Season of the Wolf Pt. 02

I took to the woods in my wolf form under the assumption that wherever Christine was, Rod wouldn't be too far behind her. I followed his trail to the river bottoms. I only intended to follow him. Perhaps, get lucky enough for my wolf to drive him away from the territory. I thought Coyote and Grace would make it through and be on their way. But, Rod suddenly changed course and headed right for them. There wasn't really anything else I could have done.

I stand on wobbly legs and adjust to walking on two feet instead of four paws. It takes me a minute, but I finally manage the task. I make my way to one of my many emergency backpacks hidden in the woods and quickly dress. I'm freezing, but it has nothing to do with the drafty winter temperature. It's the things I've already done so early in this war that have my heart turning into a block of ice.

Grace is safe. That's the main thing. No matter what happens she and the baby will be neatly tucked away out of the thick of it. I shove the splintered remnants of my humanity away in an untouchable place at the back of my mind. This is a war of paranormals and my human side has no place in it. I'm hard as steel, focused and sharp as a razor's cutting edge. This is the man...the thing... I'll need to become to win this war.

I whistle low between my teeth and hope that for once, Horse has a mind to obey his master. I stink of wolf and blood and I'm not certain that Horse in his better judgment will let me hitch a ride. He trots, bounding through the woods and gives me a wary sniff as he approaches. I speak softly to him and take the reins. He doesn't like it, but he's agreed to take me on as a passenger.

Right now, I'm in agreement with him. I don't like me very much either. My cover story is rock solid. Grace and Coyote got spooked and after their little run in with Rod, they ran. Van of course, will offer his assistance in locating them. Not that it'll do any good. Coyote is a crafty son of a bitch, and he'll make sure there's no trail to be followed. Naturally, I won't be able to assist in the efforts of Van's vampires to track them down. I'll be too busy helping him plan a war.

I ride to the river bottoms, to the spot where I killed Rod. The body, or what little of it my wolf left behind, is scattered in bits and pieces, leaving puddles of gore, white bone, and entrails strewn for yards in any direction. I've already turned off the parts of me that would be horrified over what my wolf has done and stare at the mess indifferently. I've seen brutality before. And the hardened warrior inside of me, the blood of my ancestors flowing through my veins is vindicated. I should leave him here as a warning to any enemy who dares to cross into my territory. Let him rot and become food for the scavengers of the woods.

I tuck my love for Grace away in the secret compartment in the back of my mind. She will keep my humanity safe and intact. She is my beacon that will light my way home when the time comes. Neither Grace nor my humanity has any place here.

Van crouches to the side of what was once Rod's torso but is now a bloody pile of flesh and bone. He says nothing and really, what is there to say? His stance confirms what I already know. The enemy is in our backyard. Van has seen this kind of violence before. I read it in his stoic expression and the way his war weary eyes focus on mine. His mouth is drawn tightly into a hard line. The both of us know this is only the beginning. The flash of lightening in the distant horizon predicting an oncoming storm and that the worst of it has yet to hit land.