A Shade of Vampire 22: A Fork of Paths

by Forrest, Bella

  “What do you want with me?” I whispered.

  He glanced toward the exit, and then looked up at the sky—which was now darkening. What was he trying to tell me? It looked like he was indicating that he wanted to fly away with me, but hadn’t he just done that? Why bring me to the cave?

  “You want to take me outside?” I asked.

  Again, he nodded.

  “Where?”

  He expelled a caw, and I sensed frustration in his eyes. He threw his head back over his shoulder again, to indicate outside.

  I stood up and began to head toward the exit. Again, he caught up with me, and ushered me back to the rock.

  Now it was my turn to breathe out in frustration.

  I didn’t understand him. If he wanted to take me outside, why did he bring me to this cave in the first place and why was he insisting that I sit on this rock? I frowned. “I don’t belong here,” I said, speaking slowly and careful to enunciate each syllable. “I need to go home.”

  I heaved a sigh. At least this cave was warm with the griffin in it. His body emanated heat like a radiator.

  He backed away from me, and sat down a few feet away. As the minutes passed, his warmth eased the pain in my aching bones and loosened my tight muscles, making me feel relaxed. He averted his attention away from me and gazed out at the dark, frozen world outside.

  He made no motion to stand up again, and I found myself trapped at the back of the cave. It looked like he was keeping watch… perhaps even guarding me. Clearly, I was going to need to wait for him to fall asleep before I could attempt to escape.

  For now, I might as well rest my traumatized body. I didn’t know when the next opportunity to do so would crop up.

  I curled up on the rock, and even though it was hard and bumpy, I felt more comfortable than I ever had in the hunters’ soft bed.

  Many hours must’ve passed as I lay there, eyeing the creature and waiting for him to nod off. But he didn’t.

  What he did do, however, as he kept watch over the cave throughout the night, was glance back at me every five minutes with what I could’ve sworn was a look of concern in his eyes.

  Ben

  I remained close to River until she fell asleep. I knew that she would eventually. The trauma that she must’ve been through would have drained her, and she needed to recuperate.

  Then, in the very early hours of the morning, I dared move to the exit of the cave and launch into the sky. I hated to leave her, but it would be only for a short while. We had a long journey ahead of us, and I wanted to do all I could to make sure that it would be as painless for her as possible.

  As I beat the griffin’s wings and lifted silently in the air, my mind returned to all that had passed since I’d discovered that I could possess the body of an animal.

  I didn’t know how it was possible, but after I’d seeped into the body of the Great Dane and found myself seeing through his eyes, I soon realized that I could also control his movements. His legs became like my own, my will his will.

  I was certain that I wasn’t able to possess human beings or other supernaturals with the same level of consciousness. It made me speculate that perhaps ghosts could possess animals because animals’ awareness wasn’t as high as the former. Maybe, since their minds were less developed, there was less resistance and they were easier to control. Whatever the reason, I had made a breakthrough. I could inhabit animals.

  After making this discovery thanks to the dog, all my plans changed. I was no longer going to head back to The Shade. That had been the last thing I’d wanted to do in any case. It would’ve taken a long time to find and I’d resorted to it solely out of lack of any other plan. But now… now I had another plan. What would hopefully be a better, faster plan.

  I drifted out of the dog’s body on the beach, relinquishing control. The animal let out a snort before moving back toward his owner with shaky legs, as though recovering from the shock and confusion of my possession.

  Then I headed right back to the hunters’ lair. As I sped through the sky, I tried to formulate a plan in my mind. The first thing I wanted to do was verify River’s whereabouts—that she was still in the same place as before. I had been heading toward the courtyard, but as I passed the main reception area near the parking lot, I spotted her there, standing behind a woman in a lab coat and facing the reception desk. I remained observing the scene, wondering what River’s game plan was, but then a blonde hunter pulled out a gun, and I didn’t have another moment to lose. As much as it killed me to leave River, I immediately sped away.

  Prior to spotting River in the reception, my hurriedly cobbled-together plan had been to see if there were any domestic animals roaming the building that I could possess. Perhaps pets of the hunters. If I found one, I could enter the animal and find a way to roam the building in search of Mark—whom I assumed would have a key. Now this was all out of the question. There was no time.

  As I racked my brain as to what I could possibly do after this turn of events, my mind suddenly trailed back to the griffins I’d spotted, tethered in an open field some miles away from the main facility. I headed there immediately.

  On arriving, before trying to figure out how I was going to let one of them free, I first had to verify that I could indeed inhabit these creatures. I dipped down and touched the nearest one to me—a male. Sure enough, I found myself sinking into him, just as I had done to the dog, and a few seconds later the griffin’s eyes were my eyes. I could move his limbs at my will. I glanced down at the chains that bound his feet and noticed a sturdy padlock holding them in place. I needed the key.

  I left the griffin—who reacted in a similar way to the dog had, snorting and looking irritable and disorientated—and turned my focus on the nearby cabin. Through the window, I spied two male hunters sitting inside it. When I hurried toward the cubicle, its door was slightly ajar. I seeped through it and emerged on the inside. Close to the hunters now, I decided to double-check my assumption that I definitely couldn’t inhabit humans. I moved toward him and tried to step into his being, but, as I had expected, I only passed through him. He wasn’t receptive to my spirit.

