“Christmas?” she guessed.
“I suppose it could be construed as
Christmas come early, but no, my girl. Tomorrow is the night of no
moon.”
Shocked to silence, she didn’t respond.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed Mark’s unease in
dwelling here this long. I am reluctant to leave when we have
accomplished so much. With the new moon so close, it will be easier
to access the product if it isn’t in transit.”
She bit her tongue at hearing her blood
being called a
product.
“You have nothing to say?” Parker asked.
“Perhaps you would like to witness my consumption of said
product?”
“You said you wanted to heal people,” she
whispered, calling him out on his lie.
“Of course I do. This way you and I can
offer healing for eternity.”
Too weak to protest or even entertain anger
for long, she shook her head and turned from him.
The next evening, Felix and Mark collected
her after sunset. They hadn’t bothered to infect her and she was
especially weak. They lead her to the highest level the elevator
would go, then up a flight of stairs. At the top, there was a
stubborn metal door. Felix pushed on it, then shoved it open,
stumbling a step when it broke off the frame with a screech. He
glanced to Mark before tossing it aside with a shrug.
“Why does he want to do this up here?” Mark
grumbled after the clanging stopped. His eyes skittered through the
shadow under the surrounding trees.
“He’s a tad dramatic, you know that,” Felix
replied. “Why else would he insist on making her watch?”
“I actually insisted upon it,” Mark
confessed and held up his phone.
“There’s nothing quite like brotherly love,”
Felix said under his breath and rolled his eyes.
The night air was chill, especially for
someone with next to no blood in their body. Clara shivered,
vaguely aware of what went on around her. A murmur floated from a
throng of men and women gathered in the middle of the rooftop.
Loose dirt and broken cement crunched underfoot as she was forced
through the crowd. They faced inward and fell silent as she passed.
Parker stood in their center, his hands clasped in front of him. A
table had been brought up and held a clear, glass pitcher of dark
liquid. Dozens of little glasses were lined behind the pitcher. An
electric lantern gave them an ethereal glow.
“We are all here now,” Parker said and
smiled. His teeth glinted in the low lighting. Felix and Mark let
go of her arms, but her legs buckled and she swayed before Mark
grasped her again. Dozens of eyes eagerly watched the little
table.
“Enough with the theatrics,” a woman said.
Clara had never seen the woman before, but she wore the blue
uniform of Parker’s hoard. “Night has fallen and you have yet to
deliver what you promised.”
“Indeed, some of us have waited many years
for this. An eternity of suffering stands before me this night.
Here is where the suffering ends. Tonight, we become as gods. My
forefathers sacrificed so the Parker name would live on into
eternity. You, my choicest friends, will also bear this honor.”
Mark sighed and could be heard muttering
something under his breath. Parker shot him an angry look.
“Some of us are impatient,” he said
pointedly. “So we will begin the process. You must partake of the
blood twice. Once as a remedy to make you mortal so you can take
the draught again and become a perfect, unblemished
immortal—stronger than even the strongest of werewolves. I am
already immortal and will take the first of the gift.”
Clara couldn’t help a snort of disbelief,
but she was ignored. All eyes were on Parker as he picked up the
pitcher and a glass. Her blood looked darker than black in the
moonless night. A thick coating covered the cup when he threw the
contents to the back of his throat. He gagged before swallowing,
then made a face. The glass clunked onto the table and the others
watched expectantly.
“Well?” Felix asked. “Did it work?”
Parker’s eyes closed tightly shut and he
took a shuddering breath. “I can feel my strength growing,” he
whispered and he did already look different. The lines on his face
smoothed away and his shoulders seemed to broaden. “Come,” he said
and his eyes shot open. “Everyone come and take the first
draught.”
Mark released Clara’s arm to join everyone
else at the table. Glass clinked and they jostled one another in
their rush to cleanse their bodies of the beast. Parker backed away
to give them room and went to lean against a wall that overlooked
the rear of the hospital. His body trembled and he clutched his
stomach. His gun stuck from the back of the holster he wore hidden
under his shirt. Clara’s heart pulsed with fresh fear when an idea
struck her. She glanced at the table where Parker’s wolves
scrambled to have their share. No one noticed when she stepped
quietly behind him. He groaned and shook. Her courage could not
fail, not when they all would be at their weakest. She snapped the
gun out.
