“Are you sure this is where it went?” Kendra hissed, trying to keep her voice down. She could feel sweat trickling down her spine from the humid, summer air.

“Shh,” Felix whispered, shooting a warning look at her.

Kendra rolled her eyes and stared at a dark alley in between a CVS and a deli called The Sub Shoppe. Pretty soon they could hear a man screaming followed by the sounds of a trash can being overturned.

“That’s our cue,” Jenna said. She had a huge, eager grin on her face.

“You know your friend is slightly crazy, right?” Conor said, looking at Jenna.

She shot him a dark look.

“I don’t think you really have any business throwing out the crazy coin, Mr. Gave-In-To-My-Blood-Hunger-And-Killed-People.”

He growled angrily at her but Kendra restrained him.

“Quit fighting, both of you,” she whispered. “Everyone needs to be focused.”

“But…,” he tried to say.

“You deserved it, now let’s go,” she commanded.

The four of them moved toward the alley where the screams were coming from. They’d been tracking a wendigo through the city. It was a nearly hairless beast with large, pointed ears, wispy white hair, and sickly yellow eyes. Its grotesquely huge maw was filled with yellowed fangs ranging from an inch to two inches long. From the records Jenna obtained, both its claws and its fangs secreted a clear, odorless neurotoxin that paralyzed its victims so they couldn’t run away as it devoured them.

Kendra shuddered at the thought of a monster hovering over her while she was completely powerless, ready to eat the flesh off her while she was still alive. She breathed deeply for a second, calming herself. Then she looked to the others.

“Let’s get that thing,” she told them.

Then she shifted into her monstrous wolf form. Her auburn fur shone under the light of a streetlamp and her massive paws stretched out on the pavement, her claws making loud scratching sounds. Felix grabbed her clothes and stuffed them into a backpack he was wearing.

Conor morphed into his wolf/human hybrid form.

Jenna whirled a pair of silver short swords.

After Felix stowed Kendra’s clothes in the bag he wore, his eyes flashed with blue light and the wind picked up around him.

With a rough howl, Kendra moved into the alley. The rest of her team followed without hesitation.

The wendigo was a nasty piece of work. It was as horrible to look at as she feared. When it saw them coming, it backed up a step, its mouth opening to show its vicious fangs. At its feet was its potential victim, a limp form on the rainsoaked alley floor.

Its eyes flashed yellow.

“Get awayss,” it hissed as it let its knees bend and its overlong arms drag on the ground. Kendra could see its venom dripping off its fangs and claws and made a mental note not to let them near her. “Thiss iss mine meal.”

Kendra growled.

Conor barked out a terrifying roar.

Jenna went into a casual fighting stance.

Felix’s eyes flashed bright blue again, this time a crackle of electricity sparking from them.

The wendigo stood there, hovering protectively over its meal. They all stood that way for a split second. The air was charged with tension so thick, it practically crackled along everyone’s skin.

Then Kendra charged.

The wendigo was ready for that. It opened its ugly mouth and let out an ear-splitting noise. It pierced Kendra’s skull like razor blades and she stumbled. Her giant paw slipped in a puddle and she went tumbling into the side of a dumpster. Conor didn’t fare any better. As soon as the sound left its mouth, he was on his knees with his hands clamped to the side of his head. His wolf form melted off his features and he was human again. Jenna would’ve been next, but Felix threw a cocoon of magic around themselves, protecting them from the sound wave. When the thing’s mouth snapped shut a few seconds later, he dropped it, reshaped his magic and sent two spinning disks of compressed air at it.

The wendigo was fast, but not fast enough. It dodged one of the disks, but the other one severed its right arm just below the shoulder. It fell to the ground with a meaty sounding thud. Yellow ichor flowed out of the stump and it let out a pain-filled screech. Kendra got back to her feet, but her head still felt slightly dizzy.

Conor’s ears trickled with blood, but he managed to get back to his feet too and shift again.

The wendigo looked from one threat to the next, its stump still dripping ichor, and seemed to know it couldn’t win. It turned and tried to flee.

Kendra ran full out. There was no way in hell she was letting that thing loose in her city. She was almost to it when something flew out from behind a darkened doorway and tackled the monster to the ground. There were several shouts and grunts.

She slowed and stopped, watching events unfold. The thing that just tackled the wendigo was...just a man. Although, judging by the way he fought, a very dangerous and capable one.

The wendigo tried to swipe its remaining clawed hand at the guy, but he nimbly dodged out of the way. Then he clamped a hand on its wrist, twisted with his body, and used the monster’s own momentum against it. In the blink of an eye, the wendigo was sailing through the air until it crashed headfirst into a brick wall. There was a sickening crunch and then it fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. Jenna walked past the guy and over to the wendigo.

Kendra immediately picked up the sounds of crackling pops coming from the creature. She knew what that sound meant. It was healing its broken neck and skull.

She let out a huff of breath.

Why do these things always regenerate? she asked herself.

Before it could fully heal, Jenna took one of her swords out and severed its head. She backed away from it and turned to look at the man. He was staring, somewhat in shock, at the two werewolves in the alley with him.

“W-what’s going on?” he asked, his voice shaky. His eyes went back to the wendigo. “What was that thing? It tried to fucking eat my friend. And what are they?” He pointed to Kendra and Conor, although Conor had already shifted back into his human form.

The man looked at him questioningly, blinking his eyes.

“I mean that?” He looked to Kendra.

“Don’t worry, Mr…?” Jenna asked, waiting for him to supply his name.

“Dr-Drake Harper,” he stammered. “What is that? Am I going crazy?”

“No,” Jenna responded, her voice kind and sweet.

She went up to the man and gently laid a hand on the shoulder of his dirty, ragged shirt. From the way he was dressed, it was pretty clear he was homeless. His shirt was stained and had a number of rips and holes in it. His jeans were nearly shredded, and the sole was coming off one of his sneakers. His blonde hair was filthy and unkempt, and he sported a rough-looking beard.

“You’re not crazy. We can explain all of this to you, if you want, but first we need to take care of your friend. We’re gonna get him to a hospital, okay? Stay here with those two.” She gestured toward Kendra and Conor. “My people will be coming to clean up the remains of that creature.”

The man glanced nervously at Kendra.

“Don’t worry, she’s a big puppy. She won’t hurt you.” Jenna smirked at Kendra.

Felix went over to the injured man the wendigo had originally targeted. He was also homeless and his dark, wrinkled skin was nearly ash grey. His brown eyes were open and staring and he had tears running down the corners of them.

“He’s got a deep laceration to his side and some venom around the wound. We need to move him quickly,” Felix said as he worked to make sure the man didn’t die.

“You ready?” Jenna asked.

Felix stood back up and tossed the backpack to Kendra. She snatched it out of the air and it hung from her muzzle. She walked, almost daintily, behind a dumpster as Felix, Jenna, and the homeless man vanished in a cyclone of air. Drake’s mouth opened in a wide in surprise.

Kendra shifted back to human, opened the backpack, and slipped her clothes back on. Then she walked out from behind the dumpster, Conor coming up beside her.

“I’m Kendra Henner. This is Conor Dewar,” she said, trying to sound friendly. But Drake wasn’t having any of it.

“What happened to the big dog?” he asked. “Was that you?”

He was rapidly getting hysterical.

“It must be the PTSD,” he mumbled to himself.

