Deafening silence greets my final question. With a tired smile, I decide to go for a nap. “Tonight is the full moon. I’ll be able to send out a request to the rest of the girls from the army, and I think we should go to the club.” Kheda and I will have to go for a run. Well, Kheda more than me. Though both of us can change outside of the full moon cycle, normal werewolves have to answer the moon’s call; I’m not as much of an emergency, as my witch magick acts as a buffer to the moon’s call.
The magick of the full moon is powerful; it calls to the wolf in us, and demands our change. The call starts a couple of days before the full moon, becoming stronger and irresistible, making the werewolf want to crawl out from beneath the skin. The need to run and hunt becomes all consuming. Then the moon call’s power wanes over the days after it.
Getting up tiredly, I tidy up my dishes and go upstairs. I can hear and feel my bed’s siren song calling my tired body. I manage to drag off my outer clothes and crawl into bed in my bra and panties. I don’t remember anything else of my waking moments, but I do remember my dreams, or at least I think it was a dream.
I’m walking through the woods at the back of the pub; but this time the pub is in ruins. Something silver glitters at me, as if winking. Moving silently toward it, I reach down and retrieve a shiny silver disk. Without looking, I curl my fingers around it, half noticing it fits perfectly in the palm of my hand. Sniffing the air, I inhale the burnt wood and flesh, yet the barest scent of perfume wafts on the air, as if a woman is near.
Silently I return to the woods, keeping close to the ground. I crouch, watching. I’m just getting restless, and about to move when a noise to my left makes me pause. I flatten myself completely to the ground. My right leg stretches out behind me, as I bring my left tight into my body. My hands curl into fists, which I lean on for support. My body strains in readiness to pounce. I watch silently. The redheaded witch from Beatrix’s house searches for something within the ruins. In puzzlement, I wonder what she’s looking for.
Then the burning starts. My hand feels like it’s on fire. Smothering a scream of pain, I glance down and realize my hand is bright red. Heat and flames erupt up my arm and crawl to my elbow. Along its path my skin is unhurt, but laced with a delicate black lace tattoo interspersed with red roses.
I stare in shock. Uncurling my palm, I discover the silver disk is gone but a pentagram is burnt into my palm, laced with the same black web and red rose tattoo. But with a fine silver thread weaving in and out of it.
I touch it gently with my uninjured hand, and the pain jumps swiftly up my other hand to my elbow, leaving the same delicate design. Biting back my scream, I decide it’s best to not touch anything else, just in case I gain any more tattoos. When I look up, the red-haired witch is gone. There is no sign of anything strange having happened, except for my newfound tattoos that cover my hands and arms.
I wake up to being roughly shaken. Groaning, I try to push away the strong arms, but they don’t cease their annoying manhandling.
“What is wrong with you?” I groggily demand. Opening an eye, I catch sight of Victor’s face and come wide-awake. He looks like all the blood has left his body! Reaching a hand out to him, I notice a delicate black lace tattoo with red roses.
“Holy shit, it wasn’t a dream,” I whisper in shock. “How did this happen?” Victor demands. In wonderment, he reaches out tracing the pattern on my arms. “How is this possible?” He asks so quietly, I only just hear him.
“I don’t know. I dreamt of the pub, of finding a silver disk, and the red-haired woman from Beatrix’s house. I felt my palm going on fire, and this happening,” I tell him, waving my arms to indicate their new design. “You woke me up…She was looking for something, the red-haired witch. I wonder if it was the silver disk?”
Turning my palms up, I realize each palm has a different pattern; the pentagram in my right hand is laced in the silver thread. My left hand has a wolf’s head, also laced in silver. Sucking in a breath, I look up at Victor. “My two forms of magick,” I whisper in awe, offering my palms for inspection.
“How is this possible?” Victor whispers again. “They are magnificent. You are magnificent,” he whispers before claiming my mouth in a gentle kiss.
I kiss him back, savoring every second of it, and drinking in the emotions he offers, giving mine in return. Finally we part and just stare at each other. I reach my fingers up to his beautiful face and trace the full contours of his talented mouth with the tips of my fingers. Victor gently nips them while staring intently into my eyes.
Giving a shaky smile, I retract my fingers, finally climbing out of bed. It’s time to start getting ready for the busy night ahead. I pull on the clothes I’d worn earlier and give Victor some candles to carry downstairs. I bring down my box of matches, a crystal bowl, and some white sand I use in spell work. I follow Victor down to the sitting room, where we put them on the floor. We seriously need to get the furniture back in there. This is getting ridiculous.
“Dinner’s ready. What the hell happened to you?” gasps Jasmine in shock, catching a glimpse of my arms. She grabs my arms, running her hands over the beautiful design. “Wow, how did you do these, and when?”
“Happened in a dream. They got burnt on sort of,” I explain.
“Seriously?” She laughs, seeing Victor’s and my expressions. She looks at the designs again and rubs them, as if to wipe them off. “Bloody hell, you’re being serious!” Puzzlement and concern flash across her face, as she gently traces the designs on my arms.
