Why I Shouldn't Work With a Werewolf: A Samuel the Vampire Novel
Author: James T. Carpenter
Date: 2016-04-25 07:00:00+00:00
Description: As a special agent of VATE (Vampires Against the Evil), Samuel Johnson is no stranger to ridding the world of unsavory creatures. But in this Midwestern shopping mall, on this seemingly typical Friday night, Samuel faces his greatest challenge yet. Under orders from his superiors, the vampire must track down and capture a sinister vampwolf, while rescuing any humans that remain under its threat. And to make matters worse, he’ll have to complete his mission working side-by-side with an ancient enemy of vampirekind—one of the wild, impulsive Hairy Ones known more commonly as werewolves. As if de
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

Why I Shouldn’t Work with a

Werewolf

A Samuel the Vampire Novel

James T Carpenter

This is a work of fiction. All the characters, events, and organizations in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people, events, or organizations are purely coincidental.

Cover illustration by Bethany Fast

Copyright © 2016 James T Carpenter

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1523440899

ISBN 13: 9781523440894

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016900953

CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

North Charleston, South Carolina

To my colleagues at work
Who show me the value of cooperation every day

CONTENTS

Chapter I: Into the Mall

Chapter II: The Vampwolf

Chapter III: A Discussion with Beryl

Chapter IV: A Statement of an Argument

Chapter V: Evil Ones

Chapter VI: Rescuing Humans

Chapter VII: Vampwolf Again

Chapter VIII: The End of a Discussion

Chapter IX: Wild Ones

Chapter X: Child’s Play

Chapter XI: Vampires vs. Vampwolf

Chapter XII: At a Bar

Chapter XIII: Catch the Vampwolf

Chapter XIV: The Problem with Mirrors

Chapter XV: Vampwolf Surprise

Chapter XVI: In the Bar

Chapter XVII: Enter the Police

Chapter XVIII: No Good Options

Chapter XIX: A Plea for Sanity

Chapter XX: Captives

Chapter XXI: The Plan

Chapter XXII: The Battle in the Sporting Goods Store

Chapter XXIII: Something to Agree Upon

Chapter XXIV: A Summation of an Argument

I

Into the Mall

8 p.m. Friday

Joseph and I reached the outer glass doors to the mall. Each of us pulled open one of the outer doors, walked through it, then a few seconds later, pulled open one of the inner doors and walked into the mall. We walked past the soda machines to our left and stopped to see the confusion before us. A gray rectangular tube attached to the floor and closed on each end stretched about ten feet in front of us as did the wheel track to its right. On this tube and attached to this track were some untouched strollers, each stroller decorated like a small car with the wording “A Future Insured Driver of__”—an insurance company that has no relevance to this tale.

Many strollers close to this “stroller holder” were on their sides, upside down or tangled with other strollers. I guessed the strollers were a mess because of the panicked parents snatching their young children from them before fleeing the mall. But Joseph and I weren’t afraid, and if either of us was, we didn’t show it to our companion.

“You didn’t get the point of last night,” Joseph said.

I snorted in disgust. “You certainly didn’t.”

My name is Samuel Johnson, and I’m a vampire. My partner’s name is Joseph Butler and he’s a werewolf. Yes, a werewolf. I couldn’t believe it either.

You, my vampire readers, may have heard of me, a member of VATE (Vampires Against the Evil), who has performed some noteworthy attacks against that evil. This tale is about one of those. You, my werewolf readers, probably haven’t heard of me because, before this incident, you thought the less you heard about vampires, the better. And you, my human readers, I certainly hope, haven’t heard of me either because that means my working incognito as a human has been successful. More on VATE and me later.

I’m a six-foot-tall man with black hair in a buzz cut, a thin nose, small ears, and dark green eyes. My complexion is rather pale, like that of most vampires, and I don’t get sunburned or tanned, partly because I don’t like going out in the sun and partly because, even if I do, the sun doesn’t affect my skin. One of the pe0072ks, you might say, of being a vampire.

Joseph is short, at least compared to my six foot frame. Okay, he’s five-eight and has a stocky build with shoulder-length brown hair, a bushy beard and mustache and huge eyebrows. Werewolves are really hairy compared to us relatively hairless vampires. We male vampires aren’t envious, but a few females are. He has a big, bulgy nose, ears flat against his head and brown eyes.

While my hands are thin with long, thin fingers, his are broad with short, stubby fingers. Of course, I haven’t seen Joseph since our evening together, but I assume his looks haven’t changed significantly.

We both wore crisp white short-sleeved shirts with little security badges on our right shoulders, dark blue dress pants, and black leather shoes. At our sides we wore long swords in scabbards that slapped against our thighs as we walked. On the other side of our waist we carried pistols, loaded with silver bullets, in holsters. On our backs were packs filled with silver chains, varnished ironwood stakes, and cases of silver bullets.

A normal person coming to the mall would have thought we were security guards because that was how we were dressed, well, except for the sword. That is, if many other people had been in the mall. They weren’t. At 8 p.m. on a Friday night in the summer, this mall in a suburb of Des Moines, Iowa was relatively deserted. But it hadn’t been so a half hour before.

According to my contacts—both at VATE and WOVACOM - Watchers of Vampires and Cleansers of Messes—a half hour ago, this mall was bustling with people of all types—young parents or grandparents letting their children have fun in the play area in front of the large sporting goods store; teenagers roaming the mall with their friends as they texted or talked on their cell phones to other teens; families on their way to the movies or one of the restaurants on the other side of the mall; and couples or families or mothers and daughters or groups of teen girls simply out for an evening of shopping. Another typical Friday night at the mall.

Until the huge beast appeared, attacking some people, killing others and eating a few, as it wreaked havoc upon the kiosks and stands in the middle of the aisles in the mall. People fled. In a stampede to leave the mall, a number of people were injured close to the doors; many others called the police to report the beast and its destructive deeds. Workers, patrons, movie-goers, all fled. Well, at least the smart ones. According to my contacts, a few groups of humans were still hiding in the mall. Stupid humans. There’s a creature capable of killing and eating you and you hide rather than flee. Stupid.

The police responded, with police from all the local departments (Des Moines, West Des Moines, Clive, Urbandale, Johnston, and Indianola) surrounding the mall, guns drawn—except for those interviewing the survivors. To add to the confusion, the three local news stations had appeared to cover this fast-breaking story live.

Luckily, members of WOVACOM were keeping these masses under control. And once we took care of the beast they would begin a major brainwashing campaign so the humans involved wouldn’t remember this incident at all. Erasing the electronic record would be a bit more difficult but would be done as well. That was why Joseph and I had to deal with the situation promptly. As quickly as possible, Beryl said.

As for me, I would have preferred working alone. Not that I haven’t had assignments in which I’ve worked with others. I have. But with fellow vampires. Back in the day when I was a “regular” VATE agent, I worked with other vampires, and one such assignment changed my life. But even as a “special” agent, I’ve worked with others. All of these are stories for another time. So it’s not as though I don’t like working with others. I don’t mind it. Really. Except when those others happen to be werewolves.

Werewolves and vampires don’t mix. Or at least that’s my opinion. We vampires are cold, calculating, manipulative, thoughtful in our actions, and calm under pressure. Werewolves are excitable, easily angered, impulsive, wild, and erratic under pressure, to put it mildly. To the best of my knowledge, they’re always transforming into wolves whenever the least little danger comes along. Many a human dies because of that, since, like we vampires, werewolves don’t want to become known by the human race at large. I’ve even had to kill the occasional human who inadvertently stumbled upon my identity and I didn’t have the time or strength to mold that person’s mind to forget this knowledge.

But none of that relates much to the tale at hand. Or maybe it does.

Joseph and I walked through the mess of strollers then stopped a bit farther into the mall. On our left was the entrance to a huge department store, one of the anchors of the mall, and to our right the rest of the mall with its two floors visible along with a nearby wreckage of chairs and couches in front of a card store.

The werewolf looked at me and said, “Let’s go rescue some humans.”

Stupid statement. Of course, we were going to do that. Our objectives were simple, that is, if Joseph’s and mine had completely agreed. We were to (1) get the rest of the humans safely out of the mall and (2) capture the creature terrorizing the place. Or kill it. Beryl had told me to do the former and Joseph’s pack leader had told him to do the latter.

If last night had been the least bit productive—

II

The Vampwolf

Adeep, loud howl echoed through the mall, interrupting my thought and keeping me from telling Joseph about his stupid comment. Smashing to the floor only a few feet to our right was a red metal plane that had once been a ride for little children. Both the howl and the plane had come from the beast we were supposed to…well, you be the judge. That creature, according to my sources, was a vampwolf, part vampire, part werewolf. Now, in its wolfed-out form, at that.

Joseph and I simultaneously turned toward the center of the mall. Directly before us in front of the card shop was the wreckage of the cushioned chairs, couches and recliners. The cushions were shredded with their white stuffing covering the floor like snow, the frames merely broken scraps of wood amidst the white snowfield of synthetic pillow stuffing.

Closer to the center of the mall had been an area of little kid rides: a car, a truck, a train engine, and before it was flung at us, a red plane, all normally run by four quarters at a time to give a child or children a rocky ride. The car had the print of giant fist on it; the train engine was smashed to the floor close to the card shop; and the truck hung loosely on the platform on which it had once sat firmly.

To our left was an up and down escalator to the second floor. The second floor was visible as two wide balconies above us with fifteen to twenty feet of space between them overlooking where we stood. Directly above us, acting as a ceiling was the portion of the second floor leading into the department store behind us.

Not far beyond the destroyed kids’ rides stood the vampwolf in all its wolfed-out glory. Standing on its hind legs, it loomed fifteen feet tall, a mass of dark-brown fur, muscle and claws. Its arms, legs and head were out of proportion to its torso as if it were some kind of giant teddy bear come to life. But much scarier than a living cuddly toy.

Arms and legs the size of large tree trunks sprouted from its tremendous body, each hand and foot nearly three feet long, from palm to fingertip and heel to toe—not including long, curving claws the size of daggers. These hands and feet were large enough to smash human heads.

A head shaped like a wolf’s with a large two-foot long muzzle filled with sharp teeth like steak knives, eyes the size of coffee saucers, and two pointy ears the size of a large adult’s mittens sat on a thick, muscular neck. Dark-brown fur covered the vampwolf like a thick shag carpet from the 1970s. This beast’s huge blue eyes stared at Joseph and me.

If I had been merely a human, I would have fled in fright, but I’m a vampire and we vampires have our own set of powers. We have super speed, sight and hearing, if we want to use any of them. Each of us has the strength of three strong men—or at least I do. Add that together with our ability to transform into mist or a bat, our ability to manipulate the minds of humans, and our ability to control electrical circuitry—electrical circuits and wiring in buildings or vehicles resemble the simple minds of humans more than you might think—or our ability to change some electronic data—similar to circuitry.

Joseph is hardly defenseless either. Even in his human form, he has an extraordinary sense of smell and strength equal to that of a vampire. Of course, being a werewolf, he can transform into a wolf the size of a St. Bernard and, as a wolf, he can run faster than a cheetah and is even stronger than when in human form.

Granted, all of my extraordinary powers rely on my having enough strength to use them. Normally, I drink a pint of blood in the morning and a pint at night. That’s more than sufficient to keep me going and to be able to perform some of my superhuman abilities. Any longer usage of these abilities requires more blood consumption to keep me going. But I was prepared for that on this particular evening. Mid-afternoon I’d drunk a gallon of blood—I warmed it up so it went down ever so smoothly—giving me energy to spare. I could fight this vampwolf now, and again later this evening if we didn’t defeat it immediately.

Gazing at the vampwolf, I moved to analytical mode and considered the best options we had to deal with this massive beast:

1. Flee. Okay, I didn’t really want to do that—if not for any other reason than because running away wouldn’t help achieve our objective of the evening, whether to capture or to kill the vampwolf. However, fleeing could be a good option if we needed to develop a plan of attack—not a completely bad idea since our “meeting” of the night before hadn’t been productive at all. Regardless, we had an assortment of weapons to use on the beast, and we could decide which was to be used by whom, then attack that way. Of course, I wasn’t about to flee if Joseph didn’t.

2. Charge the vampwolf together to knock it to the floor then tie it up with our silver chains. Not a bad idea, although not one that would necessarily work. The beast was probably the size and weight of a small elephant. So, the possibility of our knocking the beast to the floor might be quite slim. We could very well charge it, hit it together and be flung to the floor. That would be embarrassing.

3. Attack it with our silver chains. Both of us might run toward it, one of us wrapping his chain around its legs, and the other around its arms. Once it was bound by the silver chains, hopefully it would transform back into human form. Although I liked this idea, it had one serious drawback: our chains were in our packs, so we’d have to drop our packs from our backs and remove the chains from the packs before we could wrap our chains around anything. In the time it took us to accomplish this feat, even given the fact both of us could do this quite rapidly, the beast could kill us or at least wound us terribly. Not good.

4. Shoot it with our pistols. They had silver bullets in them. So, logically, they should wound the vampwolf. Enough shots to wound it, then we could use our silver chains to bind it once it could no longer hurt us. I liked that idea.

5. Attack it with our swords. Also made of silver. They could also do significant harm to the beast and, as in option 4, we could bind it with our silver chains and be done with the job.

Unfortunately, all of these options and so many more that flashed through my mind assumed we would work together and present a united attack to the vampwolf. And to do so we’d need to communicate. So how can I communicate properly to Joseph? Or at least guess what’s he thinking. That is, if he even thinks adequately for this job.

We vampires wonder how much werewolves actually think. Some say not at all. Others say enough to get themselves into trouble. We believe it’s only luck that their existence hasn’t been revealed to humanity at large and that humanity hasn’t wiped them out.

Not that that such a consideration has anything to do with our fight. But Joseph’s thoughts certainly did. Thoughts that his actions revealed.

Joseph dropped his backpack and leaped forward. As he flew in the air, his hands expanded into paws with long claws growing out of his fingernails; muscles formed on his arms as brown fur covered them; brown fur grew on his legs as they narrowed and his feet, including his leather shoes, stretched into long wolf paws. A thick brown fur grew over his back—like his legs simply absorbing his blue slacks, and his chest the white shirt—and his face stretched forward, his nose and mouth expanding into a long muzzle with sharp teeth. His ears slipped from the side of his head to the top where they became pointed and flattened against his head as he dashed toward the beast. This transformation took less time than you needed to read this description.

Okay, option 5, sort of. Then I sighed. Werewolves really don’t think.

The werewolf dashed toward the vampwolf, which crouched and held its two hands in front of it, prepared to fight. Not wanting my partner to die in this encounter with the vampwolf (Beryl would be quite disgusted if I did), I dropped my pack, drew my sword and shouted. I sprinted forward.

We might not have been able to plan a variety of attacks, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t execute my own complicated assault. A large furry hand swiped at Joseph who ducked to avoid it only to be smashed by the second hand that threw him into the air. I lost sight of my partner because I leaped forward, and sailed over the snapping jaws and huge hands slapping empty air in the space where I’d been. I landed on its shoulder and raised my sword. A loud growl followed by a howl echoed below me. I glanced down to see Joseph charging again. Not a wise move.

A large hand slammed into my chest, and I fell toward the floor. Flipping in mid-air, I landed on my feet to see Joseph biting into the vampwolf’s leg. At least until a huge hand grabbed him, yanked him from his bite (not small feat, werewolves have jaws with a vise-like grip) and threw him toward the department store. As the beast was attacking my partner, I jumped again and swung my sword in mid-flight. My sword met the beast’s arm, which spurted a sheet of blood. The vampwolf screamed, and, as I rolled in the air, it slammed its other hand into me and smashed me face-first onto the floor. My sword clattered on the linoleum floor and slid far from my hand.

I lay in the white stuffing covering the floor like snow. I wished it were snow because I’d gotten a mouthful of it, and snow would have tasted a great deal better. Spitting out the white gunk, I flipped over expecting a huge hand with razor-sharp claws to descend on me and chop off my head. Not exactly the way I want to die.

But the vampwolf was gone.

I stood up and gazed around for Joseph, who I saw, in human form, standing up at the entrance to the department store.

“That didn’t go well,” my partner said.

“No,” I said, “not at all.” I hate stating the obvious.

III

A Discussion with Beryl

2 p.m. Tuesday

Isat in a leather recliner and held a mug of warm blood. Beryl knows how to heat up blood just right. For us civilized vampires, this is a real art and, as a vampire, you simply master this art or you don’t. I must admit I haven’t. When I heat up blood, either on the stove or in the microwave, I inevitably get it either still lukewarm, drinkable but not hot enough to slip down the throat and give the pleasure we vampires so enjoy, or too hot, not drinkable because scalding blood, like any scalding liquid, can’t be drunk. After getting the blood too hot, I then let it get too cool, thus, becoming lukewarm, before drinking it. So I always enjoy going to Beryl’s because he can heat up blood just right.

I sat in his living room in his house in West Des Moines. I lived in a townhouse less than a ten minute drive away. His living room was decorated with two recliners, a coffee table, a couch, a flat screen television, and paintings and artwork from all over the world. His work at VATE occasionally took him to exotic places in the world while so far mine had not.

Beryl, a vampire as tall as I am but with a heavier build, green eyes, red hair, and large ears, sat in the other recliner not far from me. “I’m glad you were successful in your last assignment.”

When I’d arrived, we’d exchanged the typical pleasantries. I knew Beryl’s statement was the introduction as to why I’d been invited here.

“I’m glad, too,” I said. I was, too, because to fail at a particular assignment usually meant death. Although with our strange metabolism, humans may say we’re dead, I beg to differ. I’ve seen dead vampires and I’m not one of them.

“Do you miss your old type of assignment?” Beryl asked casually.

As I mentioned previously, I’m a member of VATE. The evil we fight are primarily Evil Ones, vampires who hunt, kill, and drink the blood of humans—it’s the killing part that’s bad—and also aliens, who, in their natural form are green, slimy humanoids, but who morph into human form to corrupt the human race.

For most of my career in VATE, I infiltrated financial institutions such as banks, mortgage and insurance companies to identify, hunt, and kill the aliens who worked incognito in them. That was my job until one assignment that didn’t go so well—or did it? But that’s another story.

“No,” I said. Indeed, I didn’t miss my old work at all. Since that one mission, I’d had a wide range of assignments, such as infiltrating a gang of vampire hunters, stopping a blood-theft ring, and working with other vampires to shut down operations by Evil Ones and aliens alike. I’d also been twice to the Aspen Retreat Center in Colorado, a place which its name doesn’t properly describe.

“Good,” Beryl said, taking another large gulp of blood.

I did the same.

Beryl is my boss of sorts. When I did my work at the various financial institutions around the Des Moines area, I essentially had two bosses: my boss at the institution, who kept track of my work there, that is, testing, entry or analysis, and so on, and Beryl, who was interested in my identifying, hunting, and killing the alien who worked among us and wanted to corrupt the human race.

In more recent years, however, the modus operandi of aliens has shifted. Once simply corrupting humans and destroying their institutions was enough. In recent years, they’ve been setting traps for vampires—that is, at least those of us in VATE and the other institutions that keep vampire-kind going—to reveal us to the rest of humanity or killing us outright. I think we thwarted their plans and hunted them enough that they’ve declared war on us. Other vampires differ in opinion.

In any case, Beryl is my boss in VATE because he’s the leader of the VATE Central Iowa Chapter. VATE has chapters, based on geographical regions of varying sizes, because it gives us a time to gather together, learn new skills—such as turning into mist or bats and not losing our clothing—and tell others of our kind of our progress in our assignments. I no longer attend meetings since I’m a “special” agent. Beryl leads these meetings—ours is held in a church—and always supplies us with warm shots of blood.

Since I became a “special” agent, I’m actually paid by VATE—not much, mind you. Also, I only infiltrate organizations if needed by my special assignment. I’ve mentioned a few times I went undercover in the past, so, if you don’t remember, go back and read these comments again. Usually, I meet with Beryl at his house when I receive my assignment. As I was doing this Tuesday afternoon.

“I’ve got a special one for you,” said my chapter leader.

I snorted and drank a bit more blood. “Since AGI, every one you’ve had for me has been special.” I let a bit of sarcasm slip into the word “special.”

Beryl smiled. “Indeed.” He sounded pleased.

He’s our chapter leader because he’s older than many of us, more knowledgeable, and, most important, stronger. I’ve seen him take on five Evil Ones at once. I’ve been able to kill two or three—when my strategy was right, but I never want to have to fight Beryl. Others in my chapter challenged him. They lost.

So I was glad that Beryl was pleased.

“Aliens?” I asked. “Evil Ones? Ferals?”

Evil Ones, as previously mentioned, are vampires who hunt, kill—that being the bad thing, and drink the blood of humans. Many are like Beryl and me. They live among humans, have regular jobs, let their kids attend school, and, if they didn’t kill humans to drink their blood, they could be outstanding citizens in any community.

Ferals also hunt, kill, and drink the blood of humans, but ferals are more like animals than humans. A nest of them came to town once, lived in abandoned buildings, hunted at night, drank their fill, slept during the day, and, if they hadn’t been stopped, moved on to another community. They definitely aren’t model citizens. I’ve fought and killed both Evil Ones and ferals.

“One of the latter two, if those categories are to be applied.”

“And if they aren’t?”

Beryl smiled. He liked verbal sparring in the giving of assignments. “If they aren’t, then I can be more precise. We believe there is a vampwolf loose in the Des Moines area.”

An intelligent reader—that is, my vampire kin—knows a description of such a beast was provided earlier in this narrative. A stupid reader—you humans and werewolves—have probably already forgotten. No matter. You’ll get another chance soon enough.

Regardless, Beryl described the beast for me. I asked how, if the beast looked so much like a wolf-man on steroids, did we know it had any vampire in it. A good question or so I thought. Beryl responded that its sheer size alone indicated that it was more than a werewolf, and that its size and mass indicated that it had far stronger than mere werewolf blood flowing through its veins. My chapter leader also theorized that the mixed vampire and werewolf blood caused vampwolves, in wolfed-out form, to have their arms, legs and heads at a disproportionate size to their torsos. They were creatures that shouldn’t exist and, thus, were strangely shaped because of it. In any case, other vampwolves in the past had also drunk human blood while in human form.

“Vampwolves tend to be feral in their ways,” Beryl explained. “They’re large humanoid specimens from either vampire or werewolf families. Not that interbreeding between the races has been documented— ”

Yuck. The mere thought of it made me cringe. Werewolves and vampires having sex. For a moment I felt a bit nauseated and wished I were drinking a ginger ale rather than blood. Yet I took a swig and my stomach calmed.

“But vampwolves, we speculate, have a stray gene or two from the other race. Vampwolves are born into vampire or werewolf families but are larger than their brothers and sisters. When they reach adulthood or even their late teens, they are huge, usually over six feet tall and very muscular. Then, one day, they wolf-out, lose their human minds, kill, and wreak havoc upon the world until they burn out and die.”

If that’s the case, then I’m not needed. But it can’t be because here I am talking to Beryl.

“And that’s not the case with our vampwolf.”

“I hope you’re using the term ‘our’ loosely.”

“Would I ever use it another way?”

My chapter leader ignored my comment and explained how the beast had terrorized the populace the prior weekend, so Beryl assumed that the vampwolf would appear again this coming weekend. Last Friday night, it had appeared in a bar and restaurant district in downtown Des Moines, eaten three people, then disappeared. The next night it had shown up in a mall in the northern part of town, smashing a few kiosks in the middle of the mall, and eating a few people, then disappearing as it had the night before. Based on these two incidents, Beryl thought this Friday or Saturday night the beast would appear again.

Before waiting for me to comment, he played me a clip of a security camera video of the vampwolf. The video showed a blur of fur, muscles, teeth, and claws wreaking destruction on the mall where the beast had been filmed. Although we vampires can’t see ourselves in mirrors, we can be filmed. So could the vampwolf and that was only one part of its threat.

“It appeared two nights in a row, only for a little while then disappeared.”

“Not typical behavior of a vampwolf.” Okay, that was a stupid statement. I apologize for making it—although I didn’t to Beryl.

He sighed.

I shrugged.

“That’s why we want you on it when it appears next. We want you to capture it.”

I assumed the “we” was more than Beryl and was possibly his higher-ups in VATE or other vampire organizations. Important mission. Watching the beast and its destructive ways, I quickly deduced I couldn’t capture it on my own.

“I’m willing to take this on,” I said confidently, “but I assume I won’t be working alone.”

“Not against that thing,” my chapter leader agreed. “That’s another reason I thought you were perfect for the job.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, but I’d gone this far. “So just who will be helping me?”

“You’ll have a partner.”

“Who is?” I don’t like when Beryl plays these games. But he could. He was my boss.

“A better question is what.”

“What? You mean what is my partner?”

“Exactly.”

“And?”

“He’s a werewolf.”

“A werewolf!”

IV

A Statement of an Argument

Cooperation occurs when two or more people work together toward a common goal.

That’s what my chapter leader and other vampires higher up in many organizations want me to write about. That is, how Joseph and I cooperated to complete our mission.

I’m not going to because (1) it’s not true and (2) cooperation is merely an illusion fabricated by irrational beings.

The first point will be made obvious as you continue to read this tale. The second I probably need to explain in more detail. I would argue competition, confrontation, and conflict drive humanity and this tale more than cooperation.

I can list many obvious ways in which humanity—and its mutated offspring—do not cooperate. The greatest of these is war. Definitely the ultimate form of non-cooperation and the ultimate form of conflict and confrontation. Some people could argue that war is actually a great work of cooperation for each of the warring parties because each has to be unified in the face of the enemy. I beg to differ. Not only do we see conflicts between the different branches of the military, but we also find conflicts within each branch of the military as each ever-smaller unit fights for the limited resources with each other ever-smaller unit. Competition and conflict.

Free market capitalism, in its purest form, is also a form of non-cooperation, but, if it is the proper form, it aids the consumers because the sellers are in such a frenzy to sell to the lucky consumer that prices will be slashed until the sellers practically make no profit at all and the consumer receives a very good deal. If the seller is stupid enough to sell the product for too little for too long of a time and goes bankrupt, well, that’s okay, too, because the seller is too idiotic to survive in the marketplace. That’s competition at work, and also confrontation as the companies compete against each other.

Such examples can even be used for what some people might call the greatest works of cooperation of the world—for example, the building of the Great Pyramid of Giza. Although we of the twenty-first century still don’t completely understand how the ancient Egyptians built this great monument, I might expound on many theories, but I won’t because such theories are irrelevant to the current discussion. With the use of either external or internal ramps, the builders needed work crews to move the stones from the bottom to the top of the ramp. To think the teams didn’t engage in competition for the best logs to use to roll the stones to the top or they didn’t compete for each stone a crew got to move is a ludicrous thought. Of course they did. Competition. And possibly confrontation as these competing groups fought for limited resources.

Even the great multi-national corporations of the world are filled with conflict. The corporations themselves—or at least their executive officers—may believe all employees are united in the common cause of producing their product or products, but they would be mistaken. Within departments, people compete for attention, bonuses and advancement. At the more macro-level, departments compete against each other, often consciously or unconsciously, not providing valuable information to other departments or providing incorrect information so that one department can triumph over another. Competition. Confrontation. Conflict.

In conclusion, we are each working for our own self-interests, whether the prime motivator is money, fame, attention, or “feeling good”—for those supposed acts of altruism. If, in the process, we lie, steal, take credit for another person’s work, withhold information, betray or kill, we’re simply doing what we have to in order to achieve what’s in our own best interest. In other words, we operate in a world of competition, confrontation, and conflict. If we happen to work together toward a common goal, that’s more coincidental than any sign of cooperation.

Based on this argument, you can see that “cooperation” is, indeed, an illusion. Thus, to write about it and its success would be to create a false impression as well.

So I won’t.

As an aside, I want to speak for a moment to each of the supposed readers of this narrative.

To my fellow vampires, except for those such as Beryl who expect this to be a work about my cooperation with Joseph, I am sure you will find this narrative a stimulating read and receive a great deal of insight into the ways of werewolves and the brilliance of us vampires.

To you werewolves, you may think I make you appear to be wild, unruly, and stupid beasts. It’s not that I’m trying to—you simply are. If you take offense, that is your prerogative. However, I’m sure you’ll find the writing enlightening and the tale entertaining.

To you humans—others want me to make this narrative simple enough that even you, the unwashed masses, will understand and, considering my fantastic writing skills, you will discover a world that will leave you in awe and amazement—however, such feelings will be due to my comprehensible explanations and colorful descriptions and nothing inherent in your intelligence.

That being said, I will cite an extensive variety of reasons for Joseph and me to not get along.

First, since vampires and werewolves don’t, in general, get along, it shouldn’t be surprising that representatives from each race don’t get along.

Second, it is hereditary legacy, although both of our lineages are mutations of the human race—for, indeed, we are, despite popular literature to the contrary. We two mutant races, you will note, have characteristics in common, so for much of our existence we have been competitors for the same prey. By the way, both vampires and werewolves are born that way, not created by bites of either race.

In our early days, both our races ravaged and killed our human kindred because, to tell the truth, we didn’t know any better. When a creature gets hungry, it feeds. And so we did. On humans. And humans didn’t take too kindly to being eaten by us. We don’t blame them. In general, prey don’t like being eaten by their predators. Because of this dislike of being prey, humanity hunted and killed us—both vampires and werewolves—making the predator the prey. Back in these earliest of times, I’m not sure we vampires even knew of werewolves or they knew of us.

