“Right this way,” the executive finally led the way, forcing a smile.
“We are making good progress, William,” the witch told him as they were led into a back room where a thick lead door sealed their final destination. “We may be back in time for supper.”
William didn’t feel as confident. He still couldn’t believe it was all so easy. Watching the young executive open the door for him filled him with fear. Something was wrong, he could feel it. The door opened, and from the inside, the scent of werewolf filled his nostrils. Beside him, he heard a gun as the young executive pointed it at his companion.
“Get in,” he ordered. “Both of you.”
The door opened wide to reveal Erwin, one of the most powerful werewolves in his pack. The man was huge and bald, his muscles barely fit in the sleeves of his shirt. Will had seen Erwin’s wolf many times. It was a monster, the biggest nightmare come true.
Suddenly, beside him, Oralia simply disappeared; the air around her twisted slightly to fill the space she had once occupied. She was gone; teleported back to the agency and leaving him to die. Will turned around quickly trying to flee his fate. A shot was heard, hitting his knee. With a loud thud he fell on the floor, and in an instant, Erwin had his other leg in one hand dragging him back to the room.
“Close the door,” he grumbled to the human. “Do it.”
The young executive did as he was told and Will was sealed in his tomb, where he would most definitely die.
Keeping his distance, he watched her. He saw her dark brown hair, which kept getting longer and was about to reach her shoulders, shining in the sunlight. The green pine trees before her. Her hair was longer now, much longer than she liked, probably. It wasn’t the only thing that had changed and he knew he was responsible for most of the changes she was going through. If it hadn’t been for his interference, Rebecca Sawyer would have stayed where she was, perhaps slowly dying inside, but she would have been human. Some days, he saw himself as her savior; others, as her executioner. To become a vampire meant many things, not one of them was easy. Many couldn’t live with their new reality. Many grew isolated as the years passed. It was because of the agency this hadn’t happened to him. Not yet. There were people here who cared for him, cared enough to worry about his well being. If it hadn’t been for them, she wouldn’t be standing under the sun today, waiting to go into battle.
Her heart was calm, beating steadily. She had changed in the short time he had known her, but not so much as she had in the last twenty-four hours. During that time she had not only killed her first werewolf, but was also beginning to understand her thoughts and feeling in a different way. The very essence of her being was changing even when deep down she still remained.
He liked watching her. He liked worrying about her, encouraging her to grow out of the shell that had trapped her for so many years. He had even admitted he loved her, something he doubted he would ever feel for anyone. He loved her more than…
The witch, Oralia, had asked them to wait outside the agency for her return. It was easier to come back to an open space, she explained. No matter how long Dylan knew the witches, he never could remember all of their rules, even one as simple as that. In his defense, he rarely worked directly with them; not an excuse, just a fact.
Behind him, the others waited, too. Vanessa and Isaac talked in confidence to one side. They were partners and lovers, Dylan knew as much. They were good werewolf hunters, as well, able to take more than one werewolf at a time, maybe more. Then there was Mitchell, with his shaved dark head and bushy eyebrows worried him most of all. He stood with both hands in his pockets, his face filled with a calm anger. He was a good warrior, yet the recent loss of his friend could cloud his judgment.
There was a chance they wouldn’t be needed at all, although Dylan doubted it. He believed Will was walking straight into a trap and yet he understood why the director had made him do it. He had to prove himself. Maybe if Scott hadn’t died it would have been a different story. Unfortunately, a werewolf hunter was dead, and in order to appease the others, Will would have to risk more than the vampires already had.
They weren’t waiting to see if Oralia would teleport back to ask for their support, it was more a matter of when.
Rebecca was too far away from the rest. If she cared as much for the boy as she said claimed, she needed to be closer to their group. When the witch appeared before them, she would take whoever was closest because of the urgency of the matter.