“I don’t know, but they seem to represent my two types of magick,” I reply showing my palms.
“Wow, they’re seriously cool,” she murmurs. “They’re beautiful and strangely suit you. Now, let’s go eat dinner before it gets cold.” Smiling, she drags us into the kitchen.
Kheda’s serving steak and salad with baby mushrooms and sundried tomatoes. Turning around in curiosity to find out what is taking us so long he drops the serving spoon he’s using when he catches sight of my arms. “What, how…what?” stammers Kheda in shock, unable to formulate a sentence. Rubbing a large hand over his face, he takes a deep breath and starts again. “What happened to you, and how?”
Sucking in my lips, I drag in a deep breath, and once again explain what happened as best I can.
Bending down, Kheda picks up the dropped spoon and dumps it in the sink while he listens to my unusual story. “So you dreamed it happened, and you woke up with them?”
“Basically, yeah, that’s exactly what happened.” I laugh.
“I think we should go to the ruins of your pub after dinner, see if there is anything there, but I also think we should be careful, in case someone we don’t want to meet is actually looking for something,” he instructs, looking thoughtfully at my arms.
“So basically, you want us to take my dream seriously?” I ask doubtfully.
“Candi, you have tattoos you dreamed of on your skin, as if you were born with them. So yeah, we’re taking your dream seriously,” Kheda answers. I spot the moment Kheda realizes it isn’t doubt of my dreams, but fear of them that causes my question.
These markings had burnt themselves into me, through a dream! They had hurt like hell, and going by Victor’s pallor, he had seen it happen and was feeling helpless at not being able to stop it. Silently Kheda brings over our dinner, giving Victor a bloody steak.
We sit and eat in silence, each of us thinking about what the night might bring. I hope we’ll all be okay, and that no one will be hurt. Mind you, I also hope I’ll win the lotto, so what I hope for means diddly squat when you really think about it. On such a happy thought, I finish my dinner.
One by one we all finish and tidy up after ourselves. I give a big stretch. I can feel the moon’s pull, glancing at Kheda I know I’m not the only one, his muscles twitch, and crawl under his skin, and his eyes turn green.
The werewolf within him looks at me curiously. Sniffing the air as if trying to figure out what exactly I am. The change comes over me instantly, transforming me from human to werewolf in the space of a breath. I let out a little chuff of a laugh, as I look at the surprise in Kheda’s wolf eyes, and realize even though Kheda has seen me as a wolf, his wolf hasn’t. And with my witch magick allowing me to keep on my clothes, I’m definitely unique.
“I’ve never seen a change so effortless,” growls Kheda just before his body goes into the most painful transformation I have ever seen in my life. His body bows in sudden rippling, bone-crunching viciousness. I back up with a little yelp into Victor’s legs.
Quickly Kheda strips, hunkering into a crouch, just before his legs shoot out from underneath him, his body rippling and distorting, bones breaking and reconnecting differently. His face elongates, distorting and transforming until finally he turns into a wolf, panting in agony before our shocked faces.
None of us realized how much pain and agony werewolves, normal werewolves, I amend, suffer. After all, other shifters don’t, so why werewolves? Maybe it’s to do with the moon’s pull? I’ll have to ask him about it sometime. I’ve never seen another werewolf shift before. A couple of the girls from the army are werewolves. They always transformed in private. Looking at Kheda, I understand them wanting to do so privately! Jasmine strips and transforms into her dog form and curls up beside Kheda, offering him comfort and a warm lick of her tongue.
“Holy shit,” Victor whispers, as he scratches me behind my ears making me shiver in great satisfaction, my tongue lolling out as I look up at him, giving him an adoring look.
After about three minutes, Kheda finally gives a satisfied grunt and licks her back, slowly standing up so as not to disturb her. I get up as does Jasmine. We exit through the back door which Victor opens for us, and as one, we run silently over the bridge, into the woods until we come out behind the back of the burnt out shell of Vlad’s Bar.
In the ashes, I notice a silver disk glinting at me. I quickly transform into my human form, hurry over, and grab the disk. It fits perfectly in the palm of my hand. Curling my fingers around it, I slink back into the cover of the trees where Victor, Jasmine, and Kheda are waiting for me. Victor’s just about to speak when we hear the sound of someone rummaging through the ruins. Quick as lightning, we flatten ourselves against the ground and watch as the red-haired witch from Beatrix’s house emerges.
As in my dream, I wonder if it’s the disk she’s searching for. Silently we edge farther into the woods and hear a scream of rage, as the witch kicks at a fallen burnt plank of wood. She lets out another curse, I’m guessing from hurting her foot. We don’t wait to find out the reason, but instead retreat further back. Victor indicates for us to follow him, leads us through the woods, and to a house near the pub, but set on the other side of the car park.
