NationStates Jolt Archive

Life deep in the Unified Realms of Tarlachia, amidst the weathered architecture of Raxhun civilization, was the same as always. The architecture wasn’t grand like the elves to the east, nor was it shabby like the Dramen to the northwest. The walls were made of strong thick wood, or of stone quarried from the base of the mountains miles away. Typically, only those with rank owned homes of stone. The rest were forced to gather the wood for their homes from nearby woods.

The life of a Raxhun was not like that of modern humans. They lived deliberately in a slight backwards society, shunning some technologies in favor of keeping their well-known traits and habits sharp. They were directly descended from nomadic tribes that often spread fear with their stealth and quick strikes in the ancient world. They made excellent hunters and trackers, their skills in combat useful for those that joined the Tarlachian Armed Forces, and their cunning amongst the best in Fatal Terrain. They earned their respect through the school of hard knocks, and they always kept a cold aura around themselves, and their kin.

Lorcan Tansho, by birthright a Raxhun, was an unknown in Raxhun society. He held no hard-earned honor, he hadn’t performed amazing feats, and his skills were not as sharp as his peers. To compensate, he turned to immerse himself into outside society, particularly the other humans of Tarlachia. It was here he learned the workings of modern business, and particularly the desires of those cooped up in skyscrapers, attending countless meetings in squares and restaurants, and wearing suits more expensive than some of their hovercraft.

Picking up a newspaper from a newsstand, he strode toward Broody Tower located in downtown Romia City. It was a city that mimicked Rome’s own splendor, and equally corruptible. Pushing past the spinning doors, he moved silently to the elevator. As he waited for the elevator to come down, he glanced at another man whom had come to stand nearby, waiting for the same elevator. Compared to that man dressed in a fine business suit, Lorcan was the opposite. He wore broken in clothing that had seen many changes in the weather. He preferred the leather and cloths of his people to the ‘useless’ clothes of the men of the outside world.

The ding of the elevator doors opening brought his attention back and he entered silently, the newspaper in his left hand. The other man entered and stood to his right. That man identified by the nametag as “Joshua” muttered something under his breath as he took his place. The doors closed, and Lorcan was upon the man, his one hand pinning the man to the wall. The other hand slipped behind Lorcan’s back. “What was that?” he growled.

The man squirmed, and then froze as he felt the knife pressing into his throat. He spoke lowly, “I said…you’re a respectable young man.” The knife drew blood. “All right! Ease up!” The man’s face scowled, “I’m sorry that you and your people are pathetic excuses of humankind.”

With a violent twist, Lorcan threw the man into the opposite wall, stepping in and delivering violent kicks to the man’s face and torso. The elevator dinged twice, announcing it had arrived at Lorcan’s floor. He stepped backward out of the doors glaring down at the shaking and crying man on the floor of the elevator. He reached in and picked up the newspaper just before the doors closed. Turning, he composed himself and strode down the hallway to the lobby of his potential client. He spoke to the assistant sitting at her desk, “I’m here to see Mr. Broody. I have an appointment.”

She glanced down at her task-book and nodded. “Mr. Tansho, I presume?”

He nodded, maintaining a cold, emotionless face.

“Just a moment. Please take a seat.”

He did so, opening the newspaper to read the news that interested him most: the reports of strange activity in the natural woodlands and mountains of neighboring nation, The Golden Simatar.

“Mr. Tansho, you may go in now.” the assistant stated after about ten minutes.

He rose and entered the office, closing the door behind him. He turned and faced the man behind the desk. A box was turned, and a cigar offered. Lorcan declined.

“Mr. Tansho, so good of you to come. Let’s cut to the chase. I’m a big powerful fat cat here in the city, and you’re nothing more than a hard-life citizen that leads expedition tours for the perfect kill.”

“Yes…” Lorcan answered as he took a seat.

“So, I want you to take me on a hunt, a glorious expedition to kill me some wild lion, tiger or elephant. Whaddya say?”

Lorcan closed his eyes in silent exasperation. “Listen up here,” he rose to his feet, “this ain’t some game. People get killed thinking it’s nothing more than a day at the circus.”

He walked to the window that made up one side of the entire office. He glanced down at the hovercraft passing by, then up at the rising sun. It was near to ten in the morning. “Have you ever done this before? Nevermind about actually owning a hunting weapon, but please tell me you have some experience with them.”

Broody chuckled, “Of course. I’ve got my certifications and everything.”

A sudden movement resulted in a thumping noise in the desk right in front of Broody. A knife sat in between the man’s fingers. “Even something as simple as this?” Lorcan pressed. Broody looked down wide-eyed at the knife. He shook his head negatively, “No…I’m a businessman, Mr. Tansho, not a hunter.”

Lorcan shook his head in pity. “Shame. You might’ve had…” he trailed off. He looked at the newspaper left behind in his seat. He thought for a few moments. He picked it up, tapping it in his opposite hand for a few moments.

He tossed the newspaper onto the desk. “Open it. Front section, page twelve, and center article.”

Broody did as commanded. He read the article, then looked up.

Lorcan flashed him a sly grin, “You want a hunt?”

He extracted the knife and replaced it where it belonged. “You’ve got it.”

The Golden Simatar International Airport in the capital of Clarence was busy as usual. As Lorcan and Broody made their way through the terminal, a man wearing a blue business suit approached them.

“Mr. Tansho, I work for Mr. McClellan…follow me please.”

The pair followed the young man through the sea of bodies towards the five star restaurants and conference rooms at the back of the terminal. As they neared the glass door leading into the section, the doorman scowled at Lorcan, but not wishing to get fired by insulting someone, kept his tongue.

Zachary McClellan was in a small conference room studying the papers Lorcan had requested. Standing at 5’11, faded red hair covered his head. He was fifty-one years old and the current head of Lander Mining Consolidated, the first non-Lander to head the multi-billion dollar corporation in decades. McClellan was well built; he was not buffed out though there was visible muscle on him.

He remembered calling the Tarlachian earlier, requesting him as a guide on a hunt and when Lorcan had suggested his own nation, McClellan accepted. Though, he had some reservations about the other man Lorcan was bringing, he knew Lorcan had a good record, but the other man was unknown. McClellan was hunting since he was a little boy out with his father hunting deer and elk. He still hunted in his off hours and had only once gone hunting for big game and had netted a tiger. Now, he was looking forward to finding out what was roving the hills, valleys, and forests of his country that had scared some people away.

He looked up as the doors opened to the room and Lorcan and Broody walked in. McClellan stood and shook their hands.

“Welcome to Clarence. Please, sit. There are some drinks if you care for some…just watched out for Flint Firebrand, they don’t call it drinkable napalm for nothing. I do have the stuff you requested Mr. Tansho…it was rather easy, my father was obsessed by the reports.”

When Broody and Lorcan sat down, McClellan took a sip of water and reviewed some papers before briefing the two men of the creatures spotted in his country.

“For nearly sixty years reports of strange creatures and noises have been reported from the Glothlin Mountains in the west to the Barishu in the north…but most come from the forests outside of this city. Accounts vary on the size and behavior of the creatures…but what is known is this, that they are four legged and at least the size of a fully mature horse. Some accounts even state that one as big as two busses.

“Now, also in that time hikers have been finding at least once a month large pools of blood and bones…latter to be determined as human. People conflict on if these creatures have attacked hikers since most accounts state the animals just stare back at you and move along. There was one report of a family group in the forest outside this city about ten years ago, so it is possible these things are breeding. There have been several science expeditions, they have found only footprints…but I unfortunately do not have any photos. Thus far no one has found a carcass or brought one down with tranqs or bullets. I do have is this…twenty years ago a man set out with a recorder and a camera to hopefully capture one of these things…this is what he got.”

McClellan produced a tape recorder and hit the PLAY button. There was several seconds of static before a series of low grunts, bellows, and other strange noises. They continued on for nearly a full minute before they stopped. The Simatarian looked at the other two men before rewinding the tape.

“That was cross checked with every known creature in this nation…nothing comes close to matching. He played the tape over some loudspeakers the next night…all they found of his camp were destroyed equipment and blood. No body, nothing…but they did find his camera intact and processed the single image. The photograph has never gone public and is lost…but…but…I came across the negative. Don’t ask me how.”

McClellan handed the negative first to Lorcan, knowing he was the professional. The image was fuzzy to say the least, but what it did show as a furry creature moving apparently from four to two legs before the attack, large teeth set in its jaws, the last image the man ever saw.

“No tracks were ever found, no creature was ever found. This is the only report of such an attack and it is believed to be a cougar or wolf that was attracted by the noise and only found a man…easy prey. I bring this up strictly to state that there are predators out there who, if hungry enough will go after us. But, I do not think there is any need to worry. If we watch out for signs…we should be alright.”

McClellan sipped some water.

“So, before we get started…any questions I can answer?”

Lorcan handled the photograph with interest as he studied the image. He squinted his eyes, naturally eliminating some of the fuzzy edges. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the features.

“Cougars are not dark in color. The facial structure is different too. More…canine…and yet, something else…”

He looked up, “I can’t figure it out. I’ve never seen something like this. It’s so odd.”

Broody gave a grunt and muttered something under his breath as he adjusted his toupee. He then adjusted his coat upon his shoulders. Lorcan ignored him. Instead, he locked his eyes with McClellan. “Are there abnormal creatures running around here on a regular basis? Back home, there’s a wide variety of not-so-common creatures, some with quite high intelligences. Tell me, Mr. McClellan, do you believe in vampires?”

McClellan gave a noticeable shift, “Actually, yes. There was some incident or two some time back concerning vampires in this nation. Thankfully, our boys over in the government kept their sanity and since have prepared for such occurrences again.” He gestured to the photo in Lorcan’s hand. “Are you saying this is some vampire running over those hills?”

Lorcan shook his head negatively. “No, vampires don’t look like this. I would know. My cousin, Rikan Tansho, a hell of a fighter hunted them for years. I do believe she was contracted to this nation to help with that situation, now that I think of it.”

He paused and thought some more. McClellan gave a brief look to Broody. Broody returned the neutral gaze.

“Mr. McClellan, I’m going to ask you one more question. How you respond will be the determining factor as to whether or not I agree to take you on this expedition.”

He stepped closer, planting both hands on the man’s desk, “What kind of weapons do you have? I’m not talking snub nosed shit either.”

He glanced between the two men, “I’m talking heavy duty knockout shit. The kind of ammo that would be powerful enough to penetrate dragon scales.”

Broody gulped slightly, masking the movement with a hand loosening his collar. He asked with a slight fearful tone, “Are we hunting dragons, Mr. Tansho?”

Lorcan gave him a look, “No, but then again, I can’t guarantee it’s not a possibility.”

“Rikan Tansho.”

McClellan muttered the name; it failed to ring any bells. “Nothing comes up with me. But chances are good she might have helped train our police forces and military. Our government was able to work a few deals with your countrymen and Assingtonians for training. After a large conflict decades ago our armed forces scattered the vampire group and we have been hunting the remains ever since. She could be working for us…I don’t know.”

McClellan was quiet as Lorcan brought up the issue of dragons. If he had been born a century ago, he would have laughed at the Tarlachian. Dragons were currently under ‘we know they exist but in what capacity we don’t know’ category. The descriptions from the hikers made more sense if there were several dragon families in the Golden Simatar. The businessman smiled at Lorcan as he brought up what kind of weapons he had.

McClellan just smiled.


After some last discussions, the group took McClellan’s private helicopter over the city and deep into the forests. One they had landed, the trio began their trek into the forest. McClellan had armed himself with two powerful John Rigby rifles in .577NE and a .450 Martini-Henry. Along with his pack, water, weapons, he also carried a small camcorder to record an encounter with one of the mysterious creatures.

It was mid-afternoon and the group paused for a break. McClellan looked off in the distance. He pointed through the trees and the two Tarlachians followed his finger and they could see what appeared to be ruins.

“An ancient castle…I can’t tell exactly…”

McClellan was cut off as there was a string of strange animal noises occurring behind him. He listened quietly, it was the same noises from the recording he had. He slowly stood and turned, bushes and trees blocked his view and he led the group through a dense grove before reaching the edge of the grove and a small hill. McClellan held his breath.

Down in the trees below was an ice-blue scaled creature standing over the carcass of a dead bear. It was a little larger than half a Greyhound bus, its leathery wings were kept at its side, and the several long horns came from its head in a fashion that reminded McClellan of a Styracosaurus. A real live dragon was just a hundred feet away. It didn’t seem to see them as it continued to eat the bear.

McClellan slowly pulled out his camcorder and smiled. He looked over to see Broody trying to bring his rifle to bear; the Simatarian grabbed the barrel and shook his head angrily at Broody. McClellan went back to his camcorder and began to record the animal.

He whispered to Lorcan. “Can you tell what species of dragon it is?”

Lorcan pressed down lower as they arrived at the hilltop and gazed down upon the ancient creature of legend. He shifted his head from side to side, taking in momentary important details. He frowned slightly.

"We're downwind of it. It'll smell us in due time if we don't move."

With that, he slunk backwards until he was able to stand without fear of being spied. He looked back to see McClellan with him, his camcorder in hand. Broody, however, was a different story.

A hand clenched itself around the back of Broody's neck as Lorcan brought his mouth to the man's ear. "Have you ever had the pleasure of engaging in draconian dining?" He glanced quickly to the creature down below. It was still oblivious. "Trust me...you don't want to."

He released the neck and gestured backward with his head, "Now." Broody complied, but not before taking another longing glance at the creature. Once they were back with McClellan, Lorcan spoke again quietly, "I've seen them around before, but they're quite rare to find. Tarlachian by nationality. Ice is their element of power, and trust me, that one down there is a full grown one. That means, a single rifle or three is not going to bring it down. If you want to bring down one of them, you need at least a platoon of experienced hunters."

Broody interrupted, "Then round up what we need. I want that dragon!"

Lorcan gave him a hard look, "You're not going to find that around here. Therefore, we are not going to hunt that dragon," he stepped closer until he was face to face with the man, "Got it?"

Broody nodded dejectedly.

Turning to McClellan, Lorcan raised his arm and pointed in the direction of the ruins, "We're camping out there tonight."

McClellan kept his camera recording every second of the dragon’s movements. The creature had yet to notice them as it was engrossed by eating its kill. The hiker’s stories now made perfect sense about seeing a strange colored animal about the size of a bus or two. Even if they didn’t come back with an animal, he knew the footage he shot would be important. The hunter inside McClellan told him that it would make an amazing trophy to have in his house, but another part told him that if one was hunted, every would-be hunter would grab their gun and head off into the woods.

His thoughts were broken when Lorcan gave him the sign to fall back. McClellan gave one last look at the dragon before turning off recording and slipping back down the slope. He waited a few minutes before Lorcan came with Broody; it was obvious the other businessman was not happy with letting the dragon go. McClellan listened to Lorcan’s explanation of the dragon, he had heard of fire-breathing dragons, but ones who used ice?

“Something that puzzles me. Why would a few leave Tarlachia and come all the way here? I find it hard that a few would come here with their mates and start making families, thousands of miles from home. Unless there was a population explosion back in Tarlachia. Surely…”

There was a loud enough snort to force all three men to turn. They turned to see the dragon’s head sticking out of the leaves and bushes, the rest of its body obscured by the foliage, staring at them. It was only a few meters away and it stared at them and smelled them. The creature gave another snort before disappearing into the foliage. McClellan blinked and sighed in relief as the dragon disappeared.

As the group began to make their way to the old castle ruins, McClellan was still bothered by the death of the one reporter who was killed trying to attract a dragon to him.

“Mr. Tansho, what is the temperament of dragons towards humans? Are the aggressive, defensive, or do they just avoid us all together? Also, do you still have any idea of what that thing in the picture I showed you is? After seeing our friend back there it is defiantly not a dragon.”

"I have no idea why this dra-"

The rustling of leaves and the brief appearance of the dragon watching them startled them all into silence. Lorcan made a series of small hand gestures toward the dragon, to which it retreated out of sight.

Lorcan released his breath and sucked in another one slowly, "Good to know that old man was right about the signals." He looked to the other men, explaining, "I met an old man during one of my travels. For one of my items I had on my person, he was willing to teach me a peaceful way of dealing with dragons should one chance upon them."

They began their trek to the ruins in the distance.

Broody raised an eyebrow, "What'cha do to him?"

Lorcan was about to reply, then paused a moment. Sure...why not have a little fun with him?

He looked to Broody, "I told her that she could have you for dinner, later tonight. Typically, they wait till you're just about to fall asleep before they attack." Broody's aghast face was well worth the joke. Lorcan chose to not correct himself.

He picked his path carefully down a path, avoiding large rocks. As they walked, the wind swept over them in several powerful gusts. He turned his head momentarily and locked eyes with McClellan, "Temperments? Depends really. Some are nasty as hell, some are docile. Some are in between. Some are PMSing, some are just assholes."

He raised a hand up as if to silence them, yet he kept the pace. "However, this might surprise you. They are quite intelligent, but usually cannot speak the common tongue. If they speak anything other than their normal speech, it'll be in Drak. Drak was developed by the Dramen of the mountains near Snowy Peaks. Since then, it's become a pretty common language amongst them, and even is used by a few outsiders."

He picked up a stick lying in the path and used it to spin about lazily in his hand, "They're not great in dealing with for economical reasons, but excellent comrades in battle. Very loyal. Very strong, and very, very dangerous when berserk."

He thought about the picture, "Definitely not a dragon, whatever it is we're hunting out here. That much is for sure."

He fell silent as they got to the ruins. Looking to the west, he studied the sky. Sunset wasn't too far off. He instructed the two of them with a wave of his hand to take a break.

"We need to find a place to rest tonight. Someplace high, hard to reach."

He scanned the ruins, "An upper room with a single entrance will do, but I'm going to need to do a few things."

McClellan nodded, "When should we expect you back with us?"

"It'll be a little bit of time. Probably right after sunset. Whatever we're hunting, I don't want to be surprised by it."

With that, he set off down another small path until he was out of sight. He had a few things in his pack, and he had seen some things while entering the ruins that he knew he could utilize.

McClellan listened intently to Lorcan and being sure not to mix anything up, he had his camcorder recording audio so he would be sure not to forget anything. The Simatarian found it all rather exciting, dragons in his country. Things of fantasy now walking around the land. Though he was slightly taken aback by what Lorcan told Broody, he quickly caught on that the hunter was joking, but McClellan hid the fact, not wanting Broody to catch on till much later.

The creature in the picture was still very much in question, but as Lorcan headed back into the woods with his things McClellan led Broody into the ruins.

“Wonderful aren’t they?” He said, only receiving a grunt from Broody. He sighed as he looked around for the strongest and best structure to stay in. The stone structures were covered in dense vines and foliage and the wall encased an area of around an acre in size. McClellan finally found a semi-intact three story building which he guessed was probably the commander’s barracks and armory.


Night had just fallen and sitting in a single, stone room 10x10 with a camping propane stove making some coffee, McClellan looked out a small hole in the side of the room at the stars and full moon above. They had already eaten, talked a bit about business and stupid bureaucrats in each of their governments before falling silent. Lorcan had still not returned.

The Simatarian looked back at Broody on the other side of the room; he was obviously a bit depressed as Lorcan had stated they would not attack the dragon. McClellan looked down a very small and tight spiral staircase through the door and with no sign of life, turned to Broody.

“Don’t worry, there are at least around a half dozen reports a month. It all can’t be the same dragon. Cheer up, there could be another opportunity. Besides, the female we saw today looked a bit large…I dunno if it because I have never seen a dragon or if she was pregnant. Whatever the case…”

McClellan was hushed as a long, mournful howl was heard in the distance.

Settling the last pin into the last landmine nearest the ruined keep of old, Lorcan stepped back slowly so as to not cause an unintentional premature explosion. Rising to his feet, he scanned the area around.

He smiled.

Nothing would get through this rather elaborate minefield ranging from the simplistic wooden stakes buried in the ground to the handful of live bouncing bettys. Tripwire hung extremely low to the ground in various areas, and he had even managed to set up a submachine gun he had brought along in his pack as a sentry weapon. That gun was positioned near the main entrance, the only way in, despite the fact that the place was in ruins. It was triggered by tripwire, once again. In the clip, there were standard bullets, nothing special.

He turned and entered the doorway, and ascended the stairs until he emerged into the small room in which the other two sat. He immediately cast his eyes to the food still sitting in the open, and silently growled.

"Are you two stupid?"

He pointed to the food, "Get that shit cleaned up."

Lorcan moved to the small window and peered out, first at the sky for a quick weather update, then at the land below. It gave them a perfect view of the entrance, and its only downfall was that because of the size of the window, the last fifty feet were a blindspot for them. He wasn't too worried though, he had set up some serious packages for unwanted visitors.

"The land is set, and I've got some serious stuff out there, so I recommend you not take your personal business outside unless you wish to fly in ways you're not supposed to. The strongest traps and mines, I've set near the entrance below, but I don't intend to let our prey get that close."

He turned to the others, "I expect one of us to shoot it around the entrance."

He looked directly at Broody, "I hope you're both good shots."

The man tore through the woods as fast as his legs would carry him, his orange jumpsuit clung to his body tightly from the sweat and he shivered from the cold air. He stumbled and fell down a hillside, cutting his face on a thorn. He quickly got to his feet and kept running. The man stood 6’3; his muscles were well defined and visible, sweat beaded on his bald head where a swastika was tattooed. His face was no handsome, a crooked nose from being broken and set incorrectly as a child along with a scar across his face from a knife slash made the women run.

David Hillerman was wanted for nine known and possible link to another five homicides in the city of Pembrooke. He had grown up in the hardest parts of town, murder was his life, and by the age of sixteen he had killed for the first time, a young woman who was the girlfriend of another gang. David had simply been tasked with pulling a gun on her and shooting, but the old North Korean automatic had failed and the bitch pulled a knife on the broken nosed youth and attacked. Even at sixteen, he was able to break the knife from her hand and slit her throat.

Hillerman quickly became a hitman for anyone who wanted to front up the money. Though, he mostly did his work for various racist and radical groups like the Neo-Nazis. Though he held himself in high regard, his practices were brutal and left a mark on the city. When he was finally captured in Clarence, no one came to his aid as he was shoved aboard a helicopter and taken north. But, over the vast miles of forest, the chopper landed to give the man a chance to piss. A strange howl caused the crew to panic, one dropping the keys to the handcuffs and the helicopter left.

Un-cuffed, the killer moved free, though a small metal box chained to his ankle would impede him a bit, he didn’t pay much attention. It was probably a tracking device and he would have it removed later. It was then he faced his pursuer.

The killer kept running, his lungs burned and he tried to scream for anyone around to help him. He stopped and hid behind a tree and looked at his bloody left shoulder. The thing had torn with its teeth and left a still bleeding wound there. Hillerman watched as his blood oozed out and left a crimson trail down and onto the ground. Another howl caught his attention and the man didn’t turn and he kept running. Crashes of branches behind him told him that the thing was close, but holding. Tears welled up in his eyes, he was going to die and the creature was toying with him. His attempts to fight the animal hand to hand had failed; the thing overpowered him like he was a mere baby.

Hillerman tripped again and looked up, a soft glow was visible in the air, it took a few seconds for his mind to register it was a fire inside the ruins of some place. A person, he didn’t give a damn who but it seemed safer up there. The convict got up and kept running as he heard the thing closing. He bolted for the building and as he ran, he turned his head to see the shape pause and watch him, cold dead eyes shined back at him as a tongue ran over blood covered teeth, dinner was almost ready to submit. Hillerman never saw the tripwires.

He heard a pop and his world turned black in seconds, there was no slow motion like in Hollywood films. He was only able to register what looked like a large coffee can fly up in the air before exploding. The shrapnel contained in the mine tore into his flesh dozens of crimson eruptions happened all over his face and body, his left eyeball exploded and the entire right side of his head was torn away, hair fell into his empty skull as the brain was made into a melted, cheese substance and flowed out his skull as he fell to the ground. His body was a nothing more than a pile of mush and tattered clothes; it would take a trained doctor to separate the organs from one another. He never had the time to scream.

The creature took a little damage, mostly cuts, but nothing that wouldn’t heal quickly; Hillerman’s body had taken the brunt of the attack. It saw its meal was gone, but it ears picked up the sound of voices and its eyes picked up the shape of a man peering through the window for the briefest of seconds.

The animal growled to itself before moving back into the shadows, the hunt was still on.


McClellan had ducked back down and looked wide eyed at Lorcan and Broody, the darkness outside prevented him from seeing anything.

“Tansho…I am no fool, you brought land mines here? I hope you remembered where they are buried so you can dig them up in the morning. But…what are we to do now? Wait till dawn to see what you killed?”

"Shut the hell up!" Tansho hissed as he shoved McClellan aside and used the rifle equipped with a scope to peer toward the entrance. There was nothing there except a bloody field of flesh. A rustling just beyond the entrance there drew his attention, yet when he looked, he saw nothing. He returned slowly to the exploded site of one of the bettys and studied the area.

Suddenly, he froze the scope. "What the...it can't be..."

Broody, slightly wide-eyed, pressed for information, "What? what is it?"

Lorcan whispered, "Wolf tracks, about ten feet from the dead mine. But, even from here...they're...huge..."

Taking a few moments of silence to think over their situation, he turned to the other men. "Well, our friend out there isn't stupid, so it's going to remain in safety."

He glanced out the window again. Silence filled the air. Even the wind seemed to have ceased all its movements. "We need to get out into the open." He picked up his pack and rifle, and looked to the other two. "There's a small path, hardly distinguishable from the rest of the minefield, but it's safe, so long as you step where I step."

Without waiting for a reply, he went down the tight staircase and began to maneuver through the minefield, slinking along the wall, hopping a few times over unseen obstacles, until at last, he had led them past the no-mans-land and into the darkness of the field beyond. Overhead, the moon shone their path with its surreal brilliance.

McClellan checked his Rigby and quickly loaded it. It would be his primary weapon as it was multi-shot; the Henry would wait as it was single shot. When Lorcan was frozen at his scope, McClellan looked down his sights also. Oh my God.

“Wolf alright. Our wolves are bigger than the North American wolves…but that must be a freak. Something that large, a complete mishap by nature.”

He followed Lorcan out of their little base and gave one last look at it, wondering if it was the right thing to do. Rifle in hand, the man scanned the woods, as they passed the grisly remains of the unfortunate creature who wandered into the path of the mine. McClellan halted.

“Lorcan…halt.” He hissed. The Tarlachian came back.

“Keep moving your ass…” He growled.

McClellan held a piece of cloth at the end of his rifle. He took it in his hands and could see through the thick film of blood a bright orange and he gasped. “This is the uniform of a prisoner. How…”

There was a roar and the group kept moving. Fifteen minutes of moving through woods, another roar ahead of them caught their attention. Up ahead, bathed in full moonlight, crouched on a boulder was the creature (http://www.upcominghorrormovies.com/images/underworld36.jpg). It growled, its upper lip curled up in a menacing snarl. McClellan looked at it, this was no Simatarian wolf, and it didn’t resemble any wolf he had ever heard of. He heard Lorcan mumble something as he looked at it.

“What did you say?” Before Lorcan could respond, there was a scuffle behind them and the last thing they saw was Broody tearing off into the bush, away from the animal. McClellan turned and in a flash, the animal was after him. Lorcan and he fired after it, all rounds seemed to miss or have no effect.

Broody pounded through the forest, this is not what he had expected. A quick waltz through the woods, a few bullets, and he would return with a marvelous trophy to hang in his home or office and impress his friends. He heard the gunshots behind him and one zipped past his head, the animal was obviously after him. His mind worked as he thought of what it could be, but nothing came to mind.

Gasping for air, he began to struggle up a sharp hillside and turned around to find the animal bursting through the woods after him, a clawed hand reached for his leg, but the animal howled in pain and tumbled back down. The businessman stared and in the moonlight saw a box on its neck, much like a dog electronic collar. Simatarian perverts. What the fuck are they up to? The animal looked at him, it began to steady itself and it was obvious the pain was immense. Broody realized what it was going to do far too late to run.

