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“It’s me!” Chauvelin declared. “It’s going to be me! Attack!”
The crowd of vampires surged forward. Maddox was not concerned for himself, but he needed to protect Lorien and Will at all costs. He dropped all pretense at humanity and became the thing all humanity has feared from the beginning of time. His fangs grew terrifyingly long, and his eyes shifted silver black.
His human features were consumed by the ancient evil that usually slumbered at the core of him, making him more fierce than ever. Wings sprouted from his shoulders, a vast black expanse of black bat skin tipped with clawed ends. His span cast a shadow over the approaching army of young vampires who could never have dreamed of being what he now was. He could kill a half dozen vampires in this form. There was none who could stand against him.
But it was not enough to stop an army of irate, starving fledglings and ferals with no sense, no intellect, nothing in their minds besides the need to kill. And Maddox, no matter how powerful he was, could not kill all of them. They would overwhelm him; they would sweep around him and attack Lorien and Will. He was going to lose everything, even if he himself survived.
To have been outwitted and outplayed by a mere fledgling, what an embarrassment. He’d made precisely the same mistake the twins had. He’d let a younger, weaker vampire best him because he didn't see him as a threat. He had mere fractions of a second to realize this and come to terms with it before the hopeless battle ensued.
But it did not happen the way he thought it would. There was so much screaming and shouting he barely heard the sound at first. It was a snarl, and then a growl, and then a roar. A black streak of fur and fang charged over Maddox’s head in an athletic bound.
It was Will. It was also not Will.
It was at least a thousand pounds of pure slavering fury, teeth as long as Mad’s forearm, and it was furious. It went through the vampire army like a hot knife through screaming butter trying to flee for its life.
The killing was not over quickly. It took time. Brutal, bone snapping, flesh rending, brain devouring time. Vampires did not die easily. Many of them tried to run, but the exits were limited due to Chauvelin’s plan to ensure Maddox and his boys would not escape easily. A narrow funnel of panicked undead clogged the rear, leaving the bulk of the poor soulless soldiers to attempt to face the werewolf.
Maddox looked on with a sense of welling pride matched with relief. Not only had they been spared a brutal and ignominious end, but Will had finally connected with a part of himself he had been isolated from his entire life, a part that had controlled him despite being unknown, and made him destroy everything he touched because he did not understand himself.
He was free. He was fully himself. He was a beautiful creature of pure power and life bringing death. And he belonged to Maddox through and through.
When every last vampire was dispatched, Will collapsed, entirely spent, and entirely human again.
Maddox rushed to his side, relieved to find a light pulse fluttering. The overall picture was not good. Will was not consciousness, nor was he asleep. His eyes were wide open in a very disturbing, unseeing way. There was bruising beginning to spread over almost every part of his skin, signs that what just happened to him was dangerous.
“He just saved our lives,” Lorien said, shocked.
“And now we need to save his. We’re going home. Call the doctor.”
There was no time to follow up the strays and stragglers, to inflict any more pain, or to worry about any further reprisals. Right now the only thing Maddox cared about, the only thing that mattered at all, was saving Will.
17 GETTING BETTER
“He’s been through a massive trauma,” the doctor confirmed. “I don’t know what you’ve done to him, but his muscles and bones appear to have been broken and ripped in ways I’ve not seen outside the morgue. He’s suffering from rhabdomyolysis. I’ve started a drip that should help.”
“Is he going to survive?”
“I think so. Yes. But whatever was done to him can never be done again. I hope you understand, it almost killed him.”
“I do. Thank you, doctor.”
“It’s so strange because I can’t detect any actual current injury. But his blood…”
“Thank you, doctor,” Maddox interrupted. He had no intention of letting the legend of the werewolf become anything like fact for humans. The revelation of vampire existence, limited as it was, had caused more than enough chaos.
With the doctor dismissed, Maddox returned to sit beside Will’s bed for hours and then days. Will’s sleep was deep, the IV providing fluids to keep him alive. Maddox tended him as carefully as he would have an infant, changing the bedding when it needed to be changed.
Lorien was not overly helpful, but he did keep his mouth shut which was a blessing and a gift. And he kept things quiet. Maddox refused to be pulled from Will’s bedside for any reason. He was determined to be there when his whelp awoke.
These were days of quiet, meditative patience. He wanted desperately to speak with Will, to hear his voice and to see his bright gaze, but he knew it would take time. Before Will, time slipped along in a meaningless sort of river. Maddox barely remembered any of the events of the last thirty years or so at all, but these thirty days with Will each stood out as unique in his mind, and now the wait was as excruciating as any anticipation could be.
Thirty days later…
Will opened his eyes and smiled. He’d never smiled upon waking before. It was a novel experience in the extreme. For a second, he didn’t remember anything. He had vague impressions of power and freedom beyond any he had ever experienced before, of fully inhabiting his body in a way he never had before.
“Fuck yes,” he cursed.
“Yes what, boy?”
