Ten minutes later, Dimitri heard a female scream somewhere behind the building where he had been looking out for an hour now, waiting and listening to the witches' lair discussion. He halted. A piercing scream echoed into the night. Putting it into high gear, he sped toward the sound. And he got there hardly a second too soon.
The feral had been stalking the two human males and their female companions. It looked young, tricked out in basic goth garb beneath a long black trench. But young or not, it was big and it was strong, fierce with hunger. One of the women was held in a death grip. The blood-lusting feral werewolf had already latched onto her throat while the witch stood by, shocked and frozen at the horrors of the events.
Dimitri pulled a dagger from a sheath on his hip and let it fly. The blade struck hard, embedding itself between the werewolf's shoulders. The weapon was specially crafted of silver and elven magical plan, the latter metal being extremely poisonous to the corrupted blood systems and organs of the ferals. With a single kiss of that lethal blade, a feral werewolf would begin cooking from the inside out at breakneck speed.
Except this one didn't.
It flung a savage look at Dimitri, its eyes glowing amber, its fangs bloody as it hissed a vicious warning. Claws lengthening. But the feral was able to fight off the dagger's attack, holding on to its prey and swinging its head around to drink even faster.
What the hell happened?
Dimitri dashed up to the feeding feral, another blade in his palm. He didn't waste any time this time, heading for the neck and expecting to chop it clear through. The sword sank into the skin, slashing deep. But the savage swerved away from Dimitri's strike before Dimitri could kill it off. It dropped the female and focused all of its rages on Dimitri with a piercing growl.
Dimitri's double dose of silver dagger didn't dissolve the feral as it should have. It wasn't a rogue, even though it had been hunting and feasting like one. It was a new powerful hybrid of werewolf.
Dimitri gazed into the changed visage, its protruding teeth and elliptical pupils swirling in fiery irises. The stink of foul-smelling pink spittle plastered around the werewolf's mouth turned Dimitri's stomach. "The fuck!? A demon werewolf? Scent undetected?" He grumbled under his breath.
He pulled away, offended, assuming the feral was around the same age as the three people in the auction house. The savage reached back and pulled Dimitri's dagger from its shoulder, ignoring the bleeding wound in its neck. It hissed, nostrils flaring as though it were about to spring.
But then it ran.
The feral ran away at a breakneck pace, the hem of its trench coat flying behind it like a sail as it zigzagged deeper into the metropolis. Dimitri didn't stop prowling for a second. He followed it down the street after street, past alleyways and neighborhoods, and further out, into the dockyards outside Dublin proper, where derelict factories and ancient industrial grasslands stood like grim sentinels along the riverfront. The deep throb of music blasted from one of the buildings, the powerful bass and sporadic flashes of strobe lights no doubt from a nearby feral's den.
A few hundred feet ahead of him, the demon werewolf was speeding down a wharf toward a decrepit boathouse. "It's a dead end." He grinned. The demon werewolf turned around and went on the offensive, roaring up on Dimitri like a crazy soul, spitting fury through its open fangs. And, understandably, Dimitri was taken aback. These were feral werewolves who, when enchanted, smelled and looked like humans but with demon powers. "What the fuck are you?"
It hissed.
OK, it still had a little humanity left... Or it was just smart. He needed to kill this beast before anyone else.
As fresh blood saturated the front of their garments from the vicious assault on the human female, Dimitri chuckled at the thought of the three pretend humans who infiltrated the witch's coven as slave donors. He thought those three were demon werewolves and this one was their friend, lost and hungry.
The feral morphed into a wolf and snarled and clawed at him, its enormous teeth dripping saliva and the wide maw pouring more of the foul-smelling pinkish froth. Its amber eyes blazed with venom.
Dimitri felt the change come over him as well, the battle rage coursing through him, transforming him into a creature not so different from the one he fought. With a snarl, he threw the beast down onto the wood planks of the dock. One knee planted in the barrel chest of his opponent, Dimitri drew his silver blades. The arced weapons gleamed in the moonlight, lethally beautiful. Even if the silver turned out to be useless, there were other ways to kill a demon, feral werewolf or not. He brought the blades down, first one, then the other, slashing deep into the fleshy throat of the crazed rogue and cleanly severing its head.
