Chapter 9

Moonlight glistened on the black hood of Sebastian’s Chevelle as he unlocked the doors manually. Donnie heaved himself into the backseat. I slid into shotgun. The scent of leather and motor oil filled my nostrils.

“Plan is to check the woods closest to the university for the werewolves first, then spread out from there,” Sebastian announced, cranking the engine to life. “Listen for any howls once the moon rises high.”

“Got it,” I replied, my senses already on high alert. “If we get close or on their trail, I’ll probably be able to smell them or even hear them if they’re trying to lurk in the brush somewhere.” The thought of tracking down werewolves ignited my predatory instincts, but also a little anxiety. Vampires weren’t werewolf hunters. Humans were our prey. We couldn’t feed from werewolves while shifted and their bites were painful as hell.

“Either of you know how many we’re dealing with?” I asked, scanning the horizon ahead, just in case.

“Last I heard, it was a pack of about a dozen,” Sebastian glanced at me through narrowed eyes. “But that was before the North Carolina attacks. There’s a chance they expanded their pack then, but usually a pack doesn’t initiate more than two or three new wolves at a time.”

“A dozen?” I shook my head “That’s… that’s a lot of werewolves.”

“More fun for us!” Donnie spun a throwing knife in his hand. “I could use the workout!”

I craned my neck. “Throwing knives? You sure about using those?”

“Absolutely,” he replied with a grin that made me uneasy. “They’re silver, perfect for wolves. And if a wolf gets too close, I can still use the same knives in a close combat scenario.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I muttered, unconvinced. “In my experience, if you’re in a close-combat scenario with a werewolf, you’ve as good as lost the fight.”

“Still doesn’t hurt to have a good knife on hand,” Sebastian chimed in. “I have a small arsenal in the trunk. When we arrive, I’ll get you one.”

Sebastian pulled the Chevelle to a stop at the edge of a hiking trail that disappeared into the moonlit woods. The car’s engine went silent, replaced by crickets, hooting owls, and croaking frogs.

“Here we are,” Sebastian said as he popped open the trunk. He rummaged through an assortment of weapons before selecting a knife and handing it to me.

I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw it. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, holding up the blade. “This looks like something that might have belonged to Crocodile Dundee.”

“Who is Crocodile Dundee?” Donnie’s eyebrows furrowed.

Sebastian and I exchanged bewildered glances. “You seriously don’t know who Crocodile Dundee is?”

“Should I?”

“Here,” I said, raising my new knife with a flourish. “‘Now that’s a knife!’ Ring any bells?”

“I’ve got nothing.” Donnie shook his head.

“That’s my Subaru Outback!” Sebastian blurted out, with the worst Australian accent I’d ever heard.

Donnie’s eyes widened. “Oh! That guy! I remember those commercials.”

“Finally,” I sighed, still chuckling as I examined the silver blade. The hilt and handle were wrapped in dark leather, ensuring no contact with the silver. It was perfect.

“Let’s get moving,” Sebastian urged as he turned up the trail. Donnie and I followed suit.

The moon was rising, high enough that it should have triggered the werewolves’ shifts. Strange, though, that we hadn’t heard a single howl.

“Maybe we’re in the wrong place,” I whispered. “The wolves could be anywhere, on any side of Farmington.”

“Let’s keep going a bit further,” Sebastian suggested, his voice steady. “Some wolves don’t howl at the moon. The pack will follow the lead of the alpha. If he does it, they will too. If it’s not his style, they’ll stay silent. Still, if we don’t find anything soon, we can’t risk the wolves attacking another part of town while we’re stuck in the woods. We’ll head back and try somewhere else.”

We continued along the trail. Every scurrying animal in the woods, a flutter of a bird’s wings, or fallen branch in the distance startled my senses.

Then a gust of wind blasted through the trail—with it a familiar, distasteful scent.

“Wait,” I whispered, holding up a hand to signal for the others to stop. “They’re that way,” I said with certainty, pointing in the direction of the breeze’s origin.