  Stepping back, I glanced around the cabin—surprisingly large on the inside. My eyes fell on a dog in one corner of the room. A large pitbull terrier. He was curled up on a cushion, snoozing. He was a guard dog, no doubt, and perhaps he even helped in some way with the griffins.

  My eyes continued raking over the room in search of a set of keys. I spotted them looped on a chain that was attached to the belt of one of the hunters.

  Good.

  I moved toward the dog, and although he was much smaller than the Great Dane, as I planted my wispy feet through his back, I was able to inhabit him with relative ease. I felt almost a slight suction, and I began sinking downward, like I’d trodden on quicksand. And the next thing I knew, I was sharing the pitbull terrier’s gaze. I stood up, and, after taking a few seconds to get used to walking in his body, padded over to the hunter with the keys. I growled and nuzzled my head against his leg.

  “What is it, boy?” he asked, reaching a hand down to scratch my right ear.

  I eyed the keys. It wouldn’t be hard to rip them from his pants, not with this set of jaws. But then I would need to make it to the field and actually open the chains—all before they caught up with me and punished the dog for my misbehavior.

  I let out a low, contented growl, and began licking the hand of the hunter who was still petting me. Even as panic still flooded my mind over River’s plight, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the bizarreness of the situation.

  So this is what it’s like to be a dog.

  My life right now—if one could even call it that—was crazier than a dream. Or should I say a nightmare?

  I nudged my head toward the keys, groaning as though I was enjoying the hunter’s attention, and then, once I was close enough, I clamped the dog’s jaws firmly around them and tugged hard. The hunter yelped, but before he could grab hold of me, I raced
to the door. Slamming my head against it to force it open further, I squeezed the dog’s muscled body out of it and began bounding across the snow toward the field.

  As I approached, several of the griffins noticed me. They began screeching, flapping their wings and extending their lethal talons in the dog’s—my—direction. Their powerful bodies kicked up a storm of snow around them.

  Dammit.

  Still clutching the metal keychain tightly between my teeth, I was forced to slow down and circle around them. As it turned out, the violent flailing of all their wings at once became a blessing in disguise. The flurry of feathers and the flying of snow made it harder for the hunters to spot me. It also impaired the vision of the griffins themselves, and by the time they had calmed down, I’d managed to approach one of the creatures from behind. The same one I’d just possessed. His head was turned in the other direction, and he apparently hadn’t noticed me yet. I needed to keep it that way.

  An unpleasant high-pitched sound assaulted my eardrums. A dog whistle, I guessed. Well, I was no dog and the hunters’ antics would not work on me.

  I crawled slowly between the griffin’s back legs and crept along beneath his sleek underbelly. As I neared the lock that held the chains in place, I was faced with yet another challenge.

  How does a dog unlock a padlock?

  I couldn’t use my feet. They were too clumsy. I had no choice but to use my jaws.

  At least it was clear to me which of the keys would fit the padlock—the largest one. The rest were obviously too small. But I needed this large key to jut out from my mouth so that I could push it into the lock and twist it at the right angle. The seconds that followed were tense as I fought to adjust the keys between my teeth, using my tongue as an anchor, all the while trying not to make a sound. Finally, I managed it. The largest key protruding from between my front teeth, I crept toward the padlock, jammed the key into the lock and yanked my head sharply to one side. To my relief, there was a soft click. I kept twisting the key until the padlock opened.

  I’d freed the griffin. Now, he just needed to realize it.

  Discarding the keys in the snow, I barked. As the griffin’s head shot downward, I raced away between his legs. And then I left the dog’s body. I didn’t want to be responsible for the canine being ripped to pieces—he’d likely be too disorientated after my possession to escape the beast—so I hurried back to the griffin and sank myself into him.

  After fifteen tense seconds of trying to figure out how to work his wings, I managed to launch into the sky. The hunters yelled from the ground, but it was too late. I gained speed and soon they became small dots on the white ground.

  I soared back to where I had left River, relieved that the creature possessed supernatural speed.

  By the time I arrived, River had already managed to break out of the reception somehow, and several dozen hunters were searching the parking lot for her. I strained my eyes to spot River. I couldn’t. I moved closer to the ground, deciding that wherever she was, creating a distraction for her would help. I’d approached with great stealth, and the hunters hadn’t even noticed me… yet. Trailing my eyes on the ground, I singled out a hunter who looked particularly alone and swooped down toward him. By the time he realized what was happening, I’d already caught him between the griffin’s talons and begun crushing his limbs. His yells caught the attention of all the hunters. Several of them fired bullets at me. As I raced higher again, a couple of them lodged painfully into my side, but although they hurt like hell, they didn’t hamper my flight. They didn’t seem to affect me much more than a bee sting. I’d caught them off guard, and they apparently weren’t equipped with strong enough weaponry to take down a griffin.

