Dark Hunt

by Naomi Clark

I hustled us along, not worrying about hurting Thérèse. Her legs and arms scraped along the walls. It had to be killing her, but she didn’t complain, just clung to me, breath hot on my neck. Shannon jogged along, not quite running, but quick enough that her growing panic was clear. It fed mine, my wolf clawing me up inside, telling me to go faster and get the hell away from the monster sneaking up on us. I wanted to dump Thérèse and shift, drop into my stronger, speedier animal body and race away from the danger.

  It took every shred of control I had not to. I bit my lip, the sharp pain keeping me focused on being human, on reaching the gate. We rounded a corner, going too fast and Shannon slipped. She fell with a cry, dropping the torch. There was a crack and the torch beam flickered rapidly, off-on-off-on.

  “Fuck!” Shannon snapped, grabbing the torch and smacking it. The light buzzed but stayed on, nowhere near as bright as it had been. She aimed it down the tunnel, swearing when it barely lit a few feet of the path ahead. “We’ve got—“

  “Don’t worry,” I ordered, my voice husky as the wolf battled for control. “Just keep moving.” Sweat beaded on my face and my teeth sharpened, pricking my lips as I spoke. We were so close to the gate, but I could smell Le Monstre now. I thought Thérèse could too, because her nails had become claws and they were slicing into my arms, drawing blood.

  Shannon obeyed, clutching the torch to her chest and pelting off down the passage. She was soon lost in the clinging darkness. Panic seized me as the thought of multiple vampires came crashing back and I ran after her as fast as I could. It felt painfully slow, burdened down as I was with Thérèse in my arms, my limbs throbbing in pain and my head full of cotton wool. With the scent of Le Monstre on the air, my wolf tried to take over, her primal fears driving her to scratch at my mind.

  Several times I nearly went crashing to the floor, but each time I managed to catch myself, my reflexes a little better with the wolf edging her way into my head and counteracting some of the vampire venom. Before long I’d caught up to Shannon. Thérèse was snarling under her breath. I ignored her as I skidded to a halt next to Shannon, who leaned against the wall, panting for breath.

  “Is it still following?” she asked hoarsely.

  I nodded. Our thundering footsteps had drowned out Le Monstre’s, but I could still smell it, always drawing closer. Thankfully, we’d reached the gate. It swung open, the damaged lock clanging against the bars. I pushed Shannon through and followed, setting Thérèse on the floor. She groaned, head rolling back against the wall.

  “I can’t go on,” she said. “My legs...ils me font trop mal.” She rubbed her legs, smearing blood on her hands. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, gripping the gate and staring back down the passage, expecting to see Le Monstre emerge from the darkness. “We’re okay now.”

  I could feel Shannon’s eyes on me, smell her sweat all mixed with terror and anger. “Ayla,” she started.

  I slammed the gate shut before she could finish, with me on the wrong side. In the passage with the vampire. Shannon screamed and rushed the gate, but I grabbed the metal latch that closed it and slammed it across with an ear-ringing clang. I had my hands the bar at the same moment Shannon did, twisting with every shred of strength I had left to make sure it stayed closed. Shannon slapped at my hands, yelling my name, but she wasn’t strong enough to pry me off. I turned the lock into a mangled mess, too twisted and jammed for a human to open.

  “Ayla!” she pleaded. I saw tears shining in her eyes. “Don’t, please, don’t you dare...”

  “I’ll be fine.” I gripped her fingers, clinging tightly to the bars of the gate. “I promise.”

  “We said... You said...”

  I pressed my face to the bars, grabbing her chin and pulling her in for a quick, sweet kiss. “I promise,” I said again. “Just try to get Thérèse out, okay? I’ll follow, Shannon. I promise I’ll be right behind you.”

  I’m not sure she believed me. I don’t think I would have believed her, if our positions were reversed. If our positions were reversed, though, I could have ripped the gate open. Shannon could not. “Please,” I said when she didn’t move, loading the word with all the urgency I was feeling. “Please go, I’ll be right behind you.”