Following the near extinction of each of our races, we became the fierce competitors we are today. Both races must have almost simultaneously concluded that we should live apart from the rest of humanity and use livestock, that is, cattle, sheep, hogs, and chickens—more for werewolves than vampires, since not much blood is in a rooster or a hen—as our food sources. And thus we lived in relatively rural areas for centuries.

When possible, we tried to move even away from human farmers. In this quest for solitude, often our races lived close together. Not a good thing. Werewolves freaked out when they saw their neighbors sucking all the blood from their livestock or transforming into mist or bats. Vampires freaked out when they saw their neighbors transform into wolves and devour their livestock. Humans freaked out when they saw either, but seldom lived long enough afterward to tell anyone else.

Of course, with all this freaking out occurring, conflict was inevitable. In the rural setting, often vampires and werewolves came to an understanding. Plenty of livestock tended to be available, except in years of drought or floods, so a peaceful coexistence became the norm in many a locale. In any case, the two species experienced conflict in some places, but these areas were far enough away from each other that fellow vampires and werewolves didn’t realize their kin were fighting each other.

However, once each race felt comfortable enough to begin an urban existence, everything changed. Livestock was always a valuable and often scarce commodity in the cities of yore. Also, if livestock was used by werewolves, who ate the beasts whole, they couldn’t be drained of blood by vampires; if vampires sucked all the blood from the beasts, these bloodless beasts couldn’t be enjoyed by werewolves. Because of this scarcity and the tendency for both our races to hunt at night, conflict was inevitable. This conflict eventually became full-blown wars, granted hidden from our human kin, in most of the major cities of the world. Each side had victories. And defeats. Bloody battles. Treaties negotiated, then broken.

But our wars were more complicated than simply vampires fighting werewolves. Werewolves, like vampires, had their ferals and, what they called, Wild Ones, who hunted and killed humans. So our war took various forms: good vampires—like me—fighting feral werewolves; Evil Ones fighting good werewolves—like Joseph; good vampires/Wild Ones; Evil Ones/feral werewolves; Evil Ones/Wild Ones; good vampires/good werewolves; and ever so many other more complicated combinations. And, during all this time, aliens were corrupting the human race. Werewolves have never taken a great interest in aliens, but we vampires have, as the intelligent reader remembers. Of course, both our races participated in the various wars fought by humanity, not the least of which were the two world wars, which cut huge swaths of death within each of our races.

Our conflicts greatly subsided in the nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first centuries with the industrialization of the West. (In some developing countries, the war still rages.) We vampires developed our own blood banks for the dissemination of humans blood, and werewolves were able to purchase plenty of raw meat at the market. By the way, if you ever see someone at the grocery store with a cart full of raw meat and nothing else, most probably you’re looking at a werewolf in human form.

Please note, this history is filled with competition, confrontation, and conflict, the forces that drive human as well as vampire/werewolf history, and support my argument concerning the worthless nature of cooperation.

Because of this long history of poor vampire/werewolf relations, I theorize we don’t get along because genetically we’re programmed not to, and this conclusion leads to my last reason for vampires and werewolves not to get along. We have different personality types, which I’ve explained previously.

Thus, we have a long history of conflict. Vampires and werewolves live in an uneasy coexistence. Though largely we don’t engage in open warfare, we do avoid each other’s company if at all possible.

And so I had led my life. Granted I’d occasionally met a werewolf on the street. Twice Beryl had invited a werewolf to be a speaker at our chapter meetings, and both times Beryl had to keep violence from breaking out—yet other examples of bad times with werewolves. So most of my life had been blissfully werewolf-free.

Until my meeting with Beryl on that Tuesday. During the week following our meeting, I dealt with werewolves far more than I cared to or ever dreamed I would—and if I’d had those dreams, they would have been nightmares.

Thus, my surprise when Beryl said a werewolf would be my partner. Thus, my anger with the first meeting, if it could be called that, Joseph and I had. And thus, my disgust over Joseph’s and my first encounter with the vampwolf.

And finally, my disgust at those more highly placed vampires for showing the idiocy of giving me a werewolf for a partner.

V

Evil Ones

8:05 p.m. Friday

Istood, walked to the wall, and picked up my sword as Joseph picked up our two backpacks. We met in the middle of the destroyed furniture.

“That was fast,” he said. “I figured it would fight a bit longer than it did.”

“None of its attacks have lasted too long,” I said. “Last weekend, neither attack lasted longer than ten minutes. Then it vanished.”

“Yeah, but ours was like, three minutes, if that. Then poof!”

I sighed. “It turned into mist and fled.”

Joseph growled. “That’s what I said.”

Ah, the trials of working with a werewolf.

The werewolf ignored my exasperation. “I just don’t get why it fled,” he said. “It was whomping our butts.”

It was, indeed, and, if my partner weren’t a werewolf, I might have complimented him on his observation. But he was, so I didn’t. “I’m sure it has its reasons for its actions that are beyond our comprehension.”

We stood amid the broken furniture. I gazed around at the rubble that this once functional and probably comfortable furniture had become. Or been forced to become. Obviously, the work of the beast. I hope our assignment doesn’t…or, even worse, we don’t end up this way.

Joseph rolled his eyes. “You make it sound like God or some great being. It’s half werewolf, half vampire. I’m a werewolf. You’re a vampire. We damn well should be able to understand it.”

I smirked. “I don’t understand why you werewolves do what you do, and I’m sure some of our ways are confusing to you—”

“Like your need to plan everything. Sure, we can have plans, but we don’t plan everything.”

I suppressed the urge to make a witty comment to properly put him in his place. Best to ignore it. “If we’d had a plan—”

“Plans aren’t everything. You vampires don’t live enough in the moment. In the now! We had a chance to kill the vampwolf and we failed. So what? What do we do now? Like last night, if you’d lived in the moment—”

The less I think about last night the better. I sighed tiredly. Beryl had forced me to spend time with Joseph the night before to better our relationship. It hadn’t. He was an obnoxious, smelly werewolf last night and he was still one tonight. I almost didn’t make an appearance today and I certainly didn’t want to because of night before. I prepared my verbal attack.

But I didn’t get a chance to give it because my cell phone rang. So I walked a bit away from Joseph and pulled the phone from the clip on my belt. “Samuel here.”

“This is Beryl.”

Swell. He’ll like how well we’re getting along.

“Do you have anything to report?” he asked.

I told him briefly about our fight with the vampwolf and tried to make our failure not fall too heavily on Joseph’s rash actions.

“Not good,” my chapter leader said.

Like I don’t know that. I wanted to say other bad things about my partner but resisted. “I’m sure if we’d a plan—”

Beryl laughed softly. “It might be gone now. You may have lost your chance to capture it tonight.”

Tell me something I don’t know. Of course, having a partner who wants to do the same—capture, not kill it—would help. “We can still get the humans out.”

“Yes,” Beryl agreed. “Do that. Report once they’re all out.”

I wanted to confirm I understood this change of plans, but my chapter leader had hung up. Fine.

“That went well,” Joseph said. “I can tell you my boss will be disgusted we didn’t kill the thing.”

“Mine was too,” I lied. Since we didn’t have a plan and didn’t want to talk much, I didn’t see any point in discussing our different goals.

“So, it’s over?”

“No, humans are still hiding in the mall. We’re supposed to get them out safely.”

Joseph nodded. “That’s what I thought we should do anyhow. Humans know how to have fun.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment for humans or an insult for vampires, or at least vampires like me. “So then we’re agreed.” At least on that. I guess one point of agreement is better than none. Then I remembered the night before.

No, doesn’t matter if we agree on one thing.

Before the werewolf answered, he pivoted, sniffed the air and pointed. Not very far away from us, five people appeared out of nowhere. I guessed they were vampires, sneaking into the mall as mist and rematerializing into human form. Like Joseph and I, they all wore dark blue slacks, black leather shoes, a white shirt with a security badges on the right shoulder. Long swords in a scabbards slapped against the right legs of all except one of them, but none of them had pistols in holsters on their belts.

The oldest was a male vampire, about six-feet tall, with short black hair, dark-blue eyes, a thin nose and small ears. In human years, he looked about fifty, so I guessed he could be as old as seventy. All the other vampires appeared to be in their late teens so were probably in their early to late twenties.

One young female had shoulder-length blonde hair, green eyes, and a thin body that her security uniform didn’t properly display. She was probably about five-six and had thin hands to match the rest of her body. The second young female had curly red hair, brown eyes, and a more voluptuous body than the other female. She was even shorter than the other female and had rather chubby little hands.

One young male had a scar on his face, a mark he left intentionally because we vampires have quite good healing powers. He had messy brown hair, brown eyes, a large nose and big ears. Even through the uniform, you could see his muscles. The second young male had short blond hair, blue eyes, a thin nose, and little ears and was equally muscular. The first male was also about six-feet tall, the second about five-and-a-half-feet tall and much more stockier than any of his companions.

The oldest male motioned toward us, and as one, the five turned and strode deeper into the mall. As they approached, I felt various minds brush against mine. I guessed they did the same to Joseph, but werewolves, like humans, are too stupid to notice.

Joseph growled.

“Down, boy,” I soothed.

“Recognize them?” he asked.

“No.”

“So they’re—”

“Right.”

Evil Ones. They had to be. I’d heard about Evil Ones showing up at the site of disasters—hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, or manmade catastrophes such as battlefields, plane or multiple car crashes, or mass shootings—to feed on the weak and the wounded. Evil Ones like to say they’re hunters of humans, thus, more skilled in the ways of being a vampire than we “human-lovers,” or Protectors as we like to think of ourselves since we protect humans from Evil Ones and aliens. This scavenging behavior shows that their propaganda of being “hunters” is a lie. The five approaching us probably wanted to prey upon the very humans we were supposed to save. Or that was my guess.

The Evil Ones stopped about five feet away from us.

“I see we aren’t the only non-human fake mall security guards,” the oldest male said.

“And you’re certainly not the first ones to come to this mall,” I said.

Joseph growled again then looked at me and winked.

Now I have an insane werewolf for a partner.

The oldest Evil One ignored our interaction. “We may not be the first fake guards, but we are by far the best.” He smiled. “Let me introduce myself. I am Reginald, the leader of these trainees for Masters in Blood.”

My partner glanced at me. I shrugged. Granted, I’d encountered Evil Ones, but I didn’t know all of their different groups and designations.

Reginald motioned to the blonde female. “Amber.” To the red-haired female. “Patrice.” To the male with the scar and messy brown hair. “Ian.” To the short, blond-haired male. “Butch.”

Since they didn’t fear introductions, I thought that we shouldn’t either. Showing fear to Evil Ones is not a wise strategy. “I’m Samuel.” I motioned at my partner. “And he’s Joseph.” Before Reginald could say anything else, I asked, “Are you here to hunt the few remaining humans in the mall?”

The oldest Evil One laughed. The rest joined in. Joseph growled again.

When their laughter ceased, Reginald said, “Of course, we could, and you couldn’t stop us—”

I put my hand on my partner’s shoulder as I saw him move toward the Evil Ones. He stared angrily at me, then smiled.

“—Being the animal- and human-lover you are,” Reginald continued. “And your animal would fall as fast as you.”

The younger Evil Ones snickered.

“Hunting inferior beings, such as humans or you two, would be fitting since that is what true vampires do. Not use humans as milk cows like you do.”

Protectors and Evil Ones have an ongoing debate in terms of which of our lifestyles more properly fits with our bloodsucking ways. My kind trick humans into giving blood at blood banks that are food distribution centers for the rest of us. If that supply runs short, our blood suppliers also have herds of animals from which they can get blood. I don’t particularly like animal blood, but I will drink it if human blood isn’t available.

As mentioned earlier, Evil Ones hunt humans, capture them, kill them, and drink their blood. Not necessarily in that order. Many Evil Ones like their blood from living beings, so, as their victim squirms, the Evil One sucks its blood. Once the blood is gone, the human is dead. Evil Ones believe their preying upon humans as if the latter were animals is the true vampire way. Since we’re superior beings, we should hunt the inferior beings or so their logic goes. I’ve argued with various Evil Ones to dissuade them from this view but always in vain. Evil Ones believe what they believe; the rest of us believe what we believe. Ne’er the two shall meet.

In this case, I chose not to respond.

Reginald shrugged. The young ones looked at each other quizzically. They must have expected a sarcastic reply.

“We could hunt you and the humans if we so desired,” Reginald said. “Hunting, killing, and drinking the blood of the few humans who were stupid enough to remain in this mall would be easy, if not enjoyable.”

Well, we can agree on that. But I remained silent.

“Or, if we so chose, killing you and your animal friend. We do not normally take to killing ones of his race since we feel such behavior is beneath us— ”

Joseph glanced from me to Reginald. I tightened my grip on his shoulder.

“—but exceptions can be made. We have occasionally hunted his kind, in wolf form of course, because that is much more sporting, but I do not really see the point of doing so tonight.”

The younger ones snickered at this remark.

“It would be fun,” Butch said.

Reginald gave him an angry stare.

“Well, it would,” Butch said. “We’d let him turn into a wolf and chase him around the mall, taking bites out of him or slicing off his tail, or swooping down as bats, landing on his chest and slicing off his ears and— ”

“Butch, quiet.” The eldest Evil One’s tone showed who was in charge.

The other younger ones stared from Butch to Reginald. I think if Butch could have blushed he would have, but we vampires don’t have the proper circulatory system for such a facial expression.

By the way, perhaps, at least you human readers—and maybe you werewolf readers—might have noticed, Evil Ones like to talk. The vampires of my kind have various theories as to why they like to talk so much, but we haven’t reached any agreement. Some say all Evil Ones are extroverts, so their love of talking, especially about themselves is only natural. Others say Evil Ones are vain narcissists and, because they think so much of themselves, they can’t keep themselves from talking. Yet others think all this talk is merely a genetic flaw of their kind. To be an Evil One means you like to talk, even if you’re an introvert and get all your energy—well, other than what comes from drinking blood—from spending time alone. In any case, Evil Ones do like to talk. They talk and talk and talk and talk, about their schemes—so, when trapped by Evil Ones, getting them talking is always a good strategy—about themselves, about their superiority to my kind, about whatever they can possibly talk about.

That being said, I should continue with the speech Reginald gave to Joseph and me whether we wanted to hear it or not.

“We are not here to waste our time on humans,” the eldest Evil One proclaimed, “nor waste it in the hunt and mutilation of you fools, although we could, or at least my trainees could, for I am here to observe rather than fight. Before coming, we drank human blood, from some live humans, mind you, not blood in sacks or bottles like you human-lovers—”

See, they really do like to talk. And some like Reginald like to talk as if they are so superior to anyone else. He wasn’t.

“—because the true glory is in the pure killing of a human, not using them as cattle. Nor are we here to hunt those like your partner, in wolf form, for my trainees could and have—Once these four killed a pack of eight werewolves, in wolf form, of course… For that would be an utter waste of time. Because these four are growing to be expert hunters, because these four, and with me to observe, are here to hunt and kill the vampwolf in its wolfed-out glory.”

That was a long way to say very little. But, before I could make such a comment, my partner chose to talk. “Good luck with that,” he said and laughed.

The Evil Ones stared at him silently and a few with a fair amount of disgust.

“He’s so cute,” Amber said with a grin.

“I could kiss him all over,” added Patrice.

Amber smiled devilishly. “I want to have my way with him.”

“Girls! ”

Both female vampires stared angrily at Reginald.

“Now is not the time.” He smiled. “But once we have vanquished the vampwolf—”

“As my partner said,” I interrupted. “good luck with that. We fought it—”

“Obviously, failing to kill it,” Ian said.

“And survived,” I finished.

The Evil Ones laughed. As their laughter died, Reginald continued, “To survive is what dogs and human-lovers do. To triumph is the work of the Masters of Blood.”

Gazing at Joseph and me with distaste, their leader said, “Enough of this nonsense! Once the vampwolf is dead, we will dispose of these worthless beings as we see fit. Follow me, Trainees!” He snapped his fingers three times. Then shrank as his body covered with black fur, ears grew from the top his head as they shrank away from the side, a flap of skin grew between his arms and torso forming wings, and, in less time that it took you to read this description, Reginald was a bat hovering in the air. Then all his trainees shrank into bats, too.

I drew my sword, stepped forward and swung. Only to swish through empty air because the five bats had flown deeper into the mall and out of sight.

“They don’t stand a chance against the vampwolf,” Joseph muttered. “At least not alone.”

And we do? If they can’t kill the beast, how can we? I had yet to figure out how we’d accomplish such a feat, and I doubted my partner would be much help at all.

VI

Rescuing Humans

But killing, or capturing, the beast wasn’t my current concern. Humans were still hiding in this mall. Granted, not many. The vast majority had fled during the vampwolf’s initial rampage. Even for stupid humans (as they all are) that was a smart move. Except for those few who had taken refuge in various places in the mall perhaps in the hope that once the creature was gone or killed they would be rescued, but I doubted they thought that far ahead. Okay, maybe the vampwolf was gone. Maybe it wasn’t. In either case, Joseph and I had humans to rescue—a task my partner seemed excited about doing—at least before, or if, the vampwolf reappeared.

“So now we can rescue some humans?” Joseph asked.

A human-lover, even more so than Protectors like me.

“Right. That should be our main concern. I know the Evil Ones said they wouldn’t harm the humans, but it’s best not to trust them.”

The werewolf shrugged. “Whatever you say. Do you want me to sniff out our hidden humans?”

I snorted with disgust. “I have a much better and more accurate way to do that.”

Joseph said something but I ignored him. I had to locate the humans we were supposed to save. Being a vampire, I didn’t have to rely on electronic devices, or my nose like my partner, especially after all the blood I’d drunk earlier that day. Although I knew Joseph expected me to give a snappy comeback to the remark I chose not to hear, instead I closed my eyes to use some of the great mind power I, like all my vampire brethren, have.

We vampires, regardless of whether we are Protectors, Evil or feral, have stronger minds than our human or werewolf cousins. Our minds have abilities that normal human minds don’t.

One such ability is of an expansive nature. We can let our minds expand over a limited geographic area of from one room to an area the size of a football stadium. I’ve heard of a vampire whose mind expanded far enough to sense all within a town of thirty thousand, but I believe that to be vampire myth.

This expansion of the mind allows us to perceive the presence of all sentient beings: humans—glowing warm spheres of yellow light; vampires—dark spheres protected against the individual mind attacks; and aliens—green spheres of slimy ooze. I’d never really sensed a werewolf before, let alone a vampwolf, so I didn’t know how their minds might appear in my expanded perception.

As I stood on the first floor in the mall, I used my mind’s amazing expansive ability. I closed my eyes. At first, I perceived only my own being, a blackness surrounding my mind. Then I let my mind begin to expand and immediately I sensed a fiery sphere of energy. Humans have minds that are soft, yellow spheres of light, rather like a small fire over which you can warm your hands. This fiery sphere wasn’t like that. It was a fire of red, yellow and hot flashes of blue, a sphere like a house fire or a huge bonfire or a wild fire burning out of control. And this was the mind of my partner.

No wonder we vampires haven’t explored the minds of werewolves much. Diving into the warm glow surrounding human minds is one thing, but going through the fiery hell that surrounded a werewolf’s mind might be painful.

But that’s not my objective.

I let my mind expand outward like an open spigot pouring water to flood the mall where the water would fill every nook and cranny. In most cases, I only saw blackness, the space in which no sentient beings dwelled but in which my mind reached and probed. However, in six places around the mall I sensed four to eight warm yellow spheres of light; one group in a store on the bottom floor at the center of the mall; another group in a store on the second floor next to the northwest department store; two groups in the multiplex cinema — one group in a small theater and another group in a larger theater; one group in one of the big restrooms close to the food court; and the sixth group in a restroom on the first floor between where we stood and the center of the mall with the stairs, escalators and elevator.

Scattered throughout the mall, all away from the larger groups, were another eight glowing spheres indicating humans: in a booth in the food court, in a restroom in the second floor bookstore, and several other places as well. In the bookstore on the second floor were the five black vampire minds.

As my mind was expanding, at one point I thought I saw a green, slimy mind and one (or maybe two?) hot, black spheres, as hot as my partner’s mind, as black and hidden as a vampire’s mind and as strong as the strength of all five of the minds of the Evil Ones. Both appeared for a mere moment before they vanished. I wasn’t sure I’d really seen them or whether they were some sort of false positive. That’s a big problem with the expanded mind-thing. We often detect sentient beings who simply aren’t there. Vampires are investigating this phenomenon, but that didn’t help me out much during my time in the mall.

By the way, I thought the Evil Ones were foolish to allow me to detect their vampire minds. We vampires can make our minds appear like those of humans, at least to other vampires who hunt for us this way, and I usually do. I’ve heard aliens can do the same but I don’t know if that’s true or been proven.

Knowing the location of the biggest groups of humans and the locations of the loners and couples, I let my mind contract back into my head. Joseph grunted when he saw, I supposed, that I no longer had a glazed look in my eyes — we do when our minds are expanding. The whole process had taken only a few seconds, a lapse of time a human wouldn’t notice, but, obviously, a werewolf did.

Before I told my partner where the groups were, I thought I should add a suggestion. “When we’re getting these groups out of the mall, we should watch for anybody who has the physique of a vampwolf in human form.”

Joseph rolled his eyes. “Like it’d hang out with a big group anyway.”

Ignoring his remark, I said, “I spotted two groups in theaters at the multiplex cinema, another in the restroom by the food court—”

“I’ll take them,” Joseph interrupted. “Let’s meet once we get these groups out.”

“I found about eight loners or couples—”

“We’ll deal with them once we get the big groups out—”

“There’s three other big groups—”

“You deal with them.”

Before I could protest, Joseph leaped forward, transformed into a large wolf and dashed toward the center of the mall.

“And the vampires are in the bookstore,” I finished to empty space.

He probably chose the groups farthest away from here. I smirked. He likes me about as much as I like him.

Of course, whether we liked each other or not wasn’t the issue.

I stood alone and that was fine with me. I prefer to work alone. Granted, I’d worked a few operations with other vampires and at least one of these missions had very long-term significant effects. Again, not the issue.

Although I could have rescued the people in the restroom between the sporting goods store and the escalators, elevator, staircase portion of the mall, I chose not to. I really wanted Joseph to do that. I had my reasons, which I’ll explain later. Instead, I chose to rescue the people hiding in the store more toward the center of the mall.

Grabbing both of our backpacks, I strode toward the middle of the mall, past the wrecked kiddy rides and past the destroyed kid’s play area with its smashed plastic tunnels and bridges, slide and steps covered by a smashed mock thatched roof, its circular wall wrecked by two massive footprints on either side, and its entry archway like a huge tree on its side with massive claw marks. I paused to glance down the rest of this arm of the mall.

Prior to the beast’s attack, large six feet tall, five feet long and four feet wide kiosks of dark wood filled this area. In their places now were, in some cases, piles of broken wood four to five feet tall and, in other cases, collages of broken wood spread across the floor. In both cases, their merchandise was scattered around them like leaves fallen from a tree. Ah, well, the beast doesn’t like these kiosks any more than I do. I proceeded to walk past the ruins of a hair extensions kiosk, past the turned over and wrecked chairs where massages were offered, past the broken pieces once belonging to a cell phone kiosk (the surrounding busted cell phones gave it away), past a red SUV for sale by one of the local car dealers—a sale that wouldn’t be made because the vehicle’s hood was smashed in—and finally to where the two large arms of the mall met by the escalators, staircase and elevator.

This wide open space had only the remains of three wooden kiosks littering it in the middle of where the two large arms of the first floor met. I guessed the busted kiosks to have sold vitamins, sunglasses and cutesy pet items. I glanced at the busted elevator, which looked as if a giant fist had broken through its glass container and snapped its cable, and the empty escalators, stopped by wooden planks stuck into each, causing each to have a jagged metal mess where the steps had smushed each other beneath an unmoving plank. Not only couldn’t the escalators now take anyone up or down from one level to the next, no longer was there anybody to take. I guessed my partner had probably taken the stairs and the Evil Ones had flown to the second floor.

Remembering the Evil Ones, I wondered what their plan was to kill the vampwolf. If they do so, we won’t have to. Of course, that won’t help me capture it like Beryl wants me to. I shrugged. Irrelevant right now.

I strode into the wide open area, dropped the backpacks by the remains of the sunglasses kiosk, then walked into the entrance of the kitchen supply store where my first group of humans were hiding. I let my eyes take in the store. Although the main areas of the mall seemed to be severely damaged by the vampwolf’s rampage, this store appeared relatively untouched, aside from the fact that the store employees weren’t offering any samples of food or asking whether I needed any help. I need help but not what they could provide.

Upon entering the store, there was a small maze of tables with table cloths, mixers, knife sets, cutting boards, and cookbooks, each product neatly stacked on its own table. Along the wall to my right was a display of kitchen utensils, both the common ones such as spatulas, cooking spoons, potato peelers, potato smashers, hot pads, thermometers and timers, and the uncommon such as zesters and small utensils I didn’t know the purpose of.

Along the wall to my left on built-in shelves were assortments of pots and pans. In the back center of the room was a rectangular counter that went up about to my waist and was adorned with a few cash registers (two on each of the long sides), a variety of food samples (of food products that were displayed in the back of the store), and cookbooks.

Two doors the height of the counter opened to the area surrounded by these counters; one of these doors was in the center of either long side. Upon my entrance, I saw heads bobbing within this area: a blonde-haired head with the hair parted in the middle and a red-haired head without any discernible part. Whispers from these hiding people also greeted me.

All nonsense as far as I was concerned. Frightened humans are probably humanity at its height of stupidity.

“Hello,” I greeted them. “I’m Officer Samuel Johnson. The creature’s gone so I’m here to escort you out of the mall.”

As I finished these words, the people began to stand, and much to my disgust, introduce themselves. I guess it’s a human thing. We vampires are more pragmatic in situations like this.

A short, chubby, red-haired woman wearing gaudy Bermuda shorts, a cotton blouse and sandals that showed her chubby, stubby feet and toes with her toenails adorned in red stood and exited the work area first. “I’m Jessica,” she said.

Behind her came a thin, petite, blonde woman wearing a yellow tank top, short tight blue jean shorts and gold sandals revealing her tiny feet with toenails painted in a light blue that almost matched her eyes. Holding her hand was a young boy, about seven I guessed, with messy blond hair, and eyes as blue as his mother’s and wearing blue jeans shorts and a t-shirt decorated with an orange gorilla in a purple cape. “I’m Carole,” said the woman. “And this is Timmy.”

The young boy waved at me, pointed at the sword at my side and whispered to his mother. She shushed him.

A couple of seniors, both of whom I guessed to be in their late sixties, exited next. She wore a flowered dress, he a chambray shirt and brown khaki trousers. Both wore sneakers and both had gray hair speckled with black. “I’m Mrs. Carver,” she said, “and this is Mr. Carver.” The man nodded at me.

The last to emerge from their hiding place was a tall, lanky teenage boy in a white t-shirt and blue cargo shorts and a petite, slim teenage girl in a sheer white blouse, a tight leather black skirt, and black stiletto heels. “Angela,” she said. She motioned at the boy. “Bud.”

Together, they all stared at me as if I were a creature from another planet or as if they knew I was the vampire I was. I stared at them and was disappointed. None of these people have the big, burly physique of a vampwolf. If anything, they’re all the opposite except for chubby Jessica. But chubby does not a vampwolf make.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” asked Jessica.

“I’m sure,” I replied confidently. Actually, more confidently than I felt. I knew the beast wasn’t dead. I didn’t even know if it was still in the mall. I did know as I’d approached the store I hadn’t seen it.

Jessica glanced at Carole. “Do you think it’s safe?”

If I’d been a human, my face would have flushed with anger. I’m a vampire and that kept my face pale.

“She’s watched over us,” Mrs. Carver explained.

“An’ I helped,” Timmy said. Then he gazed at me. “Awesome sword.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

Carole patted Timmy on the head. “And you did a good job.”

I sighed. This conversation wasn’t aiding me in getting these people out of the mall. Stupid humans.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jessica said. “Do you think it’s safe?” Again she was addressing Carole.

Carole looked down at Timmy, smiled, whispered something, then gazed and smiled at me showing white teeth perfectly aligned. “Yes,” she said. “I believe it is.”

As if I needed her endorsement. After all, I was dressed as a security guard. “I wouldn’t be here to escort you out if it wasn’t.”

“We know, dear,” Mrs. Carver said. “It’s just that Carole and Timmy have been our saviors. When the creature was rampaging through the mall and killing and eating people, the two of them got us in here for safety, despite the fact that this store’s help fled out the back door and locked it. And, since then, whenever we’ve heard the creature, Carole and Timmy have gone out to make sure we were safe.”

I nodded at the “saviors” of this group. “Quite noble of you.”

Carole smiled. “Thank you.”

“Damn it, I want to get the fuck out of here,” said Angela.

“Dear, please control your language!” scolded Mrs. Carver.

“Gramma, mind your own fuckin’ business,” snapped Angela.

“Yeah!” chimed in Bud.

“Let’s go,” I suggested, ignoring the last exchange.

Carole nodded. “I agree. If the creature’s not around, it’s a good time to leave the mall.”

“My mom’s right!” Timmy exclaimed.

With that last comment, I turned and left the store, followed by the assorted others. I walked toward the exit just north of the store entrance.

