Chapter 45
FORTY-FIVE
DIMITRI
A single howl devastates the property. It’s loud. Violent. And worst of all, I don’t recognize it.
“Was that the signal?” Alexey asks, glancing up from his computer. We set the charges on the western fence undetected, at least, we would’ve had some company by now if they had seen us.
“Nyet,” I say, carefully feeding an arrow to the bolt. “That wasn’t Nikolai.”
I know him. Every full moon, I heard his howls from the safety of my cottage, clutching onto what small amount of silver I could get my hands on.
Even the night his father took my sister away from me, he howled, only that time seemed to be in mourning.
My oldest friend. My brother. I’d know if it were him.
The sounds we hear now are different, though. A chorus of frightened cries overwhelming miles of Vostik pack territory. It’s not one wolf, anymore. It’s all of them. And judging from the noises coming from inside the perimeter, this will be a longer night than any of us expected.
Alexey types with the precision of a pianist, adding keyboard clicks to the background. Then, the typing stops abruptly. “Big man … you need to see this.”
On his screen is a top-down video feed of a wolf bound in place by a bear trap, struggling to free itself.
And somehow being trapped by metal teeth below the femur isn’t what has Alexey’s complexion losing a shade.
I lean in for a closer look, and that’s when I see it.
The wolf isn’t alone. There’s a captive—a human in frame, and instead of running away from the monster, the human runs toward it.
He dashes forward with unnatural speed, raising his arms as if to attack.
Then, a gasp rips out of us both when he does.
Each strike is brutal. Merciless. Slashing his bare hands at the areas not protected by armor.
Blood spits in every direction, highlighting the dirt a bright red.
“How?” Alexey says, his voice filled with confusion and dread.
The captive slips the wolf’s defensive bites and strikes again, this time carving fleshy lines at the neck and snout.
I watch in awe, arms no longer strong enough to shoulder my crossbow.
It doesn’t make sense. How can someone Alexey’s size not only stand against such a beast, but best it. “Humans don’t move like that.”
“Is that thing strong enough to …” Alexey trails off as we continue to watch the screen in horror.
A hand at the wolf’s upper and lower jowls, the creature begins to stretch each side, prying them apart with incredible force.
The wolf howls at a louder scale now in what I can only imagine is pure agony.
With one final tug, this captive rips the top half of its head clean off, spurting more blood than I’ve ever seen from the cavity of the disconnected lower jaw.
Then, the werewolf’s body flops down to the dirt.
Alexey brings his hand to his mouth and says, “Christ,” between his fingers.
Christ has nothing to do with what is happening on that property.
I’ve never known anything powerful enough to do that to a werewolf.
But these things are human, at least, they look no different from the average person from our vantage point.
What could possibly kill a werewolf this easy during a blood moon?
“They’re being overrun,” Alexey says, cycling through different angles of the property, each feed showing another wolf falling. “What—what do we do?”
I don’t respond. I can’t. There’s no way I’d believe it unless I was watching it with my own eyes.
It isn’t just a brutal attack. This is a massacre.
Clément’s numbers are dwindling fast, and despite the drone camera detailing everything inside the fence, there are still no signs of Nikolai and Ms. Nat.
Who knows if she’s transformed by now, and without the ability to control it, she could unknowingly stumble into the same fate. I can’t let that happen. I won’t.
“Get to the truck,” I say sternly, gathering what little supplies I can carry.
Alexey shuts his laptop and stands, brows knitting. “What about the plan? Nikolai didn’t want us inside the perimeter.”
I yank open the passenger door. “Fuck the plan. I won’t sit here and watch them die. I go.”
A wide sadistic grin forms on Alexey’s face.
“Finally. Are you keeping kill count this time or should I?” He rushes to the driver’s seat and twists the key until the engine roars to life.
We race through the backroads, veering around the wilderness at top speeds.
It’s surprising how easy Alexey maneuvers the woods surrounding the property, but I’d never give him the satisfaction of admitting it out right.
“Any idea what those things are?” he asks while banking another turn, tilting the everything in the truck to one side.
“Yes.”
He turns to me with a puzzled expression, mouth opening and closing a few times until he finally settles on, “And?”
I shake my head, trying to ignore every whisper I ever heard growing up. The secrets spread not only in the Vostik estate, but the Duval castle the past week. “They can’t be real,” I relent.
Alexey floors the gas pedal, spiking the trucks RPM gauge. “Those things are ripping apart the wolves like a litter of puppies. Clearly, I need to know what the fuck we’re dealing with.”
I clench my fists and each knuckle blanches. “You don’t understand. If those things are real, that means there is something out there worse than werewolves.”
“Make me understand. Worse how?”
“Werewolves are only monsters when the moon is full,” I say through gritted teeth and draw in a breath. “Don’t you get that? The rest of the time they are human. If I’m right, those things out don’t stop being monsters.”
He says nothing and waits for me to continue.
“Soulless, some call them. There are myths of entire villages disappearing overnight, but there was never proof those things existed. Clément insisted on uniting to fight a common enemy when he brought his claims to a meeting of the packs. Vlad Vostik dismissed their existence, and Nikolai—desperate for father’s approval—did the same.
That didn’t stop him from telling me about it, though.
We thought it was a joke. Why would we believe the alpha that something out there was stronger than werewolves and even harder to kill? No one believed him.”
“Stronger than werewolves?” he scoffs with laughter. “You’re joking, right?”
I shake my head. “We laughed the same way you are now. You asked me if I know what they are. Yes, I think I do. Yes, the wolves are in danger. And yes, you should be fucking terrified.”
I close my eyes and pray to god I’m wrong. That the things I saw tearing through Clément’s pack were nothing more than wolves waiting to transform. But I know deep down the rumors are true, and somehow, there’s a small army of them inside that fucking fence line.
“Others know them by a different name,” I say when his face draws serious. “Vampires.”