Fifteen year old Ethan trudged along the dark river in the dark night. Careful to avoid anything that would trip him and send him into the merciless, whooshing dark waters. His longish brown hair seemed to stand up straight, and his black eyes flickered in the darkness, though he couldn’t see anything. There was no moon out, so he couldn’t transform into his preferred form.
His werewolf form.
The werewolf form he changed to was pretty close to the Hollywood version, though not exact. He didn’t change unwillingly every time there was a full moon; he could change anytime he wanted. Night or day as long as the moon was not covered by the clouds. And his form wasn’t a big, monstrous man that had hair everywhere and a distorted face. The Hollywood version of a werewolf’s body was fairly accurate, but a werewolf’s face just looked like, well, a wolf’s face. And he had teeth that were not just designed to kill prey; they were designed to kill vampires. And wolf’s just didn’t go crazy when they transformed, they where as sane as could be. Probably even more sane than they were in their human form. Unless they where around vampires.
He frowned as he thought about why he was at his present situation. He was in the middle of the woods, at midnight, to meet with a vampire. The vampire wasn’t supposed to attack him. She was supposed to be on their side. She was supposed to have important information that would help them defeat their enemies. She was supposed to be good.
Ethan heard a sentence in his mind that he summoned involuntarily, “You will never meet a vampire who is good.” He heard his dead mother’s raspy voice barely whisper when she was about to die.
He tried not to see the parasite’s pale, tortured face as Ethan killed him, to avenge his mother. As he tore up the vampire, as the bloodsucker burned…
He was only fourteen, and has been fourteen for only two years. But that meant nothing. He’s been through more things than any normal werewolf has been through in ten years.
If this leech did attack him tonight, he would have no way to defend himself. The moon was blocked by the clouds that night, and no moon meant they couldn’t convert to a wolf. Yes, he was stronger than a human when he was human. But not strong enough to defeat a vampire when she had that advantage.
Ethan was shivering, from the cold or from the anxiety he just realized he had. He knew he needed to relax by the time he found the parasite. He inhaled deeply, and then his nostrils flared. He smelled it. The malodorous, salty, bloody smell of a vampire. H
“And I suppose you are Ethan.” He heard a female’s musical voice murmur behind him.
Ethan fought to control himself and tried to breathe evenly. He slowly turned around, to the pitch-white stone-still immortal.