“Excuse me, young man,” said Mrs. Carver, “but our car is in the other direction.”

I sighed. A huge monster is loose and you’re worried about exiting where car is.

“I think he knows what he’s doing,” Mr. Carver said.

The two teenagers, who’d walked by us as we’d talked, stopped and stared at us. The girl sighed heavily. “Fuck them,” she spat and dashed toward the exit as fast as she could in high heels. Her boyfriend sprinted ahead of her and out the exit, not even pausing to hold the door for her.

Before I could comment on the speed of the teenagers, I heard a shout behind me. “Timmy!” I recognized Carole’s voice.

“Please leave the mall,” I ordered the older couple before I ran back to the front of the store.

Jessica stood at the store’s entrance and gazed in the direction of the department store to the east. My eyes followed hers, and we watched the young boy running past the broken kiosks. His mother ran after him but didn’t seem to be gaining on him. First, the boy disappeared from sight because of the slant of the mall and his mother disappeared moments later.

“I suggest you leave the mall,” I told Jessica.

She glared at me. “I’m not leaving without Carole and Timmy.”

I sighed. “I’m sure once Carole catches Timmy, she’ll get them both out of the mall. There are two or three exits in that direction.”

Jessica harrumphed back. As she did, I saw a tall, broad-shouldered young man appear on the second floor at the top of the staircase. He was almost seven feet tall and had lots of muscles. His blond hair was a mess. He wore an Iowa Hawkeyes t-shirt and black athletic shorts. Now that guy could be a vampwolf in human form. Before I could shout at him, he dashed toward the department store to the west.

“I’m not leaving the mall without Carole and Timmy in tow,” Jessica said firmly.

Swell. A stubborn and stupid human. Luckily, I had a solution to that. As I mentioned earlier, our vampire minds have abilities human minds don’t One is the ability to locate other sentient beings. Another is a simple mind attack. And the second is what I did.

For those of you who’ve forgotten, a human mind appears as a warm glowing yellow sphere to a vampire mind. Within this sphere are rooms or chambers that are on three different levels. At the lowest level, the basic physical functions are controlled such as breathing, and the pumping of the heart. The second level is much like the first but these muscles are controlled consciously since they aren’t needed for survival as those on the first level are. This second level operates fingers, hands, arms and legs, feet and toes.

I ignored both of these levels because it was the top or mental level that was my target. This level is the most intriguing as well as the most difficult to attempt to command being filled with a person’s ideas, obsessions and memories. It also includes the deep dark fears and fixations that are hidden in the unconscious and subconscious minds. Luckily, in the course of this evening, I didn’t have to deal with either of these darker parts of the human mind.

I searched for a specific idea in Jessica’s mind. Finding the idea, “I’m not leaving the mall until Carole and Timmy do,” I changed it in all of its myriad forms to “I’ll leave the mall because I’ll meet Carole and Timmy outside.” I did this until I didn’t find any ideas in her mind about not leaving the mall.

Then I returned to my body. All of this might have taken five seconds.

Jessica stared at me and said, “I’m leaving the mall because I’ll see Carole and Timmy outside.”

“That’s a good idea,” I agreed.

I didn’t look for Carole and Timmy — I assumed they’d left from a different exit. I didn’t even try to find the tall, broad-shouldered young man I’d seen on the second floor. Instead, I followed Jessica who strode toward the exit, walked past the elderly couple, paused at the first set of glass door to hold one open for Mr. and Mrs. Carver and did the same with the outer doors. Watching this from a distance, I smiled and continued to observe as I saw the three greeted by the police. As Carole and Timmy will be at whatever exit they choose to use.

I sighed in relief. One group out and only four to five more to go.

A loud, deep howl behind me disrupted my feeling of relief.

VII

Vampwolf Again

Iturned to see a mountain of fur, teeth, and claws charging toward me on its hind legs It ran much faster than I imagined it could. Luckily, the creature hadn’t appeared while I was escorting the humans out. Carole and Timmy may have been smart to leave by another exit. This time I faced the vampwolf alone. I liked the situation because I didn’t need to worry about the possible chaotic actions of my impulsive partner. I didn’t like it because the two of us together had been barely able to wound the creature so alone my chances weren’t too good. Capture is not an option. Survival would be nice.

I considered my options:

1. Stand and fight. Bad for two reasons: (1) I might die a quick and violent death. Okay, that’s not a completely bad way to go but death is something I like to avoid. And (2) the vampwolf might be seen by more humanity and that would make additional work for WOVACOM. (I believed they had plenty already.)

2. Flee out the same mall door the humans I’d rescued had used. Okay, that avoided the death possibility, at least in the short term. Of course, the vampwolf might follow me in which case even more humans would see the beast and even more would know of its existence. And lots more humans might be killed as well. Lots of vampires would be disgusted with me if that happened.

3. Dash by the vampwolf and fight it in the center of the mall. The second part of this option seemed good because at least I’d fight the beast far from many human eyes. The first part I found less appealing because the vampwolf might grab and possibly kill me as I attempted to dash by.

4. Turn into mist, float to the center of the mall, and fight the vampwolf. The second part, unchanged from Option 3, had the same advantage as described in Option 3. Being mist would certainly keep me safe from being grabbed and possibly killed by the beast as I passed it, but, unfortunately, in my mist form I didn’t move too fast. By the time I re-humanized in the center of the mall, a good one or two minutes could elapse and who knew what the vampwolf might do in the meantime.

5. Turn into a bat, fly to the center of the mall and fight the beast there. The advantage of the third part of this option was similar to Options 3 and 4. Becoming a bat had the advantage that I would be small so the vampwolf would have difficulty catching me and I’d be fast so I could get to the center of the mall in seconds.

Okay, I had other options, but these five were the first ones that most readily came to mind. My choice was obvious.

I leaped toward the charging vampwolf. As my feet left the floor, my entire body shrank. My sense of sight vanished but my sense of smell increased. The beast had an awful stench. As my arms shrank, a flap of skin grew between the lower part of my arms and each side of my torso forming wings that together were nearly twice the size of my furry black torso. In mere seconds, I was a bat, only about six inches long with a wingspan of maybe twelve, flying toward the fast-approaching vampwolf.

I’m sure a few of you, at least those of you who aren’t vampires or those of you vampires who don’t know all the possible tricks we of VATE—and WOVACOM, too, I think—have acquired, may be wondering about what became of my clothes, sword and pistol. They were with me.

As a young vampire, I, and no doubt many others, had turned into a bat or mist then re-materialized, or re-humanized, depending upon which form I transformed into, naked. My clothes in a pile in the place where I’d ceased being in my human form. Not long after joining VATE and going to hunting classes, while I was in middle school in case you cared, my VATE teachers taught me how to turn into either a bat or a cloud of mist and carry my clothes along.

In practice sessions at first I still lost my clothes, later I lost only some and eventually I lost none. Of course, at first when I re-humanized with my clothes they weren’t in the right places; my shirt on my legs, my pants over my head. Luckily, having enough practice sessions, I now can re-humanize with my clothes exactly where they were when I transformed into either a bat or mist.

Regardless, as I flew, I sensed objects around me rather than saw them as we humans do. I sensed the solid glass doors behind me, the floor below and the ceiling above. Coming rapidly toward me as I flew quickly toward it was a huge, warm mass of flesh—that had large teeth and claws as I had seen when I was in human form. This huge warm mass barreled below me as I flitted above its vast bulk.

Flying beyond the vampwolf, I sailed into a large open area with some piles of broken kiosks on the smooth flat floor. Landing on the smooth surface close to the center of the area, I let myself re-humanize. My entire body grew and, as it did so, the flaps between the bottom of my arms and the sides of my torsos shrank away. My fur became a white shirt and blue pants beneath which was my own white skin and that little bit of vampire hair. I stood among the wrecked kiosks in the area connecting the two arms of the mall, and the stairs, broken escalators and elevator, all leading to the second floor.

I drew my sword.

The beast slid to a stop, turned, howled deeply and loudly, then lunged toward me again.

Okay, at least I wasn’t going to die and let many humans see my death. I still didn’t like my odds.

But I have a mission. And to succeed, surviving this encounter would be best.

As the vampwolf charged closer, I crouched into a fighting stance and leaped toward the beast before it reached me. As it dashed toward me, its right hand slapped me to one side. I smashed against the floor.

I have to stop letting it do that.

A hairy hand grabbed me before I could move. It raised me up, so I could gaze into eyes the size of coffee saucers and smell the vampwolf’s breath that carried the stench of overripe corpses and decayed food remains. The stench might have been enough to knock me out if I were a mere human. Luckily, I’m not. The hand dropped me until my head wasn’t far above the fingers. The other hand reached over and the long dagger-like nails on its thumb and forefingers popped under my head.

It’s going to behead me!

Not far away, I heard a howl of a much higher pitch than the vampwolf’s. Rather than popping off my head and ending my existence right then, the beast turned toward the escalators, staircase and elevator.

I wasn’t waiting for my savior, or at least my distraction. I dissolved into mist.

Dissolving into mist can be likened to a snowman melting. The large, round balls of snow shrink as the snow turns into water and is absorbed by the soil. The snowman, in a sense, shrinks from the inside out. Day after day (assuming a warm stretch of weather follows a cold one), the snowman slowly melts out of existence. Transforming into mist is like that because a vampire’s physical existence ceases and his—or her, not to discriminate against female vampires—mist existence begins. Of course, this transformation process occurs in a second or two rather than over a series of hours or days the way the snowman is transformed from snow into water.

As mist, I slipped from the beast’s grasp—rather a soft surface and a little bit spongy, at least from a mist perspective—and flowed—for that is a better description than flew or dropped—to the floor’s hard surface beneath. Being mist is strange since my consciousness is spread throughout. Although I can sense where I am, I can sense very little of other beings’ activities or movements. Thus, being mist means being very vulnerable. But, considering I was about to have my head popped off by giant vampwolf nails, mist vulnerability was far preferable to such an unpleasant end.

I re-materialized to find myself standing not too far away from the huge beast, a beast who was otherwise occupied. A howl transformed into a whine as I saw the vampwolf catch the smaller wolf, leaping toward the big beast, and dash it to the floor. Lying by the vampwolf’s feet, Joseph whimpered in pain. The vampwolf stared down at me and smiled, revealing its long white sharp teeth. I crouched with sword still in hand.

Survival isn’t looking too good. Okay, maybe I can inflict a bit of damage before I become a pile of ash.

A shout came from the second floor. Disregarding the fact the beast could grab me or kill me or slice me to shreds with its huge claws, I looked over my shoulder to see the five Evil Ones gazing down upon us. Reginald had shouted at us, and by his side stood the four young ones.

“Looks like you’re busy, vampwolf!” Reginald shouted. “That makes it easier for us to kill you!”

“And we will!” yelled Amber.

I turned to see the beast dissolve into mist and the huge cloud of mist float quickly into the kitchen supply store.

Reginald smiled. “No need to thank us.”

“Because we wouldn’t thank you!” Butch yelled.

I grinned. “Thanks, but next time could you help in the fight?”

The Evil Ones laughed. Reginald snapped his fingers three times, then the five shrank into bats and flew away.

Joseph, now in human form, stood. “That didn’t go well.”

“No, but it could have gone much worse.” Because I could be dead.

VIII

The End of a Discussion

2:14 p.m. Tuesday

At my exclamation, I sat upright in my recliner and almost spilled my blood.

“Yes,” Beryl said calmly. “A werewolf.”

“But they’re impulsive, smelly, irresponsible, out of control beings. Nothing good comes from dealing with a werewolf.”

My chapter leader sighed. “I’ll admit that’s all true.”

“So you were joking about my having a werewolf as a partner?”

Beryl took a long swig of blood. I didn’t care how he’d gotten this blood to exactly the right temperature and how good it might taste. I wanted to make sure Beryl was kidding.

“No,” my chapter leader said, “I’m not.”

I lost it. I rarely do that. I think that’s partly what makes me such a good VATE agent. Okay, at times my emotions can lead me astray or cause me to lose focus, but that’s more than one other story. I shouted, “What the hell are you—”

Beryl raised his hand, his palm toward me. “Listen, please. I don’t like this idea too much either, but such an operation could greatly enhance vampire/werewolf relations.”

“I think they’re fine the way they are.” Considering the fact that they aren’t.

My chapter leader chuckled. “If it were up to me, I’d get you a group of vampires to hunt and capture this beast and be done with it. Our vampire scientists would study it, and all would be good in the world. But this goes high up in vampire organizations, and these individuals feel a cooperative effort could enhance relations.”

“High up?” I asked. I guessed he was referring to the High Ruling Council, a council that governs us Protectors. High Ruling Councils are at the local, state and national levels. I didn’t know which level of HRC wanted me to work with a werewolf, but I did know provoking powerful vampires was never good. It didn’t necessarily lead to a long and fruitful life.

“Not only do they feel such a cooperative mission will better relations between our races,” Beryl continued, “they think it could add efficiency in dealing with vampwolves. Too much of the time we have separate vampire and werewolf squads hunting down and killing the vampwolves—that is, if the vampwolf doesn’t flame out and die before either of our groups get to it. Those in power in both vampire and werewolf organizations want this inefficiency to end.”

“What if I don’t care about efficiencies?”

“Would you care if you were demoted to VBS duty?”

VBS stood for Vampire Blood Supply—those of us Protectors who run blood banks to which humans unknowingly give blood to us. I knew from another case I’d been on that this was hard, dull, and inane work, especially if you have no love for humans, which I don’t.

“So,” Beryl asked again, “are you interested?”

I leaned back in the recliner and took a sip of blood. Working with a werewolf is better than being nice to humans to get their blood. “Of course, I am. Now.”

Beryl went on to explain some of the basics about werewolf society and the splits in it that are similar to those in vampire society, that is, the Wild Ones (equivalent to our Evil Ones); ferals and the “civilized” werewolves. I explained all that earlier in this narrative, and, if you, my reader, care that much about it or can’t remember it word for word as I’m sure my vampire readers can, I recommend you read that section again. The piece has a good bit of history, too.

If that was all Beryl had to tell me, I wouldn’t even be writing about this meeting. But he had more to say. Much more.

“Werewolves don’t like their Wild Ones or ferals any more than we like ours. Both give our races a bad name. Granted, werewolves don’t concern themselves with aliens, although I think they could help us with our hunts. Werewolves have a better sense of smell than we do, and some vampires think they could smell out aliens and relieve us of our multiple tests.”

“That would be a good thing.” Our tests to determine whether a human is an alien are troublesome and also often inaccurate because of aliens changing their strategies—but that’s not relevant to this tale.

Beryl shrugged. “However, I doubt it will happen. Regardless, they, like us, have organizations designed to control or kill the troublesome members of their race. There’s the Werewolf Organization Of Fighters or WOOF—”

“Really?” I asked. I couldn’t believe werewolves would come up with such a idiotic acronym. They’re as stupid as humans.

My chapter leader cleared his throat angrily and continued, “Your partner-to-be is a part of this organization so enjoys the hunt of evil ones of his race. They also have Pack Leaders Council of Central Iowa or PLCOCI and PLCOA, that’s the national level of the same organization. Werewolves live in packs, the packs have leaders—”

“And the leaders go to the Pack Leaders Council,” I interrupted. I always find it irritating when people, be they vampire, werewolf, human, or alien state the obvious. All races are stupid in that way.

Beryl continued with a bit irritation. “And the leaders of the state organizations go to the national level. Being werewolves, they like to establish dominance so a fair amount of fighting takes place at these meetings.”

“Well, that could be entertaining.” I thought this comment rather astute.

“I don’t think that’s the reason for the fighting.”

“I prefer our method of rising through our ability to handle operations.”

Beryl smiled. “At least in a few cases, you might have been better off if you’d been fighting for dominance.”

Okay, not all of my operations have gone well. But I always achieved my objective whether it was killing aliens or Evil Ones or an achievement of a much more mundane matter. If collateral damage occurred, stupidity happens.

“So why do I care about the leader of my partner-to-be?”

“You probably don’t. I do. He’s my contact.”

“Congratulations.” The more I heard about this upcoming operation, the less I liked it.

“We’ll be in contact with each other once we hear about the appearance of the vampwolf again so the two of you hunt it.”

“That’s nice.” What am I supposed to say to that? I feel better because both of us must suffer contact with the Hairy Ones?

Beryl sighed. I think sometimes he doesn’t like the comments I give. “We’ll see about that.” He glanced at me to see if I was going to say something else. Since I didn’t, he continued, “We’ll be in constant contact and will be only a cell phone call away from each of you to make sure you take care of the vampwolf appropriately. We do have slight problem. The werewolves want to kill the beast, not capture and study it. I assume you can convince your partner that the wiser course is to capture it.”

I should be able to; after all, we vampires are much more intelligent than humans, so we must be equally intellectually superior to werewolves. I smiled at the thought, looked at Beryl and shrugged. “I’ll give it a try.” Lowering expectations is always good.

He laughed softly.

“Do you know anything about my partner-to-be?” Best to be polite.

My chapter leader smiled, indicating that he liked my last question. “Yes, I do. I’m glad you’re taking a greater interest in this. Your partner is Joseph Butler, a thirty-year-old werewolf who’s killed many ferals and Wild Ones. He’s calmer and more in control than the average werewolf, so that should make working with him easier. According to his pack leader Grant, Joseph is often quite creative in handling bad situations. I thought that’s suitable for you since, in the past, you’ve also used rather unusual methods to achieve your ends.”

“So we’ve been partnered up because we’re both creative?”

“You could say that.”

“I just did.” I didn’t get a reaction, so I continued, “So I’ll meet him when we hear of the vampwolf appearing again?”

“No,” Beryl replied hesitantly. “Both Grant and I thought it best for you two to meet before you face the beast.” And he gave me the details. I didn’t like what he said at all. When he finished, he guzzled the rest of his blood, stood and stared down at me. “You’re the vampire in this partnership. Remember that. Joseph may act crazy and out of control. It’s your job, even in your first meeting to be the intellect of the two. Use the brain and intelligence which you’ve been given.”

At the time, I thought that was a pointless warning. A few days later, I would learn it wasn’t.

IX

Wild Ones

Friday 8:35 p.m.

Joseph stared at me. “What do you mean by that?”

I snorted. “I could be dead. If you and the Evil Ones hadn’t come when you did, I think the vampwolf would have killed me.”

The werewolf shrugged. “Well, we are partners.” A thought must have passed through his mind (okay, werewolves are capable of some thought), because he added, “Besides, I couldn’t let you get all the glory in killing the beast.”

Like that was going to happen. I’m lucky to be alive. Of course, I said neither. If Joseph thought we were going to kill the vampwolf, so be it. Well, at least until I convinced him otherwise. And now is not the time for that.

Joseph continued, “Well, I couldn’t. I’m a werewolf and we take pride in the hunt.”

Best not to remark on that, and perhaps time to change the subject. “So, how did your rescue of humans go?”

“Fine.”

Now you choose to be non-talkative. I sighed. “But did you find anybody who could possibly be the vampwolf?” Deciding not to wait for an answer, I told him about how I’d rescued the humans from the kitchen supply store and how I didn’t think any of them were likely suspects for being the vampwolf.

“I agree with that. Old people, skinny teenagers, and little kids are never vampwolves,” Joseph said. “My humans were much more interesting and one might have been the beast we just fought.”

I stood quietly since my partner hadn’t taken my last comments too well.

He stared at me, perhaps expecting me to praise him. Like I would do that. He’s a werewolf, after all.

Not getting a response, he said, “So I went to the cineplex—” He paused, gazed around the mall, looking both to the northwest hall and the northeast, and sniffed the air as he did so. I decided to sniff the air as well. I only smelled the pretzel stand close to the ruined kid’s playground and the normal antiseptic smell of a mall.

He must have smelled more than that because he growled. Even in human form, werewolves have a loud growl. “We’ve got visitors.” This time, he continued to look down the way we’d come.

“More vampires?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if they were. I still hadn’t come up with a good plan to deal with the Evil Ones.

“No, my kind.” He grimaced. “And not the friendly variety.”

Wild Ones. I groaned. Joseph stared at me. “It’s not like we need more competitors who want to hunt the creature,” I said.

“Unless they want to hunt us,” the werewolf said ominously.

And they’re werewolves. I have a hard enough time dealing with this one.

I saw them in human form only for a moment. They walked into sight down the same northeast part of the mall we’d gone through and, before I could see any definite details, not that I was trying too hard, the five leaped toward us and transformed into huge wolves the size of St. Bernards as quickly as Joseph had earlier. As they loped in our direction, I decided to name them since I wasn’t about to discover their names in human form.

The lead wolf had dark-black fur, was even taller and more muscular than Joseph in wolf form, and had a slightly shortened tail, so I named it Short Tail. Right behind it was a wolf with brown fur and about the same size as my partner but with a knick in its right ear, so I named it Nick. Loping next to this wolf was another wolf with brown fur that had golden streaks. It seemed leaner than the other two and a bit smaller as well. Regardless, I named it Streaker. Behind these two was another pair; the one to the right in almost golden fur with dark-green eyes, and leaner and smaller like Streaker, so I named it Green Eyes. The final one was also in black fur, big and muscular, although still smaller than the lead wolf, and I named it Small Black. I inhaled deeply. I don’t like this one bit.

And I liked it even less as Joseph leaped forward and turned into his large wolf self.

Okay, now I won’t have a clue as to what’s going on. Drawing my pistol with silver bullets, I decided I was ready for whatever they might choose to do. If they decide to kill us, I’m prepared. Besides, I can always shout for the help of the Evil Ones. I didn’t like that idea, but if the Evil Ones really wanted to show their stuff, helping us kill these Wild Ones might do it. I’ll keep that in mind.

Short Tail slid to a stop in front of Joseph and bared his teeth. Nick and Streaker slid to a stop on either side of Joseph and growled. Joseph growled back then continued to bare his teeth at Short Tail. Green Eyes leaped over Joseph and turned to help surround him. Joseph spun around and bared his teeth at the newcomer. Small Black also leaped over the circle of wolves, but it didn’t stop until it stood in front of me. I pointed my pistol at it. Like I’m going to show it fear. That’s not going to happen.

I watched as Short Tail growled at Joseph, who snarled back. Nick and Streaker both pawed at the floor. Green Eyes barked. Joseph spun around to face Green Eyes and bared his teeth. All of this activity might have had great meaning for all the wolves. To me, it meant nothing. Besides, I had Short Black pacing back and forth in front of me and snarling.

If they really wanted to kill us, they would have already attacked. And Joseph would be dead meat. He’d shown a certain prowess in fighting the vampwolf but not enough that I thought he could defeat four of his own kind at the same time. And Short Black wouldn’t have stopped in front of me. She—because now that she was closer I saw the tell-tale sign of her gender or the lack thereof would be more accurate—would have pounced on me and I would have shot her numerous times before one or the other of us would have died. With that, I knew these Wild Ones were no more intent upon killing us than the Evil Ones had been. They really must be hunting the vampwolf, too.

Having settled that in my mind, I decided to ignore Joseph’s confrontation with the four—since I didn’t understand what was happening anyway—and focus on Short Black.

“Hello,” I said as politely as I could. Not that werewolves deserve politeness, especially in wolf form, but it’s the principle of the matter. “I’ve named you Short Black, I hope you don’t mind.” I knew it didn’t matter what I said because she was a wolf and couldn’t understand human language anyway. “Except for last night, an experience best not talked or thought about, this is the first time I’ve met werewolves. I realize you’re not too fond of Joseph—he’s my partner who turned into a wolf as you approached—but that’s fine with me because I’m not too fond of him either. It’s not that he’s a bad guy…well, maybe I should rephrase that.” I paused to think of the best way to explain.

Short Black had stopped her pacing as I’d talked with her and stopped growling, snarling, or baring her teeth. At my silence, she growled again. “There’s no need for that,” I said. And there wasn’t. “Joseph and I could be said to be getting along although we haven’t always and I doubt we will.”

I shrugged. “He can’t help it that he’s one of your kind. Like I can’t help that I’m a vampire. We just are. Like you. In human form, you may be a beautiful young woman with flowing black hair. Of course, you’re a werewolf, so I would expect you to be impulsive and probably wild in bed. Or at least I’ve heard you werewolves are like that. Not that I know.” Again I paused. “And I don’t really want to know.”

That’s the truth. Having sex with a werewolf. I felt a shiver down my spine at the thought. Not many things scare me, being a vampire and all, but that did.

“Really,” I added. “I should probably—”

Before I could finish my statement, Short Tail barked twice, turned and dashed down the northeast portion of the mall. Nick, who I now saw to be female so knew I should have been calling her Nikki; Streaker, and Green Eyes bounded after him. Short Black stared at me as I stood there silently, then turned and dashed behind her fellow wolves. They vanished from sight and I guessed they either left the mall or decided possibly to take up residence at the department store or the sporting goods store that were in the northeast part of the mall.

Joseph turned, walked toward me, and turned back into a human in the process.

“That didn’t go too badly,” I said. After all, we’re alive. That’s always a good thing.

My partner rolled his eyes. “Easy for you to say.”

Since I had, I felt remarking on his comment would be redundant.

Not hearing any response, he continued, “They’re here to hunt the vampwolf, all right. Like your Evil Ones they think it might be a good training exercise.”

“And it will be, if they don’t die.”

“We werewolves don’t fear death.” His eyes glowed angrily.

Again, I thought it better not to comment.

Joseph shook his head. “Anyway, they were surprised to find us here and especially me working with you. They didn’t like it.”

I don’t like it either, but you don’t hear me complaining.

“Because of that, the leader challenged me to a fight if we all survive our encounters with the beast.”

“Does that bother you?” Acting interested seemed best.

“Of course not. That’s what we do. Fight to protect our honor.” The werewolf smiled. “And I’ll win.”

“Well, we’ll deal with that when we can.”

Joseph growled. “Sounds like you aren’t too worried about the Wild Ones.”

“You were never too worried about the Evil Ones.”

He shrugged. “Point taken. In any case, the Wild Ones will be in the northeast department store until they fight the vampwolf.”

“I guess that’s as good a place to be as the bookstore.” I glanced around and this time didn’t see anybody else approaching. “Anyway, you were about to tell me about the humans you rescued and how one might be the vampwolf.”

This time Joseph was able to tell me about his rescue of the humans. They were in one of the larger theaters in the cineplex, and, to Joseph’s relief, the movie wasn’t running. He’d been worried he’d have to shout at them or they’d be afraid of him due to the flashing lights of the movie. As I had with my group, he introduced himself as a security guard come to get them out of the mall, and the others introduced themselves, except for the tall, muscular, blond-haired young man wearing the University of Iowa t-shirt. Some of the others explained that he’d helped get them to this theater while the beast had been rampaging through the mall, and, since that time, he’d often gone out to check and see what was happening. Within the theater sound-proofed for a better cinematic experience, they couldn’t hear anything happening outside. With the urging of the others, the young man introduced himself as Max, and he said he was on the University of Iowa football team, but he rarely got to play. When asked about his deeds of heroism, he was shy and didn’t say much.

After this conversation taking far longer than Joseph had hoped, which I understood completely, my partner led them from the theater, through the cineplex, past the huge concession stand, and into the mall itself. When they reached the doors to leave the mall, Max dashed back into the mall. Joseph and the others shouted to him, but Max continued his flight. My partner watched as the others left the mall to be met by the police outside. The police gathered these unfortunates up as a mother dog gathers her pups. Not long after that, Joseph heard the beast’s howling and met me for the fight that ensued.

“Then Max must have been who I saw on the second floor before I saw the vampwolf,” I said. I described the scene.

“Makes sense to me. Let’s go get him.”

I laughed. “Right. Do you know where he is?”

“If we get him in human form, we may have a chance.”

True. Score one for the werewolf. But I wasn’t going to say that. “But if we can’t find him, it doesn’t matter if we can overpower him.”

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to find him. Killing him is the best way to save the humans.”

Ah, yes, them. I smirked. “The best way to save the humans is to get them out of the mall. And that’s what I propose we do.”

“Look, we have to get the vampwolf in human form—”

“I’m not saying we don’t,” I interrupted, “but since we don’t know where he is, we should get another group or two of humans out of the mall.”

“But—”

I was getting tired of this. He isn’t listening to me at all. It’s like the Wild Ones made him wild, too. Of course, maybe I can’t convince him, but I think I know someone who can. “My boss wants us to deal with the vampwolf, but he also thinks that rescuing the humans is as important, if not more so.”

“My boss told me to kill the vampwolf—”

“And save the humans,” I interrupted.

Joseph growled.

“Call him, and give him our choices, see what he says,” I suggested.

The werewolf rolled his eyes, then he pulled a cell phone from his pocket, pressed a few buttons and waited for a response. He briefly explained our situation. “So I say we should go after the beast, but my partner…” He stared angrily at me. “…says we should rescue more humans.” He listened. “No, we don’t know that.” Pause. “We know of four more groups.” Pause. “No, they haven’t gone well, but—” Pause. “I know.” Pause. “Some so-called evil bloodsuckers.” Pause. “I mean vampires.” Pause. “Yes, I know,” he said in a discouraged voice. “Okay.” Pause. “Okay.” Pause. “Yes.” Pause. “All right.” Pause. “I will.”

He growled and this time not at me. He shoved his cell phone back in his pocket, stared at me, and said, “Humans first.”

“Good. I’ll—” But before I could say more, Joseph turned away from me, leaped into the air, transformed into a wolf and charged up the stairs and toward one of the two groups in the southern part of the mall.