Sebastian and Donnie exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. We crept through the woods, following the stench that grew stronger with each step we took.

“Stay close,” I warned Donnie, but he just rolled his eyes. “You should stay close. When’s the last time you’ve been out werewolf hunting?”

I shrugged. “It’s not exactly my favorite past time.”

“Well, this is what I do,” Donnie said. “It’s the only thing I do well that isn’t on a computer. Trust me, alright?”

I sighed. “Sure. Whatever, Donnie.”

“Why don’t both of you shut the hell up?” Sebastian snapped. “Before we become the hunted.”

We continued to move stealthily through the underbrush. The air was thick but the smell was getting stronger with every step.

Suddenly, a snarl erupted out of nowhere, and a werewolf lunged at me with terrifying speed. Instinctively, I raised my wand in one hand and my knife in the other, ready to defend myself against the vicious beast. But before I could even cast a spell or strike, one of Donnie’s throwing knives whizzed past my ear, embedding itself between the werewolf’s eyes. The creature crumpled to the ground, dead before it even hit the leaves.

“Damn,” I said, turning to Donnie with wide eyes. “That was impressive.”

A smug grin spread across his doughboy face. “Yeah. I know.”

Sebastian rushed over to the werewolf’s lifeless body, his gauntlet-covered hand hovering above its head. A green magic pulsed around his fingers, but instead of the wolf shifting back into human form, it remained motionless and very much dead.

“Damn,” Sebastian muttered. “It was worth a shot.”

“Next time,” I told him, looking down at the corpse, “I can try a healing spell. See if that’s more effective.”

“No time to talk,” Sebastian piped up. “They’re approaching, the whole pack.”

I nodded. “I can hear them. Smell then. Shit, they’re all around, coming at us from every side.” The stench of wet dog intensified, making my nose wrinkle in disgust. A half second later the first one appeared, snarling between two trees, then a third, fourth, and eventually, a dozen or more. Their eyes glowed with the moon’s reflection and saliva dripped from their fangs.

“Enerva!” I shouted, directing my wand at the nearest werewolf. The powerful spell hit its mark, dropping the creature tumbling into a motionless pile of fur.

Sebastian wasted no time, using the blade extended from his tactical gauntlet to slice through werewolf after werewolf. The sound of metal cutting through flesh filled the air as he fought with lethal precision.

Donnie, meanwhile, ran, jumped, and tossed his silver throwing knives with incredible speed and accuracy, dropping one werewolf after another. It was like the soul of Jason Bourne suddenly inhabited the body of George Costanza. Sebastian was right—you can’t judge a book by its cover, and you certainly can’t judge a hunter by his midsection. This guy was the real deal.

“Keep going!” I shouted to my companions, casting another spell as I dodged a vicious swipe from a werewolf’s claws. “We can do this!”

“Damn right, we can!” Donnie yelled back, grinning wildly as he hurled another knife into the eye of an oncoming beast.

“Stay focused!” Sebastian commanded. “Little less talk. A lot more action, please!”

I only ended up having to use my knife once. I dropped at least four of them with my spells, allowing Donnie and Sebastian to finish them off with silver.

But as we fought, another gust of wind struck my face. This time, it carried with it the aroma of blood. My head snapped toward Sebastian, who was still cutting through werewolves like a hot knife through butter. But it wasn’t his skill that drew me to him. It wasn’t his rugged physique. It was the gash on his arm, fresh and oozing crimson.

Drink, Mercy… Do not resist. You need it, you want it!

The world around me faded into a blur, tunnel vision narrowing my focus on that gash, the sweet scent of blood intoxicating my senses. Inside, I screamed back at Calivion, refusing to give in. But my body betrayed me, dazedly stalking toward Sebastian, driven by an insatiable thirst.

“Mercy, no!” Donnie shouted, but it was as if his voice came from miles away. The sounds of battle dulled, muffled like I was underwater.

Just before my fangs could pierce Sebastian’s flesh, he spun around with lightning-fast reflexes and grabbed my wrists. His intense gaze bore into mine, and he spoke firmly, “Stay focused, Mercy. Remember who you are. Don’t let the dragon control you.”