The animal made the ten meter distance with a single leap and grasping Broody by the leg, dragged him back down as the pain racketed its body. Its mind told it to feed, feeding and killing were on its mind. All other emotions or desires were gone. Its meal tried to scramble back up the hill, back to where it was safe. The creature dug its teeth into the man’s leg and relished its food’s screams and thrashes as it dragged the man into the wood. It heard shouts and running feet, more of a threat, but also more food. The hunter moved faster than the two men and dragged Broody into a small ditch.

Broody tried to claw away, but it felt the animal’s claws dig into his side and the teeth clamp down on the back of his neck. He was going to die, the animal had moved faster than McClellan or Lorcan, they would not get to him in time. He struggled, as the animal held onto him, allowing him to tire himself out as it lapped at the blood coming from his neck. His screams continued to fill the air, and he heard McClellan and Lorcan shouting, they were coming but not moving fast enough. He began to grow weaker and his screams began to become quieter.

The creature knew it would be unable to feed safely here and still grasping its meal, it began to move deeper into the forests where it would enjoy its kill in peace.


McClellan was sweating, they had found Broody’s rifle and followed his cries for help and the path of which the animal had dragged him. By the time they reached the ditch, McClellan knew it was too late to save the man. He shone his flashlight down into it and stared at the leaves, upturned dirt intermingled with blood. He moved the light and it followed a smaller blood trail deeper into the woods.

McClellan looked at Lorcan. “What, in Gods name was it? It wasn't a Simatarian wolf…or creature I have ever seen.”

A hand clamped over McClellan's mouth and Lorcan shook his head, mouthing silently for him to shut up. His eyes darted about, as he listened. McClellan was breathing heavier than he should have been, an indication that his age was getting to him.

He gestured with his head back in the direction of the ruins. They had to get back, and fast. Out here, they were completely exposed. Back there, there were still some defenses, some traps in wait. The two hightailed it, giving no regard to the noise they created. In Lorcan's mind, they had a safety window of only a few minutes as the lycan was feeding upon its latest victim.

Once they had returned to the ruins and had barricaded themselves in the small room, Lorcan finally spoke again, his face ashen. Even his hands trembled slightly.

"We're not up against wolves. Not regular ones anyway."

He glanced out the window nearby, saw that they hadn't been followed, and turned back to the other man. He saw the questioning look, the air pregnant with a million questions. He answered them with a question of his own.

"Have you ever heard of lycanthropes, McClellan?"

McClellan was rattled, none have his hunts had ended in a human death. Now, someone had just been dragged off to be eaten and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it. The businessman began to suck in deeper breaths, trying to calm himself down. He got a bag and used that to help further the process. A few minutes later, his breathing was back to normal, he did not notice Lorcan's hands shaking.

The old man arched an eyebrow at the mention of 'lycans.' He thought for another few minutes before looking at Lorcan. "Werewolves?"

"You've heard of them?" the Tarlachian asked.

The Simatarian nodded. "Indeed. We were approached by a small independent film company to front up some money to help make a low budget werewolf film. We turned them down of course.

"It would sound cliche for me to ask you 'do you really think it is one' cause it certainally looked like something that could have been one. Then again. Then again back during the time just after the ice ages up to about medevil our wolves were monsters of themselves. Big buggers, about two to four times the size of what they are today. Human devolpment forced them to evolve into a slightly smaller package. I would say that thing might be the last of those long extince giant wolves, but the footprints showed biped movement. So, if you say it is a werewolf, I believe you.

"What I don't know much about is about them spare moonlight and silver. Anything else I should know?"

"Yes...they're very unfriendly when they're hungry. As you just saw with Broody." Lorcan replied as he glanced out the window again. He froze as he studied the edge of the ruins. Something had moved, but what it was, he was unsure.

"I think we've got company." he muttered as he kept his eyes focused. "It must have followed our scents, but naturally, lycans are wary of humans, for they know of the vast variety of traps that humans are capable of setting.

He raised the rifle and held it in the window, his gaze now peering down the sight. His breath slowed as his finger hovered over the trigger. About three hundred and seventy feet away, a lone creature had emerged from the shadows, and had its nose sniffing the air.

"Friend's here." he stated quietly. McClellan moved behind him to get a view. The lycan moved closer, subtly following the path they had taken, and further avoiding the first few traps set into place.

The report of the rifle was answered with the bullet striking the earth just past the lycan's head.

"Damn...it flinched faster than I expected." Lorcan cursed as he readied his next shot...

The lycan snarled and ducked behind some bushes as another bullet cut through the brush. Its eyesight was perfect in the darkness, the humans were only aided by the moon and the lycan knew the light was exposing it to its prey. Broody had attempted a last lunge at life by trying to ram a stick into the lycan's eyes, it lost him his arm and he bleed to death watching the lycan rip chunks of red meat from the arm before feasting on the rest of his body. Even after devouring a whole human, its body still demanded more meat.

The creature skirted around the edge of the ruins, as more bullets came in and one entered its side, causeing the animal to roar in pain and fustration. It leapt over the crumbled stone wall seperating it from the rest of the ruins and it was then the gunfire halted. It looked up and saw a sliver of glow from the place the prey had been attacking it.

The lycan stood there and cocked its head, the animal instict to feed and kill was still pounding away in the brain, but some other gears began to slowly grind. The lcyan looked around, darkness surrounded it and it dawned on the animal that it was out of the beams of moonlight and the prey could not see it. Though it did not dawn on the lycan it had now entered a blind spot where the hunters could not swing their guns.

The lycan looked into the sky, the pitch black was begining to be scorched by the sun. If it could not feed on the humans now, it would have to kill an elk or something less filling.

The lycan put itself down on all fours to give it better cover as it began to slink its way towards the humans.


McClellan looked at Lorcan, both men had fired at least a dozen shots and in the moonlight they saw a bullet enter the lycan from a jet of blood erupting from the creature.

"Jesus. Daylight is a little bit longer. It is going to get up here. I have no silver and...well, we are fucked if we don't think of a way."

McClellan rooted through a bag and found a can of bugspray. He padded himself down and his bag and could not find matches, Broody had them. "Lorcan, any matches or a lighter? We can burn the bastard...fire scares off animals."

McClellan was a man that Lorcan was finding he was grateful for his quick thinking. He fished a lighter from one of his pockets and tossed it to the other man. He then turned to the window and pushed his head outside to peer and search for the lycan in their blindspot. He saw nothing. Returning back inside, he reported, “Can’t see it anywhere. It’s somewhere in the ruins. It’s past all the traps. Anything we’ve got on our persons are the only things we have left to stop it from tearing us to pieces.”

He rose to his feet and approached the doorway, before looking back to McClellan. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to be cornered in here. I’m heading upward. With that coming dawn, it’ll increase our odds marginally in our favor. These ruins are tall over in the northern sector.” He lowered to the floor and pressed his ear to the ruined stones and listened carefully. “Vibrations coming from the other side of the compound, but heading this way.”

Rising to his feet, he looked toward his companion. “Come on.”

He picked up a pack that held their last ammunition and slung it over his shoulder. He then picked up a single shot rifle they had brought along with them in case one of the other guns had malfunctioned and they couldn’t fix it. Opening the door quickly he kept the rifle in front of him, his finger holding the trigger a hair’s breadth from firing the chambered bullet. He slunk down the stairs, and turned into a side entry, barely distinguishable, yet leading elsewhere than down to the ground. It was a narrow entryway, one more suited to the smaller frames of humans long ago than their slightly evolved larger frames. So far, the lycan was nowhere in sight.

McClellan followed Lorcan, sweat flowing from his forehead and armpits. His heart gave steady thumps as the older man followed the Tarlachian. He decided to put his faith in him since he seemed to know a bit more about lycans than he did. He looked at the tight passageway Lorcan was squeezing himself into and turned around as he heard a noise. It was just the wind as it gusted through the empty hallways and corridors. McClellan squeezed in and was just barely making a few feet before something grabbed the rifle slung over him.

He gave a cry and tripped and found himself sliding back to the lycan. Lorcan spun and grabbed him by the arm and fired his rifle at the beast. The lycan was barely able to get its arm and a bit of its upper body through the tight opening and thankfully for the humans could not get any more in. The thundering crash caused ringing in all of the ears and the force of the large caliber bullet slamming into the lycan caused it to leap backwards, McClellan’s rifle strap breaking and the gun went with the beast.

McClellan rolled over and brought the bottle of bug spray to bear and opened the lighter, but before he shot he looked at the lycan. In the flickering light he could see the dark blood oozing from the wound, but his main focus was on the creature handling his rifle and looking at it, almost as though there was a human inside controlling the beast. It held the weapon like a baby for a few minutes before a snarl formed on its face and it broke the gun and tried to reach back in for McClellan.

A short burst of flame struck the hand before it could take hold of the human and the lycan quickly withdrew its arm as another burst came roaring at it. The creature roared, but at another burst had to accept its meal was lost. The lycan disappeared from the doorway and silence came over the area after a few minutes of listening to the animal howl in pain from the bullets inside of its flesh and in frustration.

The humans didn’t waste any time and continued through the tight corridors as they gently arched upwards. McClellan paused at a small opening and looked in. He called out weakly. “Lorcan.”

The Tarlachian returned to find McClellan squeezing through a tight crawlspace and after passing through the weapons he came into a small room were four archer slits were visible pointing outwards. “Nice little spot eh? Even if the lycan gets through the corridors, crawlspace is too small for it.”

His mind told him to stay awake and alert, but McClellan’s aged body was in control and the old man slowly lay down on the cold stone. Overcome with exhaustion, he fell asleep as the first rays of sunlight filtered across the sky.

There was a slight gust of wind that woke McClellan up. He jolted upwards and looked around him in the small archer's room to see Lorcan sleeping. The old man shook from another gust of wind that blew against the dry sweat on his person. His mind was mush for a few minutes before he remembered the previous night and the werewolf.

He looked at his watch, an hour to sundown. McClellan shook Lorcan awake, handed him a canteen and a Granola bar. He took his own canteen and Granola bar.

"Night is almost here, if I can get to high ground I can call my chopper to come and get us, will take about two to three hours though. Upside...no full moon out tonight so we can't be bothered by our furry friend."

"Doesn't mean it won't be coming after us anyway." Lorcan replied as he finished off the granola bar. He drew some water, sloshed his mouth of the post-sleep dryness and spewed it out the open window. He looked about out there, wondering where the lycan was now.

He looked to the moon that was visible as night began to fall heavily. "That's odd. The moon looks full, hardly any change."

He turned to McClellan, "We might still have a lycan problem." His hand pointed to the moon.

"What?" McClellan gasped as he crawled to the window. The old man had esimated the length full moon wrong. They were still in danger. "Oh fucking shit. We have to move or get pinned in here by the lycan if it ends up sitting outside of the crawlspace."

Grabbing their gear, they slowly slipped out of the archer's station, through the small crawlspace and back out into the main castle. The only noise came from their footsteps and from the wind blowing through the hallways. The pair moved slowly, so far no growls or anything out of the ordinary. Though it was the quiet that bothered McClellan.

They entered a large room, half of the roof was missing from centuries of decay and there were many small piles of rock strewned on the floor. The walls were fairly intact spare for some missing bricks. Though one wall at the far end of the room had a hole big enough for them to squeeze through. "Must be an old storeroom."

As they moved under the missing roof, something landed behind them. Both men turned to find the lycan rising up, the wounds from the previous night healed as though nothing had ever touched the hide. The creature also blocked the door back into the castle.

The lycan stood its ground and roared.

The lycan's breath stunk of vile, putrid dead flesh as it roared at the two of them. Lorcan's eyes went wide as he returned the roar with one of his own and brought his rifle up to fire at the lycan's torso. Several shots were fired before he turned and bolted, McClellan not far behind.

Once again, they were in the forest, and once again running for their lives. Already, they had manuevered past the battle devastated ruins long ago. They were now amongst the ruins of Mother Nature, the branches reaching out to slap them harshly, the slick leaves underfoot threatening to end their flight with each step.

The lycan roared back at the human and jumped up on the rooftop as the gun cracked. It moved to the edge and watched as its prey moved through the forest. It snarled and jumped down and gave chase.

McClellan was not a young man any more. His heart was pumping harder than it had in years and his lungs burned like napalm. He collapsed against a tree; Lorcan turned and found the Simatarian pointing his rifle at him.

"Run boy...I am spent...I've led my life." There was a crashing in the trees behind him. "RUN!"

He smiled as Lorcan took off again and the man turned to face the lycan as it appeared from the bush.

The lycan stared back at the man as the human struggled to stand. It smelled its weakness. It stared at the man; something in its mind began to hit at it, telling it something was different about this human. The lycan's animal mind didn't put it exactly together and instead rushed the man before he could bring the gun to bear.

McClellan screamed shattered the night as the teeth were buried into his skull, cracking the bone and headed into his brain. His death was thankfully quick. The lycan dropped the body and licked the blood from its teeth, the meat was not as tender as it liked. The eyes turned downward and its mind began to speak again as its claws poked the rifle. Gun...danger its mind said before silencing.

The lycan snarled and moved after the younger prey. The creature bellowed and stopped as its body seized up from a series of powerful shocks from its neck and through its body. The lycan grasped at its neck and finding something foreign ripped off a collar with a large black box on it. It stared at for a few seconds before throwing on the ground and continuing the chase.

It took it barely a minute to catch up to Lorcan and as the Tarlachian turned, the lycan tackled him, sending both tumbling down a hill. The lycan jumped off of Lorcan after they stopped and stared as the man stood. Once again its mind told it this prey was not the one it should be eating, something about it was different.

The lycan ignored its mind as its hunger grew and moved towards Lorcan.

Groaning in pain from the impact of the ground, Lorcan rose quickly to his feet and drew two serrated combat knives and held them in each hand. One was flipped about so it faced downward. His face was splattered with blood drenched dirt and his hair hung raggedly about. A snarl was on his face as he glared back at the lycan.

He lept onto a sloped fallen log nearby that was caught in the branches of another tree and ascended quickly. He knew he needed an advantage, and this was all he could come up with.

The log shook violently as the lycan lept onto it, stalking him slowly, the jaws slightly agape and dripping with spittle. Lorcan established a stable positioning, then crouched slightly as he spoke lowly to the lycan, "Come on bitch. I've got teeth too."

The lycan, having heard this, was still wary as she moved closer with each step. A paw swiped toward him, meeting a knife in turn. She let out a yelp as the sharp edge sliced through her pads with ease. Lorcan went offensive, driving the pair of knives in various directions, attempting to slice and bury the blades in as many places as possible, particularly the lycan's face.

The lycan snarled as the human continued to slice and dice at it. The beast moved back as the knives swished through the air and cut its flesh. It snarled and raising a paw smashed down on the dead wood, easily breaking through it and causing the end with Lorcan on it to fall. The wolf roared in victory as it looked down at the human as he struggled to get his blades.

The lycan jumped down next to him and in the same motion, slashed with one paw across his chest, spraying blood on it and sending the man back crying with pain. The lycan kept up the attack with another slash, cutting him up from the waist and almost to his shoulders, the lycan licked its lips as blood flew onto them.

The human stumbled, disoriented, now it was time to attack. With a roar the lycan charged and buried its teeth into the man's left shoulder and its claws into his side. The lycan shook its meal violently as blood flowed into its mouth and out. The claws began to work their way inside of the man before the beast pulled them out and began to rip at his flesh. The screams gave the animal complete joy and pleasure as Lorcan's organs became exposed in the long gashes.

Not in yellow. Not bald. The mind spoke to the lycan again, but the beast kept tearing before releasing the man from its's bloodied jaws. It licked its lips as the voice came again and spoke louder and louder. Lorcan's legs, face, and arms were about the only thing surviving intact. His left shoulder was a mess from where its fangs had torn and his torso was worse. There were too many cuts and gashes to count and through several his small and large intestines poked out.

The lycan roared, the prey was down and would no longer pose a threat. The creature moved in slowly and knelt before him, its head turned down to his stomach and the jaws opened and just as they began to break the skin, the voice came back like a frieght train. He is innocent! Oh my God!

The lycan jumped back from the man, it looked startled and began to back away from the man.

The lycan then turned and disappeared into the forest, leaving Lorcan alone and bleeding.

Several miles from where Lorcan lay the immediate area around an entrance to a decent sized cave was near deserted of animals, the cave also smelled faintly of decaying flesh if one got close enough to it. Inside it was dark for several meters before it branched into two tunnels and in one tunnel there was a dim light and moaning. The tunnel continued for about thirty feet before opening into a large room. The light came from an electric lamp and the moaning came from a naked girl curled up on the floor.

She gently cracked an aquamarine eye open and stared around the cave; some blankets, an iPod, a book, a few water bottles, some toiletries, the lamp, and some clothing were all where she had left them. She rose and scratched herself, licking her lips at the same time, remembering the taste of her dinner last night. Her raven black hair was a mess, but a few brush strokes would fix it.

Amara Waggner ( http://us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/screen_gems/when_a_stranger_calls/camilla_belle/strangercalls2.jpg) appeared by all looks to be eighteen years old. That was true, but her real age was seventy-three. The college student had been studying in Emerald City, Assington when she was walking with a fellow student named Marcus Dante and the pair had been ambushed by vampires. Amara had gone running while Marcus stayed and in a few short minutes she was bitten by a large animal and within the month learned Marcus was a lycanthrope and had turned her. Returning home, her dreams of being an actress shattered, she explained to her friends and family what had happened. But in less than a month, all were dead at the hands of Marcus.

She had killed him and shortly after that had been taken in by Stephen Malone and his wife Nicole, the only Simatarian vampires in existence. They were the only vampires she was not terrified of and they had become her new parents and even started calling them ‘mom’ and ‘dad’. But, something that she didn’t expect with turning was her like for human flesh and so the government allowed her to hunt convicts on death row that no one paid attention to. It worked, until last night and the previous night.

She whistled as she got dressed in a light blue shirt and jeans then put on her denim jacket. Amara cracked her neck and paused. Her hand touched her skin and instantly her stomach sank; the electronic collar that kept her within ten miles of the cave was missing. She shrugged it off, she had probably lost it during the night and it could be found when her memory came back. Amara whistled as she reached the intersection before pausing, the smell of human blood fluttered into her nostrils. Looking down the other cave, she pulled a small flashlight from her pocket, Her sight was far better than any human, but she lacked the near complete night vision in human form that her lycan form gave her, and walked down the tunnel for a while before coming upon a ghastly sight.

Another room, this one several times larger than her den was covered in human remains in varying states of decay from bone to just some strips of meat hanging on. She wasn’t bothered by the sight, all of these men and women had been criminals and they deserved their fate. She followed the smell before finding another body. The light moved up and down the corpse, little was left but it was enough for Amara to notice the man was not in the prison yellow uniform.

“Fuck.” She said. She remembered the man, he had struggled a bit but had ended up like all the others dieing of blood loss and by her ripping open their insides. There was still enough meat on him to make a nice breakfast for any animal, but the predators of the area quickly learned that anything caught by the massive beast was not to be touched, under any circumstance.

Bending down, she easily ripped off a finger and headed back out of the cave, munching on the meat like one would a buffalo wing. She exited into the morning light and turned off the flashlight. Amara thought hard, there had been three men; she remembered dragging one into her cave, one biting directly into his skull, the third…. “Fuck.”

Amara finished the finger and took off running through the trees for a few hundred feet before reaching a pile of brush. She ripped off the brush to reveal a bright red dirt bike and she wasted little time hopping on, gunning the engine and taking off. She veered through the trees with complete ease until she reached the sight of her third victim. She shut off the bike and walked over to him.

He was breathing, so faintly it was hardly audible and his heart was a mere flutter. Most of the gashes had healed yet there was still flesh that was hanging loose. Amara stared coldly down at him, no feelings to the man. Immortality was something everyone thought was cool, but to Amara it had wrecked her. She had no friends and really didn’t find what was so great about it. But, she kept living because she simply hoped that one day it all would change for her.

In this case, the man was still meat and the finger was wearing off. Bending down, she looked him over before finding a piece of flesh sticking out. Without hesitation she bit down and ripped it off, causing blood to splatter to the ground. While chewing on the man’s flesh in her mouth, she removed a pocket knife from her jacket and cut her wrist, dripping some blood down onto the wound to speed up the healing.

He did taste fairly good and Amara grinned as she chewed. She would haul him back, simply to eat later on. He would become a lycan, feel anxious but not feel any full effects till almost the end of the next month. But she could still over power him and by that point he would be devoured. Amara picked him up with ease and dropping him over the bike, climbed back on and sped off.

It took her nearly two hours to get home, she broke through the woods out into massive field and just two miles away she could make the forms of several dilapidated barns. Despite their appearances, one was like a small mansion, one a fitness and weapons center, and one was used to house the Malone’s dragons. All were connected by a series of underground tunnels and in the tunnels were storerooms and such.

Parking her motor bike inside a small shed, she shut the door and opened a hatch on the floor. Picking up her victim, she carried him down into a well lit concrete tunnel and marched down until she was near the house barn and opened a thick metal door to a vacant storeroom. Leaving the man there, she left and returned a half hour later and spent another two hours hooking up some chains and finally chaining the man to the ground.

Amara smiled at her work, now he would not be able to escape. She sat on the floor and stared at him in the light, waiting for him to awake and hopefully panic.

Silence. Ragged breathing. Silence again. A hand clenched slightly, then unfurled again, the bicep stretching to its length. Dried blood on the face gave protest to the eyes slowly opening as the man’s tongue hung slightly ajar. Am I dead? A leg shifted, chains rattling in response. He froze, unsure if he had heard correctly. Rope? No…Chains? He raised his head, attempting to clear his vision and take in the chains binding him. What the—. He froze again as he felt pain still shooting through his body. He collapsed again as his thoughts began to flood his mind in earnest. What happened? Where am I? …hunting something. No, running from something. Big. Deadly. Lycanthrope…McClellan, Broody…dead, murdered.

“I…I’m still alive…” he croaked quietly as he struggled to rise again. At last, he looked down at his torso, the shredded clothing covered in blood, his blood. He peeled those off, only to be reminded of the chains. The hands inspected his body, finding all remembered injuries missing. He was confused, he didn’t understand. “I should be dead. It had me, eating my flesh…I should be dead.”

The sound of soft breathing caught his attention. That was strange-he hadn’t noticed it before. The sounds were more distinct; he could hear another heartbeat nearby. He spun about, regretting momentarily the rapid movement. He locked eyes with Amara, who stared at him coldly, watching. She sat there, her arms crossed over her bent knees that nearly met her chin. He blinked, and then looked at her again. She wasn’t a figment of his imagination; she really was there. Her eyes were strange, almost primal, even feral. She watched him intently, studying him quietly.

Like a hunter. A predator. he realized as he looked at her with a slight frown. He rose to his feet slowly, wincing from some of the injuries still healing. Once again, he was reminded of the impossible. He looked at her again. She was now on her feet, slowly circling, just out of reach.

“What happened?” he pleaded, shaking the chains at her, “Why this?” She did not respond, keeping silent. “Are you deaf? What’s the matter with you? Mute?”

She shook her head negatively, glancing down at his torso momentarily. She watched his muscles tense as he struggled against the chains once more. A tongue licked across her lips as she smiled eerily. She heard him draw in a breath sharply as his eyes widened simultaneously. She could smell the fear that was rising, and it only caused her to smile even more. She watched as he moved farthest from her, only to be stopped by the chains.

She moved steadily closer, much to his dismay. At last she whispered, “Yes…you’re delicious. I’ll be keeping you for the next moon. Then, I’ll kill you.”

He shook his head negatively, anger rising to his face, “No way in hell bitch! I’ll kill you before then!” She laughed, and then fell silent as she raised an eyebrow.
“And how will you do that when you’re chained down? Mind you, those chains are forged to hold even the strongest creatures down. Many a vampire has died in them, and I too at one time. No, I don’t think you’ll be getting out of here on your own.”

She slunk closer, her hand trailing across his chest, “Yes, I’ll have fun playing with you. I do rather like a good struggle before I snap out the life of my prey in my jaws.” Before he could react, her hand rose swiftly and gripped his throat, hoisting him with ease off the ground. Her voice grew cold, “Don’t try to fuck with me. You’ve no hope.” He was cast down, and she departed the room with that same sensual walk of predators. The thick doors slid into place behind her, leaving him standing in the center of the room, illuminated by a sole lamp that hung overhead.

Falling to his knees, more from the pain that he still felt, he buried his face in his hands and moaned softly. “Oh God…”

Amara stood outside of the room and smiled as she heard a muffled whimper through the door. She would take her time with him, maybe cut off a strip of meat or two for dinner tonight. The lycan walked down the cold, grey corridor and reached a staircase that spiraled upwards into a small room. She opened a door and instead of finding moldy planks of wood infested with termites and rats, it was like a small mansion. The floors were of polished hardwood and the walls were also much the same, several plush chairs and couches sat on Oriental style rugs, a large stone fireplace sat in the corner the blaze burning bright, and off in the back there was a kitchen with a white marble topped bar.

She heard a fluttering and smiled as a miniature pincher sized animal fluttered up to her. It was an ice blue colored dragon; his tail flew wildly behind him as he licked the lycan in the face. “Hey Tolkien.”

The dragon reached out with its paws to her and Amara took it in her arms and stroked its scales gently. Tolkien was the runt of the first litter of Stephen Malone’s dragon Cassandra. He was more or less a scaly, flying dog. The dragon lived in a small refrigerator in the kitchen and was the closest thing to a friend Amara had. She walked upstairs and whistled her captive still in her mind. The Malone’s were not at home, they had said they were going of somewhere for a while so Amara had the house to herself; which suited her perfectly.

Her room was fairly large and she had her own four poster bed. Amara let Tolkien go and the dragon flew up and landed on her dresser. Amara thought of the man down below her, whimpering and probably fighting against the chains. She had had them strapped to her one night when she had suddenly changed; it had taken Stephen, Nicole, and the two VIB agents living on the farm to lasso her and keep her pinned down long enough for her to be tranquilized. They had been greatly strengthened and had once been used on a vampire, who ended up in her stomach like the hundreds of human victims she had.

Amara began to undress for a shower and stopped whistling when she looked at her nightstand. There was a photograph of four youths in a gold frame; Amara was one of them. A girl and two guys, her friends. The girl had long blonde hair in a pony tail, one of the boys had a pair of off-center glasses and a mop of brown curly hair, and the last one had fairly neat dirty blonde hair. The coldness in her eyes that had come back after letting go of her dragon was gone again as she stared at the four of them smiling at the camera.

Amara gently stroked the cheek of the dirty blonde guy. She muttered softly. “Twitch…”

Samantha Knutson, Alan Chapman and Amara’s best friend Troy ‘Twitch’ Achenbach. All had been killed by Marcus just before he had killed her family. A tear welled in Amara’s eyes before she blinked it out and took a shower. After her shower, she dried off and dressed in a pair of black jeans and a blood red t-shirt and headed downstairs.

Amara was followed by Tolkien to the kitchen where she removed a buffalo steak from the refrigerator and put it on a plate for the little animal. While Tolkien tore into his meal, Amara removed a bottle of beer from the fridge and sipped it. She knew Stephen didn’t like it; he had an alcoholic problem as a human and had not touched a drop since his mid-twenties. She finished the bottle and tossed it in the trashcan. Her captive came up again, she wanted him to live, at least for now. Amara was debating if she should let him live to his first full moon or she should just carve him up and eat him now. Not really in good condition. Need to fatten him up a bit.

Sighing, she reached again into the fridge and pulled out some ham slices, on top of fridge she got a few slices of bread, and an apple. Though these items seemed strange in a house with vampires and a lycanthrope, the Malone’s had some friends who didn’t drink blood or need an all meat diet. She also got him a bottle of water. Putting it on a tray, she left Tolkien to sleeping off his lunch on the couch and headed back down to see her captive.

When she opened the door, she smiled coldly when she saw him cower. She turned and shut the door. “Time for lunch my prey. Don’t think I feel sorry for you…I will kill you without hesitation if I feel like it. I probably won’t eat you now. Need to fatten you up a bit.”

The man just stared back at her as she put the tray down and watched him. Amara licked her lips, she couldn’t wait to bite into him; she probably wouldn’t even change for that, dig her hand into his gut and pull out his liver and let him watch her eat it while he was still living.

