Chapter Text
The sedan hit a pothole hard enough to make Jack’s stomach lurch. Keeping his eyes closed, he inhaled sharply and tried not to retch.
“Do NOT vomit in my car, Terry,” Athena said to his left.
Jack had disliked the vampire soon after meeting her at an I-495 truck stop outside Hudson, Massachussetts as the half-full moon brightened deepening twilight. Plump and shorter than he was, the curly-haired woman of Greek descent had informed Jack that his vampire-werewolf niece Nina was the only reason she was giving him a lift. “I’d insist on a drink,” Athena had said while eyeing the part of his neck not covered by his winter coat and scarf, “but your kind tastes… gamey.”
That had been two hours earlier when he’d only had a high fever and moderate pain from the bandaged slash across his right forearm. Jack had had enough willpower to bite back a retort and give the hateful creature a curt nod. Now his arm and head throbbed as lightheadedness crept in.
“Doing my best,” Jack replied. “And enough with ‘Terry.’” It wasn’t even an original taunt: Jack Russell Terrier to “Terry”. Ha ha. At least he was alive and not a parasite.
In his mind’s eye Nina raised a manicured eyebrow. His niece wasn’t a parasite. She’d struggled but had found her own path. Nina fed on human predators, usually ones able to evade the law. It was ugly business, but the world was better for it.
Athena sniffed. “What’s wrong with you, anyway? Werewolves heal fast.”
“The… thing I was hunting got a few hits in,” Jack said. “One slash broke the skin. It was healing. I called Nina when I started feeling sick.”
“So the ‘thing’ got away.”
Jack snarled, then caught himself and stopped. “I killed it. It won’t hurt anyone else.”
“Ah,” Athena said as she glanced at her iPhone propped on the dashboard. The blue arrow marking their location inched west from the rural town of New Braintree. Jack didn’t recognize the two-lane road Athena was taking, but it had already been dark when he’d approached Bloodstone Manor last fall and he’d been sick with worry.
Rescuing Ted had nearly ended in disaster. The swamp creature had gleefully told Jack how he’d crashed through the trophy room’s stained-glass ceiling and incinerated Verussa, who’d been about to kill her own stepdaughter.
How Elsa had survived the wolf Jack didn’t know. Presumably it was a combination of that side of him remembering her scent, and her bravery and intelligence. How fitting that the remarkable woman’s address was Braintree.
“…time to check with contacts, but I think— Russell!” the vampire snapped.
Jack managed a grin as a reward for not calling him Terry. “Hmm?”
“Pay attention! We’re almost there.”
Jack nodded, which prompted a fresh wave of nausea.
She gestured at the woods on the north side of the road. “The fence bounding the property is twenty feet that way. Good luck with security.” She leaned forward and scrutinized the dirt shoulder topped with a thin layer of snow. “Once I find a good place to pull over, my debt to Nina is paid in full.”
“Nuh-uh,” Jack said.
Light from the phone’s display showed Athena’s scowl. “‘Nuh-uh?’”
“You agreed to get me inside. Don’t vampires fly?”
Athena’s eyes flashed red as she brought the BMW to an abrupt halt. The motion made Jack’s head swim. “No. But you do.”
Through pain and dizziness Jack was vaguely aware of cold hands hauling him out of the car and through underbrush. “What?” he asked at least once.
They stopped with Athena holding Jack up by a handful of his coat in front of a wrought-iron fence stretching left and right into forest. Jack squinted at the tall, closely spaced bars. He was in no condition to jump or climb.
He was about to ask Athena to give him a boost when she said, “The manor is due north.” She gave him a fanged smirk, and he was sailing over the fence.
The ground rushed up and punched him in the head.
Athena chuckled as Jack vomited into leaf litter. “Give Nina my regards, if you survive.”
Jack heard her retreating footsteps between dry heaves. Pinche vampiros.
The next thing Jack knew he was laying on his back and the moon had set.
That didn’t make sense. How had it moved so fast?
You passed out, Ted said in his mind.
“Ted? How did you get here?”
Doesn’t matter, his friend—more than a friend—said. Get up. You must get up.