Kendra raised an eyebrow at Conor.

“We’ll explain everything,” she told him. “Just try to be calm.”

“Calm?” he cried. “I’m losing my fucking mind and you want me to be calm?”

He started advancing toward Kendra, his eyes hard and angry. Conor stepped protectively in front of her.

“I want answers,” Drake told them, becoming openly hostile now. “I’ll get them too, even if I have to wring both your necks to do it.”

He flexed his fists, popping out the muscles in his forearms. Before he could attack, however, Felix and Jenna came whirling back into the alley. Felix immediately saw the look on Drake’s face and knew he had to do something to stop him.

“Sominus,” he said, pointing at Drake.

A blue spark zipped from the end of his finger and smacked into Drake’s forehead. He immediately collapsed to the ground and started snoring loudly.

“What did you do?” Jenna asked, outraged. She ran to Drake, checking his vitals.

“He’s under a sleeping spell,” Felix told her. “It’ll wear off in an hour. He’ll be fine. The only reason I did it was because he looked like he was about to attack Kendra and Conor.”

“He was,” Conor grumbled.

“Well, how would you react if you were human and been attacked by a monster only to be left with two other monsters?” she asked, getting defensive.

“We’re not monsters,” Conor replied.

“Sorry…werewolves,” she shot back, a sarcastic tinge to her tone.

“What are you going to do with him?” Kendra asked.

“I don’t know yet,” she responded. “I can’t just leave him here. Maybe I’ll take him to my dad’s, and we can talk to him there.”

“Just as long as you keep him away from us,” Kendra told her.

Jenna glared at her but didn’t respond. She looked to Felix instead.

“Help me with him,” she ordered.

Felix sighed heavily and went over to her. He bent down, placing a hand on both Jenna and Drake.

“See you guys later,” Felix said.

They vanished again.

Kendra turned to Conor. He smiled at her and hugged her close to him.

“Some date night huh?” he asked, kissing her passionately. She returned it with pleasure.

“I always knew you were a hopeless romantic. Do you always take your dates to such intimate, beautiful locales?” she joked, trying to ease her own exasperation.

This was the fourth date night Jenna ruined, and she was beginning to think her best friend was doing it on purpose. Jenna Bishop was a Defaeco Knight, which was a very secret group of Knights Templar that fought all the monsters humanity said didn’t exist. Conor also happened to be a werewolf and one with a very bad past. Awhile back, he’d given into his blood hunger, the wolf part of his nature that was enthralled with hunting and killing anything it came across. Because of that, he’d gotten put on the Defaeco Knight’s list of creatures that needed killed. However, he managed to avoid confrontation with the shady group of monster hunters. Since then, he’d cleaned himself up and reclaimed his humanity. Now he was Kendra’s boyfriend and Jenna hated it.

“Only the best for my girl,” Conor said, looking around at the dirty, trash-ridden alleyway.

He kissed her again, but it was strained. They knew Jenna was doing her best to sabotage them. All the jokes in the world couldn’t ease that kind of strain on their relationship.

They waited together for twenty minutes before a plain, white panel van pulled up at the mouth of the alley. The doors slid open and two pages, or knights-in-training, hopped out. They were both young, barely in their twenties. One was a male that still showed signs of acne on his face and the other was a cute girl dressed in a fitted shirt with a beach scene on it and stained jeans. She was also stomping around in military-issue combat boots. She strolled up to them, a smile on her face.

“Got another one for us I see,” she said, cheerful.

The guy didn’t bother talking to them. In fact, he was trying to do whatever he could to be as far away from them as he humanly possible. Kendra immediately ran up to the girl and gave her a hug.

“Gwen!” she practically yelled, nearly jumping up and down.

She’d met Gwen only a couple of months ago, just after she’d struck up her new treaty with Elijah, but it felt like she’d known her for years. With her sharp, sarcastic tongue and witty jokes, she’d been really easy to talk to and get to know. It was one of the few friendships in her life that she didn’t feel like she had to work to obtain. Instead, it had been something genuine and easy.

“You didn’t tell me you were back.”

“I got in like three hours ago.” She stretched. “Man, I hate planes. My ass still feels half-numb.”

“How’d you like London?”

“It was pretty sweet,” she responded. “Loved the pubs. And the girls.”

She gave Kendra a conspiratorial wink and they both started laughing.

“Mind helping me with this?” the male asked in a dry, slightly irritated voice. “Or do you want me to report back to Mr. Bishop that you aren’t capable of doing your job?”

Kendra shot the man a dark look and he immediately paled.

“Dick,” Gwen whispered beneath her breath. She hugged Kendra again and stepped back. “I gotta help him. Call me later okay?”

“Sure,” Kendra replied.

They watched the two pages carry off the body, the wendigo’s severed arm tucked underneath the guy’s armpit. After the creature’s body was in the van, they came back and hosed off the yellow ichor.

Gwen said a final goodbye, and then the van drove off.

“Come on,” Conor said. “Maybe we can still salvage what’s left of our date.”

They left together, heading for the closest restaurant they could find.

Drake woke up in a dark room, on a mattress so soft, he practically sank into it. Maybe woke up was the wrong word. It was more like he twitched himself awake, his body jerking uncomfortably. Visions of nightmare creatures with long talon-like claws and ripping fangs, of huge monster dogs, and half-man/half-wolf-like beings rampaged through his mind. When he woke, he could still see them hovering like twisted ghosts in front of his face.

He took deep, calming breaths. He focused on breathing in and out until those wraith-like images disappeared. Then he looked around the room. It was enormous, almost bigger than his apartment had been (when he had one that is). The walls were done in rich wood paneling and expensive, designer furniture was everywhere. He quickly got out of bed, his heart still hammering in his chest.

Where the hell am I? What is going on?

The door opened and a very pretty blonde entered. She flicked on the overhead lights, and Drake squinted a little until his eyes could adjust.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” the girl said.

She looked really familiar, but he couldn’t immediately place where he’d seen her before. Then, a second later, his mind supplied the answer. Her name was Jenna Bishop. She was a celebrity model and one of the city’s social elite. Her father, if he remembered, ran a successful marketing/media company.

“What am I doing here?” he asked, and not pleasantly.

“You should get cleaned up. We have a lot to talk about,” she told him. She glanced at a door off to his left. “There’s a shower in there and some clean clothes. I wasn’t sure what would fit you, so if something doesn’t, let me know and I’ll see what else I can find. Oh, and there’s also clippers, shaving cream, a razor, and some deodorant.”

She left without another word, leaving Drake very confused.

He looked at himself, looked at the bathroom door, and finally gave in. It would be good to get clean. Being homeless was depressing on so many levels, but the biggest thing he hated was not being able to get clean. The grunge of living on the streets seemed to seep into his pores, like it stained him. No matter how many gas station sinks he used to clean it off, it never seemed to be enough. It was always there.

He went over to the door and opened it. The inside looked more like a five-star spa than someone’s bathroom. He walked over to the stand-up shower, took his dirty, ragged clothes off, and stepped inside. He put the water on as hot as it would go and just let it run over his head and shoulders for a while. It felt like heaven.

He stayed in there for over an hour, cleaning and scrubbing at himself. When he got out, he toweled himself off and wrapped it around his waist. He swiped a hand over the fogged-up mirror and looked at himself. His blonde hair was too long, and his beard was thick and scratchy. He wasn’t used to that. He was used to his military haircut and seeing himself like that was unsettling. He didn’t even look like himself.