  She started to speak, but a rasping hiss from behind me silenced her. We both froze, staring wide-eyed and breathless at each other through the bars of the gate. My wolf howled inside of me, a primal wash of dread filling me. Shannon’s fingers dug into mine and I was horribly aware of the slow trickle of blood from Thérèse’s claws sliding down my arm.

  “Go,” I said once more, the word like shards of glass in my throat.

  She shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

  I wet my lips, desperately racking my tired brain for something to say that would make her leave.

  The vampire launched itself from the darkness, hit me full in the back and slammed me face-first into the gate. My head rang and Shannon’s shriek burned my ears. God, I wish she’d just run. I wish we’d all just run.

  Eighteen

  The vampire’s strength pinned me, grinding my cheek against the bars while its wicked nails ripped at my back. I couldn’t even scream, all the air knocked from me. But Shannon screamed for me, wrenching hopelessly at the gate. From the corner of my eye, I saw her fist fly through the bars, punching the vampire in the side of the head.

  It recoiled with a hiss, giving me a second to twist and throw it off. It hit the floor hard but sprang back fast, on me again before I could do more than get back on my feet. I grabbed its hair, yanking at the greasy locks as hard as I could to get some leverage. I managed to pull us both down to the floor and get my knee up into its groin.

  It didn’t react. I tried again with more force. This time Le Monstre responded by biting my bleeding arm, digging in deep. I yelled, slamming my fist into its face, aiming for the same spot that Shannon had. It shook its head like a dog with a bone and I felt its teeth cut into muscle and bone. I writhed beneath it, trying to throw it off again, but all I managed was to hurt myself as those fangs sunk further in. I panicked, thinking of the venom working its way into my blood stream and grabbed the vampire’s head with my free hand, shifting my nails to claws and jamming my thumb straight into its eye.

  There was a wet popping sound that turned my stomach and the vampire tore its mouth from my arm with a roar. My own scream echoed it. The vampire reared back, hands pressed to its ruined eye. Gunky fluid covered my thumb and I wiped it off on my leg, trying not to notice the agony in my right arm. Internally I waged another battle, fighting my wolf and trying to stay human.

  The vampire swiped at me, missing my face by inches. I rolled back against the gate, felt Shannon clutch at me and shook her off. Why wouldn’t she leave, dammit? I used the gate to haul myself back to my feet, watching the vampire for its next move.

  It flew at me again, slamming me into the gate before I could react. It was so fast! As my head bounced off the bars, it struck me that being human wasn’t that important. Not as important as surviving. At least as a wolf I had teeth and claws to match the vampire.

  As the vampire slashed at me again, nails scraping across the bloody mess of my arm, I gave in to the wolf, shifting.

  It was a dangerous move and it hurt. Though I shifted fast—nowhere near as fast as Clémence—it took precious seconds to complete the change and in that time, I was terrifyingly vulnerable to the vampire’s attack.

  Le Monstre didn’t waste the opportunity. It was on me as I shifted, slashing and snapping as I writhed and kicked. Shannon’s frantic screams tore through me as my hearing notched up towards wolf-sharp. I struggled as I shifted, my paws striking at the vampire’s face and stomach. I smelled its blood, bitter and sweet and vile, and barked in triumph as my human voice melted away.

  Still, I was definitely the worse off by the time I’d finished shifting. I was covered in shallow cuts and scrapes and I couldn’t put any weight on my right foreleg. I hadn’t thought it thr
ough. Two good human legs definitely gave me more options than three good wolf legs. I danced back and forth as the vampire darted at me over and over, trying to fend it off with quick snaps and bites.

  A shrill squeaking rose up behind us; I barely paid any attention, but I saw the vampire glance past me to the gate. While it was distracted, I shot forward, grabbing its arm in my jaws and clamping down hard. The vampire roared again, the sound chilling me. It was something from another age, something far removed from werewolves, a sound with nothing human in it.

