by A. D. Ryan
August 25, 1907
Everything is...confusing. My head, it feeds me images that I am uncertain whether or not to believe. They feel like they could be memories, but at the same time are so far-fetched that they cannot possibly be real.
I went out searching for Gianna every night since seeing her outside my bedroom window. I waited in the garden for her to come to me, but she never did...until the other night. I think. The way she moved as she approached me was otherworldly. She practically floated, reaching her hand out toward me. Her voice was hypnotic as she held me, whispering promises of forever.
That was when the wolves came... I wondered if it was just my memory playing tricks on me again. Perhaps I had dreamed this entire event, wanted it so badly that my subconscious created it all.
I awoke on the grass the following morning. It was when I pushed myself up that I realized my arm was bleeding beneath my shirt. As I pulled the sleeve back, I came to the realization that I had, indeed, encountered wolves that night, and I had been bitten by one. Ever since then, I have been dreaming of wolves, running with them, hunting... I just cannot figure out why.
August 26, 1907
A strange man appeared at my door yesterday afternoon. He told me stories of men who turned to wolves when the moon was full. I had half a mind to slam the door in his face when he told me in great detail what had happened in my own yard the other night. It was eerie, and I remembered that the moon was, indeed, full that night. He had promised to check in on me, telling me that I may have been infected by some sort of virus. That I might become...one of them in a month’s time.
October 12, 1907
It has been a while since my last entry. I have been busy with my lessons and have learned a great deal over these last weeks. Creatures like vampires and werewolves exist, and are not just tales spun in novels. I work hard every day to control what I have become—a werewolf—and I have been educated on the threat to our existence.
From what I have been told, vampires and wolves never crossed paths intentionally. They were able to exist in the world without so much as encountering one another. Until the vampires had become a little too greedy and risked exposing the supernatural world to the humans. They had grown careless in their feeding habits, and the wolves had to take it upon themselves to police them.
As I learned more about what I had become, I also became aware of what Gianna now was: a vampire. And, newly turned, she was one of the worst ones. Her thirst would seem unquenchable, no matter how many bodies she had drained. She needed to be stopped, but a large part of me fought the idea.
I flipped through several more years of entries, learning about vampires. Most of what we’d been sold through the media was actually true. They burned in direct sunlight; wooden stakes through the heart and decapitation were the most effective ways to kill them. Crosses and holy water, however? Totally useless.
January 3, 1909
My son, Reginald, was born today. I had once thought that taking Catherine as my wife was the day my life started, but it was not. Today, the moment I locked eyes with my boy, was when life truly began.
Having lived with the Pack for a little while now, I had learned that it was possible to have a family in this life, but it still warmed my heart to read of the origins to how my Pack had started. I turned another few pages. There weren’t any entries, instead the pages were filled with newspaper clippings from all over North America. They mentioned mysterious murders or missing persons, then there would be follow up notations by Pack members about how they found these people—changed—and disposed of them permanently. While Gianna had been able to elude the Pack, bits and pieces of her ever-expanding army hadn’t. Perhaps that was part of how she managed it; she used them as diversions. Sacrificed them for her own survival.
One more journal entry caught my attention, and I knew this was what escalated the war between the races.
September 16, 1911
It has taken me weeks to write this entry. I am still struggling with what happened, and I simply cannot find the words to express what I am feeling.
Alas, if I do not include this in the dossiers, then I risk valuable information being lost to the Pack. What I started as a simple journal has now become a resource often referred to when hunting or training new members.
Which brings me to this newest entry.
In an act of retaliation, Gianna attacked the Pack this evening. There were many casualties, including our Pack Alpha and my dear wife, Catherine. Gianna and her army infiltrated the manor tonight and attacked us in our sleep. I didn’t have time to attempt saving my wife, having to go after Gianna as she tried to snatch my son from his crib. She had him in her arms when I found her, and I immediately saw red. I controlled the building change so I could take my son from her when I ripped her apart. While I was successful in the first part of that plan, I failed in the second, and Gianna got away.
Her attack on my family drove me to the edge of madness, and I immediately assumed the title of Pack Alpha. I vowed on my wife’s grave that I would absolutely avenge her death, whatever it took. It was time to put my feelings aside. Gianna was no longer my sister. She was the demon that took my sister’s body, and I needed to put my sister to rest.
I continued to read on through the years. Marcus’ great-grandfather sounded like a fearless leader in the wake of his Alpha’s death, and his son, Reginald was equally as strong. It was no doubt Marcus was the amazing Alpha he was; it was in his blood.
When I got to the most recent journal entries, I learned everything I could about how the Pack had tracked Bobby after taking Cordelia until his scent just vanished in the mountains. No one could determine how that was possible and searched for months. They even took shifts sleeping in the wild, hoping to stumble upon the hidden lair. Even that didn’t lead to any answers.
I looked up from the book, glancing out the window at the mountains in the distance as I let this all swirl around in my head until it all fell into place. Surely they’d have checked cave-like entrances in the mountains, so how else could the vampires just vanish like that?