“Becca,” he stood next to her, feeling her whole body tense by his presence. If he had more experience with his feelings, he would have known what he was feeling was called jealousy. Before Will, she had only had eyes for him, after all. It was almost like he had owned her. Now, it seemed, he was being forced to share. His control over her was slipping. He shouldn’t be having those thoughts. Instead, he said, “She’ll be here soon.”
She turned to look at him, “How do you know?”
“It has to be a trap,” Dylan stated, “Even Lucius knows it.”
This seemed to enrage her, “If he knew, then why send him in the first place?”
It was too complicated to explain. Even in the vampire world, there were politics; rules that had to be followed to ensure peace between the immortals. “What did Will tell you when you fell out of the plane together?” he asked.
Turning back in the direction of the trees, she managed to calm herself enough to say, “Nothing.” It had been amazing to watch her go from anger to serenity so quickly. To hear her lie like it was easy. For a moment, Dylan hoped there would be something left of her when the vampire blood was done transforming her.
“We should go out to dinner,” he continued, “you know, after this is over?”
Before, she would have smiled. It would have made her day. Now, it was the last thing she wanted to hear. “Where is she? Where is Oralia?” she demanded, not to Dylan, but to the space before her. “You’re right,” she exhaled, “we should be together and closer to the building. I want us to be the first there. When we do, I will look for him and you will have my back.”
It sounded almost like an order, “Sure.”
Then, her human self finally came out. If only for a minute, her face changed, becoming vulnerable in a way Dylan could not understand. “Look, I know you don’t want him here, but he’s an innocent. It’s proof that we are not what we are on the outside.” She looked away, “You may not get this, but it matters. I want to believe we’re here to protect those who need protecting. I don’t care what he is, I know he needs us and I can’t let him down.”
“I understand,” he said. Dylan could only imagine what the werewolf had told her in the forest when they had been alone together.
The look on her face questioned him, “Do you? Understand?”
“Yes, Becca,” Dylan confessed, “I don’t want him to die, either.”
He wanted to tell her more. He wanted to tell her she had been right, he had been prejudiced. He wanted to let her know something in him told him William was telling the truth. He somehow knew he genuinely needed help. No matter what had happened, he believed the werewolf wasn’t at fault. It went against everything he believed and he hoped he wasn’t wrong.
“Anyway,” he sighed, “A lot has happened and we should talk.”
Rebecca opened her mouth to speak just as the air shifted, revealing a shape that soon turned into a woman.
“Oralia!” Rebecca ran to her, taking Dylan’s hand with hers.
“It’s a trap!” she shouted.
“Take us,” Rebecca pleaded, reaching to take the woman’s hand.
The door closed behind Will, with a huge man in front of him and his leg trying to push the bullet out of his flesh; this was not how Will had expected to die. He was scared, terrified; he knew the odds weren’t in his favor.
Erwin the werewolf was a sight to behold. Having thrown Will to the other side of the room, as far away from the only way out as possible, Will found himself trying to stan
d up grabbing the dozens of bronze security boxes behind him. That’s all the room was, really, three walls fill to the brim with security boxes of all sizes imaginable; one of them, his own.
Regrettably, a gigantic mass of muscle was blocking the way to the grand prize.
Will heard a clack when the bullet finally left his bleeding leg to bounce on the floor.
“Little Will,” said the tall, muscular man. “Tsk, tsk, you’ve been a naughty boy, I hear.”
It may have been survival instinct what made Will straighten up, the pain in his leg slowly disappearing. Managing to offer a smile, he said, “Erwin, right?” His voice changed to the New York accent he had used with the Chicago pack for over thirty years. “What do you mean, naughty, man? I got you lot to attack the vampire agency, didn’t I? It was all part of the plan.”
“Plan?” A loud raspy laugh came out of the tall werewolf, “I ain’t falling for that, boy.” With his grin, Erwin showed his growing long fangs; his eyes burning yellow. “I was sent here for one purpose, little Will, and one purpose only.”