He grabbed the clippers and took them to his beard first. He watched the hair fall lazily to the sink. Then he grabbed the shaving cream and razor and shaved the rest off. He looked at himself and after a little hesitation, grabbed the clippers again and took them to his hair. It wasn’t exactly his high and tight, but it was definitely better than his long blonde hair and he looked more like himself than he had in years.

His eyes traveled to the warped, twisted skin of his shoulder and side. The scars came from a severe burn he’d gotten in Afghanistan while on tour there. He rubbed his fingers over it and all he could remember was the pain. The pain of knowing that he was burning alive. The pain of seeing all his friends dying around him.

He slammed a fist on the counter and turned away from the mirror. He found the fresh clothes in a neat pile on a chair. He put them on. They were somewhat tight. He was bulkier across the chest and shoulders than their original owner, but it didn’t bother him. They actually looked pretty good. The shirt was a soft, maroon button-down that he left open at the throat and the pants were a pair of khaki slacks. He laced up the expensive leather shoes and walked out of the bathroom.

He planned to just glide out unseen and leave the over-luxurious place, but as soon as he opened the door, the girl (Jenna, he reminded himself) was there to meet him. As soon as she saw him, her eyes widened a little and she looked at him appraisingly.

“You look…,” she paused, searching for the right word, “really good.”

“Uh…thanks,” he replied, embarrassed.

Jenna just stood there for a moment longer, looking at him. She seemed to realize she was staring and snapped herself out of it.

“Um…come with me,” she said, grabbing his hand. “There are some things we should probably talk about.”

The pale, talon-clawed creature shoved itself to the front of his mind, making the bomb blast he’d been in seem like child’s play by comparison. He shuddered slightly, wishing that it had been some weird, elaborate hallucination instead of reality. Judging by how serious Jenna was being, though, he doubted his mind had made up the whole thing. Strangely, that made him feel a little better. At least he knew he wasn’t going crazy.

She led him through the enormous house and into what looked like a den. Sitting on a leather sofa was Jenna’s father, Elijah. He knew the man only by reputation and what he read in the newspapers. Apparently, cutthroat businessmen were even afraid of the guy. As soon as Drake entered the room, however, Elijah got up and walked over to him. He held out his hand.

“Drake Harper, I’m Elijah Bishop. It’s a pleasure to be in the presence of a real American hero,” he said.

A surge of anger hit Drake at the comment. He wasn’t a hero. The only thing that made him one was being the only survivor in a blast that had killed all his fellow soldiers and friends.

“Been reading up on me, Mr. Bishop?” Drake said, his voice dry.

“I like to be aware of who my daughter brings home,” he replied casually. It was meant to be a joke, but Drake didn’t laugh.

“Why am I here?” he said instead.

“To the point, I see. I like that in people. Not many of your type left these days.” He gestured to a chair next to him and Drake sat down.

“Would you like anything to eat? Or something to drink?” Elijah asked.

Drake ground his teeth angrily, trying to quell his rising impatience.

“If you have something you want to talk about, talk. I wouldn’t waste your time and I would appreciate it if you didn’t waste mine.”

Jenna looked at her father uneasily. He smiled reassuringly at her though.

“Of course,” Elijah said. “You’ll have to excuse me. The nature of our conversation is somewhat delicate. I thought easing you into it would be more practical. I apologize.”

“What did I see tonight?” Drake asked. “I thought I was losing my mind, but the way you people have been acting is telling me that it was all real. Right?”

“I’m afraid so,” Elijah replied, his voice weirdly calm. “Humans have fought hard to make themselves believe that the monsters in the legends and myths of old are all fake, made up fairytales. It makes them feel better. That lie, however, is a somewhat poor defense against those that would prey on them. My organization, for lack of a better word, was formed to take care of these monsters. We’ve been around for centuries.”

“Monsters are real?” Drake asked. He would’ve loved to disbelieve the man or to write him off as some eccentric millionaire, but the things he saw (and couldn’t stop remembering) confirmed Elijah was telling the truth. “And your organization fights them?”

“I belong to the Order of the Defaeco Knights, a very ancient sect of the Knights Templar. My daughter is one as well. We protect people, Mr. Harper. It is an old calling, but everyone that joins is dedicated to our mission,” Elijah explained. He looked very seriously at Drake. “You asked me if I’ve been reading up on you and you’re right. I have been. You were a Gunnery Sergeant in the United States Marine Corps. You’ve received numerous commendations and medals, including a Purple Heart. You’ve done two tours of duty in Afghanistan, but during your last one, your platoon was caught by an IED. You were the only survivor. Since returning to the States, you’ve held several different jobs but none of them for more than a week. You have no current address and, judging by your appearance when my daughter brought you here, no means to support yourself.”

“What exactly are you saying?” Drake asked. He was angry that this man knew so much about him, but there didn’t seem to be a whole lot he could do about it.

“You are a hero, Mr. Harper, whether you want to admit it or not. When the wendigo attacked your friend tonight, you fought it. Not many people would do that. You have training. You have courage. You have everything we look for in a new recruit,” Elijah said. “I want you to join the Order.”

Drake looked from Elijah and then to Jenna.

“No,” he promptly said.

He got up and started walking out the door.

“I’ll pay you back for the clothes,” he told them as he walked out of the room.

He was almost to the door when Jenna caught up to him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her eyes sharp and narrowed. “My father is giving you a chance to make a real difference. You can change your life and you’re just going to throw that all away?”

He ripped his arm out of her grip and got right in her face.

“Why should I protect humans?” he shouted. “That thing I fought doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is. Humans.” He laughed mockingly. “Humans are the worst monsters on this planet. Humans trick children into blowing themselves up. They will murder, rape, torture, or slaughter other people just for kicks. Why the hell should I try and save humanity? We’re a virus that won’t stop consuming and ravaging this world until nothing is left.”

He opened the door and was in the hallway.

Jenna spoke and he froze in place, listening to her.

“You’ve seen people do bad things and I’m sorry about that, but there is still hope for people. They are still good. They don’t deserve to be hunted and killed by things they have no protection against.”

Drake paused for a long time, thinking on her words. All the horrors he’d witnessed in his life seemed to jump into his mind, disgusting him even further.

“Yes,” he replied, “they do.”

He walked away from her and didn’t look back.

Jenna walked into the large, roomy den where her father was still sitting. She was angry with Drake but more than that, she was disappointed. It went beyond recruiting him. Obviously, his skill set would’ve been a great addition to the Order but what she really wanted was to help him. Anyone that would put themselves in harm’s way to protect somebody else was worth saving. But she could only save the people that wanted to be saved and Drake apparently didn’t want that.

“What did Mr. Harper have to say?” her father asked. He poured himself a little whiskey from the bar and quickly drank it, his back to her.

“He just wasn’t interested,” she responded.

“I see,” was all he said. He turned around and looked at his daughter. “What happened tonight, exactly?”

“I got a lead on a wendigo terrorizing the city. Felix, Kendra, Conor, and I tracked it down. You know the rest.” She poured herself a shot of whiskey and threw it back. Then she went to the chair that Drake had been sitting in and sat down.

“How was she doing?”

Jenna let out a frustrated sigh.

