by S. L. Eaves
Looking at the refined creature seated across from me, it is hard to believe him a ruthless killer. His notorious ‘fly off the handle’ temper seems all smoke and mirrors to me.
“A man I once knew said, ‘When the honorable lay down their swords, the weak will die and evil will reign supreme.’”
As if he is reading my mind. “Does that make us the honorable ones? The heroes?”
“Either that or it makes us the weak.”
“Weak or strong, without evil, without enemies, we have no heroes,” I respond.
Marcus raises his eyebrows, eyes still studying the board.
“But without heroes we have only ourselves to blame.”
“The eternal struggle.”
He moves his pawn.
“You think us nothing more than a cliché?” He speaks without looking up.
My eyes go to the board.
He continues, “We fight because we have to, but we also fight because there are those that cannot. Those that need protecting. Those necessary to keep the balance intact.”
I move my bishop and meet his gaze. “Understood. But that implies we are the good, we are the courageous, the honorable, when there is little redeeming about our kind. Our breed exists as a catalyst for destruction.”
Marcus smiles. “The same could be said for humans.”
He takes my bishop with one subtle sleight of hand, replacing it with his knight. He continues, “Vampires cannot be heroes?”
“Just because we are fighting something evil doesn’t make us good. All I’m sayin’.” I concentrate on the board.
“This mansion is filled with warriors. Without werewolves, without adversaries, who would we be? Where would the inner demon focus its energy?” Marcus sighs. “The hunger is not simply for dinner; it’s for something much deeper, something primordial. And if we can find an enemy to feed it, well, it helps to have something to fight for.”
I’m not comfortable with the illusion that we are the nobler of the species. But in the absence of the illusion there is a reality I am more fearful to know.
I slide my queen across the board.
“Checkmate.”
Chapter 17
Twilight settles in on the quaint London park. Tamik and Jake are enjoying each other’s company. Having spread out a large, comfy blanket across the park grass, they are blissfully oblivious to the world around them. Reckless and uninhibited—this was how it’d been before the change, and it remains so even after. Now their little bubble is about to burst and reality will come crashing in to strike them down. Brutal and tragic, as it were.
And I’ve been assigned to be the one to deliver this message, so to speak. My first official mission. Finally.
I’d exercised patience, following Jake around, familiarizing myself with his world. But he is moving fast. A number of maulings have been reported in the area. And he’d bitten his fiancé on my watch. I expected him to retreat from his life after being bit, as many chose to deal with it solitarily or join up with fellow wolves. They do not typically share the news of their new freakish condition with loved ones, let alone invite them into it.
Now there is a pair of wolves terrorizing campers and tourists throughout Argyll Forest Park, an otherwise peaceful and breathtaking region of Scotland. I have managed to trace Jake back to the wolf that turned him, a recruiter who left Jake with instructions to form a pack of his own. Dade is now going after the recruiter, probably this very minute. I am on clean-up duty.
It was foolish to act so brazenly, to shit where he ate—literally and figuratively. You are not untouchable, none of us are. Makes him an easy mark. You would think the wolf that turned him would have at least advised him against blatant, headline-worthy kills. But then again maybe his recruiter had been betting on a distraction. He’d certainly bet correctly. And, upon observing him and his female companion, they do not seem the least bit phased by the added police presence in the park. I stand motionless at the edge of the clearing, roughly fifty yards away from where the two are otherwise occupied.
Tamik pulls Jake closer, unbuttoning his shirt. He leans forward, pushing her onto the blanket under him. After a moment, he lifts his head and looks around. He can’t discern what his new senses are indicating, but they are trying to tell him something.
“You’re distracted,” she scowls.
“I think someone’s nearby.”
He hasn’t spotted me yet.
“They’ll bugger off.” She kisses his cheek.
He whiffs the air. That’s when he catches a glimpse of a figure standing in the distance. He freezes, squinting. There is someone there all right, staring right at them.
“Look.”
Tamik twists her body around for a better view.
A moment passes. Neither party moves. Finally Tamik breaks the silence.
“Hey. Can we help you?” She yells in my direction.
Jake is on his knees. He can sense there is something off.
“Strange. Let’s just leave.”
They begin to gather their clothes.
I wait. I can take them out from where I stand. Possibly. My marksmanship needs work. But I had hoped to catch them while they were out hunting in wolf form. I’ve already taken to calling them by their names and not as faceless targets. In my commitment to learning about them, I’d become invested and now I’m wrestling with the idea of executing them in cold blood, knowing full well I will not get a better opportunity than the one I just gave up.
There is another way to look at my first assignment: that it should test my skills, that I should challenge myself. Give them a fighting chance. From where I stand, it’s almost too easy to just fire off a few silver shots and be done with it. I want to taste what the others have. I want that rush.
I take several steps in their direction. I am holding a gun at my side, close enough that they likely can’t spot it outright. The cartridge is in my other hand; I twirl it lightly between my fingers. This action catches their attention.
“Hey creep, you don’t know who you’re messing with!” Tamik calls out.
I continue my slow and steady approach. Raising my gun as I close in.
