Van Helsing fired his crossbow relentlessly from his perch in a tall birch tree, but most of the bolts dealt only glancing blows to the charging pair or were dodged outright. Majaris threw a homemade tin can grenade filled with gunpowder and nails into their midst. The explosion sent the metal spikes into Luna’s open mouth and she turned away choking. Lucious had recovered and now took only minor damage as he vaulted into the air. His claws struck home in the bark, propelling him directly towards Van Helsing. The hunter smashed a vial of Demon Fire and dropped a torch down the base of the tree. Lucious saw it coming and crawled around the backside of the tree away from the fire. The thing was as agile as a red squirrel.
Abandoning his firing position, Van Helsing fell upon the creature. He drove Lucious down to the ground with his long-sword, pinning him long enough to throw a knife into his neck. The werewolf clawed it out with a large loss of blood. Luna had finally recovered and collided with them both, blindsiding them as they hit the ground. Majaris couldn’t risk dropping another grenade for fear of hurting Van Helsing, so she took up his Prussian breech-loading rifle and began firing at any exposed parts of Luna’s body. Whimpering as several rounds struck home, Luna faltered as she lost the use of her back leg.
The wound in his throat now healed, Lucious pulled Van Helsing’s sword from his shoulder and threw it end-over-end at Sage, who had just emerged from the fountain. The blade spun through the air, heading straight at her face—until Dorian stepped in front of the saber, taking it directly in the center of his chest. He collapsed to the ground, blood pouring out of the wound as he struggled to draw breath.
“Dorian, no!” Sage ran to his side, assessing the extent of the wound with her gift. The sword had nicked the side of his heart and was wedged between two ribs. She tried to slide the blade to the side, but it was firmly stuck. The tip protruded savagely from his back. Healing power or no, if she didn’t remove it, he would die.
“Dorian, lay still!” She concentrated on the edges of the sword.
Prin sânge și fier și voință,
Dezactivați acest formular,
Scoateți-l din lumină și umbre,
Niciodată să nu mai fi văzut.
By blood and iron and will,
Unmake this form,
Remove it from light and shadow,
Never to be seen again.
She disintegrated the blade, with the last of her power before falling to her knees in exhaustion. For several seconds, Dorian’s heart refused to beat. Then at last, his heart slowly healed the damage it had been dealt and resumed pumping blood to his brain.
Dorian felt his strength return and he limped to Sage’s side. “I’m sooorrry.” He switched to mental communication. “I never mean’t to hurt you.”
“I’m sorry too. Now go help Van Helsing.”
Van Helsing had removed his eye patch. The power of the demon eye made the attacks from Luna and Lucious clumsy, but he was surrounded and wouldn’t survive much longer.
“He won’t stop until he kills me,” Dorian sent the thought silently to her.
“Not tonight.” Sage wobbled on her feet. “I have seen it.”
Dorian snarled and bounded towards the other two werewolves. He hamstrung Lucious and grabbed him from behind in a headlock. The two fell to the ground thrashing.
“Luna, help me!” pleaded Lucious.
But Luna was honing in on the kill. She would have her revenge against Van Helsing no matter what. She swept his legs out from under him and opened her jaws wide. Van Helsing grabbed her jaws, barely holding them away from his face.
With a powerful crack, Dorian snapped Lucious’ neck and tore his head from his shoulders. Luna cried out in anguish, releasing Van Helsing. Majaris seized the opening and threw another grenade behind the she-wolf. The explosion severed her tail and sent Luna running across the square.
Van Helsing struggled to rise on mutilated hands. Majaris dropped down from the trees and helped him to his feet.
The exhausted hunter looked first after Luna’s retreating figure, then towards Dorian. He tried to pull a knife from his vest, but the blade slipped from his mangled fingers and fell to the ground.
Dorian sat on his haunches. “Peaccce hunterrr. We need nooot fiiight.”
Van Helsing spat blood in his direction, but Majaris held him back. “You are in no condition to fight. Besides, he just saved your life.”
The hunter frowned at his hands. “Very well, Vârcolac. We will fight another night. But you cannot deceive me. I know what you truly are.”
CHAPTER 23.
A
CIRCLE OF IRON & BLOOD
Luna ran through the night, following wherever her nose led her. She was desperate to escape, forging across streams to hide her tracks before reaching the safety of the forest. She had lost everything to Dorian: the contentment of her new mate, the members of her freshly created pack, her wealth and the business empire forged over long years. Even her very freedom to move about unmolested in her human form had been taken from her.
How long had it been since she had attended the theatre? Her world had been reduced to the drudgery of running, seeking refuge where she could to evade brutal capture or death. The Inspector’s constables hunted her relentlessly during the day and Dorian sought her remorselessly in the night. She didn’t know how long it had been since she had slept. Every moment had been spent masking her passage from her enemies.