“Aren’t you hungry? I know I might be…and I am looking at my dinner for tonight. A slice or two off your calf and back would be nice.” Amara said coldly, the smell of the man’s fear was intoxicating. “I think you should tell me why you are here and where you came from.”

Amara walked up to him and smiled as he reached the limit of the chains. “You can tell me the easy way…or my way.” Her fingernails slashed across his face, leaving several long streaks of blood on his check. Amara showed him her slightly elongated fingernails as she licked the blood off them before they shrunk back to normal length. She moved away from him and gently kicked the tray of food a bit closer to him.

Amara spun around and stared coldly at him, it was obvious she was not in the mood to play games.

“So, who are you…and why did you come here?”

He merely stood in place as he glared at the woman. He paid no attention to the food. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him eat. His primal fear was enough, and he knew she could sense it. It was reflected in her eyes. For the third time, and this time her voice laced with poisonous meaning, “Answer the damn question!” He received another slash across his face.

I can’t tell her. She’ll kill me. I can figure this out. I can get out of here. he thought to himself as he surveyed the room around them. Something…anything… His thoughts were interrupted as she reached out to rake his face with her nails. Instantly, he reacted by ducking and maneuvering as far as the chains allowed, away from her. The surprise in her eyes was momentary as she looked at him.

“My name is Nicholas Clarke. I came to lead a hunting party for deer. That’s it.”

She studied him with her arms crossed in front of her and a hand stroking her chin thoughtfully. At last she replied, “You’re lying.”

He swallowed somewhat visibly, Shit. “No, I’m telling you the truth.”

Her nails slashed red bloody marks across his chest. He grunted in response, yet did not give in. “Listen you fucking bitch! There are deer in those woods, and I was leading two good men on a hunt f—“

Suddenly, he found her pinning him to the ground, her hands holding his arms down as she snarled into his face, “I killed all the deer already. There’s none to be found for at least one hundred miles around.” She growled as she tightened her grip even more, relishing his pained cry. “Now, tell me what I want to know.”

Looking up at her as he winced in pain, he cleared his throat, then spit in her face. She howled and suddenly buried her face into his shoulder, ripping out a chunk of his flesh. His ensuing cry echoed in the room as he thrashed and struggled to get away from her. She finally got off but only on her own prerogative and picked out the meat in her teeth. She held it up for him to see, “Your blood and flesh, quite tasty I must say.” She chucked the piece into her mouth and swallowed it. A delicate hand wiped the excess blood on her chin to be licked off seconds later. She looked down at the man and growled, “One last chance, or I’ll kill you right now.”

He looked up at her, a hand covering the wound on his shoulder. Oddly, he could feel the flesh under his fingers mending back together. He glanced at it, alarmed at this. “What the…” Her last words caused his hair to stand on end. With another few seconds of silently marveling at his healing, he slowly returned his gaze to her. Silence filled the room for a few seconds. Just as she was about to pounce on him, he replied softly, wincing from the pain occasionally,

“Lorcan. Lorcan Tansho. I was hired to hunt big game, and I told them of a mysterious creature in these parts that might be worth every penny of the trip.”

He looked down at his shoulder again. It was healed completely, leaving fresh clean skin in place. He shook his head in disbelief. His attention was drawn back to her by a slight shift in her positioning.

“Obviously not a mystery anymore…it’s a shame we didn’t kill you. You’re not human anymore. You’re nothing better than those inmates you kill. I saw the shredded pieces of yellow clothes all over the place. It’s obvious you’ve got some deal with the government on this. They feed you; you take care of management costs within correctional facilities. You’re a pawn you know. They can tell you to do something, and you’ll do it. Don’t you think they have safety measures in place to kill you should you rebel?”

He laughed his defiance at her. He realized he was onto something here, something that might give him bargaining power. This was his forte back home, wrangling out deals and payments. “What’s going to happen when they finally decide that you’re expendable, and order your head on a silver platter?” He laughed again, “Now wouldn’t that be fitting? Your head…on a silver platter!”
He watched her emotions, her eyes particularly. She was infuriated at him, but she seemed to be holding back, as if she were interested in what he had to say. He was ready to deliver his final piece. “Now, I can get you out of this vortex they’ve got you trapped in. I can get you a better setup,” he glanced about momentarily, “And a better place to stay.”

Amara stared down at the man, his flesh healed quiet nicely. Though the full effects of his transformation would not be felt for a good amount of time, the fact he was self-healing at an early stage was promising, for her at least. She listened to him ramble on about the government and the set up they had with her. It caused her to laugh, not a sweet joke induced laugh, but one of malice that quickly became a cackle. She walked back to his tray and opened the bottle of water and took a sip, if he didn’t want it, why waste it?

“Hunting me? Hunting me? Oh dear me I should be all a quiver of the brave hunting group coming after me.” She grinned at him. “I do hope you all got your money’s worth. But…you weren’t here for me. No, you were here for something more…scaly. You were here for our dragons…weren’t you?”

“Dragons?” Lorcan replied, a bit confused. “Your nation…”

Before he could finish, Amara was on him again, lifting him up off the floor and slamming him against the walls, the chains went taunt as she pushed them to the limit of their extent. Her eyes grew darker and her teeth extended, she snarled at him; her hot breath washing over his face. “It would be within your best interest to not question me…unless your want your stay here to be more unpleasant. And everything can always get worse.”

Amara dropped him and stared down at him. “We do have a small dragon population. They keep to themselves and don’t mind passers by. Tarlachian Ice Dragons…all of them. Most live up in the higher mountains though some live down here. They don’t mind me a lot since they know they can beat me in a one on one fight.”

Amara stared at him before pacing the room. His last name, very familiar to her. Tansho…Tansho…the name rang a bell in her head everything was in front of her yet she couldn’t fully get the picture. She paused and stared at him, the darkness crept back into her eyes. She spoke in a very low voice, one that rang in the room and made the air cold. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Rikan Tansho now would you?”

She studied Lorcan as his heart rate increased by several beats and his eyes flashed with fear and uncertainty. He didn’t have to say anything, he told her everything with his movement. “Ooo…delicious. Relative of the famous Rikan Tansho but a few meters from me…delicious. I think I shall enjoy this even more. I might send her your eyeballs…but then again they are so sweet like candy.”

Amara decided to confront him about the government before he got any ideas in his head. “No matter what you say or offer Tansho…I am going to eat you alive. The government, they can forgive if I kill an innocent every now and then…I really don’t pay much mind, all of you humans are just food. As long as I don’t make it a habit…but the area I hunt in is not traveled very often and since people have begun to talk of a large predator, even harder to find a nice tasty human there. Though bears and others are plentiful.

“I am not a government pawn Tansho…I eat convicts because I get my fun of torture and eating human flesh. Besides, consider who I am living with they won’t touch me.”

“Who are you…?” Lorcan began.

“Shut up!” Amara yelled at him, causing the man to quiet. “None of your concern and you will never know. Just so you know, no one is here and this place is sound proof…so scream all you want.”

Amara stared at him, he was in good physical shape, and maybe having sex with him before he dies wouldn’t be such a bad idea. She pushed the thought of her head as she stared at him. She wasn’t afraid of the comments he made, he was alone down here and she was in firm controls.

“So, what other bullshit are you going to shovel my way to attempt and yourself out?”

Rikan…It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. Lorcan mused silently, She’d kill this bitch if she saw what was being done to me. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, Yes…there’s my playing card…I think. But, not now. He realized he’d been silent for some time now, and she was watching him, waiting. He gave a low, yet audible sigh as he hung his head.

“Well?” she demanded as she paced around him before stopping in front of him. She brought her head low, attempting to draw his eyes to her. At last, he looked up to her, his face set in stone. It was without emotion as he spoke,

“Death shall have my soul before you do.”

She snickered, then exploded in laughter as she took a few steps back to enjoy the moment. As she laughed, she complimented him, “Oh stop! You’re killing me! You and your damn bravado act. You Tansho’s are all alike!”

“We are family after all.” Lorcan retorted, “At least we’ve got something going for us. Can’t say you’ve got the same after all.” The comment stung her, and it showed in her eyes as she fell silent. He took advantage of it. “Does that hurt? No family for you? What a shame, to have been abandoned by your own family. Makes you feel like shit doesn’t it? Makes you feel alo—“

A heavy fist tore into his face, spinning him and throwing him to the ground by the severity of it. He saw nothing but stars, yet felt her pressing her hands into his throat as she screamed at him, “My family was killed! Murdered!” He started to gag, thrashing for his life. Perspiration gathered on her face as she looked murderously down at him with a snarl. She saw his eyes bulging as his hands struggled to loosen her deathly grip upon his throat. Slowly his eyes began to lose their luster, and his attempts to free himself grew less frequent, less frantic. As a result, her anger did so as well, and with a heave, she retreated from his still body. He did not move, but simply lay there, struggling to survive. She could hear his raspy breaths, his heart pounding heavily.

“Murdered,” she whispered at last. “Because of Marcus.” Turning away, she wept a tear, before angrily wiping it away with her hand. Behind her, Lorcan sat up slowly, his eyes slightly dazed still. She could feel his eyes upon her, watching.

“I’m sorry.” He said at last, “I know what its like to have relatives murdered.” I’ve found her weakness. I can break her. Of course, he was lying to her, yet his mind was working out alternatives, courses of action. He would play off what she gave him, and he would use it as best as he could. He had found the psychological silver bullet. Now, he just needed to find a way to replace that bullet with a real silver one. But first, he needed to get her to release him from the chains. “Look, I know you’re strong, fast, and will have no difficulty in ending my life should you wish. Keep me around and I’ll do what I can to help you, whatever it may be. Just get me out of these chains already. That is, unless you’re afraid of me.”

She had not moved from facing away from him, but now she did as she turned slowly back to him, “Afraid? No…but, I shall consider your request.” She turned and departed the room, leaving him to his thoughts and scheming.

After securely locking the door, Amara paused and let some tears fall silently onto the cold floor. Her family, torn to shreds because of her being bitten. Her father decapitated, her brother half eaten and her mother’s face torn off. Her brother’s dog and her cat didn’t escape the carnage. The lycan walked down the hallway and made her way upstairs back to the living room. Tolkien fluttered around her as she shut the door to the tunnels and laid on one of the couches.

The dragon landed on her stomach and stared down at her, he could tell she was not in a good mood and lowered his head and started to lick her face. Amara smiled a little as she twisted her head to get out of the way of Tolkien’s tongue, but the dragon lay down on her stomach and continued to lick. Amara stopped and let him continue. She thought about Lorcan’s offer.

Her gut told her he was lying, he had already proved himself a firebomb when he had first woken up and the fact he was a Tansho didn’t shine too well with her either. Rikan Tansho was from Tarlachia as Amara heard, which would mean Lorcan was too. Amara knew he could not be trusted and he could not be let out. Rikan wouldn’t come for him…he has no way to contact her. Amara relaxed and petted the dragon on her stomach and turned on the TV.

She didn’t pay much attention to the music videos; the noise just helped her relax. She stared at Tolkien, the little dragon had stopped licking and placed his head on her chest and stared back at her and blinked. Amara knew she couldn’t let Lorcan out, the first thing he would probably do would be to run to the Tarlachian embassy and raise Cain there and then everything would come crashing down on her and the Malone’s.

Amara thought back to throttling him, it felt so good to teach him a lesson about who was in charge and how not to take what he was saying too far. She would have to find something else to make him weaker and submit to her easier. He would learn who the Master was. She thought for nearly an hour before smiling, it took her another ten minutes to gingerly remove the sleeping dragon from her stomach and place him in some blankets.

Amara headed back downstairs into the cool tunnels. The tunnels were climate controlled in case the vampires had to go down there if their home burned down or something happened. The heat was rarely on, but now it would be her weapon. Instead of heating the whole system, she only selected his room and cranked up the heat to nearly ninety-five degrees; she would start small and work her way up.

Amara smiled as she walked back down to his door and opened a viewing port in the door. Lorcan looked up and saw her face, grinning down at him.

“I haven’t made up my mind about your little ‘offer’ and being a Tansho and Tarlachian isn’t going to aid your case.” Amara paused and the look in her eye gave Lorcan a shiver. “It might get a bit toasty in there shortly just so you know. Now…time for you to learn who the Master is. So…talk good and fast and watch your tongue…unless you want me to eat it.”

Toasty? “I thought you liked your food raw.” Lorcan replied. He gave a hard glare at her. She scowled at him. She let it go this time though. Instead, she pressed him for information.

“How long do you think you’ll last in this temperature?” she asked as she watched the first drops of sweat begin to bead upon his forehead.
“How hot did you set it?” he answered with his own question.
“Ninety-some odd degrees.”
Lorcan scoffed, “Oh, not long at all.”
“You’re lying.” She responded.
“You’re observant.” He replied sarcastically.

Several minutes later, Amara was back. She had set the temperature to a hundred and forty degrees Fahrenheit now. “Just think of it as a sauna. Your very own sweat box. Hope you enjoy this, boy.” For the next hour, she watched as he settled down, attempting to conserve his energy, to maintain a cooler body temperature. His breathing slowed as sweat flowed freely down his body. Strangely, all the while, he seemed to be doing all right. His eyes were focused on an invisible spot on the wall as he did what he could to survive. In actuality, Lorcan had trained in the desert to rely on himself, to do exactly as he was doing now. Had there been sunlight overhead, his predicament would have surely been more dangerous. Yet, this room was not much different. There was also a lack of any hope for the slightest breeze.

Two hours had passed now, and he still remained in place. Amara had gone away for a little while, for a bite to eat, then had returned to watch him. Inwardly, she marveled at his discipline, not sure how he was able to keep focused in the intense heat. At last, tired of waiting, she opened the door and was blasted by a wave of heat. Blinking a few times in the temperature shock to her body, she kept her eyes on him. In her hand, she held a plastic cup filled with ice-cold water. This, she place down on the ground in front of him, but out of reach.

“Here’s your chance, Tansho. Ice cold water just for you. All you have to do is reach for it.” She stepped back, beginning to sweat heavily herself. She could smell him easily, could smell the perspiration that had created a sort of invisible bubble around his person. Lorcan looked down at the cup, then back up to her. His dry lips cracked open, causing his lips to split open and bleed. “You test me.” He stated.
She merely smiled. She gestured for him to reach for it. “Go on, I won’t bite. Not this time.”

At first, he did nothing as he focused on the spot on the wall again. Then, at last, his eyes turned downward to the water. He knew he needed it. He couldn’t hold out much longer. This deadly heat was getting to him, although he struggled to fight it. Finally, he leaned forward as far as he could until the chains halted his progress. His hand hung in the air, several inches from the merciful water. He was out of range, and he knew it. Slumping to the ground with his arm still outstretched, he lay panting slightly. He hated to do this, but it was necessary, or he’d die. And he didn’t want to die. Not this way. Not bound in chains to the concrete floor of some room somewhere. “Please…no more.” He whispered as his eyes closed and he passed out at last. His fingers curled closed slightly.

Amara wiped the sweat that was covering her forehead with the back of her hand. Jesus Christ its hot. I’ll probably take a dip in the pool later. The man had survived longer than she had anticipated. She licked her drying lips as more sweat leaked through her pores and began make her clothes stick to her body. Amara stepped out of the heat when she began to feel a bit dizzy and back into the cool hallway and shivered from the massive change in temperature. She wasn't use to the extreme changes and rested her head against the wall for several minutes. She went to the control panel and lowered Lorcan’s room temperature to normal, but thankfully for her purposes the heat would stay in there for quiet a while afterward.

Amara went back upstairs and grabbed a towel along with a bottle of ice cold water and a whiskey shot glass before heading back downstairs into the tunnels. Lorcan was still passed out on the floor and Amara wiped the sweat off her face, arms and hands with the towel as she stared at his body. He would submit he had no choice to. Amara picked up the glass she had brought him and found the water to be semi-warm. She poured it on the floor so it created a small pool of standing water just out of reach of Lorcan.

His endurance annoyed her yet it also made her more curious about this man. Amara had found she could break him; at least right now it appeared she had. His last words made her smile inside; he was still just a worthless hunk of meat. Amara smiled at that thought, she knew how to get him up.

Amara walked up to the body, knelt, and ripped off his shirt to reveal his muscled body glistening with sweat. Her teeth sharpened and elongated slightly as she bit hard into his left shoulder. She felt him spasm and kept her teeth firmly in place as she began to lick the blood that came out of the wounds and gave a hard shake, making him moan. Amara’s eyes turned to see Lorcan’s own flutter and he looked at her, exhaustion and horror was in them, he was too weak to do anything to her though his free arm attempted to swing; it only got a few inches off the ground.

Amara chewed on Lorcan’s flesh for a bit before pulling off a small chunk and she met his gaze with a bloody smile as she chewed on the strip of meat that hung from her mouth. The lycan stood and walked back to where she left the bottle and whiskey shot glass. She sat on the floor and poured a shot of water and put it within arm’s reach of him, not much to her surprise, he dragged it to him and quickly got the water in him.

“Now…you see what I can do my pet? I can make you melt and make you freeze or make you comfortable…until I start eating you of course. I will give you a shot of water each time you answer my question correctly…one hundred percent. If I detect even the slightest bit of a lie or twist of the truth…no water. First, where did you come from? Who were those two men with you? Does anyone else know you are here? Any chance of Rikan showing up?” Amara said. She licked the blood off her lips and wiped it off her chin with her fingers and licked those clean too. “I really don’t want you dead…not yet anyway. Keep yourself alive and answer truthfully and I might just settle for feeding from you every so often instead of killing you outright. You don’t want your master to go without human flesh now do you?”

Sloshing the cool water in his mouth momentarily before swallowing it, Lorcan listened as Amara launched into her interrogation. His shoulder throbbed, yet he could feel the flesh slowly healing itself. It was a strange feeling, one he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to get used to. Sure is a nice plus when severe wounds are dealt. Such as when she nearly killed me… He then noticed she had fallen silent, watching him.

“Full of questions aren’t you?” he began, receiving a warning look from her, “Chill. I’ll tell you what you want to know. I’m from a small village in the countryside of Tarlachia, deep in Raxhun territory. The two men you killed without just cause were Mr. Broody and Mr. McClellan. Broody used to run a corporate telecommunications company. McClellan headed Lander Mining Consolidated here in your very own country. You might’ve heard of the company, they’re quite powerful economically speaking.”

He took a moment’s pause to focus his gaze upon the water. Amara muttered something, as if she had forgotten about it, but poured him two shots worth of water, each taken and swallowed quickly by Lorcan. When he was finished, she took the glass back, setting it down. A hand waved for him to continue.

“Only a few others know I’m here. People you won’t have much to worry about. However,” he gave her a smirking look, “you might have a problem if they contact Rikan, once they realize I’ve been gone longer than expected. Trust me, if Rikan finds out—and she will—she will go to all ends to ensure you are dead in order to secure my life.”

She mused over this for a moment, pouring him more water in the meantime, “How long until that happens?”

“I’m not expected back until about a week and a half from now.” He replied. Plenty of time for you to kill me unless I can prevent it somehow.

“Understood.” She replied, “Tell me more about Rikan. All I know is that she’s some mercenary with a knack for hunting paranormal creatures. What else can you tell me?”

Lorcan smiled slightly at this. He was going to enjoy telling her about Rikan’s history. “Well for starters, she’s the embodiment of mercenaries and assassins everywhere. Her attacks are methodically precise, and rarely miss their target. She’s got these pretty nifty weapons that are basically retractable blades on a set of bracers. Using her skills of hand-to-hand combat, she’ll leave even the most seasoned military soldiers to rot in some unmarked grave somewhere. She’s on regular service to the Tarlachian government to eliminate those vampires that step beyond their agreed boundaries. Typically, death is the consequence when they do things like that.”

Pausing as she slid another glass of water, more to keep him talking, he watched her expression. She was intrigued, as if she were weighing the possibility of engaging this woman in combat. It would be a challenge, she realized, a very good challenge. Lorcan’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“To put a long story short, she’s the best there is out there if you want an assassin or mercenary to tie up a few loose ends. She even guarantees her work, I’ve heard.”

By now, the room had chilled enough to return to normal temperatures. However, Lorcan still was coated in sweat. He looked at her, “Are you going to let me out of these chains? There’s nothing I can do to you. You’ve proven that already. After all, I’m not Rikan.”

Amara chuckled as she heard of what the profession was of her two earlier victims. “Guess I literally took a bite out of big business.”

She had heard of Rikan Tansho, she was the first person Stephen told her to watch out for. Apparently she was the one you went to if you had a non-human creature to deal with. Though Amara was confident she could beat any human in hand-to-hand in her lycan form, Lorcan was proof of this, but Rikan was a known professional and Amara would rather try to shoot her before she got close than go up against her hand to hand.

Amara did not like the fact Rikan was sometimes tied to the Tarlachian government at all. That could cause some serious problems, but she knew Stephen knew one or two high ranking Tarlachian officials and the fact Amara could make the easy case of panicking about only biting Lorcan and chaining him up without knowing what else to do. She was still a young lycanthrope and it could work, the fact she looked more like a kid than an adult could also play on sympathy.

“Let you out…” Amara muttered. She knew he was still a danger when he got his strength back. But for now since he had not eaten the food she had given to him, the massive lose of blood and the exhaustion from the heat that had just died down; he was not threat for the moment. Amara pulled from her pocket a key and unlocked Lorcan, spare for on chain around his ankle, more or less to torment him.

She stepped back as the man rubbed his sore wrists and one free ankle. It was then Amara was upon him, grabbing him by the throat, she lifted him up into the hair and high above her head and kept a firm grip on his neck.

“Think of this Tansho while you are down here if Rikan does come. Considering that I bit you and you my puppy in a sense…will she kill you too because you are becoming a lycan? My country has a nasty habit of chasing after murderers into other lands…so think of that also.”

Amara brought him down to eye level. “With your new freedom, don’t think of anything smart or I will take away your sight and your manhood.”

Amara tossed him back hard against the wall. “Do you understand me pup?”

Rubbing his neck from her strong fingers he looked up to her scowling slightly. Yet he said nothing. He was getting familiar with this game. He was figuring out her modes of persuasion. Like a labyrinth, he was slowly working his way to her core, learning her patterns, her weaknesses.

“Even if she comes, she won’t kill me. She’s tolerant of paranormals until they step out of line, and I know for fact I won’t be doing that around her.”

Her laughter was soft at first, and then grew louder until she was laughing uproariously. Then, she fell silent as she looked at him squarely. “You have no idea of what struggles you’ll face throughout your change.” A sinister smile followed.

He watched her silently, letting her speak. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” He gave a moment of pause, “But, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re afraid. Afraid of Rikan coming. As if you doubt your own ability to survive in a combat situation with her.”

He raised his hand, keeping her silent from the reprisal he knew she desired to vent. “Hear me out. Should she come, I can make her leave quite easily without trouble. All I have to do is tell her all’s good, that I’ve got everything under control. But, of course, it’s going to need some cooperation from you to make this work right. She’s not easy to persuade, but I know how to do it.”

Amara scowled at Lorcan as he talked about his cousin. Having Rikan come did give Amara a flutter in her chest, but she was pleased in the fact that Rikan did not know where Lorcan was. She might get the general area where he was suppose to be and there were very slim chances she might find her cave, but Amara probably had a better chance at dieing of old age before Rikan got close to finding where Lorcan was.

“You…in control?” Amara chuckled. “My my you are doing a very poor job at being in charge here. It seems that I am in the one that is in control. And I also doubt that you would want to have her leave. First chance you get you will get her to kill or wound me so that you and she can get away. Also, she has no idea in hell of where you are. She’ll be in a wheelchair with nine IV tubes sticking out of her before she gets close.”

Outside of the room, there was a buzz and Amara left Lorcan. She shut the door and slammed the deadbolt home before she headed upstairs. The lycan walked to the parlor and opened the door to be confronted by a woman with red hair and brown eyes. Amara felt a slight twang in her gut; did the VIB agent see Amara bring Lorcan’s body? “Agent Jones.”

The VIB agent smiled. “Hey Amara. Devin and I are going to hit the movies. Horses are fed and there are no appointments today.”

Amara felt the weight of the world leave her. “Okay, have a good time.”

Amara waited for the car with the VIB agents to leave before shutting the door and grinned as she headed back downstairs to Lorcan. The lycan grabbed another length of the same kind of chain she used to keep Lorcan pinned from the wall. She opened the door and much to the Tarlachian’s surprise; she unlocked him, but promptly relocked him on the other ankle.

Amara didn’t wait for Lorcan to speak as she drug him into the hallway by the chain and up a flight of stairs and into the small building where her dirt bike was stored. Amara took him into the bright sunshine and tied the loose end of chain and tied it tight around a tree.

"Here you go. Enjoy some freedom. Try to run and I will eat one of your legs."

Amara stepped back as Lorcan stumbled to his feet and stared at the acres of grass before the surrounding woods, alone miles away from civilization. There was a bellowing that caught him and made him turn. A male dragon of a dark ice blue color that was about half the size of a school bus came barreling at him, the male paused and stared coldly at Lorcan before rearing up in its hind legs and spreading its wings in intimidation before going back on all fours and tucking his wings in.

Amara had put herself up in the tree where Lorcan was tied. She didn’t show any fear of the beast, this was Cassandra’s mate Darius. The dragon was nearly a hundred years older than his mate and was still a bit wild, but had slowly become more domestic. Darius had grown a bit more defensive around his new home as Cassandra was pregnant for the second time. The dragon stared at Lorcan and spoke in Draconic.

“Who are you stranger? Why have you come here?”

Lorcan’s eyes widened as he saw the massive dragon menacingly addressing him in its native tongue. His mind caught the syllables uttered, attempting to remember the correct translation. After several moments, he swallowed heavily and replied in draconic without removing his own gaze from the dragon’s own. “Lorcan. Of Tarlachia, like you. I’m here as her…guest.” He gave a thumb upward toward Amara. He watched as the dragon looked up at her momentarily and snorted. Amara simply smiled and waved briefly.

“You mean prisoner.” Darius retorted, “fresh meat.” His great maw opened to reveal a number of sharp fangs. Lorcan’s muscles tensed as he realized what this dragon was going to do. A heavy foot slammed against Lorcan’s body, casting him aside with such force that Lorcan felt and heard bones in his leg snapping against the strong chains. Lorcan howled in pain as he lay on the ground clutching his leg. Darius moved closer and growled as he reared up to stomp Lorcan into the earth. Lorcan saw this coming and dodged by thrusting himself under the beast’s belly. Darius’s tail whipped about and knocked him to the earth again. Another cry of pain was heard as Lorcan’s leg hit the ground. He looked up to Amara who still did nothing while in her perch. She merely smiled darkly at him.

He yelled, “Come on! Get this chain off me! Give me a bloody chance!”

Darius who was about to deliver another stomp down, ceased and looked up at her. A grunt was heard as he seemed to agree. It was clear he was enjoying this little bashing, but even Lorcan could tell Darius wanted him to give all he had against him.

Amara sat in the tree and stared down as the dragon began to beat up her captive. Darius was still wild at heart and seemed to be having a blast. She had brought injured home only once, barely four months ago, the man had evaded her by climbing up a massive oak and waiting till she went away. He fell halfway down the tree in the morning; break his leg and going unconscious. Amara had brought him back, but before she could park her bike, he woke, knocked her back and stumbled into the barn where Darius and Cassandra slept. The only thing Amara heard was a scream before the smell of fresh human blood entered her nostrils.

Now, she stared down at Lorcan and Darius. She wouldn’t let Darius kill Lorcan, she wanted that pleasure for herself and she also would not let Lorcan hurt Darius; then again Lorcan’s leg seemed to be broken. With that in mind it was doubtful he could do much against the dragon, but she remembered it was best not to underestimate him. She also began to add in factors like he probably hadn’t eaten since early last night and had only had about a cups worth of water since he had been her prisoner.

She sighed and wrapping her legs around the branch, she let herself roll smoothly to where she was upside down. Amara released her legs and did a single flip in the air before landing perfectly and gracefully on her feet. She walked up to Lorcan and smiled down at him. She kicked his injured leg, issuing a cry of pain from the man and a grin from her.

“Oh what will do you do with a broken leg?” She said as she gave it another kick, causing Lorcan to howl again. “You know, I am seriously considering to keep you alive long enough to turn and go after your cousin Rikan if she ever comes. No matter what you might think, you lose all human thought for the first few decades of transformation.”

