Whispered Bonds

by Tally Adams

  Werewolves. Of all the ridiculous…she groaned. Only she could come across a group of werewolves!

  Information is power. We need to know as much about them as possible, he said with enough calm to irritate her.

  If you're real, I'm going to strangle you when I find you, she informed him hotly. She glanced out at the surrounding darkness and decided there was no way she was getting out of the car with a whole group of werewolves waiting to eat her.

  Forget it, she said flatly.

  "Come out, come out, wherever you are," the unseen man sang mockingly.

  She didn't respond.

  "Are you connected to him right now?" It sounded more like a taunt than a question. "I hope so. Tell him how scared you are. Remind him you’re his. It was his responsibility to protect you." He laughed. The sound was slightly shrill and made her cringe. "He failed."

  With a mental shake, Lyric reminded herself she was safe. Safe-ish, anyway. After all, if they could get to her, they would have already done so. Knowing he was just trying to scare her, however, didn't make it any less effective.

  What's happening? asked the voice that reminded her she wasn't completely alone.

  Lyric absently realized how ironic it was to have the same voice she considered a curse become her only source of comfort. But this night, she wasn't going to fight it. Who cared if he was real or not? In her current situation, it didn't matter in the slightest. She let the comfort of the familiar sound wash through her and offer a measure of strength.

  Cowering in the darkness wasn't an option, she decided. A disembodied voice left too much room for the imagination to work. She needed to see who was talking; to give her tormentor a face. With a new determination, she squared her shoulders and quickly pulled the car in a circle to see the speaker, careful not to let even the edge of a tire leave the church grounds.

  Her headlights spilled across the face of a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties. His hair was dirty blonde and greasy, plastered against his head in matted clumps that framed a thin trickle of blood that ran down from his forehead. His eyes sparkled with a frantic excitement, and his mouth was pulled back in a sneer. His chest was bare, exposing a gaunt, fragile-looking frame. With the background of darkness pressing around him, his pale skin stood out like a candle. He wore what looked like cut-off sweatpants and nothing else. Even his feet were bare. Four enormous wolves stood around him; two on each side.

  Lyric swallowed hard, her eyes riveted to the beasts. Werewolves, she reminded herself. One of them took a threatening step forward and crouched down, as if about to pounce. Smoke rose from the most forward paw and the wolf jerked it back with a startled yelp.

  The man in the center snarled something at it, then turned his attention back to Lyric. "Come to us willingly and we won't hurt you," he said.

  "Yeah, right," Lyric muttered, feeling significantly braver now that she'd seen for herself they really couldn't get to her.

  A look of anger flashed across the man's face and gave her pause.

  There was no way he could have heard her. The car windows were rolled up and the engine was running. It was impossible. Wasn't it? She snorted aloud, taking in the werewolves she was watching from the front lawn of an abandoned church. Possible and impossible no longer held sway this night.

  "Come to us, Lyric," the man said, his voice going strangely gravelly. Far different than before. It almost sounded like a growl. "You can't stay there forever. The longer you make us wait, the worse it's going to be."

  How does he know my name? she asked, hating the edge of fear she couldn't quite hide.

  It's my fault they know who you are. I'm not sure where to begin explaining everything that's happened. There was a pause before he went on. When I couldn't find you, I went to the rulers of my world for answers. It's a long story. The short version is one of them turned on us. He's probably the one who sent beasts after you tonight. A group of us were dispatched to hunt him and his followers, but they're hunting us right back.

  What do you mean, when you couldn't find me?

  "I'm getting impatient," the man in front of her said, his voice back to mocking. "You don't want me to run out of patience."

  Enough time lapsed she didn't think the voice was going to answer. Do you remember what I told you the night we met? he asked.

  Lyric's frustration mounted. What night we met? Who are you?

  I'm Paoli, he answered, his voice now sounding as confused as she felt.

  Is it possible you have the wrong-um-number? she wanted to know. I've never met anyone named Paoli. Yet it seemed familiar when he said it. Like something in a dream that's too faded to bring into focus.

  The man in front of her growled in anger; a weird, animal sound coming from his human throat. "Stop screwing around and come here," he demanded. The werewolves around him paced at the edge of the property, watching her with their creepy eyes.

  We met after your accident, years ago, Paoli said slowly. You were bleeding. I offered to help you, but warned you there was a price.

  Lyric's blood seemed to freeze in her veins. She didn't want to think about the accident. Not with everything else going on around her. In fact, she refused to think about it. Ever. The memory was too painful. Her parents both died in that car accident; her life changed forever.

  I don't want to talk about that night, she said sharply, pushing away the haze of memory trying to creep up on her. She needed to stay focused on the monsters just feet away, not on things in the past that couldn't be changed.

  Lyric, you need to remember. Our relationship and your entire future hinges on that night, he insisted, but she forced his voice away and ignored him.

  "I'm going to kill you slowly," the man outside was saying with apparent relish. "If you don't come to us now, I'll make sure you suffer. Maybe we'll eat you while you're still alive." He bared his teeth threateningly.

