My Little Ventrue Pt. 06 Ch. 08

His turn. As she got up, he threw his weight at her, and drove his shoulder into her chest, while grabbing her thighs so she couldn't touch the floor, picking her up. Anyone else would have had the wind knocked out of them, but the vampire slammed her fists down on his back. The single second was enough for her to hit him thrice, before her back crashed into one of the cubicles. He was bulldozing forward, and with his new weight and hers combined, they broke through it, through the desk, the monitor on it, and through the next cubicle over, before he forced his shoulders down to slam her back against the next desk.

"F... fuck you," she said from underneath him. "Invictus dog. Just another tit sucking st—"

He punched her in the face, drove his knuckles down against her mouth hard enough to knock half her teeth out, and earn a shriek of agony. She clutched her jaw and mouth and started rolling from side to side, staring at him for two seconds with total hatred, before her eyes closed as she rolled in pain. Maybe vampires were sensitive to having their fangs punched in? Good to know.

He got up, turned around, and groaned, as Caleb climbed over the windowsill to join them.

"You're good," he said. "Haven't seen anyone fight like that in a long time."

Eric spit blood to the floor, and faced the man as he brought his fists up, elbows up. "Uratha all fight like you? You're just untrained thugs."

Caleb roared at him, and took another step toward him. And began to grow. His steps became heavy, until Eric felt the vibration of weight. His clothes disappeared, fading into his body as fur began to overwhelm him. His shoulders exploded in size, doubling, tripling, quadrupling in mass as Caleb's head leaned forward, new body haunched, with colossal arms of pure muscle hanging. A red tint came through the fur, hints of it, highlighting the waves of short gray.

His steps were no longer in boots, but enormous claws, and each step forced the claws an inch into the tile. The titan stared up at him, nine feet tall, and rumbled a growl deep in his chest, causing the room to vibrate, and for Eric to shiver in kind. Caleb sniffed, no doubt catching Eric's scent with a renewed hunger. His mouth was open a little, enough for his breathing to be audible, slow, deep, no thought given to being quiet. The hulking beast took another step forward, and Eric noticed a small tail swish behind him, before his eyes were drawn back to his gigantic size, the barrel chest and python arms, and their huge claws.

"Change," Caleb said. "I am... curious." He struggled to enunciate, big tongue fighting to create syllables against the contours of his long snout and sharp teeth. "If you... are Ghost Wolf, then I... will test you."

Eric gulped, and stepped back again before inching to the side to put a couple cubicles between him and the werewolf. "I—"

A rush of blood flowed up into Eric's chest, and he stumbled back a step as he clutched at his sternum, fingers digging into his shirt. His heart rate skyrocketed, and his breathing became quickened pants. He tried to breathe, to slow it down, but his body wasn't listening. His pulse drummed in his ears, like a quartet pounding on a set of drums in a tribal rhythm. Dum dum. Dum dum. Dum dum.

"You feel, don't you?" Caleb said, stepping in closer. "Feel the call. The madness." Closer the beast came, and Eric fell back onto his ass as he stared up at the werewolf. "It sings. It beckons. The hunt beckons."

Eric gulped and forced himself back onto his feet, only to find himself standing a single foot from the Uratha. Caleb towered over him, buried him underneath his mass, and a drop of drool fell from his chops onto the office building floor. If the man wanted to kill him, he could have done so. He was waiting, and hard as it was to read a wolf's expression, it looked like he was smiling.

"Change."

"I... I won't. I'm not trying to kill you."

"Need not kill. Blood. No kill. Besides." He leaned down, and brought his teeth within inches of Eric's face. "You fuck vampire, in this sacred form. You can control it. Fight me, and I will test. Come."

It was a drug pumping through his veins. It was a siren's song, beckoning him. It was power and hunger surging up through his body and into his extremities, demanding satisfaction. Something about being near this creature, a fellow werewolf in his most grand form, was calling to Eric. Join in. Change. Transform. Unleash the beast of war within.

