Streak of Black

I'm furious at Ryder. He knows how I feel about him, and he used it against me to cloud my judgment. I mean, I used his feelings for me once but it wasn't for dangerous purposes. It was for the Pack. This decision puts me in the same position, but he won't let me go because he's being selfish. I want to slap him.

Something like that can never happen again. I can't let my feelings get in the way of my decision. I need to be alone and away from my Pack. I need to be away from my family. I spend more time outside. Trying to figure out how to transform into a wolf on command.

Getting into my head was much easier than this. It takes relaxation, focus, and a clear head, three things that I have none of. I fall back in the grass, frustrated, after trying to no avail after about an hour and a half. "This isn't working!" I complain to Monique. "How do I do this?'

'Of course it isn't working. You have to visualize what you want to be in addition to thinking it.'

Thanks," I say hesitantly. Monique has never been big on help. She's always more snarky. I try it nonetheless. What've I got to lose?

I close my eyes and visualize myself in my wolf form. My reddish-brown fur and white paws. It's clear in my head. 'IWANTTOBEAWOLF. IWANTTOBEAWOLF. IWANTTOBEAWOLF. IWANTTOBEAWOLF.' I repeat it in my head like I did the mantra when I wanted to get in my head. At first nothing happens.

And then my foot itches. Excited, I open my eyes and look down. There, on my left foot, is a little tuft of white fur. Hope surges through me. 'IWANTTOBEAWOLF. IWANTTOBEAWOLF. IWANTTOBEAWOLF. IWANTTOBEAWOLF.' I visualize the transformation itself. Starting in my feet, changing them into furry white paws. Moving up my legs and torso. Making my arms turn thin and covered with reddish-brown fur. Then my snout and ears stretch. My nose turns black, cold, and wet. My hair recedes as my head turns furry.

I'm a freaking wolf.

I open my eyes and look myself over triumphantly. I did it! I howl with glee, truly and completely content for the first time in weeks, as I run around the backyard. I'm excited and I can't hide it. I howl again, still running around. I feel so free.

Everyone comes racing out of the house, even Charlette cradling little Gabrielle in her arms. I trot about, getting used to being a wolf midday on a half moon.

"Son of a bitch," I hear Lovett whisper wistfully. "It's really possible."

I shake my fur out for them, showing off a bit. I'm happy. I might finally be able to end this chapter of my life. This part of the nightmare might be over soon. Everyone is just as shocked as Lovett, maybe more. Only Lunette seems to have expected it.

"How'd you do it?" my brother asks, approaching me.

I sit down, and he does the same across from me. 'Close your eyes,' I project, only in his mind. 'Clear your mind and imagine yourself as a wolf. Envision the Transformation and what it feels like. Think about the stages you go through until you're full-fledged wolf. While you do that, maybe do a little chant to yourself of what you want.'

I watch his face scrunch up as he focuses on the task at hand. It takes him a little while, and we all sit and stare at him. And then, little tufts of fur begin to appear on him. His body begins to morph form as he turns more animalistic. At one point, he's about half human, half wolf. But his body keeps changing.

And then my brother is a wolf.

We're wolves and it isn't nighttime or the Full Moon.

This is so cool!

I howl gleefully, and Lovett does the same. I don't think either of us know what to do with ourselves. For once this whole half-breed thing is working out for me. I howl one more time, and stop.

I swear I hear footsteps.

My ear pricks up, and I press my nose to the floor, sniffing. Lovett does the same and hears what I hear, following me. The men heard us howling, and I can hear them running through the forest.

'Somebody get Charlette in the house!' I command, turning and running back to join my friends and family. 'They're here.'
* * * * *
Lovett and I stand protectively in front of our family and friends, sharp teeth bared. Behind us, everyone except Zeeva, who rushed inside to protect Charlette, stand in measured positions, ready to attack at any given moment.

Men rush to stand before us in a line, considerably lacking since we last saw them. I do notice, however, that some of them are new. Where do they find these guys?

At the front of it all stands the man responsible for all of this, beige trench coat, hat and all. He has a bored expression on his face, but I can see how his eyes zealously dart around, plotting. His gaze focuses on me. Why is it always me?

"Ah, why am I not surprised that you are one of the only two who can change when the moon is not at its fullest?"

I arch my back and snarl at him. Lovett does the same.

"Hm. I take it this is your brother," he says, his eyes barely glancing in Lovett's direction before they focus back on me. "My son told me that you are quite beautiful when in your human form. Perhaps I will see it at some point as when we had our little confrontation by the van's, you were hidden as a shadow in the light and the last time I saw you before that, you were so small. We'll fix that though." His smile is devious, and I crouch low.

"Now, while this has all been good fun, if you'll give me Gabrielle and the girl, I won't have to kill any of you. Today, at least. I just want to take them somewhere safe for my granddaughter to be raised. No big deal."

I snarl again, translating, "Over my dead body."

He tsks us. "Too bad. You could have all made this so made this so much easier on yourselves. Oh well." His gaze focuses back on me. "Men, attack. Save the wolf-girl for me. I want to enjoy this one."

The men charge all of the people and Lovett, but I run straight at Damien's father. This is where it all started, fitting that this be where it ends. We ignore the fighting around us and circle each other, sizing each other up.

He feigns attacking from my left, and I see it. I lunge at him dead center and land on his chest. I snarl at him, snapping my teeth near his throat, and he smiles sadistically up at me. Not at me, past me.

A shadow looms over me, and I look up in time to see a giant man reach down and grab me, wrapping one arm around my torso and clutching my forelegs with his other.

It's Andre.

I notice that he has something around his neck. I look closely and realize it's the shock collar that Damien had him put on me. The world is cruel.