Sebastian’s words and touch grounded me, forcing back the darkness that threatened to consume my sanity. I blinked back into reality, and the world around me came sharply into focus. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, only once or twice per minute, but it was enough to startle me out of my temporary reverie. Relief, embarrassment, and gratitude washed over me as I realized how close I’d come to giving in.

“Thank you,” I whispered, throwing my arms around Sebastian in a tight embrace. He stiffened, clearly caught off guard by my sudden display of affection, but after a moment, he awkwardly patted my back.

“Hey, we still have work to do,” he reminded me, gently pushing me away. His eyes held concern, but also determination. As I looked around, I noticed one of the werewolf bodies lying lifeless in a bed of crisp autumn leaves.

“Let me try something,” I said as I aimed my wand at the wolf’s bloodied body.

“Sanare.”

The air around us shimmered with magic, and the wolf’s form began to shift, its fur receding as it transformed back into a human being.

“Sweet Jesus, you did it! You healed him!” Donnie exclaimed, checking the man’s pulse with an expression of pure amazement.

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he regarded me with newfound respect. “Remarkable, Mercy,” he praised. “Try it on the others.”

I attempted to replicate the spell on the other fallen werewolves, but my magic seemed to have no effect. Disappointment gnawed at me, but Sebastian reassured me, “It’s still good news that we managed to save one. But we can’t linger here. He might not survive for long like this, and it’s best if we drop him off at the hospital and stay out of it.”

I nodded in agreement, knowing full well that our presence would only raise more questions. As we stealthily made our way out of the woods with the unconscious man, I couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of victory and worry. I’d come so close to giving in. If Sebastian hadn’t caught me in time, maybe I would have let Calivion take hold of me again. But at the same time, the fact that I didn’t give in, I resisted, and I did something good for a change. Well, it gave me the first inkling of hope I’d had in weeks. Maybe, just maybe, if I kept this up I’d be able to get rid of the blasted dragon once and for all.

But how long could I keep it up? I’d have to feed sooner or later. And the more I exerted myself, the more magic I used, the thirstier I’d become.

Donnie sat with the recovering werewolf in the backseat of Sebastian’s Chevelle as I resumed my place in the passenger-side front.

Sebastian turned his key in the ignition and the Chevelle roared to life. I wasn’t much of a nail biter. Fangs tend to get in the way of bad habits like that. But I found myself gnawing on my thumbnail no less while my leg bounced up and down for no reason at all.

“You alright?” Sebastian glanced my way as he pulled back onto the road.

I dropped my hand from my mouth and dropped it to my nervous knee. “I’m going to have to feed soon. Doing that magic, smelling your blood. You realize, Sebastian, if I don’t feed eventually, I’ll go feral. My instincts will take over and I’ll kill anything in my path. Or, worse, losing my mind will give Calivion another foothold.”

Sebastian nodded. “You’re right. But you did something good tonight, Mercy. Real good. You saved that boy’s life.”

“Can we really be sure he’s cured?” I asked. “The silver might not have totally burned out the wolf inside of him.”

Sebastian shook his head. “The only way to know for sure will be to wait until tomorrow night. Most wolves shift two or three consecutive full-moon nights each cycle. Besides, there’s no way to know for sure if we got the entire pack.”

“Pretty sure we didn’t,” Donnie said. “Werewolves are smart like that. Too many of their number go down, they’ll regroup.”

I glanced back at Donnie. “By the way, dude. You really surprised me out there.”

Donnie smirked. “I’m like a Transformer. More than meets the eye!”

“Told you,” Sebastian interjected. “Donnie’s a lot tougher than he looks.”

“How did you learn to fight like that?” I asked.

“I started Krav Maga classes when I was five,” Donnie said. “Only thing my momma could find that got me away from the video games and television. Had my black belt by the time I was ten. When you learn how to fight at a young age like that, the skill never really goes away. Sort of like riding a bike.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Krav Maga is an Israeli martial art. A combination of aikido, judo, karate, boxing, and wrestling.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize there was a Jewish martial art.”