I ran over every rational theory before I realized this was probably my first mistake. The existence of vampires and werewolves wasn’t rational, so why would the answer to this mystery be? It would make even more sense to think outside my usual comfort zone. I wouldn’t be looking for a locked cellar door or a second property out in the middle of nowhere. I wouldn’t be looking at a group of deranged killers merely squatting in the mouth of a cave. It would make more sense to look deeper…
Before I could let my thoughts continue down this path and toward a possible theory, a loud roar startled me, making my heart skip a beat and my entire body to break out in a cold sweat.
Karl was awake. And he was pissed.
“MARCUS!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the house until the vibration of it settled in my bones as an out of control tremor.
My heart hammered painfully as my anxiety spiked, and I wished that Nick would return soon. I realized I told him to stay out there and search diligently, but I couldn’t handle this. My mind flashed back to the other night again as the cage rattled from downstairs. Karl cursed aloud. He’d burned himself on the bars; I could smell traces of his charred flesh wafting up to the main level and it made me gag.
The cage rattled again, forcing my body to tense in preparation of the moment the door snapped off its hinges and he escaped only to find me alone in the house with him. Part of me didn’t doubt this was a possibility. I knew how strong he was—how powerful—while I wasn’t. Not anymore…
“Then you need to take it back.”
Jackson’s words pushed through the confusing darkness that currently filled my head. Take it back. Something about this suggestion made the horrifying memories in my head evaporate slowly as if they were nothing more than a bad dream. I knew they were still very real—could still remember how his hot breath smelled as he bit down around my neck—but in that moment, they didn’t fe
el real. It was all kind of foggy.
Slowly, I stood from the library table, and before I realized what I was doing, I wandered through the house and toward the basement stairs. It was like I was watching myself from above as I moved through the house; something else was in control. It didn’t take long for me to recognize the wolf.
Karl’s screaming grew louder, and the trembling in my hands had slowed substantially. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do—what I could do—but a part of me wanted to make sure he was still secure in the cage.
Even if that meant I would be in the same room as him for a brief moment.
It wasn’t until I arrived in the basement that I questioned my motives. I could feel my rage building, burning through my veins with each step that brought me closer to my attacker, and I wondered if I was capable of more than just a routine check. It only took me a second to realize I wanted to hurt him. Badly.
I knew he was weak and vulnerable with the silver and tranquilizers in his system, and it awakened a malicious, vindictive side of me that craved his fear. I wanted to eat it up the way he must have the other night.
Was this what Jackson meant? Could confronting Karl be the key to getting my life back on track? The wolf seemed to think so.
I stood in front of the huge wooden door that led to the pit. The human side of me tried to talk my wolf side out of what it wanted to do. It begged and pleaded to go back upstairs and wait for Nick and the rest of the Pack to return, but the wolf snapped, forcing the human into submission.
That was when I felt the first bit of power surge through my veins, settling in the tips of my fingers and warming my blood. This instilled a little of my confidence, and I reached out and grabbed the door handle.
Karl had stopped screaming a couple minutes earlier, so all I could hear as I took the first stair was his labored breath. I descended the stairs slowly, giving my eyes enough time to adjust to the darkness as I headed below ground. The dank air reeked of old water and Karl’s sweat as I got closer. His anger still thickened the air, even though he’d exhausted himself with his tantrum. As I picked up on all these subtle notes coming together in the musty air, I wondered if he smelled me coming or if the silver nitrate had weakened all of his senses. Had it kept him numb and unaware of my arrival?
My heart raced wildly the closer I got, but it wasn’t fear anymore. It transformed into something akin to wicked excitement as more adrenaline flooded my veins. When I hit the last stair, I noticed that the pit was dimly lit, possibly to disorient Karl in his weakened state, and everything appeared to be in order when I compared it to the first time I’d been down here.
On the little wooden table that stood in the center of the room were syringes—some full, some empty—and a few vials. Then there was the cage. The small eight-by-eight cell now housed a sturdy-looking cot with the thinnest of blankets and a flat-looking pillow. Atop the temporary bed was the reason I’d come down here in the first place.
His skin looked almost ashen, but I couldn’t be sure if it was from being in here the last few days and not having the luxury of going outside and soaking up a little sun, the silver nitrate having a stronger effect than I’d thought it would, or if it was just the shitty lighting that came from the table-top lamp and flickering light.
The plate that Miranda had made for him sat on the floor of the cage, all of the food eaten off it, meaning Karl had a fresh dose of silver in his veins. The sweat on his brow and his shallow breathing also indicated this.
Slowly, Karl let his face lift in my direction, and his dry lips parted into a nasty smile. “Well, well, well,” he said, his voice hoarse and weak-sounding as it rasped and cracked with every word. “If it isn’t Little Red Riding Hood. You get lost on your way to Grannie’s house?”
Chapter 20 | power
His head turned toward me slowly, eyes glassy, pupils dilated. The smile that formed on his dry lips was cocky, and I had the strong urge to slap it right off his smug face. Any apprehension I may have still had flitted away, leaving only my anger and hurt; my thirst for retribution was undeniable.
