Chapter Seven
Tanner tried to focus. What was happening? He watched the vampire spin in reaction to the angel’s attack, then shriek in rage when the angel delivered a blow with a branch that would have flattened any normal human.
Wow, that angel is a badass, he thought, his mind groggy. Wait, that angel is Romy.
And she was fighting a vampire alone.
He winced as he turned over, looking around the woods for something, anything. What he needed was a wooden stake.
The sudden fog had cleared a bit. He saw broken branches scattered on the forest floor. He reached out to grab one, and missed. His vision was messed up. He crawled forward, tried again.
This time, he gripped a branch. It was jagged, probably fallen during a storm.
Crawling toward the fight, he paused only when he was sure Romy held the vampire’s attention. The lurker probably thought Tanner was dead or dying, and therefore no more of a threat.
Did Romy notice him? He couldn’t tell. For one split second, she seemed to, but she just kept swinging that branch like she was auditioning for the part of Thor.
She hit the lurker about every other time—which was way more than a normal human should be able to.
Was the vamp injured? It had been in top form when it nearly killed him moments ago.
He rose to a crouch, keeping silent. Romy definitely noticed him then, and she instantly yelled in the vampire’s face, keeping its attention on her. Even the undead get riled up when they’re told they’re a pathetic, unfuckable scrub. Ouch.
Tanner inhaled, then lunged upward and plunged the sharp branch into the vamp’s back, aiming for where its heart would be. The pointy end almost shattered into a mass of splinters, but it held together long enough to puncture the creature’s flesh and touch the heart.
The results were satisfyingly final. The vampire, already acting like it was suffering from a migraine, now seized up, its eyes wide and staring, its hands curling into claws. Then it let out a long hiss as it swiftly dissolved into ash.
Romy stumbled back in shock. “What the fuck happened?”
Tanner stared down at the ashes, trying to figure it out.
That vampire was behaving like a drunk by the end of the fight.
And no matter what Romy’s batting average was, he knew that her hits couldn’t have affected the monster as much as they seemed to.
Vampires were too tough, too adaptive, especially just after they fed…
“Holy shit,” he muttered as the revelation came to him.
“What?” Romy asked, her grip tightening on the branch.
“Nothing bad,” he reassured her. “I think I just put it together. That lurker fed on me.”
“Yeah, I saw.” She shivered.
“I’m on those anticoagulants. I think something in my meds must have made my blood weird. It messed up the vampire’s system.”
“That’s why it was stumbling around like a meth addict?” Romy asked. “Damn. I knew it wasn’t my street fighting skills.”
“Hey, you were doing great.”
“How’d you find me?”
“The feathers. They’re white and stood out on the ground. As soon as the mist faded, anyway.”
“Oh, cool. I hope you’re the only one who followed…” Romy trailed off, then whispered, “Um, Tanner. Look.”
He looked to where Romy was pointing. Two figures stood there. Two very menacing figures, bigger than normal humans, shaggy, hulking, with blazing eyes and a lupine snout.
Werewolves.
Great timing, Tanner thought.
“Did you just kill that vampire?” one asked, its voice so guttural it was hard to tell what it said.
“Staked it, yeah,” Tanner said. He sat down, feeling woozy.
Even as he spoke, Romy moved in front of him holding the branch up in a threatening way. “Get away from us!” she barked out at the werewolves.
I think I’m in love, Tanner thought. “It’s okay, angel,” he said. “These two aren’t here to hurt us.”
“How do you know that?” she demanded, her voice high and tight.
“They’re werewolves. Who are generally on the side of good.”
Romy exhaled in a long huff, as if she had no words to deal with all the info coming her way. He understood the feeling.
“Werewolves?” she asked. “Seriously?”
“They’re always serious,” Tanner said.
One of the werewolves stepped up to Romy and firmly but politely grabbed the branch and lowered it down. “Please don’t hit us,” it said to Romy. “We’d hate to have to defend ourselves.”
The other werewolf moved to Tanner and crouched down, regarding him warily. “Did you get bit?”
“Yeah. Fortunately the very pretty woman here interrupted the lurker’s feeding, so I’ve got some blood left in me.”
“Not enough,” the werewolf said. It reached into a backpack and pulled out a brightly colored drink bottle. “Here. You need fluid and electrolytes.”
Tanner took it and drank it down. Meanwhile, the werewolves were shifting, becoming much more human in appearance.
“We’ve been hunting this group of lurkers all week,” one said. “Fucking eight of them. They set up shop earlier this month, picking off victims from the crowd, using the dark and the fear to cover their own attacks.”
“And impersonating the victims’ real friends to trap them? What assholes,” Romy said.
“That’s a fair description,” the first werewolf said.
Tanner asked, “How many left?”
“After you dusted this one, two. We think. Probably the two toughest ones.”
“That’s alarming,” Romy muttered. “It’s totally not fair that they can look like real people.”
“They can’t actually change how they look. It’s a sort of psychological trick they play on you. Wait. How’d you know the fake me wasn’t me?” Tanner asked, standing up very cautiously.
“The fake Tanner didn’t smell right,” said Romy.
Tanner blinked. “You know how I smell?”
“Your jacket. Hot cocoa,” she explained. “He wore the same jacket, but it didn’t smell at all.”
“Okay. Wow. I’m impressed. Slightly freaked out, but impressed.”
“You should be,” one wolfish-looking dude agreed. He gave Romy a considering look. “Lurkers never smell right, but most people are too overwhelmed to realize it. You have good instincts.”
“Thank you?” she replied. “But my main instinct now is to get the hell out of here.”
The other werewolf growled, “You can’t leave. Not with what you’ve seen.”
“Can leave, will leave,” Tanner said. “Both of us.”
“Too dangerous,” one werewolf hissed to the other.
Tanner shook his head. “You think you’re big news? I grew up on this stuff. Magic, lurkers, curses, witches… You should see my family reunions.”
One of the werewolves stalked closer, eyes narrow, nostrils flared. Its eyes flicked to Romy, as if there was a trick going on, then reached out and grabbed Tanner’s army coat. “Salem,” it read off the label on the front pocket.
“Heard the name?”
There was a terrifyingly long pause.
“Yes,” the one at the back said. “But what about her? She doesn’t share your blood.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Focus,” Romy muttered. “Please.”
“Right. She’s not a Salem, but she’s with me. She knows what to do. She’s a smart cookie.”
“And what will you do, smart cookie?” the near werewolf asked.
“I won’t do anything,” she said. “Won’t say a word, won’t post hashtag vampire werewolf, won’t even do a search in a private tab. Promise.”
“We both know how to keep a secret,” Tanner added. “But speaking of that, I’m going to make a call to my family, send some help down here.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“I just lost a pint because I didn’t realize this place was a trap. I want these fuckers exterminated. It’s a personal sort of thing.”
“Fine, then. But whoever you call should know that we’re already here.”
One of the werewolves, being more familiar with the park, escorted them to the exit. The whole theme park was weirdly quiet and almost empty. “Where is everyone?” Romy asked. “It’s not that late.”
“We called in a bomb threat,” the wolf said. “Didn’t want to give the lurkers any more victims.”
“Who bombs a haunted woods attraction?”
“Angry fundamentalists who hate Halloween for its pagan sin,” the wolf responded. “The cops came and cleared nearly everyone out, probably while you two were stuck in that dark maze. Anyway, there’s the exit gate. Happy Halloween.”