after all, a vampire.
With a shudder, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Once, she had thought that being a vampire was the worst thing in the world. Now, contemplating the possibility that she might become a werewolf, she wasn't so sure. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Maybe she was worrying for nothing. Vasile had been in human form when he bit her. As far as she knew, werewolves had to be in wolf form to create another werewolf.
She clung to that thought as bits and pieces of what she had read on the Internet flitted through her mind. Throughout the mythology of the known world, there were stories of humans transforming into animal shapes. Odin had changed himself into an eagle. Loki had taken on the form of a fish. The Greek gods had often transformed into beasts, the better to move among men in secrecy. Jupiter had changed into a bull, Hecuba into a dog.
It was believed that werewolves didn't age and were immune to most human diseases. Not only that, but their bodies were constantly regenerating, which made them pretty much immortal. And since they also healed rapidly, the only way to kill one was to inflict a mortal wound to the heart or the brain.
There were various ways to become a werewolf, such as through sorcery, being bitten by a werewolf, being cursed by a witch, or being born to a werewolf. People who were turned into werewolves against their will weren't considered damned until they tasted human blood; once that happened, they were forever cursed.
Regan thought briefly of Vasile and the people he had killed and mutilated. Surely he deserved to be damned for all eternity…
She lifted a hand to the bandage on her neck, her stomach churning as she imagined herself transforming into a wolf and prowling the moonlit streets of the city looking for prey. A wave of hysterical laughter rose in her throat. Maybe she could go hunting with Santiago! He could drink the blood and she would eat the flesh. She shuddered at the thought. She didn't want to be a werewolf. She didn't want to be cursed forever.
Thinking to dispel her morbid thoughts, she turned on the Satellite Screen, grateful for the sound of human voices. She found an old Tom Hanks comedy, hoping it would distract her, but to no avail. The word "werewolf" whispered in her mind over and over again and with it came the horrific images of the mutilated bodies in the park.
Huddled in a corner of the sofa, she stared at the television screen and waited for sunset.
----
Chapter 11
Santiago rose at dusk. He paused at the door between his lair and the bedroom closet, listening. Only when he had ascertained that Regan wasn't in the adjoining room did he leave his lair.
He found her in the living room, curled up in a corner of the sofa, asleep. He studied her face a moment, noting that her complexion was still pale. There were dark shadows under her eyes, hollows in her cheeks. She looked worried, even in sleep. He supposed he couldn't blame her. Given a choice, he knew he would rather be a vampire than a werewolf. He wondered if, given the choice, Regan would feel the same.
Sitting beside her on the sofa, he gently brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.
She woke with a start, her body tensing, her eyes widening with fear.
"Do not be afraid," he said quietly. "It is only me."
She blew out a sigh of relief as she slumped back against the sofa once again. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"Fine, now, but…" She looked up at him, her eyes haunted. "Joaquin, I don't want to be a werewolf. If… if it happens…" She shuddered. "If I start to turn furry, I want you to…" She took a deep breath. "I want you to do whatever you have to."
"Let us not worry about that now. It is rumored that there is a cure."
She sat up, her eyes alight with interest. "A cure? Where?"
He told her quickly of the little he knew about the shaman in the Black Hills.
"I have to go there," she said, her voice rising with excitement. "Will you… never mind."
"Will I
With a shudder, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Once, she had thought that being a vampire was the worst thing in the world. Now, contemplating the possibility that she might become a werewolf, she wasn't so sure. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Maybe she was worrying for nothing. Vasile had been in human form when he bit her. As far as she knew, werewolves had to be in wolf form to create another werewolf.
She clung to that thought as bits and pieces of what she had read on the Internet flitted through her mind. Throughout the mythology of the known world, there were stories of humans transforming into animal shapes. Odin had changed himself into an eagle. Loki had taken on the form of a fish. The Greek gods had often transformed into beasts, the better to move among men in secrecy. Jupiter had changed into a bull, Hecuba into a dog.
It was believed that werewolves didn't age and were immune to most human diseases. Not only that, but their bodies were constantly regenerating, which made them pretty much immortal. And since they also healed rapidly, the only way to kill one was to inflict a mortal wound to the heart or the brain.
There were various ways to become a werewolf, such as through sorcery, being bitten by a werewolf, being cursed by a witch, or being born to a werewolf. People who were turned into werewolves against their will weren't considered damned until they tasted human blood; once that happened, they were forever cursed.
Regan thought briefly of Vasile and the people he had killed and mutilated. Surely he deserved to be damned for all eternity…
She lifted a hand to the bandage on her neck, her stomach churning as she imagined herself transforming into a wolf and prowling the moonlit streets of the city looking for prey. A wave of hysterical laughter rose in her throat. Maybe she could go hunting with Santiago! He could drink the blood and she would eat the flesh. She shuddered at the thought. She didn't want to be a werewolf. She didn't want to be cursed forever.
Thinking to dispel her morbid thoughts, she turned on the Satellite Screen, grateful for the sound of human voices. She found an old Tom Hanks comedy, hoping it would distract her, but to no avail. The word "werewolf" whispered in her mind over and over again and with it came the horrific images of the mutilated bodies in the park.
Huddled in a corner of the sofa, she stared at the television screen and waited for sunset.
----
Chapter 11
Santiago rose at dusk. He paused at the door between his lair and the bedroom closet, listening. Only when he had ascertained that Regan wasn't in the adjoining room did he leave his lair.
He found her in the living room, curled up in a corner of the sofa, asleep. He studied her face a moment, noting that her complexion was still pale. There were dark shadows under her eyes, hollows in her cheeks. She looked worried, even in sleep. He supposed he couldn't blame her. Given a choice, he knew he would rather be a vampire than a werewolf. He wondered if, given the choice, Regan would feel the same.
Sitting beside her on the sofa, he gently brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.
She woke with a start, her body tensing, her eyes widening with fear.
"Do not be afraid," he said quietly. "It is only me."
She blew out a sigh of relief as she slumped back against the sofa once again. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"Fine, now, but…" She looked up at him, her eyes haunted. "Joaquin, I don't want to be a werewolf. If… if it happens…" She shuddered. "If I start to turn furry, I want you to…" She took a deep breath. "I want you to do whatever you have to."
"Let us not worry about that now. It is rumored that there is a cure."
She sat up, her eyes alight with interest. "A cure? Where?"
He told her quickly of the little he knew about the shaman in the Black Hills.
"I have to go there," she said, her voice rising with excitement. "Will you… never mind."
"Will I
Similar Books
