From his perch high within the shadows of the church steeple, he waited, listened and observed. Moonbeams illuminated the land and intensified the silhouettes. Fallen leaves swirled and danced amidst the shadows. Playful wind tiptoed across the water and skated through the darkness. Darkness. It was what the humans called it when night fell, when their sight was inhibited, when they huddled in fear. Darkness was what his kind called peace, a moment of silence, a chance to breathe undisturbed. For those who breathed anyway. A smile tugged at his lips then faded. Something slinked closer.
Ignoring that something, he raised his head and slowly drew in a deep breath. Her. Forged in his mind like an unspeakable act, her scent lingered, caressed, devoured. The past gnawed, the present teased and the future toyed. A shift in his black duster whispered against his powerful thigh as the leather slid down and lightly flapped in the soft breeze that announced its occasional presence. Strands of unbound silver hair played with the wind then tickled his cheek. It reminded him of her silken caresses. Every move slow and deliberate, he tucked the wayward wisps behind his slightly pointed ears. Longing for her touch stirred.
Black leather boots murmured as he stood and faced the night. Yes, face the night. It was what he was bred to do, loved to do, needed to do. Predator and prey. Hunter and target. His target was out there somewhere in the night. In the darkness. Alone. Unprotected.
“She curses you to ends of the earth, sire.”
He refused to answer.
“She thinks your kind is the scum of the earth, my lord.”
“Hush.”
“I knew you’d respond.”
“Be silent or I’ll silence you, wretch.” He turned his head and leveled an icy steel grey gaze on the something that slinked to his side. “Never forget I am not your sire.”
“But her—”
“She is my concern. I will find her.” He faced the empty night. Rest assured, I will find you, woman. The fact her scent lingered meant life still beat in her veins. It was the end of that scent he feared above all else. Even death. Unsure what might happen if she fed, he had to find her because that which bit her was no normal creature. No normal were, vamp or beast indeed.
“Why do need a Werewolf to hunt her? They are evil.”
“Not all of them. Some are no different than us…” He broke off mid-sentence and looked on the pathetic servile creature seated beside his foot.
“I take no offense, my lord. That you allow this privilege is more than I have the right to even dream of. If I dreamed.”
“Your loyalty gives you the right to be where you are. It takes a Werewolf to find something that lurks in the shadows, hunts at night and sleeps through the day.” His burden heavy, he again faced the night and sighed. One day you will dream.
A shiver glided down his spine as the scene flooded his mind. No sooner had he passed the house than an ear-piercing scream rent the air. He crashed through the living room window, did a quick shoulder roll and came to his feet in a ready stance. The sight of the sickly misshapen beast, its jaws sunk into the struggling redheaded woman’s arm, earned not only his growl, but the plunge of his lowered shoulder into the beast’s own. With the vicious animal knocked aside, he froze as it dashed through the shattered window and into the night.
Pursuit of the horrid fiend crossed his mind, until a feminine moan garnered his attention. In that split second, his world changed. Pursuit equaled no less than the death of the attacked redhead whereas tending her wounds required his blood and meant her future. He took the time to close her wounds, feed her from his wrist and help her through the next few weeks. A bond of trust formed between them during the time he watched over her.
Fate interceded three nights ago after he left to verify the rumored reports local authorities discovered a dead monster. That mere glimpse at a mangle corpse was all he needed to recognize what he once hoped never to see again. He dashed home, but it was too late as that two hour excursion was all his little she-beast needed to escape.
Back in the moment, he crouched down in the shadows of the steeple to await the one Werewolf he trusted above any other to help. Yes, her future hung in the balance of whether he found her before the others or not. But her future as what? And for how long? The woman who once trusted him enough to help her over her attack now prowled the shadows, her mind agonized confusion, her wits lost, her sanity in the balance. Continue reading here...