by Morgan Hawke
Galen snorted. “He's not the only one that resembles that remark."
Sygni rolled her eyes. “Will you two give it up?"
Henri's eyes narrowed and focused on Sam. “Herr Doktor did say that he had succeeded in creating two such creatures."
Sam smiled bitterly. “Yep, I'm the other one, but he used a wolf to make me. I didn't stick around. I'm not a moron."
Sygni snorted. “Or psychotic."
Sam grinned with a mouthful of far too many jagged teeth. “Gimme five minutes with the good doctor and we'll just see about that."
Henri focused on Sygni. “And you, mademoiselle? Who are you in this game of shadow magic with your night-black sword?"
Sygni smiled and squeezed Galen's hand in warning. “Me? I'm Galen's girlfriend.” There was no way in hell she was about to let him know that she was the other person on his ‘buying’ list.
Henri raised a brow. “And a sorceress?"
Sygni nodded. “That, too."
"I see...” He nodded. “So what do you plan for Herr Doktor?"
Sygni bared her teeth in a feral grin. “Mass destruction."
Henri laughed. “A good plan!” He shook his head. “However, that may not be enough to destroy him."
Sygni frowned. “What?"
Henri shook his head regretfully. “Even the world crashing down upon his head, will not destroy Herr Doktor."
"Why the hell not?” Sam frowned ferociously. “What does it take to kill this guy?"
Henri looked over at Sam. “Then you do not know?"
Galen ground his teeth. “Just say it, Henri."
Henri sighed. “I told you that I was being blackmailed. What I did not tell you is that he knew to look for me. He knew what I was from before.” He focused on Galen. “From the war. Our war."
"What?” Sam tripped on a clump of grass. “You mean back in World War Two?"
Henri nodded. “Gruber discovered my presence early in the war.” His mouth tightened. “It was not a pleasant experience."
Galen shook his. “But he'd be so old, he'd have to be dead..."
"Correct.” Henri pursed his lips. “Doktor Gruber is a ghost."
Sam frowned. “He's awfully solid for a ghost."
Henri lifted his chin. “But of course, he has enthralled a human mage and taken his flesh."
Sygni hissed. “The kid. He's possessed the kid's body."
Henri nodded. “Exactly. Once the boy dies, Gruber will leave his flesh and may be dispelled..."
Sygni shook her head. “We can't kill the kid."
Henri frowned. “Gruber's ghost is in full possession of his body. There is no other way to separate them."
Sygni clenched her jaw. “There is always another way."
* * * *
Sygni looked up at the factory surrounded by dead trees and deep shadow. She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Okay, now all we have to do is get in without setting off his alarms and drowning in Nazi ghosts."
Galen frowned up at the building. “How the hell do you get around magic?"
"You got me.” Sam shook his head.
"That is simple.” Henri snorted. “You shall all be my prisoners."
Sam choked. “Say what?"
Sygni bit back a laugh. “You wan'na run that by me again?"
"Henri...” Galen leveled a glare at the small vampire.
"I told Herr Doktor that I would collect you.” He opened his hands and spread his arms. “And voila! Here you all are."
Sam's teeth lengthened. “You told him ... what?” A low growl erupted from his chest.
"Please, let us save the over-reactions for when we are within.” Henri rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Did you not guess? It is because of my presence that you have seen no other ghosts. He assumes that you are my prisoners."
Sygni sucked in a breath. He was right. The rest of the hike here had been unusually uneventful. Although they had heard explosions in the distance, they hadn't seen a single ghost since Henri had joined them.
"Why would the Doc believe that we were your prisoners, instead of the other way around?” Sam snorted. “There are three of us and one of you."
Henri lifted a golden brow. “Herr Doktor knows that I am stronger than all of you."
"Think so?” Sygni smiled tightly.
Henri nodded. “I am not merely a vampire, I am magus."
Sygni felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. She couldn't feel a trace of his power. Henri was very, very dangerous indeed...
Galen frowned. “A sorcerer? You?"
"Shortly after the war, I was ensorcelled as a sorcerer's familiar.” Henri smiled but his eyes chilled to chips of blue ice. “Alas, the sorcerer has been dead for quite some time."