  Lyric swallowed hard at the thought. Those werewolves had big enough teeth to do it, no doubt. But she wasn't going to sit quietly and listen to his threats. If knowledge was power, it was time to gain a bit. She rolled her window down just enough to comfortably speak through it.

  "Since you know my name, it's only fair I know yours. I mean, since you're going to kill me and all," she called with a passible nonchalance. She was quite proud of how unconcerned her voice sounded. Nothing like a little false bravado to straighten the spine.

  The man squinted against the headlights and smirked. "Does my name really matter?"

  "It does to me. I should at least know the name of my killer, don't you think?" she asked.

  He gave a humorless laugh. "If it makes you feel better," he shrugged. "My name is Derick. These," he waved his arm in a gesture to encompass his furred companions, "are my hunting party."

  "Delightful," she grumbled under her breath. "Why are you determined to kill me? There's a lot of other people you could," she hesitated, then plunged ahead. "I don't know, eat?" She grimaced at the sound of that.

  Did werewolves actually eat people, or was he just trying to scare her? She racked her brain trying to think of what she knew about werewolves, other than they weren't supposed to exist. Her knowledge was sadly lacking. Apart from what she saw in a couple of old horror movies with bad special effects, she knew nothing else about werewolves. According to her movies, they were supposed to be half-wolf, half-human, and only change under a full moon. Apparently, the movie director didn't have a lot of information, either.

  "We didn't come hunting for meat," Derick called in a voice that was hard and flat. "We came hunting for you."

  Goose bumps formed on her arms and she gave a slight shudder. "Then come here and get me," she dared, determined not to let him know the effect his words had on her.

  "You'll have to leave eventually," he returned angrily. "And we'll be waiting when you do."

  In response, she rolled her window up and made a show of settling back in the seat for a long night. She folded her arms stubbornly and met his eyes with an inso
lent stare. Aside from the fact her backside was going numb, she could wait forever. It might be a stalemate, but at least she was still breathing. For now.

  Chapter Four

  Hours crept by at the speed of smell and Paoli remained silent. Lyric couldn't remember ever living through a longer night. Her mind raced with scenarios of the werewolves building a ramp to reach her, or using a slingshot in a cartoonish plot to hurl themselves onto her hood. Every sound gave her another rush of fear, and the weight of too many hours awake—coupled with a glorious headache from her contact with the steering wheel—started to drag at her. Eventually, the darkness faded from black to indigo, shot with traces of lavender.

  She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the dawn. It meant one of two things. Either help would arrive and get her to a safe place where she could sleep, or the light would destroy her delusion and she'd check herself into a psych hospital.

  They've arrived, Paoli said at last, breaking into her musing. I'm sorry I can't be there myself, but sunrise has started. Trust them to keep you safe and bring you to me.

  Why does the sunrise matter? she wanted to know.

  There was a pause, and she could have sworn she got the impression of a long sigh. It matters because I'm a vampire, remember? Sunrise isn't exactly my friend.

  The words barely registered before she caught a hint of movement on the sidewalk across the street. As if melting from the depths of the shadows, three figures moved silently behind the werewolves. One was a large man with dark hair; one was a slightly shorter man with a broad build and a black-and-grey striped beanie on his head; and the one in the middle was a woman with hair so black it shone blue.

  Lyric rubbed her eyes briefly and shook her head to clear it, then looked back. Yup, they were still there and advancing on her tormentors. The werewolves didn't seem to realize they were no longer alone until the newcomers were very close.

  Derick suddenly stood stock-still, clearly on alert. He turned, and the woman met him unceremoniously with a weapon that looked like a long staff with a bladed end. A gentle swooshing sound rent the air and Derick's head was severed from his body. The force sent it bouncing forward like a grotesque ball until it rolled onto the church grounds and ignited into flame.

  Lyric was so shocked, she forgot how to breathe. A tiny squeak escaped her as she watched the head, unable to tear her eyes away from the flaming ball. Not even the sound of growling and singing metal could pull her attention from the macabre sight that came to rest mere feet away.

  By the time she finally managed to look up, she'd missed the rest of the battle. All four wolves lay dead, their heads apart from their bodies. The three mysterious figures stood in a small huddle amid the gore. They appeared to be having an entirely calm discussion, as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on. The dark-haired man said something and motioned toward the church, and the other two nodded.

  Having evidently come to an agreement, the three moved around and began hefting the bodies onto the church grounds, where, one by one, they burst into flame. A few minutes later—with their grisly task completed—the trio stilled. As one, their attention fell on Lyric.

  She had to fight the urge to grin nervously and reach out to lock the car door. Not that it would have helped much. Or at all.

  They stood side by side in almost the exact place the werewolves had been. None of them moved or spoke. They simply stood there looking at her, as if waiting for her to do something. She stared right back at them.

  "I'm Emily," the small woman announced at last. Her voice was soft and kind. "This is my mate, William," she said, indicating the dark–haired man on her right. "And this is Empusa," she pointed to the guy in the beanie, who was standing on her left. "Paoli sent us to get you."

  Lyric sat there, her mind spinning with everything that had happened since she left the restaurant. Could it really have been just a few short hours ago? Her gaze flicked briefly to the charring piles of werewolf remains that lay strewn across the ground and she had to fight back a wave of nausea.