“Okay,” I said to the empty air, “you take the second floor restroom or movie theater.” I hoped he took the restroom, but since he’d done the cineplex before, I guessed that was his destination again. I wanted to discuss our choices. Because restrooms and I don’t get along the best.

I shrugged. I’d have to deal with that sometime, but not yet.

X

Child’s Play

Okay, maybe I should have considered Joseph’s idea a bit more seriously. He was right that we were better off trying to catch, or kill, the vampwolf in human form and, based on both of our experiences, Max seemed to be our most likely suspect. Although I did find it strange that he changed his mind from wanting to rescue all the humans—and werewolves do like their humans—to pursuing the vampwolf, I thought this change of heart, or mind as the case may be, might be due to our encounter with the Wild Ones, but since I was completely ignorant of the ways of werewolves, and largely still am, I couldn’t trust my gut instincts and my reasoning skill was also at a disadvantage.

Regardless, I stood by myself next to our two backpacks in roughly the center of the mall and knew I had to decide which group of humans I wanted to rescue next. Not really. I knew I wasn’t going to try to rescue the humans in the restrooms until I absolutely had to. I have issues with restrooms. Or more specifically mirrors in restrooms.

I knew four or five humans were in a relatively small store on the second floor right next to the northwest department store. The fact the vampires hiding in the bookstore hadn’t attacked them was further proof the Evil Ones, like Joseph and me and the Wild Ones, were really hunting the vampwolf. In any case, the first group I’d rescued had also been in a relatively small store. Perhaps humans like small spaces when threatened.

Since Joseph was probably getting the other human group in the second cineplex theater, this group was the only one remaining not in a restroom. Thus, it was my choice. Since the Evil Ones were in the bookstore on the second floor between where I was and this other small store, I decided rather than taking my chances at making them angry, I would try a different route.

After letting my mind spread out and confirm the locations of the humans and the Evil Ones, I dashed westward, avoiding the broken wooden kiosks that littered the northwest corridor, occasionally jumping over an entire pile of refuse and products—from laptops to moon lamps—and at other times hopping over a broken shelf or plank that had fallen on the floor.

This vampwolf must like destruction because it’s certainly made a mess of this mall. Comes from being a wild animal in an enclosed space. I smiled. Too bad Beryl wants to capture it. I stopped close to the northwest department store to gaze at the broken up and down escalators, destroyed by planks from the broken kiosks that had been jammed between a few stairs, destroying these escalators in a similar fashion to those at the center of the mall. The crunched metal with its jagged edges and the sharp tops of the planks made the escalator a dangerous way to get up or down from the second floor. Again, I smiled. Well, for humans.

Being a vampire, I sprinted toward the mess that was the escalators, deciding to take the “down” escalator since that was the opposite direction from where I was going, then leaped into the air above the planks that stuck up like giant spikes in a pit and landed on the sharp twisted metal long enough to jump to the second floor. Ah, the glories of being a vampire. As I dodged through this dangerous area, I was careful not to damage my mall security outfit. It was the best cover I had, and after my encounter with the humans in the kitchen supply store, I knew its effectiveness.

I strode toward the small store. As I reached the front of it, I had to admit it was a sight to behold. Directly in front of me and to the east was a counter and two cash registers, both open but also both containing money so I doubted much theft had occurred. Farther along the east wall was an assortment of clothes wrapped in plastic and sized perfectly to fit a rather chubby six-month-old baby: dresses, pants, shirts, skirts, jackets and blouses in every color of the rainbow and often in more than one or two colors and all shiny and bright enough to blind an adult with any modicum of taste.

Along the west wall were some shelves filled with stuffed animals the correct size to fit the clothes. Most of the stuffed animals were bears, again in a variety of colors but predominately purple, pink and blue, but there were also zebras, cows, bunnies, foxes, pigs, goats, kangaroos and two cats, all enclosed in rectangular boxes with clear plastic fronts through which each of the animals could be seen. Further along the wall, the plastic shelves were empty from the floor to the ceiling. Because all of these boxes of stuffed animals made a wall about two-thirds of the way into the store.

The wall went two-thirds across the width of the store and was made of boxes of stuffed animals with their long sides toward the floor. This wall was about four feet tall, six feet long and two boxes thick. All the boxes with bears had their heads towards the east wall; all the other animals their heads toward the west wall. The pattern of the boxes made a rather pleasing color palette with all the purple stuffed animals on the top two rows and the other colors in the lower rows with the pinks and blues together and the rest of the colors spread throughout. Somebody went to a lot of work to construct this. Behind the wall, I heard the whispers of young girls.

In front of this wall were a few partially dressed stuffed bears: one in a pink dress, one in a blue dress, one with a flashy purple jacket and black pants partially on, one with a black-and-scarlet cape, and one bunny with a pink dress partially on. The wrappings for the little clothes were scattered around these partially dressed animals.

Although all of these items were interesting, I quickly took them in before letting my attention fall to a boy, I guessed to be about seven, with blond hair and blue eyes and wearing blue jean shorts and a t-shirt, decorated with a red ostrich wearing a bowtie. So this is where he went, I thought. But where’s Carole? In each of the boy’s ears was a white ear bud and from each a thin white wire wound its way to the right pocket of his jeans shorts. With his eyes closed, he whirled and twirled, jumped and spun, wove his hands around his face and generally worked his booty perhaps for the pleasure of the hiding girls.

Despite my appreciation of his artistic motions, I knew I had to interrupt him because (1) his mother was probably looking for him and worried about him and (2) I thought I might be able to use him to help get the rest of these kids out of the mall.

“Timmy,” I said quietly and stepped toward him.

The boy continued dancing.

“Timmy,” I said more loudly.

The boy continued dancing.

I stepped close enough to him that I placed my hand on his head and shouted, “Timmy!”

The boy stopped, stared at me, yanked the ear bud from his right ear and stated deliberately, “I’m not Timmy. I’m Tommy.”

Gazing at his t-shirt, I realized he was right that he wasn’t Timmy. Timmy’s shirt was decorated with an orange gorilla wearing a purple cape, while Tommy’s had the red ostrich with a bowtie. I shook my head at my own stupidity.

“You look just like him,” I said. Okay, that was a stupid statement worthy of a human.

“Duh,” Tommy said. “We’re twins.”

“But Tommy’s cuter,” a girl’s voice said from behind the wall of boxes. The other girls giggled.

The boy ignored her. “Do you know where Mommy and Timmy are?”

I wanted to say I knew where they were, and if they’d left the same way as the other people in the kitchen supply store, I would have felt good saying so, but I didn’t. I assumed they were outside the mall, but I wasn’t certain. So, being honest as we vampires tend to be, I said, “Sorry, no, I don’t.”

“You’re not a very good security guard,” Tommy said.

A chorus of whispers behind the wall agreed. Tommy is certainly more mouthy than Timmy.

“Speaking of that,” I said. “I’m here to get you out of the mall.” I waited for a response, and hearing none, continued, “Girls, please come out so I can see you.”

Tommy stepped closer to the eastern wall as I took two steps back and watched four heads appear above the wall of boxes. Four girls walked out in front of it. The first girl, about seven years old, had shoulder-length black hair, a toothy smile, and brown eyes, and wore a pink blouse and a tutu. The second girl, I guessed to be six years old, had strawberry blonde shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, and a rather small mouth, and she wore a purple blouse and purple shorts. The third girl, about eight years old, had curly red hair, freckles, and green eyes, and she wore a bright yellow t-shirt and a long yellow-and-green-striped skirt. And the fourth girl, close to five years old, had straight black hair, brown eyes, a smile with one of her two front teeth missing, and wore a red dress with blue polka-dots. The first girl gazed adoringly at Tommy.

“I’m Officer Johnson,” I said.

“And I’m Tommy,” said the boy as if taking my cue.

“I’m Arya,” said the girl in pink.

“I’m Sophia,” said the blonde-haired girl.

“I’m Tiffany,” said the redhead.

“I’m Grace,” said the girl with the missing front teeth.

I smiled. That went better than planned. But I didn’t realize that in getting the girls to speak, I’d opened an unexpected floodgate.

Arya gazed at Tommy again, then looked indignantly at me. “Tommy’s right, because you’re not a very good security guard because a good security guard would have killed that nasty beast that made such a mess of the mall and scared away our parents and made the friendly people all afraid, so they ran off and left us kids, who didn’t have our parents here all by ourselves and the other parents with kids here, you know, these parents left with their kids because they were helping their kids buy and make their bear or their bunny, but I think the bears are the best, and that’s why I made my mommy buy me one before she went to go shopping and left me here all by myself, well, me and Sophia and Tiffany and Grace and Tommy, and if it weren’t for Tommy, who went out to check about the monster and told us to build this wall here… I think it’s nice and well built too, because I said we should have the bears’ heads point toward one wall and the rest toward the other wall because, well, it looks better, and I think I would be a good architect someday except my mommy wants me to be a doctor, but they have to deal with blood, and I don’t like blood, but that doesn’t matter because Tommy is so brave because sometimes he was gone for a while, and I didn’t know what we’d do, but before we go can I get my bear because I named her Sara and she’s in a pink dress—”

Tommy rolled his eyes. I resisted doing the same. Although Arya’s tale was never-ending and full of digressions that I couldn’t decide whether to believe or not, she was providing me with enough information that I knew approximately what had happened to Tommy and his female companions.

“—I really like pink because I think it’s the best color, and that’s why I’m wearing pink, although Mommy helped me pick out this outfit today, and she does every day because she’s a good mommy except today when she left me with Sophia and Tiffany and Grace, but luckily Tommy was here, and I think he’d look good in pink because everybody looks good in pink—don’t you think, but maybe—”

I cleared my throat.

Arya ignored me and kept talking. “—that’s not the important thing, but it is because we should always look good, or that’s what Mommy says—”

“Arya,” I said.

But she ignored me. “—and that’s why she likes Daddy when he wears a suit—”

“Arya,” I said again.

Tommy groaned and rolled his eyes again. Maybe he left these girls for such long periods of time because Arya talks so much.

“—but I’m sure he’d look good in pink, but Tommy would because he’s so cute, and he’s much cuter than Timmy—”

“Arya,” I said. I might have to use mind control to get her to stop her mindless prattle. Because as long as she was talking, I wasn’t getting them out of the mall.

Tommy stared at me then at Arya and back at me as the girl continued with her non-stop digression. He grabbed her shoulders with both hands and shouted, “Shut up!”

Arya paused in mid-word, stared at Tommy then at the girls, then at me. Then she burst into tears.

“Finally,” Tommy said in relief.

“Mister,” said Tiffany, “that’s our Arya, she just talks and talks and talks and talks and talks and talks and talks—”

“Yeah, all the time,” agreed Sophia even as Tiffany continued to say “and talks” and Arya continued to weep and wail.

Now it’s worse than when Arya was talking. And I still didn’t have these kids on their way out of the mall. Although I’m not good at comforting humans and really don’t like it, in years of dealing with them, I’ve at least developed the skills to do it. I knelt down and hugged Arya, patting her on the back and saying things like “It’ll be all right…” “That was mean of Tommy to shout at you…” “I’m sorry your mommy left you here…” and the like.

Tiffany kept saying “and talks,” a speech that was possibly even more inane than Arya’s. Sophia kept nodding her head in agreement. Tommy sighed disgustedly, put the ear bud back in his right ear and began dancing again. Grace sat on the floor and cried.

Okay, I thought, mind control is my only option. Luckily, I’d learned a good deal about mind control since my “regular” VATE days, so, except for extreme cases or when I was very weak, I didn’t need to prepare myself the way I used to. Besides, I’d had that gallon of blood in the afternoon. I still regretted having to use my energy to get these unruly kids in order. But a job’s a job regardless of its merits. First, my mind dashed into Arya’s where I put happy thoughts, thoughts about not missing her mommy, about being quiet and about obeying the good security guard. Next was Tiffany, to make her shut up without shouting at her, and also for her to be quiet and to obey the good security guard. Third was Grace, to whom I added happy thoughts and, well, you know the rest. All that took about ten seconds—human children’s minds are so easy to work. I figured if I got these three girls to obey me Sophia and Tommy would come along for the ride.

Arya gently pulled away from me and dried her tears. “Thank you, Mr. Security Guard. You are very good.”

Grace stood up and dried her tears as well. “I’m sorry I started crying, Mr. Security Guard. Arya’s right. You’re very good.”

Tiffany stopped talking and smiled.

Sophia, taking the lead from her friends, smiled at me, too. She didn’t compliment me, but I hadn’t been in her mind either.

Well, this is better.

Tommy stopped dancing, gazed approvingly at the quiet girls, then stared at me. “Hey, you’ve got a sword!”

“Yeah,” said Tiffany.

“Can we touch it?” asked Grace.

I sighed. “Sure.”

Grace stepped closer and lightly touched it with her right index finger and pulled her hand away as if the sword were on fire. Tiffany stepped up and put three fingers on it. Sophia looked at it and shrugged. Arya stepped up and put her entire right hand on it. Tommy looked from the girls to the sword and back to me.

“Don’t want to touch it?” I asked.

“It’s strange that a security guard would have one,” he said.

“Yeah,” I admitted, “but I’m a special security guard because of the monster in the mall.”

Tommy stepped forward, grabbed the sword’s hilt and began to pull it from its sheath. I put my hand over his and stopped him. “No, it’s not something for you to play with.”

“Okay,” he said hesitantly.

I sighed. “It’s time for me to get you out of this mall and back to your parents.”

“Will our mommies be waiting for us?” asked Arya.

Of course, the vocal one. “I’m not sure,” I said truthfully, “but lots of police are around the mall and I’m certain they’ll get you to your parents as soon as possible.”

“Even mine?” asked Tommy. “And Timmy, too?”

I snorted. “Yes, even you and Timmy, too.”

The boy smiled back and giggled.

“All right,” I said. “If you want anything from this store, get it now because I don’t know how soon you’ll be able to come back.”

Arya grabbed the bear partially dressed in the pink dress, Sophia the bear in the flashy purple jacket, Tiffany the bear in the blue dress, and Grace the bunny in the pink dress. The bear with the scarlet and black cape remained on the floor.

“Tommy, do you want to take yours?” I asked, assuming it was his.

“Nah,” he said. “I don’t really like it.”

Arya smiled and grabbed that bear, too. “I’ll take it just in case you want it once we’re gone.” And she gazed adoringly at the boy.

Tommy looked at me and shook his head.

“Okay,” I said. “You five stay here while I check to see if the mall is safe.”

“Just like Tommy,” Arya said.

Timmy and Tommy come from brave stock. Rather than responding, I took the six steps I needed—I have very long legs thus the few steps—to get me in front of the store. I knew the Evil Ones hadn’t attacked the children yet but that didn’t mean that these vampires would leave the kids alone for good. Also, and for me more important, I had to check to make sure the vampwolf wasn’t on the rampage.

I gazed back to where I’d come getting to this toy store and again surveyed the damage wrought by the vampwolf on the bottom floor. The top floor was deserted. I looked into the department store that was relatively untouched by the rampage of the beast. A few racks of clothes were knocked over, but I guessed they were more caused by humans fleeing the beast rather than by the beast itself.

I didn’t see the vampwolf or the Evil Ones in either direction. Good. I took another look into the department store because I hoped to use its north exit to get the kids out of the mall. Deep within the store. I thought I saw a shadow move, but with all the racks of clothes, cases of jewelry and shelves filled with kitchenware, I wasn’t sure. But it can’t be the vampwolf because it would be rampaging through the store. If that shadow is another sort of threat, I’ll deal with it only if it wants to deal with me.

Motioning to the children, I said, “It’s all clear. Come on.”

Tommy dashed to my side with Arya not far behind. The other three hurried as well but also whispered to each other and giggled. I guessed it was about Tommy and Arya and thought it better not to ask. I stepped closer to Tommy, told him my plan of escape, and he nodded in agreement although he still had the ear bud in his left ear.

Finally, we were off: Tommy in front, with Arya almost at his side, the three other girls behind him, and me in the rear. We walked across from the teddy bear store to the nearby department store, ignoring the broken escalator and the other damage the vampwolf had inflicted upon the mall—a few claims adjusters will be busy for a long time—and went into the department store. Tommy led the way, so rather than going straight down an aisle between the racks of clothes and to the center of the store he led us through the women’s clothing as if we were charting a course in an unknown jungle. But I wasn’t about to complain because at least we’d left the toy store behind.

I was glad when we reached the escalator, even gladder that it worked. I glanced back at the racks of sun dresses, blouses, tees, separates, skirts and swimsuits—both two- and one-piece. I wonder how Joseph is doing. Probably waiting impatiently for me to return. Tommy stood at the top of the down escalator.

Then he hopped on and Arya right beside him. Then Tiffany. Then Sophia. Then Grace. Then me. As I sank below the second floor, a person dashed behind me and sprinted toward the department store entrance. I recognized the tall, broad-shouldered young man wearing the University of Iowa t-shirt. Max! The vampwolf! Well, maybe. I gazed from him to my group of kids. Beryl will be mad if he hears I left a group of kids to chase after a possible vampwolf. Especially if the kids later complain about it and it causes more work for WOVACOM.

At the bottom of the escalator, Tommy and Arya stepped off, followed by Tiffany, Sophia, Grace and me. This time I took the lead. The six of us walked around the escalator that faced the perfume department that led back into the mall, to another women’s clothing department—for petite women, the sign said—and to the double doors leading out of the mall. I let the kids walk by me.

Arya stopped in front of me. “Thank you, Officer Johnson, for getting us out of the mall. You’re a very good security guard, I don’t care what anybody else says.” She stared at Tommy, who shrugged then smiled at her. She smiled back.

“And protecting us from that terrible monster,” Sophia added.

“You’re welcome,” I lied. “I always enjoy helping young people like you.” No reason to tell them the truth.

All the girls blushed.

“Tommy,” I said, “please escort our ladies to the police.”

The boy saluted. I saluted back. He held open one of the first set of doors and the girls walked through, then he held open a door to the outside and followed the girls out.

That could have gone better, but at least it’s over.

I walked toward the department store’s entrance to the mall. Behind me, I heard a boy’s laughter. Turning around, I glanced through the mall’s glass doors to see the kids being surrounded by the police, and Arya looking back frantically at the mall.

From the bowels of the mall, I heard a loud, deep howl, and all thoughts of the kids vanished from my mind.

XI

Vampires vs. Vampwolf

The vampwolf! This time we’ll capture it! Because that was what Beryl wanted. Unless Joseph kills it first. I smirked. Yeah, right. Given the strength and speed of that beast, if two of us weren’t there to fight it, whoever fought it would die.

Even as these thoughts went through my mind, I dashed from the double set of glass doors through the petite women’s department, through the empty perfume department (that still reeked of lavender, fruit and cologne) and to the department store’s entrance to the mall. Another loud, deep howl from the bowels of the mall told me the creature was somewhere deeper.

I sprinted eastward, past the broken escalator and the huge piles of wood and products that had once been kiosks, to the center of the mall with its broken escalators, broken elevator and relatively untouched staircase. And to where I’d last fought the beast. Stopping by our two backpacks that hadn’t moved since I’d dropped them there fifteen minutes before, I gazed around at the few mounds of wood and products from what had been kiosks here and the destroyed car not so far away. Not here. Oh where oh where has the vampwolf gone?

“We’ve got you now!” shouted a young man’s voice.

And not just any young man.

Butch! The Evil Ones are fighting it.

I climbed the staircase, taking three steps at a time, and reached the second floor. I stood at the top of the staircase with the broken escalator going down to my left and the other broken escalator going up to my right. On either side were walkways leading to the northern part of the second floor. To the west beyond the broken escalator was the broken elevator. Directly in front of me and to my left were an ice cream shop, a music shop, a Gothic clothing store and a women’s clothing store before the semi-circular food court began. To my right was a coffee shop, a deluxe chocolates store, a small women’s clothing store, and two large women’s clothing stores across from the huge semi-circular food court area filled with tables and booths, now with many of the tables and chair overturned.

Also, in front of me were destroyed wooden kiosks selling clocks, purses, sunglasses, with the clocks and purses kiosks looking as if the vampwolf had jumped on top of them to crush them, while the sunglasses one was smashed and pushed over on its left side, leaving a huge open area at the point where the mall expanded into its food court.

In that spot, the vampwolf stood, with Amber east of it, Patrice west, Butch south and Ian north. Each of these vampires held a long sword. Above the vampwolf flew a small black bat that I guessed to be Reginald.

Taking in this scene, possible courses of action filled my mind:

1. Flee. A nonsensical idea since the vampwolf was surrounded by the Evil Ones and would have to kill them—or they him—before any of them was a threat to me. If I stayed where I was, I would be relatively safe.

2. Watch the fight. As I was doing. Well, I was watching the opponents ready to fight. Although a more logical course than option 1, this wasn’t necessarily an option that would aid my ultimate mission to catch the beast. Granted, it could aid Joseph’s since he wanted the beast dead, so it didn’t matter if the two of us or the Evil Ones killed it, because either way the vampwolf was dead. Of course, the vampwolf could kill the Evil Ones then attack me in which case I would still be no worse off than during my last encounter with the beast. Or, after defeating the Evil Ones, it might escape as mist as in my last two encounters with it. Regardless, I could make further plans after watching the fight progress.

3. Help the Evil Ones by attacking the vampwolf with my sword. If I believed the four vampires could kill or possibly critically wound the beast, my helping them might be enough for them to succeed in their task. Of course, if they killed it, again, Joseph would be happy and I would not. If the Evil Ones, with my help, severely wounded the vampwolf—but didn’t kill it—I could capture it; thus, my helping them would be worthwhile, but I didn’t see that as a likely possibility since, they, like Joseph, wanted it dead. Despite all of these possibilities, they all were negated by the fact that the idea of helping Evil Ones was gut-wrenchingly repulsive since I’d done that before, against my better judgment, and it still haunted me.

4. Help the Evil Ones by shooting my pistol with its silver bullets rather than helping in hand-to-hand combat. This option had the same negatives as option 3. That is, helping Evil Ones. Its advantage was that I could help them without putting myself in harm’s way until such time as the vampwolf or the Evil Ones were dead. So, if the Evil Ones only injured the beast, I could injure it further and capture it. Still a repulsive option because I’d be helping the Evil Ones, but not quite as repulsive as 3.

5. Run around the battle and find Joseph so that the two of us could help the Evil Ones fight the vampwolf. Not a bad plan except I didn’t know exactly where Joseph was, or if he would want to help fight with the Evil Ones, or if he would fight the Evil Ones instead of the beast. Too much uncertainty in this option to make it viable.

Option 4 it was. I drew my pistol from its holster. I planned to wound, not kill, the beast. That is, if or when the opportunity presented itself.

Amber and Patrice, both with swords raised, charged and leaped toward the vampwolf. Its giant hands grabbed both in mid-flight, smashed their heads together (although they kept hold of their swords), then flung them to either side of it. Amber slid into a women’s clothing store, and Patrice out of sight into the food court. Ian and Butch, also with swords raised, shouted and charged, only to meet the backhand of the vampwolf’s massive hands. Butch slid past numerous busted kiosks toward the south side of the mall, while Ian slid within ten feet of me.

The bat continued to fly over the beast that, now unoccupied, jumped in the air and swiped its long claws toward the bat. The claws went through empty air as the bat flew around in circles.

Not that Reginald’s trainees would fly from their prey. Amber dashed toward the vampwolf, again with sword raised, only to be smashed yet again by the beast’s giant hand and again flung out of sight into the clothing store. Butch, with sword raised, charged another time, only to be smashed to the floor with one of the beast’s feet, his sword clattering far away, as the vampwolf’s foot and claws held him to the floor. Patrice, with sword raised, screamed as she sprinted toward the beast and leaped into the air, swinging her sword. Only to be caught by the vampwolf in one hand and seconds later to be decapitated by a claw of the other hand. The small bit of ash she became slipped to the floor.

Now’s my chance. My hand pointed my pistol at the beast’s knees, surely a spot to wound but not kill the creature. A few bullets should do it. Or so I thought. But I didn’t fire. Although I’d fought the vampwolf hand-to-hand twice, with so little success, I still didn’t use this opportunity to fire a few silver bullets at it. Little did I know at the time that my inaction wasn’t as tragic as I was thinking, because if I had acted, the events unfolding wouldn’t have changed much. But I didn’t know that then.

Butch dissolved into mist and re-solidified at the feet of the beast as Amber again attacked the creature by jumping into the air and swinging her sword. Only for her to be caught in one of the vampwolf’s hands by her legs and swung at Butch, who was ducking to grab his sword, her sword gashing his back and sending blood splattering, then to be tossed at the ceiling, which she hit before plummeting to the floor, where she crashed with the crunching of bones.

We vampires are very strong, fast and intelligent, but we can be hurt. If cut, we will bleed. And if hit hard enough, our bones will break. Granted, we heal quickly, and, if we have enough strength to turn into mist and re-solidify, all our wounds can vanish. Amber probably didn’t have enough strength to turn into mist and she was unconscious, too, so that wasn’t one of her alternatives.

About ten feet in front of me, Ian grunted. I guessed he’d had enough of watching his fellow Evil Ones suffer the wrath of the vampwolf. He stood and silently broke into a run. The vampwolf had other concerns. Moving toward Butch, it stepped on Amber’s unconscious body and decapitated her with the claws on that foot. Even as Butch reached for his sword, the beast grabbed him and lifted him in the air, then turned toward Ian who aimed his sword at the beast. The vampwolf opened its hand wide enough for Ian’s sword to stab through Butch, who screamed, and to puncture the beast’s hand. Ian fell to the floor, staring at his damaged companion. Who became more so as the vampwolf bit his head off. Butch melted into ash.

I still didn’t fire my pistol. The vampwolf’s arms and legs were ready targets, but I merely stared at them and the destruction the beast was inflicting upon others of my kind.

The vampwolf yanked the sword from its palm, then slammed both hands together around Ian. As the enormous hands separated, the young vampire collapsed to the floor, then was beheaded by the claws on one of the beast’s feet.

And all of that had taken less than five minutes, maybe less than three.

If it can kill four vampires, it probably can kill five werewolves, even in wolf mode. I imagined the five Wild Ones fighting the vampwolf in the department store: Streaker being smashed between the beast’s giant hands, dropping to the floor with a crushed head. Small Black being sliced to ribbons by the vampwolf’s long, sharp claws. Short Tail leaping at the beast, then being caught and bitten in two by the vampwolf’s dagger-like teeth. A huge, hairy, clawed foot squashing Green Eyes against the floor, then the claws slicing the golden-furred wolf to bits. And Nikki leaping on the beast’s back, then smashed as the beast slammed down against the floor. Leaving five dead werewolves in human form, each covered in white fur.

It can kill four vampires or five werewolves, so how have Joseph and I survived our encounters with it?

The answer to that question wasn’t coming to me at the moment. As the bat flew toward one of the mall’s southern entrances, it flitted out of sight. That left only the vampwolf and me. I saw the beast hadn’t escaped unscathed from the fight. Blood dripped from one of its hands, one knee and a few spots on its chest. Not that these wounds concerned the vampwolf because it stared at me and growled. I finally released the safety from my pistol. Now, I thought, now. And heard a high pitched howl as I saw a huge brown-furred wolf leaping toward the beast.

To fly through empty air and skid to a stop in front of me. The vampwolf had dissolved into mist and vanished again.

Joseph morphed back into human form. “Why didn’t you shoot it, man?”

I didn’t reply.

The werewolf rolled his eyes, reminding me so much of Tommy.

I’m not dead and wasn’t even pulled into the fight. That’s a good thing.

Or so I thought. I gathered my partner didn’t as his eyes glowed angrily and he drew his sword.

XII

At a Bar

9 p.m. Thursday

Yes, I met my partner less than twenty-four hours before we were to encounter the vampwolf. Not that I knew that at the time of our “meeting” what would take place the next evening. Our respective bosses had arranged this get-together between the two of us. Beryl had wanted it on Tuesday or Wednesday, but Joseph’s boss had been able to schedule it only on Thursday—I don’t know if the werewolf pack leader put off the meeting or if Joseph did. Regardless, both Beryl and Joseph’s boss had wanted it before Friday night since that was the time of the first attack by the beast a week before.

Not that I minded having to meet with my werewolf partner. No, that’s a lie. I did mind. I didn’t want a werewolf for a partner for any sort of case. Werewolves are…well, if you’ve been reading this narrative up to this point, you should already know. To you werewolves reading this, I apologize if any offense has been taken. (Get over it—you’re an obnoxious race.) To you vampires, keep all these incidents in mind when dealing with these shape-shifters.

Regardless, I stood outside a huge country-western bar in the eastern part of West Des Moines. The bar was a free-standing building and rather imposing—although quite small compared to the mall where I would spend my next evening. Since it was early summer, the sun still hadn’t set, yet another thing I didn’t like about this assignment. We vampires like the dark of night and aren’t so crazy about the light of day. But it was summer in Iowa, so what could I expect?

The bar stood two stories tall with a front porch and had a barnlike appearance with its name “Lucky Lady” emblazoned upon its front. A huge parking lot steadily filled with vehicles on its west side. To its east along the road leading to the bar were a tire shop, a coffee shop, an empty lot, and then one of the busiest north-south streets in West Des Moines.