"Yes, I see you remember our dear friend Andre. He had to be punished after that little faux pa back in Pennsylvania. I saw it fitting that we give him a taste of his own medicine. Please, fight him, my dear wolf, fight so that I can shock you too."

I look down at Damien's father and up at the sad eyes of the only person who helped us back at the house. I can't let this man hurt Andre. It would make me as bad as them. I let Andre lift and carry me away towards the house. My friends and family are focused on who they're fighting—too focused to notice Andre, Damien's dad, and I walking toward the house. We enter, and Andre puts me down.

"Alright, wolf. Take me to what I came to collect."

I growl at him, but he reaches into his pocket to pull Andre's remote out. I take note that it's made out of plastic before huffing at him and leading the pair upstairs to the bedrooms.

'Hide the girls under the bed and be ready to fight,' I tell Zeeva as we get upstairs. I act like I don't know where they are, sniffing the ground to buy us time.

Damien's father is losing patience. "Show us where they are, or I will blow this house to the ground with all of you in it."

I growl at him and turn around, heading towards Lunette's room. I sit by the door grudgingly and wait for them to open it. Damien's father smiles down at me triumphantly as he reaches his hand out to open the door. He's dragging the moment out for dramatic effect, and I would bite him right now if Andre wasn't on the line.

The door opens, but no one is there. Damien's father steps inside and aims his gun around with a paranoid glint in his eyes. I stay in the hallway, remaining stoic so as not to give away anyone's location. I don't even know what Zeeva did with the mother and child.

Damien's father turns around and thrusts the closet door open quickly. Just as he does that, Zeeva scrambles silently out from under the bed and attacks. I join her and leap at the tall man from the side, my claws tearing at his coat.

'There's a remote to the shock collar on Andre in his left pocket. Get rid of it,' I instruct her. She wastes no time. Having hopped onto his back, she reaches into his pocket and pulls the remote out, careful not to press the button. She throws it to Andre and hops off of the man before he can hurt her. I, on the other hand, cling to him, my claws having dug into his skin.

He snarls at me, nearly as animalistic as I am, and smacks me across the head, knocking me away. My head bangs into and splinters the wood on my aunt's bed’s headboard as black spots dance across my eyes. Zeeva kneels by my side, worried. Damien's father grabs Andre by the arm and leads him out of the room. I ignore Zeeva and dash after them, dizzied but determined. I leave my brother and family to continue waging the war outside and hurry after the men.

'Help the others,' I tell Zeeva. 'Once I catch up, Andre'll help me take him down.'

I don't look back to see if Zeeva listened. A trail of bloody drops on the floor leads me to the men. My vision swims and blurs every now and then as I race out of the house, but I don't let it deter me. I'm right on their heels as we hurry out of the house, and I follow them into the bordering forest. Battle wages behind us, but I can't let myself think about that right now.

When I find them a few yards into the woods, Damien's father is stumbling, clutching desperately to his gored arm. Andre stands behind him, fury filling his features. The fur on my back stands as I crawl toward them, growling. Andre steps away, glancing at his master triumphantly. Fear plays across Damien's father's face, and I no longer see the cruel man who killed my parents and uncle. I now see only a wuss who uses distractions to his advantage and hides behind a gun and the muscle of others, never fighting unless he'll win for sure.

Saliva drips from my fangs as I bare my teeth at him. He backs away slowly like you would with a regular wolf.

But of course, I'm no average wolf.

I follow him as he backs into a tree, unmasked terror in every crevice of his face. I stay low to the floor as I approach, dragging this moment of triumph out. He isn't going anywhere, and even if he did, I'm faster and stronger and could take him down in seconds. But I want him to feel this one. This is personal.

"Andre! Do something!" He commands the giant. The brute simply shrugs and leans casually against a tree, gesturing for me to go for it. I feel a strange sense of déjà vu at the similarities between now and when Cannan killed Damien; the Dupont men really have to learn how to better choose their staff. I turn back to my terrified victim, licking my chops.

Damien's father's eyes widen—I'm now about a foot away from him. I pounce on his ankle and sink my teeth into it. He screams out in agony, falling to the floor. I should leave him like that. Leave him there to writhe in pain as the werewolf bite overtakes him and he turns into the very thing that he hates with every fiber of his being—the very thing he despises more than anything else in this world. As the pain of the bite begins to consume him, I sink another one into the center of his chest, this time taking skin away with me. He screams out in more unbearable pain, his hand covering the gaping wound as I hover over him. Sweat pours down his face, and I snap my fangs at him. I distantly hear the fight pausing and hurried footsteps beginning as people come to see what the commotion is about.

I snarl at him, making like I'll bit his neck at any moment. "Please!" he begs, tears mingling with the sweat. "Just kill me! Don't leave me like this! Don't turn me into what you are! Please!"

I look down at his pathetic figure, and sink my teeth into his neck, severing his jugular. As blood spurts out of the wound, I remain hovering over him. As the life drains out of him, his eyes stare up at me, the very creature that he spent his life hunting and the very person who he hated above all others. When the life finally leaves his eyes as hollow and empty as his soul, I turn and sniff in his pockets, pulling the key to Andre's collar out with a single claw. I tug it out into the grass, huff at Damien's father one more time, and turn away from the clearing, walking back to the house.

No one follows me, but I wait until I'm inside to Transform back and walk upstairs to shower and change. I have the coppery taste of blood in my mouth, and I want to get rid of it.

Monique decides that now is an appropriate time to make an appearance. 'I have to say, you've really come a long way. I might even go so far as to say that I'm impressed. Stay on this track, and Death will be just as proud.'

For once, I don't tell her to shut up or leave me alone. As I walk into the bathroom with my clothes bundled in my arm, a twisted, cynical smile crosses my face.

I suddenly have the strange urge to cackle.