Eric lowered his head, but all he found were enormous talons beneath him, Caleb's. He remembered those talons, remembered the feel of them sinking into wood, tile, concrete, and stone under his weight. He looked higher, to the fellow werewolf's claws, and the enormous hands. They were hands he'd wrapped around Jessy, and had delighted in taking her small body, and pulling her down onto his length, forcing it into a hole far too small for it. He also remembered grabbing hunters, tossing them aside like pebbles. He remembered Pitt, barely, flashes and images of tearing him and his goons apart. He looked higher, and winced as he found Caleb's teeth closer, two inches from Eric's eyes. He remembered biting into people, and how satisfying it'd been to split flesh and crunch bone between his jaws. It was more than satisfaction, it was a requirement, a piece of him that demanded he indulge it. To bite, and tear, and hunt, and kill, were no more different than a spider weaving a web. Pure instinct.

He gave into instinct.

Caleb stepped back and gave him room, a strange, inhuman, knowing smile on his snout, as Eric grew to match his height. Eric's fur was darker, almost night black, but other than that, there were few differences between him and his fellow wolf. Titans of muscle and strength, tall, nine feet high, and with long arms that reached their knees since they were haunched forward. Their enormous necks jutted forward from mountainous shoulders, and they pointed their ears at each other as they both offered acknowledging rumbles.

"You fuck vampire, like this?" Caleb said, and reached out with his two hands to push against Eric's shoulders. He might as well have lit a hidden river of gasoline in Eric's gut, with the way a simple shove ignited a feral drive in him. If he was trying to make a point, about how easy it was to go insane with rage in this form, he'd made it.

No longer was Eric forced to obey mass and inertia without a way to fight back. His talons gripped into the floor, and he shoved back against Caleb, harder. His fellow wolf had no choice but to step back, or he'd fall over.

Eric focused on his breathing, and made sure every one went deep into his belly. Breathe. Easier said than done. Seeing another werewolf in the Gauru form was wind fueling the fire in his chest, warm, inviting, and intoxicating. It spoke in words that called to him, delicious and almost erotic. Hunt. Find prey. Kill prey. Devour. Land. Territory. Defend. But, it wasn't taking him over, not yet.

He thought of Jessy, of her naked body pressed against his fur. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, enjoying the memory of her, of her voice, of her animal ferocity. This Caleb fucker wanted to see just how comfortable he was in this form, how comfortable he was as an Uratha, he guessed. How comfortable was he? The Uratha thought he was crazy for having sex in this form. He kind of did, too.

"The moon," Eric said, taking a step toward Caleb, offering a snarl, "it says I... that... I—"

Caleb roared at him, and began to circle him, as best as he could in the small space available to the titans. "Luna speaks to you?"

"It does." He returned the roar, quick, more of a bark than anything. Debby and Kathy had crawled away, and both vampires were watching now, eyes wide, butts to the floor and weight on their palms behind them. Out of the way enough so they wouldn't get ripped in half accidentally. Hopefully.

"It? She, worm. She... speaks to Cahalith, in visions." Caleb paced to the other side, and dragged a claw along the cubicle, causing the soft wall to crumble downward under the casual weight and pressure. "Why speak to you?"

"I am Cahalith." He snarled, and came in a little closer. "She warns me."

"You have no right... to speak to Luna, Ghost Wolf."

That offended Eric. He didn't know why it offended him, but it did. It burned his skin, and heated it, heated his throat and core, sending blood and adrenaline pulsing. He demanded satisfaction.

"I am me. I am myself." He crouched, readying his pounce. This was going to be a duel between monsters, and that deserved a little respect, at least. No sucker punches.

Caleb did the same, rumbling in his chest as he did. "We shall see."

They both roared at each other, and the two vampires watching were forced to cover their ears as the vibrations of animal sounds filled the office building. This bastard used the Invictus and Carthian squabble as an excuse to put Eric to the test. Well, fuck him.

They pounced at each other, and for a moment, Eric thought he pounced an oncoming truck. Eric tried to grab the man's hands, but Caleb slammed both hands downward with his claws out. A bad move for a human to do in a fight, but a great move to do if you're a werewolf with enormous claws. Two seconds into this fight and Eric already made a mistake, one Caleb predicted.

Claws tore through Eric's forearms, causing blood to gush and splatter everywhere, particularly over Caleb. He wasn't a vampire. His blood made no effort to stay inside his body. Instead, it gushed, the claw marks on his arms deep and slicing through veins and muscles alike. Eric's roars turned into howls, and Caleb snapped and barked twice, before lunging in, and sinking his teeth into Eric's neck.