From the parking lot, groups of people swarmed into the bar like crows attracted to carrion or flies to rotten food. Since they were coming to a country-western bar, many people dressed the role. Young women wore cowboy hats, leather boots, denim skirts or dresses, and vests in a variety of fabrics and colors. Men of all ages wore cowboy hats (predominately black), leather boots, blue jeans, and t-shirts or plaid shirts.

Other women, primarily young ones, also wore short black dresses, or sheer white blouses and black leather skirts, or t-shirts and very short shorts. Men also appeared in regular Iowa summer dress—muscle shirts or t-shirts and shorts. I was wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans. I would have liked to hide the paleness of my skin, but such a deed can’t be done by even the most powerful of vampires.

Many of the groups of women smiled at me as they entered. A woman in what I guessed to be her early forties even asked me to join her. I declined. Many of the groups of men snickered at me as they passed. Being different is part of being a vampire, so I duly ignored them. Besides, I could have easily killed them if I had wanted, not that I did, because that was Evil One type behavior.

Not only did I not want to meet my partner-to-be, I particularly didn’t want to meet him at a bar. Especially a dance club like this one where the music inside made the building’s outside walls shake. I much preferred a meeting at a coffee house, preferably on a night when it didn’t have live music, where, over tea or coffee and a pastry of our choice (yes, I have a bit of a sweet tooth—pun intended), we could discuss our prior assignments, the strategies each of us had used in the past, and the possible strategies we could use on our current mission. We could speak in hushed tones so the other customers might overhear bits of our conversation but not all the gory details—as we would surely mention as we discussed past assignments. I’d told Beryl that I’d desired such a meeting. He’d told me the werewolves didn’t agree.

I can cite a variety of reasons why I don’t like bars, but the biggest is because humanity is at its most stupid when they gather in such places. Not that they aren’t stupid everywhere else. I worked in many a financial institution when I was a “regular” VATE agent and I saw plenty of stupidity in the workplace as well. And humans are stupid at home and when driving, and, well, you get the idea.

But at bars, not only are they stupid but they get drunk and lose their inhibitions, escalating their stupidity to new levels, including chasing after the opposite sex or their own sex, depending upon what type of bar it is. Regardless, their quest for the mating ritual causes them to act like fools to gain the one they lust after and this foolishness heightens their stupidity even more. And, if the bar is crowded, humans act even more stupidly because they’re in a crowd, thus gaining a group stupidity as they all try to act together or apart or in a groupthink of utter stupidity.

All this stupidity causes the sane vampire to wish to be elsewhere. Okay, I know of a vampire who does her job of finding aliens in bars and restaurants, and I pity her every time I hear about it. Crowds, booze, and sex brings out the worst in humanity. And I was about to join them in such a state because of my partner-to-be.

So I was waiting outside for someone who was supposed to be my partner, a someone I didn’t even want to meet, a someone I definitely didn’t want have as my partner in any sort of assignment, let alone this one, which seemed to be especially problematic. The video of the massive vampwolf and its destructive ways haunted my thoughts. Killing it would be hard. Capturing it—especially when my partner wanted to kill it—even harder.

A stocky man about five-eight wearing a black cowboy hat, a plaid red-and-blue shirt, a black leather belt with a large belt buckle, blue jeans, and black leather cowboy boots stopped in front of me. He had shoulder-length brown hair, a bushy beard and mustache, and huge eyebrows. Besides the noticeable hair, he had a big, bulgy nose; ears flat against his head (or so I guessed was beneath his long hair); brown eyes, and pudgy hands with short stubby fingers.

He stared at me. “Samuel Johnson?” he asked.

“Joseph Butler?” I asked back.

“Let’s go inside,” said the werewolf.

I have a bad feeling about this. Little did I know how accurate that feeling would prove to be.

XIII

Catch the Vampwolf

8:50 p.m. Friday

With my pistol filled with silver bullets and pointing at empty air, I stared at Joseph. Since the vampwolf was gone, the werewolf, sword drawn ready to attack me, stared back at me.

“You could have killed it!” Joseph spat.

That wasn’t a known fact, but I certainly could have done more to help the Evil Ones, not that I would admit it. “So?” I said.

“So! So! Damn it, that’s why we’re here, you fool.”

“Fool,” I said slowly. “I’m not the one who the first time we met the beast turned himself into a wolf rather than using a more rational method of attack.”

“Are you saying I’m irrational?”

That question needs no reply. Instead, I said, “And impulsive and explosive and disrespectful—”

“Of a bloodsucker like you? Why shouldn’t I be?” He stepped closer to me.

I slipped my pistol back into its holster and let my hand fall on the hilt of my sword. “Because I said so.”

“Well, you’re a creepy, cold, over-thinking bloodsucker.”

“Your lack of creativity is showing, hairy one.”

He growled.

“If we’d had any decent meeting before tonight to discuss strategy—”

“Last night wasn’t about strategy!” Joseph shook his head disgustedly. “Because we don’t need strategy. We just need courage.”

“Which I’m lacking?” I asked.

“Damn right!”

“I think it’s more obvious who’s lacking intelligence.”

I knew I should have been diplomatic. Beryl had told me, no, ordered me, to be diplomatic. But I didn’t care. Because I was mad at Joseph. Mad at him because he’d wasted my time the night before at the bar; mad at him because whenever we met the vampwolf he wolfed-out to attack whether the move was logical or not; mad at him because whenever we needed to discuss strategy, say about which human group each of us should rescue, he wolfed-out and dashed off before we could talk; mad at him because he didn’t respect me; mad at him because he didn’t listen and mocked me; and, most importantly, mad at him because he was a stupid, impulsive, irrational werewolf.

As he swung his sword at me, I drew mine, and the swords clashed together. Parry. Thrust. Feint. We danced around each other as our swords clashed but neither of us was able to break through the guard of the other. Not bad for a stupid dog. Again, not as though I’d admit it aloud. Joseph’s face became grimmer and angrier the longer the fight continued with neither of us even injuring the other. Our swords slashed at each other. Neither of us sliced his opponent. For a moment, we paused, far enough apart that neither of us could kill the other before the second reacted.

Joseph shoved his sword into its hilt, roared, leaped at me, and in the process, transformed into a wolf. I dissolved into mist, rose toward the ceiling, then solidified into a bat. The wolf leaped up and snapped his jaws. I flew higher as Joseph made repeated attempts to bite and kill me. Reaching an appropriate height, just high enough so the wolf couldn’t leap up and kill me, I flew from the broken escalators to the other end of the food court by one of the mall’s southern exits. That stupid wolf followed me all the way.

And this is getting us nowhere. I knew what I had to do.

Keeping track of the wolfy Joseph with my bat radar, I again flew back to the broken escalators with the wolf tailing me, and occasionally leaping up and snapping at me. And back to the southern entrance with my flight pattern getting closer to the floor, not too much closer, maybe about six inches. Then back to the escalators, dropping another six inches, knowing the wolf was mere seconds behind me. And back to the southern entrance, dropping still lower. During this last trip, I noticed Joseph merely dashing after me. The dog in him had taken over, and he was enjoying the dashes back and forth between the escalators and the entrance. As I flew back toward the entrance, I slowed and dropped almost right above the wolf.

And I grew to my human form to land on the huge wolf’s back. My legs wrapped around him as one hand tightly gripped his fur and the other pummeled the top of his head. His large jaws and sharp teeth snapped harmlessly at me because of my position on his back. He jumped. He twisted. He snapped. He howled. All as I continued beating his head.

He stopped for a moment then rolled on his back, crushing me against the floor. As he rolled back and forth on his back, I heard my bones crack and felt blood flow. Enough of this! With my free hand, I yanked my pistol from its holster and fired into Joseph’s back. The wolf howled.

Then shrank into human form, escaping my grasp. He turned, slapped the pistol from my hand then dropped on me and began punching my face. I balled my hands into fists and slammed them against his chest, knocking him to the floor. Rolling on top of him, I punched his face repeatedly until he kicked me in the groin.

I rolled to the floor in pain, what with my broken ribs and bloody face. From where I lay, I gazed at Joseph with his own bloody face and bleeding wounds from my gunshots.

Then the two of us began to laugh—an hysterical, insane laughter with touches of humor sprinkled in. As our laughter died, we gazed at each other.

“You know,” said Joseph, “you’re not a bad guy for a leech.”

“You’re not a bad guy for a dog.”

Again we laughed. Because in our huge fight, we’d bonded and become friends. And with this bond, we’d take care of the vampwolf and have many adventures in the future.

Or that would have happened if this tale was your classic 1980s mismatched partners’ movie. But it’s not, so it didn’t. Because this was real life.

Besides, we would have been stupid to let it happen. If we’d been lying there, each beaten to the pulp by the other, the vampwolf could have appeared, smashed in Joseph’s skull—not quite as easy as a silver bullet to the heart but still highly effective—and beheaded me. And that would have been the end of our assignment, what with both of us dead and all, and I wouldn’t be writing this narrative for the edification of my readers.

Here’s what really happened:

With my pistol filled with its silver bullets and pointing at empty air, I stared at Joseph. Since the vampwolf was gone, the werewolf, sword drawn ready to attack me, stared back at me.

“You could have killed it!” Joseph spat.

“Well,” I replied hesitantly. Maybe that’s why I didn’t fire because I didn’t believe I could kill it. I shrugged. My lack of action puzzled even me.

“But you should have at least helped out your friends!” the werewolf exclaimed.

“If they’d been my friends,” I responded. “They were Evil Ones. You know that. Not that I liked the vampwolf killing them so fast, but it’s not as though they would have helped us.”

“But—”

I shoved my pistol into its holster. There’s no point in continuing this conversation. “So how did your rescue of the humans go?”

Joseph stared at me silently. His forehead wrinkled in puzzlement.

“Mine could have gone better,” I said, disregarding the fact that my partner hadn’t answered. I told him about my discovery of the kids, finding Tommy, the twin brother of Timmy, the reluctance of the girls, Arya’s crush on Tommy, our departure from the toy store, our trip through the department store and the sight of who I believed to be Max dashing off toward where we eventually saw the beast, and the kids’ departure from the mall. As I told my tale, Joseph put his sword back in its scabbard and listened thoughtfully.

“None of them was likely the vampwolf either,” Joseph said.

Little kids do not a vampwolf make. “No, but we have another clue pointing toward Max.”

The werewolf rolled his eyes. “Wish it were that easy.”

“So you think it might be somebody else?” I asked. Okay, that was an obvious question based on what Joseph had just said. I avoid stupid questions—and statements for that matter—as much as possible, but, maybe because I was working with a werewolf, maybe because the evening was seeming a bit long, or maybe because I’d recently rescued some stupid kids, I’d certainly posed one right there.

Joseph smirked. “I’ll tell you about my latest rescue of humans and you decide.” Then he shook his head sadly. I wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but withheld it remembering that Beryl expected me to be the mature one.

The werewolf told how he’d returned to the cineplex (damn! I really wanted him to rescue the people in the restroom!) to find the humans in the smaller theater. This group was an even broader range of ages than the prior group. He’d discovered an older couple (sounded similar to the ones I’d rescued from the kitchen supply store); four teenage girls; a middle-aged couple with two young kids; a middle-aged mother with her daughter in her twenties; and a tall, broad-shouldered, blond-haired young man wearing a red-and-yellow Iowa State University t-shirt, red athletic shorts, and athletic shoes.

Joseph had introduced himself and all, including the young man, introduced themselves. Before the werewolf could ask, the older couple told how most of the movie patrons were leaving the theater, but the young man named Matthew had herded this group into this theater with talk of monsters rampaging through the mall. Repeatedly, he left the theater, often for up to five or ten minutes, then returned to report about the incidents.

The werewolf had remarked on his courage. Although he made that remark, he was suspicious, so he approached Matthew and asked if he had a brother named Max. Matthew said yes, and that Max went to U of I while he went to ISU. Their attending different universities seemed to be based more on a sibling rivalry that was especially heated due to their being twins. (Talk of this reminded me of two other twins.)

Joseph made a mental note to remember this information, then told the humans they would be safe in leaving. All of them left the theater together and walked down the winding hall to the main part of the cineplex with a large concession stand and an arcade off to one side. This walk took much longer than the werewolf wanted because the old couple hobbled along at a tremendously slow pace, and the teenage girls were more interested in their discussions about boys and girls and who liked whom than getting out of the mall any time very soon.

As the humans and Joseph passed by the huge concession stand, Matthew took off at a run. He dashed out of the cineplex, past the doors to leave the mall and toward the food court. Joseph sprinted after him. Although Joseph knew he could run faster than the large young man, he didn’t dare do so because he didn’t want to show his superhuman abilities to the other humans. He chased Matthew through the food court and to the hall leading to the broken escalators. As Matthew darted out of sight on the eastern second floor, the werewolf gave up and returned to the other humans to escort them out of the mall.

Again, getting them from the concession stand to the doors to leave the mall took far longer than Joseph imagined it should. The humans didn’t hurry until the vampwolf appeared and began fighting the vampires. Even then, another three or four minutes went by before the older couple and the teenage girls left the mall and had walked far enough away so Joseph felt wolfing-out would be safe.

“So I think the vampwolf could be either Matthew or Max,” Joseph concluded.

Sound reasoning even for a werewolf. “I see how you could argue either case,” I said. Given our intellectual capabilities, we vampires can argue well either side of most major issues in American society today. Not that we’d want to, but we could. Thus, I could see the case that either Matthew or Max could be the beast; however, I also saw who it must be. “If you combine your story with mine and with what I saw after I rescued the humans from the kitchen supply store, I think we must conclude the vampwolf is Max.”

“Really?” Joseph didn’t hide his sarcasm well.

I withheld a snort. “Really. Before I saw the vampwolf the second time, I saw Max running west on the second floor. And the vampwolf came from the west that time. Before we saw the vampwolf this time, you saw Matthew running east and that’s probably where he still is, hiding in a store somewhere east of us. I saw Max running east, toward the center of the mall where we saw the vampwolf massacre those vampires. Based on that information, assuming it’s Max is only logical.”

My partner growled. “Okay. So what if we know that?”

Stupid, stupid question. “Of course we’re going to capture him in human form.” When Joseph didn’t respond, I continued, “I don’t know how we’ve survived our last two encounters, but after seeing the beast kill four vampires and barely get wounded, obviously we can’t capture it in wolf form.”

“But we want to kill it.”

Your boss might. I have to look out for the interests of mine. So I said, “Our bosses might like it if we learn a bit about it before we kill it.”

Joseph gave me a puzzled look, then shrugged. “Yeah, it should be easier to kill if we capture it in human form.” Then he smiled. “And this time I got a good whiff of Matthew. I didn’t with Max because I didn’t suspect him then.”

I stared at him. I failed to see the significance of this point.

My partner sighed. “That means I can use scent to detect both of them. They’re twins, so they’ll smell a lot alike. If I can find Matthew’s scent, I’ll ignore it, but if I find a scent like it yet not the same, I’ll know it’s Max.”

I nodded in agreement. “Good enough.” I snapped my fingers. “But, before we find Max, we need to be prepared for when we capture him.”

Joseph stared at me quizzically. I sighed, ignored his blank look, and dashed down the stairs to our packs close to the remains of a wooden kiosk. I opened mine, pulled out two silver chains, then jogged back upstairs. When my partner saw me, he smiled. “That should work.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Did you get one from my pack?”

“No, both from mine.”

“I’ve got two as well. We could use one of mine.”

“We could.” I said. “Do we want to discuss our weapons or catch this vampwolf?”

Joseph rolled his eyes. “Okay, whatever’s best for the humans.” He sniffed the air in all directions.

As my partner was doing his werewolf best, I decided to do some checking on my own. Okay, I didn’t exactly trust his being able to properly sniff out Max. I knew if I used my mind powers, I could certainly find the vampwolf, regardless of whether it was human or wolf.

I closed my eyes and let darkness fill my mind. As before, I let my mind and the darkness expand, this time only in the direction of the northwestern department store. Immediately, I felt the fiery sphere that was Joseph’s mind, then nothing on both the first and second floors of the mall. Maybe some of the lone humans have fled the mall. As my mind expanded and spread throughout the mall, I felt it was like water filling the northwestern part of the mall from the broken escalators through the northwestern department store. Then I saw it. On the second floor of the department store. The dark, flaming-hot mind of what I guessed to be the vampwolf. I let my mind contract back into my body and opened my eyes.

To see Joseph’s forehead wrinkled. A thought must have passed through his head because he shrugged. Then wolfed-out yet again in front of my eyes. Fur grew. Fingers on hands melded together to become paws. Arms and legs narrowed and grew fur. From his face erupted a muzzle, sharp teeth, fur, and pointy ears. The huge wolf sat next to me. It also sniffed the air in all directions, then his body shrank back into human form.

“I got his scent.” He pointed toward the western part of the mall. “He’s in that direction and my guess is he’s hiding in the northwestern department store.”

“You guess?” I asked.

He stared at me. “Going by scent isn’t an exact science. But all we need is a direction, then we can get over there, hunt him, and kill—”

“Capture,” I corrected.

Joseph growled. “And capture him.”

Now the alert reader may remember that the first time I let my mind spread throughout the mall I only momentarily (if that) sensed the mind of the vampwolf. I thought it strange that I was able to detect it so easily this time, since, after all, I hadn’t the first time. But I could explain that away. The vampwolf was tired. The vampwolf was scared. I’d gotten more comfortable in this situation so my mind was working better. Didn’t matter. Capturing the vampwolf did.

As these thoughts passed through my mind, I tossed Joseph one of the chains that he caught adroitly. For a moment, the two of us stood there. Although we’d fought the vampwolf at the same time, it hadn’t been a coordinated affair —because of Joseph’s impulsive werewolf ways. This idea of capturing Max was our first cooperative effort and neither of us knew quite how to act. Then, at the same time, we sprinted to the front of the western department store.

We stared at each other. Do we think alike? The thought was abhorrent to me. Sometimes people forced to work together find they have similar thoughts and plans in spite of their inherent differences. That had to be the case with us.

Not wanting to alert Max, that big blond male wearing his U of I t-shirt, hiding in the midst of the racks of sundresses, I pointed at myself then motioned that I would go around behind our prey. Joseph nodded, and I swear, his teeth grew sharp in front of my eyes. I shook my head and the human Joseph, with his regular teeth, reappeared.

I left the werewolf and walked down the main aisle of the store leading to the escalators. Walking into the aisle parallel to the store’s entrance and behind the assorted women’s clothing, I saw Joseph already crouched behind the clothing racks at the front of the store. Behind me in the middle of the store I thought I heard a young boy’s laughter.

Ignoring it, I strode into the racks of women’s clothing and said loudly, “Max, I know you’re here. We’re security guards and need to see you now.”

The huge, bulky, blond college student stood and charged through the racks of clothing, knocking down some of the smaller ones. I followed, although with my vampire reflexes, I was able to dodge through the same racks of clothing without hitting any. Max emerged from the racks of clothing only to be tackled by Joseph. A few moments later, I broke through the forest of garments to find the werewolf using one hand to hold both of the college student’s hands behind the young man’s back while his other hand wrapped the silver chain around the student’s wrists.

“Think you can hold him?” Joseph asked.

“It looks like you’re doing fine.” He was, too.

The werewolf growled as he completed tying Max’s hands together with the silver chain. Finished binding our captive, Joseph yanked his pistol from his holster. Our captive, eyes wide with fright, gazed back and forth at us over his shoulder.

“Now, I’ll—”

“Don’t,” I ordered.

Joseph bared his teeth.

“If Max were a normal vampwolf,” I continued, “he would have wolfed-out last weekend and been wolfed-out until he burned out and died. And it’s strange he didn’t wolf-out as we tried to catch him. Something more is going on here and the best way to discover what is to question Max.”

“So—”

“Let’s take him back to the broken escalators and elevator, tie him up there and question him. That way, if we’re called away, at least he’s centrally located.”

Joseph narrowed his eyes at me, then shrugged. “I guess. But, if he does anything suspicious—”

I nodded. “I understand.”

My partner smiled, then shoved Max forward. The three of us walked toward the center of the mall with Max in front, me at his side and Joseph behind him.

Hearing our conversation subside, our captive spoke up. “I’ll be happy to tell you whatever you want, and I’m sorry about whatever I did because I didn’t mean to do it—”

Is he talking about being a vampwolf?

Joseph glanced at me.

I mouthed the words, “Stupid human.”

He mouthed back, “Dangerous vampwolf.”

Max, unaware of our mouthed conversation, continued, reminding me a bit of Arya, “My brother, Matthew, is also in the mall. At least he was before that monster showed up. He goes to ISU and I go to U of I. We’re both on our football teams. At the Iowa/Iowa State game, we always joke it’s the Booker brothers face-off. Not that we want our faces off like in the movie. We don’t even drink much—”

Again, I exchanged glances with my partner. We’d passed by the teddy bear store and the three stores next to it.

I mouthed, “He’s scared.”

Joseph returned, “Duh.”

“I wish I was in Iowa City right now,” Max continued. “Did you know there was a monster in the mall earlier tonight? I wanted to get out of the mall, but for some reason, I keep staying.” His head motioned back at Joseph. “Officer Butler wanted me to leave, but I ran back into the mall. I don’t know why. Really. Because I saw that beast. It’s huge. It’s scary. It wrecked so much of the mall—”

I mouthed, “Think he’s telling the truth?”

Joseph mouthed in return, “No way. He’s it. But he tells good lies.”

We walked by the bookstore where the Evil Ones had once hidden.

“Matthew and I thought meeting here in West Des Moines would be great so we could hang out at this mall and maybe catch a movie. That’s what we were planning to do when the monster began its attack. People yelled and screamed and ran in all directions, but mostly out of the mall. Matthew and I didn’t. But we got separated anyway. I hid in a theater in the cineplex and I kept going out and looking for Matt, but I never found him. Do you know if he’s still alive? That monster might have eaten him—”

“He’s alive,” Joseph said calmly.

“Oh, thank God, I was so worried. We’re twins, after all—”

We finally reached the center of the mall and walked to the railing along of the edge of the second floor across from a coffee shop and behind the broken elevator.

Joseph mouthed, “Here’s more of his work,”

I simply nodded.

On the other side of the elevator were the broken escalators and the staircase. Joseph unwrapped the chain from around Max’s wrists then ordered the student to kneel in front of the metal railing with his arms in either direction along the top of the railing. The werewolf held Max’s arms in place as I wrapped a silver chain around his right wrist then his left.

I stood back to admire my handiwork, and Joseph stepped back next to me. His hand fell to his pistol.

“Ask your questions. The sooner we kill—”

Both of our cell phones rang. We both answered but I walked a few feet away so I could talk in private. Because I knew who was calling me.

“Samuel here.”

“This is Beryl. What’s your status?”

I quickly updated him since our last talk: meeting with the Evil Ones, rescuing the first group of humans, our second fight with the vampwolf, meeting with the Wild Ones, rescuing the second group of humans, watching the vampwolf kill all the Evil Ones, and capturing Max.

He sighed on the other end of the line. “Your time hasn’t been totally wasted.”

Thanks for the encouragement, Boss. But I said nothing.

Beryl continued, “It’s strange that the vampwolf has stayed around as long as it has—”

“We’ll have some answers once we talk to Max—”

“That’s not your top priority,” my chapter leader interrupted. “We’ve been keeping the police out as long as we can, but we don’t think we can much longer.”

And I care because?

“So we…that is, Joseph’s pack leader and I, thought it best if you get the last two groups of humans out—”

“But—”

“At least some police will be entering the mall in around fifteen minutes, and we want as many civilians out as possible. Some loners have been leaving as the large groups have. It’s best to have as many out as possible before the police enter.”

“But we have the vampwolf in human form—”

“Do you know for a fact that it’s the vampwolf?”

Okay, we don’t. I sighed. “All the clues point to him, and if—”

“And you’ve got him well tied up, too, at least according to you—” Sometimes I wished I was less honest. “So get those last two large groups of the humans out of the mall.”

I didn’t respond. I don’t think that’s the best use of our time.

“That’s an order.”

And the line went dead.

I turned and took a few steps closer to Max. Joseph put away his phone and did the same.

“Your boss?” I asked.

“Yeah, yours?”

I nodded.

“Wants us to get the last large groups of humans out?” the werewolf asked.

I nodded again.

We both looked regretfully at Max, tied up with silver chains. And against our own better judgments, we knew what we had to do.

XIV

The Problem with Mirrors

“I’ll take the restroom by the food court,” Joseph said.

“And I’ll—”

Before I could finish, Joseph turned and sprinted toward his designated restroom.

“He doesn’t always listen to you,” Max observed.

I snorted, walked to the staircase, loped down it, taking two steps at a time, and sprinted to the men’s restroom between the sporting goods store and the central elevator, escalators and staircase.

So, despite anything I tried to plan, I still had to rescue a group of humans in a restroom and deal with my vampire problem with mirrors.

Because, as my vampire readers know, we of our race have a special problem with mirrors. We don’t appear in them. We don’t have a reflection. Although we as a race have adapted to this fact, we also know that this lack of appearance in mirrors can give us away to our human kindred. That was one of the reasons why, when I infiltrated offices seeking to find aliens, I never used the restroom. It would be bad, after relieving yourself, to be washing your hands with a human also washing his hands and he looks in the mirror and only sees his reflection. One of two courses of action are immediately needed: mind control or death—that is, of the human. We Protectors prefer the first because it saves a human life, for what that’s worth, and isn’t another murder we need to keep unsolved. In my times of dealing with humans, I’ve resorted to both courses of action although more of the former than the latter.

The simplest solution to the “no reflection” dilemma is to not use restrooms, which, thanks to our different type of digestive system and metabolism, works quite well for us. In general, we only have to “relieve ourselves” in that way only a few times a year. So avoidance is the best strategy.

Except, of course, in my present situation where I had to enter the restroom to get the people out and I really didn’t want to use mind control to erase the fact that I didn’t have a reflection from the minds of all of these people. Although I’d drunk that gallon of blood earlier in the day, each superhuman feat I performed drained my energy a little bit more. Since we hadn’t successfully captured or killed the vampwolf—okay, yes, we had Max but we hadn’t time to determine conclusively that he was the vampwolf in human form—and if Max was the vampwolf, our being drawn away gave him the chance to escape, wolf-out again and attack Joseph and me. Therefore, a good possibility existed that I’d need more energy before the evening was out. And, if I used mind control on all of these people in the restroom, that could impair my battle skills later on. Besides in my last two rescues, I’d been forced to use mind control despite my diplomatic attempts not to. So I was going to avoid that tactic if at all possible.

I walked down the narrow hallway with the cell phone store on one side and the candy store on the other. At the end of this hallway on the left side was the women’s restroom, on the right side, the men’s restroom and a drinking fountain. The hall itself was a dead-end. I opened the door and entered the restroom.

A room that was almost two separate rooms. About a yard in front of the door through which I’d entered was a wall that divided the space nearly in two. On the right side of this wall and along this dividing wall was a counter adorned with three sinks with faucets, and soap dispensers, and mirrors covering the upper portion of the wall. Along the right wall of this space were air hand dryers, paper towel dispensers, and a trash can in the right-hand corner of the room not far from where I was standing. The trash can was almost overflowing with used paper towels.

On the left side of the dividing wall was the area that gave this room its purpose. Along the right wall of this portion of the room were four urinals without privacy walls between. Four stalls surrounded by partial walls, beginning about eight inches above the floor and ending about six feet above the floor were on the left wall, and these three were parallel to the urinals on the dividing wall. The stalls were currently not in use although the doors were closed.

Understanding the geography of this room and knowing I shouldn’t advance too far into the right portion of the room because of the mirror wall above the sinks were important facts, but the people in the room occupied my mind to a much greater extent. And many people there were. In the right portion of the room, sitting in the middle of the room was a man in his thirties and two young girls, one five, the other perhaps three, sitting on either side of him. All three wore t-shirts and shorts. Leaning against the back wall was a couple in their sixties; he wearing a plaid shirt and colorful Bermuda shorts, she a plaid shirt and blue slacks. They leaned against the back wall with their eyes closed and could have been sleeping.

In the left portion of the room, leaning against the back wall between the stalls and the urinals were three teenage girls, between fourteen and seventeen years old, and all wearing multicolored capris and tank tops with button-down shirts over them. Although the three girls could have been chattering away furiously about the events at the mall, or talking about their friends beyond the mall, or complaining about being stuck in a men’s restroom, all three sat silently gazing at their cell phones as they texted or received texts or updated their Facebook pages or surfed the Internet. Sitting in the center of this portion of the room was a woman in her forties and a boy I guessed to be her teenage son. These two also played with their cell phones, but the teenage boy with his glasses and face decorated by too many pimples, often looked, or more likely glanced not wanting to be noticed, at the three slim, attractive, teenage girls. Ah, young lust.

And none of them had noticed my entrance. Not a single one looked up. Nor did the older couple’s eyes open. They must be used to it here. Well, that has to stop.

“Hello, folks,” I said loudly. “I’m Officer Samuel Johnson and I’m here to escort you out of the mall.”

The man with his two little girls hopped up and was at my side in seconds. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Carl and these are my two daughters—Michelle…” The older one waved at me. “And Kristina.” The younger one hid behind her father’s legs.

The woman with the teenage son walked up behind Carl and his daughters. “It’s about time somebody came. I’m Helen.” She paused as she noticed her son dawdling behind her to surreptitiously gaze at the teenage girls, who glanced up at me before resuming their work on their phones. “And this is Eric.”

“I’m so glad someone finally found us,” Carl said happily. “I was worried we might have to spend the night here.”

