| |
Thunder rumbled like a large angry lion and a cold breeze blew through my hair as I stepped outside. The scent of rain hung so heavily in the air I was surprised a downpour hadn’t already started.
There was also something else in the air.
“Werewolves,” I said as four more stepped from the shadows.
These I could definitely smell. It’s not that they stink or anything. Werewolves have very distinct pheromones. Actually, they smell pretty damn good. It’s like the best cologne that money can’t buy. And to my heightened senses, the males were like sex on a stick.
What I couldn’t figure out was why they were after me. I’m not one of those vampires who goes around having “issues” with werewolves. That’s a bunch of speciesist crap and not at all my thing. Once upon a time, that wasn’t the case. (I admit that before I was turned I hated vampires just for being vampires. However, I never hunted anyone on that basis alone.) But a monster is a monster and I am definitely a monster. I can’t imagine hating someone else on the basis that we’re not the same type of monster. I’m more of the, “hate you for eating people,” or “hate you for killing children” type. Still, I didn’t take on jobs involving werewolves and I never had.
There were three men and one woman. The woman was tall, with long blond hair in a tight braid. She was built like the proverbial brick shithouse. She had muscles and curves like something out of a bodybuilding magazine. One look at her posture and the way she stood in front of them let me know she was the one in charge. Judging by the way they were all dressed, they’d probably been a part of the crowd inside the club.
“What do you want?” I asked, directing my question toward her.
“Fame, fortune, the usual,” she said sarcastically. “But I’ll settle for your head on a spike.”
I glanced around the alley. “Looks like we’re all out of spikes.”
Her laughter was deep and throaty. “Tris Grima,” she said, looking me up and down. “I expected a legend like you to be taller.”
“Legend? Me? I had no idea.”
All right, maybe I had some idea. But since when am I a legend to werewolves? To witches and vampires sure, but werewolves?
“Any chance you could just tell me what this is about?” I asked.
She sneered. “Where’s the fun in that?”
About that time the wolf I’d managed to escape inside the club found his way to us. With only a look shared between him and the she-wolf, he attacked. I sidestepped his flying lunge and kicked him in the ribs.
As he stumbled rain began to fall and the other werewolves charged forward.
“Great. Just fucking great.”
The largest of the men swung at me and I caught him with a forward push kick to the chest, successfully driving my silver covered boot heel into his flesh.
He howled in pain and the woman yelled, “Get her!”
I spun out of the way of another attack and as I moved I pulled my thin belt from around my waist. With a few magic words and a flick of my wrist it became a whip chain with silver on the tip.
How did I avoid the silver? Very carefully. As for my boots, I simply didn’t touch the heels without gloves, and that was only to clean off the blood. Normally that was vampire blood.
One man grabbed my arms from behind and I kicked my right leg high, hitting him in the face with my shin. There’s a reason I only wear imitation leather pants. The real thing doesn’t stretch very well. And who wants to kick ass with a rip in the crotch of their pants? I mean, I’ve done it, but it wasn’t fun. It’s also the reason I always wear underwear.
The first wolf to jump me began to transform. As I cracked my whip to keep back the others I heard his bones breaking and reforming. Rain began to fall harder suddenly, as if the violent lightning had sliced open one of the clouds. He howled as his face lengthened into that of a wolf. His legs broke below the knees with a sudden snap and his feet became enormous paws. I’d watched a werewolf turn before, but it never failed to capture my attention. It was both fascinating and terrible and while I was caught in the moment, the she-wolf caught me with a right hook.
“Bitch,” I said, staggering back. I felt the blood from my busted lip drip onto the exposed skin of my upper chest. Yes, even in the rain I was aware of how blood felt on my skin, and knew the difference between that and rain. Being a vampire has that effect.
I laughed and gave my whip a snap in her direction. “You hit like a little bitch.”
Truthfully, she hit like a pissed off mule and I’d be wise to avoid her next punch. But I hoped my taunt would catch her off guard and give me the opening I needed.
She was fast, but I caught her around the neck with my whip and snatched her toward me. She screamed as I spun her around to face the alley while I drove my fangs into her throat.
Before that moment I’d never tasted werewolf blood. Now I knew why so many preferred it. It was like a sweet, old wine. She fought me hard and I couldn’t hold on for long. I released her and kicked her forward into the charging, fully transformed wolfman. I also managed to pierce her back with my silver heel.
She yelled an unintelligible string of curse words at me that ended in, “bitch.”
“Blood for blood,” I said, smiling in a way that I knew showed my fangs.
The wolfed out one stepped forward with a roar and I widened my stance, preparing to jump. If I could get onto his back, I could choke him to death.
That was my plan, only I didn’t have a chance to carry through. Just as he made a move toward me a gargoyle swooped down out of nowhere, blocking me from the werewolf. Yes, you heard that right, a gargoyle.