The residents were holed up in the Towers as a ‘weather bomb’ presented itself and descended across the middle of the country. Cripple Creek was choked up as the streets filled with snow from the storm that swiftly swept over the town, and during the midst of the night where the temperatures rapidly plummeted to the wrong side of zero. Minus five in parts, however, in Declan's old house where Gabriel, Maria, and Kelvin sat, it felt like minus twenty. The log stove roared as much as the wind which battered the kitchen door. The house was old, and the creaks that made their way through the wood sent shivers up their spines.

Maria picked up the tin kettle from the stove and poured steaming hot water into the mugs. It might be freezing outside, but once that hot cocoa got into their bellies they'd be “snug as bugs in rugs.” Gabriel was the first to hear the scratching. His human ears were not as well-tuned, so he could only pick up direct sounds, rather than every small sound that Kelvin and Maria found plundering inside of their heads.

Gabriel stood, now leaving his cocoa on the table. He walked to the kitchen window. Careful with his hands, so as not to rest on the freezing cold, ceramic of the sink. There, he wiped a little of the frozen condensation off the glass. A light frosting of ice slowly melted on the cuff of his jacket as he peered into the maelstrom that whirled around the house outside. His breath fell onto the glass as his eyes peered from the small circle he’d rubbed through the crusty layer of ice. Dashes of black flashed through the shower of snow, and it descended onto the meadow that spread toward the tree line. One that Gabriel could hardly see. The dark dashes vanished as Gabriel turned back to the kitchen table, he sat and continued to drink his cocoa.

His gaze lifted to Maria. "It's only the wind, what else could it be?" he remarked as his breath fell from his lungs and appeared to hang in the air. It was as if it was about to freeze.

Maria smiled and answered him without saying a word. She glanced at the kitchen door that rattled and bowed as the wind slammed it on its old hinges. The screen door outside had been propped open. If the heavy snow built up, they’d have no chance to get out, so the kitchen door took the full brunt of the storm that raged outside. Small wisps of snow pushed through the gap at the bottom and the top, all as the wind howled wildly and tried to buckle the door.

"You think that's going to hold?" she asked as Gabriel craned his neck and glanced over at the door.

The gap widened at the top of the kitchen door with each huge gust of wind. He stood and walked over to the door. His hand picked up the old shovel they’d purposely taken in case they needed to clear snow, and once the storm ceased or subsided, somewhat. He’d shored up the door, and did it with the handle of the shovel wedged firmly under the knob. His boot tapped the cold metal as it dug into the old wooden floorboards of the kitchen. An old blanket laid on the boot stand. Gabriel took hold of the fabric and dropped it at the foot of the door. It pushed against the wisps of snow, and the draft that sneakily teased its way into the kitchen, now stopped. He lifted his hand and placed it flat on the top of the door. An old brass bolt that was cold to the touch, could now stop the door bending on its frame.

Gabriel pushed, although the bolt had become misaligned over the years while the house had stood, unused and empty. It gratefully received a makeover before Declan and Noelle left the Creek. However, the bolt appeared to be one thing the workmen missed.

"It's only the wind, what harm can it do?" he said, returning to the table.

"Yeah, it's only the wind," she replied. A hint of sarcasm crept in her words.

Kelvin stood and walked to the old stove. He flicked the catch, and the door swung open. Maria and Gabriel watched the dancing flames as Kelvin grabbed a couple more logs and threw them inside. Kelvin turned his face, it was now reddened from the heat that bellowed from the open door of the stove.

He smiled. "I was going to say, that would keep the wolves from the door!” He chuckled wildly. “Although, we are the wolves, it seems."

Maria rubbed her hands together and then cupped her fist with her other hand. She blew into her hand and felt the damp heat of her breath warm her hand for a second. The warmth lasted for a miniscule time before the bone-chilling cold spread through her fingers again. She blew again, yet the effort failed to make any lasting benefit to her now-reddening digits.

All they needed to do was stock up on hot cocoa and sit the storm out. That was it. Nothing could be out in this storm. Nothing at all.

Tap—tap—tap…

They glared at the window. The glass was too frosted, although they could see there was nothing but dark outside. Dark outside one window?