Amara removed a key from her pocket and stared at Lorcan. “You are crazy, you will not win. I can make sure of it.”

Amara bent down and unlocked the chain from Lorcan’s ankle and removed the chain from the tree and hurtled it far out of Lorcan’s reach so he could not use it as a weapon. Amara turned to Darius and spoke in Draconic, knowing Lorcan would know what she was saying.

“Darius, are you wondering why this Tarlachian was in this country? If you promise not to kill him no matter what I will tell you why.”

The dragon looked at her, then at Lorcan as he slowly moved around the human. “Yes I do.”

Amara looked at Lorcan and grinned darkly. It took him a few moments to understand what she would say and she noted a slight look of terror in his eyes. “He was here hunting your children and grandchildren.”

Darius paused and looked at Amara and blinked. Cold rage grew inside of the male, he and his mate had raised their pups to adulthood and many had gone to Tarlachia to find mates of their own and bring them back here to raise their own families. Now a Tarlachian, a person who was supposed to have respect for the dragon species and for the pups comes over here to hunt them. Darius stomped on the ground, his massive claws digging into the earth. He reared up on his hind legs and spread his wings. With a roar he fired a spike of ice at the man, Lorcan rolled out of the way as it buried itself several meters in to the earth. The dragon went back down on all fours and began to advance upon Lorcan.

Amara backed off and smiled at Lorcan. “I’ll be watching. Don’t worry, I won’t let him kill you or you him. But, just some advice, woods is only a few miles run…and Darius is pissed right now…it might be in your best interest to run."

"Why the hell would I hunt dragons here, scarce as they are here, when they are more plentiful back home?!" Lorcan cried as he watched Darius advance aggressively. He looked the dragon in the eye and felt fear tingling his spine. He obeyed the instinct and simply ran.

Through the woods he darted as fast as he could, stumbling over some rocks, ocassionally smacking into a tree with enough force to cause him some pain, and being pursued by the lumbering dragon who roared from time to time. Each time he did so, Lorcan ran faster.

As he ran, Lorcan realized several things. One...his sense of smell was increasing slowly. He could smell distinct smells, even while running. Two...his eyesight caught details of things around him more so than average, and three, he was running a whole lot faster than he would have before. Lastly...his leg, although still broken in a sense didn't feel like it was broken. His mind struggled to understand this as he simultaneously dodged incoming ice spears fired at him from behind.

As Lorcan ran through the trees, Darius followed from above, staring coldly at the man, rage fueling his lust to kill the man/lycan. He fired another spike, barely missing Lorcan by a few feet. The dragon flapped harder, getting ahead of Lorcan. He circled around once before diving into a small opening in the trees. The male landed with a heavy thud and he quickly spun on Lorcan, who came to a screeching halt. Both stared at each other, Darius bared his teeth, ready to rip into Lorcan before his attention was drawn by another roar.

The dragon’s attention was caught by Amara in lycan form standing on top of a large boulder a few meters behind Lorcan. Darius knew if needed he could defeat her, but he didn’t want to do that. He liked her a lot, she watched after the pups when he and Cassandra went off to feed and she never seemed to be sad, at least that he could see. The dragon also knew she had much more to lose than he did if Lorcan got away, not only her…the two nightwalkers she lived with would also be lost.

Still, Lorcan had tried to hurt his pups, both newborns and the ones starting their own families. He watched Amara; she stood there, staring down at them, her large fangs bared. She was ready to bring Lorcan down if he tried to run or try anything that would hurt Darius seriously.

The dragon opened his jaw, apparently ready to send another spike of ice at Lorcan. Instead, the dragon blew a hard gust of icy cold wind that knocked Lorcan backwards and onto his back.

Standing on his hind legs and opening his jaw again; Darius launched a long ice spear at Lorcan.

The roar from behind nearly caused Lorcan to leap out of his skin in surprise. He spun rapidly, only to find a lycanthrope glaring down at him, but focused mostly on the dragon. The dragon... he realized, spinning once again to face the larger menace. He swallowed heavily.

Seconds later, he was blasted to his backside by an icy breath. As he scrambled to his feet, he saw from the corner of his eye the dragon inhaling heavily, and seconds later, sending a large icicle toward him. Whimpering slightly, he dove out of the way and looked up at the dragon. His breathing was heavy as they glared at one another once more.

As they stood in momentary pause, something happened inside Lorcan, something unexpected. A pulsating wave rose from deep within, laced with anger, laced with righteousness, and laced with feral, survivalist behavior. His rage grew deeper as his breathing grew more condensed, his eyes slowly growing to rage. Darius issued a roar, and in that moment, Lorcan replied with his own. He leapt high and clutched upon the dragon's lower jaw, swinging upward with a newfound agility he hadn't known before. He gripped the dragon's scales with sureness and ascended until he was perched on all fours atop the dragon's upper snout, his face merely a few feet from the dragon's eyes. He felt a deep urge to roar at the dragon, but just as he was about to do so, a heavy weight slammed into him.

Hitting the earth with heavy force, Lorcan released a pained oomph, and found himself suddenly pinned by a large scaled paw. His previously building rage gone now; he watched as Darius lowered his menacing jaw as if he were about to tear into the man's head. It was then he heard the man's voice cry out to him in draconian,

"Stop! We were hunting her! The werewolf! We did not know dragons lived in this nation!" Then, the man's voice grew quieter as he resigned to his fate, "Such irony...to be hunting her, and become one myself..."

Darius kept the man pinned to the ground, his jaws mere inches from Lorcan’s face. The male stared down at Lorcan and thought about it. He had heard from one of his daughters that there had been three men watching her eat a bear, all armed with guns and cameras. One Simatarian and two Tarlachians, one of the Tarlachians seemed anxious to nab her as a trophy. Still, when the pups were young it was not uncommon for Amara to come into the barn and watch after the young ones shortly after she moved in with the moonwalkers.

Darius growled deeply to Lorcan in draconian. “Well maybe yes maybe not. I have great respect for the Raxhun though you have yet to prove anything for your people. I’ll leave you to her.”

Darius’s snout pressed softly against Lorcan’s nose, his voice was deeper and filled with anger. “If I find you near the nest, my mate, the eggs…or any of my pups…”

Darius let a gently cold drift from his mouth over Lorcan, freezing his blood and bones. The dragon moved from him and with a last snarl at Lorcan, disappeared off into the forest.

As Lorcan was about to get up, he was pulled back down and almost immediately, he found a naked Amara pinning him against the ground again. Even as the virus worked in his body, giving him more strength as time wore on, he was still a growing newborn compared to Amara’s age. There was still some time before the full moon and even then he would be an easy kill. The only thing she had to worry about was Rikan; that is if she considered looking for him.

Amara grinned at the shock expression he wore when the apparently eighteen year old appeared in front of him nude. “I never liked ruining clothing when you transform and it rips apart. One of the most annoying parts about being a lycanthrope…you go through clothes awful fast.”

She paused. “Lorcan, you are giving me a headache. Out of all my prey you are being the most annoying. I tried to kill you the night I killed your friend Mr. Broody…who tasted quiet good actually…nice and tender. I tried to kill you the next night…but only got McClellan…who was too much like jerky for my taste. Now this comes to you…I have killed many men…some of the toughest hard cases ever. And they go down like deer fawns. You on the other hand…you on other hand have only lived because I had a sudden shocker when my human mind took over as I was preparing to tear your neck out and because I want to rip you apart the second you transform…never eaten a lycan before.

“But, you are getting on my fucking nerves. Now…I have decided to give you a few choices. First…I can turn and kill you now, maybe give you a minute to run. Two…you can stop running and accept you will die in a few days. Or three…if you are a good boy I might consider helping you out with this transformation. That is a massive step up from what I got…which was nothing. I am not offering that because I am charitable…it is because I want you out of my hair and in my belly or out my country with at least a basic knowledge of this curse I have given you.”

Amara slid off Lorcan and took a few steps back and leaned against an oak tree. “So…what is your pick? Remember…it all depends on how I feel. So far you have yet to be a good boy…so start acting like a good puppy to your wolf mom if you want to leave this country alive.”

"Tried to kill me, or didn't want to?" Lorcan retorted with a sarcastic look on his face. "Perhaps you wanted more of this good package, eh?" He gestured to himself with his arms at his sides. He saw the scowl cross her face, and for a moment, he thought she'd just end him right then and there.

Instead, she remained at the tree and raised an eyebrow at him, "Well?" she asked again. "I won't ask you again..." The warning was clear.

Sighing audibly and momentarily regretting having done so due to some bones and muscles that were bruised. He focused his attention on her, "I don't really have a choice...I think you know my answer."

____________________________________________
____________________________________________

One Month Later

It was seven o'clock, and the sun was still barely above the horizon, the skies slowly receeding into the murky depths of the night. Lorcan had been granted some more freedom over the last few weeks, and he had learned all he ever needed to know about lycanthropy, the various strains possible, the weapons used to kill them, and more. Quietly, and somewhat grudgingly, he listened as Amara gave her lessons when she felt like teaching him.

As the weeks passed and the date of the next full moon neared, Amara began to bring more meats from her hunts and leaving them raw. At first, Lorcan had refused to eat it, horrified by the very idea. However, as the minutes, hours, days, and weeks passed, he slowly began to nibble on the meats, gnaw at the bones for sustinence. Strangely, he found himself liking the taste of raw food, so raw it still was filled with natural blood.

Now, Lorcan sat upon a wall on the western edge of the secluded location that he had been living for the last few weeks. He wondered if there had been reports on the missing trio back home. Surely the two businessmen would be missed, but Lorcan? No, Lorcan was still primarily connected to the Raxhun. He wondered if anyone in the Raxhun circles would miss him. He sighed as his mind wandered over these thoughts.

Amara walked through the forest away from her cave in the nude so not to ruin a set of clothing when the change came. She always thought it funny so many girls would complain at the clubs she went to that even if they gained a billionth of a millimeter and their clothes still fit they would have to scrap the whole wardrobe and buy new things. Amara always liked to chuckle and think of how big she got; now there she had good reason to get new clothes.

Though she had taught Lorcan, she was still cold to him and was obviously ready at any time to make him into lunch. She had moved him back into his little cell after his attempted escape, but instead keeping it at room temperature and putting a mattress in. She always made sure he never came upstairs nor saw Tolkien, for fear he might use the little dragon as a bargaining chip. So, as the days brought them closer to the full moon, he became more restless and she moved him to a secluded location deep in the heart of the woods where they would be hunting tonight’s meal, this time it was a brother serial killer team, Ken and Gary Freeman if she recalled. Both thirty five and strong as ox, but they would stand no chance against the werewolves.

She had never told Lorcan that the two businessmen were still listed under missing. That there had been a search of the woods that turned up nothing. Amara was smart enough to know that would happen and so she moved McClellan’s rotting corpse into the cave’s room of bones. There had been a few points drop in stock that was it. The fate of the guide, apparently no one knew who it was so there was some idea he could have killed them or he was also dead. Ideas on what killed them rose of course.

‘The Beast of Clarence’, an unknown creature that had already killed a photographer and possibly the two businessmen. What it was exactly, that was the burning question. There were growing reports of animals that could be dragons up in the high mountain ranges and some even in the forests around Clarence. Though no dragon had been photographed so speculation was still open. Scientist stated if it was a dragon, it probably acted out of self-defense of itself or if they were breeding, their family. Amara did grin at the fact even with only circumstantial evidence, though he knew they were in the Golden Simatar, the President had made them a protected species. Rednecks were up in arms, animal rights groups showered the President with praise. Amara just smiled, she was the beast and was happy in a way something else was taking the rap. Though, she knew all the dragons because of the small population and they knew her, she would tell them what had been going on and thankfully they understood.

Amara walked up behind Lorcan who turned to look at her. She held what appeared to be a large dog shock collar. Amara put it on him with no problem, it hung off him very loosely and if he wanted he could slide his head through. “It is designed so you can grow into it. You cannot think with your human mind, you are too young…so that is to keep you within the boundaries of the hunt…don’t worry…it is about ten square miles around. It works just like a dog collar but on steroids and sends a jolt of electricity into you to keep you inside the hunt area. Since no humans come through here…well, spare for our food tonight and your hunting party...the only other animals are dragons. They can easily defeat you and will defend themselves if necessary.”

Amara knew that he would not attack her when he turned. He was his puppy and she was his mother and considering she didn’t kill Marcus during their hunts, it was oblivious and from talks with other lycans the young have an attachment to the one that turned them and would follow them like good little wolfs. Amara had already planned to put Lorcan on the front, observing him while he brought down his prey before going to get hers. She would drag the screaming man near Lorcan so she could feed while keeping tabs on him. Being that she now thought with her human mind, she didn’t need the collar.

Amara watched as the sun set, her skin tingled with anticipation of the approaching kill. A helicopter would be landing a few miles away a little while after the full moon, Amara looked over at Lorcan and smiled. “I hope you’re ready for your first taste of human flesh.”

As the sky began to darken, Amara’s eyes turned to a pitch black and she roared. Her bones began to snap and twist as the transformation began. Being she was naked, Lorcan could see the movements under her skin as her skin color changed, jet black hair grew, her face was reshaped and her height grew immensely. When she had finished in only a few seconds, there was the lycan who had nearly killed him a month before. But this time, Amara took a step back.

She stared at him and waited for the moon to rise and him to turn.

Lorcan had been barely able to watch Amara change before him to nearly three times her normal size. He had heard her bones crackling loudly as they readjusted themselves; and watched as the muscles expanded exponentially. Her face, once beautiful, now made him shake slightly in discomfort. Once she was finished and had turned her eyes to him, he felt his spine run cold as he remembered that night in which his clients had died--and he so close to death in turn.

Raising a hand to lightly grasp the collar, he pulled it off to look at it. My neck is going to be this large?? he wondered to himself. A slight movement from Amara, and it was back on just as quick. He looked at her neck and swallowed slightly. Guess so... He looked at her teeth and queased slightly once more. He remembered her comment regarding his preparation for the taste of human flesh. Although he had found himself favoring the raw cooked meat over the past month, he didn't think he'd ever get used to the fact that he was eating humans.

Looking up at Amara, whom stood easily taller than him in lycan form, he shook his head, "They're humans! They have souls! This is murder! I can't-I won't do this!"

As if to finalize his position on the matter, he took the collar off and held it out to the side. His fingers released the collar and a split second later, it thumped onto the ground.

The lycan stared back down at him before looking up at the sky and howling. Lorcan shuddered and watched as the creature shrank, reshaped, and Amara was once again by his side, her face red and breathing heavily. Transforming between human and wolf form was very painful and back again so soon was even more painful. If a hiker came by to see a naked teenager faced with a man apparently was middle aged and much stronger, their money would go on him. Course, it was the girl who was the stronger of the pair.

Amara stared at Lorcan and picked up the collar. Her voice was soft, yet held a bit of edge to it. “Do you think of the cow that your steak comes from? Cows have souls you know…lives, feelings, families…to them probably what people do is murder. Yet we don’t think on it, cows are meat and meat is food. Humans are our food; this comes once a month for me…a little treat you might say. All of the humans I have killed spare you clients have murdered raped, molested and done everything in between. And you call this murder? No Lorcan, it is the predator capturing its prey.”

Amara stared at him; much of her humanity towards others was dead. Stephen and Nicole were the only two on the planet she cared for and she knew cared for her. Immortality and loneliness had torn away her innocence. “These murderers we are having tonight…two brothers. They killed thirty people, including a dozen children. We are not murdering Lorcan; we are putting away the trash. They will be our meals for tonight.”

Amara clipped the collar back on and stared back at him. “We are no longer human; murder is no longer in our vocabulary for human-lycan interaction. It is predator and prey. I doubt you think of the cow your steak or you think of the pig your bacon or ribs come from. Do not worry Lorcan; your animal instincts will take over. You will follow your mother to the prey and you will feed. Your human mind will be dead this night, your wolf awakened.”

She gave another grin before stepping back. “Remember our agreement. If you don’t follow me on the hunt, I will have to kill you.”

Amara roared and her bones snapped away as she retook her wolf shape. She stared down at her pup and waited.

Grudgingly, Lorcan closed his eyes as he weighed the new information she had given him about the prey soon to arrive. He looked up at her burly lycan form and exhaled slowly as he tried to grasp his own body becoming similar. As he stood there thinking, Amara turned her head to the east and growled softly, pointing toward the horizon. Lorcan followed her pointed gaze and widened his eyes as the edge of the moon crept into view.

At first, nothing happened, and Lorcan began to wonder if he'd feel anything. Amara's eyes were upon him now, and just as he looked to her, he suddenly collapsed to the earth, his legs curled underneath him as he lay on his backside. He began to breathe harder as he suddenly screamed in agony. His torso bent backward, thrusting his abdomen skyward, his ribs noticeably expanding, even with the shirt he wore. Fingers curled into fists, grasping the dirt and grass beneath him. His muscles, he felt expanding, tearing free of their human assembly and readjusting to the lycan form coming alive from within. He gasped as his eyes opened and took in the shadows nearby in startling clarity. As he attempted to rise to his feet, he was shocked to see large tuffs of coarse hair growing rapidly from all over his body. Grasping the shirt that now tightly wrapped around his torso, he tore it free and groaned as the next set of changes began. He felt his ears migrating upward and elongating themselves.

He felt a tight constriction around his waist and without thinking, he tore it easily from his body, the fabric tearing willingly under his strong clawed fingers. Falling to the earth, his claws gouged the earth as his growing snout buried into the soil. He inhaled and found an incredibly rich array of scents flooding his senses. At last, he collapsed fully to the ground and lay there for a moment as the pain of transformation slowly died away. His ragged breathing seemed incredibly loud to him, and he could hear and smell Amara nearby. Her feminine scent intrigued his primal instincts and he looked up at her through dark onyx eyes lined with a golden halo around the edges. He glanced down at his fur that now coated him liberally, and could see that he sported all black fur. A bulkiness over his larnyx caused him to feel with his fingers the collar that now fit snugly on him. His fingers were too large now to even hope taking it off.

Rising to his hind legs, he growled softly to Amara, his maw of canines seen from behind black leathery lips. He felt hunger, and he desired sustinence. He growled again at Amara, and released a short bark.

His eyes then looked past her, focusing upon the moon now clearly over the horizon and ascending its nightly path across the heavens. A few seconds later, he found himself suprisingly inhaling deeply and releasing a long and deep howl unto the night sky.

Amara stared at Lorcan as he released his howl into the sky. He was ready, now a full wolf she would lead him to his first real meal. She grunted at him, causing him to look at her. Amara tilted her head and took off into the woods on her hind legs, Lorcan following close behind. She knew he would need to feed soon and she did too, feeling pangs of hunger shooting through her body. Off in the distance, she heard what sounded like a crack of a gun and hoped that the VIB agents didn’t kill their prey.

Amara paused and sniffed the air; the gentle breeze carried the smell of humans and blood. With the direction in mind, she took off again with Lorcan, her nose easily sniffing out the humans. Stopping near the crest of a hill, she moved forward and stared through the bushes. Down the slope below in a dried up river bed were two men in orange jumpsuits, one had a bullet in his leg…the wounded would be Lorcan’s as it was his first hunt.


“God dammit that fucking cop!” Ken Freeman snarled angrily as he clutched his bleeding leg. He was six five with buzzed cut blonde hair and thick muscles. The police had let them off the helicopter to piss and the con had tried to make a grab for the officer’s UMP and had gotten a round in the leg. His brother Gary had grabbed the cuff keys from the cop and knocked the cop back into the helicopter with a single punch, breaking the man’s nose and probably giving him a concussion. The other police officer had fired a few rounds at them, missing for some reason and he had limped into the forest with Gary’s help.

Gary had unlocked their cuffs and ripped a piece of his suit and tied it around his brother’s leg. He was six six with muscles just as thick as Ken’s and blonde hair. They were twins and had grown up in a rough neighborhood. At a young age they noticed crime to be a fun thing and had plotted the death of one girl ever since the eighth grade. They celebrated their high school graduation by drugging, raping, and then slicing her head of with a saw. Gary looked at his brother. “Hold still man, I’ll be right back. Maybe I can find a bit of wood to use a crutch or find a camper.”

“Well hurry back man I don’t like this shit.”

“Ten minutes dawg.”


Amara watched as one of them moved into the woods, her prey. She would flank this one and catch the other one and drag him back to the river bed; or ambush him when he heard Lorcan attack his brother. Amara looked at Lorcan and grunted, indicating that the wounded creature in the riverbed was to be his. She had confidence her pup would bring the man down, he was injured and couldn’t run so Lorcan would hopefully have an easy time.

Amara stepped back and began to slowly move through the bushes down the hill to flank the man and attack his brother.

Lorcan sniffed the air, then froze as he smelled something entirely new--and entirely intoxicating. Blood. He drew the smell in deeply and released a growl as he became excited about the impending hunt. In a flash, he was gone through the foliage right behind Amara, moving quickly until they drew near the two men. Watching from the top of the hill as one of the men walked off on his own, he watched as Amara stole quietly after him on all fours, her nose low to the earth.

Turning his attention back to the other man in the riverbed, he released another soft growl as saliva dripped slowly from his jaws. Adopting the same hunting pattern as Amara, he dropped to all fours and moved down the hill and closer to his prey. Suddenly, as he drew near, the man looked up in his direction, his eyes wide as he attempted to find out the slight noise he had heard.

Overhead, the birds and creatures of the night had fallen silent as they watched with somber resplendence at the hunt that was taking place.

"Who's there?!" the man called out with a somewhat shaky tone in his voice. It seemed he wasn't too fond of the darkness that surrounded him. He rose to his feet as he felt the hairs on his neck rising. He was being watched, his instincts told him, but by what, he didn't know.

Not more than twenty feet away and about a quarter turn away from the man, Lorcan steadied himself, pumping his muscles with adrenaline. Then, with a loud snarling, he surged forth and leapt upon the man, knocking him to the ground and ripping his canines into the man's side. Ken screamed in terrifying pain as he struggled to free himself from his unknown assailant, yet when he looked down briefly while struggling, he saw his innards being pulled out with vicious claws that looked vaguely human in appearance. Suddenly, he was lifted free of the earth, flipped over, and slammed back down again.

It was then that Ken finally saw the face of his assailant, and he screamed in terror once more. Ceasing his vicious biting, Lorcan looked up at the man and growled, spewing blood and bits of flesh onto Ken's face. A second later, his teeth were buried into Ken's face, tearing apart the flesh and cracking open the skull with tremendous force. The screams died instantly and the body fell limp within moments. Satisfied, Lorcan continued to gnaw the raw flesh, tearing the organs free and munching upon them, before focusing upon the flesh itself.

Gary stopped and spun around at the screaming of his brother. “Ken!”

The man grabbed a large branch from the ground and took off back to his brother. Mountains lions, bears, wolves or any God damn animal was trying to go to work on him. Gary pounded through the forest, his eye caught a flicker of movement to his left and he spun to greet his assailant, only to be knocked down by something…big.

He shook his head as he stared at the creature as it rose from an awkward four legs position to a biped standing. Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph… Gary staggered to his feet, the branch feeling a lot smaller and more like a twig compared to the thing before him. He swung at the creature, putting every ounce of his muscular body behind it. If had been a man to receive the blow, their skull would have been split wide open.

Gary’s arms shuddered, he grunted and stared at the monster, one of its hands firmly holding the branch. The creature snarled and ripped the branch from his hands and swung it back at him, hitting him in the side and sending him into a tree. As he tried to get up, he felt teeth dig into his ankle and a blood curdling scream issued from his lips as he was dragged through the woods by the thing.

He tried to grasp something, anything to stop the movement. As the brush cleared, he found himself in the riverbed and to his horror found Ken being devoured by another one of the monsters. Gary screamed as he felt the claws slash his gut open, his organ bathed in blood sitting out there the open.


Amara dug in, tearing out large chunks of tender meat, savoring the sweet taste of human again. She ripped out the liver and held it in her hands, her teeth going to work on the meat.

The female stared at Lorcan as she chewed the meat, glad to see he was enjoying his meal.

Amara belched as she finished with the leg. She had to admit the human was fairly tender and was very filling. Her black eyes turned to Lorcan; her pup was idly nibbling on the rib cage of his victim, trying to get the last bits of meat from them. The older lycan barked at him, he looked up and followed suite as she grabbed the half eaten leg of her victim in one claw and drug the corpse through the woods.

Having to keep track of Lorcan and his progress slowed Amara, but the eventually reached her cave. Going down the main tunnel, they were dumped into the bone room. Tearing one last piece of meat from the convict, she hurled the corpse onto one of the piles of hundreds of skeletons. Lorcan did the same and looked around the room; Amara knew this sight would probably come back to him when the memories began to return.

Normally, she would go into the other tunnel to her small living space but decided to instead straight home. So, the lycans took off into the woods again, Amara in the lead.

When they reached the field near the farm, the lycans paused and Amara turned back into her human form. She turned and looked up at Lorcan; her hand gently stroked his massive cheek and jaw. “I am so proud of you. You will make a great hunter.”

The sky was turning bluer by the minute and Amara removed her hand as Lorcan began to roar and spasm as his body violently turned him back into a man. His sweaty, bloody, and naked form lay before her. Amara bent down and picked Lorcan up with ease. She carried him back down into the tunnels, back into the room where she had brutally tortured him barely a month ago.

The room’s only real addition was a cot and some spare clothes Amara had bought in preparation for the night. A pair of blue jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. She laid him down on the cot and smiled. “You rest now.”

Amara left Lorcan but made sure to securely fasten the door so he couldn’t leave. Exhausted, she headed upstairs to bed.

Lorcan awoke with a start, his heart pounding as the images in his mind still ran hotly through his memories. It was now at least a half day later after sunrise, well into mid-afternoon, and even now, he could still hear the screaming. He could also taste the bloody bile coming up slightly from his stomach.

Pushing himself off of the cot and onto the floor, he remained on all fours as he felt his stomach churning violently as it reversed the flow of sustenence and spewed upon the concrete floor. After a minute or so of this, he stood up shakily and promptly collapsed back to the floor, curling his legs up close to his body and wrapping his arms around them. He rocked slightly as he struggled to grasp the atrocity he had committed.

And yet, there was something else. While he was sickened by what had transpired the previous night, he felt something else...

He felt alive...

Amara groaned as she felt something nudging her. She rolled over in her bed and shifted slightly. She felt the nudging again followed by whimpering. She groaned and rolled over onto her stomach. She felt something climbing onto her back and her hair began to tug at her scalp. It stopped and the whimpering came back. With another groan, Amara lifted her head up and rolled over to see Tolkien climbing off her moving body and sitting next to her in bed.

Its little tail flew a mile a minute as it slapped its front paws onto the blankets and gave a squeal. Amara stared at the dragon, she loved the little thing but it was sometimes annoying as hell. She rolled out of bed, literally and onto the floor. Laying there for a few minutes, Amara slowly dragged herself up and with a quick, cold shower to wake herself up she came back into the room and put on a pair of black shorts and a black t-shirt.

“Come on shithead.”

Tolkien followed her, fluttering next to her head as she went down the spiral staircase and into the family room. She went to the refrigerator and removed a buffalo steak and put it on a plate, Tolkien was sitting on the counter, licking his lips. Amara put the plate on the floor and the little dragon was soon all over it.

Now that he was fed, she went to the tunnel entrance, opened and shut the door behind her so he couldn’t follow. She went to Lorcan’s cell, unlocked the door and entered, shutting it behind her. Amara sat on a box as Lorcan began to wake.

“How do you feel?”

"I feel...strange." Lorcan replied as he rose and seated himself upon the bed again. He gave a quick glance to the puke upon the floor. "I'll have to clean that up later..." he muttered to himself.

Returning his attention back to her, he exhaled slightly, "Just...I've got these memories. The men dying. The taste of blood." He looked down at the bile again. "I loved it...I couldn't stop."

He rose to his feet and looked firmly at her, "But, I'm ok with it. They are, after all, criminals. Just promise me one thing. I want you to tell me why they are to die. All right?"