“Yucky,” added Michelle.

“Is it safe now?” asked Helen.

I snorted. “Of course it is,” I lied. “I wouldn’t be finding stragglers to bring out if it wasn’t.”

Both Carl and Helen sighed in relief.

With eyes wide open, the older couple approached me timidly. “We’re so glad you came,” said the woman. “I’m Selma Bryant and this is Michael.”

Eric gazed around worriedly as the three teenage girls stood and sauntered my way.

“You said stragglers,” Helen said. “So is almost everyone out of the mall?”

I smiled. Now here’s a smart human. “Yes. The police wanted another security guard and me to find any people remaining in the mall after the attack and escort them out.”

“And the creature is gone?” Carl asked.

“I wouldn’t lead you out if I thought there was any danger,” I lied. Not as though it was a complete lie like my prior one to Helen. With the other two groups I’d escorted out, we hadn’t seen the vampwolf, so in all likelihood, and especially since we had Max in chains, I’d be able to lead these people out safely, too.

Unless, of course, Max wasn’t the beast and possibly even one of these people was. One of them could wolf-out and kill us all — well, I’d probably escape. With that thought, I knew I should check this group out better.

“It’s about time,” said the blonde teenage girl.

“Yeah, this ruined our time at the mall,” her redhead friend added.

The third teenage girl, who was a brunette, didn’t even look up from her phone.

I raised my eyebrows and gave them a quizzical look.

The blonde teenage girl sighed. “Okay, whatever. I’m Bridget.” She motioned at the redhead. “She’s Jessica.”

“Hi,” said Jessica.

Bridget motioned at the brunette. “And she’s Casey.” Casey gave me a casual wave then resumed playing with her phone.

“But we’d have all been killed if it weren’t for this young man,” Michael said, patting Carl on the shoulder.

“That’s right,” piped up Helen. She shoulder-hugged her son. “Eric here was, well, using the facilities, and I was waiting outside—”

“Both of us were too,” interrupted Selma.

“We weren’t,” Bridget said.

“Yeah, like we’d ever,” Jessica added.

Casey sighed.

“I was going to take my girls…” Carl shrugged. “Well, you know.”

“Then we saw it,” said Michelle.

Kristina gave her bit, too. “It was really big. Really, really big.”

“And she screamed,” Michelle continued.

“So’d they,” Kristina said, pointing at the three teenage girls. Bridget smirked. Jessica shrugged. Casey acted as if she hadn’t heard a thing.

“That’s why I rounded these people up and got them in here,” Carl concluded.

“Interesting,” I said, just so it sounded as if I cared about this discussion. “Did any of you leave after you hid here?”

Eric twisted up his face. “That’d be stupid.”

“He’s right,” Carl said. “If we were hiding from the creature, why would we leave again so it could harm us?”

Now that comment really is interesting, I thought, considering in each of the last four groups we’d rescued at least one person had been going out of hiding to check out conditions for the others. And I know which group was the smartest.

With a pause in our conversation, Eric said, “Hey, why do you have a sword?”

Carl stared at my sword as well. “Yeah, why do you? Most security guards don’t.”

“You’re the first one I ever saw,” said Bridget, “and I go to a lot of malls.”

I bet you do. I smiled. “I’m a special security guard.” I glanced around but none of the humans seemed suspicious at that answer, so I continued, “When terrible creatures threaten people in a mall, guards like me are called.” Surprisingly, that was almost an honest explanation.

“Whatever you say, young man,” said Michael.

The rest seemed content with the answer as well.

I could have checked to make sure everyone had been relieved appropriately. They were humans, after all. Then I decided not to. If they hadn’t done so after spending so much time in this restroom, it was their own stupid fault.

“Let’s go,” I said.

And left the restroom followed by all the humans who’d stayed there far longer than I would have. Carl and his daughters were directly behind me, followed by Michael and Selma, then the three teenage girls, and last Helen and Eric. We walked down the narrow hallway and into the main part of the mall with its destroyed kiosks.

“These weren’t damaged when we fled,” Carl said.

So they escaped early in the vampwolf’s rampage. I shrugged. “That’s what insurance is for.” Okay, that didn’t really address the point Carl was making, but I felt I should say something.

“But does it cover destruction by a giant hairy beast?” asked Carl.

Good point. Although I’d worked in many property-casualty insurance companies, I wasn’t sure. Of course, it might depend on the type of policy. If the policy covered all perils except those excluded, these folks probably had coverage because it wasn’t like a policy would exclude damage caused by a vampwolf. But if it was a policy that only covered perils mentioned in its wording, then it would definitely be excluded, again because policies don’t list a peril for damage caused by a vampwolf. Ah, so many businesses would change if Joseph and I and both our kinds made ourselves known to the world.

As we passed the rest of the destroyed kiosks and the openings to stores that were still relatively unharmed, nobody spoke much. Michelle and Kristina skipped along, happy to be free of the restroom. The three teenage girls were again busy with their cell phones and only looked up to make sure they didn’t trip over any debris or bump into anyone else in our group. Eric seemed to want to hide but couldn’t do so, and seeing that nobody appeared to care, pulled out his cell phone and began texting like his female counterparts.

And in that way we proceeded to the center part of the mall with its broken escalators and elevator and still working staircase. I gazed up trying to see Max, but the broken elevator blocked him from sight. In any case, from the center of the mall I led my group to the nearest exit where my first group had also exited the mall.

“Thank you, young man, for escorting us out,” said Selma.

“Are you coming with us?” asked Helen.

“Not yet. My partner and I have a bit of unfinished business.”

The group seemed to accept that answer. We exchanged good-byes; I said I hoped this incident wouldn’t keep them from returning to this mall. Most said it wouldn’t, but Bridget expressed doubt, Jessica said she’d ask her parents, and Casey shrugged. And then my group left the mall through the double set of glass doors.

I turned away from the doors and walked to where Joseph’s and my backpacks sat by the ruins of the kiosk about fifteen feet from the staircase. At least the vampwolf didn’t attack me this time. Of course, I’d survived that previous encounter, but this part of the mall still had unpleasant memories. To think I was saved by Evil Ones. Or, even worse, by Joseph’s arrival.

I stood and exulted in the silence, well, except for the omnipresent music that was pumped through the mall. You would think at the time of such a great disaster in the mall, the mall people would shut off the stupid music. But if you would think that, you’d be wrong.

From the western department store, I heard a loud, deep howl. The vampwolf! From the eastern department store, I head a second loud, deep howl The vampwolf? Because of the slant in the mall, both department store entrances were out of my line of sight, but with the two different howls, I could draw only one logical conclusion.

XV

Vampwolf Surprise

There are two of them!

Down the stairs a huge wolf loped, taking four to five steps at a time. As the wolf skidded to a stop beside me, he shrank into human form and stood next to me.

Again a loud, deep howl echoed west of us. Then another to the east.

“There’s two of them?” asked Joseph.

“It certainly sounds like it,” I said.

And options of what we could do began forming in my mind:

1. Flee. This option seemed sounder than in any of our previous encounters because, after all, there were two of them. We’d had a hard enough time trying to fight one of them. No honor would be lost in not fighting. Besides, Joseph and I had agreed to deal with one vampwolf, not two. Of course, the possibility that either of us would flee from danger in the sight of the other was extremely small.

2. Fight one vampwolf together. Although in our previous encounters with a vampwolf that hadn’t proven too successfully, this time might be different. With my sword and Joseph in wolf form, perhaps we could kill, or at least wound, one vampwolf before the other tromped the length of the mall to attack us.

3. Fight one vampwolf together by shooting silver bullets into its arms and legs or heart, if necessary. Granted, merely a variation on option 3 but perhaps not fighting hand-to-hand would help Joseph and me keep from being so beat up by the beast. Of course, this option was also pointless because odds were Joseph would transform into a wolf before our fight began.

4. Each of us fight a different vampwolf. An interesting idea. Although also very stupid because. if four vampires couldn’t take down one vampwolf, how could either of us separately think we could? Before attempting this option, I’d want to discuss it with my partner.

5. Go upstairs and see if Max was still chained up. This option could go with most of the other options because we could check him out before engaging either or both of the vampwolves. If we found him still chained up, that would be proof he wasn’t a vampwolf. If he was gone, he could be.

6. Call our bosses, tell them of this development and ask for more help or request to be relieved of duty. I don’t know Joseph’s position on this matter (nor did I learn it during the rest of the evening), but I would rather flee than call my boss and ask for permission to do so.

Before I could turn and ask my partner which option he thought was best, he leaped into the air, transformed into a wolf, and dashed westward in the mall, leaving me alone yet again.

Fine. I stared after him. If he’s not going to ask for my help, I’m not going to give it. Option 4 it is.

Okay, this was probably stupid thinking on my part, but I was tired of Joseph and his irrational ways. I turned and sprinted toward the east end of the mall, past the busted car, the broken kiosks, and the narrow hall leading to the restrooms, and toward the children’s play area with its broken and jumbled plastic animals and bridges. A hunk of a broken couch flew at me, but I dodged to one side as it clattered against the mall floor.

Reaching the eastern side of the children’s play area, I stopped and stared at the huge mass of fur, claws, and teeth. The vampwolf stared back at me, howled at the ceiling, and growled at me. We gazed into each others’ eyes: it into my green eyes, me into its blue ones.

Then I drew my pistol and fired at its arms and legs. I knew I could probably kill it by firing the silver bullets into its heart, but my goal was to wound it. Silver bullets in its elbows and knees should do the trick nicely. One shot, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Two at an elbow, two at another elbow, two at a knee, two at another knee. The vampwolf just stood there. And watched. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. The beast shook itself as if it had been swimming in some water. Both of us heard the clatter of small metal pellets against the floor. The beast laughed.

I looked at my pistol. Looked at the vampwolf. Damn. It’s got too much fur and skin. The bullets didn’t harm it at all.

The vampwolf roared and charged toward me. I’d been in this scenario before when I’d been trapped close to the double set of exit doors. That time I couldn’t easily flee in my human form. But this time I could. And I did.

I turned and dashed toward the center of the mall as I heard the loud stomps of the vampwolf’s huge feet and clicking of its long claws behind me. As I knew from my prior encounter with the beast, it might be large but that didn’t decrease its speed one bit. I dashed around the smashed-up play area with its broken slides, bridges and tunnels. Although the vampwolf had started close to the entrance of the eastern department store, it had raced to the destroyed kiddy rides by the time I’d rounded the play area. It didn’t bother going around the area. It smashed right through, wreaking even more havoc within the area and again breaking the plastic walls surrounding it—or so I surmised with a quick glance over my shoulder. I was sprinting as fast as I could, so the beast’s progress was only one of my concerns.

Joseph will think I’m a coward. I snorted. Sometimes a retreat can be the best strategy. Especially if you live and the courageous ones die.

I dashed by the broken kiosks, the narrow hall leading to the restrooms, more broken kiosks and toward the ruined car. Then I saw in front of me my partner, now in human form, running as fast toward me as I was towards him. Only a few feet behind him was the western vampwolf. At the same time, both of us entered the open area marred only by a few broken kiosks in front of the broken elevator and escalators. I wasn’t sure if Joseph saw me. I wanted to wave, speak, wink, or give him some clue that I saw him and knew he was in as much trouble as I was. But the loud stomping and clicking of the vampwolf mere seconds behind me was my greater concern.

We sprinted toward each other and passed each other as the vampwolf in front of me skidded to a stop. I didn’t. I kept running and jumped on the western vampwolf’s right shoulder, turned around, barely keeping my balance, and faced the eastern vampwolf. That had Joseph on its right shoulder.

Sometimes we really do think alike.

I might have found that idea entertaining or at the very least amusing or ironic if the eastern vampwolf wasn’t swinging a huge hand with its long sharp claws at me as the western was doing likewise toward Joseph. Almost as if we were connected by strings, both the werewolf and I hopped over the heads of our respective vampwolves to land on their opposite shoulders, so their hands, instead of hitting either of us, each smacked into the head of the opposing beast.

The eastern vampwolf swung its other paw toward me. The western vampwolf didn’t swing in kind. Instead, it knocked away the other beast’s hand. I hoped I interpreted these beasts correctly because I jumped from the vampwolf’s shoulder behind it and rolled northward on the floor. Joseph jumped off the other vampwolf and rolled southward toward the staircase.

The two huge beasts stared at each other. The eastern one shoved the western one. The western one shoved back. They both growled at each other then howled at the ceiling. Hands and claws hit and cut each other, with only a few blows making it beyond the flurry of fur and claws. Both had bloody faces and cuts on their hairy chests.

They can hurt each other.

The western vampwolf pounced on the eastern one and the two rolled around the floor, punching and scratching each other, growling and howling. I ducked for cover in a nearby store and saw Joseph climb higher on the stairs.

Then the two beasts stopped fighting. Both looked up in the air as if a voice from on high was speaking to them. Immediately, as if on command, both dissolved into clouds of mist that disappeared before I could see where they were going.

I exited the store while Joseph walked down the stairs. We met where our backpacks sat next to a pile of wood that had been a kiosk.

“That didn’t go well,” he said.

“No,” I said. “That went very well.” Because, if the vampwolves had cooperated, we’d be dead right now.

XVI

In the Bar

9:15 p.m. Thursday

Joseph and I walked into the bar where the deafeningly loud music shook its outer walls. People filled the place. The worst of humanity—okay, that is relatively speaking since Americans in many ways are more civilized than the humanity in other countries, though Americans in bars, especially dance clubs that are also pick-up joints, aren’t that much better than their counterparts in, say, Russia or Mexico—gathered together to drink too much, attempt to rut with the opposite or same sex, or to dance as mindless automatons. I feared my companion might do all three.

Masses of people crowded the bar. Some groups gathered around tables too small for their group. Men and women jostled each other around pool tables adorned with partially full beer mugs. Women, mostly those dressed in cowboy apparel, and a very few men, performed line dances on the dance floor under a blinding strobe light that flashed clear, red, blue, green, and gold. Dodging and weaving among these crowds were barmaids in tight plaid shirts and tight blue jean shorts, holding trays of full beer mugs above the fray only to be rewarded with small tips and pinched bottoms.

Ah, humanity, thy name is stupidity.

My companion was as adept, if not more so, than the barmaids at slipping through the crowd. It was almost as if he could see the actions and movements of humans before they were done, so he could turn or duck or twist or step before colliding with the other person. I also felt he could see a map of the inside of the bar, thus showing him the path he should take to lead us to whatever destination he seemed to have in mind. Since I was following him, I moved in a rather mindless trance, perhaps the best way to cope with all these obnoxious humans, and because of this mindless state, I more than once stepped on someone or bumped into someone else. Not a pleasant experience. And a humiliating one for a vampire such as myself.

In only a few minutes, the werewolf had led us to an empty table, a feat because, when entering the bar, I didn’t believe any were to be had, and because, even if I’d thought some were available, in this mass of humanity, I didn’t think I would see them, or perhaps this lone empty one. The werewolf brought us to a small round table with three tall bar chairs around it. I sat in one with the idea that Joseph would join me and we’d begin strategizing for our possible encounter with the vampwolf.

But the werewolf didn’t sit. Instead, he shouted, “What do you want to drink?”

“I don’t need anything before our discussion,” I shouted back.

Joseph shouted again, “What do you want to drink?”

It was as if I hadn’t spoken. Okay I’ll play along. “A Pepsi.”

“Will a Coke do?”

I shrugged. “Whatever.”

And with that, my companion dove back into the fray.

I remained sitting at the table and quite miserably at that. It’s not as though I haven’t dealt with humans a great deal in my life. I have. While I was a “regular” VATE agent, I infiltrated many a financial institution in pursuit of aliens bent on the destruction of said institution. But sitting in a cube or office surrounded by humans sitting in theirs was much different from sitting at a table in a bar with humans less than a foot away and others constantly passing by and others attempting to shout above the din of the horrible country music—I’m not a fan if you haven’t already guessed.

At one table close by, some men in their twenties were playing a drinking game. Each made a series of hand signals or raised his eyebrows or pointed at, what I believed they believed to be, attractive women, then one or more were forced to drink shots of, what I guessed to be, whiskey. Dozens of these full small shot glasses and almost as many empty ones sat on their table. One man had obviously had too much to drink because he spoke in slurred speech and could barely sit on his chair.

At another nearby table was a group of women in their twenties. In front of each of them was a partially full mug of beer, and a few empty beer mugs sat on their table as well. These women seemed to be more decisive in their actions than the men at the other table. Like the men with their shots, these women were checking out the opposite sex. The men and their shots had already been dismissed by these more discerning women. However, I noticed they, or individuals in their group, took notice of certain other men, then called over a barmaid who took a drink to the men of interest. One or two men later approached the table, then left with a woman. Sometimes, the invited man and the inviting woman went to do a bit of line dancing. Other times, both disappeared into the crowd, never to return.

As I found observing this group of women’s game to be amusing, my partner-to-be returned to the table with my Coke or Pepsi and two mugs of beer.

“I think—” I shouted.

“Drink,” he interrupted as he shoved the soft drink toward me. I took a sip and discovered it was Coke.

Before I could speak again, Joseph guzzled down one mug of beer. Then the second. He smacked his lips and looked not a bit drunk.

Werewolves can handle their liquor. Remember that. And I would, being the highly intelligent vampire I am.

“So,” Joseph shouted. “Do you want me to be your wingman or me yours?”

I stared at him. “What’s—”

“To pick up girls,” he shouted to the question I hadn’t asked.

“But I thought—”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” he shouted. “Or do you want to take it from here alone? Or have me pick one for you?”

Certainly not that last one. I’m a vampire and only interested in vampires. “No, not that!” I shouted.

“Then I’ll leave you to your own tricks.” He winked at me. “I’ll be back.”

“But—” I protested. He’s acting as if we got together to pick up women. I should have called Beryl right then, but I remembered he wanted me to promote inter-racial relations and finking on my partner-to-be probably wouldn’t be considered such.

The werewolf was back into the bar chaos, so my protest went unheeded. His first stop was the table of women I’d been observing. I don’t know if he asked one or more of them to dance or made an even more lewd suggestion, but he didn’t stay there long. The women laughed as he departed. I saw him stop at other tables occupied only by women.

Once he and a woman made their way to the dance floor and went through a few dances that weren’t of the line variety. Not that the line dancing stopped Joseph. During many a line dance, he and only a few other males joined the throng of female dancers. The werewolf danced as well as any of the females, so I could tell he was experienced.

Twice I saw Joseph mill around the pool tables until he was invited to play. He won any game he played—werewolves must have reflexes superior to those of humans like we vampires do. Then he went again from table to table where only women sat, again, with the occasional luck to getting one to the dance floor. Or he stood in a corner and observed the crowd. Or he was on the dance floor line dancing. Or dancing with that occasional female partner.

All of which might have been entertaining or a good study of the attempted mating rituals of werewolves with humankind if that had been my purpose for this outing. But it wasn’t. So I grew slowly more disgusted.

After partaking of these activities for close to an hour, he returned to the table with two beers.

“Need another drink?” he shouted.

“No, we need to talk.”

“Need tips on picking up women?”

“No—”

Before I could say more, Joseph guzzled first one beer then the second. “Well, let me know if you do. Enjoy! And good luck!” Then he was gone again.

Of course, during the werewolf’s games at the bar, I continued to observe the men and their drinking game—they left while Joseph was dancing with one of his few female partners—and the women and their moves towards certain males, granting success to a few women so the number at the table decreased over Joseph’s hour of carousing. Throughout all, I’d been making my Coke last as long as possible, so during the course of the hour, it became as much water as soda as its ice cubes melted. Thus, when I’d told Joseph I didn’t need another drink, I’d lied. Well, sort of. I didn’t want another drink because I didn’t want to be here, or if I had to be here, I wanted to be discussing strategy rather than watch my partner-to-be striking out with women.

Not long after the werewolf departed the second time, a barmaid came to my table carrying another glass of Coke.

“I didn’t order this,” I shouted at the barmaid.

“It’s from that table of ladies,” the barmaid responded, nodding toward the table I’d been occasionally observing.

I didn’t feel a response was necessary. I gave her the watered down Coke and took the new one. The barmaid dove back into the fray. Gazing at the table of women, I raised my glass. I wasn’t about to walk over and talk with them. They were human, after all. Probably sort of drunk humans at that. A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair wearing a white blouse, a tight leather black skirt and black leather boots raised her beer mug in response. I think she smiled. The other women laughed.

I took a sip of the Coke, which tasted much better than the watered down version I’d been nursing, then let my eyes scan for Joseph who was again line dancing.

Only to look around and find the same blonde at my table.

“Hi,” she shouted.

“Hi,” I shouted back. Okay, she’s a human, but I should be polite. I smiled. Unlike my werewolf companion.

She hopped up on one of the chairs.

Swell.

“Your friend isn’t treating you too well.” She cocked her head toward where Joseph was dancing.

“He’s not my friend.” As indeed he wasn’t.

“Oh,” The woman didn’t quite know what to say. Or so I guessed with this response.

Despite my better judgment, I knew what I should say and did so. “Thank you for the drink.”

The woman blushed. “You’re welcome. The others at my table…” She waved her right hand toward the table where the women pretended not to be watching us but really were. “… thought you were a sap for letting your…” She paused not knowing what to call Joseph. “…take advantage of you so much. I thought it was sad, and you were just a nice guy.”

She pities me. Great. Pity from a human.

“Besides,” she added, “you’re the first man I’ve sent a drink to.”

Now that’s sad. I didn’t say that, but instead snorted with disgust. “Don’t feel sorry for me. This is supposed to be part of a job.” I paused. I might have said too much.

She gave me a quizzical look. “A job?”

“Of sorts.” I shrugged. “I can take care of myself. And my negligent companion, too.”

She smiled. “I could be your companion for tonight.” Although she’d shouted these words, I think she could have almost whispered them.

I know I should have been nice to her. After all, she’d sent me the Coke and even approached the table to get to know me better. But she was a stupid human in search of companionship that I, as a vampire, didn’t want to give. She’s the one to be pitied.

“Thanks again for the drink,” I said, “but, as I said, I’m doing fine.”

“You’re not—”

I laughed. “No, but I doubt you’re the type of woman I’m looking for.” Because she’s a vampire and you’re not.

She shook her head in disgust. “Well, you don’t have to be a jerk about it.” Grabbing her beer, she stomped back to her table where she talked angrily and excitedly to her female companions who, more than once, stared at me with looks that might even scare the bravest vampires. As my female visitor finished, she and her friends gave me one last stare before they tossed a few twenties on their table and left the bar quickly. With my powerful vampire hearing, I could have listened to their conversation, but as I saw them leave the bar in anger and disgust, I was glad I hadn’t. Stupid humans.

A few minutes later, Joseph again approached the table with a brunette in a plaid shirt, short, tight, blue jean shorts, and brown cowboy boots in tow.

“I’ve got to leave,” he shouted at me. “I thought you were going well there for a while.” He gazed at the now empty table where the women had played their game. “I’m glad you got a little action.” His head nodded toward the brunette. “My friend and I have more important activities, if you know what I mean.” He winked at me.

I didn’t respond because it seemed unnecessary. As Joseph and his female companion worked their way through the crowd, I downed the rest of my Coke. Then I laughed.

XVII

Enter the Police

9:10 p.m. Friday

Joseph growled. “Like hell it went well,” he said. “The two of them could have killed us.”

“And would have,” I said, “if they hadn’t started fighting each other.”

The werewolf stared at me angrily. Okay, this moment was another time when we could have gotten into that huge fight I described earlier. Not that I was going let that happen. Beryl counted on me to be the sane one of us. As indeed I was, being a vampire and all.

Joseph’s eyes flared when, I believed, an idea occurred to him. He turned and dashed up the stairs. I gazed at him and tried to figure out his plan until I remembered my option 5 to check on Max prior to dealing with the vampwolves.

He wouldn’t—

Since I couldn’t take that chance, I ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, and dashed around the corner so I could see where we’d tied up Max.

Our captive was still there, but the silver chains hung loosely from the top of the railing. The werewolf had drawn his pistol and pointed it at the college student who appeared to have been shoved into a sitting position against the lower part of the railing.

“She was beautiful,” he was saying, “and could she ever kiss. Damn, it was great, and she untied me, too. Then everything went black—”

As Max tried to tell his story, Joseph raged, “You and your brother almost killed us! You’re both vampwolves! Your time of terrorizing us, this mall, and the world is over!” And he shot the college student in the heart once, twice, three times. The werewolf holstered his pistol, drew his sword and sliced off the dead human’s head. Our captive was now merely a bloody mess.

A bloody mess, which wouldn’t have happened if he were the vampwolf. For my readers who remember well, they already know why. For those who don’t, a reminder: Vampires, when we die, turn into ash; werewolves become covered in white fur. Max was still entirely whole (well, except for his head lying on the floor) and hadn’t grown any white fur.

Joseph stood over the bloody mess and whimpered as I approached. I wanted to explain how stupid he’d been because if I’d been a vampwolf, escaped from our chains and attacked us, I wouldn’t have returned. So far the vampwolves hadn’t seemed particularly stupid, or at least until they fought each other, and returning after fighting us to where he’d been a captive would have been very stupid. I would have told Joseph all this and more, but our cell phones rang simultaneously.

Both of us answered as we walked in opposite directions from the corpse, I toward the food court, Joseph the bookstore.

“This is Samuel.”

“This is Beryl. What’s the vampwolf situation?”

I sighed. “Bad. I don’t think our captive was the vampwolf, and we just fought two of them.”

My chapter leader didn’t reply right away. “So there are three of them?”

He’s been around humans too long. “No,” I said firmly. “We fought two of them. Then Joseph was mad, returned to our captive, and killed him.”

“Well, if he was the vampwolf, he isn’t now,” Beryl said.

“But he wasn’t the vampwolf. Joseph shot him in the heart and cut off his head. All we got was a bloody mess.”

I could almost hear Beryl’s mind working as mine had only a few moments before. He sighed heavily. I think he wanted to give me some choice words, none of which would build my self-esteem, but the purpose of his call forced him to forego them.

“I was hoping you’d say the vampwolf was your captive or you’d killed it—”

“But I’m supposed to capture—”

“Or you hadn’t seen any sign of it recently,” my chapter leader finished angrily.

“Sorry.” I really wasn’t but it sounded good.

“It doesn’t matter. WOVACOM has kept the police from entering the mall, but their efforts failed a few minutes ago. Luckily, only two teams, rather than nearly all the police surrounding this place, are entering. Unfortunately, they’re all human. You and Joseph need to get them to leave or neutralize them. The latter is fine as long as you don’t kill them.”

No response was needed for this further bit of bad news.

Beryl didn’t speak either.

So I asked, “And where are they entering?”

“One team on the south side close to the cineplex, the other the north side by the eastern department store.”

“Okay.”

“Neutralize them.” And my chapter leader hung up.

I looked at my partner, who’d finished his conversation with his boss before I’d done the same with mine.

“So,” Joseph asked, “are we going to kill them?”

Sighing, I looked at the remains of Max. “I think we’ve killed enough innocent humans today.”

The werewolf gazed at the bloody mess as well. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I really like humans, I do. It was just I—”

I waved my right hand dismissively. Humans have worse ways to die. Say, of old age. I can’t imagine being a human and living for a long time. It must be hell.

“But the cops aren’t innocent, are they? So we’ll kill them to neutralize them?”

Talk about your idiotic questions. Each team would have five to ten police with sniper and assault rifles. Kill them? Only if we want to die ourselves. To think we’d come to fight a vampwolf and we die at the hands of humans. How humiliating.

“Well,” my partner continued, “it’s not as though we can politely ask them to leave.”

Ah, the limited understanding of werewolf kind.

“We’ll neutralize them,” I said, not keeping the disgust out of my voice.

“How?” asked Joseph.

I sighed. “You wanted us to kill them. How did you think we’d to that?”

The werewolf smiled. “I figured I could turn into a wolf and distract them as you turned into mist or a bat and got behind each one of them, became human and broke each of their necks. Or, better yet, you’d distract them and I’d—”

“Two squads will be entering. Each member of each team will carry a sniper or assault rifle. My guess is one or both of us might die with that plan.”

“Then why the hell did you ask? Did you want me to act like a fool? Did—”

I raised my right hand to silence him and said, “Because you have the right idea.”

Joseph smiled at that. “We werewolves can plot and plan,” he said.

I ignored his comment. “You distract them and I’ll put them to sleep.” I tapped the side of my head. “Using mind control.”

“Oh, yeah. Good idea.” Again, he glanced sadly at Max’s corpse.

“We all make mistakes. Now, let’s find some police.”

The werewolf nodded in agreement.

If he’d only follow my orders all the time. “To the doors by the cineplex,” I ordered.

And, surprisingly, Joseph obeyed. He didn’t transform into a giant wolf—I didn’t want him to—nor did he dash ahead of me to show that he was faster than me—he wasn’t. The two of us ran past the broken kiosks lining the food court, turned toward the corner of the food court, a restaurant and a clothing store, turned eastward at that corner and sprinted toward the cineplex and the doors next to it that led to the parking lot.

Through which came a SWAT team of police. Ten of them. Male and female alike, but all appearing like robots from the future. In helmets. With visors down. In black bullet-proof vests. Long blue shirts. Dark blue pants. Black combat boots. Eight police officers carried assault rifles. The last two sniper rifles.

I wonder if silver bullets in those could kill the vampwolf.