“You know you can ask her yourself. It’s not like she hates you…anymore, anyway. You lied to her, kept things from her, almost destroyed her pack, but she’s forgiven you. Why don’t you tell her who we really are to her and we can all move on? You know I’ve always hated keeping things from her.”

“She won’t understand,” Elijah responded, hotly. “If it were that simple, I would’ve done it years ago. Besides, she’s been through a lot already. This truth would be too much for her.”

“She’s stronger than you know,” Jenna remarked. “Besides, it’s not like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is if you take into account the fact that she had to grow up in a rundown orphanage alone and afraid.” He sat down across from his daughter.

“I’m lucky that she’s still talking to me. I lied to her too, on your orders. The longer you wait, the more you risk losing her altogether. You and me both,” Jenna said. She got up and gave her father a hug. “I’m going to stay here tonight. I’m exhausted. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweetie,” he responded, watching her head down the hall to her room.

Jenna closed the door behind her and sat on the edge of her bed. Her floral pattern comforter was messy from where Drake had been sleeping in it, but she wasn’t really paying attention. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of him. She’d been surprised at his appearance when he came out of her room before. He was very attractive, but his eyes had drawn her in the most. There was so much depth in them. He looked like a man that had lived ten times longer than his actual age. The worse thing, however, was seeing the pain there.

She couldn’t stop herself from wanting to erase it, even though he clearly didn’t want her help. She replayed their conversation in her mind. The look on his face as he talked had been one of the worst things she’d ever seen, and that was coming from a girl who faced down monsters on a regular basis. To see his lack of hope and complete dismissal of humanity staring back at her was disquieting.

After all, she risked her life for humans.

Is it really all for nothing? Are humans the worst of the monsters?

She knew Drake was wrong but she couldn’t get his words out of her mind, regardless.

Kendra sat across from Conor in a tiny Italian restaurant they managed to find, watching him closely. A lot happened in the six months since she realized her father was a werewolf and had not only turned her into one as well but tricked her into becoming the Alpha as well. The one good thing from the whole mess (other than her newfound beauty and confidence) was that she’d met Conor Dewar. He was everything she wanted. Caring. Protective. Loving. And hot.

Definitely hot.

She smiled to herself and reached out to grasp his hand.

“You’ve taken to this new life remarkably well,” he told her as he squeezed her hand in return. She felt a wave a warmth flow through her at his touch. It flooded her entire body with pleasure.

“I think that has a lot more to do with you helping me and…” she paused for a second, “and being the Alpha, I suppose. I’ve never felt stronger in my whole life. Everything is just sharper. It’s clearer. But…”

She stopped, her hesitation giving away her fear and she nervously rubbed the red symbol covering her palm. The three-spiraled pattern of the Alpha mark almost looked like it was staring at her, mocking her weakness.

“But you’re afraid you won’t be a strong enough one to protect the pack?” he guessed, looking at her with his deep green eyes.

“The thought had crossed my mind,” she whispered, almost ashamed to admit it.

Before she’d been turned, she was a quiet, awkward girl that never stood up for herself. Fear was not just a constant in her life, it was the rule. She’d been afraid to speak up. She’d been afraid to come out of a shell she’d spent a lifetime building. She’d been afraid to let anyone truly in. More than that, however, she’d been weak. She saw that now and she never wanted to be weak again. Especially in front of Conor or any other wolf in her pack. She wanted them to see her as a strong leader.

“I’ll say it again, even though I’ve said it a million times to you already,” Conor replied. “You are strong. You defeated a man that had gained control of your brother and even the big bad Defaeco leader, Elijah Bishop. That’s no small feat. Your strength swept away his magic, Kendra! Yours alone.”

He smiled hugely and it made her melt. She loved his smile. However, she couldn’t help but squirm a little at his words.

He said she did it alone, but he was wrong. She never told him that her mother had been there too, locked inside Jonah’s mind. Trapped there. He’d tried to use his magic to enslave her, to force her to kill her own child. He’d nearly succeeded too. If it hadn’t been for Kendra’s grandfather, her mother would’ve murdered her all those years ago. But the act of forcing her mother to do something so completely against her nature had an unintended side effect. Her mind fractured and then dissipated. The magical link that Jonah created to control her acted as something like a net. It captured the broken pieces of her mother’s mind and reformed them inside the twisted mage’s own. There she’d remained, trapped and helpless, her physical body wasting away in a mental institution. When Jonah came for Kendra, trying the same trick, her mother finally managed to break free. Together they were able to bounce Jonah’s magic back onto himself, searing his mind into uselessness. He was the empty shell now.

Her mother, however, was far from recovered.

Kendra had been to see her as often as she could. A full-time job as a graphic designer in a huge and well-respected marketing firm combined with being the Alpha of a pack of monster-hunting werewolves didn’t leave her with a lot of free time.

It was insanely frustrating. She’d been alone almost her entire life. After her mother got locked away and her grandfather died, no one had ever been there for her. Her father, Merle, had come close, but he never told her the truth of who he really was until it was too late. The only other one that came close was Jenna and even she had lied to her for their entire relationship.

There was a chance her mother would come back to herself now, and she found herself anxiously waiting for that to happen. She wanted someone that just simply cared about her. No hidden motives. No secrets. No psychotic friends that can wield fire and invade people’s minds and take over their bodies.

Was that too much to ask?

“You okay?” Conor asked, concerned. “You seem really lost in thought.”

Kendra jerked somewhat, blushing deeply. She hadn’t realized she’d zoned out so completely.

“Sorry,” she said, lamely.

“You have a lot on your mind. It’s okay,” he replied.

The waiter arrived, carrying two steaming plates. He set her food down and it smelled so good, her mouth started watering. She’d gotten a three cheese, baked ziti. She looked over at Conor and saw a mound of chicken Alfredo in front of him.

She watched him load on the pepper and then dig in. She ate with a little more reservation, but barely. As it turned out, monster-hunting was a calorie burner and most times, her stomach was growling out its dissension at constantly being ignored. It was worse when she smelled blood, though. Then the baser instincts of her wolf side threatened to take over and sometimes it was really hard to force it down.

That really scared her, but she kept it to herself.

“Have you heard from Merrick lately?” Conor asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He set down his fork and looked forlornly at his plate. It was empty. He grabbed a breadstick and started chewing on it, leaning forward slightly.

“No,” she responded, feeling sad.

As it turned out, she’d gone from an orphan to finally having a father, only she was forced to kill him. Then she found out she had a brother, but her brother had been doing his best to try and kill her and take the Alpha power from her. Come to find out, though, Jonah had been controlling him too, although a little less overtly. Mostly, the bastard had switched on Merrick’s blood hunger and turned him crazy. He barely managed to snap himself out of Jonah’s control before he was able to savagely kill her. When he realized what he’d done, he ran. Kendra managed to talk to him one time since then, and it was mostly an unending series of apologies from him. She could barely get in enough words to tell him she understood and that she didn’t blame him for anything that happened. He didn’t want to hear it though. He exiled himself. She had no clue where he was or when, if ever, he would be back.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Conor asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied. She finished up the last of her ziti half-heartedly.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” he suddenly said.

She looked up at him.

“What’s not my fault?” she asked.

“What happened to your father. And Merrick. I know you blame yourself,” he responded.

“It’s kind of hard not to. Jonah came after Merrick and used him to kill Merle. He used my mom to try to kill m...” she stopped herself suddenly.

Conor’s eyes widened.

