the morning.” Serinda said nothing. He watched every inch of her red, naked form as she turned and went to her room.

  You should have been a werewolf, thought Nicholas, listening to Sting’s lyrical version of stalking. You get it. You know how to play the game, and play it well. Hell, you could have written The Prince. Too bad you’re a fucking vampire.

  A moment later there was a knock on the door. Nicholas cautiously approached the door and opened it.

  “Good evening, sir,” said the gentleman standing outside. “My name’s Colin. I work the local pub in the village just up the road. A young man from the town was brutally murdered last night and I was out looking for information. Actually, I’m out looking for a particular woman. I thought Kilchurn was deserted, but I thought I saw movement.”

  “We’ve only been here a few days,” Nicholas said. “Who did you say you were looking for?”

  “Well, we don’t know her name, but she’s Japanese, and so beautiful. Have you seen anyone like that?”

  Nicholas studied Collin, who was studying him. “Hmm, give me a minute to think on it. What did she do, again?”

  “She killed a young man named William. I say killed, but there’s really no way to describe what she did to him. It’s just horrible, sir. Truth is, it looks more like an animal attack, but I’ve never seen any animal do this, and since he left the pub with her, we’re hoping she can help.”

  “Please, come in.”

  Nicholas shut the door behind the Scottish bartender. “I think I may still be able to shed some light on this, though. Jamie!” he called.

  The teen ran down the hall and joined Nicholas and Collin. “Yeah? What?”

  “This gentleman’s looking for a Japanese woman. Says she may have information regarding a death in the town. A gruesome death.”

  “Sir,” said the bartender, “you said you might be able to help.”

  “So I did,” said Nicholas, walking over to Jamie. He whispered in the teen’s ear, and turned back toward Collin. “Here, sir, is the help you seek.” Suddenly, Jamie shifted and lunged at the bartender, as Nicholas bolted out the door.

  Chapter 25

  Nicholas entered the pub in the village of Dalmally, and sauntered over to the bar.

  Jamie trailed behind him. Nicholas noticed the locals cautiously watching them.

  “What can we do for ya?” asked one of the men at a far table. Nicholas got the impression the only thing the man wanted to help with, was holding the door open as they left.

  “You can’t do anything for us,” said Nicholas. “It’s what we can do for you. I hear you had a horrible murder recently.”

  The men with their pints all looked at each other, then at Nicholas and Jamie with squinted eyes.

  “Who are you?” asked the far man, standing up. “What do you know about it?”

  “Well, I know that your man left with a beautiful woman, then ended up dead.

  Something about it seeming as though an animal did it, but no animal from around these parts.”

  “Aye. That’s true. Do you know the woman?”

  “I think the more important question is, do you know the killer?”

  “Aye, it’s that devil woman that done it.”

  “Friend, let me tell you something. It wasn’t the woman and, you’re right, it was more like an animal. In fact, like a wolf.”

  “A wolf?” All the men laughed. “Twasn’t no
wolf. There’s no wolves around here.”

  “I didn’t say a wolf—I said like a wolf.” Nicholas looked around the room, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “More precisely, a werewolf.” The laughter in the pub shot up several decibles.

  “And,” Nicholas continued, “we, my protégé and I, being world-class werewolf hunters, believe the werewolf is from this very village.” He continued over the laughter.

  “Where is your barkeep?”

  Immediately, the laughter stopped as every man stood up, one by one.

  “Now look here, stranger. We shared a laugh with you, listening to talk about werewolves, but you’re not going to come in here and accuse any of us of something as foul as this boy’s death. You’ve said enough; it’s time for you to leave.” Suddenly, Collin, the bartender, burst through the door, sweat pouring down his face, his clothes ripped and bloody. He stopped quickly in his tracks when he saw Nicholas and Jamie.

  “What are they doing here?” Collin asked in a panic.

  “Hold your tongue, devil,” said Nicholas, taking a few steps forward.

  “You wait just a damn minute,” said the Scotsman at the far table.