She had never used a weapon of any kind and
was unsure of how to operate the black pistol. The one thing she
knew to do, she tried, pointing the barrel at Parker. She could
only see him in shadow and aimed for the center of it. The trigger
was harder to squeeze than she’d seen depicted on TV, but she
managed. The kickback knocked her down and she thought the
resounding blast split her eardrums. Gunpowder flooded her
nostrils. His cries of enraged pain told her she could hear and
that she’d hit her mark. Both elated and horrified, she struggled
to her feet as he writhed in agony.
His wolves were slow to drag their attention
away from their prize and it took a moment for them to grasp what
had happened. Clara sprang for the door, willing her legs to run
faster than she knew they could just then. She screamed and stopped
short when Parker appeared in front of it. He did not look or seem
himself. His eyes glimmered and a twisted smile curled on his
perfectly formed mouth. He bore a younger, stronger body.
“Going somewhere, my girl?” he asked
menacingly. She raised the gun to point at him. He laughed, but the
laugh was cut short when he doubled over in pain. The
transformation was not yet complete. Springing into action, she
tried to run by him. A yelp of alarm escaped her lips when his arms
closed around her waist and dragged her to the hard surface. She
scraped her arm as she tried to raise the gun against him again. He
grabbed and twisted it. She yanked back, unwilling to relinquish
the taste of freedom. The gun went off, once again surrounding her
with gunpowder. Her grip failed when white hot pain spread through
her torso. She clutched at the wound and gritted her teeth to bite
back a scream.
“I am not so easily killed,” Parker growled
and slapped her so hard she saw white spots. He was about to gloat
more when a crash diverted his attention and the entire building
shook with a tremendous boom. Dust flew into the night and screams
burst from his wolves. Clara could taste and smell nothing but
blood. She sat up to see what was going on, hugging her midsection
as she did. The sight that met her eyes was the most glorious she’d
ever beheld.
Wolves were running in every direction.
Bodies wearing the blue uniform lay lifeless, drenched in spilled
blood. She did not dare hope it was her pack until she saw a flash
of silver fur. Even then she was not sure until Callan jumped over
the upturned lantern and the blaze of his emerald eyes sparked.
They were in the midst of battle, but it looked as if they were
winning.
Not all of Parker’s men had a chance to
drink her blood and those that could, took their wolf forms. Those
that had consumed the cure were in the midst of the transformation
and therefore weakened and destroyed. Felix, and a few others,
appeared next to Parker in their human bodies. He and his comrades
held a strange looking device that looked like a box attached to a
gun. Felix tossed one to Parker, who caught it easily. They pointed
their weapons at her pack.
The roof groaned and shifted as wolves tore
at one another. Some of the wolves attacked her pack and obviously
worked for Parker. Others she didn’t recognize rose to their
aid.
Callan broke free of the battle and set his
sights on Parker. He rushed at him, his face drawn in a fearsome
snarl. Several pops burst from the guns in unison when the triggers
were pulled and CO
2
cartridges went off. Glistening nets
ripped open like the gaping mouth of a dragon, capturing Callan and
Jack who had joined Callan from nowhere. The weighted nets were
interlaced with silver and Callan and Jack could hardly move, let
alone break free. Felix was the first to curse and rip the
cartridge off his gun, quickly replacing it with another from his
belt. Mesha came at Felix, barking madly. Another shot fired, but
missed Mesha by a fang as she zigzagged in the darkness.
The wild wolf was never more evident than in
that moment. Mesha flashed through Parker’s wolves, ripping flesh
from limb and avoiding another net that rained down. Her eyes
ignited a deadly, unquenchable fire. She came to stand over
Callan’s silver blanket in order to rip it off him. Two of the net
guns were shot off and both nets fell over her. Mesha’s howl of
tortured pain tore at Clara’s heart. Dawn attempted to free Jack
and suffered the same fate.
“Accursed creatures,” Parker muttered and
slowly brought his own gun back out, the one loaded with silver
bullets. His eye was on Dawn.
“No!” Clara protested and grabbed his foot
as he passed, smearing his pants with blood. He fell to one knee
and turned to glare at her. “Don’t kill them! It’s my fault!”