"Then you know?” Galen set his hand possessively on Sygni's shoulder. “About us?"
"But of course.” Henri chuckled. “It is as plain as your matching eyes.” He shook his head and sighed. “And you may stop your protective glaring, Galen, I have no plans to interfere with your joining.” He smiled at Sygni. “Your sorceress does not seem to have the...” He circled his ear with a finger. “Instability ... of my former master."
Sygni set her hand over Galen's fingers. “Oh, I can be unstable if I need to be."
Galen rolled his eyes. “That's the truth."
Sam lowered his head and narrowed his eyes. “I don't like this ‘prisoner’ routine of yours Henri. It stinks of a trap."
Henri nodded. “You are right to be cautious, but fear not, I wish this Nazi revenant destroyed as much as all of you.” He focused on Galen. “You in particular, my friend should understand this better than any."
Galen nodded. “Henri has personal reasons for taking out Nazis. He won't turn us over."
Sam looked up at Galen. “Fine, whatever ... I still think we should just sneak in, grab the kid and trash the place on the way out."
Henri shook his head. “Sneaking will not be possible. The boy is stronger than you think. It was he that constructed this place from Gruber's memories."
"The kid built this by himself?” Sygni's mouth fell open. “From a ghost's memories?"
"And he is holding a door to the past open to supply the ghosts.” Henri nodded. “If he proves too strong for either of us, you and I may need to combine power to destroy this mage boy's creations."
Sygni crossed her arms and smiled coldly. Who needs you, Fang-boy?
Henri raised his brow. “So, shall we go in?” He lifted his hand toward the arching mouth of the factory's front door.
Sygni eyed the door with grave apprehension. “The front door?"
Sam glared at the door then stepped back, shaking his head. “I am not going through that door.” He turned to the golden vampire. “Forget it. I'm taking the back door."
Henri sighed. “Very well then, suit yourself."
Sam backed further away. He narrowed a glare at Henri. “I better not find out that you've been lying, or I'll be coming for you."
Henri nodded. “That is acceptable."
"I'll see you two on the inside.” Sam turned and fled with incredible speed.
Sygni turned to Galen. “I think we should go with Sam."
Henri closed in on them. “I'm afraid I must insist that the two of you accompany me through the front door."
Galen's fingers bit into Sygni's shoulder as he scowled. “Why?"
"To spring the trap, of course.” Henri smiled. “Herr Doctor will be so concerned with you two, that it may buy your companion time to actually make it into the building."
Galen lowered his brows. “All right."
Sygni glared up at Galen. “Are you out of your mind?"
Galen squeezed her shoulder. “It doesn't really matter how we get in. We are not exactly helpless."
"Fine.” Sygni sighed. “But, I still think it's a bad idea."
Henri smiled. “Excellent. I'm glad that's settled. Now then...” He turned to stare at one of the very dead trees. “Would you like to come with us?"
Coventry stepped from the shadow of the tree. “As a matter of fact, I would."
"Great, that's all I need.” Sygni groaned and rolled her eyes. “Coventry, what are you doing here?"
"Following you, of course.” Coventry wiped at his velvet sleeves. “You cannot be trusted around civilians, not with your habit of causing wanton destruction."
Sygni shook her head. “You're out of your league, Coventry."
Coventry's expression frosted. “Am I?” He folded his hands within his sleeves. “As far as I'm concerned, I have a child to protect."
Galen raised his chin. “Gruber is a ghost and in full possession of the kid's body."
Sygni lifted her brow. “Think you can get Gruber out of him?"
Coventry tilted his head toward Henri. “The way I see it, I only have a vampire's word that this is so."
Henri smiled. “Oh, it is quite true."
Coventry sniffed. “That remains to be seen.” He focused on Sygni. “In the meantime, I intend to make sure that you don't have an accident."
Sygni's hands fisted at her sides. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
Coventry scowled. “I don't want the boy to end up dead."
Galen released a boiling growl. “Sygni doesn't kill people."
Coventry speared Sygni with a look of icy loathing. “Oh, but she does."