Donnie shook his fist over his head. “Shalom, motherfucker!”

I laughed. “Alright, so that’s how you learned to fight. How’d you get into this sentinel business?”

Donnie laughed. “You don’t have to use that s-word for me. That’s Sebastian’s thing. I prefer the term ‘slayer.’”

“Like the metal band from the eighties,” Sebastian added.

“Or Buffy,” Donnie added. “I mean, I’m hotter, of course. Way out of her league. But other than that. Buffy and me. We’re the same.”

“Except she’s fictional,” I added.

“Shhh!” Sebastian laughed. “Buffy is like Donnie’s Santa Claus. You don’t want to spoil it for him. He started hunting because of Buffy. Had a poster of her on his ceiling over his bed and everything.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You started hunting monsters because of a television show?”

Donnie shrugged. “Not exactly. I mean, Buffy inspired me. Benny Bernstein brought his family golem to Hebrew school for show-and-tell when we were twelve. Thing about Benny, he wasn’t one of the cool kids. Not like me. People picked on him. Not a smart thing to do in the presence of someone’s golem.”

I scratched my head. “Hold on, I’m a little rusty on my golem lore. They’re animated beings, made from the ground, with Kabbalah magic, right?”

“More or less,” Donnie nodded. “Not every Jewish family knows how to do it, and there can only be one in a family at a time. But this one had been with Benny’s family for decades. One of those old-school golems that only knew one way to respond to a threat.”

“So this golem went on a rampage at your Hebrew school?” I asked.

“Until I stopped it. Golems are tough bastards. Easily triggered, but also easy to control. Thing was, Benny didn’t want to stop it. He wanted the golem to teach his bullies a lesson. Thing about golems, though, they’re tough but slow. You can’t really kill them. A family’s golem once forged from clay can be reformed at any time given the right incantation. But I put it down, temporarily, anyway.” Donnie laughed recalling the incident. “Lets’ just say the golem got its ass handed to him—literally.”

“And after that?” I asked. “You just started branching out to other monsters?”

Donnie nodded. “Pretty much. I mean, despite what you probably think about me, I wasn’t very popular as a kid. I was even bullied a lot, too, just like Benny.”

“Shocker.” I did my best to suppress a grin.

“But after that, well, I was the hero of Hebrew school. Everyone wanted to be like Donnie. I’d say it went to my head, and it probably did, but then I started researching other strange shit out there. I found out vampires were real, werewolves, shifters, demons, sasquatch.”

I chuckled. “Bigfoot isn’t real.”

“Not anymore,” Donnie nodded. “Because I killed him!”

“No, you didn’t,” Sebastian corrected. “Stop making things up to impress Mercy.”

Donnie sighed. “Fine, I didn’t kill him yet. But I will someday.”

I shook my head. “Even if he is real, he’s peaceful. If he was a real threat a lot more people would believe he’s real than do.”

“That’s what I keep saying,” Sebastian said. “We shouldn’t kill things just because we can. Defending the defenseless. That’s what we do.”

“But it’s Bigfoot!” Donnie piped up. “Can you imagine what his head would look like mounted on the wall in my room?”

“You mean your mom’s basement?” I snickered.

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other! The point is, with that on my wall, it would no longer be my mom’s basement. It would be a sanctuary of seduction. A drop-your-panties pavilion. I mean, who wouldn’t want to bang the guy who killed the sasquatch?”

I raised my hand. “Hard pass for me.”

Donnie waved his hand through the air. “Ah, you’re just playing hard to get!”

“Not playing…”

Sebastian cleared his throat as he pulled into the drop-off lane at the local hospital’s emergency room and shifted the car into park. “You guys stay here. I’ll handle this. They might recognize you, Donnie, being local, and you, Mercy, from the news coming out of Providence.”

“No objections here,” I said. “Go play the Good Samaritan. We’ll be here.”