Luna kept moving, hiding in storm drains and alleys, lying fearfully awake on a pile of rags when there was no bed to be had. She stole what she needed to live, but in comparison to the fresh blood of a kill, all food now tasted like ash in her mouth. Nothing could compare to the steaming delight of freshly taken prey. Not that she dared to hunt. The thrill pulsed within her chest, but she dared not indulge that demon—not yet.
Cold and wet more nights than not, she lived the life of a vagabond. She couldn’t even get drunk anymore. With no money to afford the stronger liquors, she was forced to resort to the thin stupor brought on by cheap wines. Her body healed the sensation from her blood in less than a few heartbeats. How had she been reduced to this pitiful state?
On a dreary night spent with only the fleas as company, she finally grew tired of running. She heard a set of footsteps coming down the alleyway where she had spent most of the day. She knew she should get up and run, but she simply didn’t care anymore. Let Dorian finish her. This wasn’t really life. It was an empty shell of existence. Better to die in a whirling mass of blood than to continue running like a coward.
But it wasn’t Dorian who came for her; it was her old friend Sage.
The witch practically floated down the back street. “Helena, don’t run.”
Luna didn’t even bother to rise to her feet. “What’s the point? Just kill me and be done with it. ”
“I’m not here to kill you.” Sage looked down at her, her brown doe eyes filled with pity. “I’m here to help you.”
She glared up at her. “Isn’t it a little late for that?”
Sage opened her hand to reveal an iron nail. “Let me try.”
Luna stared at the simple piece of metal. She had seen this ritual before. She knew how wrong it could go. She stared into Sage’s eyes for several long moments. “What makes you think I want to go back to the way I was?”
“I remember a woman who defied the world through her success; a woman who saw beauty in art and life and lived every moment to the fullest. Is that woman gone forever?”
She looked up at the moonless sky, her cold eyes traveling off to a faraway place where her dreams still lived. “Alright, you can try your spell.”
Sage used the tip of the nail to cut a line across her thumb. She squeezed out the blood and drew a small circle on her forehead. Then she leaned forward and drew one on Luna’s.
Luna extended her hand, drawing a sharp breath as Sage drove the nail through the center of her palm. “Was that really necessary?”
“Just because I’m helping you
,” Sage said as she sat on the ground and folded her legs, “doesn’t mean I have forgiven you for what you have done.”
Luna de recoltare a sosit,
Prin fier, sânge și voință
Îți spun ‘Vârcolac’.
Te rog să te întorci.
The Harvest Moon has arrived,
By iron and blood and will
I name thee ‘Vârcolac’.
I bid thee come forth.
Her friend transformed before her eyes into a bloody mess of disfigurement. The werewolf version of Luna eyed her hungrily. She moved to dislodge the iron nail from her paw and Sage swatted her on the nose.
“Leave it!” she said as though the deadly creature was only a puppy prone to naughty behavior.
Luna thought about ripping out Sage’s throat, but settled for a low growl instead.
Sage ignored her and continued to chant.
Prin Luna de recoltare,
Am aruncat Vârcolacul.
Prin sânge și fier
Vă propun să vă despărțiți
Din sufletul acestei femei.
By the Harvest Moon,
I cast out the Vârcolac.
By blood and iron
I bid you to separate
From the soul of this woman.
Luna began to shake and pitched forward onto all fours. The werewolf’s muzzle contracted then spilled forward in a waterfall of loose skin. The outline of a woman’s face pressed against the membrane of it, before being swallowed back down. The creature threw back its head and howled.
“Helena, don’t fight it. Let go of the monster inside you!”
The imprint of a sunken mask appeared once more, the mouth wide in terror. Sage repeated the words of the spell again. Luna fell to the ground convulsing, blood seeping from her pointed ears. Sage threw the rest of her power into the spell. She could sense the soul of her friend, trapped somewhere in the monster she had become. Sage beckoned it, seeking to draw Helena out—only to be repulsed by a wall of unquenchable bloodlust and rage. Sage tried to free Helena from the dark prison of rage she had built for herself, but Helena refused to go back to being powerless against her foes. Helena and Luna had become one. Their destinies were forever intertwined.
Sage pulled back, defeated. The fur on the creature in front of her fell off, its body returning to the slim feminine form. Sage stood up and walked away from the unconscious woman, mourning the death of the friend she had once known. She knew she should stamp out her life. But part of Sage still hoped Luna would awaken with a new perspective. If she didn’t, Sage knew that when next they met, she would be forced to kill her.
Luna awoke sometime later with a sore throat and a slow-burning resentment in her heart. How dare Sage try to “cure” her. There was nothing wrong with her. Why had she stopped fighting them? That was what had brought the malaise upon her. She would have her revenge; if not by killing Dorian, then by taking from him something else that he loved.