*****************************

Somewhere in Nosgah City, Tarlachia

A pair of leather boots, well worn and used, clacked quietly on the ground as they carried the owner past the entryway of a night-club. She did not have to remain in line and pay her way. She was one of the club's hired undercover bouncers, one that catered specially to the creatures of fantastic design. Club owners often hired people like her to patrol their masses, for none wanted blood spilled on their property. They preferred to remain out of the legal limelight, and she was one to maintain that preference.

Inside, she strode to the bar, seating herself upon a stool there. "Hey Mick," she called, watching as the barkeep turned and smiled at her, "Coming right up." he replied, mixing her drink and sliding down the bar toward her. "Lookin' for some hot ass tonight eh?"

Rikan gave him a grin, "Yep. Seems like there's plenty of fresh meat here tonight."

The barkeep nodded, "Aye. It appears to be so." He moved further down the bar answering more requests for liquors. She took her drink and turned around, propping her elbows on the edge of the bar. Slowly, she scanned the people dancing, those that walked or milled about, and those that were near the stage where tonight's band was setting up for their midnight concert.

As she continued to scan the crowds, she noticed a single man standing off to the side, casually scanning the night's crowd himself, as if he were searching for someone. Gotcha... she thought to herself as she stood up straight and adjusted the bottom edge of her all black teeshirt and ensured that her hunting knife was on her belt attached to her shorts.

Winding her way away from the man, so as to appear uninterested in him, she circled about the long way and came up behind him. The knife was planted firmly at the man's spine, between the third and fourth vertabrae on the lower part of his neck. Her voice called out to him, "I'd recommend some vodka mix, rather than what you're thinking." She felt him shift slightly as if he were about to turn and attack. "Don't try it. I'll disable all capability to move if you do. Now, I want you to withdraw your identification, open it, and hold it out for me to see. Now."

Amara turned her nose up as Lorcan vomited; at least after her first hunt she resisted doing that. She nodded at the memories, just like she had, coming back in flashes and the taste lingering the mouth. She looked at him as he questioned her. Amara leaned back against the wall.

“Well, everyone I eat is on death row from everything from raping small children, cannibalism, mass murder…name the crime I have eaten someone who has done it. That is all you really need to know. None of them have families nor people who care about them, that is why I get them. My first victim wasn’t a criminal though, he was a hunter…got him in Assington my first transformation. Human is a once a month deal so I usually grill myself a steak or go out and forage. I must say I was impressed by the way you hunted, it was quick, efficient and wonderfully painful for the man.”

Amara paused. “To give you a wee idea of how many I have killed…remember the cave? The room of bones?”

Lorcan shuddered as a memory came back of looking at a massive cave room filled wall to wall and high up with skeletons. Amara looked at him. “Hundreds…my justification for that is I am saving the government millions by eating them and so they don’t have to care for them any more. Now…what would you like to know about your new species?”


The man grunted as he felt the blade touch his neck. He was sitting on a chair next to a table, waiting for an old friend to show up. His cobalt blue eyes shifted to one of many mirrors on the walls and ceiling and he saw who it was. “Fucking hell…”

He sighed and the first thing to land on the table next to him was a crimson red stone of a dragon with a white gold chain. “Ms. Tansho, I won’t play dumb and I won’t play games…considering you have a knife at my neck and considering you put the boogeyman to shame in the vampire community. My first question is why would I want to feed on one of these young people if I have a bloodstone?”

“Yet…” He felt the blade twist slightly. “I will get my ID.”

The vampire kept one hand on the table and the other on his left knee. A wallet was mentally pulled from his black, leather trenchcoat and was dropped into Rikan’s free hand. The vampire sat quietly as Rikan opened it. It had some Tarlachian currency inside, but it also had some new issue blue Simatarian bills. The human slipped an old metallic red military ID card from a pocket in the wallet. Her eyes were drawn to the location on the card. Kriegspiel Special Operations Base: Republic of the Golden Simatar.

SGT. Stephen Malone- Alpha Company was written in the name spot and his photograph was in the center of the card.

Stephen Malone spoke again. “Needless to say I haven’t used that in thirteen hundred years. I think I also have a Tarlachian vampire ID in there too if you want more confirmation.”

"Kriegspiel Special Forces, are they still active?" she asked as she removed the knife from his neck, and taking another glance at the bloodstone. She picked it up and studied it. She looked at it for a moment more, then looked up at him again,

"Why are you here then if it's not to hunt? Who's meeting you?" Her hand held up the bloodstone, "And where'd you get this?"

****************************

Lorcan shuddered as the memory of the bone cave returned once again. He thought for a moment, then asked, "How many of us are out there?"

He wondered about this, wondered about how many lycans were in use by various governments for tasks such as these.

Stephen grunted at the mention of his old military base. “Kriegspiel is the base. The Airborne, Rangers, and Lord knows what black ops the government has along with supporting aircraft are station there. Yes…it is still active. Though as you can see I am no longer in the military. After the battle of Clarence some years ago my kind aren’t really welcome in the Golden Simatar. That is the last time any vampire force has tried to pull a stunt like that…they can handle the Assington VP no problem…but crack military soldiers with state of the art equipment and tanks? Not a chance.”

Stephen looked back at Rikan as she kept up with her little interrogation. Before he could speak, he turned a voice called out to him. “Hey Stephen how holy hell…”

The other vampire walking towards them, a grin had been on his face until he saw Rikan and his face turned an even paler white and the vampire bid a hasty retreat. Stephen looked at the human. “Well I was meeting a friend I hadn’t seen in a few centuries. You know you really are a party pooper…you know that right?”

Stephen looked at his bloodstone. They were very rare and highly valued, so it was no surprise to him she would be questioning him about it. “If you must know I bought it a few months after I turned. Bought it in Turath for a few thousand, very expensive but it pays for itself. So Ms. Tansho, what can I do for you this fine evening? Do you wish me to leave this establishment or can I relax here for a wee bit?”


Amara shrugged. “Oh…thousands…maybe a million or two I dunno. I am not talking just about werewolves you see. There are weretigers, werepanthers, werebears and so on and so forth. I am the only one native to this land.”

Amara looked at him. “Immortality is a bitch…there is no masking it. It might be fun for a decade or two, but after some years…it starts to wear on you. Truthfully, it sucks ass. Though, one keeps going in hopes of finding something better.”

Rikan kept a neutral gaze upon the newcomer, noting he was vampiric as well. Considering he was acknowledged by Stephen, she restrained from delivering a few well-meaning words that she would have typically given to vampires in a setting like this.

A few seconds later, the lights suddenly dimmed, then the room became flooded with an array of colored lights moving about. A fast-paced rock solo began to play, and after about a minute of this, the rest of the band launched in with their own instruments.

Taking a moment to appreciate the music, Rikan turned back to Stephen, briefly noting the other vampire had disappeared. She didn't worry about him. It was clear she had been recognized. The vampire wouldn't hunt in here, not with her nearby. She waved a waitress over, ordering another round of drinks for herself. A hardy drinker, she had often been challenged to drinking contests, and often won them. Her method of winning was purely based on her ability to mentally remain focused. It was a skill honed from years of policing the underworld, and a skill honed in mercenary missions at home and abroad. Once she was finished ordering, she turned to Stephen,

"Actually, you can stay. I've got a few questions you might be able to help me out with. About a month ago, a cousin of mine, a hunting guide for paying clients, took a pair of men with him into the Golden Simatar. They were following reports of dangerous creatures lurking about, snatching up unsuspecting victims. Anyway, they were only supposed to be gone a week, week and a half at most. It's been three weeks past their due return. I've attempted to raise Lorcan up on his satcell, but he's not responding. In fact, I keep getting "unavailability" automated messages. Now, for a satcell to give that kind of message to incoming calls, it means something's either internally wrong with the phone itself..or there's a larger problem outside the phone."

Taking her drink as the waitress returned, she handed the woman a few bills. "Thanks." She waited until the woman was out of hearing once again.

"Knowing Lorcan, he would have bought the top of the line equipment, and such failure would have been near impossible."

She leaned forward toward Stephen, "I suspect that Lorcan may be in a bit more trouble than he could have handled, and so, considering he's family, I've gotta find out what the hell is going on."

She took the drink and swallowed half of it in a single gulp, shaking her head slightly from the burn down her throat. She smiled slightly, enjoying it. Then, the smile disappeared as she looked at Stephen again, "I was hoping you might know anything else that might be relevant?"

*******************************

"Millions?" Lorcan asked in slight disbelief, "Strange that I've never met one yet. At least not until a month ago." He brooded upon the different species mentioned. It seemed that there could be weres of just about any creature in existence.

"So...what now?" he asked at last. He wanted to get out of this room, "I'd like to see what else this place has to offer." He noted the concern in her look, adding in quickly, "I'll be good. Promise."

Stephen turned his nose up as Rikan began to drink. He had been a horrible alcoholic during the last few years of his mortal human life. It had been one of the reasons causing his first marriage to crumble and his life to collapse. He had not touched a single drop of alcohol since he was twenty-nine. He then became interested as she began to talk about a cousin of hers leading a hunting party into the Golden Simatar. He nearly laughed at her asking him for help.

“You? Rikan Tansho? Feared slayer of vampires and other immortals asking a vampire for aid? Now under normal circumstances I would of course turn you down and call you a damn fool. But, I am a vampire who is far more human than vampire.”

Stephen rapped his fingers on the table and thought for a long while. “He is probably dead. Now here me out before you start pulling that knife out again. Not known to the rest of my countrymen is the fact there is a slowly growing population of dragons…Tarlachian ice dragons to be specific that are making their homes in the mountains and valleys of my land. I know this because my pet dragon is the mother of the first generation of Simatarian Ice Dragon…nice ring to it ain’t it?

“Well, currently there is a hail storm of what ‘strange looking and possibly dangerous critters’ are roaming the land that have never been seen before. There have been many science expeditions and hunting parties of rednecks looking for them. Some believe it is dragons and others think they are something else…none of the dragons have been photographed in its natural environment, though some reports from hikers indicate they have begun to breed and have their own nesting sites and pups. Reports also vary on their behavior from ignoring you to moving away or even roaring and doing mock charges to chase people away. My guess is that your cousin and his two clients stumbled upon a nest or a family. Of course you Raxhun and Tarlachians in general have a great respect for these beasts…but I imagine his clients were eager for a trophy and opened up. So, my guess is that they were killed by some parents protecting their pups against the men with guns.”

Stephen looked at Rikan and he allowed her to digest what he said. “Now I am done with my dragon rant…lets open the floor. Did your cousin mention anything else about what they were to hunt?”


Amara looked at Lorcan, he was fully transformed and her puppy, still she felt a bit defensive. More for the location of the farm over anything else. “Wait here.”

Amara left and returned ten minutes later. She motioned for him to come and he followed her down the tunnels and up a flight of stairs that still had some dried blood from when he was first brought here on them. They ended up in an old shack and Amara opened the door, revealing a silver BMW. She put Lorcan in the passenger seat and took the driver’s.

“Put your head down and tuck yourself down so you won’t be seen and can’t see.”

Amara watched as Lorcan did as she asked and she drove the car down the small dirt road, past the farm house, down the long gravel drive and onto the highway. It wasn’t till they were a few miles down did she look at Lorcan.

“You can look up now. I am just a bit paranoid and want to keep the location of my home safe and secure. I’ll be taking you to Clarence to show you around. Sound good?”

Shaking her head negatively, Rikan looked like she was slightly irritated. It seemed that whenever she was onto a lead, there was an obstacle soon to follow. In this case, it was her lack of information told to her by Lorcan.

Settling back into her seat, she ran her finger around the edge of the glass, creating a humming sound vibrating from the glass. A minute later, she took a liberal drink and spoke up,

"Perhaps you might be willing to help me find him? After all, it's your turf."

**************

Lorcan looked slightly confused at Amara, then chuckled aloud. "Paranoid? You're a goddamn werewolf! What do you have to be afraid of? Me? I'm honored really, but come on...you and I both know that couldn't do that, for I'd be indicting myself in the process. There's no point in that. I wouldn't benefit in any way."

He glanced sideways to the sideview mirror, studying the trail behind them, the light cloud of dust in their wake back on the dirt road. The wind was light today, but not strong enough to make the dust blow away in the breeze. He remembered the bumps in the road, the approxmation of the car's speed and approximately the distance they had traveled based on the time used until they had gotten to the highway. All of these were second nature to him, general skills that were trained in all Raxhun civilians. There was a saying that passed between them often while in training, If you consistently take notes on your surroundings, you'll never be lost.

Looking back at her after a moment, he chimed in again, "You have my promise I won't endanger your home. If I break that promise, then you're free to kill me off. God knows you're capable of it anyway."

Stephen blinked, what else could he do? Here he was, a vampire talking to probably the most feared vampire hunter in these lands and she was asking for his help. It was the strangest thing in his life next to having his fiftieth birthday and realizing he still looked twenty-nine. This was one of those ‘I need to pinch myself to see if I am dreaming moments’, but Stephen didn’t have to pinch himself, he wasn’t dreaming, this was really happening.

As he looked at her knock down some more alcohol, he knew she must be pretty desperate to find Lorcan to ask a vampire for his help. Stephen believed that Lorcan and his clients were dead or lost in the forests somewhere in the Golden Simatar. Well, that isn’t going to be much help. For all he knew they could be outside of Clarence to far up in the northern reaches of the nation near the snow peaked caps of the Barishu Mountains.

“Alright Ms. Tansho I’ll have a look.” Stephen moved his sleeve to check his watch, his mind automatically did the math for the time zones. As he didn’t really travel outside of the Golden Simatar, Tarlachia and Assington, he had everything known by heart…heck his life depended on perfect timing with the sunset and sunrise. “I can kill another hour or so here before taking a plane back home, I should land after nightfall and in safety.”

He looked over at her and gave her a grin, his fangs changing color with the lights on the ceiling and walls. “I’ll do my best Ms. Tansho. It may take a while, the Golden Simatar is a large country and the dragon populations are spread out as it is virgin lands. So how can I contact you when I do find something?”


Amara didn’t seem to pay attention to Lorcan as she drove down the highway. She finally spoke after sometime. “It isn’t me I am worried about, it’s the VIB.”

“The VI…wha…” Lorcan tried to start, obviously confused how the VIB came into the picture.

Amara started talking again, occasionally looking over at him. “As you can guess I live on a farm, what you never saw was a small house. Two VIB agents live there. It operates as a horse farm, but that is a cover. The VIB agents run the farm and they also guard it from intruders. If they saw you riding out with me do you know how much shit will be suddenly thrown around against me and my parents?”

“Your parents…I thought…”

“Dead? Yeah, my biological mom and dad are dead. My vampire mom and dad of course are not.” Amara looked over at Lorcan; it was obvious the Tarlachian was confused by her words. “Let me explain. After I came home to find my family murdered by Marcus and after I blew his head clean across the room I was hiding in the pantry when he came. Stephen Malone, the Golden Simatar’s first vampire.

“He and his wife Nicole took me in…my new family. They’ve taught me, loved me…just like my old mom and dad. Let me go into a bit of history about Stephen. If you check your Tarlachian history books about thirteen hundred years back you will see there was a vampire revolt…Stephen was traveling through the country at the time and got swept up in it. He was human then, but was bitten…just bitten mind you. For a thousand years he was a human immortal, vampire saliva mixing with something in his blood that twisted his body enough to make him a half vampire in a sense. So, three hundred years ago…he finally became a vampire.

“About twenty years or so before I was born he was discovered. The story leaked…all hell apparently broke loose. Terrorist tried to knock over the government saying they could protect us from vampires…they were crushed quickly and Stephen was let go...under the cover of course of escape A few years later, a rogue group of vampires from Assington attacked a small town up north hearing we didn’t really know much about vampires. Our first tango with vamps…most of the military platoon sent to destroy them were killed…but all the vampires were killed. It was the first time he appeared as a murderer, coming back here to exact vengeance against the government. Bullshit, he is more human than any vampire before or since. Then, when I was eighteen…Battle of Clarence.

“Over the course of two night’s vampires seeking revenge against him for aiding a friend’s coven in the Fourth Assington Vampire War battled with police and army units. Christ…it was a fucking slaughter. Off the top of my head I know almost a thousand…eleven hundred humans if not more were killed. We spent the next five…six years hunting down the remaining vampires who fled the after we defeated them. The vampire dead were gathered for ID, in part for the VP advisors to cross off any those on their most wanted list…and us…to see if Stephen was among the dead. Again…he was marked as a murderer. Bullshit.

“Well, time to come around I guess. A few weeks before the battle, he was found by the President living in Tarlachia. He was offered to come back and live here in secrecy, his and Nicole’s existence known only to the Prez, Joint Chiefs, the heads of IBI and VIB and of course the two agents to protect the farm.”

Amara paused and took a breath. She had said a lot and knew it was for the best, letting Lorcan get up to speed on things and hopefully understand her situation a bit more. “I couldn’t let you be seen because the VIB would find this strange and call Stephen and Nicole…who are in Tarlachia visiting old friends. Stephen is nice…I love him and I love Nicole. It is known that your clients are possibly dead…course the VIB knows of the dragons…the general population thinks dragons may exist…but they don’t know. It is believed that the businessmen anxious for a trophy opened up on a family group and the parents killed them in defense of their young. If they saw you, they would know it was me who killed those men and they would be quick to make the connection you might be a werewolf yourself.

“I want to keep you a bit of a secret as long as I can, at least till mom and dad gets home. They’ll know what to do.”

Amara fell silent. There was an odd silence that followed and she pressed PLAY on the CD player, U2 gently wafted through the speakers and Amara quietly sang the lyrics of Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own as she waited for Lorcan to think and respond to her brief history lesson.

Lorcan's head rested against the headrest as his fingers drummed the window sill of the car. As he digested the history lesson that Amara had given him, he finally looked over at her.

"All right. You're the boss." he said quietly. He couldn't do anything else, and she understood the situation a bit better than he did, despite having just taught him about the background in detail.

Stephen sighed as Rikan drank some more alcohol. The vampire stood and looked at her. His mind gently reached out and touched her own, gently feeling her brainwaves. The human, though she had been drinking suddenly looked up at him and her hand going to her knife. Stephen put out his hand, palm outward.

“Easy there. I am just checking your brainwaves so I can send you a message of what I found. I do not mean to sound callous and cold, but don’t get your hopes up. They are probably dead, but I will try. If something turns up, I’ll shoot ya a message. Have a good night Ms. Tansho.”

The vampire smiled at her and walked around the edge of the dance floor and out of the building into the cool night air. Stephen walked for a few blocks before reaching a hotel. He went up to his room and when he opened the door, he was greeted by steam collecting at the base of the door to the bathroom. The vampire grinned and shut the door.

He leaned against the wall and waited several minutes, a woman was humming in the bathroom and within a few moments the door opened. A vampiress standing five eleven with light brown hair and green eyes with a towel wrapped around her body smiled at Stephen. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you come in.”

Stephen grinned as he scooped his wife and second fledgling Nicole off her feet and kissed her. “Well, I was kinda hoping to spook you.”

Nicole smiled and kissed him back as he carried her to the bed. “I thought you were still going to be at the club with Kenneth, I would have been there in a few.”

“Things…came up.” Stephen said as he put her down. He removed his trenchcoat and the ever present arm pit holsters with his Para P14 automatics in them. “I had an interesting encounter with Rikan Tansho. She of course assumed I was hunting for a nice young girl for dinner and not meeting an old friend. Here is where things get funny. She asked for my help.”

Nicole sat up in the bed and moved the wet strands of hair from her face. “Rikan Tansho…asked for your help? For what exactly?”

“Seems she has a cousin who took a few clients out to be hunting some unknown animals in the Golden Simatar.” Stephen looked at Nicole who sighed and gave a nod. He continued to talk as he walked over to a small refrigerator and removed a bottle of blood and two glasses. “And she hasn’t heard from him in a month. My guess is…”

“That their dead?” Nicole asked as she took the glass and took a sip of the crimson liquid. She liked her blood warm, but slightly chilled was nice every so often. “Cassandra’s pups got them?”

“Most likely.” Stephen said as he sat on the bed with her. “If they ran into a family…Tarlachians have a great respect for our scaly friends but rich dudes are a whole nuther species. They probably wanted a trophy and of course not knowing it would take a few tanks to bring down a dragon…they got killed. Problem is Rikan doesn’t know where in the Golden Simatar they went hunting.”

Nicole sighed and took another sip of blood. “This is gonna be interesting. Well, Cassandra is laid up with another batch of pups in her and Darius is sticking close to her so we gotta do this without them I guess. I’ll take the Glothlin Mountains; you can take the Barishu Mountains…Amara I guess can search the woods. We just have to start asking questions. What if we find them alive? Be hard to explain we are friends and not going to eat them.”

“I don’t think we will, but we can always wipe their minds or twist it to make it look like we are human. I got Rikan’s brain wave so I’ll be able to tell her we found him alive…or the parts they didn’t like.” Stephen paused as he sipped some blood from his glass. “We got about an hour or so before we can leave with the safety of landing in darkness back home.”

Nicole smiled as she put down her glass. “Excellent. I got time to show you a few things I got for myself and some things for Amara. Some nice Elf jewelry.”

Stephen smiled as Nicole got up to dress and present what she had bought.


Amara was quiet as they entered the capital city. Amara liked Clarence, it was a nice city, there was no fear of getting killed by a vampire and she could always hop onto the metro to get around. She first drove straight to the heart of the city, planning to work her way outward. In the heart of Clarence was the government district. She spent just over an hour driving and walking Lorcan around, pointing out the White House, the Congressional Building and Representative and Senate Offices, along with various government agencies’ headquarters.

She drove him around the entertainment district with various movie and play theaters, some small production company offices and agent offices. Amara pointed out some parks and the University of Clarence campus and the Natural History Museum. After nearly a three hour tour, she parked in a parking building. Across the street was a nightclub called Young Blood.

“I think it is time for a drink. You feel like one?”

Lorcan nodded positively as he studied the nightclub's exterior. As expected, there were a few men inside the doors talking amongst themselves and occassionally checking IDs and accepting entry fees. He looked over at Amara and held a hand toward the nightclub across the street.

"Ladies first." he said with a slight grin. It wasn't a grin of dark nature, but rather otherwise. As she had given him the tour of Clarence, he found himself thinking to himself about his situation. Whilst in the back of his mind he didn't like how things had gone terribly wrong-so off-course from the plan set down a month ago- he found that was a thought that was steadily shrinking into oblivion. A new adventure this would be, one that would require him to abandon most if not all of his former lifestyle. Born into a society of hunters, he had become the prey and simultaneously a greater hunter.

As she led the way across the street, Lorcan's face grew slightly solemn as he wondered about his family back home. If anyone was coming to find him, they'd send the best, and the best was Rikan. He wondered if he'd be forced to fight his cousin in order to protect Amara. Surprsingly, he found himself feeling protective of Amara. He wasn't sure where this feeling came from, however he attributed it to his newly created relation to the elder lycan.

Passing through the doors within a few minutes, they made their way inside where they were greeted to the sound of screeching guitars and heavy bass. Without much hesitation, Lorcan clapped his ears with his hands, wincing slightly from the noise sensitivity he was experiencing. His teeth bared slightly indicating his discomfort. Hardly a second later, he felt a hand on his arm, causing him to open his eyes and look into Amara's face. Her other hand held a pair of ear plugs in her open palm. She mouthed something, but he couldn't make out what was said, although he understood her intent. Her eyes clearly demonstrated her understanding of his problem. Taking the plugs and quickly putting them into his ears, he found the noise dramatically lowered to reasonable toleration levels.

He watched as she too inserted plugs into her ears. For a brief moment, he wondered where she had gotten the plugs from, but then saw a bin of small packages with ear plugs inside, sitting on the table next to the door.

"Bloody loud!" he stated to her, unsure if she could hear him. He indicated toward the bar with a hand, "Shall we?"

Amara liked the club. It was one of her favorite spots, mostly because it was the only one in the whole damn city where she could buy a drink. It was still a bitch looking like a teenager and being decades old and not being able to buy even a beer. The club was also very loud, something that was a bit of a pain to her. She, like Lorcan had the problem with high pitch noises, another bitch when she was walking down the street and someone blew a dog whistle. Times like that, she had to clench her teeth and restrain every fiber in her body telling her rip the throat out of the human.

She grabbed ear plugs for herself and Lorcan. They deafened the noise to tolerable but conversation could be conducted at a normal level. Threading their way through dozens of young couples dressed in everything from denim to latex and took the far two chairs at the end of the bar. They ordered their drinks and when they arrived, Amara sipped her Flint Firebrand Whiskey carefully. She coughed as the volatile liquid went down her throat.

“God damn that is good stuff. Dad doesn’t like me drinking at home. I gotta sneak it, even a beer or something like that. He used to be an alcoholic after his military career. Has not touched one drop in thirteen hundred years.”

Amara spoke in a low tone so Lorcan was the only one to hear and any humans who took nearby seats at tables or at the bar wouldn’t hear. The lycan took another sip of Firebrand.

“Lorcan, I gotta know something. What was it like growing up as Raxhun? I mean…I have heard you guys are a bit backwards in terms of lifestyle. I mean…how could…or why would you live like that when there is so much the world has to offer? It does not make sense to me.”

"Backwards?" Lorcan repeated with a laugh, "Not at all. You see...Raxhun are humans with exceptional strength and endurance that normal humans. A sort of slight evolution if you will, perhaps extending as far back as prehistoric man. We've learned to fuse both modern technology with long-established hunting patterns, and we've learned skills of great use: stealth, espionage, hunting, hand-to-hand combat, and more."

He took a swallow of the draft beer he had ordered before continuing, "Foreigners relate them in crude terms such as 'elite boyscouts' or the likes. In reality, it's more in line with a 'universal soldier', one that is capable of just about every aspect of warfare imagineable. It's nature's way of ensuring that humanity will survive if it comes down to it."

He waved his hand between the two of them, "And this...this only enhances what I am...sorta." Another swallow of the draft, "Had it been Rikan or someone else as highly trained as her, they'd be the true 'ultimate soldier' that governments would kill to get their hands on."

He set the mug down and looked Amara in the eye, "Which is why you cannot bite her if she comes looking for me. For once, I've got something over her, something she can't match up with. Granted, she's got her well-rounded combat skills to compensate, but the fact of the matter still stands. I'm lycan, and she's not."

Almost as soon as the word lycan was out of Lorcan’s mouth, he felt Amara’s nails dig into his leg, she stared at him with the same coldness that she had displayed when he had first woken up her captive. Amara spoke in a hushed, angry tone. “Don’t ever say that in public. Remember we are not welcome in this country. Come on, we’re moving.”

Amara took Lorcan to a booth near the bar, but they would have more privacy than they might have had at the bar. She had been listening with interest to what he had to say about the Raxhun race. They sounded like a new, modern day Spartan. Strength, endurance, ability in battle. Yes sir, a modern day Spartan Amara thought to herself.

Once the pair had seated themselves, Amara stared at Lorcan through slightly thawed eyes but still spoke in her angry tone. “Don’t ever say what we are in public ever again. If there was an undercover VIB agent here and heard you…you and I would both be taken in and interrogated. And because you are a Tarlachian it will be assumed you are the original lycan and I am just a poor innocent girl that you kidnapped for your own purposes. We are not a common species in this land and since Tarlachia has more immortals…you will be the suspect.”

Now finished with scolding her pup, Amara leaned back and took another sip of whiskey. She talked in a far calmer tone than before as she shrugged.

“Don’t worry, if Rikan shows up you will still have your edge. I will be sure to kill her before she could do anything. The only bite she will get is one to the throat before I rip it out. The Golden Simatar is a huge country, will take her weeks or months…or even years to find the general area where I brought your group down. And added to that, we have had rain which will muck up the trail even more.” Amara took another sip of whiskey. To her the biggest peril was not Rikan but Stephen and Nicole when they came home. By then hopefully she could get Lorcan out of the Golden Simatar. She looked at Lorcan and shrugged.

“The only thing you have to worry about is Rikan stumbling into my hunting grounds the next full moon. Then, you will be able to see if your edge is good enough against her.”

Lorcan shook his head while looking away for a moment to study the surrounding patrons of the club. "No, if it comes down to it I'll kill her myself; as much as I hate to say this." He looked back up at her, "She's had her dominance for a long time now, but perhaps this is the end of her undisputed position."