I shouldn’t have wondered.

“Who are you!” barked a male voice coming from a tall police officer with broad shoulders and holding an assault rifle.

“Security guards,” Joseph answered. Perhaps that was his attempt at distracting them.

It didn’t work.

“Security guards don’t use swords!” shouted a female voice coming from a short but stocky officer also with an assault rifle.

“Down on your knees!” barked the first. “Hands behind your heads.”

The werewolf glanced at me as I knelt and placed my hands behind my head. He whimpered and did the same.

This move might have appeared cowardly on my part. Quite the contrary. I became subservient to save my life. Although beheading is the most efficient way of disposing of a vampire, it’s not the only way. Enough bullets from an assault rifle tearing into a vampire’s body can be sufficient to cause serious damage. Enough bullets to the head from an assault rifle, or possibly only a few from a sniper rifle, is enough to make a vampire’s brain a mess all over the place. No brain. No mind. We become ash.

Joseph stared at me angrily as the police made a circle around us with all their rifles pointed at us, cocked and ready to fire. As the leader barked questions, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, centered myself and tapped into my inner energy. So far this evening I hadn’t needed to do this, what with all the blood I drank earlier in the day and the mind tricks being of the not-so-great variety, but ten non-compliant police officers could put a strain on my reserves, reserves I still needed to deal with the vampwolves. After establishing a good flow of this energy, I let my mind expand outward, sensing the fiery red sphere that was my partner and all the soft glowing yellow spheres that were the police.

I dove into all the minds of the ten police officers at the same time. In each mind, I first established the thought to put the safety on the rifle so it wasn’t ready to fire at the two suspects. I noticed some obeyed right away while with others I had to make the idea even stronger before they did so. That was the tough part of the operation since I was dealing with the conscious part of their minds. The next part was easy. Inside each mind, I sank to the lowest level that controlled motor reflexes and put them all to sleep. I know many of you vampire readers don’t have such a proficient ability with mind control. Don’t worry. You can learn this trick, too—especially, if one day, you, too, become a special VATE agent.

Opening my eyes, I watched them all collapse to the floor. My partner stared at me angrily. I ignored him because I wasn’t quite done. Again my mind shot out but only to the team leader where I created a reaction that, if he was contacted over his radio—yes, my female readers, the leader was male—he would respond that the mission was going well and they’d report back if something bad occurred.

Then I was completely back in my own body.

“I thought they were going to kill us,” Joseph snapped.

I smiled. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“You could have let me know.”

“Would you have told me?”

The werewolf rolled his eyes.

“Besides, we have another team to take care of.”

Again, Joseph growled, but he still stood as I did, and we sprinted toward the northeast corner of the mall, past the food court on the north, then on the east as we turned the corner. Also, of course, past some destroyed kiosks. Toward the stairs, the broken escalators and broken elevator. Rather than loping down the stairs to the first floor to meet the police there—since it hadn’t worked so well by the cineplex—we stayed on the second floor. Joseph on the south side, me on the north. Often an area opened to the lower level between us. We dashed toward the sporting goods store and the entrance of the eastern department store where so many of the evening adventures had occurred, then we stopped as we saw the second team of ten police advancing around the destroyed playground, a little west of the broken kiddy rides. Helmets. Visors. Bullet-proof black vests. Combat boots. Eight with assault rifles. Two with sniper rifles.

“Hey!” Joseph shouted.

Before they could look up, I was in each of their minds. I see no need to bore you with the details of what I did because what I did was exactly the same as with the first group. The ten collapsed on the floor, asleep. A few even snored.

“That was easy,” I lied. Actually, it hadn’t been. Drawing on my inner strength, even with that gallon of blood I’d drunk what seemed like a long time ago, was taking its toll. Not that I was going to tell Joseph with his being a werewolf and all, but my growing fatigue was worrisome since two vampwolves might still be in the mall.

The werewolf rolled his eyes. “So?” He gazed across the hole showing the lower level. “Back to our packs by the stairs?”

I nodded. “We can reconnoiter there and decide our next move.”

XVIII

No Good Options

The two of us walked casually toward the center of the mall. I considered how the evening had been going. We’d rescued the six large groups of humans. But we still didn’t have a good plan to fight the vampwolves. Not that we talked about it. Because we hadn’t talked about much this evening. Okay, we’d discussed our plan to catch Max. And our plan to neutralize the police. Both had gone better than I thought either would. But dealing with that first group of police hadn’t been as smooth as it might have been. Of course, I would have preferred if we’d talked strategy about the vampwolf and this entire operation Thursday night, but Joseph had acted according to other plans. The entire bar incident still disgusted me.

In any case, for the time being, I decided any sane strategic conversation with Joseph was pointless. Granted, we could probably rescue the few lone humans still hiding in the mall. But, since Max, and probably his brother Matthew, wasn’t the vampwolf, those few lone humans were our only suspects.

We reached the top of the staircase not far from the broken escalators and elevator. Stopping by the bloody mess, I pulled the silver chains from the railing, then Joseph and I walked back to the staircase.

“You know,” said Joseph.

Actually, I didn’t know, and I thought that was an obnoxious expression.

Regardless of my opinion, my partner continued, “When we were attacked by the vampwolves the last time, I’d swear I saw a white ear bud with a white wire threading through the fur of one of them.”

I didn’t respond because I didn’t see how it was relevant.

The two of us walked down the stairs, me swinging the silver chains in my hands, then stood close to the remains of the broken kiosk where we’d hidden our backpacks. I let the chains fall to the floor.

Although I hadn’t replied, Joseph asked, “Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

Even if I’d wanted to answer—and I didn’t—we immediately had other troubles. Coming around on either side of the busted kiosk was a vampwolf. Two again. They’d appeared as if out of thin air. Sorry that was a cliché. Or as if out of thin mist, since we knew they liked to disappear that way. Two fifteen-foot tall masses of fur, teeth, and claws.

And, unlike every other time we’d encountered them, my mind went completely blank. Like a chalkboard without writing on it. Like an unformatted hard drive. Like a black abyss leading nowhere and containing nothing. No options filled my mind. Or more exactly, only totally useless ones.

Options, indeed. If “options” was even the correct term. Alas, even the most brilliant of us, as I am, can have times when our thoughts freeze and our minds are useless. For me, with the two vampwolves coming around on either side of the broken kiosk, this was such a time and these were the options that appeared in my mind:

1. Nothing. That is, the lack of something. In this case, the lack of any plan of action, whether it be good, bad or the type a werewolf or a human might design. Since I didn’t have an action plan, no judgment could be made upon it.

2. Zero. The number that isn’t a number—or is it? I’ll let the mathematicians decide. Regardless, to continue with my logic: It’s not a number. Because if it’s added to any other number, the total is still the other number. Or if zero is multiplied by any number, the answer is always zero. Or if zero is divided into any number, the dividend isn’t anything that humankind or we vampires can comprehend. Okay, negative numbers exist, but although they’re negative, they’re still an amount, at least in a non-positive way. Not like zero, the number that defines nothingness.

3. Null. Or the empty set. For, rather than having a set of possible options from which I could choose one or even combine one or two, I had a set with nothing. In such a set, the choice is clear because no choices are available.

4. Zip. Similar to zero but more of a sports connotation. For a team of whatever sport, you might imagine the players working very hard trying to get the ball in the basket or the ball in the goal or the ball across the field or the ball hit by a bat, and not being able to accomplish any of these tasks. A great deal of hard work with no results at all. Thus, not scoring any points. Thus, the zip. Exactly like my mind attempting to spin scenarios and actions but only able to spin pointlessly.

5. Zilch. A humorous term for zero? Perhaps. But if humor was the goal, my mind was like a stand-up comedian telling jokes at a comedy club. His audience doesn’t jeer or heckle him but also doesn’t laugh at his attempts of humor. The audience simply ignores him, then his jokes and his entire act are nothing. Like my mind trying to imagine plans to attack the vampwolves.

Not that my partner had any problem figuring out a plan. Because he always had the same one. He leaped into the air, transformed into a large wolf, and flew in the air toward the vampwolf closest to him.

As the vampwolves stomped around the broken kiosk to our side.

Although my mind couldn’t devise any plans of attack, I was alert enough for me to jump away from the remains of the kiosk, so I wouldn’t be crushed under one of the beasts’ giant feet.

But jumping backwards to not be crushed wasn’t enough because the vampwolf close to me not only stomped even nearer but also raised its arms then slammed its hands together over the upper portion of my body. I heard bones crunch and with that pain my mind froze again.

Damn.

That was all I could think

Damn damn damn damn damn.

Another huge hand slammed me to the floor, and everything went black.

XIX

A Plea for Sanity

9 a.m. Friday

On Friday morning, I waited until nine to call Beryl and tell him about my experience of the previous night. Since I’m a “special” VATE agent, I don’t have normal work hours the way I did back in the day when I infiltrated companies in search of aliens. There are times I’m on the job for five or six days straight or even a few weeks when I’ve infiltrated a certain group and can’t leave until the mission is complete. At other times like Thursday night, I was “on assignment,” so to speak, for about two hours. With all these variable working times, VATE cuts me slack when I’m not currently on a job. Because VATE is my employer. Not that VATE pays me a good salary. A few times when I infiltrated insurance companies, I was paid more. Lots more. Not that my salary for VATE is bad. VATE would pay for any extra expenses associated with travel, if I had any, but so far most of my assignments had been somewhere in Iowa, so that’s been a totally useless benefit.

In any case, I was happy to sleep in on Friday.

Beryl, being a chapter leader, is paid by VATE like me. I’m not sure exactly what he does with his time besides leading chapter meetings and keeping track of me, the “regular” agents and any other “special” agents in the area, but I knew, from our meetings prior to many assignments, that he wasn’t an early riser. Regardless, he was usually home most mornings and, considering it was Friday morning and the vampwolf was likely to make an appearance later in the day, I expected he’d be home when I called.

After my leisurely morning, or the beginning of it, I called him.

His phone rang once, twice, three times. I wasn’t going to leave a message because I had to talk to him. On the third ring, he picked up.

“This is Beryl.”

“This is Samuel.”

“How did the meeting go last night?”

I’m sure Beryl thought that was a perfectly innocent question. If you’ve been paying attention, as I’m sure my vampire readers have, you know otherwise.

“I’m not going to work with him,” I said, not answering the question.

Silence was my chapter leader’s first response. Then, “You know I can’t allow that.”

“He’s a rude, irrational, disrespectful dog, and I don’t want to work with him.” I thought that was a definitive statement.

Beryl sighed. “Tell me what happened last night.”

So I did. I assume all of you, my readers, remember my lovely time, so I have no need to recount it here. If, for some reason beyond me you don’t, flip back a fair number of pages and read it again.

I finished and repeated my assertion. “And that’s why I don’t want to work with him.”

“Oh.” So said my leader.

I decided to be reasonable. “It’s not as though I don’t like working with others.” (Okay, maybe I don’t, but that wasn’t the issue.) “Let me work with a group of vampires to hunt the vampwolf.”

“No.”

“Let me help the human police force.”

“No.”

I’ll admit I didn’t really want to work with the humans, and I doubted Beryl would let me. But I thought the suggestion would show I was willing to be tolerant in spite of the fact I’m not.

“Then I quit. I won’t do it.”

“No.”

This time I didn’t have a reply.

“Samuel,” my chapter leader said solemnly, “I know you don’t want to quit VATE and I won’t allow it. You’re one of our premier agents in this part of the country. I’ll see what I can do about increasing your salary.”

See? Being stubborn can pay off. In this case with a monetary reward.

“But vampire authorities much higher than me want this to be a joint vampire/werewolf operation.” Beryl continued. “As I told you on Tuesday, our leaders hope this will promote better relations between the races. I understand your experience last night was awful, and I intend to talk to Joseph’s pack leader about it.”

I didn’t respond. I knew what Beryl was about to say.

“Regardless, the next time the vampwolf is sighted, both you and Joseph will hunt it together. I don’t care whether you two are on speaking terms or not. Even if you’re not, you’re still going to work together.”

Again, I didn’t respond.

“Understand?”

“Yes,” I said submissively although I didn’t feel it. If my werewolf partner and I aren’t going to work together, what’s the point of acting as if we will? Hypocrite. Of course, I kept these thoughts to myself.

“All right. I’ll contact you when the vampwolf is sighted and give you the plan.”

“There’s a plan?”

My chapter leader laughed. “We’re vampires and even if we’re working with impulsive werewolves, we always have a plan.”

I snorted. “Such as?”

And Beryl explained it to me. I listened carefully and knew I could do my part, although I doubted that Joseph would do his.

“By the way,” Beryl added. “There’s a good chance the vampwolf will be sighted tonight, so mid-afternoon, drink that gallon of blood I provided.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I hope I don’t have to call you.”

“Me, too. If I never see that werewolf again, it will be too soon.” Sorry for that cliché, but it needed to be said.

“If that was under my control, I would let you, but it’s not.”

Again, I felt no reply was necessary.

“But be prepared for action tonight. And don’t dwell on last night’s experience too much.”

Before I could reply, and I had some choice words to say to that comment, Beryl hung up. Later that day I drank my gallon of blood. And you, my readers, regardless of race, and I know how this day worked out.

XX

Captives

9:40 p.m. Friday

I’m not dead.

That was my first thought after everything went black. My ribs still hurt. I knew while I’d been unconscious my body had repaired some of my injuries because, after all, I’m a vampire and we have great healing abilities. But the pain in my chest was worse than that of a few broken ribs. I didn’t want to open my eyes and see.

When injured, we vampires are usually taken to our own medical facilities, which are in the basement of someone’s home or an apartment building owned by WOVACOM or, in metropolitan areas bigger than Des Moines, in a portion of an actual hospital, but, if that had been the case, I’d be lying on a comfortable bed right now. I wasn’t. I was in a crouching position and could feel my arms pulled back and immobilized by some sort of restraint.

I sighed. I can’t avoid reality forever.

So I opened my eyes.

To see I was still in the mall. I guessed I was on the second floor of the sporting goods store, partly because not far away I saw a huge collection of hunting attire in camouflage, dark brown, and black—shirts, pants, and boots. Not that where I happened to be was my first concern. I let my eyes fall to my chest where a large wooden stake protruded from my left side. From my heart, to be exact. And it was the wooden stake I’d brought in my backpack with the idea we might want to use it on the vampwolf.

That didn’t happen.

I crouched with my knees in front of me. Both of my arms were tied at the wrists with rope to the upper part of the railing behind me, a railing that followed along the edge of the second floor around the staircase leading to the first floor.

Hearing a growl, I looked to my right to see Joseph in his human form, also in a crouching position and also tied to the railing but with silver chains that had been in either his or my backpack. Again, a weapon to be used on the vampwolf but instead used on us. The silver chains kept him from transforming into a wolf or using his super-human strength to break his restraints and escape.

Just as the wooden stake made of almost unbreakable ironwood did to me. With a wooden stake in my heart, I also couldn’t turn into a bat or mist. And turning into mist would be a good thing because once I became human again I’d be fully healed. My mind powers hadn’t diminished but that was all I had.

Joseph growled again, seeing me lost in thought, and motioned with his head to his right where a tall, muscular young man in shorts and an Iowa State t-shirt was tied with ropes, like me, to the railing. Matthew! Max’s brother. Unlike Joseph and I, Matthew had a gag made of athletic socks around his mouth to keep him from talking. So someone wants to talk to us and not him. Interesting.

Bare floor beside the store’s hunting displays was in front of my partner and me, but in front of the college student were our open backpacks, pistols, cell phones, swords and the backpack contents of silver bullet cases, silver chains, another wooden stake, and packets of some sort of jerky. Two twin boys, each about seven years old with blond hair and blue eyes, each wearing blue jeans shorts, and t-shirts with cartoon characters adorning them, were tearing into this meat and eating it as fast as they could. One boy had a t-shirt adorned by an orange gorilla with a purple cloak and the other with an ostrich in a bowtie. Timmy and Tommy!

A woman clearing her throat caused me to look in front of Joseph and me. Both of us gazed at a thin, petite woman with blue eyes and blonde hair wearing a yellow tank top, tight blue jeans shorts, and sparkling gold sandals that revealed her toenails painted in light blue to match her eyes.

“Carole?” I asked.

My partner growled again. “You know her?”

Stupid werewolf. I’d told him about her and the boys when we’d exchanged information concerning the first two groups of humans we’d rescued. We never discussed the last two groups. I shook my head. Doesn’t matter now.

“And probably them too?” Joseph’s head nodded toward the boys.

Carole laughed. “You two are so funny.” She stared at me. “Do a mind probe on me and, I believe, you’ll understand so much more.”

With my partner staring angrily but silently at me, I let my mind shoot out toward Carole’s. And hit a green and slimy mind.

“You’re a—”

She smiled. “Correct.”

I looked at the boys. “And they’re—”

“That’s right too.”

Joseph looked from me to Carole to the boys and back at me.

Obviously, he doesn’t get it.

I sighed. “She’s an alien.” I motioned my head toward the boys, who’d finished eating the jerky and were mock fighting each other with our swords. “And they’re the vampwolves.”

The werewolf’s brow furrowed.

Not getting it.

“But they’re little kids,” he said.

Carole laughed again. “You two are made for each other.”

We both stared at her.

“I’ll give it to you, she’s nasty,” Joseph said.

The woman smiled. “And I’m an alien.” She waved her hand absently over her body. “This flesh suit is merely my human disguise.” A look of disgust covered her face. “We’ve never liked to adopt these forms, but on this world it’s necessary.” She shrugged. “This suit is especially good at attracting males of all ages, and a few females, and making almost everyone think I’m not intelligent.” She laughed. “But you know that’s not true.”

The dumb blonde stereotype works to her advantage.

I thought I saw a flash of comprehension in Joseph’s eyes. “So you’re an alien and your kids are the vampwolves.” He made this statement a bit more confidently. “They easily could have killed us. Why did you let us live?”

Maybe he gets this situation better than I do. Because that’s a good question. I remembered how effortlessly one vampwolf had killed four Evil Ones.

Carole gave us that motherly look of a caring woman looking at her children whom she loved but knew were incapable of understanding anything. “Because the two of you are working together. A dog and a leech. A hairy one and a bloodsucker.” She stepped toward Joseph. “You so impulsive, irrational, and, dare I say, a bit stupid.” The werewolf growled. She ignored it and stepped toward me. “And you so calculating, cold, rational, and, dare I say, desirous of being intelligent.” Joseph snickered. I tried to look on impassively.

She stepped back, looked at the boys who continued to fight with our swords and to shout and tease each other. “Boys!” Carole ordered. “Come here!” The two boys dropped the swords, dashed to her side, and stood obediently to her left. “Now, stand quietly while I talk to these two gentlemen.”

The two boys giggled.

“Yes, I realize that term isn’t appropriate.” She gazed at me. “I knew some of your kind would eventually investigate the mischief me and the boys were causing. I counted on it. Well, we aliens did. We wanted to see how well the boys could fight you.”

“And we did a good job, didn’t we, Mommy?” said Tommy.

She smiled, but her eyes showed anger. “Yes, Tommy, but Mommy is speaking and her children should talk only when asked.”

Timmy elbowed Tommy in the ribs and mouthed the words “I told you so.” Tommy blushed.

“So you can imagine our surprise when a vampire/werewolf team came to investigate. All right, my first inclination was to kill you, but, after watching your first fight with Tommy, and my letting you escape relatively unscathed, I knew I’d have to capture you and discover how such an unlikely alliance was made.”

I noted that she’d witnessed the first fight. Before I could make more of it, Joseph said, “Both of our races have a stake in getting these attacks to stop.”

“Is that true?” she asked me.

Okay, if I’d had my own way, I’d have said I didn’t want this alliance and it wasn’t my idea and I thought it was stupid, and so on. But realizing that my working with Joseph was probably all that had kept us alive this evening, I decided to take a wiser tack.

“We each had unique talents and abilities to bring to the fight and, as Joseph said, a stake in the vampwolf’s destruction.” I paused to see if that got any reaction. Seeing none, I continued, “Besides, we knew these vampwolf attacks weren’t normal since the vampwolf didn’t keep attacking then burn out.”

She smiled. “That’s so cute.”

The boys giggled and elbowed each other in the ribs.

Carole stepped toward Joseph and brought her hand close to his face. He snapped at her like a fierce dog, provoked. She shook her head. “Of course, my dear werewolf, this means we can no longer ignore your race.” Her brow wrinkled. “It’s a shame, really. After all, you’re just a wild and happy race that ignored our existence for so long.”

“We don’t care about you,” Joseph said. “Only the vampwolves.”

“He means us, Mommy,” Tommy said.

“Tommy.” The alien’s voice was harsh. “You know the rules.”

Again Tommy blushed while Timmy looked and stuck out his tongue at his brother.

“But that isn’t the issue now,” the alien said. She stepped toward me and lightly patted my cheek. “I see you are more civilized than your partner.”

I remained silent.

Carole continued, “Because of your race we had to take these steps. If you’d only let us go into human businesses and institutions and destroy them, we could have made such good allies. We know you think humans are stupid too. But, no, your kind took it upon yourselves to try to eradicate us. We had no choice but to wage war on you as we pretended to continue destroying human institutions.”

I kept from snorting with disgust, but it took all the strength I had. Aliens are as egotistical as Evil Ones. In the past, I’d uncovered some plots of Evil Ones and they’d confronted me before I fully stopped them. Believing I was about to die, the Evil Ones explained in nauseating detail about the plot, its goal, and their manipulations of events and me — if they’d done so. They blabbed on and on and on and on and on… Granted, that tended to work to my favor, but I was sad to see aliens had the same problem. So much of the time, I’d confronted aliens, we’d fought, the alien or aliens had died, and that was that. I guess I was glad this time Carole was like an Evil One.

Carole didn’t know my thoughts and that was just as well. She continued, “So, in the past few years, my kind has been working to find better ways to fight you bloodsuckers. I know vampwolves exist in the world naturally, but most of them are wild and untamable, rather like certain ones of both your races—”

She means ferals. And, yes, that’s true.

“Not only are they uncontrollable, but, when the large human, or more exactly vampire or werewolf in human form, transforms into such a beast, it rages, destroys, and kills, then in only a few hours, if not less than that, it burns out and dies.” She shook her head sadly. “Not exactly what we had in mind for good fighting machines.”

Can’t argue with that. So I didn’t.

“That caused the need to create our own. We’re rather ingenious about manipulation in the biological world—”

And modest, too.

“You should see some of our efforts.” She laughed softly.

I had seen a few of the aliens’ other biological wonders, but they were nothing compared to the vampwolves.

“Of course, you won’t because you’ll soon be dead.” Carole paused. “Some of our recent efforts produced the boys. They obviously have become good little boys and better vampwolves, but needed to be tested in the field. In my opinion, their field test has been quite successful.”

Joseph nodded enthusiastically, perhaps with the idea he might avoid death while I wouldn’t.

I smiled. I was trying to figure out a plan and my mind had only a glimmer of one. “But they aren’t fully dependable because you have to watch them.”

Carole frowned.

“And give them orders,” I added. Angering opponents who believe they’re superior is good for distracting them and it’s fun, too.

The alien grimaced. “Yes, for all the attacks on you, I watched them because, well, I wasn’t sure I wanted you two dead.” She laughed. “Ah, but before you arrived, I let the boys rampage throughout the mall, making a great effort to destroy anything in the middle of the aisles. I think all those kiosks are stupid—”

Well, I can agree with that.

Hearing talk about them, and I would guess, their good times, first Tommy elbowed Timmy in the ribs. Then Timmy elbowed Tommy. Then Tommy shoved Timmy’s shoulder. Timmy used both hands to shove Tommy. Then both boys were in a shoving match. Carole noticed, too.

“Boys, stop it! Behave while Mommy talks to her captives!”

Both boys stood at attention and blushed.

She certainly controls them well.

Carole sighed. “In any case, that wore them out with terrorizing and scaring most of the humans, and even being shot at a few times, not that bullets hurt them as you know, bloodsucker. We hid with our groups of humans where we would have stayed if you hadn’t entered. Yes, eventually, we would have left, once adequate police arrived,” she replied to an unasked question. “We have our own psychic abilities, at least some of us, so I was able to create a psychic net and detect your presence.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” I said to be obnoxious if nothing else. Joseph rolled his eyes and glanced at me.

“So I got the boys ready. Dog, you were correct that the vampwolves had ear buds. They’re connected to phones so I can give them instructions—”

They must be smart phones, so Tommy could listen to music, too.

But I still wondered about something. “That’s all fine and good, but why did you get Max and Matthew involved?”

Carole smirked. “Oh, those two.” She let her eyes drift to Matthew tied up next to Joseph. The boys giggled, but an angry look from Carole quieted them. “We saw them before I let the boys terrorize the mall. I’d hoped you leeches would show tonight, and if you did, I wanted both boys in action. Besides, both boys wanted to wreck the mall. When I saw…” She motioned limply with her right hand toward Matthew. “…those two in the mall, I knew they’d be the perfect decoys since they were the stereotypical body types for vampwolves. Each boy chose a brother, messed with his mind, so each would stay in the mall, hide like we planned to, and, if someone tried to escort him out, escape deeper into the mall.” She stepped closer to Matthew. The two boys stepped back and whispered to each other. Carole lightly patted the college student’s cheek.

She returned to stand in front of us. “Your catching Max complicated my plans a bit. That’s why, the first time both boys attacked you, I went and gave cute Maxie a big kiss and untied him.” She smiled at Joseph. “But then you killed him, so I knew my times of fun and games with you were over.”

The werewolf whimpered as he looked from Matthew to me.

I shrugged. “Hey, we all make mistakes.” I stared at the alien. “So were you watching and directing the boys with each of their attacks?”

She laughed softly. “Of course. I let them rampage around the mall on their own before you arrived—well, except when I had each take his hiding place. But, once I knew I had such a team as you, I had to be there to direct them, so they wouldn’t kill you. On the other hand, I allowed Timmy to kill that other band of bloodsuckers since they didn’t have a hairy one with them.”

At this news, I quickly reviewed in my mind each of the attacks we’d experienced by the beasts. Sure enough, Carole had been hiding within sight of every one: leaning over the second floor railing, hiding in a nearby store, hiding in the food court. Yes, each time she’d been there, and with her cell phone right there as well, probably telling the boy or boys what they could or couldn’t do. And that’s why when they began to fight the first time we saw both of them, they stopped, looked up then changed into mist. All of this made obvious one very important fact.

I smiled. “That means the boys are a bit unruly.”

“And can’t be controlled easily,” Joseph added, giving me a knowing glance.

Carole sighed. “They’re seven-year-old boys.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “We’re seven-year-old boys.”

“So there!” spat Timmy.

I chuckled. “And boys will be boys.” Okay, I admit it. I used a cliché, but, somehow, if I hadn’t, I knew someone else would.

The sound of a phone ringing in a bright yellow-and-blue purse that sat not far from our supplies interrupted our conversation.

“Timmy,” Carole ordered, “get my purse.”

The boys dashed over, grabbed the purse together, walked slowly back and handed it to the alien as the phone continued to ring. She opened the purse, took out the phone, glanced at it, and sighed heavily. Looking at Joseph and me, she said, “It’s about time for you to die, but I need to answer this first.”

“We all have bosses to please,” the werewolf said cheerfully.

Carole ignored his comment. To the twins, she said, “If either of these two men try to escape, wolf-out and kill them.”

“Yes, Mommy,” the boys said in unison, then giggled.

The alien spoke quietly into the phone in a language I didn’t understand, then turned and walked about ten feet into the sporting goods store’s displays.

All that was very good because this time I didn’t have to think of options, judge for the best one, or even wonder if my partner would go along. This time I had a plan.

XXI

The Plan

Yes, I had a plan. It had blossomed during the last few minutes that Carole had been talking with us. The plan was beautiful, very detailed, and complete. One I could do with or without the help of my partner. It wasn’t as though he’d been very cooperative throughout our time together. Because of this fact, I knew I couldn’t rely on him so I wasn’t going to have a plan that did. My plan had transformed a bit when Carole got her phone call, but the basics remained the same. And this brilliant plan was based on the following:

1. The boys had to die. Okay, I know Beryl wanted me to capture them. I would have if I could have. Given the situation I was in, capture was not an option.

2. The boys had to die in human form. As vampwolves, they were almost invincible. If four vampires couldn’t kill one of them, Joseph and I certainly couldn’t kill two of them.

3. Carole had to die. Although I knew she was reporting in now, if she and the boys failed to return, the aliens might drop this whole vampwolf idea because their first struggle against vampires had failed.

4. Somebody needed to get the stake out of my heart.

5. Somebody had to untie the chains holding Joseph to the railing. Okay, I know he’s an obnoxious, irrational, impulsive werewolf. But if I escaped and he didn’t, I knew I’d get grief from Beryl. My chapter leader gives me enough of that as is.

6. Carole was currently occupied. As I mentioned earlier, my plan could have gone off even if she wasn’t, but, that would make at least part of it much easier.

7. The boys, being the boys that they were, were easily distracted. That was a necessary part of the plan.

8. My plan, if all went well, should only take about two or three minutes. Definitely, less than five. I think if Carole hadn’t taken her phone call I might have been able to get this much time. With her on the phone I thought I surely could.

9. All I had to my credit were my mind powers and my wits. Luckily, both were in good shape despite the rest of my body being out of commission.

