Three stories in one…
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Excerpt from chapter 2 of “Interruptions” (a short story)
“I recognize that car, Cadence. It was parked beside mine at the Harris-Teeter,” she whispered in that breathless voice. She had her cell ‘phone out and was turning it around trying to detect a signal.
I looked at the car, and could see why it would be recognizable. Damned thing was a real rust bucket with flaking green paint, and the grill looked as if it had tangled with a pole or a tree at some point and then pulled back out into some half-assed semblance of straight. Eloise had probably been relieved that whoever owned it hadn’t slammed the door into her Mercedes.
The door opened, and a big, burly guy stepped out. “You ladies need some help?” he asked, languidly. I could see two other heads in the car and the door opened out on the other side.
Uh-oh. I smelled them and knew. In my mind I said: Sam, we got a problem.
How many? he asked the same way. He knew I wouldn’t call him without a good reason. I could handle three regular human guys. These guys were not human. I surreptitiously sniffed again, to be sure of exactly what they were. Ghouls. I wondered, absently, why the hell they were bothering Eloise.
Three big ghouls, Sam. Get here fast. “Eloise,” I said quietly, “Get behind me. Don’t say anything. Let me do the talking. I don’t think they’re here to help.” They were probably the ones who’d put the antifreeze in her tank.
Taking Annamae next door, Babes, then I’m on my way. Hang tough, he said. Good daddy. He wasn’t about to leave our kid in the house alone even though it would delay him a few minutes.
The big guy walked over to us swaggering a little. I could see the two others coming around the car to start across the road. They were nearly as big as the first one. They were confident they had this. Ghouls can’t smell worth a crap so no way they knew what I was. Some paras can tell even if they can’t smell, but ghouls can’t.
I’m small as a human, though even then I’m stronger than I look. When I’m outside my neighborhood, I often pretend to struggle with heavy objects, just so I don’t get strange looks. I’m a not-so-small wolf, and even stronger then. I could probably take on three little ones though it wouldn’t be easy, but three big ghouls was a whole different bucket of bolts. I could have taken one of them, maybe even two, but three this size especially with Eloise to look out for – not so much. And I knew I’d have to change. I hoped it wouldn’t scare the bejeezus out of Eloise. Maybe she’d just faint and roll under the car or something. Still, I wasn’t changing until I had to. Even though it’s fast, it hurts like a sonofabitch.
“We’re fine, sir,” I said as if I didn’t know what he was. “My husband is on his way.”
They looked at each other and grinned – horribly. Behind me, I heard Eloise gasp. Yeah, razor sharp teeth. She hadn’t seen yet, that they also had very long claws.
“Oh, we’ll just wait right here with you, then,” he drawled, “just to make sure you’re…safe.” The other two snickered. I could see their pointed teeth gleaming in the faint light from the far off street lamp.
They were trying to get us rattled to heighten our fear. They got off on it. I backed into Eloise as they came closer, and I could feel her shaking. I could smell her fear, too. Damn. That was just going to excite them even more. “If you don’t mind, sir, please stop right there,” I requested politely.
I’m on my way, dear, keep ‘em talking if you can, sent Sam.
Trying, but I think they’re about to attack, I sent back just as the big one abruptly moved fast, coming at me like a suddenly unleashed pit-bull, claws extended.
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Excerpt from chapter 3 of “Living in the Moment” (a novelette)
I bounded forward and went through the broken door after the ghoul. Very faintly, I could hear Eloise screaming. She was in a safe room. Too bad she didn’t have sense enough to be quiet so that the ghoul would have to hunt for her instead of just going up and starting to rip at the wall.
I started for him, but suddenly smelled one of the vampires. I needed to take it out first. I hoped the ghoul wouldn’t get into Eloise’s safe room, and turned to find the vampire.
I couldn’t see it, well, actually it was a “her”, but I knew where she was, and jumped at what appeared to be thin air, hitting Miss Fang and knocking her against the wall, which jarred her back to visibility.