Bang.
I fire a warning shot over their heads. It achieves the desired reaction.
It is likely they know they can control certain aspects of their affliction, but being newly turned, they don’t have a firm grasp on their abilities. A high-stress situation provokes the change almost immediately.
But they do not charge me as I expected. Instead Jake takes to the woods for cover, barreling full speed on all fours. Tamik scrambles after him.
So I give chase, racing in pursuit as they tear through the thick brush, leaving a trail of snapped limbs in their wake. They try to stick together, but eventually fear and instinct prevail. Given the way they had been behaving, particularly Jake, it is amusing to me how easy it’d been to scare them. One lone vampire with a gun and they take off running, tails between their legs.
Do they not realize the strength they possess? Even under a new moon, acting together, they’d have posed a threat. Together they’d have stood a chance.
We come upon another clearing. Jake sprints foolishly into the open field; then, as if realizing his mistake, bolts left to take cover.
It is too late. I fire off several rounds, striking him in the side, back, and eventually the head.
He reverts to human form and falls to the ground, lifeless and riddled with bullets. I stop along the tree line and hang few yards back in anticipation of his companion. It doesn’t take her long. Reaching the clearing, she returns to human form and falls to her knees in horror.
“Jake! Oh God, Jake!”
Shaking, she checks him repeatedly, running her fingers over the wounds on his body.
“No! Don’t leave me, Jake! No!”
He shows no signs of life. From where I stand I can hear only one heartbeat. She wipes dirt from his face, kissing him, sobbing, trembling. Her tears run down onto his
face. Lifting her head, she glances around. Perhaps looking for help, perhaps looking for his killer, perhaps self-preservation instincts are beginning to override emotion and somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind it occurs to her his killer might be standing right behind her.
My finger freezes on the trigger. I can’t do it. My target is no longer a menacing beast. A shot rings out from behind me. I watch Tamik’s body turn rigid before collapsing onto Jake’s.
Their wounds connect as she bathes his body in her blood.
Catch emerges from the woods. “I had to take the shot.”
“Yeah, yeah…I dunno what came over me. The finger wouldn’t budge.”
I regard these two casualties of war with sad eyes. They could just as easily be me and Catch. I shudder at the thought and turn to Catch, whose expression registers chagrin. Surely the gunfire has alerted someone, but we don’t stick around to find out.
***
One short train ride later and we are back at the mansion. Catch goes to give Marcus his report. I am still riled up from the chase, adrenalin or the vampire equivalent radiating through my body. It isn’t hunger. It is something else. I go straight to the pummel bag in the training room.
All I had to do was pull a trigger. Looking back now I feel no remorse. But I feel as if I should. That part of my humanity, the part that kept me from firing that shot—it is clear to me now that it is my biggest obstacle. In another situation, that humanity would be my downfall. I understand now that Adrian and Catch are right. About everything. And it makes me sick. I hit the bag harder.
“Hey luv, can I get in on some of that action?”
Catch picks up a staff and begins spinning it gracefully beside him. I turn from the striking bag, tattered cloth dangling from my left hand. I fix the hand wrap, snatch a wooden staff from the wall, and join Catch on the mat.
Catch is putting on a show, stretching and grunting, goading me on.
“You’re in a good mood.”
“You know it. Dade snagged and bagged the recruiter.”
“Great. We get some useful information out of him?”
“Indeed. The sod was working for a werewolf named Alex. We’re working our way up the ranks. Dade even got an address before he bled out.”
“That so?”
The room echoes as our staffs strike and slice through the air with an audible whoosh.
I am weaker on my left side and Catch identifies it immediately.
“We’re going after this Alex bloke. Tomorrow night. It took some convincing, but Marcus gave us the go ahead.”
“You tell him I froze?”
“I told him you completed a successful hunt. Which is mostly true. Don’t worry, first time killing anything…It’s not supposed to be easy. You’ll get there.”
He slams my side with a force that would crack a couple ribs if I were still human. I fall back on the mat. My staff spears the mat and I propel myself upright with one swift motion. The pain of the impact has subsided by the time I gain my footing.
I jump, dodging his blow, throwing one back. It clips slightly, but his bojutsu is advanced and he is too good. Too fast. I barely land a hit. If I am lucky I make contact with his staff, but I have yet to land a body blow.
My feet strike the wall and I vault into Catch. He catches my side and pushes me past him and over his head. I manage to land upright and spin to face him. He is already countering and I have to jump to avoid another blow.
I swing my staff down hard and strike his head, almost accidently. He stumbles and I take advantage of the momentum. Faster. Harder. His knees buckle at the second blow and he hits the mat. I jump him instantly; his staff knocks my weapon loose. My knee lands in his gut and I begin punching his chest.
He drops his staff and brings his hands up defensively.
“Lori! Stop it!”
He grabs my wrists and yanks me off him.
“Are you mad? What’s gotten into you?”
I collapse. He kneels by me and I pull him close, burying my face in his shoulder. We sit together like this in the middle of the room for a while. Catch strokes my hair.
“I should not have brought you out tonight. Too soon.”