He took a drink of the alcohol, "Only time will tell." Several moments of silence was exchanged between them before he spoke up again. "Can I ask you something?"

She nodded, watching him.

"Why are your people so fearful of-well...you know...It just seems like they are unwilling to open their minds to certain aspects of others that differentiate them from humans. It makes no sense, especially considering that both Tarlachia and the Golden Simatar are neighbors and cooperatively trading nations."

He made a casual sweep of the table in front of them, placing a few items around in strategic display. "I mean, haven't they even looked beyond Tarlachia at that? Don't they realize that humans are merely a moderately sized population of the world at best?"

Amara smiled as Lorcan stated he would kill Rikan himself. She would love to see that, Lorcan was defiantly tapping into his new lycan form and seemed ready to exploit it. She smiled; he would become an excellent predator.

Then came the most obvious of all questions. From being called ‘Oblivious Land’ to now by some ‘Paranoid Land’ was indeed a radical shift in less than a hundred years. Amara sipped her Firebrand and sighed. It was indeed something that pondered her too, but, she would answer as best she could.

“You do have a good point about Tarlachia and the Golden Simatar being neighbors, close allies, making millions if not billions every year off trades and sales between one another…the best of buds…course that is all monetary and government. That isn’t taking into account what the populace thinks. For example, if by some chance the populace found Stephen to be in exile in Tarlachia, they would scream bloody murder to have him back. They would want all ties to Tarlachia severed...of course no right minded politician would do that, their campaign money would go away since many business would be crippled and or bankrupt. Politicians and businessmen view the world with money, so they could care less about what the people think if it effects them in a great way.”

The girl paused and sipped some more alcohol. “They are afraid of another Clarence, during the battle like I said thousands died. They fear that, they fear their family and children being massacred and impaled. They fear what they don’t know mostly. ‘The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear. And the oldest and strongest kind of fear is of the unknown’….H.P Lovecraft.

“Let’s use vampires for example. You and I both know the change really only effects the body and some brain…the psychic powers…functions. The vampire wakes up…and they can chose to be human in personality, a stereotype vampire, or a mix of the both. And of course first impressions are heavy. Simatarians know vampires before Stephen as the creatures in films, bloodsuckers…Buffy and all that shit. Course that is hard to shake off and the fact that his discovery provoked a terrorist attack, didn’t help that much. Two attacks by Assington vampires…which Stephen is of the same species…killed any notion of vampires being accepted here. Lets say that Stephen revealed himself…proved he never killed a single human here and lived normally. Okay, people of course would be a bit scared, they would demand that vampires be registered…but that would give them safety. If human personality vampires arrived here and the attacks never happened…well, I wouldn’t be surprised if there wouldn’t be a few in here with some friends. But, the glaring number of nearly twenty five hundred dead due to vampire attacks over the course of two nights….that, which was Stephen’s hope and dream that the Golden Simatar not become like Assington and instead it would be more like a Tarlachia….it will never happen.

“In fact we are probably worse than Assington as we have no vamps here spare for my parents. Mostly because we have thermal cameras in our airports and a few decades ago a vampire was coming through here on a connector flight and a jumpy security guard simply gunned him down. Vampires seem to avoid this place…at least the airports…like the plague. Also, the fear was so great at one point, a few Goth kids…ya know the fellas who think they are vampires or dress up in leather and stuff…some were coming outta a club and got beaten horribly. One died I think. Shit, just after Stephen was announced a vampire some poor girl was murdered because she was playing a vampire in a movie her classmate was making.”

Amara took a drink. “Demons of course are obvious why no one would want them. Elves…eh…no one would mind, spare for the ears and immortality, an elf is just like a human. So, Elves would be welcome here. Dragons…well…they know they exist but don’t know they live here. Now…to our species. Humans know we exist and are scared of us because they know we can change between human and animal form. We could be anyone, your neighbor, boss, best friend, husband, wife…anyone. One of the oldest human fears is getting eaten alive…” Amara paused and grinned, remembering all of her victims before speaking again. “…well that and some people actually have websites devoted to ‘Mass Lycanthrope Conspiracies’…claiming we control business and countries and shit. You and I…if found out…shot on site, officer claim self defense and no one would mind. Arrested…you and I would end up like those poor buggers at Gitmo who haven’t been tried or even seen anyone resembling a lawyer.

“Lorcan, Simatarians have looked beyond this land and yours. And that is what scares them more than any vampire or werewolf can. Because they have been in the dark so long to see all this light…it blinds them so they go back to their little holes and suckle on their thumbs and only look at the creatures that might be friendly or…and what is occurring more…dangerous. We are a shunned species here, we are unwanted. I can show you how much fear and hatred people have of vampires for example. Any military book or program dealing with the Rangers would proclaim Stephen a hero of his time…now, a third to half or more deem him nothing more than a terrorist and making no mentions of his past record.”

Finished with her long speech, Amara drained the rest of the Firebrand and ordered some more for herself and a refill for Lorcan. She smiled at her pup and she waited till the waitress returned with the drinks.

“Lorcan, I must say I am surprised at myself for letting you live. Now thinking on it I am glad. Giving you a chance to see life through our eyes and experience what we experience. Remembering last night, you will do fine. You’re an excellent predator, you’ll do just fine against any animal…or human you chose as your prey.”

Amara relax into her seat. “What else would you like to know at your new self or my country’s short past with immortals or anything else?”

Leaning back in his seat, Lorcan studied the glass of ice in his hand as he thought. Finally, he looked up to her and nodded, "Yeah, just a few things running through my mind. One, I'm not sure exactly how Rikan will react, but that we'll find out sooner or later. Secondly, what do you think are the odds that your parents will accept me and not try to kill me?"

-----------------------

Several hours later

Reaching the peak of the mountain, Rikan looked down its slope and gazed upon the lands of the Golden Simatar. A beautiful landscape, pristine, vastly untouched by society. She gazed upon the westward sun sinking into the horizon behind her, then up at the moon rising above her from the east. Tonight would be a decently lit night with a moon that was full in its glory. She smiled as she remembered a song that was popular to some of the kids in the cities of Tarlachia, a song known as 'Midnight Sun'. Stepping forth from the mountain's peak, she entered the Golden Simatar and descended into the depths of the forests below. She knew that Stephen would do what she asked, but at the same time, she desired to do some searching herself. She would look into why Lorcan had been missing for so long.

Amara was quiet and her face showed she was deep in thought over his question. She had no idea how Stephen and Nicole would react to Lorcan. Darius obviously didn’t like the Tarlachian and no doubt would inform Stephen that Amara had brought someone home. Rikan was another deal, Amara was smart, and she knew she could never hope to beat Rikan one on one. She heard from Stephen that there were a few vampire elders who wouldn’t go up against her because she was so skilled at hand to hand.

“To tell the truth I don’t know how my folks will react. They will of course be wary and want to talk to you about why you were here. Saying hunting me or the dragons…one or the other ya gotta say it won’t cause them to rip into you. Though saying the dragons would of course bring up the question of if you are a true Raxhun. From what I hear you lot have a deep respect for dragons and you leading two businessmen…a species worse than demons to hunt them…you should know better. Well…my dad is a little moralistic I guess.”

Amara finished her drink and ordered another drink for herself and Lorcan. “Course there is the obvious shock of what has happened that will have to be gotten over. The fact I have bitten you and you have turned and the fact I have killed two powerful businessmen will of course be surprising. It’s been on the news for quite some time now. Some folks believe you killed them, stole their wallets and stuff and made off. But to tell the truth I have no idea how they will react.

“They are human in personality…I mean if you were an idiot you would figure they would and the only thing that you could think is that they just need to head down to the beach for some sun. But just cause they are more human than the V word…don’t think that if need be…they can be tough. Nicole can shoot a gun with great marksmanship…and Stephen…” She shivered “…not table talk for what I hear he did to a vampire who tried to kill Nicole.

“But basically be on good behavior and take it one step at a time I guess. But, I have a feeling no harm will come to you if you are a good boy.”


As Rikan made her way through the cool forest, fire flies zipped around her and a few bugs decided to taste this thing. The moon lit the way through the forest, she was many miles from a town or road and when she the base of the mountain, she paused when she heard strange, yet familiar noises coming from ahead. She only moved a few meters ahead and moved a bush. She gently moved the leaves and stared at a remarkable sight.

Five Labrador sized ice dragon pups, two a light ice blue, two a deep navy blue, and one right in the middle were wrestling and squawking at each other as they played around in the bushes and trees. Rikan’s eyes caught movement near the pups and she viewed a large female about the size of a school bus and a dark blue in color watching over her brood.

The trees rustled and the ground trembled slightly as the cracking of branches filled the air and quieted the animals. The pups, all in a tangled mess on the ground looked up as a male with a light blue coloring and about the same size as the female placed a dead black bear before the pups. The little dragons didn’t need to be told what to do, they jumped upon the carcass and one of the pups began an attempt to drag away the liver and it moved closer to Rikan. The pup paused and began its meal. Its mother cocked her head to look after her pup and she had yet to spot Rikan due to the cover and darkness and due to the fact the air was very still.

The dragon pups continued their meal as their parents looked on, oblivious to the human so close to them.

Lorcan thought about the various reactions that might be encountered once he had met Stephen and Nicole. Although Amara reassured him that they most likely wouldn’t react violently, he knew he had to prepare for the worst. It was better to be safe than sorry. Watching as the waitress left his new drink in front of him and watching as she walked away, he smiled slightly. His eyes flicked back to Amara,

“Your parents won’t be a problem then. I’ll make sure of it.”

Taking a chug of the alcohol, he rose and held his hand out to her, “Come on. Let’s look somewhat normal around here.” he said at last, a smirk on his face as he gestured with a nod to the dance floor.

****************************************

Rikan watched as the feeding ritual continued, calculating the odds of being eaten alive should she interrupt. As the pup nearest her continued to gnaw on the liver, she slowly stepped out of the shade of shadows and knelt down in a non-threatening manner and began to stroke the pup along its spine. As expected, the pup nearly leapt the height of a man into the air, a shriek emitting from its mouth. Instantly, a roar replied as the mother stomped closer to Rikan. A ferocious mouth of fangs and bad breath greeted Rikan.

Steeling her nerves, Rikan rose to her full height and looked the mother in the eyes, an expressionless look upon her face. When she spoke, she spoke in the dragon’s native tongue, a collection of harsh syllables and guttural tones.

“Greetings. I mean your family no harm. My name is Rikan Tansho.”

The dragon snorted slightly, then replied, “I’m surprised you speak Draco, Ree-kan. What brings you here?” She spun her head about as she sought for the pups, all whom had huddled together on the far side of the clearing, the male beside them and obviously quite unpleased with the surprise incident.

Rikan took the moment to take her weapons off her forearms and drop them to the ground. Doing so would reinforce her statement of good intentions, and such an action well respected by many draconians. “You bear the traits of Tarlachian ice dragons, most likely from, or the descendants of those that come from the Snowy Peaks region. I too am from a land not far from there, and am what they call Raxhun. As you probably know, your kind and mine get along well.”

Rikan knelt down and picked up the remains of the liver and walked past the mother slowly toward the pup whom had been devouring it. She watched the adults out of the corners of her eyes and saw that although they did not intercede, they were watching her closely. Coming within a few feet of the pup, she knelt down and held the raw meat out to it. Gingerly at first, and with several glances to its parents, the pup inched forward until it gently received the meat and pulled back quickly after it was cleared of her hand.

Rikan smiled as it finished its meal, yet kept its eye on her. She turned to the mother and spoke, “I came in search of a family member of mine, another Raxhun. He was said to have led some hunting expedition for some rogue creature that was terrorizing the countryside here in the Golden Simatar. Most likely a bear of sorts, I’d imagine. Nevertheless, that was weeks ago, and no one’s heard word of him since.”

She looked toward the father, “Perhaps you might have heard or seen something of his whereabouts?”

Lorcan’s first words rang in Amara’s head. She looked at Lorcan. If he meant he would be a gentleman, he would be fine…if he meant he would fight…he wouldn’t stand a snow balls chance in hell. She wouldn’t help him if he tried something insanely stupid, but then…

She looked up as Lorcan spoke to her again, this time about dancing. The word’s banged around in the lycan’s head; the idea was not registering with her. After so many decades without any real social life, without friends to hang out with (Tolkien in this case didn’t count)….she had died on the inside. Amara’s head cocked curiously to one side.

“Pardon?”


The adult dragons watched the woman named Rikan carefully as she neared the pups, a few of whom made small growls and snaps at her. The father’s eyes were kept firmly on her, his jaw slightly open, ready to grab the woman if she tried anything to his offspring. Once she had handed the pup the meat, the father moved and pushed the young gently back a little into the tree line with his snout and pushed the bear towards them so they could continue to eat. Despite this, he made sure he was between Rikan and the pups yet could still keep an eye on them.

The female spoke in a calm voice, yet there was a subtle sound of annoyance due to the woman scaring her pups. “We are of Tarlachian descent. At least I am. I was part of the first generation of Simatarian Ice Dragons, my mother and father and my mate are Tarlachian by birth. My siblings and I have all settled in this land as it is virgin to our species and the perfect place to raise a family. As far as I know…only ice dragons live here, most in the Glothlin to the west or Barishu Mountains…where you are now. My brother has staked his family in the valleys around my birthplace…many days south of here. Its good land here. I have heard of you Raxhun quiet a bit.”

“Indeed. Your kind is honorable and unlike many humans you respect us and treat us as the intelligent creatures we are and not stupid creatures.” The male said as he stared at the woman. He leaned in close to where his snout was only a foot from her body as he smelled her, searching for any signs of fear or evil. He pulled back and pondered what Rikan had said. “A rouge animal terrorizing the land? I have heard nothing of this.”

Rikan turned to the female who also shook her head. She turned back to male as he spoke again. “I can assure you unless your relative was with men who were willing to shoot anything with sharp teeth and fired at us…we dragons are not responsible. Lenoir…you grew up here…have you heard of such a creature? Has your brother heard of anything?”

His mate thought long and hard and shook her head. “I do not know. The only creatures that people consider evil I knew of are the moonwalkers who my mother in some light is their pet…yet they do not treat her as such. They are good people and not like those in Assington or Tarlachia. Their little girl spent a lot of time with us…she is also a good person.”

The dragon thought. She didn’t really know what a werewolf was and to her mind Amara was a normal human the vampires had found and adopted. She continued to think and shook her head.

“I have heard nothing from my brother that is recent. Outside of for the last few years there have been great pools of blood but no bodies…just signs of struggle and the smell of human and some animal. All of them have occurred far south of here…none up here. The moonwalker’s daughter told us a few months ago it is called ‘the Beast of Clarence’. If that means anything to you.”

Lorcan gave her an incredulous look, "I've never heard of any chick sayin' she didn't like dancing." Her blank look continued. Lorcan reached down and pulled her to her feet, leading her to the dance floor. He began to lead her through some of the dances, which she still remained stiff as a board.

Sure enough, the song switched to a slow one, and Amara gave a moment of hesistation, even going so far as to start walking away. His hand on her arm stopped her as he pulled her back gently, "Come on. It'll be ok..." She resisted a little more, then finally gave into his urgings and allowed herself to be led around by him. It was clear he knew some moves, which was more than she could say for herself.

***********************

Rikan mulled over the dragons' information, nodding slightly as she did so. "Yes...I think that's what they were hunting. It's clear you don't know what kind of creature it is, otherwise you would have told me."

Smiling at one of the pups whom exhibited great courage to slink forward and sniff her garments, she held a hand out for it to smell. Within moments, she was stroking the pup behind the ears.

Looking up at the female parent, she drew her hand back, knelt down to pick up her weapons, and put them back on. "I think I'm going to give a visit to this moonwalker's daughter." she stated, whilst thinking to herself, Vampires rarely have actual families of blood relation, and they sure as hell don't give birth to offspring. Something's off here...She's likely to be residing somewhere near the sightings.

Nodding to the dragons, she turned and disappeared southward through the trees, moving as silent as a wraith, until even her scent was lost amongst the surroundings.

Amara had been rather stupefied by Lorcan’s request to dance. The last time she had danced was many decades ago with Twitch after she had returned from Assington…less than a month before he was murdered. She had never made any more friends and even when she went to clubs, she didn’t do much besides drink. She was a lycan after all, whatever damage she was doing to her liver healed right up.

With her first failed attempt at escape ending with her back in his arms, she moved with the flexibility of a plank of hardwood. She allowed Lorcan to lead, her maternal and Alpha instincts were taken away by fear and nervousness as they moved. As they ‘danced’, Lorcan could see in her eyes she was extremely uncomfortable with it. There was also something her eyes as they darted left and right and up and down…something that had died long ago in the girl’s mind come alive for only briefly before slinking back down into its grave.

Amara didn’t know what to think. Here she was, terrified like a little kid who has lost their parents in the mall, unsure of what exactly she was doing. This isn’t how she was suppose to act or was it? She had the body of a teenager yet the mind of a hundred year old immortal and the personality as cold as the artic most of the time and partially sadistic.

All she wanted was Lorcan to let go so she could get back to the dark safety of the booth and back to her drink where she knew she wouldn’t be eyed at by dozens of eyes.

Sighing as she pulled away at the end of the dance, Lorcan made no attempt this time to restrain her. He followed her back to the shadows of their booth, their passing presence hardly noted by anyone.

Sliding into his seat, he looked over at her, then down at the table between them. He shook his head slightly, "Sorry...I just thought you'd enjoy that."

**************************

Sometime in the future weeks

The earth sat before her kneeled form, tossed asunder, soaked in a dirty crimson color which shone in the sunlight that filtered through the canopy. Looking back and forth from the several sets of tracks that were there, she slowly began to piece together what had happened here.

"A hunt...gone wrong."

A finger picked up a piece of refined wood, now in splinters. "Terribly wrong."

She followed the tracks, watching as they grew closer, then collided in a mess of fallen body imprints, and later, blood, lots of it. "The hunter became the hunted."

Rising to her feet and scanning the woods around her, she muttered to herself once more, "The Beast of Clarence still lives...and he's got a friend in tow..." Brushing off the dirt from her clothes, she found the dual set of tracks that left the clearing, heading westward through thick underbrush, the passage of the beasts evidenced by the broken branches, the bent blades of grass, the silence of the woodland creatures as she neared.

What she didn't know however, was that the bloody scene observed earlier had been the site of death for a convict whose name no longer mattered. What she did know, was that she was drawing near to the answers she sought. Or, so she hoped.

Amara sipped on a beer as she made herself some sausages, plus some more for Lorcan. After their little dance, they had returned home and Amara had let Lorcan into the main house. Needless to say, he was rather shocked when he was suddenly assaulted by a miniature pinscher sized ice dragon. Amara had laughed when Tolkien had latched onto Lorcan and proceeded to crawl on top of his head and it took a little coaxing to get the dragon down.

She removed the sausages from the skillet and put them on a plate when Tolkien began to bark and made a beeline for the door. Amara’s senses picked up who it was…her parents. Lorcan was safely back down in his little cell/room. Smiling, she ran around the corner to find Stephen and Nicole fighting off the zipping dragon. The young lycan ran forward and promptly hugged them both. Her kind, human side was shown in their presence, they were the only ones she truly loved and she knew loved her.

“Amara it’s great to see you again.” Nicole said as she gave the lycan a kiss on the cheek.

“Indeed…how are you doing kiddo?” Stephen said with a smile on his face.

“Great!” Amara said in an excited tone. “How was your trip?”

“It was perfect.” Nicole said as they made their way into the family room. She looked over at Stephen and nodded. They had spent the last few weeks combing the Golden Simatar looking for Lorcan. As the days went on, the possibility their Amara could be behind his disappearance came up and it was always in their mind as they searched. Praying he would be found dead of dragon wounds or alive in a jail somewhere. But, Stephen had picked up a familiar scent, slightly reminiscent of Rikan when they had exited their car.

The vampires removed their trench coats and put their bags down. Stephen wanted to handle it as delicately as possible. “So…anything interesting happen while we where gone?”

“No…Cassandra laid her eggs a week ago.” Amara said. She didn’t return to her beer, knowing Stephen hated the fact she drank.

“Amara…did something go wrong on your hunt two months ago?” Stephen asked concerned.

She turned. “No dad…why?”

“Two businessmen and their guide have gone missing…we just want to know if you recall anything. They could have accidentally wandered into your area.” Nicole said.

“Nothing went wrong. I read about the businessmen and their guide…but…” Amara looked at her parents. She read their eyes. They knew that something was amiss. Somehow they knew there was another werewolf, they somehow knew she had killed the two men and possibly turned the third. Ten minutes passed slowly, Amara standing in the living room staring at Nicole and Stephen, butterflies fluttering in her chest as her heart rate increased. As the minutes crawled by, tears began to well up in her eyes and she began to sniffle. Finally, she fell onto a couch crying. “I’m sorry…I didn’t know what to do with him…I tried to kill him…I didn’t…”

Nicole was quickly at her side, cradling her in her arms and rocking her gently. “Hush…hush. It’s okay. It’s okay…”

While Nicole tried to soothe Amara, Stephen walked to them and gently patted Amara on the back before following the male lycan scent to the door heading to the tunnels. He removed his pistols and knife, knowing that that a lycan that young would be easy to fight as he wasn’t strong enough and couldn’t turn without the moon.

Lorcan smelled something, a smell he had not smelled before as a lycan. He heard the door open to his little hole and his vision was blocked by the metal before it shut. In the pale light from the bulb, he saw a man dressed in black, standing six one with dark brown hair and cobalt blue eyes. Lorcan didn’t have to guess who or what the man was.

Stephen stared at Lorcan as he leaned against the wall, his eyes shining in the light as he studied the lycan.

“Rikan was worried sick about you when I talked to her.” When he spoke, Stephen made sure his fangs were visible, knowing it would add significant weight to the bizarre statement.

Rising to his feet from his seated position on the floor, Lorcan watched as Stephen stepped forward into the light, his hands out to the side, empty. Knowing that he had no chance against Stephen, even if in only hand-to-hand combat, Lorcan simply raised his hands, indicating no posed danger. He did however, note the fangs in the arrival's mouth.

"Rikan talked to you? You lie. She would've killed you at first sight." he stated, his eyes boring into the vampire's own.

"Actually...she did threaten me at first, before she found out who I am." Stephen replied, "Once she found out though, she decided I was worth alive more than dead. A wise choice on her part, for although she's an exceptional combatant, hunter, and mercenary, she would have fallen in combat against me."

Lorcan let out a scoff, "Hardly." He waved his hand at Stephen, "If anything, it would've been part of her plot to cut you off at the knees, then take your head for a trophy."

Stephen rolled his eyes. Amara had picked a head-strong one. He wondered if it was something to do with being a Tansho. He held up his hand, "Back to what I was saying, she worried about you enough to ask for my help. Seems that you've led an expedition of sorts a few months back, in search of the Beast of Clarence."

"And I found it..." Lorcan interrupted, shaking his head in the process, "And I became another..." He shook the thought from his mind and sqaured himself opposite of the vampire, his hand extended. "Lorcan Tansho, if you don't know. I know you're Stephen Malone. Amara's told me about you and your wife, how you took her in and such."

Stephen shook Lorcan’s hand. The man didn’t seem like Rikan, he was calmer yet still had the thick headiness that most humans had. Rikan would be happy to learn he was alive, yet he was now no longer human. So, would Rikan kill him or…a more dangerous thought entered Stephen’s mind. Would she try to kill Amara? Stephen wouldn’t let it happen he knew Rikan could beat him hand to hand so if she was going to go after Amara, he would simply draw her outside where he could shoot her…and of course get some help from Darius.

He listened as the man told him that Amara had already filled him on the vampire’s history. Stephen chuckled.

“Well, that is a good thing for me. It will certainly save a lot of time in explanation. My life story is complex and takes multiple twists and turns…she probably gave you the condensed version.

“You are right now the only living person outside of myself and Nicole who know or have seen the so called ‘Beast of Clarence’…strange they call something they have no photographic proof of existence something. Our own Bigfoot in my home.”

Stephen stared at Lorcan with a serious gaze. “Question is now what should we do with you? I doubt Rikan would be sitting on her butt back in Tarlachia sucking down gin waiting for me to contact her. So she is probably looking for you…so what to do with you? You are now a lycan…very young…and extremely dangerous in the wrong conditions. So Mr. Tansho…would you like to meet Rikan or quietly slip out of the country and off somewhere and act like you are one of the thousands of skeletons in the bone room or Amara’s cave? Up to you completely.”

Lorcan closed his eyes for a moment as he digested Stephen's commentaries about his cousin. It was true, Rikan was a restless one when it came to hunting, and paradoxically, she had all the patience in the world while hunting. "No, I should find her, let her know I'm all right."

Stephen nodded in understanding, "She'll question you, you know."

"Yeah, I'll just deal with it when the time comes. I don't think I should tell her about Amara and I. It might not bode well with her."

Stephen cracked his neck, "Probably. And if she asks about the two you were guiding, she's going to know something's wrong, especially considering that you're alive and well with no injuries of your own."

Lorcan burrowed his brow in thought. Once again, Stephen was right. After several moments of tossing over arguments in his mind, he finally looked the vampire in the eye, "I think it would be wise if you were there, kinda help keep the peace, make sure we're not making mincemeat out of each other."

Stephen nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Stephen searched with his mind for Rikan’s brain waves; he was in for the shock of his life when he sensed her so close. He had expected Rikan to spend a week or two prowling Tarlachia for Lorcan before making her way to the Golden Simatar. He had expected maybe a month, maybe two or three before she reached Clarence after searching every wood she could find. Instead, she had apparently gone straight from their meeting to coming here.

“Well, you are in luck. She is in this area…still a ways away but in the Golden Simatar. From what I pick up…about the region of Amara’s cave. I’ll take you to the ruins of a castle…what is it?”

Stephen had noted a slight change in Lorcan’s face. “Oh you have seen it.”

“Amara kinda…ran one of my clients and me in there like a couple of mice.” Lorcan said.

Stephen nodded and found Rikan. “It’s your favorite vampire. I am not at all surprised that you are here…just the fact you have come so far so fast. There are the ruins of a castle a few miles from you. I’ll met you there…got a surprise.”


Less than an hour later, Stephen was in his trenchcoat, both pistols in his armpit holsters and his knife on his leg sheath. He was sitting on the remains of the wall, his back resting against a tree calmly picking up sticks with his mind and making a small stack of them. Lorcan was a few feet away, keeping to himself. No doubt he was very nervous. The vampire smelled the air and smiled over at Lorcan.

“Rikan is here. Its your show.”

After hearing the announcement from the vampire, Lorcan confirmed Rikan's presence by noting her scent upon the winds. Hopping down to his feet, he willed his uncertainity to the depths of his mind and put on a face of ease. He watched as Rikan came from the western forests, her agile, feminine form almost floating upon the earth. She kept her eyes constantly looking about, a habit of a hunter of her calibre.

As she drew near, she nodded to Stephen, whom remained where he was, then turned her attention to her cousin. "Where the hell have you been? Your damn antics have got the rest of the clan wondering whether or not a tombstone should be erected since you've failed to return home weeks ago!"

Lorcan groaned inwardly. Already this was gonna get ugly. "Here and there. But, as you can see, I'm alive and well." He glanced to Stephen momentarily.

"Where are the men you were supposed to be guiding? Rumors are that they're presumed dead. Hell, even their companies have already taken steps to the tune of that. Do you know anything about that?" A darker look crossed her face, "Did you kill them?"

Lorcan swallowed, "They're dead. Killed by the Beast of Clarence. Monstrous creature...vicious teeth, claws, you name it. Like nothing I had ever seen before."

Rikan narrowed her eyes at him, "Yet, you're not hurt."

Shit. Lorcan thought, No wonder she's damn good. "I managed to get away with only a few small injuries. They've healed since then."

Rikan moved closer, bringing her face to his until he couldn't avoid looking her in the eyes. "You weren't looking at me then. You're shaking, and you're sweating more than you should be. You're lying to me, and I want to know why!"

Lorcan shook his head, "No...I can't. You must understand!" He froze as Rikan's hand clamped onto his chest, right over his heart. He looked at her finally, and watched as she frowned slightly.