And these were the bases of my brilliant plan, which I believe any of my vampire readers have already figured out. My plan was brilliant because, by definition, it had to brilliant because it was mine.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and focused on my deep inner self from which I tapped into my inner source of energy—and it was still strong. That was good because I needed it, especially since my regular source of energy from that gallon of blood I’d drunk so long ago was almost gone.

Opening my eyes again, I smiled, glanced at Joseph, nodded, then gazed at the boys.

“Don’t you be causing any trouble,” warned Tommy.

“’Cause we can wolf-out really fast,” said Timmy.

Both boys gave us devilish grins.

And that’s what I’m hoping for.

“So you like to wolf-out?” I asked casually.

Tommy smiled. “Course we do.”

“That’s for sure,” Timmy said. “When we’re wolfed-out, nobody can stop us.”

“Especially you bloodsuckers,” his twin spat.

“I like turning into a bat or mist,” I said.

“And I like to wolf-out too,” Joseph said.

I think Joseph understands that we need to distract the boys. Good dog. Of course, this was only part of the plan.

“It’s so much fun to wolf-out,” the werewolf continued. “It’s especially good when my whole pack wolfs-out and we run through the woods together. It’s when we’re all wolfed-out together we feel most like a family.”

He gets it! Good job, Joseph. Not like I’d tell him that. Well, you know why.

The boys looked a little bit sad. Tommy said, “We’re the only ones who wolf-out.”

“Yep, just us,” Timmy said.

“Your mommy can’t?” I asked innocently.

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Mommy? No, she can’t do lots of stuff we can do.”

This conversation was progressing well, but I had to take other measures. Other measures to ensure my plan would work.

I let my mind shoot outwards, avoiding my werewolf partner, the alien and the two vampwolves. Not many humans were in the mall, so finding some wasn’t difficult. Not that I was looking for just any human. No, I was in search of two particular humans. When a mind shoots out of a body, of course, leaving a portion still in the body, distance to another mind matters. Especially for a mind attack rather than simply a search for the minds of sentient beings. And even more so if the mind that is searching isn’t at its full strength, such as mine was, even after tapping into my deep inner strength.

My mind found a group of humans asleep on the first floor not far from the sporting goods store. I popped into one after another in search of two special ones. One after another, I saw these police officers had brought assault rifles. Then I found one who’d brought a sniper rifle. A Mullins, by name. And another, Gonzalez. I dove deep into each of their minds.

Of course, Joseph and I were still talking with the boys.

“So she can’t turn into a bat or mist like you?” I asked.

“Nope,” Tommy said.

“She just always stays Mommy,” Timmy added.

“We know you can turn into mist,” I said, “but I haven’t seen you turn into bats.”

“Me either,” said Joseph.

“Can you do it?” I asked.

The boys looked at us as if to say “you’re idiots.” Then they looked at each other. And their bodies shrank, black fur grew over most parts, and their arms stretched as a thin layer of black skin grew between their torsos and the bottom of their arms. In only a few seconds, two bats, each about a foot tall and with a four-to five-foot wingspan, faced us. Just as quickly they then transformed back into seven-year-old boys.

“We’re good,” Tommy said.

“Mommy says so,” Timmy added.

As our conversation continued with the boys, I was working away in the minds of Mullins and Gonzalez. First, I created a trigger in each of their minds that once I finished the job in their conscious minds the motor control part of their minds would force them back into a deep sleep. Next, I removed all ideas of the vampwolf (or “great hairy beast” as they thought of it) from their minds. This task took a bit longer since they’d heard of the attacks from last week and earlier this evening and the beast was the reason they were in the mall.

Before receiving the training to become a special VATE agent, I probably couldn’t have succeeded in this removal, because as I said, the memory of the beast was in many places in their minds. And such removal was more difficult in Gonzalez than Mullins. Then I created the need to do target practice on twin boys with blond hair and wearing t-shirts. The officers were to shoot the boys in the head: Gonzalez the boy in the t-shirt adorned with the gorilla, Mullins the boy with the t-shirt adorned by the ostrich.

As I worked in the minds of the police officers, I continued to talk to the boys with Joseph.

“You’re very good,” I said.

“In your vampwolf form, too,” my partner added.

I laughed softly. “I bet you like to drink blood.”

Both boys licked their lips.

“It’s good stuff,” said Tommy.

“Especially right out of humans,” his twin said. “Mommy let us suck a human dry this afternoon.”

“Yeah, she said we’d need it for tonight. Course, she also let us ’cause blood is best when it’s warm.”

That’s true. Ironic the boys were brainwashed to hate vampires.

At that moment, I heard the flurry of bat wings. I glanced at Carole who was in an intense conversation with, probably, another alien who was her boss. She didn’t pay attention to this new development, but the boys, Joseph and I paused our conversation to watch. Black bats of the variety we vampires transform into, that is, about six inches tall with a wingspan of about twelve inches, flew into the sporting goods store from the mall. One, two, three…I counted up to ten. They flew to the displays on the other side of the store across the opening in the middle of the second floor around which there was a railing and from where you could see sports items on the first floor.

After watching the bats fly in and disappear from sight, Joseph looked at me and winked.

He thinks they’re VATE agents! I knew they weren’t because I hadn’t made such plans with Beryl. Although that would have been a good idea, considering how invincible the vampwolves are.

I knew who the bats were. Evil Ones. Okay, it had taken Reginald—I guessed he was the bat while the four younger Evil Ones had attacked and been killed by one of the beasts about an hour—to gather nine other Evil Ones to vanquish the vampwolf. Not a bad plan if only one vampwolf was to be fought, but hardly adequate to fight two.

And this changes my plan. Capture is possible! If the Evil Ones attacked the vampwolves, then maybe I could free Joseph and kill Carole. The boys seemed to be enjoying their conversation with Joseph and me, so without their “mother,” I might be able to convince them to join us, and thus, capture them—that is, if they didn’t wreak too much havoc after the death of their “parent.” Regardless, I knew once I freed Joseph, I’d attack Carole. Perhaps Joseph could help. Or he could fight the beasts. Or he could flee. Whatever he wanted, but at least I could tell Beryl I’d done my best to help my partner.

Of course, I was still working in the minds of Mullins and Gonzalez. I changed their target and turned it into an obsession to shoot the wooden stake sticking out of a person tied to the railing on the second floor of the sporting goods store. Both Mullins and Gonzalez really wanted to do that and felt they had enough skill with a rifle to do it.

I let them wake up and stand. Both decided to go to the sporting goods store and climb the staircase there. In both their minds I eliminated this idea and forced them to decide to climb the still working escalator at the east end of the mall and close to the department store. They trotted toward their objective.

Since the bats had disappeared, and, I guessed, turned into vampires in human form, I knew the time had come to continue talking with the boys.

“And you probably like to eat meat,” I said.

“Raw meat,” Joseph said.

“Oh, yeah, yum,” Tommy said.

“Yeah, when we were vampwolves and makin’ a mess of the mall, I ate two people,” Timmy said.

“I ate one,” his twin added.

Joseph grimaced in disgust at this news. I shrugged. As I mentioned a while back, I felt there were worse ways for a human to end his life.

“Does your mommy like blood and raw meat?” I asked.

The boys laughed.

“No,” Tommy said. “Mommy eats spinach and broccoli—”

“And Brussels sprouts—” interrupted Timmy.

“And some green soupy stuff—”

“Yuck,” both boys said together.

“Well,” I said, “I like blood, especially when it’s warmed just right.”

“And I like raw meat,” my partner said.

The boys seemed to be enjoying our conversation and perhaps Joseph and me, so convincing them to side against their mother and go with us seemed possible (or so I hoped). But at this time, my two police officers arrived with their rifles, stood near the entrance of the sporting goods store to the mall, raised their rifles and aimed them at the stake in my heart.

XXII

The Battle in the Sporting Goods Store

The first bullet hit the stake hard, and I felt a jolt in my chest. The second bullet hit the stake at a slightly different angle, and the top of the stake moved a few inches. To this day, I’m not sure how Mullins and Gonzalez knew to fire mere seconds apart. Maybe because I was in both of their minds, and I was coordinating them. I don’t remember consciously doing so.

Then a third and a fourth bullet hit the side of the stake, and I felt these jolts almost knock it out of my heart and chest. My mind released the two police officers who, I would discover later, collapsed to the floor and fell back into a deep sleep.

I shook my torso and arched my back.

Throughout this time, the boys watched in amazement. Carole, hearing the shots, gazed at me, said something into her phone, then dashed towards me.

I shook again, and with a gush of blood, the stake fell from my chest.

Carole shouted, “Boys—”

I dissolved into mist and re-materialized outside of the ropes that had confined me. And re-materialized fully healthy. No wounds in my chest. No rope burns on my wrists. No broken ribs.

“—wolf-out!”

And wolf-out they did. They grew and grew. Their legs ballooned to the size of thick tree trunks, arms the size of thinner tree trunks, hands the size of bed pillows. Huge claws grew from their fingers and toes. Their noses and mouths merged, extended outward and created muzzles full of sharp teeth. Their ears stretched and grew points. Fur erupted all over their bodies, melting away t-shirts, shorts and shoes. Two fifteen-foot-tall beasts stood where two boys had moments before.

“And die!” shouted another voice.

I recognized it. Reginald! Sure enough, he had been observing the battle of the younger Evil Ones and one of the beasts. True to the nature of Evil Ones, he announced his presence rather than catching Carole and the kids by surprise.

Carole still dashed toward us, but her eyes widened and she must have seen the ten vampires. “Boys, kill them! I’ll take care of our captives!”

The “boys” stomped away from my view. Carole dove, rolled on the floor, and grabbed one of our swords.

“And I will kill you!” shouted Reginald, who, with a sword drawn and still in his security uniform, landed next to her.

As all these events progressed around me, I was busy as well — trying to free Joseph from his chains. First, I tried unwinding them, but soon discovered they were tangled together into a nasty knot or the near equivalent. Not wanting to take the time to untie the knot, I began breaking the chains with my hands, using my super strength. I was glad I had this extra strength since the broken chains cut and tore into my hands.

The moment Reginald landed next to Carole, Joseph howled. Not some little terrier howl. An ear-splitting, deep, booming howl worthy of the two vampwolves fighting the vampires. I couldn’t believe Joseph in his human form could howl so loudly. Granted, if he’d been in wolf form I could have, but not the werewolf as a man.

The sound of the howl filled the store, and, I guessed, echoed though the entire mall. Although the howl nearly deafened me—after all, we vampires can let our ears have super hearing powers—I continued to break the chains. The howl died in my partner’s throat. Then he howled a second time. Equally loud. And a third time. I would have cursed him if I’d thought he’d hear me, and he wouldn’t have over his own howls, and if I’d thought he’d care. But I didn’t think he would—it wasn’t as if we were the best of friends.

The third howl died in his throat. I broke the final silver chain holding his left arm in place, and a pile of broken chains fell to the floor by the railing then over the edge of the floor and to the first floor below. With the only other sound being the mall music playing, we heard the chains clanking beneath us.

“Go,” Joseph ordered. “Help your friend.” His free left arm motioned toward Reginald in his sword fight with Carole.

He thinks we’re friends. I shook my head. I told him they were Evil Ones. Okay, when we first encountered them, I swung my sword and didn’t kill any of them, but that was my own incompetence, not because I had a great liking for them.

I gazed at the fight between Reginald and Carole. Their swords flashed quickly in the air. To human eyes, all would appear as a blur but, using my vampire super sight, I could interpret the fight and not like its progression at all. Although to the untrained eye, the vampire and the alien may have seemed equally matched, they weren’t. Because aliens are stronger and quicker than we vampires. As was apparent in the fight.

Reginald stood about a foot higher and was a good forty pounds heavier than Carole, but she matched him blow for blow. Each of her blows was harder and quicker than any of his. So Reginald was always on the defensive. And he was being pushed backward until he jumped to one side or the other of her to try, in vain, to get the advantage.

That’s why we want to catch aliens by surprise. I smiled. Luckily, Reginald makes the perfect distraction.

“Go,” ordered Joseph as his left hand worked at untying his right.

I went. I jumped from next to my partner to in front of our fellow captive Matthew, and grabbed the remaining sword. Looking at the human captive, I could tell he wasn’t taking the current events well. His eyes were wide open, his pants appeared wet, and he had a small pool of yellow liquid beneath him. He also smelled of, well, I’ll leave that to your imagination. He shouted at me through his gag, but his words were incomprehensible.

“Don’t worry, Matthew,” I said. “Everything will be fine.”

I certainly hope so. I knew if we survived this struggle WOVACOM would have to do some major work on Matthew’s mind.

Behind Matthew and across the gap in the floor revealing the store’s first floor, a battle waged. A battle not as equally matched as the one between Carole and Reginald. Vampires in security uniforms and brandishing swords flung themselves at the huge beasts. One vampwolf grabbed a vampire in each hand and smashed them together. One vampire dissolved into mist. The second fell to the floor, letting his sword spin away and his head to be smashed by one of the beast’s feet and melt into ash.

The other beast had a vampire in one of its hands and bit off my fellow kind’s head. This vampire melted into ash as well.

From outside the store, I heard what could only be described as the thunder of many feet. A small stampede, if you will. Then a huge wolf, the size of a St. Bernard or larger, with dark-black fur, tall and muscular with a slightly shortened tail, charged into the sporting goods store from the mall. Short Tail! He dashed into the store and into the middle of the vampwolf/vampire battle.

I counted six remaining vampires slashing swords, being thrown or captured in the hands of the great beasts. Then, I saw all of Short Tail’s companions sprint into the store as well. Nikki, with the brown fur and a knick in her right ear; Streaker with brown fur coursed in golden streaks. Green Eyes, with golden fur and the telltale green eyes. Short Black, also with black fur but smaller than Short Tail.

All of these wolves dashed into the store and into the fray of the battle. Some, as wolves, leaped upon the beasts, only to be thrown across the store and into display racks; others transformed into humans with swords drawn and flew through the air to stab or slash a vampwolf.

They aren’t Wild Ones. Joseph lied. I smiled. And they’re still alive. Because Carole didn’t think they were a threat. I glanced back at my partner still struggling with the silver chain around his right arm. And that’s why he thinks I lied about the Evil Ones. He thinks they’re my backup like the “Wild Ones” are his.

Having this thought, I knew I’d better make use of Reginald as a distraction soon before Carole killed him. Although Reginald had avoided being defeated during their sword fight and had even landed a blow or two, now Carole was forcing him back into the displays, the racks of hunting pants and jackets, waterproof boots, and athletic wear for running.

The vampire broke through her guard, and the two stood, in a hand-hold, their swords between them, their faces less than a foot apart. Then Carole lifted Reginald and flung him into the wooden counter displaying insulated long underwear. His sword clattered harmlessly to the floor.

If he’s going to be my distraction, I better make sure he lives a bit longer.

I stood and shouted, “Carole, I thought you were going to take care of me!”

She turned to face me. I charged. Our swords met. In terms of sword fighting, we seemed equally matched. I thrust. She parried. She slashed. I parried. Feint. Slash. Thrust. Parry. Each attack was met by an equally effective defense. But she was stronger and a bit quicker than I was, and despite my best moves, I kept backing away with each round of new attacks. Back and back.

Until Reginald grabbed her from behind, his arm tight around her neck. The Evil One smiled. One of her hands grabbed his arm and attempted to pull it from her neck. While she was distracted, I broke through her guard, stepped close enough to stab her in the chest or abdomen only to see her pivot and kick me in the groin and send me flying toward the store’s mall entrance. As I stood, sword still in hand, she flipped Reginald over her head and onto his back. Her sword swished down to behead him, but he dissolved into mist.

“Hey!” I shouted and charged her again.

The Evil One re-materialized behind her, grabbed his sword, and swung. She jumped forward five feet, causing his sword to slash empty air, and the alien to be able to face both of us. Again, we had a flurry of swordplay that kept resulting in a stalemate, but with both Reginald and me sustaining small injuries. Reginald had a cut on one arm, another on his side, and another on his leg I had cuts on both arms and one on my chest through the whole in my shirt left by having the stake in my heart.

Carole, in her yellow tank top and tight, blue jeans shorts appeared unharmed. I knew my own strength was waning so getting too many injuries could weaken me more. Letting my mind drift even a little from the fight was unwise. With a cut and a thrust, her sword hit my sword hand and threw my sword across the floor. Reginald launched an attack to distract her before she could do me more harm. I jumped away, dove across the room, grabbed my sword and stood.

Again, Reginald and Carole were in a fighter’s clutch. This time, their swords were at a forty-five degree angle, their hands in a lock and their faces only inches apart.

I can kill two in one swing.

I raced forward, getting behind Reginald, raised my sword and sliced through the air only to have Carole shove the Evil One back three feet. Jumping back as well, I let my sword continue its course, slicing through the neck of my fellow vampire. His head dropped toward the floor, and his entire body, including the sword he was holding, melted into ash.

Carole smiled. “Now, isn’t that cute? You killed your bloodsucker friend for me.”

I chose not to explain the situation from my point of view.

“Why don’t you drop your sword and let me kill you? You must be getting tired. With all that mind control, turning into mist and a bat, and of course, fighting the boys, you’ve had quite an evening,” the alien said soothingly.

My response was to charge her. Another flurry of swordplay. Again, my being forced to retreat. Again. And again. This time Carole broke through my guard and got me in the same fighters’ clutch she and Reginald had shared so often. Seeing her that close up, I could see she hadn’t even broken a sweat, but her blue eyes sparkled as if we were out on a date. She smiled. I caught a whiff of perfume that smelled like lilacs.

“Do you like it?” she asked. “It’s quite popular with human females.”

Then she lifted me, made me drop my sword and tossed me through the air as if I were as small stone. I’m not. I flew through the air and crashed into the racks of camouflage pants, then closed my eyes. I didn’t have my sword, and, if Carole wanted to, she could behead me and be done with our fight. With my eyes closed, I hoped she’d think I was unconscious then get close enough so I could surprise her. I heard the slap of her sandals against her heels and felt her standing close to me.

“The world won’t miss one more bloodsucker.”

“No, it won’t,” came Joseph’s voice from farther away. “But I’d like to do the honors.”

“Ah, so you would?” Carole asked.

“Of course, I would. I lied earlier when you had us tied up—”

“I see you freed yourself.”

“With his help.”

As this conversation progressed, I opened my eyes and saw Carole standing a few feet away from me with her back to me. Joseph stood in front of her, holding my sword. I shook off the remains of the clothes rack and the pants around me.

Joseph laughed. “That bloodsucker fell for the whole thing. My coming in with him to check out the vampwolves was just a ruse—”

“Really?” asked Carole, casually shoving the point of her sword into the floor.

I stood behind her. Granted, four feet behind her.

“Really. As you said, our races don’t actually like each other. Let’s be clear. We don’t. So I wanted to get the vampwolves or, better yet, their creators, to form an alliance with them against the bloodsuckers—”

As he spoke, I quietly approached the alien.

“Then why was your kind fighting the boys?” asked Carole, leaning closer to the traitor who had been my partner.

Again, Joseph laughed. “To test their strength—”

I grabbed both sides of Carole’s head, twisted, heard the crack of her neck and watched green slime ooze out.

The werewolf rolled his eyes.

I caught Carole’s dead body before it fell to the floor. To the werewolf, I said, “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “You would’ve done the same for me.”

Would I? I guess we’ll never know.

As we stared at each other, I realized the store was quiet except for the mall music. The battle of the vampires, werewolves, and vampwolves had to be finished.

XXIII

Something to Agree Upon

As I looked across the store, I saw only the two vampwolves standing alone in a mess of broken displays, clothes racks, wooden shelves, and sporting goods spread across the floor. No werewolves, in human or wolf form, were charging the beasts, nor any vampires attacking with swords.

I thought I heard something whimper. One of the vampwolves walked a little ways then slammed one clawed foot against something. Both beasts looked at each other, shrugged, and dissolved into mist.

A few seconds later to appear as Timmy and Tommy in front of me holding their “mother’s” corpse.

“Mommy, did we do good?” asked Tommy.

“We killed them all,” Timmy said. “It was fun.”

The two boys stopped talking when Carole’s limp body didn’t respond.

“Mommy?” asked Tommy.

“Mommy?” asked Timmy.

“She’s sleeping,” I lied. “But before she went to sleep she told Joseph and me to take care of you.” This is my chance to capture them. Beryl will be so proud.

The boys looked confused.

“Because we’re more like you than she is,” I continued. “I like to drink blood. You like to drink blood. Joseph likes to eat raw meat. You like to eat raw meat. I can turn into a bat and mist. You can turn into a bat and mist. Joseph wolfs-out. You wolf-out.”

The werewolf stared at me with a puzzled look.

“She’s dead,” Tommy said.

“Dead?” asked Timmy.

“Dead,” his twin said.

“But she was nothing like you,” I said. “We are. We can raise you.”

“She was our mommy,” Tommy said firmly.

“Yeah,” said Timmy.

The two boys looked at each other.

“Timmy.”

“Tommy.”

And a sword sliced through both of their necks, causing their heads to fall toward the floor before they melted into ash. Their legs and arms also melted into ash as white fur covered their torsos.

I sighed. “We wanted to capture them.”

Joseph growled. “Then why didn’t you tell me?” He paused. “And that was a stupid idea anyway.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, probably, but my boss wanted it.”

“Stupid bosses.”

“True,” I said. Okay, I know he’s a werewolf and they’re, well, you know. But if someone states a true fact, the least I, being the conscientious person I am, can do, is acknowledge it.

As my partner sheathed his sword, I dropped Carole’s corpse to the floor. I removed the sword from her hand and sheathed it as well. Walking to our supplies, I stumbled. My whole body ached and cried out for blood. I was famished.

Joseph looked at me. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

We stopped in front of Matthew, who stared at both of us in horror. I sighed. I didn’t really have the strength, but I knew what I needed to do. Raising my palm toward him—an act I hadn’t needed to do much since my trips to Colorado—I shot my mind into his and quickly put him to sleep.

“He could be a problem,” the werewolf said.

I smiled. “We have vampires to take care of that.” WOVACOM, that is.

We gathered our supplies, put what we could in our packs, holstered our pistols—mine still empty of bullets—put on our packs, then used our phones to call our bosses as we went to survey the results of the big vampire/werewolf/vampwolf battle.

My chapter leader’s phone rang once, twice, and he answered it before the third ring.

“Beryl here.”

“This is Samuel.”

My chapter leader sighed. “We hadn’t heard from you and we were worried.”

As I talked, I walked to the other side of the store. What I first noticed were my sleeping police minions. Both had been hurt by the wolves running over them. But they aren’t dead. In some of my operations, many more humans had died.

“I guessed that,” I replied. Then I gave him a brief summary of the events of the last fifteen minutes. As I did so, I walked around the part of the store where the battle had been fought and counted piles of ash. I found nine. Good. They were all killed. Showing the power and strength of the vampwolves. Luckily, Carole took such an interest in my partnership with Joseph.

The werewolf bodies were intact, but all five I saw were covered in white fur. I won’t describe the condition of the bodies. I can say certain body parts were crushed beyond recognition and other bodies had wounds big enough to have let all the blood drain out quickly.

As I passed by Joseph, I heard him say, “Yes, they’re all dead.”

My partner and I met again at the top of the staircase, still talking on our phones.

“Sounds like you were lucky to survive,” Beryl told me.

He’s right but I won’t tell him that. I scoffed. “I had a good plan.”

“And the help of Evil Ones and werewolves.”

I ignored the comment. “We’ve got some humans WOVACOM will have to work with.”

“They’ve been doing a good job out here, but I’ll contact them to let them know.” Beryl laughed softly. “Of course, the WOVACOM police officers will be some of the first in.”

And if you’d arranged that earlier, Joseph and I wouldn’t have had to deal with those two teams. But I didn’t say that.

“Well, you better leave. That way we can let the human forces in.”

“That’s my plan.”

“Hope it works better than your last one.”

I could have said a great deal about that comment but chose not to because such words would possibly endanger future assignments.

“I’m hungry.”

“We’ll get you some blood once you’re out of the mall.”

With that, Beryl hung up. I hooked my phone on my belt. Joseph had finished with his boss a few seconds earlier.

“They’re all dead,” he said solemnly. “They were part of my pack.”

“Oh, sorry,” I replied, wanting to sound sympathetic.

“Sorry all your vampire friends met a similar fate.”

I snorted. “They weren’t my ‘friends.’ There were Evil Ones. I’ve told you that lot of times.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Really,” I said.

“Then I should have told you about the members of my pack.” He said sadly with more regret than merely failing to tell me.

I looked at him. “Yeah, that might have helped.”

We walked down the stairs with me holding the railing all the way down.

“You okay?” he asked again.

“I’m fine,” I said. “And, thanks for calling your pack to the fight or we both might be dead.”

“Yeah.” Joseph sighed heavily. “They died in the glory of the fight. We of WOOF always know that’s a possibility.”

There’s that name again. I was glad I was too tired to snicker.

The two of us walked through the sporting goods store toward the outside doors. I noticed that the displays and clothes racks on the first floor of the store looked as if nothing unusual had happened in the mall at all.

“Good trick with the police,” Joseph said. “And thanks for helping me out of the chains.”

“My boss wouldn’t have been happy if I’d left you to die.” A true statement.

“Oh.” Joseph paused. “I think you didn’t get what last night’s meeting was for. We were supposed to bond as we helped each other pick up women. And have fun with them too.” He winked.

I shook my head. “I think you didn’t get what last night’s meeting was for. We were supposed to strategize for our encounters with the vampwolf. And maybe drink some coffee or tea, too.” I smiled.

We reached the doors leading out of the mall, and both of us stared at each other.

“Our bosses didn’t communicate too well before that, did they?” asked the werewolf.

“Definitely not. But that’s what bosses do.” We both laughed although my laugh was weaker than I would have liked.

Each of us shoved open one of these inner doors, walked through it, then a few seconds later, each of shoved open one of the outer doors and walked out of the mall.

XXIV

A Summation of an Argument

That’s my story of my assignment with a werewolf. Oh, sure, I could tell you, my faithful reader, much more. Like about the police pouring into the mall. Or about WOVACOM’s dealing with the collective memory of the incident, not to mention the memories of Matthew or of the various groups we’d rescued during our time at the mall. I think it took WOVACOM over three months before all traces of the incident were wiped from humans’ memories and web recordings—WOVACOM has vampire hackers. Or about the Evil Ones claiming credit for the destruction of the vampwolf. (Since none of their group survived, the Evil Ones’ organizations never knew there had been two.) Or about the mall being closed for a month after the incident and ten stores and/or food stands going bankrupt. All results of the vampwolf incident but not relevant.

What is relevant is the point of my adventure. Cooperation was never needed. Cooperation, as I explained so long ago, is a highly overrated act. What my time with Joseph showed was that we could be working on our different problems in a completely different way without having to work together at all. We each rescued our groups of humans separately. We each attacked the vampwolves in our own way. All was good. Everything worked out.

Okay, some might argue that Joseph and I cooperated when we caught Max or when I helped my partner out of his chains or when Joseph tricked Carole so I could kill her or when I distracted the boys to try to win them over so my partner could kill them. Granted, some might argue these were moments of cooperation. Some might argue that, but they would be wrong. In none of these cases did we intend to cooperate. If cooperation was achieved, events provided the reason, not the intentions of the participants.

However, a much more compelling case can be made that we were successful because we were in competition, confrontation, and conflict. Joseph’s pack leader and Beryl were in competition in determining how my partner and I should meet prior to dealing with the vampwolf. The pack leader won that confrontation. Joseph had members of his pack come to the mall because the werewolf organization was in competition with VATE in terms of dealing with the vampwolves. Competition. And when we separated to save different groups of humans, that wasn’t a cooperative effort, it was competitive. Also, the fact Joseph didn’t tell me about his pack members until they’d died was because of conflict. The Evil Ones came to fight the vampwolves, and returned after facing defeat the first time, because they were in competition with Joseph’s and my efforts. And Carole would never have been interested in Joseph and me working together if our races hadn’t had a history of confrontation and conflict. Without these events, our mission would have ended in failure. Thus, cooperation had very little to do with our success.

As explained, our mission wasn’t a success due to cooperation. The relationship between our races now and forever will be based on competition, confrontation, and conflict, and those same features played a major role in my mission with Joseph. So there isn’t any point in having any more vampire/werewolf joint missions. And because of that, I should never have to work with a werewolf again.

Table of Contents

- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication Page
- CONTENTS
- Chapter I: Into the Mall
- Chapter II: The Vampwolf
- Chapter III: A Discussion with Beryl
- Chapter IV: A Statement of an Argument
- Chapter V: Evil Ones
- Chapter VI: Rescuing Humans
- Chapter VII: Vampwolf Again
- Chapter VIII: The End of a Discussion
- Chapter IX: Wild Ones
- Chapter X: Child’s Play
- Chapter XI: Vampires vs. Vampwolf
- Chapter XII: At a Bar
- Chapter XIII: Catch the Vampwolf
- Chapter XIV: The Problem with Mirrors
- Chapter XV: Vampwolf Surprise
- Chapter XVI: In the Bar
- Chapter XVII: Enter the Police
- Chapter XVIII: No Good Options
- Chapter XIX: A Plea for Sanity
- Chapter XX: Captives
- Chapter XXI: The Plan

- Chapter XXII: The Battle in the Sporting Goods Store

- Chapter XXIII: Something to Agree Upon

- Chapter XXIV: A Summation of an Argument