“Your mom tried to kill you?” he asked, shocked. “Jonah…”

His voice trailed off. He looked at her.

She nodded slowly.

“He made your mom try and kill you?”

She nodded again.

“That’s sick. How’d you find out?”

She hesitated for a second and then decided to tell him the truth.

“Her mind was locked inside Jonah’s. It was some kind of side effect of what he did to her. When he came after me, she helped me turn his power back on him. You think it was my power that saved me, but it was her…somehow.”

Conor was silent for a long time.

“Does that mean she’s going to get better?” he asked. “Did stopping Jonah free her?”

“I keep hoping it will but when I get the chance to see her, she looks the same. I don’t really know what it means. I’ve never had any real experience with magic before. Sometimes, though, I think I can see her move. It gives me hope.”

He got up suddenly and sat next to her in the booth, hugging her closely.

“I think anyone that can survive in that maniac’s mind for as long as she did has an excellent chance to come back from what he did to her.” He kissed the top of her head, taking in the scent of her hair. It smelled like honeysuckle and jasmine.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

“Why thank you, kind sir.” She laughed, glad that she could still laugh after the craziness her life had become.

She shoved her dark, depressing thoughts aside and got up. Conor held out his hand and bowed to her like a 19th century gentleman. Which wasn’t far off the mark considering he was alive in the 19th century. That had been somewhat hard to wrap her mind around. Apparently, thanks to a werewolf’s regenerative abilities, they lived for quite a long time. She was still coming to grips with the fact that Merle had been almost six centuries old before he’d been killed while Conor himself was going on 178 in August. She took his hand and he kissed the top of it. Then he pulled out his wallet and laid a couple of bills on the table.

They left the restaurant and headed outside. It was still humid and sticky, but some of the heat had been leeched away as the night deepened. A silvery, crescent moon hung in the air.

She breathed in through her nose. The scents of the city around her filled her nostrils. In the time since she’d become a werewolf, she’d learn to control the overwhelming sensations her heightened senses brought. She found she could turn them up or down at will. She tuned her sense of smell up as well as her hearing. It was a defense mechanism Ian (Conor’s father) had taught her. The senses of a werewolf were so powerful, they were very nearly precognitive. All of the sights, sounds, smells, touches, and even tastes were taken in and processed on a subconscious level and could alert her to potential threats long before they showed up. Six months later and she was doing it on pure reflex now.

The walk home was uneventful. They talked and joked, even holding hands like love-sick high schoolers. Considering she’d never had a boyfriend in high school, she found she enjoyed the experience immensely. She enjoyed the walk home but was glad to finally get up to her apartment. With work and her after work activities, she was beat. She unlocked her door and Conor followed her inside.

“Jenna?” Kendra called. Her apartment was dark, and no one answered her. She turned to Conor. “Where is she?”

She looked around and spotted the phone on the kitchen counter. There was a tiny red light blinking on it, signaling they had a voicemail. She pressed the button and Jenna’s voice filled the empty apartment.

“Sorry, girl. I’m exhausted. I’m staying the night at my dad’s. See you tomorrow.” The phone went silent.

Before she could do anything else, Conor grabbed her around the small of her back and pulled her close to him. He kissed her, his soft lips molding against hers. His desire was intense, and she reveled in it. She kissed him back, her hand tangling in his thick, dark hair.

He growled low in his throat, a deep rumble that sent waves of pleasure running through her. His hands flowed down her back like water and gripped her butt. He hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around him. Then he carried her like that to the bedroom and they collapsed on the soft mattress, both of them breathing hard.

She didn’t so much yank his shirt off as completely shred it while he pulled hers up over her head, revealing her lacy black bra. He leaned in and planted a line of kisses on her neckline while his expert hands undid the clasp of her bra.

All the stresses of the day melted away and everything else just disappeared.

For those few, wonderful hours, they were the only two people in the world.

Kendra was sleeping very peacefully, wrapped in a cocoon of bliss. Until a noise woke her up. Her eyes snapped opened, revealing her pitch-black room. She concentrated, trying to figure out what woke her up. A second later she heard it again. The doorknob to her apartment was rattling like someone was trying to break in. She looked over at Conor and found him sound asleep.

The rattling sound became louder and more insistent. Her instincts surged forward in a rush, putting her on edge. She quietly got out of bed and shivered when the air conditioning blew cold air across her naked body. She quickly slipped into a pair of pajamas and then headed to the door to her bedroom. The darkness around her suddenly flared into brilliant hues of amber gold. Seeing in the dark might prove useful if whoever was trying to get in meant to hurt her, she reasoned.

She nudged the door open slowly, peering through the small crack that opened up. Her apartment appeared empty, but the rattling noise was getting even louder. Whoever was out there wanted in and they definitely weren’t going away until they did. She wondered briefly if it was Jenna, deciding to come home after all only to realize she’d forgotten her key. She dismissed the idea though. Jenna wouldn’t make such a racket, knowing it might set Kendra’s wolf alter-ego off.

She glided through the living room, her eyes changing to burning yellow orbs. Her teeth lengthened into fangs and claws sprang out on her hands. When she was next to the little bar in the kitchen, she flared her nostrils.

And regretted it immediately.

A thick, disgusting scent pummeled her sense of smell, threatening to make her hurl. She had to fight hard not to gag. It smelled like rotting, hot garbage mixed with sewage.

Her wolf overrode her rational, human mind. It jumped to the forefront and took control effortlessly. It was clear that whatever was out there wasn’t stopping by for a cup of sugar or to chat about the latest building gossip. In fact, Kendra was a hundred percent sure that the thing wasn’t even human.

Anger filled her when she realized that.

Her apartment was her sanctuary. It was her safe haven.

Now, some creature was violating that. In recent months, she found out the hard way that Lycaon City was not what she thought it was. It was home to some amazingly vile, and terrifying, things. And now one of those things was trying to break into her home.

She took a deep breath and without hesitation ran at the front door. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to live long enough to tell its friends where she lived. She was about to fling the door open but before she could, something pierced the skin of her neck. There was a sharp, biting pain and a couple seconds of confusion. Then her entire body went slack. Her limbs felt heavy and weak. Her legs wouldn’t hold her weight anymore. She collapsed to the ground, unable to move. She tried to call out to Conor but her mouth wouldn’t open either.

The rattling on her doorknob quit. She watched as the deadbolt slid open and the lock unlocked itself. Then the door opened and a creature that looked no taller than three or four feet strolled inside.

It was easily the ugliest thing she’d ever seen. Even uglier than the wendigo, and that was saying something. It had a giant head which was vastly disproportionate to the rest of its squat, hairy little body. Its feet were five or six times bigger than they needed to be. Each gnarly hand had three fingers that ended in wicked-looking claws and it peered at Kendra with beady, red eyes. It tilted its head at her as it came in; a smile full of sharp teeth cracked its face. It watched her for a minute or two, rubbing its hands together like a praying mantis.

Kendra struggled to get up, but whatever poison she’d been injected with kept her paralyzed.

“Good,” the thing in front of her said. “Good, good, good. Wolfie there could’ve been more trouble. More trouble, trouble, trouble, Jarwink.”

“Indeed,” a voice said. It was a distinctly nasally voice. “She will be pleased with us. Pleased. Very much pleased.”