Sygni flinched as though struck. He was right; she did kill people.
Henri raised a brow. “Is the sorceress so very bloodthirsty?"
"Ever since she was a child.” Coventry climbed the steps to the front door. “Sygni Darkheart is a menace to human society."
Henri lifted his chin and smiled at Sygni. “Well now, so you are the Sygni..."
Sygni felt her body suddenly chill. Shit ... She turned and scowled at the vampire. “Yes, I'm Sygni. So?"
"I have heard so much about you.” Henri shrugged, but his eyes narrowed. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you."
Sygni felt her cheeks heating. Terrific ... Sygni shot Coventry a glare as she joined him at the top of the stairs. As usual, Coventry had to stick his nose in something that would get it bitten off—only this time, her nose was involved.
Henri raised his hand to the door before them. “You have but to push the door open."
Sygni stared at the black door. The hair on her neck rose. Henri had offered Gruber money to raise Galen, make a werewolf and capture her. He had two of the things he'd asked for right in front of him and they were facing an obvious trap. This whole deal stank. “Forget it.” She folded her arms. “I am not touching that door."
"As far as I'm concerned, you can stay out here.” Coventry scowled and shoved at the door. The door opened onto utter darkness. Coventry strode in, and was swallowed.
"Come on.” Galen took her elbow. “Let's get this over with."
Sygni looked into the black hole revealed by the open door. She grabbed Galen's arm. “No, it's a trap,"
"Of course it is.” Henri whispered from right behind them. “I told you it was."
Sygni was shoved hard from behind. She stumbled forward—into nothingness...
* * * *
Sam ran around the edge of the factory with a speed and ease he'd never had when he was just some guy that emptied trash. He'd never been fully comfortable in his body; too short, too fat, and too clumsy. But now ... Now, thanks to his furry side, his body was trim and muscular. He moved smoothly, comfortably and somehow more in tune with the world under his feet.
And then there was Morwyn. She was so beautiful. Her rich scent, her velvet skin and her inner calm. God help him, she was an honest to God faery! And she loved him—him! Fur, fangs and all ... The wolf had liked her the moment her hand had stroked his furry brow. But then the wolf's view was simpler and more pure, more accepting, and more wild.
He wondered if the wolf had fallen in love with her first.
He lifted his nose. The wind carried the scent of dust, dead wood, dry brick—and dog. Tyrone had made it back to the factory. Sam slowed to a careful trot, barely making a sound through the dead grass. The were-dog's scent drifted from the ground and the brush.
Tyrone ... They had been friends for years. Maybe not best friends, but they were working partners. They had shared beers and ball games; they were buds.
And then the Doc came along and Tyrone just wasn't the same guy anymore. His first clue that something wasn't right was when Tyrone had shot Sygni, cold as ice. He hadn't even blinked.
When Tyrone had showed up at the castle howling for him to come down, and of all stupid things, to come back here with him, he knew something was definitely not right in Tyrone's head. He still hadn't thought Tyrone would attack him. It had actually taken Tyrone's massive clawed hand coming for his face before he would believe that Tyrone really meant to hurt him. Luckily the wolf had more sense. The wolf had spotted Tyrone's coming attack and pushed for the change. As it was, he had barely changed in time to save himself.
Whatever was going on in Tyrone's head wasn't pretty. Sure, being furry took getting used to, but Tyrone was acting completely unhinged. The two souls in his body were fighting for dominance in a body that needed one mind, one direction and one purpose to survive. It was as obvious as they way he fought, first biting and tearing like a dog and then swinging like a man—back and forth, dog and man, each confusing the other.
Sam shook his head. It had to be Tyrone's fear of big dogs. It was keeping him from fully accepting the dog that shared his soul.
He had been joking around when he said the dog would be more likely to surface under Morwyn's magic. When Tyrone had faded back and the dog had emerged, taking complete control of the body, he had been horrified. The wolf had kept him from dropping down on his knees and screaming for Tyrone to come back. The wolf had known that Tyrone didn't want to be there.
And there was no breaking the spell. Only death would separate the two souls. Tyrone had to come to terms with his new situation if he was going have any kind of life.