Werewolves heal quickly. Muscles and veins mended, and as the skin sealed, Eric got one hand onto Caleb's shoulder, and tried to push him away. His other grabbed the man's jaw, and pulled down, forcing pressure off the teeth tearing through his neck. When Caleb pulled away, Eric lifted his leg out to kick. His new body was not made for kicking. It didn't have the correct center of gravity, or the correct... anything. Another mistake Caleb took advantage of, stepping back clear out of the range of the kick, and then he pounced forward, undoing the space Eric created.

Caleb's weight slammed into him again, and the beast wasted no time, getting into a full mount. But, unlike a human, Caleb didn't straddle and try and rain hammer fists down on him. Instead, the titan started tearing at his chest and shoulders with his claws, and leaned down to once again start biting at Eric. Thankfully, Eric managed to get his forearm in the way, jamming it under Caleb's neck, but the beast was still sitting on him, tearing into him, while Eric couldn't retaliate at all.

Stop letting your trained reflexes guide you. You're not human, you're a beast, a monster. Fight like one.

Eric roared, loud, loud enough it was deafening, and Caleb paused as the unnatural howl smashed into his person. Half a second, more than enough time for Eric to turn his head, and use the reach of his neck and snout, to sink his teeth around Caleb's wrist.

The taste of flesh was haunting and intoxicating. It was delicious. But this was the first time he'd tasted werewolf flesh, and he was not prepared for the overwhelming, overpowering, exquisite taste. If sin and vice had a flavor, it would be this.

Caleb ripped his arm away as he jumped back, leaving behind a chunk of flesh in Eric's mouth. He stared at Eric for a moment, and as Eric got up, Caleb shook his snout from side to side, dislodging bits of Eric's skin and flesh from his own teeth.

"Do not eat flesh. Not of kin, or of man. It will undo you."

Eric, preparing to swallow down the enticing meal in his mouth, stared at Caleb, and froze. He wanted to swallow it down. God, every part of him wanted to swallow it down, devour, feast on the flesh of someone as powerful as Caleb. But Caleb wasn't tricking him. The man had not swallowed Eric's flesh, and the weight of his voice sounded like a man trying to be calm and serious. Being a werewolf, Eric doubted Caleb would be able to tell convincing lies in the Gauru form. It was a mode of pure, honest aggression and desire, not subtlety and suave words.

He could trust this beast, in this way. A laughable stereotype, that you can always trust the honesty of the fist, but it applied. Eric let the meat flop from his mouth, and it melted into a small pool of blood, with a couple bits of skin. Of course, no werewolf part would stay werewolf once removed. But, for that moment, before it changed back to human, there was a chance Eric could have eaten it.

It tasted divine, ambrosia, but he shook his head until his own saliva washed the bastard's blood away.

"Good," Caleb said, growling an almost pleased sound, before he resumed crouching, ready to pounce at him. He didn't come at him though. Instead, the colossal beast crouched lower, and moved toward a shadow, toward the rest of the remaining cubicles. "We are not mindless. We are in control." His voice blended to the shadow, fading throughout the office building and its high ceilings.

Eric could no longer see him. He was gone.

Growling all the more, Eric started to prowl around, goliath hands resting on cubicles as he began the hunt. Another word drifted through his mind, describing this Caleb, labeling him. Irraka. Sneaky creatures. Assassins in the world of wolves. Irraka would come at him from the side or behind, go for the hamstrings, try and wound him before going in for the kill.

No, he wouldn't go for the kill. For all the aggression and violence the two of them were swimming in, Caleb didn't want to kill him, only test him. That didn't mean the man wouldn't bring him close to it, though. And the man made it clear he was more comfortable fighting in the Gauru form than Eric was.

The instinct was there, but as long as Eric didn't let the rage and hunger inside him overwhelm him, as long as he kept breathing, that instinct was on a leash. That wasn't helping him. Keeping it on a leash meant his human reflexes and training were getting in the way. That's what Caleb was testing, to see how Eric could control himself when shit hit the fan, and someone was trying to tear out his throat.

Rumbling, Eric continued to circle around, slowly walking about and through the office building, between the cubicles, each step slow, no longer sinking his foot claws into the tile. Carefully, slowly, he moved around, and stopped as he came to stand beside the two vampires. They'd both backed up against the wall, and were staring, sitting, jaws dropped, eyes on him.