“What do you mean?” he asked coldly.
Thunderous barking and growling interrupted
their conversation as Tyson was the only wolf of the pack left
standing. He struggled under a mountain of Parker’s wolves. Felix,
and the others of Parker’s human-form men, surrounded him on the
outskirt of the skirmish, their net guns raised. One net wrapped
around his hind end. His fall caused the entire structure to
tremble as if it would fall with him. Dust rose from the crevices
that were created as a result. He snarled and fought, his face
drawn in a fear inducing grimace. Felix raised his gun again and
another silver net shot off. Just before the net fell over his
head, his eyes locked on Clara. Of course, her attention was
riveted on him. He growled again and did his best to work his body
from beneath the net and Parker’s wolves until finally, another net
was shot. His body went stiff and he lay down.
Still more wolves were captured beneath the
awful nets, but the fight began to die down. Parker looked over the
scene and laughed deeply in his throat. Absently, Clara realized
she had yet to release her grip on the cuff on his pant leg.
“If I had known it would be this easy, I
would have killed them long ago,” he muttered, more to himself than
anyone.
“You can’t!” she gasped and tried to sit up.
He wheeled on her, grabbing her arm and yanking her to a standing
position. She doubled over in pain.
“What did you do?” he asked, taking a hold
of her chin and making her look at him.
“I shouldn’t have…”
“What did you do?” Parker asked again,
roaring in her face.
“I emailed them,” she confessed with some
difficulty as pain blinded her. “I used Mark’s laptop and sent an
email.”
“I knew he couldn’t be trusted!” Felix
shouted. He was a ways off, still standing near Tyson as if sensing
he was the most dangerous.
“Please, Parker,” Clara begged. “Let them
go! It’s my fault!”
“I am not a heartless man,” he said. “But you have forced me to do
what I would rather not. Now, because of your stupidity, they will
not live to interfere again.”
The stench of blood was thick in the air.
There must have been twenty or more nets that shone in the
starlight as the werewolves beneath thrashed in pain.
“You will watch them all die. Which shall be
first?” he asked her casually. “Your brother?”
Felix’s dark laughter drifted to them. She
could not make out his face, but saw when he cast down his net gun
and removed the automatic rifle from his back, taking aim at
Callan’s head. Clara’s wound must have been more serious than she
thought because a strange sensation crawled up her stomach and made
her vision blur.
“Stop,” she whispered. Her voice growled
slightly. Parker laughed in her ear.
“Not your brother? Perhaps someone you
haven’t known quite as long?” He nodded to Felix and pointed to
Mesha.
Rage pumped through Clara’s veins and the
strange sensation intensified when Tyson’s net thrashed then fell
still. Anger was not a new emotion to her, but the anger that
spread through her then was something she had never experienced.
Her body burned hot as if she’d just become infected for the first
time. Parker touched her arm when she moved toward Felix.
“I said to stop,” she warned, frightening
herself when she growled louder.
“You do have a point,” Parker said and
smiled. “We should save them for last.” He nodded to Felix and
pointed to a net that had scruffy fur pointing from it. “Kill the
other packs first.”
The darkness made it hard to see, but she
knew the balding fur to be that of Rodger’s. Felix was all too
willing to oblige and went to stand over the dark lump. He pointed
his rifle and dread dropped through her. “Felix, please!” she
cried. A shot thundered over the roof and the wolf uttered his
dying yelp. Several of the nets wriggled and whimpers swept eerily
over them. Felix no longer needed Parker’s permission and
immediately took aim at another. The rifle fired and another wolf
yelped.
Next to her, Parker chuckled cruelly. She
jerked her arm from him, disgusted by his touch. Somehow she knew
what she had to do before she understood it was possible. Parker’s
eyes filled with fear, but she was no longer concerned about his
puny existence. A deeper sense of black washed over her when Felix
fired again and another wolf cried out. She leaped and there was
such power behind the jump that Felix never had a chance to fight
back. The air ripped through her hair as her body changed. Thunder
erupted in her ears, but there was none. It was painful when every
bit of her muscles, sinew, and bones were ripped apart then stuck
back together in a different shape, but it was as though lightning
had struck everything happened so swiftly. She landed on him, all
fours extended and great paws sinking into his skin just before her
teeth closed around his throat.