  "What do you want from me?" she asked the woman.

  "You need to come with us. You've been marked by the werewolves and they aren't going to stop. Paoli and our flock will keep you safe," Emily said.

  Empusa looked at Emily, then at Lyric. "She means our pack will keep you safe," he said.

  "But why me?" Lyric asked.

  "You're Paoli's. That makes you one of us," Emily said.

  Lyric stared at the three of them, considering her options. If she was really being targeted by werewolves and this wasn't an isolated event, she didn't stand a chance against them. If these people were willing to help her, what choice did she have?

  But Paoli said he was a vampire. If that was true—and she didn't have any reason to doubt it, since she was surrounded by roasting werewolves—it didn't bode well for her longevity, either. She wasn't sure it was any better than taking her chances with the werewolves.

  What do you want from me? she asked Paoli.

  I want to keep you safe. Come to me now. His voice was a whisper in her mind. A caress.

  She thought long and hard. Willingly heading to a vampire didn't seem like a great decision, but waiting alone to be devoured by werewolves was worse.

  I'll come to you, she said slowly. Because I don't have a lot of options right now. But if you kill me, I'll haunt you forever, she promised darkly.

  Agreed, he said, and there was clear amusement in his voice.

  With a deep, resigned breath, she called, "All right, I'll go with you. Now what?"

  "Now bring your car onto the road and we'll go," Emily answered.

  It dawned on Lyric none of them had touched the church grounds. "You're not human, either, are you?" she asked hesitantly.

  "No," Emily answered simply.

  The single word hung heavy in the air.

  "The sun is up, so I guess you can't be-" She broke off, unable to bring herself to say 'vampires'. It just seemed too unbelievable. "Are you werewolves, then?"

  "We're," Emily hesitated and exchanged a look with William, "complicated," she finished, and there was no mistaking the silent laughter in her words, though Lyric didn't understand the humor. "It's a long story, and this isn't the place to tell it. Please come here and we can talk on the way."

  "Are you going to kill me?" Lyric asked. Not that she expected an honest answer if that was their plan. But she had to ask, anyway.

  Emily's gasp of surprise was audible, even with the entire church yard between them. "Of course not. We're trying to keep you alive," she said. "You're more important to Paoli than you know, I suspect. Especially if you think there's a chance he means you harm."

  Lyric didn't know if she liked the sound of that. She hated feeling like everyone else knew something she didn't. It put her at a serious disadvantage. After the night she just had, what she wanted was answers. Enough with the spooky cloak-and-dagger crap.

  Still not sure she was making the right decision, she pulled forward, off the safety of the church property and onto the street. No sooner had she shifted into park than her door opened. She looked up at the dark-haired man now looming over her and swallowed nervously.

  A sense of danger seemed to radiate from him. Up close, he looked even bigger. His eyes were steel gray and cold, without a trace of life in them. There was no expression at all on his face; like it was carved from solid stone. She'd never seen anyone look so intimidating, and she was seized with the certainty she'd made a deadly mistake.

  "I'll drive, since I know the way," he said brusquely.

  Lyric nodded agreement and slid out from behind the wheel without saying anything. She wasn't going to argue. Not with that man.

  Emily waited for her in the backseat. Lyric opened the door and hesitated, her eyes on the weapon she'd seen behead Derick only moments ago. It was lying across the floorboard—thankfully blood-free—but still deadly-looking.

  Emily followed her gaze and sighed a little regretfully. "Believe
me, I know what you're going through right now."

  Lyric gave a slightly disbelieving sound and made no move to get in the car.

  "Well, not exactly," Emily conceded. "But I know how overwhelming it is when your world suddenly gets a whole lot bigger. All I can say is it gets easier once you wrap your head around it all. Come on," she patted the seat beside her. "You're safe with us."

  Still full of reservations, but aware her choices were sadly limited, Lyric climbed in. She closed the door with a soft thump and watched as Empusa got into the passenger's seat. Without a word spoken, they pulled away from the curb and set off into the dawn.

  Chapter Five

  "I'm so sorry they found you before we arrived," Emily said once they'd traveled a short distance. "We headed this way as soon as Paoli could pinpoint your location. Lycaon has a longer reach than we anticipated."

  "Lycaon?" Lyric asked.

  "The original werewolf," Emily clarified. "He was the king of the immortal world until recently."

  It struck Lyric how strange it seemed for someone to offhandedly use words like 'king' and 'immortal'. But she supposed it was a normal thing for this group. "I just can't believe this is happening," she said quietly, her mind racing with the events of the night. "What does any of this have to do with me?"

  "Did Paoli explain our situation to you?" Emily asked, scooting sideways to face her.

  Everything Paoli had said ran through her head in a jumble. "He mentioned a lot of stuff but didn't go into enough detail for it to make much sense," she said.

  "Then let's start at the beginning. What do you know?" Emily asked.

  Lyric thought back, trying to figure out where to start. "I know I left work tonight and was nearly eaten alive by werewolves. The voice in my head apparently belongs to a vampire, and there's a war going on that I'm somehow involved with," Lyric said. "That's about it."