Kendra felt a wash of cold fear spread through her as she realized what happened. The rattling door had been a diversion. The real threat had already been in her apartment and she missed it. The one called Jarwink bent down until its ridiculously huge head was in front of hers. The smell of garbage and sewage became even more powerful.

“We will have so much fun with you, Wolfie,” Jarwink exclaimed, rubbing his hands in that weird praying mantis way again.

Without further comment, the two bent down and picked Kendra up. She struggled uselessly as they carried her out of her apartment and to the stairs. The worst thing was being completely powerless. She never thought she would have to feel that way again.

It made her angry.

Suddenly, the palm with the alpha mark on it started to itch furiously. A sensation of warmth flowed out of it and up her entire body. Within seconds, some of her muscles that had felt dead and lifeless before sang with life and energy. She didn’t let on though. Not yet. She kept her body limp and loose, waiting for the right moment to strike. It presented itself as the…things…were nearing the fifth-floor landing. They broke out into a heated argument over who got to do what to Kendra. They both set her carefully on the stairs and started shouting at each other.

“No,” one said, forcefully. Apparently, its name was Sputnick. Sometime during the trek Kendra had picked up on it. “No, no, no, no.”

“Yes,” the other one, Jarwink she remembered, said, although the two looked so alike it was hard to tell them apart.

“It was my plan. Mine. I get to have the fun. Me!”

“No!” Sputnick cried. Literally too. Greasy, fat tears travelled down the pockmarked skin of its cheeks. “You always get to have the fun. It’s my turn. My turn!”

Kendra waited, trying to be patient. She realized she didn’t have much time, but the last of the paralyzing drug was still wearing off. She could feel the alpha power inside her pushing the drug’s effects away. It surged down her veins like lava and eradicated her paralysis. A couple more seconds was all she needed.

Thankfully, Jarwink and Sputnick were more than happy to give them to her. Their altercation progressed from shouts to physical combat.

Jarwink stepped on Sputnick’s huge foot.

Sputnick rammed his enormous head right into Jarwink’s nose.

Jarwink bit down on Sputnick’s shoulder. The wound immediately started drooling a dark, nearly black, blood.

Sputnick grabbed Jarwink’s lopsided ears and yanked as hard as he could.

They continued on like that for a minute or two more before they realized that their prey was no longer lying awkwardly on the stairs. When they did notice, they stopped in their tracks. They looked like the world’s ugliest statues.

Sputnick gulped deeply.

Jarwink let out a pathetic meep sound.

Kendra stood taller than them even as a human. In her alpha state, she might as well have been a giant. Her huge, humanoid, wolf form regarded the two creatures. Her muzzle wrinkled in on itself as she growled ominously. Her red-auburn fur shone a bright copper in the stairwell’s lights.

“Meep,” Sputnick spluttered.

“Run!” Jarwink shouted.

Kendra shot forward, reaching out with her huge, clawed hands. She almost managed to nab Sputnick by the foot as he bounded off the walls, the railings, the stairs, and pretty much anything else he could jump off of in his efforts to escape the big scary werewolf. Jarwink avoided a devastating blow from Kendra and jumped straight up. He turned around in mid-air and landed feet first on the underside of the staircase above them. He promptly started running, (still upside down), heading back up the building instead of down. Sputnick managed to evade Kendra again, this time shooting underneath her legs, and made his way up the stairs too.

Kendra started after them, her clawed feet clacking on the cement stairs. She had to give the little creeps their due. They were incredibly fast.

But she was fast too.

She raced after them and five or six minutes later, all three burst onto the roof of her building. A thin layer of gravel covered it, making it hard for Kendra to slow down. Jarwink and Sputnick looked at her with overlarge, wide, and very terrified eyes. Realizing they had nowhere else to go, they dropped to the ground and started bowing to her.

“Don’t kill us,” they muttered over and over again, bowing each time.

Kendra stalked toward them, ready to rip their throats out. She was confident that she could deal with them quickly and still get a little sleep before she had to wake up for work.

“We’re sorry, sorry, sorry,” Sputnick spluttered.

“She made us,” Jarwink added.

That made her pause.

“Who made you?” she growled, her voice thick and rough.

The two of them both flinched at the sound of it.

She remembered them mentioning a mysterious she before, but the information hadn’t sunk in. Now that she had them trapped, she figured she might as well get something for her troubles. Info on a mysterious entity out to get her seemed like a good trade to her.

She walked a few steps closer, noticing that the two little creeps were watching her avidly. There were weird looks of anticipation on their faces. They looked almost eager. She took another step forward and stopped. A blinding flash of light appeared. When it disappeared, she blinked in confusion. Spots danced in front of her eyes for a minute before she was able to see clearly again.

The creeps abruptly quit talking. They stopped bowing too and the fear they’d shown before suddenly vanished. Broad, toothy grins appeared on their hideous faces. They got up, holding out their hands so that their scarred palms were pointing o the sky. Each one was glowing with soft white light.

“We’re lucky,” Sputnick commented. “This Wolfie is stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Yes,” Jarwink replied, eerily confident. “Walked right into our trap.”

Kendra tried to back up, but her feet felt glued to the roof. She struggled harder but no matter how much she tried; she couldn’t move. The ugly creatures approached her again and there was nothing she could do about it.

“You’d better kill me now,” she spat at them, her words more of a growl than anything else. “Because when I get free, I am going to murder you both.”

Jarwink walked up to her with no trace of fear. He peered up at Kendra’s massive head.

“She wouldn’t like that,” he laughed. “She wouldn’t like that at all.”

His hand started glowing again and he reached out to touch Kendra. She tried to back away, but she was still glued to the floor. The creep’s hand touched the fur of her left leg and the minute it did, she felt a deep, pervading weakness. It flowed through her in less than a second, crashing into her head like a tidal wave. Her alpha state melted off her and she collapsed, naked and unconscious, to the gravel rooftop.

Sputnick joined Jarwink as he regarded the slender, pale wolfwoman.

“This Wolfie was much stronger than she said,” Jarwink noted.

“No matter. No matter at all,” Sputnick declared. “She is ours now. Yes, she is, is, is.”

With that, they bent down and picked Kendra up. They took her to the door leading to the stairwell and started climbing down it, arguing again about who got to have fun with the wolfwoman.

“Wake up,” a voice said. It was low and quiet, like it was coming from a great distance. “Wake up. Kendra’s in trouble.”

Conor jerked awake, his body covered in cold, clammy sweat. He wiped it off his brow. He tried to focus on the room around him, but his mind was still heavy with sleep. He felt weird, too, like a thick cloud was blanketing his head, making it hard for him to get up.

He blinked rapidly, waiting for a weird bout of dizziness to fade. When his mind finally cleared, he looked around. There didn’t seem to be anything off at first. Then he looked over at Kendra and icy fear filled him.

Her side of the bed was empty.

“Kendra?” he called out.

He got out of bed fast, throwing his clothes on in a rush. He grabbed his shirt off the bed, and something clattered to the ground, falling from underneath his pillow. He bent down and looked at the object, his fear rising to new levels. It was a rune. It looked like a coin, but it was made of clay and had a strange, twisty letter on it. It didn’t take him long to realize what the letter meant.

Sleep.

His head jerked up as his nostrils flared. The scent of garbage and sewage came to him.

“Goblins,” he snarled.

He ran to the phone and dialed Eli Bishop’s private number.