The wolf had taken over, but the human stayed close, skimming the surface of my consciousness and watching as though concealed behind the two-way mirror of an interrogation room. The only way I could explain what came over me was that the wolf was protecting the human; protecting any vulnerability Karl might have been able chip away at, but it did it while in the body I was most confident in. It recognized my reservations, and for that, I was extremely grateful. Perhaps we could work together.
I stepped forward, my gait noticeably changed—graceful, confident . . . predatory—and I ran my finger along the edge of the table, dragging my nail down the aged wood. “So I suppose you think that makes you the Big Bad Wolf?” I pondered, cocking my head to the side as my eyes found his. I barely recognized my own voice, but I didn’t dwell on it long, enjoying the power that surged through my veins.
It was just a flash, but I recognized terror in his eyes before he shook it off, and I smirked at him, stopping within inches of the cage door. “Well, I hate to break it to ya, Karl, but I think you’ve got your roles a little mixed up in this particular fairy tale.” His face remained static, but I heard his heartbeat stutter before picking up in pace, and I inhaled deeply when the air became infused with the tiniest hint of his fear.
I licked my bottom lip hungrily, imagining what it would feel like to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until he begged for mercy. The human was shouting something from her little room, banging on the glass, but I couldn’t hear her; she was slipping farther away with every advance the wolf made.
As if he was trying to throw me off, he stood up. I studied him carefully. His legs looked a little unsteady, but he was quick to right himself, feigning his confidence. I’d almost forgotten how tall he was as he loomed over me, the cage door the only thing between us. He looked down at me through narrowed eyes, trying his best to intimidate me, but his attempt was futile.
I was beyond his scare tactics at this point. The wolf had taken over completely, and it wanted revenge for the other night. It wanted its strength back as much as I did.
“Look who’s trying to be tough,” he said, his voice rough, yet still hoarse. “I think it only fair to tell you that it doesn’t suit you.” He leaned in as close to the bars as he could without letting his skin come into contact with them. “I prefer you much better when you’re meek and whimpering.” He lowered his voice to a gruff whisper. “When I can taste your fear on my tongue.”
With a vicious snarl, my hand flew between the bars with precision, and I grabbed the front of Karl’s shirt. I yanked him forward so hard the cage door rattled as I held him against it, snaking my other arm through to hold the back of his head in place. Even beneath his roars, I heard the sizzle of his skin, smelled it, and could even see the smoke rising off his flesh.
He screamed and brought his hands up out of instinct, grabbing the bars to try and push himself off of it, but immediately jerked them back when they, too, started to sizzle and burn. Even though my arm never touched the bars, I could feel the warmth from the silver on my skin. It grew hotter by the second, but I maintained my position, refusing to let Karl see weakness in me again.
“You’re fucking crazy!” Karl roared, still trying to pull out of my grip. The silver in his system was doing its intended job of keeping him weak. Was it fair that I was at full strength and he wasn’t? Probably not, but I learned the other night that Karl wasn’t someone who typically fought fair.
I could feel my humanity trying to claw its way to the surface of my subconscious, screaming at me to stop and think about what I was doing. I knew my behavior bordered on barbaric and that I should stop, but the power I held over Karl all of a sudden was intoxicating. I was high on it, and my head swam in a haze of pleasure. I allowed it to envelope me, and I basked in my control. I succumbed to it, inhaling it deeply…but it wasn’t just Karl’s fear that infused the air; there was another wolf in the
room. One that was stronger…more authoritative…
My need for revenge snapped back like an elastic band, and I withdrew my arms from between the cage bars, taking several dazed steps back as I turned to find Marcus at the bottom of the stairs. His eyebrows were pulled together with what looked like disapproval and his arms were crossed in front of him. His body language spoke volumes, and I struggled with the words that could properly convey how sorry I was…
Or was I? Maybe I struggled with my apology because I wasn’t sorry.
“Marcus,” I said, my voice wavering and barely audible. He heard me, though.
“What’s going on down here?” he demanded, taking a step forward, his eyes leaving me and landing on Karl.
I glanced over to see Karl making quite the dramatic production, falling back onto his cot as he struggled for breath. All I could do was roll my eyes. What a drama queen.
“You keep her away from me!” Karl snarled, pointing an accusing finger at me.
I turned my gaze back to Marcus, ready to defend myself, but I watched as his lips quirked up into an amused smirk. “Or what?” he asked, surprising me…and Karl, who looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Are you kidding?” Karl demanded. “You saw what she was doing to me!”
My jaw dropped and my blood boiled in my veins as my anger spiked again. I turned toward the cage, lips pulled back in a silent snarl. “What I was doing to you?” I demanded through gritted teeth.
Marcus’ hand fell on my shoulder, giving me a comforting squeeze. “Easy,” he ordered before turning a murderous glare Karl’s way. “You know how this works. You wrong a member of the Pack, and they alone decide your fate.”
“You sent her down here, didn’t you?” Karl demanded, standing up and advancing on us both.
“I assure you, I did nothing of the sort. I came home from a perimeter run before the others and found the house eerily quiet, so I came to check on you.” He shrugged. “Low and behold, Brooke seems to have a pretty firm grasp on our ways. Good to see, by the way,” he added, smiling down at me supportively.