  I held on despite the foul taste in my mouth and the slow, hazy fog filling my head. That nasty grating sound carried on and the vampire clawed at my head and neck, trying to shake me off. Then it dug its nails deep into the bite on my arm, sending red hot lances of pain through me. I wanted to scream, wanted to cry, to curl up in a ball and whimper. I didn’t. I hung on until the taste of the vampire’s blood overwhelmed me, acid on my tongue, and I was forced to let go.

  I spat a mouthful of the awful stuff on the floor, shaking my head. Bad idea. The world spun and I stumbled, stepping onto my right paw and collapsing with a cry as white hot pain flashed up my leg.

  The vampire latched onto me like a leech, fangs plunging into my already-ruined shoulder. Stars sparked before my eyes and my head felt like it might explode.

  There was a final, grating clunk-clank like some massive machine chugging to life, and something warm fell on top of me, crushing my hind legs. I howled, bucking to move it. The smell of blood, berries and Pack hit me and somewhere in the muzzy back of my head, I realized Thérèse had wrenched the gate open. With her on top of me and the vampire holding me down, I felt crushed, drowning. I closed my eyes, trying to gather myself for some kind of action—what, I had no idea. There probably wasn’t much I could do.

  Thérèse dragged herself off me, crawling towards the vampire with teeth bared. She was still human, but she looked savage, streaked with blood, eyes wild. She grabbed its arm and pulled. There wasn’t much strength behind the motion, but it was enough to let me rip myself free of the vampire’s bite. Fresh waves of pain raced through me and for a second I thought I’d pass out.

  The vampire snapped at Thérèse, but she pulled back in time to avoid its fangs, and slapped it, her palm cracking across its cheek. Again, there was no real power in the blow, but it was another distraction while I pushed myself to my feet. I had to lean against the wall to stay on my feet, lumpy bones and jagged rocks digging into my ribs. Everything was swimming, spinning and blurring. I wanted to be sick.

  The vampire was on its feet again, looming over Thérèse, who couldn’t even get to her knees. It struck at her, a cruel backhand that sent her crashing into me and we both went down. I got a mouthful of her hair; I was sure she got a mouthful of my blood. I was blinded, scared and barely able to move. I struggled to get Thérèse off me. Desperation gnawed at me.

  Fast, hard steps pounded past me. I caught a whiff of sweat and Shannon’s perfume and desperation turned to fright. No, no, no... What was she doing, what could she possibly do?

  I heard a monstrous cacophony of noise, a smack of something heavy against something fragile, bone breaking, the vampire’s wail. Thérèse dragged herself off me, sobbing loud enough to hurt my ears, but it paled in comparison to Shannon’s screams. My heart raced fast enough to burst. She’s hurt, she’s hurt, oh God, I need to see, I need to move. She was hurt. She couldn’t be...

  It took long, awful seconds for my vision to clear. When it did, I saw Shannon standing over the fallen vampire, raising that heavy torch and slamming it down on the creature’s face over and over and over, the light flashing on and off with every blow. The crunch as the torch hit flesh was sick, blood splattering from the vampire’s broken nose. Shannon screamed as she attacked, hair flying about her face, skin ashen. Her arms trembled with the effort and sweat and spattered vampire blood dripped from her.

  It was the most horrible thing I’d ever seen and I couldn’t stop looking, couldn’t move to stop her. The vampire tried to fight back, swatting weakly at her legs and tearing rents in her jeans, but Shannon didn’t even notice, she just kept pummeling Le Monstre with the torch, even though she could barely lift it anymore. Her screams were turning to sobs, ragged and gasping.

  I forced myself to claw my way towards her. Thérèse did too, both of us so slow it was like we were moving through tar. Every inch of me burned with pain and the urge to stop and just fall into unconsciousness was overwhelming. But Shannon, Shannon...she drew me on.

  I kept moving until the vampire’s leg was within reach and then I bit down hard, severing muscle and tendon. I had to let go of the cold meat between my teeth almost immediately, unable to stomach anymore of that bitter blood in my mouth.

