Wolves in the Shadows (The Wolf Clan Chronicles) (13 page)

He jumped as his phone buzzed in his pocket.  He pulled it out and glanced at the display, but he didn’t recognize the number. 

“Hello,” he answered. 

“Hey Chase!  It’s Michelle!” Her cheery voice grated on Chase’s ear.  “I just wanted to let you know that Lizzy hasn’t come home yet, and she isn’t answering any of my texts either.  It’s not like her at all
.  Anyways, it might sound weird, but just now I thought I heard a dog howling or something, and I randomly remembered that sometimes she goes and hangs out in those old orange groves across the street from West Hall.  You know the ones I mean?” 

Chase tried to reply, but Michelle was talking so fast that he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. 

“Anyways,” Michelle continued.  “She says something about it being nice a quiet or something like that.  She stayed out all night the a few nights ago, which, again is weird for her.  I don’t know if that will help at all, and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner, but then again I was really hung over and-” 

“Thanks, Michelle,” Chase interrupted her.  He didn’t have time to liste
n to this silly girl.  His worst fears were slowly being realized. 

“I’ve got to go,” he said.  “Take care.”  He hung up and tossed the phone into the trunk.  He didn’t need it to go off at an inopportune time tonight. 

A crooked smile flitted across his features.  It was not the smile that Elizabeth had come to like so much.  It was colder, deadlier.  He took a deep breath and reached into his trunk. 

It was time to go hunting. 

Chapter 5

It was fully dark in the basement when Elizabeth came to again.  Her head was still pounding from her attempt to reach Romulus.  She wondered if her efforts had actually been successful.  Had she really heard a wolf or had it only been her imagination?  She squinted into the darkness, trying to get her eyes to adjust. 

She sighed and rested her head against the wall behind her.  Her body felt stiff from being in the same position for hours and hours.  She stretched her legs in front of her, relieved that she was wearing her comfortable jeans. 

She closed her eyes and tried to think positive
ly, but it was difficult in the gloomy basement.  Minutes slipped by in silence so deep that she could hear her heartbeat ringing in her ears like a drum. 

Her eyes snapped open as a scratching noise and a familiar whining reached her ears. 

“Romulus?” she whispered in a soft rasp.  Her mouth was painfully dry.  She looked towards the window at the pair of gleaming yellow eyes that looked down at her.  She forced herself to breathe slowly and not get excited.  She needed to be calm in order to open her mind. 

With agonizing slowness, she felt her thoughts unfurl themselves and reach towards the wolf.  It was a delicate process, like tuning a radio to the perfect frequency with an especially sensitive knob.  With a jolt, she felt her mind connect with Romulus.  She could feel the wolf’s concern and anger.  He
was furious at whoever had done this to her and was determined to rip them to shreds

Elizabeth thought about what had happened when she had been captured, willing the wolf to see and understand that it was Demetrius.  Her head throbbed painfully.  Lord Reginald and Sir Marcus were not far away.  They were looking for her. 
Elizabeth felt like her head would burst if she didn’t break the connection soon.  There was something else out there that she couldn’t quite see. 

There was someone coming.  Did she think it?  Or Romulus? 
Romulus was inside her head as much as she was inside his.  Memories and thoughts that did not belong to her swirled into the forefront of her mind.  She was starting to forget where she ended and he began.  Fear gripped her.  What if she couldn’t get out?  She tried to pull herself free, but she felt herself being pulled in further.  Would she be trapped with all those souls?  Or would they become a part of her the way they were a part of Romulus?  She was beginning to drown in the wolf’s endless sea of being. 

#

Elizabeth gasped as the connection was abruptly severed.  The basement door flew open and light flooded the small room. 

Romulus snarled and smashed his head into the window. 

Elizabeth could not hold back a scream of horror as shards of glass mingled with blood rained down on her.  The wolf’s head had broken through the window, but there was no way that he would be able to fit through the small window without injuring himself further.  Already blood was streaming from deep gashes in his head and muzzle. 