  “That boy there’s the killer,” said Collin, pointing at Jamie. “He’s a monster.” Okay, Jamie, thought Nicholas. Now reel him in. Just like I told you. You made him—you control him. He looked at the teen, and watched his intense expression become more focused.

  The bartender suddenly lunged toward Jamie. Nicholas quickly reached inside his jacket, pulled out a gun and shot Collin once in the stomach. The bartender stumbled backward, toward the door.

  “Now you’ll see,” said Nicholas to the gathering of men. “The beast will come forth, now that I’ve shot him with a silver bullet.” Right on cue, Collin began his transformation. All the men scrambled from their seats and, seeing the only way out was blocked by a shapeshifting bartender, ran behind the bar.

  “Stay back men, we’ll handle this,” said Nicholas. “It takes more than one silver bullet to kill a werewolf.”

  He shot the still changing Collin several times in the head, then, reaching behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of Scotch and threw it in the creature’s direction, shooting it once. The bottle, and its contents, exploded onto the beast. Nicholas ran to the nearest wall, pulled a lighted oil lamp down, and hurtled it at Collin.

  The werewolf burst into flames as Nicholas kept shooting, and stumbled out the door. It howled and writhed in pain as it burned to death, there in the street.

  “We had no idea,” said the only vocal Scotsman in the pub.

  “Of course you didn’t,” said Nicholas, walking toward the man and standing toe to toe with him. “That’s how they stay alive—by blending in and hiding. They’re cunning beasts. You never truly know who’s a werewolf and how much danger you’re really in.”

  “Sir,” said Jamie, “it’s time for us to go.”

  “Yes, quite right. Our job here is done,” Nicholas said to Jamie. Then he turned to the group of men on the street. “You can now put down you search parties. I’ve killed your murderer. Rest easy, gentlemen.”

  Nicholas patted Jamie’s back as the two walked past the burning werewolf and down the road toward Kilchurn Castle.

  Chapter 26

  Landon entered the Hole in the Wall bar in Austin, Texas, and grabbed the first barstool he came to. He figured, if all the vampires and police on the East Coast were looking for him, he’d head west.

  “Help ya?” asked the bartender, a burly, bearded man older than Landon.

  “What kinda beer you got?” Landon asked, looking around the bar.

  “Aww, son, it don’t matter what kind it is—they all work the same.” Landon couldn’t help but laugh. It made sense. “I’ll take whatever’s cheap, then.

  And I’ll keep taking it.”

  A local band took to the small corner stage, returning from a break. The bartender set a mug of beer, the cheapest he had, in front of Landon who turned to listen to the lead singer.

  “All right, we’re Knee Deep in Midgets, and we’ll play a little bit of everything tonight. But right now, we’re gonna play a little bit a country for ya’ll now.” The patrons packed into the bar whooped and hollered.

  “Cotton-eyed Joe,” someone yelled out.

  “We’ll get to it, we’ll get to it. How about this little diddy first?” The first notes of Dwight Yoakam’s A Thousand Miles From Nowhere began. The singer did his best to mimic Dwight’s distinctive voice. Landon was sure the more alcohol one drank, the more the guy sounded like him. Besides, it wasn’t the mimicking that mattered, it was the feeling in the playing. And the guy felt it. Like Landon. A thousand miles from nowhere.

  I’m a thousand miles from nowhere, time don’t matter to me, cause I’m a thousand miles from nowhere, and there’s no place I wanna be.

  He turned back toward the bar, looking up at the muted television hanging above the waitress station. The local news was on and Landon kept up easily with the closed-captioning at the bottom of the screen. Thankfully, because he wasn’t wanted in Austin, he was not a highlight of the night’s newscast.

  Stories of local shootings, murders, rapes, and scandalous gossip scrolled across the screen. Nothing different than any other American city, but tonight, after all the murders, kidnappings, and loss of loved ones Landon had seen over the years, especially recently, the stories carried more weight. Now he wondered if what Nicholas’s words, through Jamie’s mouth, were right. They are the monsters.