"There you are ... Sam.” The voice came from a throat too large and deep to belong to a man.
Sam stilled utterly and watched a deep shadow slide from a clump of dead trees. The shadow was tall, heavily muscular and massive. The scent of dog carried on the slight breeze. Sam's hands tightened on the crossbow he carried. “Tyrone?"
The shadow moved into the gray light, becoming the massive and distorted form of a fanged and clawed Rottweiler walking on two legs. “Why did you let him do this to me, Sam?"
"Me? Look, I didn't tell you to stick around.” Sam wanted to step back from the nightmare that was Tyrone, but the wolf insisted that to move backwards would encourage an immediate attack. “Tyrone, you can still leave. Nobody's going to know diddily-squat unless you walk around like this."
"And do what?” Tyrone stopped and hunched down on all fours. “And be what?” He stared down his short muzzle at the far smaller man. “How do you live with it? The thing attached to your soul?"
Sam shrugged carefully. “It's kinda neat, not being alone in your own body, and I feel good, really good. I'm all muscular and shit, now. Of course I chase the occasional rabbit, but that's okay.” He lifted his chin. “Have you gone back to your human shape yet?"
Tyrone released a growl that raised the hair on Sam's neck. “No."
Sam rolled his eyes. “Why the hell not? You can't buy groceries looking like that!"
Tyrone's head dropped low. “I can feel it in me. A thing moving around and eating me from the inside out."
Sam felt his patience thinning fast. “Tyrone, it's not eating you. Grow some sense, will you? It's just a dog! It's not a monster..."
"It is a monster!” Tyrone bellowed and rose to his hind legs with incredible speed. “Look at me damn you! I'm a monster!” The voice thundering from the massive throat held the unmistakable tension of despair. He stalked closer to Sam.
Sam raised the crossbow and pointed a silver-bladed bolt at Tyrone's heart. “Hold it right there, Ty
rone.” His pulse pounded in his throat. He couldn't believe he was even thinking about shooting Tyrone, but his wolf knew death when it smelled it.
Tyrone stopped. He exhaled a deep sigh. “You can't hurt me with something that small."
"These arrow-heads are silver. They're designed to kill us."
"Would you really shoot me, Sam?"
"If I have to.” Sam sighted down the crossbow, but there was absolutely no way he could miss hitting Tyrone's heart at this range. The wolf would not allow him to miss.
Tyrone's head dropped and his small ears flattened to his canine skull. “Then shoot me, Sam, because the Doc told me to bring you in.” He stepped closer. “Alive, or dead."
"Tyrone, don't!” Sam desperately did not want to pull the trigger under his finger, but the wolf held no such qualms. If Tyrone pushed him, friend or not, he would shoot. “Tyrone, we're supposed to be friends, damn you! I don't want to kill you!"
Tyrone rose to his full height. “Sam, if you are my friend, you won't miss."
"What?” Sam gasped, barely able to breath past the fist of pain around his heart. “Why, Tyrone? Do you want to die?"
"Sam, I can't...” Tyrone bared jagged teeth and growled. “I can't live like this!” The were-dog lifted his razor-clawed paw well over his head. “Shoot me, because I will kill you if you don't!” The paw dropped.
Sam squeezed the trigger.
The bolt leapt spinning from the crossbow and burrowed deep in Tyrone's massive chest. Tyrone yelped and jerked back, then dropped to his knees.
Sam gasped, shocked and appalled. He hadn't even hesitated. “No, God, no..."
Tyrone groaned and fell backwards to the tarmac. The fallen were-dog faded to become a man with a heavy bolt buried deep in his chest. He choked. “Sam?"
Sam dropped the crossbow and ran to his friend's side. “Damn you, you stupid sack of shit...” He dropped to his knees by Tyrone. Blood was everywhere. Brilliant scarlet spilled from the wound in his chest. “God, Tyrone, why did you make me shoot you?"
"Sam?” Tyrone lifted his hand.
Sam caught it. “I'm here, right here.” He could barely see through the tears in his eyes. His heart slammed in his chest, a fist of solid pain. Tyrone's fingers were ice cold. “Tyrone, I'm sorry."