Groaning, Jack pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Why?”
To see Elsa.
Jack’s right arm buckled, and he nearly fell back. His arm burned, and he couldn’t feel that hand. “Okay,” he replied.
With his breath forming frosty clouds, Jack got his feet under him and followed Ted’s directions. The dense woods were a godsend; the trees helped him stay upright as he put one foot in front of the other.
Jack grinned when bright lights shone through the trees and shrubs ahead. The manor was close. Elsa was close. He regretted leaving the day after the funeral-turned-battle-royale, but Ted needed to go home, and his other side had killed nearly everyone in the trophy room. The exceptions were Verussa, whom Ted had taken care of, and Elsa. Fierce, beautiful Elsa, the woman he dreamed of since that night but was too ashamed to approach.
It had taken a wound inflicted by a supposed demon to make Jack seek out the Bloodstone heiress. After slaying the pale, four-foot-tall, spindly-armed humanoid that was stronger and faster than it appeared, he’d made his way through the abandoned industrial area it had called home. The slash its claws had made through his coat into flesh wasn’t healing. His gut said he was in trouble, so he’d tightly wrapped the wound and called Nina. He needed to get to Elsa, he told her.
After declaring Jack an idiot for wanting to go to Hunter Central, Nina had said to get to his car and sit tight. She couldn’t help directly from her flat in Bolivia, but she’d call in some favors.
Leaning against a white birch, Jack peered ahead. Across 100 feet of manicured lawn was the imposing facade of Bloodstone Manor.
Mustering his remaining strength, Jack stood up straight and started toward Elsa. Leaves and patches of snow crunched underfoot as he continued through the woods.
Where are you going? Ted asked.
Jack swiped away sweat stinging his eyes as he trudged onward. “Elsa.”
The manor’s north! You’re going the wrong way!
Jack shook his head. The resulting wave of pain made him cry out.
A gunshot made his ears ring. The shock of it brought him to his knees.
“This is private property!” a woman shouted a short distance ahead.
“Elsa!” Jack laughed. “Why are you in the woods?” Then he frowned; he wasn’t sure if he’d said that in English or Spanish.
He was about to repeat the question in English when leaves rustled and twigs snapped as a lithe form moved closer. Elsa’s familiar scent carried on the light breeze. “Who…” she called. “Jack?”
“Yes!” he said, struggling to stand upright with the help of another tree. “I’d have called but—”
Elsa, dressed in practical outdoor clothing with a hunting rifle in one hand, rushed up to him, radiant and full of life. Even with her gaping at him, she seemed lighter than when he’d last seen her. Which made sense considering his other side was about to tear her apart then, but—
“How did you get here?!” Elsa demanded.
Jack interrupted his smiling with a reply. “Pinche vampira.”
She blinked at him, then looked around with alarm.
“She left,” Jack assured her. “BMW. I’m to give Nina her regards if I survive.” His last few words had come out slurred, and the night was getting darker.
“Survive what?!”
Jack fumbled for the nearest tree for support, but found Elsa instead. He smiled, happy to lean into her with her scent all around as dizziness returned. “Dover Demon,” Jack said as Elsa shifted to get his left arm over her shoulders. He moved his wounded arm forward. Blood had soaked through his makeshift bandage and darkened the lower half of his coat’s sleeve. “Not silver,” he murmured as his eyelids grew heavy.
“Oh no no no no,” Elsa said, dragging him forward. “Don’t you dare pass out on me, Jack… What is your full name?”
“Me llamo Jack Russell.”
They stopped short, which made Jack’s head swim. “You’re having me on.”
“¡Es verdad!” Jack said as he got his feet under him. “Wasn’t about to change my name because of a new dog breed.”
Elsa looked at him askance. Jack picked one of the three of her he saw and gave her his best smile.
“Right,” she said, all business again. “Walk with me, Russell. We’re—”
“Jack,” he corrected.
Elsa sighed. “Fine, Jack. Let’s get you inside so you survive.”
Jack’s heart melted a little. That was one of the nicest things he’d heard in decades.