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I drifted halfway between consciousness and what I considered touching Death’s door. My body ached, especially along my ribs and the back of my head. I couldn’t feel anything below my waist. Try as I might, I couldn’t even wiggle a toe.
“He’s coming around, Ian. I told you he wouldn’t die easily. He’s a big strong man, full of muscle.”
“Brother, he is busted up pretty badly. He has severe bruising all down his spine. Doubtful he can ever walk again. And as bad as he is, he probably won’t last a week.”
“Ah, but you’re wrong. I know it.” He cackled with bizarre laughter. “Look. Look. Here. Look here.”
“What is it, Gunner?” Ian asked with a tone of disgust.
“These marks. They be made by a bear!”
I attempted to open my eyes but only got that in-between blurred phase like looking through the murky water of a stream. These two men ... I could barely see the outlines of their faces. I must have hit my head harder than the pain registered. These two men were hideously disfigured, mainly their teeth. Their teeth were long and twisted, yellowed. Surely I was still trapped inside a nightmare, and if I were, I didn’t see any way of climbing out.
“A bear? We have very few bears near us,” Ian said firmly. “The waterfall is too harsh.”
Gunner laughed in what sounded like chattering. “That’s what’s so unique. You know—you know what it means?”
“What? You bumbling fool?”
“He’s ... he’s going to become one of them.”
“One of who?”
“Like us. He’s going to change.”
“The scars are most likely from something else, like a jagged tree branch where the river current dragged him over the falls.”
“No, it’s a bear,” Gunner said undeterred.
Ian sighed. He leaned closer to my chest where Gunner had pointed and started sniffing what I assumed must be claw marks because I wasn’t capable of rising up and looking. His clammy hands touched my chest muscles. I tensed. He sniffed.
“You’re right, Gunner. A bear.”
Gunner giggled and clapped his hands. “He’s going to change then.”
“We can’t be certain, but we can be hopeful. If he does, at least his body should heal of these injuries.”
“And if he don’t?”
“He’ll probably die.”
Gunner made a sad groan. “Mustn’t give up hope. Say, where’d you put that box we found?”
“Near the door,” Ian replied.
Gunner rushed away. A few moments later he dragged the box across the floor. “Hefty damn thing to tote. Wonder what be inside?”
“Might as well look.”
The latches unsnapped and the hinges creaked. “My, my, Ian.”
“What is it?”
“Ah, he be a Vampire Hunter!” His voice rose to a near squeal. He came to my side and placed his cold hands on my shoulder and looked down at my face. Still a blurred image. “Keep fighting to live, mate.”
My lips moved, but only slight scratchy sounds came out.
“All his vials are intact,” Gunner said. “Nothing wet inside. Ooh, look.”
“What?” Ian said.
“He has a sack of coins.”
“So?”
“No reason. Just ... he must kill a lot of vampires to get money like this. I’ve always wanted to hunt vampires.”
“Look at him, Gunner! Look at the shape he’s in. Is this how you’d like to end up?”
Gunner huffed. “Well, no. Not particularly, no.”
“Vampire hunting isn’t a profession you pick. It picks you.”
Gunner came back to my side and patted my shoulder.
“Rest easy, friend,” Gunner said. “It’s two weeks until the next full moon. We’ll keep you safe while you recover. Took a nasty fall off the cliffside, you did. That rocky waterfall didn’t do ya any favors, either. But when the full moon rises, new blessings befall ya, they will.”
I moaned and tried to raise my head. Couldn’t.
“Let him be, Gunner. Let him rest. Pawing at him won’t help the situation none.”
“But ... a Were-bear. Doesn’t that excite you?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“Why not?”
“Because he could eat us.”
“Always thinking the downside, aren’t you? Never look at the good.”
Ian growled. “What’s good about it? Poor chap nearly falls to his death, you jump into the frigid water and pull him out, but the only real mercy might have been if you’d have left ‘em to die.”
“Ian? Surely, you don’t mean that?”
“Gunner, what if he wasn’t scratched by a shifter bear? Hmm? He’s never going to go anywhere. For him to survive, requires our waiting on him hand and foot, day after day, and if that happens—”
“I’ll tend to him. Me.”
“Every detail?” Ian asked.
“Every one.”
“Then for your sake and his, I pray the bear was a shifter. It’s all the hope you both have.”
Gunner clapped his hands softly. “He’ll turn, Ian. He’ll turn. You’ll see. The great Vampire Hunter will transform into a bear.”
“Come on, Gunner. Let him be. We need to catch fish for the day and find some dry firewood. Since the cave gets cold at night, we need to make it warmer for him. He’s injured so he’ll need food. Soup. Fish soup. Find some healing roots if you can.”
“On it, brother!” Gunner hurried away.
Had I heard him correctly? I had been attacked by a bear-shifter? I never encountered a bear ... Wait. Something huge had struck me not too far outside the cave. That much I did remember, but I never saw what it had been.
I wanted to snap fully awake to get a grip on reality, to discover the truth. I healed quickly or at least I always had in the past. But I’d never lost the feeling in my legs before. That concerned me.