She screeched and grabbed me around the neck, trying to pull my head off. I did my twist and slipped out of her grip, and bit her right leg off. I felt something rush past me as the vampire jumped up balancing on her remaining leg. Boy was she pissed. Those take a while to grow back.
She changed into that huge bat-thingy with three-inch fangs they can become, and came at me. That was a bad move on her part. Not enough room to stretch those wings out. She must have been relatively young or she wouldn’t have tried something like that in an enclosed area, anyway. It was the last change she ever made.
She fell forward, and we went tumbling through the living room, she trying to sink her fangs into me as we rolled, me trying to avoid that and get mine into her. We bumped and crashed into just about everything in that poor room, each trying to get the upper hand. Eloise’s stuff was taking an awful beating.
We separated, and she immediately hopped at me on her one leg, missed, and skidded into the crushed coffee table. I jumped on her back, grabbing the back of her neck in my fangs, and bit her head off. I batted the head farther into the living room and plunged my claws into her chest. Taking her head off would kill her, but I wanted to be sure. She started crumbling into a pile of dust. Okay, beg pardon. That was the last change she ever made.
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Excerpt from chapter 2 of “A Blankie for Baby” (a novella)
“Fight’s in the woods to the left!” I yelled, turning and running the few feet to the tree line.
As soon as we passed the first trees, I shucked my clothes and changed on the run, and from the grunts I heard, so did the other three. The transformation is always instantaneous and painful. You get used to it after a while but it can still wring a groan or two from you sometimes.
As a wolf, I was just as large as the male and a lot bigger than the females. I could tell they were surprised but we all kept running toward the sound of the fighting.
We burst through the trees and into a clearing to see three werewolves surrounded by a slew of ghouls and several…things. From the shriveled remains on the ground in various places, there had been more ghouls, and from the ugly sulfurous smell lingering in the air, the things were demons.
I jumped on the back of a big bruiser of a ghoul, extended my claws and ripped his back open. My claws shredded his heart, and I quickly flipped the remains away and whipped around to find myself facing one of the demon thingies. Shit. Shit. Shit. I abhorred demons.
My face and head had been ripped open by a demon during that battle over eleven years ago, and my scar was now throbbing as if in memory of it. We circled, each looking for an opening, some kind of weakness.
Cady, they’re minor demons. I dispatched one by hamstringing it. Go for its legs! Sam sent urgently.
Trying, I sent.
I darted in snapping at its ankles and dodged away just as it grew rapier sharp blades from its fingers and swiped at me. Yikes. Shades of Wolverine! Fucking copy-cat! I rushed back in between its legs and it stumbled. Yes! I twisted around and grabbed its scabrous looking calf in my jaws and bit down – yuck it tasted awful – it screeched out in a high pitched whistle and brought those blades down again but I was already moving and it only managed to clip some of the fur on the left side of my head. Damn.
If I survived this, I was going to have to even up my hair on the other side. Good thing I wore it short.
I saw the smoky fumes coming from the holes I’d put in its calf and I did a roll and wriggle and grabbed the other leg and bit through its ankle. Its foot came off amid more reeking fumes and the demon vanished, dispatched back to Hell. Whew.
Something smacked me in the top of the head and though I was seeing stars, I pushed off and twisted around to see a ghoul drawing back his ham fist to have another try at busting my head open. He must not have been too experienced at this. Everybody knew you couldn’t bash a werewolf’s head open that way. Skull’s too hard.
I whipped around and extended my claws and the ghoul looked at me in shock. That claw-extension thing of mine takes ‘em by surprise, sometimes.
The dumb-shit goon yelled, with indignation: “You ain’t no damned cat! How th’ hell…!” He didn’t get any further with that thought as my not-supposed-to-be-able-to-be-extended claws took his head off just then, as I leaped high and swiped hard. Then I opened his chest up and pulled his heart out and tossed it into the trees. The ghoul immediately began that shriveling thing they do when killed.
Stupid-ass. Who the hell stops to get outraged during a fight to the death?
P.B. Cannon: A Teller of Tales 