Kendra drifted in and out of consciousness for several minutes before she finally came all the way awake. She heard low, muttering voices and her hope that she’d dreamed the creepy little creatures imploded on itself. She recognized them without trouble.

She looked around, trying to get a sense of her surroundings. She was in a small room. The walls were damp and had spots with mold growing on them. A single, overhead light dangled from the ceiling, but it was weak and left most of the place in dark shadows. There was a dank, musty odor to the air that mingled disgustingly with the creatures’ garbage and sewer scent.

“Wolfie there is the right one,” Jarwink was saying. “Wolfie there is definitely the one she wants.”

Kendra let out a huff of breath and went about trying to escape the ropes binding her hands and feet.

“What if she’s not?” Sputnick whimpered. He sounded like a scared dog. “If we got the wrong Wolfie, she will hurt us. She will hurt us bad. Bad, bad, bad.”

Kendra tried to focus on them, but her head was still messed up. She felt waves of fatigue mixed with a deepening nausea. Her throat was dry, and her mouth tasted like rotting meat. She needed to shrug off the effects of the…magic, she guessed…the creeps used on her. If she couldn’t do it quickly enough, she knew she was going to be in a world of trouble. She was pretty sure they weren’t out to kill her, at least not outright, or else they wouldn’t have bothered with kidnapping her.

No, she thought. They have something else in mind for me.

She shuddered at that very unappealing thought.

And who is this she they keep talking about?

She was fairly certain she didn’t want to find out.

“Will she come?” Sputnick asked. “She will, won’t she? We did good. Good, good, good.”

Jarwink didn’t answer him. He stopped talking, his deformed ears cocking in Kendra’s direction. She stopped struggling to get out of the ropes and sat as quietly as she could, her eyes closed and her breathing even.

“Wolfie,” Jarwink said in a singsong voice. “I know you’re awake.”

She opened her eyes and glared at the two malformed monsters.

“What do you want with me?” she barked.

Sputnick flinched at the sound of her voice, which made her feel very satisfied.

“Who are you little creeps working for?” she asked again.

“She will not be happy if we told you that,” Jarwink replied.

“She is not going to be happy when I find her and rip her throat out,” Kendra shot back, trying to keep them talking long enough to saw her way out of the ropes with her claws.

“Wolfie,” Jarwink said, mockingly. “You’re even stupider than I thought if you think you can even get near her.”

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Sputnick laughed.

“I am going to kill you both,” she replied, viciously.

Jarwink came closer to her, his jagged, pointed teeth flashing. She turned her head at the disgusting sight, but he reached out with his dirty hand and yanked her head back around to look at him.

“Be happy that she doesn’t want you dead,” Jarwink told her. “But maybe, after we’re done with you, you might prefer it.”

Jarwink bounced back as Kendra’s jaws snapped closed on the spot where the creep’s nose had been a second before.

“You will be fun to break,” Jarwink told her, laughing. Then he turned to Sputnick. “Bring her in.”

Dread and fear worked inside Kendra, making it hard for her to focus. The smug way Jarwink was acting told her that the next few minutes were not going to be pleasant. She worked harder on the ropes with her claws, but the escape effort was going torturously slow. The ropes were thick, and she couldn’t get enough leverage to do it very effectively.

“This is going to be so much fun, Wolfie,” Jarwink said, clapping his hands together. “Just wait and see. For centuries now, your kind has been hunting mine. You wolfies think you’re better than us. Better! But you’re not. You’re all monsters, just…like…me.” He smiled his jagged, toothy grin at her again. His red eyes gleamed with manic happiness. “I am going to prove it. Yes I am!”

The door that Sputnick went through suddenly opened again. Kendra’s fear exploded anew as she thought about being confronted with her mystery enemy.

What Sputnick brought in, however, was much worse.

It was a girl, no more than fourteen at most. Her face was red and puffy from hours of crying. Her sweaty brown hair was plastered to her skull and she looked around with wide, frightened eyes. She cried out and bucked against Sputnick, but the little creep was too strong for her. She couldn’t get away, no matter how hard she tried.

“What are you doing to that girl?” Kendra shouted, pushing with all her strength against the ropes. The tendons in her neck were stretched taut and her eyes glowed with amber fire. The alpha mark on her palm burned and itched. She reached for that power now, hoping to use it against the little creeps and get the girl out safely, but the second she tried to reach for it, her concentration splintered, and she felt it flow out of her grasp.

Her eyes flashed to Jarwink.

“What did you do to me?” She struggled against her ropes, but it did her no good.

“Trying to tap into your power, eh?” Jarwink replied.

“Won’t work, Wolfie. Not with the wards we put around you. Now you be a good doggy and sit. We have a treat for you.”

“Yes, we do! We do!” Sputnick chimed in, laughing as he dragged the girl over.

The full realization of their plan finally hit home. The outright terror she felt was like an invisible wound that sapped all her strength. Her body suddenly felt weak.

“Don’t,” she tried to say, but it came out as a whisper. “Don’t do this.”

“It’s already happening!” Jarwink replied. “I told you that we’re going to show you that werewolves are monsters too. What did you think I meant? Silly, Wolfie.” He talked to her as if she were a child now. “Don’t worry, though. As soon as it’s over, you won’t care about anything anymore.” He paused for a moment, as if considering something. “Well, except hunting and killing more humans. And more. And more. And more.”

“More, more, more,” Sputnick echoed.

The girl cried out again and her harsh sobs were loud inside the small room. They filled Kendra’s entire world until it was just her and those cries. They were desperate wails of fear, terror, and pain. Kendra wanted to help her, but she couldn’t. She was too weak. Her claws were even returning to normal now and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She felt hope dwindle and die inside her. They were going to make her kill that girl and ignite her blood hunger at the same time. A shiver of revulsion slithered over her entire body and cold sweat popped up on her brow.

“P-please…,” the girl said, her voice hoarse. “Help me.”

Tears flowed down Kendra’s face as she saw the girl’s pleading eyes. Sputnick yanked her closer to Kendra. He grabbed her chin and jerked her head roughly to the side, exposing her slender neck. Then he took a knife into his free hand and slid it slowly across her skin. A shallow cut opened up that spilled blood in a line. A few seconds later her neck was covered in the stuff. The little girl cried harder and struggled like a cornered animal but Sputnick’s hand gripped her jaw and chin harder, his grimy fingers dimpling her skin.

“Stop, stop, stop, girlie,” Sputnick hissed. “Hold still!”

“Stop it!” Kendra yelled. “Quit hurting her!”

“We’re not the ones that are going to hurt her,” Jarwink told her. “You are.”

Kendra watched the disgusting creature walk over to the girl. He dragged one of his fingers through her blood and brought it to his nose. He inhaled deeply.

“Smells good,” he said. He turned to her and smiled crookedly. “You’ll think so too in a moment.”

He took a few steps closer and hovered over her. The shadows the overhead light cast made his face look more sinister and gruesome. His blood drenched finger came closer and closer to her.

She could smell the blood, even though she didn’t want to. It was a disgusting scent and it churned her stomach sickeningly.

At least, that was her initial reaction.

There was something darker lurking just beneath the surface of her mind. That part liked the smell. That part wanted to inhale it deeply and breathe every particle of it into her body. It wanted to revel and lose itself in the intoxicating aroma. And worse yet, it wanted to not only taste it, but devour it.

She shuddered visibly, forcing the increasingly overwhelming sensations away.