She smiled with a wolfish grin then jumped up, eager to set the cogs of her plan into motion. No sooner had she broken into a small bank clerk’s office, than she penned a quick letter with stolen ink and paper. Storing it safely in a tube wrapped in waterproofed lambskin, she visited the home of Lord Captain Elgin. Even if Dorian hadn’t mentioned his fondness for the man, she had been the one to place him on the Captain’s ship. Surely, he would know the truth of what she sought.
She broke into his study as the Captain was reading. He came at her with a small blade used for opening letters. After breaking his hand, Luna began to question the man about his campaigns in China: How well did he know Dorian? Had Lord Crawley known where Dorian had gone during his absence without leave?
The Captain proved more resilient than Luna would have thought. Despite a ruthless beating, he still refused to divulge anything about his former Midshipman. She had to break his wife’s neck in front of him to extract all of the information she desired. He seemed like a good man, weeping over his spouse before she choked the life out of him with her bare hands. She almost regretted killing him. She enjoyed the fire by herself, two corpses strewn about the floor. After drinking her fill of their wine, Luna addressed her letter and dropped it in the post that very evening.
CHAPTER 24.
T
HE DOCKS
Dorian was enjoying a black coffee at the Borough Market in a small shop along the South Eastern Railway line. He smashed his cup to pieces across the table as he read the news in The Telegraph.
Lord Captain Elgin and his wife, Lady Alyssa Elgin were found murdered in their country estate near Essex on Wednesday evening after midnight. A friend of the family who had come for a visit discovered the bodies at the remote home. They were believed to have been killed over a week ago and the bodies left to decompose.
The decorated Lord Captain was a beloved son of England, having won many prestigious awards over his illustrious military career. These included the Medal of Valor, awarded by Her Majesty for his role in the Second Opium War.
Detective Inspector Gerald Clarke has taken up the case personally and vows to see justice meted out over this brutal and cowardly act.
Sending word to the Inspector took a day, as did the wait for his response. The evidence did indicate that Luna was the killer. She had gone too far. The Captain had been a friend of his and the man’s wife was completely innocent. Luna had eluded him for long enough. He sent a mental plea to Sage for help.
Her response echoed in his mind. “Please forgive me, Dorian. I should have killed her when I had the chance.”
“I made the same mistake,” he replied.
“A vision has revealed where she will be,” thought Sage. “Meet me at dusk at the Portsmouth docks in two days.”
Dorian counted out the days on his hand. “That is the night of the full moon.”
“It must be then,” she sent back “or something terrible will happen.”
Dorian and Sage met at the docks before sunset on the prescribed day. He could see the H.M.S. Victory anchored in the middle of the bay, kept out of service for thirty days in respect to her fallen captain.
“Where is she?” Dorian asked.
“Close by,” Sage replied.
The change would begin soon. “How close?” The moon had not yet risen, but he could already feel his blood running hotter.
Sage sighed. “It’s not an exact science, you know.”
“Maybe you should leave her to me.” He paced the wooden pier like a caged predator. “I can handle her alone and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You saved my life.” She grabbed his hand in hers. “I know you would never hurt me.”
Her touch soothed the crawling feeling spreading across his skin. He allowed her to pull him into an embrace. Soon he would turn, but maybe one day they would be able to find a cure.
“Dorian?” said a timid voice. “What the gàn are you doing with this jiàn nǚ rén?” Maybe not so timid after all.
Dorian was shocked to hear the familiar voice. “Shen? What are you doing here?” He quickly stepped back from Sage.
The delicate Chinese woman was just as beautiful as when he had left her on that fine spring day at her father’s farm in Canton. Her fine, chiseled features seemed sharper; her thin-boned arms more muscular since he had last seen her. Shen’s quick, darting eyes took in the scene; her coquettish smile replaced with a frown and a look that cast daggers.
“I received your letter.” With tears in her eyes, she held up a piece of paper. “After so much time waiting, I thought we could finally be together. You sent for me and I boarded the first boat to London.” She tore the letter in half and scowled at Sage. “I see now that I was wrong.”
“Shen, please—” With a glance, he looked at the handwriting on the torn paper. He knew that flowing script! “—I do want to be with you. This is my old friend Sage. We are friends and nothing more.”
Shen saw the hurt in the woman’s eyes as Dorian spoke those words and move
d in to slap her. He caught her wrist easily and held firm as she smacked him instead.
“Let go of me!”
“You have to believe me, Shen. She was helping me to make it safe for you so we could be together. But I did not send that letter.”
She stopped fighting him. He could tell Shen wanted to believe him. He pulled her in close and kissed her passionately. “I love you.”
Those words made her forget everything. She returned his kisses fervently, causing Sage’s face to redden as she turned away.
She pulled away. “Have you kept your promise to me?” she asked, her eyes begging for the right answer.
“I swear it. But you must go with Sage. It isn’t safe to be around me right now.”
“I’ll never leave your side again,” she cried. Her head rested lightly on his shoulder. “Whatever it is, we will face it together.”
Box Set: The Wolf of Dorian Gray Series: Books 1-3 Page 43