He crouched down beside them, and rumbled in his throat, like a crocodile. They both squeaked, and their eyes drifted down his body, his mass, before up to his mouth and the massive teeth. They were still injured, and weren't healing anymore. Either they were tapped, and wouldn't be healing without a fresh meal or a day's sleep, or they were too shocked to do anything other than stare. Probably both, by the looks in their eyes.

"Picked a fight," he said, and he rumbled another growl at them. So damn hard to talk with a snout.

Debby managed to find a little resilience, and snarled back at him. A chihuahua barking at the tiger. "Picked a fight with Jessy, because she deserves it."

He was so very tempted to pick up this tiny vampire, and use her as a club against Caleb. No, it wouldn't work. Far too fragile. With another snarl wiping the sneer off the vampire's face, he got up, and resumed his prowl, sniffing at the air. Caleb's scent trail. His scent was everywhere, but focusing on it into exact paths was his only chance of finding the bastard.

He sniffed the air, breathed deep its scent, and let the Beast in him surface; a little. His ears perked up and pointed about in different directions, catching the various sounds. The vampires were quiet, with no breathing or heartbeat. Outside the building, he could hear Jessy, Joe, and the others beat on each other. Hopefully they'd be fine. The Carthians still had four vampires out there, while Jessy only had Jonah and Hella with her. Then again, Jessy was the strongest vampire in the vicinity. She could take care of herself.

He continued along the scent, getting down onto all fours and lifting his nose with his slow steps. Further, through the warehouse building, between the cubicles. Further. He growled as he looked at the cubicles he past, his lower position half hiding his body between their walls. He could smell humans, the scent they left on their chairs and desks, their perfumes, their plants, and their computers; and some alcohol. No Caleb, though.

Wait, there he was, his scent. His nose followed it between the cubicles through the shadow, his mind painting an image of the scent trail before him, like guiding lines in hospital hallways. Vivid, distinct, and blatant in the darkness. He followed it, staying low, though considering his new shoulder span, he had to be careful to not knock over cubicles as he hunted his fellow werewolf.

Movement. Caleb charged at him, dashing from the side, between some of the short, soft walls. Fast! Holy shit. Eric jumped up and away, and the titan blurred into the shadows as he ran past him, biting at the air where Eric's head had been.

And then he was gone, fading into the shadows again. Growling, frustrated, angry, Eric haunched forward but stayed on two legs as he started following the trail Caleb left for him. The bastard was luring him, no doubt, maybe looking for Eric to catch him. Maybe—

Weight crashed into Eric's back. The fucker jumped him, sank claws into his shoulders, and sank teeth into the back of his neck. Roars filled the room, animal and alien, as Eric stood up and unleashed his rage. Caleb hadn't gone for his hamstrings, like he should have. He went for Eric's back, his body, whole mass. Maybe he wanted to pin him, defeat him swiftly, instead of drag the fight on like an Irraka should?

Mistake.

Eric reached up, high and up over his head and Caleb's, and sank his claws into the man's back, through the tough, leathery skin, and into meat. The werewolf screamed and howled into Eric's bloodied neck, but didn't let go, jerking his head left and right, trying to rip chunks of flesh out of him. Eric leaned back, and then brought all of his weight forward, as he pulled on Caleb's flesh, and threw.

Caleb turned upside down, lost his grip, and careened through the air. His back smashed into a wall of concrete between two windows, before he crashed to the floor. Blood was everywhere. It painted them, coated them, splattered the area, and rained down on the cubicles and desks. None of that mattered. All that mattered, was attacking when the opportunity presented itself. Now.

Eric charged forward. Caleb had time to stand up, but that was all he had time for, as Eric crashed into him. Not a pounce, but a full charge, each step gripping into the floor and tearing it to shreds, anchoring him and fueling his momentum. It was more than enough to drive the hundreds and hundreds of pounds of muscle his new body had, into Caleb, through the wall, and into the street.

Shit.

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~~Jack~~

Back to the tunnels.

The visit to Azamel's had been useful, in a way. It was useful to get inside Jeremiah's head and understand him more, but it didn't lend a change in their sweep choice, no chance to their tactics. Jeremiah had a personal vendetta against Azamel, as Jack had suspected, and they now knew the man had used magic to extend his life. Elen's magic? Maybe. Jeremiah seemed like a healthy fifty-year-old, while Elen looked over a hundred. If she had the ability to prevent aging, why not use it on herself from a younger age? Maybe she only learned it in her later years, and had spent hundreds of years a very old woman.