  Then I spotted River, racing over the barrier, in soaking wet pajamas, toward the foot of the nearest mountain. Discarding the hunter unceremoniously and sending him hurtling down into the crowd of hunters gathered beneath me, I shot toward River and managed to scoop her up. I’d been afraid that I would hurt her with my talons, but I didn’t have a choice. From the terror in her eyes as she first laid eyes on me, she certainly wasn’t going to voluntarily leap onto my back.

  I flew with her until I found a cave, where I wanted her to rest for the night.

  And now… now, in these early morning hours, I needed to prepare for the journey ahead of us. There were three things I needed to scout for River: warm clothes, food and water.

  I was still faced with the same obstacle as before when I’d planned to return to The Shade in my ghostly form: I didn’t know exactly how to reach it. I had to be prepared for delays.

  Flying over the mountains, I headed back to the ski resort I’d found earlier. I was guessing that they would have a shop filled with ski suits and thermal clothing that would be perfectly suited to River. I was right—there was a ski shop around the back of the resort, in its own designated building. With a thrust of my sharp beak, I broke through one of the wide glass windows, setting off a loud alarm in the process. But it didn’t matter. I would be quick.

  I lunged for a rail of puffer coats. Trying not to cause any tears, I flung one over my shoulder and caught it with my tail, where it hung by the hood. Next, I collected thermal trousers, socks, boots, as well as a sturdy bag, scooping them up in my talons.

  Once I was finished in the clothing section, to my pleasant surprise, I spotted a shelf filled with hiking supplies and long-life food. I added packets of protein bars to the contents in my talons, and then some bottles of water, until I could hold no more.

  By the time security guards were racing from the main building toward the shop, I’d already launched back into the sky and flown off with the goods.

  River was still asleep when I touched down outside the cave. The cavern had become chilly again without the heat of the griffin’s large body. After emptying my talons of the bag, packaged food and water, I crept over to River. I rested the coat gently over her like a blanket, and placed the other clothing items near where she rested. Then I retook my place several feet away from her.

  River stirred slightly, clutching the coat more tightly against her. The expression of peace that overtook her face as she settled and lost herself in deep slumber again warmed my spirit more than the griffin’s body ever could.

  River

  As I opened my eyes to a cave flooded with sunlight, I cursed myself for having fallen asleep. I’d meant to stay up all night and watch for my opportunity to escape from this oddly possessive creature. Now, I might need to wait another day.

  Sitting up, I realized that a coat had been resting over me. It was a ski-coat, apparently brand new, with its label still attached. Perched on another rock a few feet away from me was a pair of padded ski pants, warm boots and high thermal socks. Frowning, I gazed toward the exit. The griffin was standing there, close to the ledge, and gazing out at the snowy landscape, like a king beholding his kingdom.

  Could he have found these clothes for me?

  Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I slid off the rock. My torn pajamas were bone dry—it must have been the effect of the griffin’s body heat all night. With the rays of sun streaming in through the entrance of the cave, I felt almost comfortable. I was still confused by the mysterious appearance of the ski garments, but however they’d gotten here, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Wrapping the jacket around me and pulling up the zipper to my chin, I slid into the cozy pants before putting on the socks and boots. Then I moved through the cave and cautiously approached the griffin. Next to him was a large bag filled with… energy bars? And bottled water? Did this creature really find these for me, too?

  Sensing my approach, the griffin turned around and gazed down at me. I furrowed my brows, gesturing to my clothes and the food. “Did you get these for me?”

  He nodded.

  My eyes widened, and I was rendered speechless. I wondered where he’d found them… and yet again I found myself wondering, Why would he do this for me?

  “Thank you,�
� I said, taken aback, yet immensely grateful at the same time.

  I was feeling starved. I stooped down and scooped up one of the bars, unwrapping it and finishing it within a few mouthfuls. As bland as it tasted, I couldn’t deny it was filling. Cracking open one of the bottles and taking a swig of water, I cleared my throat, unsure of what to do or say next. I looked out at the snowcapped landscape, admiring its beauty as it shimmered in the morning sun. I wondered what time it was. But most of all I wondered, What now?

  I turned my focus back on the griffin.

  “I need to leave,” I said, still feeling slightly crazy to be having a one-way conversation with an animal. “I live on an island known as The Shade. I need to return there.”

  The moment I mentioned the island, he began nodding vigorously. I paused, my mouth agape. “You… You know about The Shade?”

  Again he nodded.

  Perhaps I ought not be so surprised. The Shade was well-known among supernatural creatures, both in the human realm as well as in the supernatural dimension. I just hadn’t expected this… thing to be so cognizant.

  Then a thought struck me. What if this griffin has been sent from The Shade to rescue me? Maybe he’s an ally, and they sent him to find me. What other explanation could there possibly be for his not only rescuing me, but also looking after me so well?

  Within an instant, I warmed to the beast.

  “Were you sent by someone in The Shade?”

  At this, he paused and tilted his head to the side, as if he was perhaps unsure of my question or how to answer.

  “Do you know where The Shade is?”

  He nodded again.

  “Will you take me there?”

  He screeched, still moving his head up and down. He threw his head over his shoulder, as if indicating to the world outside. And then his legs folded beneath him and he sank to the ground. His gaze was expectant. He had lowered himself for me to climb onto his back.