Will laughed nervously, “To congratulate me, I hope,” he said. “Come on, man, you know it ain’t right, talk to Simon, or talk straight with Elias, they can tell you, man, it was all part of the plan. I swear!” It wasn’t, of course. All Will needed was time, didn’t he? He needed to give the vampires time to come to his rescue. Because they promised the would come, hadn’t they? He was counting on it. He was sure he had at least gotten to the young werewolf hunter, Rebecca. He had done his best to sound as human as he possibly could; as naive and vulnerable as he knew a woman like her could relate to.
He hadn’t lived decades to throw it all away like this. Now that he was so close to his goal, he refused to accept the following minutes would decide his ultimate fate.
Erwin gave a step forward; drool was coming out of his mouth, hair slowly grew from every pore on his face and arms. If Will hadn’t been so afraid for his life, he would have marveled at Erwin’s amazing ability to control his transformation. Will remembered when Elias, the Chicago pack’s Alpha, had recruited him. He remembered a human Erwin talking with the werewolves before he realized who he was dealing with. Erwin hadn’t been an accidental transformation, on the contrary, he had wanted the power, he had wanted the immortality that came with the werewolf blood. Since he would be doing what he did best, which was bullying anyone who crossed his path, it was the dream job for him. How could he refuse?
A shot was barely heard outside, both werewolves turned around to the door. Will used the opportunity to try and sneak past Erwin. With incredible speed, he slid behind his executioner, aiming for the door. Except the door was locked from the outside. No matter how many times he yelled ‘I’m here’ or pounded on the metal with his fist, it would not budge.
The laughter made him turn around, “Ah, little Will, always so naive. You think you’re so smart, don’t you? A silent alarm was triggered the moment you took a step inside this bank. Not even your friends will be able to help you now.” Then, “Now, give me the key, because we’re all dyin’ to know what’s behind mystery box number one.”
This was it, the moment of truth. Any minute now. Any minute. The door would open and he would be saved. The greatest werewolf hunter that ever lived would open the door, shoot Erwin, take out his heart, and then take Will to safety. Any minute now.
Paralyzed with fear, Will felt Erwin’s thick fingers curl around his neck. Will’s eyes opened wide in terror, finally realizing the truth. No one would come, no one would save him. Outside he could hear more shots being fired, but no one was coming to open the door. With a punch on his face, Will felt his jaw break, sending him flying to the other wall again. He almost lost consciousness before he felt his attacker holding him up by the neck one final time. There was a buzz in his ears, a blur in his eyes; yet he could clearly see the big hand aiming for his chest as it dove to take out his heart.
Dylan felt something had gone wrong as he materialized in the new coordinates. Apart from the feeling of nausea he usually felt after teleporting, a condition he had learned to suppress over the years, he had felt another mass occupying his space. An older woman was pushed as he suddenly became visible and tangible sending her to the floor right in the middle of the bank. The crowd immediately turned to look at the new visitors, aghast. Oralia ran to help the old, innocent lady who had been hurt in the process of helping two vampires travel to save a werewolf.
“Move!” he ordered Dylan, pushing him to the side and hurrying to help the old woman.
Dylan barely had any time to register what was happening when he heard Rebecca, “Where is Will?” She was talking to the witch, who didn’t seem to have any time for anything but helping the human woman who had been pushed to the floor, apologizing incessantly as she did.
It didn’t take Dylan long to assess the situation at hand. “They’re coming,” he said almost to himself. Outside, he heard the sirens rushing to their location. Police cars filled with werewolves posing as police officers would soon surround them with the intent to kill them. In his mind, there were only two possible scenarios, they would either need to take care of all the werewolves that were about to attack or teleport back to the agency leaving Will and his information behind.
It turned out to be an easy decision to make. “Oralia, we need the others… now!”
He took her arm and shook her, letting her drop the old woman again. Oralia turned to look at him in disgust, as if he was asking the impossible. “I will not teleport back here, did you not see what happened, you insufferable monster?”