"You've still got a heartbeat. Obviously, you're not a vampire." Her hands moved to rip his sleeves open. "And you've gained muscle. More than would be expected for a few weeks time." At last, she stepped back to give him space.

Lorcan gave a look to Stephen, whom yet remained where he was, although he was watching the two of them with great interest, searching for signs of mortal danger. So far, there was none.

Schiiiiiischt A flurry of motion, and Lorcan looked down at his chest, his shirt ripped apart by Rikan's custom retractable katars. Blood oozed from a diagonal cut, soaking his shirt in moments. He knew what would happen. His eyes moved to Rikan.

What she saw, surprised her. His blood reversed course and returned into his body through the wound, sealing the wound and leaving no trace of injury within a few minutes. Once this was done, she looked at Lorcan.

"What the hell was that?"

Lorcan merely looked over at Stephen. There was no evading the question now.

The vampire stayed in his position, still very calm. Stephen had predicted as much, Rikan was the hunter’s version of Skadi and Stephen always wanted to see a ‘Bitch Off’ between them. He sighed and swung his legs off the wall and dropped a few feet to the dirt. He walked casually to the pair and stopped, keeping a few feet between himself and Rikan so he could have ample room to maneuver in case she moved on him.

“Right…Ms. Tansho you are not the one to bullshit with. So I shall be blunt with you. Both of the businessmen are dead….like your cousin told you. Not by dragons and not by Lorcan but by the so called ‘Beast of Clarence’. The so called ‘Beast’ is a lycanthrope…or as humans rather call them…werewolves. Course the moon rises once a month so Lorcan here got mauled by it and probably because its belly was full it didn’t bother to kill him and instead left him out here.”

“Then who is this lycan anyway?” Rikan demanded anger raging in her eyes. “You can sense them so why don’t you hunt it down? And…you also have some explanations to do. Vampires can’t have children and I doubt you adopted a baby.”

Stephen laughed. “Adopted…funny thing about that. I know who the beast is. She is my daughter. Now, let’s get passed whatever crap is swirling in your mind. Her name is Amara. About a hundred years ago she was bitten at age eighteen while studying in Assington. When she got back here her family was murdered by the one who made her. She killed him and I found her crying in the pantry of her house. My wife and I took her in and she has become the daughter we never could have.

“Now…something that came with being turned was a taste for human flesh and a system was covertly set up where convicts on death row…the ones no one paid attention to or cared about would ‘accidentally’ escape into the woods here. The moon would transform her and her human mind would die. Lorcan stumbled into her territory on one of these nights and happened to get attacked.

“Amara killed his two clients and injured him and brought him back to my home. Where he has been all of this time. Last month she brought him on one of her hunts to train him.”

Stephen paused and waited for Rikan to digest everything. “So…my daughter is a lycan and the so called ‘Beast of Clarence’. And Lorcan here is a lycan also. A very young one at that. Now, could you please put your blades away and let us talk like adults?”

After several moments of digesting the information, the sound of Rikan's katars returning to their sheaths was heard. Lorcan breathed a little more lightly as this was done, keeping silent for the time being.

Rikan spoke, "Accidential escaped convicts every once in a while?" She shook her head, "Someone's bound to notice the trend. Then, speculation will set in, followed by the general populace's fear as they realize that because of such high numbers 'escapes' per year, their communities and families are not safe."

She gestured to Lorcan, "Then, they're going to come hunting for the convicts and find the two mutts." She briefly noted Lorcan's stirring at this, choosing to ignore him. She focused on Stephen a little more intensely, "Why didn't you tell me about his new...identity when we first met back in Tarlachia?"

Lorcan interrupted, "You two met?" He looked at Stephen, "You're lucky she didn't just kill you outright."

Rikan rolled her eyes, "Lorcan, shut the fuck up. He knows that."

Lorcan's growl remained low in his throat, yet he still did nothing. Instead, he turned around and closed his eyes to calm himself down.

Rikan looked after him and shook her head. "Well Stephen?"

Stephen’s jaw tightened and his eyes hardened as Rikan referred to his daughter a mutt; he had nearly killed a previous President after he called her dirty mongrel. She did have a good point though of the ‘accidental escape convicts’, but so far the issue had yet to rise. But it was still something to think about. He smiled a little as Rikan barked at Lorcan to shut his mouth; he didn’t even have to speak. Stephen knew his tale of encountering Rikan in such a peaceful manner would make and interesting tale to tell to his vampiric friends.

The vampire looked at her. “I did not know that he was turned into a werewolf. I found out only after arriving home with my wife…she had apparently kept him locked up thinking of eating him later on but never got around to it. Believe me if I had known where they were hunting I would have made mention of my daughter. The thought had occurred to me as Nicole and I scoured the forests, but no one that she attacked ever lived. If I had known that Lorcan had been turned I would have told you right then and there.”

Stephen looked over at Lorcan for a second before back at Rikan. “Believe me I fully expected to hear from Amara that she had eaten him and I would explore her cave and discover what was left of him. Either that or learning a dragon had killed him as one of his clients seemed eager to bring down one of our ice dragons.”

Stephen shifted his weight. “I hope you understand Rikan I am as shocked as you are that Lorcan here is a lycan. But believe me if I had known about this earlier I would have told you and brought you over.”

Rikan exhaled slowly for a moment. She hated when things happened that weren't exactly favorable. Nevertheless, she would adapt to it as necessary. Survival was her code, survival was what kept her alive. She looked at Lorcan, whom had now turned back to the conversation.

"Well, I don't suppose it'll be too much to ask to meet her, is it?" she asked.

Lorcan shook his head, "It's not necessary." He glared at his cousin. Silently, he just didn't want her to meet Amara, even if it were on friendly terms. He didn't want her to continue to hold the better-than-thou card over his head, despite his change. He wanted to establish his independence to her once and for all.

"You're not welcome." he stated more firmly. He watched as Rikan's eyes locked with his and seemed to burn into his soul. Yet, he remain still, unrelenting. Several tense moments passed between them before she spoke again,

"I don't think it's your decision, Lorcan." She turned her attention to Stephen, "Well?" A moment passed, "I'll play nice. Promise."

"Don't let her, Stephen!" Lorcan demanded, also boring his eyes into the vampire.

Stephen turned to Lorcan. “Quiet Lorcan, despite your change into a werewolf be mindful you are still a pup and since you cannot change at will you can have some problems.”

Stephen turned to Rikan; his cobalt blue eyes changed before her eyes as she watched any warmth that had been in them evaporate and left nothing but an Artic coldness in them. As he spoke, his fangs were clearly visible in the pale starlight and his voice was just as biting as the winds in the Artic itself.

“I warn you Rikan, you so much pull out those blades and try to harm one hair on my daughter’s head do not think I would not hesitate to kill you. The only way you would leave this country is in a body bag and through the toilet after the wife and I finish having you for dinner. Either that….or you will end up as food for my dragon. And I trust you not to tell anyone else where I live. I am someone who trusts a person will keep their word….you keep yours…you keep your life.”


They arrived at Stephen’s home just over an hour later, the vampire knew Lorcan was nervous and he couldn’t detect much from Rikan. He opened the door to his home and no sooner had they entered did Tolkien come rushing forward, his wings flapping as wildly as his tail as he continued to bark. He sniffed Stephen and Lorcan, licking them both on the cheek before sniffing Rikan, the tiny dragon smelled her, smelled Lorcan and smelling some similarities, gave Rikan a lick.

Stephen removed his trenchcoat; two heavy .45 automatic pistols were visible in armpit holsters. He led them into the family room where Nicole was waiting; she got up and smiled, giving Stephen a kiss before turning to Lorcan and Rikan. She remembered meeting Lorcan briefly before Stephen and he had left. She looked at Rikan, so this was the great Rikan Tansho…personally Nicole was more nervous about Skadi…but since Skadi was long gone, only Rikan would be there.

“I’m Nicole.” She said politely, not bothering to shake Rikan’s hand. She knew why Rikan was here, she opened her mouth to call for Amara…but the lycan’s voice cut her off.

“I’m here mom.”

Rikan turned and stared at Amara as the lycan sat on the circular stairs leading to the second floor, Tolkien in her lap. Though Amara looked like an average eighteen year old, Rikan could see in her eyes the years of torment and exhaustion immortality had caused her. Amara sat quietly for some time before speaking to Rikan.

“Hi…I’m Amara.”

Rikan kept her eyes upon Amara, trying to see how a powerful lycan could be locked up inside the seemingly frail body of what appeared to be an eighteen year old. She however, was not ignorant to the possibility. Indeed, she had seen stranger, much more dangerous things in her time.

Like Abaddon..and Arithon. she thought to herself. The demon whose terrifying hold had held Tarlachia in a deathly grip, and whose alliance with Arithon had destroyed the landscape for the entire northern section of Fatal Terrain. In those ten years of constant warfare, the lands had indeed become fatal terrain. However, all things have an end, and the demon's reign of terror had met its own.

"So, you're the one responsible for this mess." she stated bluntly, purposely leaving the comment open ended.

Lorcan fumed, yet kept quiet as he recalled the patriarchial tone that Stephen had used when silencing him earlier. He was hardly a regular in this family, yet he didn't want to cause any rifts in that particular regard. Rikan was a different story however, one he would deal with on his own. He looked at Amara, also awaiting her response.

Amara smelled the curiosity on Rikan of how could this girl could be such a powerful werewolf to bring down several armed men and one of them a Tansho. The girl’s aquamarine eyes never left Rikan’s as she began to speak.

“Seventy years ago I was an exchange student in Emerald City, Assington. I hoped to act in theater and film after I got a Bachelor’s and Masters. Unfortunately, I went out walking one night with the right…yet very wrong teen. Marcus Dante…he was bitten at eighteen during the Third Assington Vampire War accidentally. We were ambushed by three vampires in the park, I ran and as I ran through the trees he had turned and killed them. Then…he came after me and bit me.

“After a month of agony I turned in a werewolf and killed my first human at the first full moon. The next day I left for home and I told my friends and family what had happened. A month later, Marcus came and slaughtered my friends and family…” Amara’s eyes seemed to twitch, but Rikan realized it was tears, which the lycan repressed. Her expression returned to complete calm and never altered again. “I shot Marcus when I returned home from the mountains after a moon. Dad found me a little while later. I’ve been here ever since.”

Amara looked at Rikan and continued to speak in a very calm, even tone. Her eyes were still locked with Rikan as she scratched Tolkien, who was making small clicking sounds in pleasure.

“Yes I did cause this mess. After my original meal was blown up by landmines your cousin brought with him my wolf senses naturally locked onto the next target. I devoured Mr. Broody that night and Mr. McClellan the next. Lorcan tried to fight me off, but he couldn’t match with a lycan. I tore him up pretty badly…but that night happened to be when my human brain finally took over my wolf brain. I panicked and I left him alive…probably should have eaten him the next morning but was too full from the last night.

“So I brought him back here. Started to eat him little by little and basically kept him prisoner. He proved very tough to get at, but he later accepted his fate and a month later…he turned and made his first kill with me. I was impressed, not only by his skills at hunting…but by his appetite…ate his prey right down to the bone. I only ate about half. Came at the right time too Rikan…another week or two, the moon would rise and Lorcan would be in wolf form. Comments…questions?”

Her words were chilling by themselves, but coming from an eighteen year old…was disturbing to say the least.

Rikan raised an eyebrow at hearing that Lorcan's stubborness had held out for so long. Looking to him, she nodded so-so and smiled slightly, "He always did have a thick skull." She turned back to Amara, "But, at least he did put up some resistance."

She paused as she looked down at the ground in thought. "So, are you going to return to Tarlachia, or stay here, Lorcan?"

Lorcan's had wondered when she would ask this, and when she did, he suddenly didn't know what to really say. After looking into Amara's eyes, he finally shook his head, "No. This is my home now," he sighed slightly, then added quickly, "But I'll visit from time to time."

Rikan nodded, then changed the subject, "So, what's for dinner?" She grinned slightly at Amara's expression, "What? We're settled. No harm, no foul, and I'm fuckin' famished." She looked at Stephen momentarily, "Aren't you going to take good care of your guest?"

Needless to say, an already bizarre series of events continued to get even more bizarre as the human talked about dinner, with vampires of all beings. The shock and surprise was obvious on Stephen’s and Nicole’s faces, as well as that of Amara, who had expected the woman to start railing on her.

Nicole shook herself and smiled. “Sure, we do have some…human food as we do have other friends besides vampires and werewolves.”

The vampiress turned and went back to the kitchen, leaving her husband still standing there for a few seconds gaping at Rikan before came too. And I thought things couldn’t get stranger…but this one takes the cake… Stephen thought to himself as he went with Nicole.

“Please take a seat. We do have quiet a few friends that aren’t blood drinkers so we keep some stuff handy. Thankfully, Sigrun wasn’t too picky about not getting his stuff on silver plates.” Stephen said with a slight chuckle, remembering his old friend from years ago, who had once been king of Tarlachia. “I know Amara has a beer or two hidden around here somewhere.”

Amara continued to sit on the stairs, gently rocking Tolkien in her arms, as she thought about Lorcan. Make his home here? Would he live here or get himself a place somewhere else in the country? Despite maternal instincts, Amara personally didn’t want Lorcan to stay in her home for longer than needed. The girl was snapped from her thoughts when Tolkien jumped out of her arms and flew over to Rikan and sat down on her lap and began to sniff her.

Tolkien drew his head back and sneezed over the woman before going into a long, near incomprehensible babble, but Amara stood, and fetched a beer for Rikan, making out a few words.

“I don’t know what he says...but ‘sister’ came out.” Amara said as she offered the beer to Rikan. “You seem to have met his siblings…obviously he is the runt. Nearly as old as me too. But…Tolkien seems to like you.”

As she spoke, Tolkien curled up on Rikan’s lap. Amara smiled. “Our other dragons Cassandra and Darius are in the other barn and Cassandra laid her six eggs about a week ago. The other barn is a gym, a small pool, and a target range on the upstairs.”

Rikan laughed as Tolkien babbled to her, the rough grating words seemingly smooth as they came out of the little creature's mouth, and yet she understood every word spoken. Although she was not related to the Dramen, she had often negotiated trades and other agreements with them over the years. Looking up at Amara, Rikan nodded, "Yes, he was talking about his siblings, saying that they all needed a bath, as the barn is apparently as foul as a demon's waste. He also said the barn's overdue for a yearly cleaning. It's why he sneezed apparently."

Accepting the beer offered, Rikan popped it open and swallowed a good portion down at once, clearing her throat in appreciation once she was finished. The bottle clinked on the table next to her, just as Tolkien snuggled up into her lap and soon started to purr. A corner of her mouth rose as Rikan observed this, before she turned her attention to Stephen.

"I'm just curious about one thing. How did you and Nicole manage to keep Amara under control when you first met her, with her lycan form and all?"

Stephen looked up at Rikan. He had overheard what she had translated from Tolkien, in all of his years he never understood the dragon as most of his words were mashed up and made little if no sense. Considering the barn and the fact Tolkien lived inside the house most of the time and on occasion one of his siblings, who actually grew to full size would visit from the woods, no wonder the little guy might have a few sneezes.

He looked at Amara, who had sat down on the couch across from Rikan, the girl was smiling at little as she watched Tolkien adjust himself on Rikan’s lap before tucking his head underneath one of his wings and went to sleep.

The vampire cracked his neck. “Well, when I first found Amara she was in human form thankfully. But shortly after we got her here Nicole and I began to work on a grid system of an area where Amara could run free in the woods during the full moon but with an electronic collar around her neck to pump enough electricity into her so she will go back…kinda like a big invisible fence.

“Well, the collar at least got here for the full moon…but…” Stephen looked at Amara, who put her head down and flexed her fingers. The vampire turned back to Rikan.

“Well, the collar also had a remote so until a small amount of fencing was erected around a more isolated part of the farm, Amara could be handled. But…shit happens and the remote failed. So…I had to wrestle Amara to the ground while Nicole, with some assistance from the humans chained her and got the ends locked firmly around several trees.

“Needless to say I looked like a mess. But at least this time I came out better than the last time I wrestled with a lycan. Wrestled with a lycan once before during the Forth Assington Vampire War…the VP captain was a wolf, came out nearly dead looking like Jack Goodman from American Werewolf In London. Thank God vampires can heal all that up. Werewolves are naturally stronger than vampires; put a fledgling vamp and a lycan pup both the same exact age down the second in a fight…lycan would win. Even with my age…Amara was still able to get some good hits on me.”

Stephen paused for a little bit. “Well, after getting her chained one of the VIB agents shot a few tranqs into her and she slept like a baby till morning. But thankfully by the time the next full moon the boundaries in the forests had been made and the kinks worked out of the collar and remote.”

Stephen smiled at Rikan, his voice was obviously sarcastic. “If you want adventure…the hell with hunting vampires, wrestle a lycan. Most fun you’ll ever have.”

Rikan did laugh along with Stephen, replying as she did so, "I'd imagine you'd feel a little more at ease if I did that." Then, her face grew solemn as she continued, "But, I've fought bigger, badder, meaner, and definitely more bloodthirsty things than lycans and vampires." Her expression lightened once again as she took another drink, raising the bottle afterwards to silently salute her fellow countrymen who had died defending their homeland from the demonic empire that had held an black iron fist over all of Tarlachia and much of the northeastern lands of the region. "Rest in peace." she murmured, taking another drink as she did so, this time finishing the beer.

There was a brief flash before her eyes, and although Rikan tensed slightly, it was gone as soon as it had come. Although the image had been fast in passing, she recognized it immediately, a face of one whose life she had taken some time ago.

Turning her head to look out a window, more to hide the slight discomfort of hiding her secret, Rikan took in a deep breath as she observed a few leaves spiraling about in the wind on the grass outdoors.

Stephen sensed a jolt going through the human’s system. Probably remembering a lost comrade during the war. Stephen had been unable to participate due to his obvious vulnerability to sunlight and if it wasn’t for that he would have happily picked up a rifle and gone in with the rest of the Simatarian Army.

He remembered the war, many of his friends in Tarlachia had been killed during the opening phases of the demonic takeover and he and Nicole had nearly been crushed by falling debris in one of Tarlachia’s underground cities.

Nicole finished making the steak and put it on a tray for Rikan and at that time Tolkien stirred. Before Amara could make a grab for the dragon, it was up and awake at the smell of fresh meat and scrambled off of Rikan, scratching her in a few places before sitting on the couch next to her, watching at the tray with the steak, some salad, and a baked potato were put on the coffee table.

Nicole smiled. “Hope you like it. And watch out for Tolkien.”

No sooner had Nicole spoken did Tolkien look at Rikan with large, pitiful eyes and he whimpered softly in hopes to gain some sympathy and hopefully the whole steak from this new person.

Digging into the meat and potatoes as soon as the dish was served, Rikan ignored the little dragon at her side, whimpering softly with big eyes. A bloody puppy she thought to herself with a glance to the dragon. Instantly, Tolkien stood up on hind legs, feet lightly pressed against her thigh, his nose pushing into the air as if he wanted to sniff the meal off the plate and into his waiting jaws.

Taking another slow, measured bite, Rikan glanced to the two vampires and the lycan girl. All were distracted enough that they wouldn't see what she had for the dragon. Her knife sliced into the meat, but instead of using the fork to move it to her mouth, she picked it up with her fingers. Tolkien's body became animated, almost as if he were being electrocuted to keep moving. She brought it closer to his face, bringing hers along as well until they were eye to eye. Tolkien's large eyes were on the meat, watching as it neared her mouth. Then, as she opened her mouth, Tolkien got a glimpse of something unexpected. The woman had fangs, and although not as developed as Stephen's, Nicole's or even Amara's, they were just long enough to send a warning into dragon's mind.

Rikan smiled in amusement, her lips closed, as she watched Tolkien run off quickly while babbling seemingly incoherently. Several times, the little dragon glanced back at her before disappearing around the corner. Rikan resumed eating her meal as she normally did, raising no visible alarm from any of her hosts.

Tolkien’s whole body was shaking like a leaf as he watched each strip of meat leave the steak and enter Rikan’s mouth. He put his paws up on her and liked her arms, trying to gain some pity and some meat. His eyes grew wider as he watched Rikan pick up a bit of the steak and seemed to be offering it to him. The dragon leaned in, his tongue flickering across his lips as he opened his jaw, the meat just a few millimeters away. It was then he saw Rikan’s mouth opening and he knew he had to leap if he was to rescue the sliver of meat.

As he readied to pounce, he froze as he saw the woman’s upper canines. They were fangs, but they didn’t seem as obvious as that of the vampires. But the dragon’s little mind went into alarm.

He jumped off the couch, barking and squabbling, running around in circles, yapping at Rikan, before taking off down a hallway. Amara stood and looked at Rikan and giggled. “Oh you pissed him all to hell; he’s running off somewhere to throw a temper tantrum. Best leave your plate on the floor after you are finished and give him a tiny bit meat to make up.”

Amara went after the dragon pup and a few minutes later, she returned cradling Tolkien in her arms as she rubbed the little creature’s stomach, knowing it always soothed him. But, not this time. Tolkien, much to everyone’s shock leapt out of Amara’s arms and landed on the coffee table, and without a second thought fired an ice spear about the size of a pencil at Rikan.

The spear sliced across her left arm, breaking skin and causing bleeding. The action caused a flurry of activity as Amara grabbed Tolkien and held him tight, preventing him from trying to attack again while still babbling and squabbling. Stephen avoided the spear as it smashed into the wall and shattering. He was stunned, never had Tolkien ever been aggressive to this degree. He nipped a little and breathed a little cold air when he was playing games, but this was completely alien.

Nicole was already at the couch, mentally pulling over a towel. She looked on as Rikan held a hand over the bloody spot as more of the crimson liquid seeped through her fingers. The smell made Nicole’s mouth water slightly, but she ignored it. The other woman also seemed to be a bit hesitant about letting the vampiress look at her injury.

“Move your hand Rikan, let me clean this up and get some of my blood on this to seal the wound.”

"I'll be fine." Rikan stated flatly, the cool edge in her voice a subtle warning that she meant it. "I've had worse, believe me."

Yet, Nicole wouldn't hear of it, and continued to attempt to remove Rikan's hand from the wound. Rikan snarled somewhat as she spun about and rose to her feet swiftly. Her plate shattered upon impact with the floor, the meat flying free of the shards and landing a few steps from Amara. Instantly, Tolkien leapt from Amara's arms and snatched the meat with his tiny jaws, ripping it to pieces and chewing on them quickly before someone could take them away. The chair Rikan had been sitting in crashed to the floor with a loud clattering, causing Tolkien to yelp and grab the meat to run off into another room.

"God damn it woman! I am fine!" she said again, her hand lowering to her side as she took well-trained steps to avert any potential physical counter-attack. It was Nicole's bewildered look that made her realize the mistake that she had done.

"Fuck." she muttered to herself as she sighed and looked over at Stephen. "Guess the cat's outta the bag on this one."

She remained standing, awaiting the inevitable barrage of questions that would come.

Nicole and Stephen stared dumbfounded at Rikan. They could see her face, Amara could not. The vampiress looked down at the blood on her fingers and smelled it, it smelled perfectly normal. Regular human blood, a sweet, slightly metallic scent…nothing abnormal. She looked back at Rikan, at her bloody arm. And she couldn’t believe what she saw.

The slice that Tolkien’s spear had made was closing, the bleeding had stopped and the vampires watched as the flesh began to fold back together and in a short time, it was like nothing happened, spare for the blood. Nicole looked at her fingers again and licked some of the blood and gasped.

“Vampire…”

The look of shock on Nicole’s face prompted Stephen to gently put his finger against one of Nicole’s and tasted it. The look on his face only confirmed it. Both vampires looked at Rikan before the rapid heartbeat of their daughter and the sound of footsteps against hardwood staircase smashed into them as Amara took off up the stairs as fast as she could, her heart pounding. She was scared to death of vampires and she knew her parents must be right and a vampire this close to her…terrified the lycan more than meeting hunters armed with silver nitrate rounds.

Nicole only stole a brief glance at Amara before wiping the blood off her fingers. She opened her mouth, but found it hard to find the words. But, Stephen found them.

“What in God’s name are you? Your blood has the smell of human blood, your body’s scent, you heart actually beating…everything shows you as human. But…your blood in taste is vampiric.”

Stephen stared at Rikan was curiosity now. “So, what are you? A new species of vampire, one of a kind unique like me or is there something else? And I want to know how it is that the vampire blood in your system was concealed. Even the smallest amount is detectable to the seasoned nose.”

Rikan shook her head negatively at Stephen's questions, indicating he was incorrect. "No, not vampire. The proper term would be dhampir. One with vampiric tendencies and traits, yet is A) alive and otherwise normal, and B) can walk in daylight without fear of turning into bacon."

Glancing between the two vampires, she continued speaking, "I guess you could say that I'm an evolved form of vampires." She picked up the chair that had been flipped over and set it right. Holding out her hand to the other chairs around the table, she looked at them, "Might want to sit if I'm going to tell you about this."

Lorcan, whom had remained quiet, growled lowly, then remembered about Amara. "I'll be back in a bit." he muttered as he disappeared up the stairs in search of her. He eventually found her in her bedroom, cowering in the corner atop a comfortable bowl-shaped chair.

Back downstairs, Rikan waited until the other two were seated before she launched into her story, only stopping occassionally to catch a much needed deep breath.

"Seventy-eight years ago, during the time of Abaddon's reign over Tarlachia, I was in the middle of a smaller land-based counterattack against the imperialistic armies of Abaddon and Arithon just outside of Eternalia City, one of the underworld cities, if you recall. Before the war, I used to contract the right to hunt rogue vampires, many of whom retreated to this city. While our allies brought the war to a sudden blaze on both the eastern and western fronts, I led the remnants of the Tarlachian resistance; those that had survived the surprise attack that wiped out nearly eight-five percent of our former strength; through the dead-strewn earthworks that guarded Eternalia city and began to slaughter vampires and demons alike whom were allied against us."

She got up and poured a glass of water from the sink, continuing as she spoke.


"During that conflict, I found myself separated from my boys, and alone in this large underground mansion of sorts. There were no lights inside, so I had on NVGs. I probably should have lit a fire, because one of the fuckers came up behind me and snatched them off my head, leaving me to nothing but my other senses to fend them off. I heard a few of them approaching, and managed to keep them at bay, but I never noticed the one that came up from beneath me until it was too late. By the time I realized what was happening, I was on the ground, the life being sucked out of me slowly. It was a good thing that bastard enjoyed torturing his prey with a slow death, because that was the last thing he ever thought about."

She sat down once again in her seat, swallowing some of the water in a moment of silence.

"Anyway, we managed to clean out the city with some extra help coming in from the Tanaran military, enough to establish a forward base in our reclamation movements. Although I had been bitten, never in the next few months did I die as average people would when bitten by vampires, to turn and become one fully. I eventually met up with the Lady Aeris during a commendations ceremony after the war, and discussed the matter with her, knowing that her uncle had once been a vampire, as well as very good friends with some of them, including you, Stephen."

She turned to watch as Tolkien came warily back into the room, watching her carefully as he scampered around the outer edges of the room before he disappeared up the stairs.

"Aeris explained to me that there were some types of vampires that were extremely rare to find, the kind of vampires that look like humans in every regard, but have the abilities and the bloodlust of vampires. She called them dhampirs."

Holding out her arms to the side, Rikan sighed, "So...now here I am. One of you...and yet not one of you. It explains why your well hidden heat-sensory guns outside did not fire upon me."

She then fell quiet, looking up the stairs, thinking. Nodding her head in the direction of the stairs, she asked, "She gonna be ok? She looked terrified."

Amara’s eyes flashed the doorway as she heard someone coming, her heart pounding hard as she considered opening the window and jumping out, but that would make her open the outer part of the barn that concealed the glass…too long of a time. But, she only relaxed slightly as Lorcan came into her bedroom. Despite the mean bitch persona she had displayed a mere month before, Lorcan could see her room was something entirely different.

A large four poster bed with soft, Robin egg blue sheets and curtains sat to his right along with several, polished hardwood bookcases filled with a variety of adventure novels, classic literature and plays. On his immediate left was a half dresser with a large mirror and on the top of the dresser were various photographs of her, showing her at various locations throughout the Golden Simatar and other countries…plus a few ones with her and Tolkien. A flat screen, plasma television sat near where Amara was trying to hide.