After I no longer heard the brothers talking, I tried to rise up again, but to no avail. I sobbed. Tears crested in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop their flow. Everything I held dear in my life was gone. First Momma, now Father, and Penelope ... she was sailing across the world to face a possible horde of demons alone. I feared I’d never see her again.
I lay here, helpless and unable to move. I couldn’t even talk. Had those who had chosen me to be a Hunter turned their backs on me? Was I cursed because I had kept Varak alive? Every step of our journey from London to Freiburg had been filled with misfortune, and as I had feared, a heavy price would be demanded for keeping the hybrid child alive. I couldn’t image a heftier cost because my life was all I had left. Death would have been a blessing instead of suffering this anguish inside.
Lorcan had betrayed us. He was the reason Father was dead. The whole slay-his-enemy had been a scheme geared—I reasoned—to kill me because I was a Hunter. Perhaps Flora wasn’t the only one who enjoyed torture games. I had been used as a gift offering to Ambrose from Lorcan. I doubted it was for peace, but Lorcan wanted to keep his children safe. For a vampire, there was no greater energy surge than for one to drink a Hunter’s blood. But Ambrose had mentioned that he planned to turn me. Either way, had Ambrose succeeded, Lorcan had never intended for me to stake Ambrose. He knew the odds were too high for me and my father to be victorious. It was a suicide mission on our part.
Albert had offered to turn me into a were-rat on several occasions, insisting that I’d gain incredible strength and foresight by doing so. I had denied his offer each time. Now that I understood a bear were-creature might have attacked me, I hoped it was true. If there was one thing an angry bear possessed, it was rage. After all the sorrowful ordeals I had survived, my rage was building and longed to be released. Combining my rage with the rage of a massive bear, it would be far more magnified than I could ever hope to contain.
The events since we had left London flashed through my mind. My hot tears ceased, and for years to come, I didn’t expect to experience the comfort of tears to soothe any of my inner emotional pains or loss. Coldness had suddenly frozen my tear well and slowly gripped my heart.
Yes, I hoped what Ian had predicted about the claw marks coming from a shifter was true. And if it were, I was about to evolve into something ruthless and unforgiving. I was going after Lorcan, his children, Ambrose and even Albert. There would be nothing to stop me. Each would suffer my rage. I’d pursue them to the ends of the earth if necessary, but I would find and slay each one.
My first transformation was two weeks away, if a bear shifter had actually infected me, and for some unexplained reason, I believed this to be true. Two weeks was a long time to fume over the atrocities others had committed against me and my family. When my rage eventually released, it would explode like a volcano. Ultimate destruction followed. A lot of undead and paranormal creatures were going to die at my hands. I’d never stop until I found each one of them and held them accountable for their transgressions.
I had nothing else of value in this life except my soul. With the raging anger festering inside, I even dared Death to attempt his claim before I had satisfied my vengeance. For a while, his role would become my occupation. I’d bury those he had failed to remove from the earth and turn them to ash.
In the territories where the undead reigned, they’d fear my coming. Some vampires might stake themselves rather than face my wrath. As Jacques had mentioned almost a year earlier, my reputation eventually preceded me. While that might ultimately prove to be true, I hoped it occurred after my rage began to settle. The last thing I wanted was for Ambrose, Lorcan, or Albert to know I was coming for them. If Death could creep into homes unseen and unheard in the dead of night, perhaps I could do the same. The undead were about to witness their greatest unexpected nightmare. Me. But unlike Death, I’d show my enemies no mercy. They had taken from me, and now they’d know the ultimate price they’d pay.
THE END
[Author’s Note: The hardest part in writing this book was the death of Forrest’s father after the two of them had finally gotten closer. However, in Succubus: Shadows of the Beast, where Forrest first appears (almost 120 years later), this is how he mentioned his father’s passing. I knew John’s fate when I started this book and dreaded when the scene took place. I shed tears, but Forrest’s losses are what changes him and hardens his view against the undead even more. Due to all his losses, he undergoes a transformation that coincides with his character, not just physically, but mentally and spiritually as well. Internal hardships and struggles are what change all of us. Life isn’t necessarily fair, or how we often wish it were. But whenever we come to a crossroads, we have a choice to make: Which path should I take? In this book, Forrest encountered a lot of crossroads. His decisions for each are what he must reflect for the rest of his life. While he cannot change them, he will learn from them.]
Forthcoming:
Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter [Blood Pact] Book 4
Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter [2016]
Forrest Wollinsky: Blood Mists of London [2016}
Forrest Wollinsky: Predestined Crossroads [2016]
Forrest Wollinsky: Blood Pact [Forthcoming]
Succubus: Shadows of the Beast
Raven
Other works by Leonard D. Hilley II:
The Predator of Darkness Series (Sci-fi suspense thrillers):
Predators of Darkness: Aftermath
Beyond the Darkness
The Game of Pawns
Death’s Valley
The Deimos Virus: Target Earth
The Chronicles of Aetheaon Series (Epic Fantasy):
Shawndirea [Book One]
Lady Squire: Dawn’s Ascension [Book Two]
Devils Den