The house is enchanting, old stone walls with dark mahogany wood for the door and window frames. The roof has black slate and a stone chimney. I look curiously at the door, for I can’t see a key hole anywhere. On silent hinges, the door swings open after Victor runs a single finger down its center. I stare doubtfully at it and then back at Victor.
“It’s okay, Candi, this is my home,” Victor whispers before entering. With a final look behind me, I follow Victor inside, with Kheda and Jasmine on my heels. Once we’re all in, the front door closes behind us, as silently as it’d opened.
Looking around, I notice the hallway is sparsely furnished, holding only a coat stand and a hall table with a phone on it. Following Victor into the sitting room which is decorated simply, the walls painted cream, apart for the fireplace wall and carpet which is a rich chocolate brown.
The two sofas are dark green leather recliners. A heavy redwood coffee table and two large bookcases in the same wood filled with books frame each side of the fireplace. The only other furniture is a drinks cabinet and a TV in a corner. Apparently Victor doesn’t watch it very often.
“What did you pick up?” Victor asks me, snapping me out of my perusal of his home. Opening my palm, I look at the silver disk. The head of a werewolf stares back at me, but it has blue eyes unlike the wolf burnt into my palm. Turning it to the other side, I notice it has the same pentagram that is burnt into my palm. I show Victor and inform the others of my findings.
“It’s quite literally the disc from my dreams,” I say showing my tattoos and the silver disk.
“The werewolf has blue eyes,” Victor puzzles. “Werewolves don’t have blue eyes, and your eyes are violet in your werewolf form.”
“Not everything is about me,” I tease Victor. “Anyway, it’s the only difference between the disk and my imprint. Mine has violet eyes.
A loud silence descends upon us at my statement, as all stare at me.
“Are you sure?” Victor demands reaching for my hands. “How can this be, and what the hell does it mean?” He traces the wolf’s head on my palm.
“I don’t know, but I have to get home to do my summoning spell, before we get ready to go to the club tonight,” I admit, removing my palm from his wonderful hands. I head toward the door, pause, I come back to Victor.
“How the hell do you open your door?”
“It’s an imprinted door, so no one, other than those who live in the house, can open it,” Victor explains. Seeing the curious and puzzled expressions on everyone’s faces he adds, “Vampires have had imprinted doors for centuries, for protection.”
“Huh, never heard of it. Clever though, but does it mean you have to constantly open the door for visitors when they’re leaving as well?”
“Yes, but that is also part of being a good host.” “But what about if you have a house party?
Doesn’t it get annoying? Or what if there’s a fire and no one can get out until you open the door or what…?” “Candi, vampires can always remove the imprint
on the door. Well, we can switch it off at least, if needed.”
“Oh, okay, that makes sense.”
“Now, let’s get back to yours, so we can get what needs done tonight, done.” Victor smiles as he brushes his fingers along my arm before sliding past me to run his fingers along the centre of his door, stepping back as it swings open.
We follow Victor out and the door shuts behind us, locking us out. We move into the forest just as an arrow whistles through the air. Tackling Victor, I knock him to the ground landing on top of him.
Running my fingers over him and finding no injuries I roll off him, bringing flames to my hands and sending them in the direction the arrow came from.“Do not injure, just restrain,” I mutter. I hear a squeal, as my firebomb hits its target, transforming into bands of fire holding a prisoner in their grasp. Warily I creep to the area lit up by the flames, holding the would-be assassin. Peering down, I’m surprised to see Sally, the young werewolf we had tried to help a couple of days ago. She is shaking, her muscles twitching like crazy, fighting off transforming.
“So Sally, we meet again.”
Kheda and Jasmine arrive, standing on either side of me, baring their fangs in a silent but deadly snarl. I feel Victor standing behind me. His fingers press and prod me as if to make sure I’m uninjured. I call back my bindings. Sally’s not going anywhere.
“I’m sorry, I had no choice,” Sally pants, tears running down her face, her body shaking uncontrollably.
“What do you mean? Who are you helping, Sally?” “I, I don’t know who — I ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Sally screams, a blood curdling scream of terror and pain. I jump in shock. To our horror, she rips apart in an explosion of body parts, drenching us in blood. A piece of bone hits me in the forehead making me wince. “Christ on a stick, what the hell?” I demand, as I wipe blood and gore from my face.
“Come, let’s all get back to the house and get cleaned up,” Victor interrupts.
“All of us?” I say, turning to look at Victor who’s spotless. “Huh, how the hell did you manage to stay clean?”
“I was standing behind you, checking to make sure you were unhurt at the time she…exploded. You protected me from the majority of the gore…” With a grimace he picks something out of my hair and swipes at the top of his head, where I now see some blood, and what looks like gristle. “What caused her to blow up?”
“Black magick. God, I feel dirty.”
Leaning closer to me, he whispers in a gruff voice, “I can wash you clean if you like?”
A shiver ripples through me, and a smile twitches at the corner of my mouth as Victor wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at me.
“Come on, let’s get back home, and hopefully no one will see us.”