“Romulus, no!” Elizabeth shouted hoarsely as a dark figure swept down the stairs towards her. 

A velvety laugh assaulted her ears as she suppressed a sob. 

“No need to worry, little girl,” Demetrius’ voice was like a gentle but still unwanted caress.  Elizabeth could not help but shudder at the sound of it
. 

“I’ll protect you from the big bad wolf.  See?  The beast can’t get you in here.”  He said “beast” as if it were a curse word.  Romulus yelped in pain and disappeared into the night. 

“I’m more worried about the ‘beast’ in here.”  Elizabeth tried to put the same amount of hatred into the word as she spoke. 

Demetrius sneered down at her.  “You’ll never be able to use your voice like I can, idiot girl,” he said.  “So don’t even try it.  And you should thank me.  Another few seconds and your mind would have been trapped inside that thing.” 

“Better than being trapped in here with you,” Elizabeth said defiantly.  She would have spat at him, but she had no saliva to spare. 

“You need to learn some manners, bitch.”  Demetrius’ eyes blazed with anger.  “I could have destroyed you a thousand times over.” 

As he spoke, Elizabeth felt ice cold razors cut into every part of her body.  He laughed as she writhed in agony. 

“What do you want with me?” she gasped, determined not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out
again. 

Demetrius frowned.  The pain began to recede. 

“Strange,” he said more to himself than to her. 

Elizabeth forced herself to breathe deeply, trying to slow her galloping heart. 

“You’re an especially stubborn brat,” Demetrius said.  He looked down at her with a curious expression on his face.  “You remind me of her.” 

Elizabeth had to ask, “who?” 

Demetrius ignored the question and held up a water bottle. 

“You should drink,” he said.  He unscrewed the lid and tipped it into Elizabeth’s mouth.  She swallowed it greedily
, but he poured it slowly, so she wouldn’t drown.  It was like the sweet nectar of life.  It could have been poisoned or drugged for all she knew, but at this point, she didn’t care. 

“Who do I remind you of,” Elizabeth asked again, panting ever so slightly. 

“Lady Anya Wolfrick,” Demetrius said at last. 

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise. 

“You look nothing like her of course,” he said looking away from her.  Much of the bitterness in his expression faded as he spoke.  “She was much prettier than you.  Beautiful in fact.  Eyes like the sky.  Hair like sunlight.  She brought sweet memories of things that I have not seen in such a long time, but you do have some of that courage of hers.  It is both admirable and vexing.” 

“From what I’ve heard, you didn’t find her so admirable,” Elizabeth said, surprised at her own daring. 

Demetrius chuckled. 

Elizabeth gritted her teeth in preparation for pain the never came. 

“Everyone loved Anya in their own way,” he said.  His voice was completely sincere.  “Including me.” 

Chapter 6

It did not take long for Chase to find his quarry in the orange groves.  He crept through the trees like a shadow. 

“I know you’re there,” the tall vampire that he was stalking growled.  He was unarmed and seemed unconcerned that he was being followed.  “You might as well come out and face me.” 

Chase stepped out from behind the bush-like tree that he had been crouching behind.  He drew the sword that he had strapped to his back in a fluid motion as he stood before his prey. 

“So all hunters have to wear black trench coats?” the vampire asked with a smirk.  “Is it a uniform or something?” 

Chase smiled crookedly in response.  “Something like that, vampire
,” he said.  He twirled his sword experimentally, testing the balance and letting his muscles remember what it had been like to wield such a weapon.  “It helps us hide in the shadows and conceal some of our weapons.” 

“But you only have that sword tonight,” the vampire said with a shrug.  “And you stealth leaves something to be desired.” 

“I’m a little out of practice,” Chase confessed.  He cursed inwardly for admitting his weakness.  He needed to be more on his guard. 

