by Craig Zerf
Emily and William had taken an early dinner and now, once again, Em was walking through the endless rooms of the manor house. Exploring while William made his night time calls to the various markets around the world.
This time she found herself in yet another massive reception room, the walls filled with large oil paintings of the Townsend men throughout the ages.
And every one of them looked remarkably like William. Or, she supposed, to be more accurate, he looked like them.
She was looking at one portrait in particular. Major William Townsend circa 1815. Dressed in a scarlet, long tailcoat with a gold star on each shoulder. Tight fitting white tights, long black boots, a saber, a flintlock and a bicorne hat. The resemblance was uncanny, right down to the shy smile and the muscular build.
As Emily was staring, one of the ancient retainers walked by the open door, she peered in and smiled, an almost toothless grin.
‘Good evening, young miss,’ she said. ‘I see that you are admiring the paintings of the master.’
‘Yes,’ smiled Emily. ‘I must say, the family resemblance is remarkable.’
The old lady looked puzzled. ‘I’m not sure that I understand, my lady. The master has always looked like that. As you can see in that one there,’ she pointed at the painting of the major. ‘That’s always been one of my favorites. That was done just after he returned from the war after giving that Napoleon chap a good drubbing.’
Emily raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m sorry, what are you saying?’
‘The master,’ repeated the old servant. ‘He’s looked just like that for as long as I can remember and I’ve been in his service for over seventy years now.’
Emily did a double take. ‘But that’s impossible,’ she said, her face pale with shock.
‘Oh dear,’ wailed the old lady. ‘You didn’t know. Oh dear…it’s not my fault,’ she cried. ‘The master didn’t warn us. He should have told. Oh that naughty man.’
Right then William walked in. He took a look at Emily’s face and then old lady and he sighed.
‘I’m so sorry master,’ wailed the old girl. ‘You didn’t tell us that she didn’t know.’
William smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Winifred, I’ll take care of this. You go make sure that Emily’s fire in her bedroom is lit.’
Winifred bowed, shuffled off and closed the door as she left, her face a picture of contrition.
Emily’s expression, on the other hand, was a combination of righteous anger and disappointment.
‘Right,’ she said, her voice husky with emotion. ‘You had better do some bloody quick explaining Sir William, or whatever your name is. And this had better be good.’
‘Look, Emily,’ stated William. ‘It’s not what you think.’
‘How do you know?’ Shouted Emily. ‘How could you possibly know because you don’t know what I’m thinking you… ?’ She searched for a suitable word. ‘You – bum hole.’
William stopped mid flow and raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Bum hole?’
Emily shrugged. ‘I’m not good with swear words,’ she admitted.
‘But, bum hole,’ repeated William. ‘It’s so juvenile.’
‘Oh I’m so sorry,’ quipped Emily. ‘We can’t all be twenty thousand years old,’ she pointed at the paintings as she answered. ‘We can’t all have been alive since the bloody dinosaurs. Some of us are just infantile, immature babies who’ve only been alive for eighteen years.’ She stamped her foot. ‘You shit head.’
William nodded. ‘Well, okay. As far as cussing goes, that one was a little better. Listen, my dearest,’ he continued. ‘I promise that I can explain. But first there are a few things that I need to show you.’
He held out his hand and waited for Emily to take it.
After a few seconds she shook her head. ‘No holding hands,’ she said. ‘First you explain. And then I decide if I ever want to talk to you again. Ever.’
‘Right,’ conceded William. He rolled his head on his neck, took a deep breath to prepare. And then he stopped and stood stock still, head tilted to one side, eyes squinted in concentration.
‘What?’ Asked Emily. ‘What’s wrong?’
Without answering William sniffed the air like a dog, moving his head from side to side as he did so.
‘Okay,’ stated Emily. ‘This is getting creepy. What the hell is going on?’
‘Dammit,’ growled William. ‘What the hell are they doing here?’ He turned to face Emily. ‘Look, we’re going to have to talk about this later. We have a big problem. Quickly, you need to hide.’
‘Wait,’ demanded Emily. ‘Who is here? You had better tell me what the hell is going on or I’m not going anywhere. And don’t think that you can get out of an explanation by simply coming over all weirdo on me.’
William grabbed her by the arm. ‘I’m sorry, Em,’ he said. ‘But it’s for your own safety.’ He started to walk off, pulling her by the arm. But instead, Emily pulled back, lifting him off his feet and yanking him back towards her.
He looked at her with an astonished expression on his face. ‘What the…? That’s impossible. No one that size can be that strong.’
‘Well obviously that assumption isn’t correct,’ snapped Emily. ‘So I advise you to start doing some explaining and quickly.’
William shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, my darling,’ he said sadly. ‘But it’s too late.’
As he spoke the door burst open.
Ten vampires stalked into the room, their fangs already extended, lips pulled back and claws bared.
Emily sprinted to the wall and pulled off a saber that was mounted next to one of the paintings. She ran her thumb along the blade and was pleased to see that it was still sharp.
‘Get behind me,’ she shouted at William as she moved towards the blood suckers.
The group of vamps laughed as they fanned out and advanced on her, hissing and screeching.
Then next to her she heard a tremendous roar and the vamps pulled back in surprise. Emily turned to look at the source of the savage noise to see William tearing his shirt off as he rapidly swelled in size. Hair started to sprout from his body and, as she watched, his face elongated, growing a muzzle and fangs.
He fell to all fours as the final remnants of his clothing were rent from him.
And suddenly there was no longer William. Instead, there stood a wolf the size of a horse.
He threw back his head and howled. The sound affected Emily on a visceral level. An atavistic call of the wild.
Without warning the wolf sprang forward and, moving with unbelievable grace and speed, he attacked the vampires. He landed on top of the leading vamp and, with a savage wrench, tore the creature’s head off with one blood drenching bite.
Using the vampires’ confusion, Emily leapt into the fray, brandishing the blade with all of her Shadowhunter enhanced strength. The old blade wasn’t silver coated but it could still chop heads off, if wielded with enough power. And Emily was possessed of that power.
She lopped off a blood suckers head and then spun onwards, moving all of the time.
Striking and cutting without pause or conscious thought as she moved in perfect tandem with William/Wolf. Together they danced an intricate ballet of death and dismemberment.
In the periphery of her vision, Emily noticed two elderly male servants enter the room carrying large crossbows. She heard the thump of the bows being discharged and two vampires fell screaming to the floor. Emily realized that the bolts must be silver impregnated and, taking advantage of the blood suckers’ agony; she chopped down at them, removing their heads with two mighty blows.
She spun again, searching for her next victim.
But the attack was over. Dismembered and decapitated bodies lay strewn around the room. Blood ran down the walls and dripped from the ceiling.
And standing in the middle of the room was the wolf that used to be William.
That still was William.
Emily dropped the sword and walked slowly up to the anim
al. The wolf looked back at her with William’s eyes. She went right up to him and threw her arms around his neck.
The wolf pushed back at her with his head, growling softly as he did so.
Then he pulled back and started to shift. His fur receded. He shrank down to his former size. And there he stood. In front of her.
Naked.
Emily ran her gaze over him. The broad muscles of his chest, the bulging shoulders and biceps. The chiseled abs. And lower… she blushed.
William grinned, winked and left the room.
As he walked past the two servants they dropped to one knee, their heads held downwards in respect.
Emily followed him.
Chapter 22