  Landon focused again on the band. I’ve got bruises on my memory, I’ve got tear stains on my hands, and in the mirror there’s a vision, of what used to be a man. Every now and then, at just the right moment, a song is able to peer into the listener’s soul, find the epicenter of drama, and shake up all emotions.

  What used to be a man, thought Landon. That’s funny. He took another drink and went back to Nicholas’s ruminations on humanity. They are the monsters. Landon looked at the television. What if he’s right, he thought. Maybe they don’t deserve to be saved. He finished his mug as the bartender put another down. The band extended the ending of Dwight’s song, then faded seamlessly into the next—Bruce Springsteen’s Hungry Heart.

  Landon knew this song well. The guitar was perfect.

  Landon watched the crowd in the mirror behind the liquor bottles. Everyone on the dance floor clapped along to the beat. Then, the familiar electrical current ran through him. He braced for a fight. He was relieved when, through the mirror, coming in the door, he saw a familiar face.

  Landon turned around to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “Catalina?”

  “Hey, stranger,” she said, smiling and hugging him.

  “What are you doing here? How did you find me? Is LillyAnna here? Is she okay?”

  “Whoa,” said Catalina, laughing, “slow down. Let’s get a table.” Grabbing his mug off the bar, he escorted Catalina to a table in a dark corner, the only one he could find.

  “You want something?” he asked.

  “Do you want to explain to the bartender how, even though I look sixteen, I’m really older than him and he should serve me?” Landon shook his head.

  “I didn’t think so,” she continued. “Look, I’m here to help. That rat bastard Nicholas killed Celeste, and I’m gonna help you kill him. I know you’ve ascended, just like Ryker. Now I don’t understand how Nicholas came back from the dead, obviously he’s not like other werewolves, but I’d say, because of your ascension, the playing field has leveled a little bit. So we’re gonna leave this bar soon and go someplace where there is someone who can tip the scales in your favor. What were your other questions?” Landon, still in awe that Catalina was sitting there, in Austin, with him, struggled to remember his own questions. “How did you find me?”

  “I didn’t,” she responded, “Ryker did. He’s advancing more quickly than you, learning his new powers and all. You two, being the Consuls, are linked. He told me to look for you at a hole-in-the-wall bar. I
didn’t think, though, that he literally meant the Hole in the Wall bar.” Catalina laughed like he hadn’t seen her laugh in a long time.

  “Well, it seemed like the most natural place to crawl inside one, a hole in the wall, and disappear.”

  “I remember your other questions. LillyAnna’s not here and she’s okay. She’s in Italy, with the others, at Poveglia.” She looked past Landon’s shoulder to a large, bearded man sitting several tables away. “That guy keeps staring at me.” Landon turned, looked, then faced her again. “Don’t worry about it. Let him look.

  I’m sure it’s nothing.” He squirmed in his seat a little. “Listen, Catalina, I haven’t had the chance to tell you, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about Celeste. I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, holding back tears. “But you need to stop this drinking, and do what’s necessary. Like I have. You know, something I learned a long time ago, no amount of transformations will heal the emotional scars you carry. I’m pretty sure it’s the same with alcohol.”

  Landon grew more solemn. “I still don’t know how you two met. Was it long ago?”

  Catalina looked distant, as the crowd clapped to Big Log.

  “We met in the Sixties,” she said. “The nineteen-sixties, before you get smart and ask the fifteen-sixties.” She smiled and so did Landon. “We were both early members of the Daughters of Bilitis, in San Francisco. She was so brave. She had no problem telling people she was gay. Hell, she’d probably have met less resistance if she’d told people she were a vampire.” They both laughed.

  “I, on the other hand, was more cautious, afraid someone would discover either of my secrets. She taught me what true strength was, not the kind that comes with being a vampire. Anyway, that’s our story.” She wiped her tears away as the song neared its end.