I shake my head, pushing away from him. “I killed someone.”
“He was a monster. He was a killer. And he would have surely turned more.”
“Before tonight.”
He raises his eyebrows. “With Crina?”
Again I shake my head. Over and over I’d played out my confession to Catch. But in reality, it is much harder to say out loud.
“At NYU. Before we left. This girl—my roommate’s girlfriend—caught me in front of a mirror and freaked out. I didn’t know how to explain it, so I just fled. She tried to stop me. I hit her. Hard. I forgot what I was. The blow knocked her into the wall and broke her neck. It was a freak accident. My roommate witnessed the whole thing, so I panicked and killed him too…I think. Oh God, Catch! I try every day to forget. To pretend—if no one knew the truth—it never happened.”
Catch grips me tightly and we lock eyes.
“You think?”
“Huh?”
“You said ‘you think’ you killed your friend, the roommate.”
“Oh, uh, I, I bit him. When I realized what I was doing, when I regained control, I pulled away and fled. He wasn’t conscious, but I dunno…I didn’t hear a heartbeat. There could have been one I wasn’t really listening. All I could think of was that there couldn’t be any witnesses. That he was going to expose me, possibly us and get us all killed. I was worried about Adrian retaliating—How fucked up is that? —so I went for him instinctively, then something human pushed through the thirst and pulled me out of the frenzy. I released him, but he didn’t look alive. I’d taken a lot of his blood.”
I decide not to mention the 9-1-1 call.
“Was anyone else in the house at the time?”
I shake my head.
“Okay…It’s okay. You hadn’t been there for weeks. Why would you reappear just to kill them? No motive. No evidence. Nothing for authorities to point to other than your disappearance. The timing is suspect, they’ll likely try to find you.”
“My past as human…it wasn’t exactly spotless. I mean I didn’t murder anyone but I had a history of violence. It’s possible they’d think I did it.”
This doesn’t seem to be news to Catch. I read his face as he formulates possibilities. All it’d take was one person witnessing me fleeing the house alone and bloody. Given my track record, recent court appearance, probation, it’d be easy to speculate. In all my haste I think I’d left the envelope with money and note on my door. But that could have been left anytime that day, I doubt the other roommates would’ve noticed it right away. And if anything it makes me look innocent. If I hurt them why leave a letter and rent money. Still, it doesn’t change the fact I left New York a killer.
“Well, look at it this way. Not to sound insensitive, but worst case scenario—for you—is the roommate survived. Even then, no one will believe him, what he saw, how it happened. And no one will be looking for you on this side of the pond.”
“I’m pretty sure he was dead when I left.”
My recollection is hazy but I think there was a faint pulse. Can he sense my lie?
“Hmm…okay.”
He squeezes my shoulders reassuringly.
“I’m glad you told me. I know it must have been a burden. A secret of that magnitude. You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here for you. Always.”
We stand up. I nod and hug him for the millionth time. “That’s what I love about you. I’m going to take a shower and call it a day. How about you join me?”
As we leave I notice his eyes glance up at the mirrors above. It doesn’t quite register at the time, but I’m not naive enough to think those mirrors were hung for aesthetics.
Chapter 18
As dusk falls, a storm brews outside. Having spent the last few hours lying atop my comforter staring like a zom
bie at the paint cracks in the ceiling, I abandon hope of a refreshing, post-confession slumber and walk out onto my balcony to watch the clouds darken and the sky flash in brilliant surges. Catch, awakening to an empty bed, joins me outside. His arms wrap around me as we look up at the threatening sky.
I feel such a strong connection to him. He is right; I can’t spend time lamenting past sins. Best I can do is try for redemption; save some lives to tip the scales. It won’t erase what I’ve done, but I can try my damnedest to repent. He’d given me a fresh start, whether I wanted it or not. And now nothing else matters.
We lock eyes and I run my fingers through his shaggy black hair, letting the rain drops slick it back. The rain grows heavier and we move inside.
“We’ve got an address in Paris from the recruiter.” Catch pours some breakfast.
“Dade coming?”
“No, just us on this one. Marcus is giving us a chance to prove ourselves in the field. The trick will be getting information out of him. They aren’t big on talking. For that matter, I’m not big on asking questions.”
***
I’ve never been to Paris. It is a stunningly beautiful city. One which I promise myself I’ll return to when it isn’t for…business. We pace around a towering 32-story apartment building located along the Seine. This skyscraper that nearly dwarfs the nearby Eiffel Tower is the residence of our target. Alex’s apartment is unit 2902; from there you can most likely see the entire Paris cityscape.
“Game plan?”
“We tranquilize him, restrain him, and when he comes to we find out what his end game is. He is likely working for someone, so we have to keep following the chain until we reach the alpha.”
“Okay, let’s see if he’s home.”
The guard at the front desk is absorbed in whatever game he has on his tablet. We walk by casually and hop the elevator. The hallway is uninhabited and we make our way to the door displaying 2902 in shiny rounded pewter. Catch presses his ear against the door.
“I hear music.”
We both listen to the David Bowie track playing.