“Stay away from me,” she said as menacingly as she could.

Jarwink, however, didn’t seem impressed. With her powerless and tied to the chair, there was little she could do stop to him. His dirty finger was almost to her lips.

“Open wide,” he snarled.

Kendra clamped her mouth shut, refusing to budge.

Jarwink’s anger surged forward and the hand without the blood on it lashed out. His fingers clamped onto the sides of her face and dug in painfully, but she still wouldn’t give in. The girl’s screams and cries gave her added strength. If she failed and Jarwink accomplished his goal, then the girl was as good as dead.

She held out for as long as she could. Her mouth didn’t pop open until she could physically hear her jaw cracking and breaking. The pain was more intense than she could’ve imagined.

She cried out and, in that moment, she knew everything was lost.

Jarwink let out a happy shout.

Then out of nowhere, a blinding, brilliant light lit up the entire room. It was pure white, and Kendra reflexively shut her eyes against it, although the light was so bright it only offered her minimal protection. Her pain, however, was nothing compared to Jarwink and Sputnick. She could hear them both howling as if someone were clawing their eyes out with a dull spoon.

Sounds came to her next. The girl’s cries suddenly ceased, and Kendra could no longer smell her blood. Her best guess was that whoever blasted the room with light had gotten the girl out first. She struggled against her ropes again, but she still couldn’t break free. A sudden noise caught her attention, even over the commotion that Jarwink and Sputnick were still making.

They were footsteps.

They were coming toward her and she had to work hard to beat down her fear. Whoever was there probably wasn’t out to kill her, she hoped. The fact that they took the girl out first told her they were most likely there to help, not hurt. Unless they killed her once they got outside the room. That thought sent another wash of fear through her. The footsteps stopped right next to her. Kendra couldn’t help but hold her breath, her heart racing with anticipation. The light hadn’t gone away yet, so her eyes were still shut. She couldn’t see who was there.

Please be Conor, she told herself. Or Jenna. Or Felix.

She breathed in and realized that her rescuer’s scent belonged to no one she knew.

“Hello?” she tried.

She heard footsteps again, this time heading in the direction of the two wailing creatures. Kendra was pretty sure neither one had any clue there was someone else int he room with them now. Whatever pain they were experiencing was consuming them. It was almost pitiful, really. They were crying miserably now. They were big, harsh sobs that sounded like the cries of a baby.

“Who’s there?” Kendra whispered. “Who are you?”

Whoever the person was, they never said a word. Instead, there were sounds of a struggle. The mystery man (Kendra was 90% sure that it was a man) grappled with one of the creeps. A high-pitched scream filled the air. Then came ripping sounds. There was a thunk, like the sound of something meaty hitting the floor. The sounds repeated themselves with the remaining creep. She wasn’t sure if it was Jarwink or Sputnick and didn’t care either way. When there was only silence again, Kendra knew one thing for certain. Jarwink and Sputnick were dead.

There was a weird popping sound and the light suddenly went out.

Kendra tentatively opened her eyes, expecting to see her rescuer. Instead, the room was empty. The only thing left in it were the headless corpses of Jarwink and Sputnick. From the jagged, torn skin and tissue of where their heads separated, Kendra figured her rescuer had simply ripped them right off their bodies. There was no sign of who did it and no sign of the girl either.

“Thank you,” Kendra said, mostly to herself. “You could’ve at least cut the ropes.”

Her voice echoed back to her as she sat there. Alone. In the dark.

“Ok. Now what?”

She didn’t know. She sat there for a second or two, trying to come up with a plan. After a few minutes, she decided to try tapping into her alpha power again. She figured with Jarwink dead; the wards he’d placed might be gone too. She took a deep breath and focused. She found the well of power inside her easily enough. It was so big, it felt like a vast ocean. When she immersed herself in it completely, she let it take control.

Her body humped and bulged. Fur sprouted along her arms, torso, and legs. Her face lengthened and formed a muzzle full of giant, ripping teeth. Her feet expanded to five times their normal size and deadly claws sprouted out of their tips.

With a roar, she snapped the ropes holding her to the chair and got up. She saw the world in beautiful hues of amber gold. She sniffed, taking in the scents. She smelled blood, human and from Jarwink and Sputnick. She smelled the faint aroma of her mystery rescuer, but when she tried to follow it, it abruptly vanished near the fall wall.

She let the power of the alpha state dwindle away until she was human again. She shivered from the cold and wrapped her arms around her naked body for warmth.

“Great,” she told no one. “Now I get to walk home butt naked. Could this day get any worse?”

As if on cue, the door to the room was smashed open and Conor came running in.

Followed by Jenna.

And then Felix.

Conor’s face flushed red while Jenna tried to hide a smirk.

Felix gaped at her, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“I don’t suppose someone brought clothes?” she asked.

They ended up having to wait in that filthy room for twenty minutes while Felix did his magical teleport trick to the nearest clothing store so he could grab her some stuff for Kendra to wear. They weren’t even close to fitting right and were embarrassingly mismatched.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, exasperated. “I’m not exactly a fashion guru or anything. Besides, it’s the thought that counts right?”

Kendra looked at her bright pink, chevron patterned top against her green and red plaid pants. She eyed Felix coldly.

“Really?” she said. “I think even you would know these don’t match.”

Felix mumbled something about ingratitude while they made their way back to street level. Then they walked a block and a half to a local coffee shop that opened early, found a booth, and sat down.

“What did they want with you?” Conor asked after everyone got settled.

Kendra gazed out the window, her thoughts distracting her. She was thinking about the night’s events. She wondered who was after her and why they wanted her to give in to her blood hunger. She wondered who her mystery rescuer was. Lastly, she wondered if the girl was okay.

It took her a few seconds to realize that Conor even said something.

“What?” she asked.

“What did they want with you?” he asked again.

“They wanted me to kill a girl,” she said.

“What? Why?” Jenna asked, shocked.

“They wanted me to give in to the blood hunger. They wanted to make me a monster. They said she told them to,” Kendra explained.

“Who’s she?” Jenna asked.

“I don’t know,” Kendra responded. Now that the danger was over, she felt very, very tired. Insanely hungry (which was a side effect of regenerating injuries like cracked jaws), but exhausted.

“A shadow enemy might not be our biggest threat,” Conor said.

“That seems pretty threatening to me,” Felix replied.

“He’s talking about my rescuer,” Kendra told him.

“Someone comes in and saves the day and you guys label him a threat?” Felix asked. “I think you both need to look up the meaning of the word grateful.”

“Someone we don’t know, who went out of his way to hide who he is from Kendra, went down there and took care of two goblins by himself,” Jenna explained. “He used some kind of light grenade and then ripped their heads off their bodies with his bare hands. What does that tell you Felix? And take your time. Make sure you really understand.”

Felix scowled at her but thought it over. His eyes widened when he realized why the other three were so worried.

“Exactly.” Jenna patted him on the back.

“He used light as a weapon against goblins. He knew their biggest weakness. He also knew enough to incapacitate them quickly before they could use their magic against him. What does that tell you?” Conor asked.

“That he’s a hunter,” Kendra said, looking at each in turn.

“And whoever he is, he’s not Defaeco, mage, or part of my pack. I’m pretty sure he’s not even human.”

“Which makes me wonder,” Conor said. Everyone looked at him. “Why is there a new hunter in town and what does he want?”