*****
North of Dublin
Dimitri's vacation house
Blanca awoke the next evening, decidedly grumpy and completely alone in his room. Although all the bedrooms possessed tinted windows and shutters heavy enough to protect a half-vampire, half-werewolf from the sun, she knew it was silly because even Dimitri could walk in the sun without a problem. However, Blanca felt more comfortable among the dark tunnels that ran beneath the vast estate.
And, of course, it was the only certain means of guaranteeing that she wouldn't give in to temptation and return to the bed of his aggravating guest.
How was a mere human supposed to understand such a strange creature? He brooded as she soaked in Dimitri's large tub, and then spent nearly a half-hour braiding her wet hair. Thinking about what happened to them five years ago. They had shared the most intimate of embraces. She had screamed in fulfillment as he had taken her. They had been united as one. Bound as one and thinking about how Dimitri hadn't told her about it, she just hoped she had remembered it.
It had been glorious.
Astonishingly wonderful.
Even as a mere confused human, she had realized just how rare their union had been. As a woman, she should have been utterly enthralled.
Instead, he muttered something about forgetting everything about what happened and refusing to even accept a portion of her considerable surprise. What a jerk! She thought to herself.
Earlier, when she ran so fast that everything went blurry, she was still sulking when she asked him about how vampires live, and he just ignored her. Unfortunately, his mood was not at all improved by the many inquiries. Not that Blanca particularly cared. Given the opportunity, she would be upstairs doing her sweet research. But she had a feeling that Dimitri wouldn't be pleased with her asking too many questions.
But four hours later, at dinner time, Dimitri arrived from his venture to investigate the witch who was responsible for the mansion's magic fire. To say that the man left her hanging was an understatement. How could he leave her without explanation? One minute she didn't even believe in supernatural beings, and now everything was spiraling into a mess, yet he appeared all exhausted and bloody, also he hadn't told her anything yet but thankfully during dinner, he went to explain everything over their meal.
About the witches, the ferals, and the rogue demon werewolf, and what happened earlier on his secret mission.
But she knew he wasn't telling her everything, and she was willing to wait. She doesn't have a choice either.
Looking at the dinner, Blanca smiled. She loved the colors of their dinner, the bright reds, oranges, and greens. It was fresh and smelled good. It was humble. It was homely. It was the stuff incredible memories were made of, the kind that keeps her warm within for a lifetime, but with this dickhead's never-ending lesson of sword strategies, she wished to close his mouth shut with hers. 'How could he talk about it over dinner? Such insolence! He was indeed weird. A fuckin' weirdo. 'I guess he is doing this on purpose to kill me from boredom.'
"Blanca, I need to train you. Patterning your movements with your sword is great, and part of the process, but it takes a long time and a lot of adjustments to get the movements down. So you should remember to always read your opponent's actions." Dimitri warned.
What on earth was he talking about?
She had listened to every syllable of Dimitri's words. Nonetheless, it conveys boredom. Horror! It was like watching a little kid counting his toys a bloody million times and still getting it wrong in the first two digits. Blahs! This was boredom, which was easy and flowed without a tick or a tock, however, she looked into its far horizon all the same for any sign of positive change.
None came.
For the love of God, she was more disappointed than she had ever been. Not that she was complaining, but... it bore her to death! She felt like killing him instead. He couldn't just look at her like he wanted to devour her and then ignore her afterward. Argh! It was so unfair! She thought to herself.
The man was so frustrating. Blanca, on the other hand, knew that her boredom was an invitation for her brain to play a trick on her, to let herself soak for a moment and appreciate the richness in the momentary subtlety life has to offer. So she let it in, allowing her feelings and thoughts to float aimlessly until they eventually find new ways to run down, rather than the same old worries that can play over and over each day. That's when ideas come... and that's when boredom ends. She hopes.
"Are you even listening to me? You need to remember your training because your life may depend on it, and please stop thinking. I can read your mind, remember?" Dimitri turned to look straight into her eyes but tried his best not to look into her moist lips, as he flinched when she moistened her lips with her pink tongue.