Dylan took a deep breath, “I don’t care where you bring them, just bring them. Do you understand? We need them! We need them or all these precious humans are going to die!”
“He’s in the back!” he heard Rebecca say, clearly not interested in the fact they were about to go back to battle.
The witch narrowed her eyes, releasing herself from Dylan’s hold. For a moment she stared at him in defiance. Then, realization came to her eyes. “You’re right.” Turning to look at the crowd, she added, “Help them,” before disappearing again.
“She disappeared!” a man’s voice gasped. The crowd, who had been frozen before, suddenly came back to life. Women and men alike began to scream, aiming for the door. Dylan ran to the old woman on the floor and raised her to her feet easily.
Outside, the werewolves posing as cops were getting out of their cars. Only a few customers were able to leave the bank, the rest were being pushed back by these usurpers in uniforms trying to get inside. Dylan fired a shot to the ceiling and the crowd, screaming, took cover.
“Get behind the registers and stay there!” he ordered. To his surprise, most humans began to do what they had been told. The few that didn’t, tried to go to the police for help, which ended up in tragedy. The werewolves shot them, hit them, kicked them or pushed those who had come for their help without regard.
Rebecca was nowhere in sight. It seemed the best werewolf hunter in the world would either prove his worth or die trying. Alone.
There wasn’t any more time to waste. Dylan began to shoot werewolves. One shot in the head was enough to stop them while he came up with a plan. One, two, three shots. The werewolf hunter jumped on the first, his hand straight and strong as it pierced the skin and bone to grab onto the first heart of the day. He jumped to the next body still not healed from the head wound and did the same. The rest of the werewolves were coming in through the one narrow door into the bank, now half transformed into their beastly forms. Dylan shot, punched, kicked, jumped and did what he did best while his partner tried to rescue a werewolf just like them.
Did it even make sense? Was it worth dying for a werewolf? There wasn’t time to think, no time for regrets or self-doubt. Dylan had a job to do and he was going to do it. Soon, back up would come, he was sure.
He reloaded his gun, he shot again. The pile of corpses started to accumulate in front of the door forming some kind of barricade. This slowe
d the incoming of wolves, but not stopped them. He evaded a blow, but there was a sharp pain in his back as one of the werewolves clawed him, sending him flat on the floor. No matter how well he could predict the movements of his enemies, he wasn’t omnipotent. He managed to shoot a couple more werewolves straight on the head, but another fell on top of him, reaching for his heart. It was too many of them, he was not going to make it. He needed Rebecca. If he wasn’t careful, he could end up like Scott. No. He had to hold on. Damn it, Becca, he thought.
Finally, he heard more shots. Backup had arrived. Oralia had come through.
“We’re here, Dylan,” he heard Isaac say, “and we’re getting these sons of bitches!”
Hearing this gave Dylan newfound strength. Pushing the attacking werewolf with his legs, he sprang on top of it ripping its heart out. In the back of his mind, he hoped Rebecca was somewhere with Will, saving the boy and retrieving the information they so desired. He was ready to put an end to all of it. He was ready to take down The One.
She heard him, she heard Will’s voice behind the thick metal door. He was in danger, she could tell by his tone, the beating of his heart. Sadly, no matter how hard she tried, she could not unlock the door. All she was able to do was dent it as she punched it over and over with her fists, making them bleed.
Nothing. It was futile. Inside, Will was about to die and she wouldn’t be able to save him. She would be too late. She would fail in protecting someone who needed protecting. Taking a step back, feeling defeated, she realized she was not alone. To her right, there was a desk, and behind that desk, there was a man. The man was crying, shivering and clearly afraid. Afraid of her.
Walking to the desk, she took it with one hand moving it like it weighed nothing. The man kneeling behind it, now exposed, covered his head with his arms as he pleaded for his life. “Please!” he cried, “I have a family, three kids.” Rebecca heard him, grabbing his arm to force him to stand up, regardless. She then dragged him in front of the metallic door.
Werewolf Phenomenon Page 20