  The vampire didn’t react, and I realized Shannon had beaten it unconscious. It lay limp, blood from its nose and mouth pooling around its head. I glimpsed the tip of a broken fang floating in the pool and felt a spark of grim satisfaction.

  Shannon continued her assault, either not knowing or not caring that the creature was no longer putting up a fight, no longer moving. Thérèse reached my side and plucked at Shannon’s jeans, calling her name.

  “Shannon, mon ami, please, we must go now, please. It is done, it can’t hurt us now.”

  Her words seemed to penetrate the animal haze around Shannon. She sucked in a deep gulp of dusty catacomb air. The torch fell from her grasp, landing next to the vampire’s battered head. She covered her face with her trembling hands and for a second none of us moved. Shannon sobbed, the sound muffled by her hands. I thought maybe she was crying my name.

  ***

  It felt like a lifetime had passed since Shannon and I went down into the catacombs, but when the three of us finally dragged ourselves out—Thérèse with a hell of a lot of help from a silent Shannon—the sky was still dark, Paris still sleeping. I was too numb to be surprised, but a part of my brain noted that nothing had changed above ground and thought that it should have. It should be daybreak, at least, a physical sign that the fight was over, that good had triumphed over evil. The sun always rose at the end of vampire films, didn’t it?

  We got as far as the street and then it was as if we all gave up in unison. My foreleg was useless; I’d only got myself this far by propping myself against the walls and dragging myself along. When we were outside, I figured I didn’t have to move anymore and finally gave in to the urge to simply fall over. Shannon helped Thérèse down onto the pavement, her broken legs curled awkwardly underneath her, before she sat herself down next to me and buried her face in my fur.

  She stank of vampire blood and spent adrenaline, but it smelled like heaven to me. I turned my head to lick her arm, the only part of her I could reach and she laughed. “God, Ayla. Let’s go to Scotland next year, okay?”

  I huffed my agreement. Shannon pulled herself back to her feet, pushing her hair from her face. She pulled her phone from her pocket, checked the screen, and cursed. “Smashed in the fight,” she said, showing me. She cast around, searching for something. I was too dizzy and tired to figure out what she was doing, but then she set off with purpose across the road and I noticed the phone box. Relief settled over me like a blanket. She’d call an ambulance or the police. Someone else could take care of everything now. I closed my eyes and gave in to the call of darkness.

  ***

  I came to in hospital; Hôtel-Dieu de Paris, of course, my second home. I was human and my right arm was swathed in fresh white bandages. A drip fed into the arm, some liquid that made my eyes water. My head ached, my body felt heavy and sore, my throat felt like sandpaper. I sneezed, which made my entire body pulse with pain.

  “Bless you,” Shannon said. I jumped, glancing over at her. She was slumped in the chair next to my bed, pale and red-eyed. She had an impressive collection of bruises and cuts up and down her arms, but other than that she looked...not okay. She looked haunted. Her eyes were shadowed and she looked somehow smaller. Like the night’s events h
ad taken something physical away from her. I pictured her bashing in the vampire’s skull and knew I’d nailed it. Something had changed in Shannon. Violence left its mark, maybe more so when you’d committed it than when you’d been the victim.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, reaching for her hand. It seemed an incredibly lame question. Clearly, I thought, she wasn’t.

  But she smiled for me, raised my hand to her lips and kissed my knuckles. “I will be.”

  “What happened?”

  “I called an ambulance. Thérèse is in surgery right now, but based on the doctors’ faces when she got here, I don’t know how much good it will do.” She shook her head. “Poor girl. You got off lightly. Your arm’s infected, but they tell me good old werewolf healing will fix you up in a week or so. You’re probably going to feel like you have the flu for a while.”

  “Am I allowed to shift?” I asked hopefully. The idea of being banned again made my headache much worse.

  Shannon nodded. “As soon as you’re discharged, you’re free to going running around in whatever body you like.”