On a second sweep of the room Lorcan could see on a small table near her bed where her alarm clock sat was a photograph framed in solid gold. It showed a smiling Amara along with three other teens, two boys and a girl at an ice cream stand enjoying some cones. Her old friends…murdered at the hands of her lycan father.

It was a strange sight to see, like the werewolf tried to retain some grasp upon her human life that had been dead for so long.

Amara looked at Lorcan, fear in her eyes. “Is she still here?”


Stephen and Nicole listened intently to Rikan’s story. They found it a little hard to believe that this could happen. Stephen was a freak of nature as well as virus experimentation, but Rikan before him was also a strange freak of nature. They had heard of half-human half-vampires before, they knew maybe a few existed, but never actually met one or knew anyone who had even known anyone who knew someone who ever sensed one. They simply dismissed dhampirs as vampire urban myths as the siring process would allow only two routes, death or becoming a vampire.

The biting defiantly made Stephen curious. His transformation was triggered due to vampire salvia intermingling with a man made virus already in his body. This just seemed to be triggered by a bite alone. Very bizarre, he had never heard of such a thing outside of himself. Humans dying after being fed upon, he knew that some humans experienced heavy trauma after the bite and some even expired…but coming back as a vampire? That was strange.

Nicole spoke. “A very interesting tale Rikan. Your species is basically our species urban legends. As far as we know dhampirs are very few and very far between as creation of one is very rare indeed. But as you are proof they give off human attributes so there might be more. Course being half vampire would still demand blood.”

Stephen took up. “Defiantly as siring would have only death or become a vampire as options. If the vampire that bit you however is strange, you must have something in your blood that caused the reaction to only do a half transformation….or the vampire had something in its system that twisted its own DNA enough to cause it. Humans dying of bites…all of the ones I have fed upon had never died…course it all depends on finding the right meal and picking on that is healthy.”

Nicole got up and went back into the kitchen and returned a little while later with a glass of warm blood and gave it to Rikan. “Here. Help soothe that ‘bloodlust’. Stephen and I basically live off bottled blood, spare for the occasional trip into the city to indulge in the populace. I would suggest getting a bloodstone if you can find one…incredibly useful when you are on trips.”

She sat back down on the couch with Stephen and looked up at the top of the stairs, where she knew that Amara was hiding in her room. The vampiress turned back to Rikan.

“The night she was bit, she was walking through the park with the boy who turned her. Well they were ambushed by some vampires, one of whom apparently wanted to make Amara his pet and the vampires were almost on top of them before the boy with her knocked her away into the bushes, turned and killed the vampires before biting her.

“Still, the event has made her terrified of vampires spare for me and Stephen. She refuses to go to any country where vampires might be and refuses to let me or Stephen take her to Assington for a while to meet some of our friends. We’ve never bothered to tell them about her as it’s too strange to believe…vampires with a werewolf daughter.” Nicole chuckled slightly.

“Its strange really…if she bumped into a vampire who was only minutes old Amara would be halfway across the city before the vampire knew what was going on. It’s not you as a person, but your vampire half. She is just terrified of all vampires and I don’t think it’s about to change. Sad really, we would like to introduce her to some folks…but as soon as we say the V word, she runs and hides and refuses to come out.”

Lorcan nodded at her as he took a seat upon the edge of her bed, looking at her. "Yeah. She's explaining things to the others." Glancing around the room at her belongings, he shook his head in slight disbelief, then dismissed those thoughts as he looked back at her, "Something tells me you were frightened. Never thought I'd ever see you frightened, though I have to admit, it freaked me out a bit too, considering she's my cousin and all."

Lorcan then gave a slight laugh, "Irony huh? She comes looking for me, finds me to be something else, and in turn we find out she's not all she seems either."

Seeing that she was shaking visibly in fear, he approached and knelt down next to the chair, pulling one of her hands closer to him as he stroked it softly, trying to help calm her nerves.

"Relax. I'm not going to force you to go down there. We'll just stay here if you want."

Downstairs, Rikan accepted the glass from Nicole, pausing long enough to look at the two of them with some wariness, before finally giving into the hunger that still rumbled in her stomach. Before long, the glass was empty and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm sensation that flowed through her body. Several moments later, she opened them again and looked at Stephen.

"Since talking with Aeris, I've had one of her elven friends conduct a battery of tests on my blood to find any impurities in my blood. Nothing was found except for the human and dhampir strains, leading me to believe that I was bitten by a dhampir."

Shaking her head, she looked at some of the house's ornaments and decorations while scoffing, "The mighty Rikan...defeated by a single bite. Of all bloody things, a goddamn bite." She looked back at them, "My only defeat."

Amara nodded furiously as Lorcan suggested they just stay in her room. She was not about to leave while a strange vampire was downstairs. She felt very strange now; Lorcan was in her room, her private domain. After nearly a month of torture he was not seeing a side of her only her parents really ever saw.

There was a patter on the floor as Tolkien came into the room and hoped into Amara’s arms. The lycan hugged the dragon tightly, not wanting to let her only true friend in the world go. She looked at Lorcan and spoke like a pissed off teenager.

“No shit I’m frightened…fucking vampire freak downstairs. I ain’t…I ain’t going down…”

Amara shook with fear as the seasoned, rational part of her left and was replaced by a teenager.


Stephen looked at Rikan as she drank the blood his wife had given her. It was very strange, the great vampire hunter Rikan Tansho now living halfway in the darkness. And just as to be expected, the woman was angry over it. The vampire sat there for a while and stared at Rikan before smiling at her.

“Rikan, don’t think of this as a defeat…you’re alive right? And you are still half human at least. Nicole and I are full vampires, we can no longer go out and enjoy the sunshine and eat human food. You can still do all that stuff and you have been given powers, though not nearly as powerful as a full vampire….better than a human. You can heal faster than a human, you strength is better and no doubt your sense are too. The only thing that is the downside is the need to have blood every so often. That is easily handled if you do not wish to drink a little from a human then you may be able to procure a bloodstone and all those problems are settled.”

Stephen smiled at her, his own fangs shined brightly in the light. “Think of this as a bit of a victory for you. You can now hunt rogue vampires a bit easier and bring them down easier. They won’t expect the strength you now have from a human…and with those little fangs of yours you could make a meal out of one and keep the hunger down for a few days. Come on; try to look at the bright side of this new world.”

Rikan listened as Stephen tried to impart some positive "wisdom" her way. While on one hand, she could understand what he was saying, on the other hand, she had her pride now tainted by the very thing she had fought so long, and so hard against. A dhampir had make short work of her, turning her into one of them. Inwardly, she hated it, but nevertheless she was a survivor.

"I'll be fine." Rikan noted aloud, "It's just going to take more than a few years to get used to."

She finished the last of the blood in the goblet, and looked at the two of them silently as she slowly swirled the liquid in her mouth to satisfy all her senses before swallowing. "I'm not changing how I do things, just how I...react to certain situations."

She looked at Stephen momentarily before glancing up the stairs, "I wonder what's taking them so long?"

---------------

Lorcan nodded as he listened to Amara's stated fears. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't but help laugh. "A little ironic, isn't it? You're afraid of a blood-sucking vampire, and yet you devour entire humans regularly for an entree."

He stood and walked over to where a picture sat on the dresser, picking it up to observe Amara and some unknown persons next to her, all smiling. It was obvious it was from a past life.

"You and I...we're not so different from them, you know. The day you realize how much of an advantage your lycan abilities can be to you...will be the day that hostile vampires will fear, no matter their age. You're powerful in your own right, and without a second thought you alone could rip apart a dozen vampires before they knew how to react to a lycan."

Looking back at Amara, he felt an inner feeling of attraction for a moment, before it was shoved away into the recesses of his soul. This was not the time or place to even remotely suggest such to her.

If he thought about it a little more, he would realize it was because of a healthy fear of her that he kept himself in check.

Nicole smiled as best as she could at Rikan. “Well, you are more than welcome to pop by any time if you need help with anything. I admit saying that feels very strange considering your reputation…but…the last few weeks have been…interesting to say the least.”

Stephen looked up the stairs where Lorcan and Amara were. “Just give it time. She might come down she might not. Considering you are half human that might make it easier, if you were a full vampire it would take a nuclear missile to dislodge her. She’s a good girl and who knows? She might warm up to you and you two might become buddies.”


Amara jerked up as she watched Lorcan pick up the photograph, that photo held a special place in her heart as it was the last photograph taken of her and her friends before she traveled to Assington, before she met Marcus…

She sat in her chair and cuddled Tolkien, the tiny dragon’s head was on her shoulder and he gently nuzzled her and licked her face, like what his own mother used to do when he was feeling horrible. Which was pretty much all the time considering his larger siblings then and now liked to taunt him.

Amara thought of what Lorcan said. Take out ten vampires? Bullshit…never happen. Her father and mother could…but she couldn’t. She rather not be near any vampire spare for her parents, she wanted Rikan gone but with her mom and dad acting so kindly to her, she knew she was probably embarrassing them by staying up here.

Amara slowly got up from her seat and placed Tolkien in the char, giving the dragon a kiss on the head before turning and walking over to Lorcan. She took the photo from him and slowly tapped on each person as she spoke quietly. “Twitch, Alan, and Samantha…my best friends…”

She stood there and wiped a tear from her eye as she replaced the picture. The lycan looked up at her pup. Her eyes and face were red from crying.

“I bet this makes you happy huh? Seeing the girl who terrorized you suddenly revealed as still an emotionally crippled teen?”

Lorcan committed the people's images to memory, then looked up at her as she asked him the question that almost made him scoff in reply. "No...not at all. It just means you're human."

He rested a hand on her shoulder, unsure just how personal she was with her space. Yet, he figured this was safe enough. "I'm sorry for your friends. It must have been terrible."

Taking the risk, he then pulled her into an embrace, holding it there for a moment before releasing her. "I'll be downstairs. You have my word she won't do anything to you. If she were going to, she would've done it already, before we found out about her...new state of existence."

Rikan nodded her appreciation to Nicole's offer, agreeing with her at the same time, "Yes...things have indeed been interesting. Only time will tell how much these revelations shall have an effect on us all."

Turning to the sound of feet coming down the stairs, she watched as Lorcan entered the room, cast his eyes around at each of them and raise his eyebrows at them as he saw their questioning looks. "I think she'll be ok." he stated, his voice giving away his uncertanity.

Lorcan strode to the sink and poured a glass of water straight from the tap. Turning and leaning against the sink, he looked at the empty goblet sitting on top of the table, the entire inner surface licked clean of its prior contents. Nevertheless, he could still smell the scent of blood lingering. "So, when were you planning on telling me?" he asked as he looked at Rikan.

Rikan shrugged, "I wasn't really. It wasn't your concern."

Amara’s heart stopped as she felt Lorcan touch her before pulling her into an embrace. It of course wasn’t the first time she had been hugged before, but with everything going on and Lorcan’s apparent complete forgiveness…it felt so strange. She stood there for a while after he left, taking in the scent that he had left in the room before falling on the bed. Her face buried in the pillow as she began to cry.

Fifteen minutes after Lorcan had come downstairs; Amara slowly emerged, moving cautiously down the stairs, her eyes never leaving Rikan as she slowly made her way down the spiral stairs, Tolkien moving ahead of her. The young lycan paused at the base of the stairs before slowly making her way around to where everyone was sitting, giving Rikan a wide berth.

Amara settled down and stared at her blankly and as Rikan stared at the wolf, she could see her eyes had a slight blur to them as though she had been recently crying. Amara continued to star at her, her body still very tense, ready to leap and run for it at the slightest provocation.

“What are you?”

Rikan exhaled slowly, looking down at the table for a moment before looking up at Amara, "To answer the question as directly as possible, I am a dhampir. A vampire with daywalking capabilities. In essence, I'm holding onto more of my humanity than your parents here, while still exhibiting some of the traits of vampires."

Lorcan coughed, then choked, spewing water back into the glass he held. He waved a hand at them, "Sorry," he managed to gasp out in between choking fits, "Swallowed wrong."

Rikan nodded at him, turning back to Amara, "Look, I know you're not too fond of vampires. It's obvious. So, what can I do to help you get a little more less frightened of me?"

Keel over and die.

That was the first thing that buzzed through Amara’s head. She stared at Rikan for a time before looking at her parents to confirm with what she had said. She got a nod and the young werewolf turned back to Rikan. She thought for a while. What could make her trust this woman, who was half human…but also half vampire?

Amara was quiet and sat on the chair, her eyes staring off into space while she scratched Tolkien behind the ears. She rocked gently back and forth in the black leather, deep in thought. She knew she couldn’t fully trust Rikan, she didn’t even like being the room with her. For all she knew the dhampir would want kill her for biting Lorcan and was only acting civilized right now in public. Or she might consider going after Tolkien for his blood so she wouldn’t have to feed upon humans.

Amara just shrugged as she stood. “I’m going out for a walk.”

The lycan put Tolkien down on the chair and walked past Rikan, giving her a few feet of berth and keeping on eye on her at all times. Amara walked down the hall to the foyer. She looked at a small clock near the doorway, almost seven in the morning. Sun should be rising. At that time she heard minute electronic motors jump into life as they sealed up the windows of the house, preventing any of the harmful rays in.

Amara opened the door and squinted as she was hit with a blast of light. She shut the door quickly and walked around the barn in the wet grass, the cool morning air refreshing her. She walked past the gymnasium barn and the dragon’s lair before reaching a small shed where she kept her dirt bike. She opened the door and pulled it out. She did a quick check of the oil and the fuel before hopping on board.

Amara sighed as she gunned the engine, hearing the reassuring screech of the bike. She opened the throttle and took off, slowly gaining speed as she bounced across the farm, going in a slow circle around a lake in the middle. As the turn was ending, she opened it completely, the bike leapt as it began to take on speed. Amara smiled as she felt the air running through her hair, she was feeling better already.

She never saw the large rock hidden inside of a depression in front of her.

Amara felt the bike jerk violently under her as it hit at nearly sixty miles an hour. She grasped the handles firmly, trying to steady the bike, but on the moist soil in the early morning she wasn’t able to get the control she wanted. With the bike twisting under her, she tapped the brakes, trying to gain some control, but a slight shift in her weight send her to the ground.

The last thing Amara saw clearly was the grass racing up to her. She felt her legs being twisted under the bike and the rough impact upon the ground. When she came to, her vision was blurred for a few seconds along with her senses before she got a clear look at what happened.

Her left leg was trapped under the twisted remains of the bike, blood oozing out the wound while her right leg was also horribly torn, a white piece of bone sitting out midway between the knee and ankle. Amara knew she had busted a few ribs, probably broke one arm, and there was a gash on her skull.

She tried to move, but the pain rushed in, sending her back to the ground with an ear shattering scream.


Nicole’s head jerked up as she heard Amara scream. Without thinking and before Stephen could grab her, she took off towards the door, only thinking of getting hold of Amara. She heard Stephen crying out behind her but she didn’t listen as she opened the front door.

The vampiress screamed and flung herself away from the door and into a corner, the smell of burnt skin coming into the room as she covered her partially charred face.

Stephen hid around the corner in the hall, unable to go the aid of Nicole as the sun covered the hallway. The vampire mentally knocked the door shut and rushed forward to Nicole. She would be alright, the sun wasn’t at its most potent yet. He held Nicole and offered his wrist, which she gratefully took and began to feed.

Stephen sighed and turned to Rikan, his eyes were desperate and they said more than what he could say himself.

Rikan gave Stephen a You've got to be kidding me. look on her face, only for his expression to be mirrored somewhat by Lorcan, whom had approached the doorway.

Exhaling quickly, Rikan nodded and waited until Stephen and Nicole were safely out of range of any incoming sunlight before opening the door. Lorcan followed her quickly, his nose instantly picking up the scent of blood on the wind.

"That way." he gestured as he began running toward Amara on the far side of the lake. He ran with a speed that surprised Rikan. Nevertheless, she kept pace, sprinting toward the screams.

As they arrived on the scene, Rikan was quick to figure out what had happened. The skid marks and trussled grass gave enough clues. Lorcan was the first to reach Amara, heaving the bike off her and tossing it aside a few feet away. Rikan kneeled down, instantly catching the none-too-quiet snarling that came from Amara. Rikan's enhanced senses allowed her to see the evolving hand swiping toward her head, so she merely ducked it and looked sharply at the girl.

"Amara! Chill the fuck out. I'm here to help you!" she growled back at the girl, nearly disbelieving the lack of trust the injured girl was showing despite her injuries.

Lorcan approached Amara and held her shoulders firmly, "Relax. She won't do anything." At first Amara resisted his hands, but the ensuing pain caused her to cry out with tears coming to her eyes. Before she knew it, Rikan had inspected the wounds, ensuring that none were immediately life-threatening.

"You'll be fine. Your genetics will fix things in time. However, I'm going to move you back to the house." She looked up at Lorcan, nodding at him. "Take care of the bike. I'll get her back inside."

Lorcan looked carefully at Rikan, before finally nodding and getting up to get the bike and begin rolling it back to where they had come from.

Rikan looked at Amara, whose eyes were now wide with fear and pain. She exhaled sharply at the girl, "Look, if I were going to hurt you, I'd have done it already. But, I didn't. And I won't." She tilted her head slightly at her.

"So, on the count of three, I'm going to pick you up. It's going to hurt like a bitch, but just try not to chew the fuck outta me while I'm saving your broken ass, all right?"

Amara nodded slightly, then steeled herself for the inevitable pain to come.

As Rikan hefted the girl to her shoulders, slinging the good arm over and holding it with her parallel hand. The left leg, although bleeding moderately, was her best leg, and became the other limb that held her to Rikan's shoulders.

Rikan moved carefully, yet quickly over the ground, noting only briefly that Amara had passed out from the excrutiating pain, silencing her cries. Probably the best for her for now. Rikan thought to herself as she kicked open the partially open door and tromped through the kitchen and into the living room where Stephen and Nicole were waiting anxiously. Setting the girl down on the floor with Nicole grabbing a pillow and tossing it to Rikan for the head.

Moving down to the girl's leg, Rikan spoke without looking up. "I need one of you to hold her down as I set this. She'll likely come around because of this."

Stephen complied, quickly establishing a firm hold on Amara. Lorcan arrived a moment later, his eyes surveying the three of them, then focusing on the girl lying unconsciously on the ground.

The snap of bone moving back into the leg caused a blood curdling scream to rent the air, painfully hurting the ears of all there. A half minute later, and Amara was reduced to gasping heaves, her hands clenching over and again as she lay there in agony. Yet, Stephen's face above hers calmed her somewhat.

As Rikan moved to check on her other wounds, she was pleasd to see that Amara's flesh had already begun to heal quickly, stopping all blood loss, leaving only blood stains on the clothes, ground, and Rikan's arms and shoulders.

Looking up at Lorcan, Rikan instructed him to get some meat from somewhere, which he did within a few minutes. Rikan held it in front of the girl, "Here, chew this. It'll help you."

Lorcan shook his head in slight disbelief, "How do you know all this?" Rikan's amused look preceeded her response.

"Simple. I learned the habits of my foes before I engaged in combat with them."

He raised his eyebrows, "That's the secret of your combat record?"

She simply nodded, turning back to look at Amara, "You did all right kid." she said quietly, before rising to her feet and excusing herself to the bathroom to clean herself up.

In the bathroom, Rikan turned the sink on and waited as the water turned warm. As she did so, she pulled the blood-soaked clothes off. The scent of blood was more powerful now that her attention wasn't elsewhere, and she felt the carnal hunger rising again. Running a finger through the blood, she brought it to her lips to taste, only to spit it away a moment later.

Ugh...it tastes like a dirty mutt. she thought to herself as she washed the blood off her body. Several minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her torso. Returning to the living room, she looked at Nicole, "Hey, I need to borrow some clothes. You look about my size too, if you don't mind?"

Amara had virtually passed out on the couch after her leg was reset. Her head and body were pounding from the pain and aftershock from the crash and aftermath. She couldn’t believe it, Rikan hadn’t tried to prey upon her, and she had actually helped her and brought her back inside. Her vision was blurry and it took her a few seconds to recognize the bit of meat held in Rikan’s hands. Her hand grasped empty air till she got it and began to chew.

She looked up to see the smiling, blurry image from her father standing above her, gently stroking her cheek, saying something to her, but she was too dizzy to make it out.

Amara’s eyes closed and when they reopened, she saw the semi-blurry image of a half naked Rikan, her lower half covered by a towel. Her voice was very weak, but still audible.

“Hey…thanks….”

With that, Amara’s eyes shut and she drifted off to sleep.

Nicole looked from Amara to Rikan with a smile. “Looks like you two might end up as friends. Come on.”

The vampiress led the dhampir up the spiral stairs and onto the top floor, down the hallway to the master bedroom. A large four poster bed dominated the center of the room, the walls were lined with various paintings and photographs from the Malone’s human and vampire lives, there were several dressers and Nicole went to the walk in closet.

She opened the door and flicked on the light to reveal on one side man’s clothes and on the other women’s. And in the far back wall was a small rack of shoes and combat boots as well as a Remington 11-87 shotgun and some body armor. The vampiress smiled.

“It’s the very least I can do for what you did. Help yourself. I’ll get your old clothes and put them in the washer.”

The vampiress left the room and shut the door and went back downstairs.

"No problem kid," Rikan replied with a smile at the girl, watching as she passed out again. A few minutes later, she was standing in the room with Nicole, observing the clothing that hung in the closet. She heard the door close, and so she took the towel off, dropping it to her feet. She didn't care if anyone saw her like this. She had gotten over the self-consciousness of her physical form a long time ago. In combat, such things might happen, and to stop and think about anything else other than surviving would only be a welcome mat for death to arrive.

Reaching out and taking a black top from Nicole's side of the closet, she slipped it on with practiced ease. The scoop was moderate, so it showed plenty of cleavage, yet still remained decent. She recalled that Nicole too, was endowed with a bountiful, yet proportional bosom. Not bad for a dead chick. she thought, Stephen's a lucky guy.

Several minutes later she emerged from the closet clothed in the black top and dark blue jeans. She returned to the bathroom where she had left her boots, slipping them on moments later. The towel was hung on the rack before she departed, pulling her hair up and back into a ponytail. She made her way back downstairs where Amara still lay asleep on the couch. She looked at Stephen who was watching her quietly.

"How is she?" she asked quietly.

Stephen looked up from Amara as Rikan reentered the room. He rose from the chair he was sitting in and smiled at her, taking a few steps away from the sleeping girl before talking in a hushed tone.

“She is doing fine. Bleeding has stopped and all she has to do now her body is just making all the loose connections solid again, back to their normal form. Doing fine, ribs were only cracked so they have basically healed up.”

As Stephen stared at Rikan, he noticed her eyes shifted and a slight change in them became a “what the?” look. Stephen turned, on Amara’s stomach, there was a large lump. Stephen grinned and walked over to Amara and gave it a slight squeeze, resulting in a series of low vocalizations. The vampire removed his hand and walked back to Rikan.

“Only thing he is good for is curling up on folks, otherwise a completely worthless dragon.”

Stephen took a deep breath and stared at Rikan. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did. If there is anything you want me to do for you just say it. I’m in your debt.”

With a chuckle at Tolkien's worth, Rikan replied, "One in every race, I'll bet."

As Stephen expressed his debt to her, she merely shook her head. "Don't worry about it. It was necessary for her to see I wouldn't hurt her."

Lorcan emerged from another room, pausing in silence as he looked down at Amara. While he knew she would be all right, he found himself worrying still over her. Then, he realized what he was thinking and shook his head. Am I falling in love for the one who bit the fuck outta me and would've turned me into a meal? he wondered silently, his hand moving to his shoulder where she had once removed a considerable portion of his flesh.

Nicole smiled. "I think she will be a lot more trusting when she wakes up."

The vampiress looked up as Lorcan rubbed his shoulder. She didn't bother asking if it hurt or not, he was simply remembering when Amara bit him in the woods. She knew the feeling, there had been times before where she felt a slight twinged on her neck where Stephen had bit her, two small dots were visible only when one was close, the only thing that would send up alarms in the minds of wary people if they were too dumb to see her skin was far too pale.

She turned her attention back to Rikan. "What are your future plans Rikan? If you wish to stay with us you are more than welcome."

Rikan looked from the sleeping girl to Nicole, "I will return home. There's still a job for me to do, and that's to keep underworld characters from exploiting the general populace for their own gains. I may be a dhampir, but I'm still Rikan Tansho, mercenary for hire, underworld policewoman."

She gave a tilted smile and then looked to Lorcan, observing his shoulder. After a moment of watching, she asked, "What was it like, changing the first time?"

Lorcan looked to his cousin. He exhaled slightly, then replied, "It wasn't pretty. Nor comfortable. Imagine your bones and limbs being ripped open from the inside, as if there were a parasite within clawing its way to the surface. The only difference is that I am the "parasite"."

Rikan's eyebrows rose as she imagined this, "Damn..."

The vampires didn't react to Lorcan's description of turning. They had seen Amara turn and that was more than enough, though by this stage of the game it was down to a mild pain.

Nicole sighed. "So glad I am a vampire, all I got was a bite and got some blood outta me...that just felt so wondeful...and had to drink some blood. The actual turning you pass out so you don't feel a thing."

Nicole offered her hand to Rikan. "Well, good luck in your travels. Don't be a stranger around here."

Stephen smiled and offered his own hand. "Indeed, drop by at any time for a glass of blood, a bed, chat or whatever. Don't hesitate to call if you need any help too."

Exchanging a handshake with the two of them, Rikan nodded, "Of course." She glanced to Amara, "You're welcome to visit Tarlachia anytime. Just let me know you're in town and I'll keep the bastards off your back." She cracked a smile at them, "Though I say the three of you hardly need any help defending yourselves."

She gave a light chuckle, before turning to Lorcan. "See you around then...take care of them eh?"

"Naturally." Lorcan replied with his own smile, watching as she turned and departed the house. Her path would lead her back to home, which would never be too far away should they need her assistance or simply wish to talk.

Lorcan turned to the others, "If you don't mind...I've no reason to return home...my old life is dead now. Would you mind if I remain here with you guys?"

The vampires looked from Lorcan to each other. They didn't say a word outloud but by their facial expressions, he could tell they were debating. It only took a few minutes before Stephen turned to him.

"Sure. We got a few spare rooms upstairs. You are more than welcome to take one. Let you get settled in and tomorrow night you and I are going to the VIB HQ and get you registered as well as clear all this up once and for all. Of course you'll also have to make up with Darius sometime in the very near future. You will of course pay close attention to Amara whenever it gets close to a full moon. But, no problem with you moving in."

Lorcan smiled as he heard their approving responses, nodding as he did so, "Of course. She's the boss." With that settled, he pondered how on earth he could settle differences between himself and the male dragon. Honestly, he didn't want to, the dragon scared him shitless.

Later that night, he was settled into a spare room, resting comfortably under the covers of the bed, and drifting off to sleep before he could finish a full sentence of thought.

After Lorcan went to bed, Nicole reached under the blanket that covered Amara and took a hold of Tolkien. There was a small rumbling sound as she extracted the tiny beast and as he came out into the light his growl molded into a squeaky yawn before he curled up in Nicole’s arm and buried his face in her armpit.

Leaving Amara sleeping on the couch, Stephen turned off the lights and the vampires headed upstairs. Putting Tolkien on a small pillow at the foot of their bed, the dragon curled up under some blankets before going back to sleep as the vampires undressed and climbed into bed.

Stephen turned and looked at Nicole. “What are you thinking?”

“Thinking of what has happened. Rikan Tansho, the last person any vampire would want to meet is half vampire herself and actually quite human. And we got another Tansho…now a werewolf sleeping a few doors down. Very odd…” Nicole said.

“Yeah, well…at least we kept our heads attached to our necks. Gonna be hell to pay from the lycan end with this accidental killing.”

“And if all else fails, twist their minds a bit…”

Stephen smiled and chuckled. “Last resort.”

Nicole rolled over and looked at him. She wrapped her arm around him and pulled close. “Come on, you look tired, lets get some sleep.”

Stephen gave her a brief kiss before they settled down to sleep.