“I can tell,” the v
ampire said, his smirk deepening.  “And you seem to be missing a partner.” 

“Not all of us need to hunt in pairs,” Chase said. 

“But you do, especially if you really think to fight me.” 

“This sword is all I need to defeat you.” 

The vampire chuckled.  “You carry yourself with the confidence of a slayer, but you are reckless to come against me,” he said.  “Even with that Silversmith’s blade that you carry.  I can’t help but wonder where you might have stolen that from.” 

“I’m flattered that you recognize my title as a Slayer,” Chase replied, feeling his confidence grow as he spoke.  “I am the youngest in a century, but I wonder that this blade doesn’t impress you.  It was passed down
in my family for over centuries.  There’s only been one vampire who ever defeated the one who bore this weapon.” 

“That was me,” the vampire said.  His eyes were like chips of blue ice.  “If you’re not careful, I’ll do it again.  You see, I am Sir Marcus of the Wolves, though perhaps you would know me as the Kin-Slayer.” 

Chase felt a chill run down his spine.  Surely this foul creature was lying to him.  The Kin-Slayer was a myth. 

“It is true,” Sir Marcus said as if he could read Chase’s thoughts.  “I am the one who ripped Aldo’s heart from his chest while his sons watched and then cut them to pieces with Aldo’s own sword.” 

“Even if the legend is true,” Chase said.  “There’s no way it could have been you.”  Part of him knew that the vampire was telling the truth, but he did not want to believe it.  It could easily have been a clever ruse.  “You aren’t that powerful now,” he continued with more bravado than he actually felt.  “How could you have been powerful enough to defeat the Silversmith over 600 years ago?” 

“The swords of the Silversmith are merely tools,” Sir Marcus said with a careless shrug.  “The true importance is the one wielding the weapon.  I defeated Aldo because I was more skilled than him.” 

“That’s not the story I heard,” Chase replied.  He was getting tired of talking about old legends.  He had more pressing things on his mind.  He began to walk sideways, his sword held at the ready, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.  Marcus mirrored his steps, but his arms remained casually at his sides. 

“I could care less about the story that you heard,” Sir Marcus said darkly.  “
I want to know who you are, and why you’re here.” 

Chase did not want to answer, but he could feel the vampire pressing against his mind, compelling him to speak.  Clearly Sir Marcus was much more powerful than Chase had first thought. 

“I am Chase Brennan, Slayer of the Rat King,” he said in spite of his efforts to remain silent.  “My business here is my own.” 

Sir Marcus threw back his head and laughed. 

“So you’re the one that killed that old crackpot?” he said.  “Well done!  No wonder you are so confident that you can beat me.”  He frowned and cocked his head to the side.  “You must also be the Chase that Elizabeth has been telling me about.  I guess I was right about what was ‘off’ about you.” 

“So you know, Elizabeth,” Chase said.  He sounded calm, but a spark of anger had ignited in his chest at the thought of Lizzy being anywhere near this monster.  He gripped the hilt of his sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white
. 

“Yes
, I do,” Sir Marcus said.  “She’s really a sweet, delightful girl, and I think she’s rather fond of you.”  His tone was light and cheerful; it fanned the spark in Chase’s chest into a flame.  “She was talking about you quite a bit last night.” 

“Really now?” Chase’s voice rose to a shout as hot fury began to course through his veins.  “She didn’t mention anything about you!”  Without warning, he leapt forward, his sword flashing towards Marcus’ neck. 

“No bad,” Sir Marcus said.  The sword that he had used to block the blow was a twin of the one that Chase held. 

Chase had not seen him draw it.  He hadn’t even seen that he was armed. 

“Elizabeth never mentioned that you were this aggressive,” Sir Marcus continued casually.  “And a swordsman too for that matter.  I like that.” 

“Where is she,” Chase snarled as their blades met ag
ain with a deafening clash.  He could feel that vampire’s power working to break into his mind.