Tap—tap—tap, they heard again as something appeared to move out in the storm.

"There is something there," Maria whispered.

"It must be a branch of a tree —Gabriel knew it wasn't. “I mean, they are blowing all around outside," he replied with a tone that wanted to appear calm and relaxed. He failed.

The darkness moved from the window and the tap—tap—tap changed to a more-sickening thud—thud—thud on the kitchen door. Gabriel was relieved he’d wedged the shovel under the door. The sound that came with the noise appeared to be a lot stronger than the wind.

The door shook, and the thuds continued, they beat as if the noise belonged to a funeral march. Slow and methodical. Thud—thud—thud—thud.

Maria felt her heart poked with fear, it beat in her chest, and the echo in her ears drowned out the banging on the door. With each thud, the snow that blustered in the gap at the top widened. The hinges appeared to buckle as screws seemed to work their way loose, and any second, they’d drop on the floor and rattle and roll on the bare floorboards.

"There must be someone out there," Maria said as she nervously grabbed hold of Gabriel's arm. "Gab," she called.

Thud—thud—thud, it went. Gabriel concentrated on the sound from the door. Maria's voice in the back of his head.

"Gabriel!" she said louder.

Thud—thud—thud.

"Gabriel!" she screamed.

Maria's shriek filled Gabriel's ears as he opened his eyes. He looked around. Gone was the kitchen of Declan's old house. Gone was the storm that blew outside. The TV that hung on the wall crackled and fizzed with static as black and white dots blurred and flickered on the screen.

Thud—thud—thud. "Gabriel, can you open the office door?” Maria yelled.

He rubbed his eyes as he realized he’d dreamed the whole thing. He swung his legs off the couch and stood. He twisted the key in the lock as he looked at the top and the bottom of the door. Maria's shadow filled the frosted glass of it. He twisted the door handle and stepped backward.

"Jesus Gab, I've been tapping on the glass and banging on the door," she said. "What have you been doing?"

"I was dreaming. I must’ve been dead to the world."

Maria walked into the office, she went behind her desk and sat in her chair. "What were you dreaming about?"

"It was so fucking lifelike, it was unreal —it was a dream, right? Wow, we were in the middle of a storm and something was trying to get into Declan's old house," he explained. "I think they wanted Kelvin."

"Well, there is no storm and Kelvin is safe upstairs watching over Kat. They are getting on like a house on fire."

Gabriel sat on the couch as he pulled on his boots. His thoughts on the dream rang out. Maybe it was a sign of what's to come?

"I better get upstairs and see Tanya," he said, tucking the laces into his boots without tying them. "What time is it?"

"Two-thirty."

"She's gonna kill me," he replied as he stood and walked to the office door and made his way to the apartment.

"I don't think Tanya would ever kill you."

He entered the apartment and sat on the couch as he removed his boots. He closed his eyes and rolled his neck. He felt his stiff muscles creak and crack.

Gabriel opened his eyes and looked at the gap under the apartment door.

Tap—tap—tap.

* * *

Maria locked the door to the office and turned off the main light. She walked to her desk and pulled the half bottle of whiskey that sat there with an empty glass. She was never a big drinker, yet a glass here and there comforted her, and always helped her think in times that were stressful. Maria knew she needed to reach out, and there was only Declan that would fully understand the situation.

Her hand twisted the cap off the bottle, it’d been a while since she’d last opened it to have a drink or two, just like she was about to have right now. Sat alone on the morning side of midnight, she was about to pick up the phone and call Declan… for advice.

Declan had always said to her, no matter what time she needed him, to give him a call. She wanted this conversation in private, and out of the ears of everyone. Gabriel included.

She watched as the whiskey swirled around the glass. She raised the bottle higher than usual. Maybe this conversation needs more than a double shot. The level rose a little past half way, and up the inside of the glass. The cap was twisted back onto the bottle, although it sat on the desk, rather than being placed back in the bottom drawer. Her fingers wrapped around the glass. She lifted it to her lips and sipped.

The warm liquid swilled around her mouth as she closed her eyes and rested her head against the cool black leather of the desk chair. Her tongue tasted the alcohol as she slowly swallowed and savored the heat that started to spread down her throat. Warmth washed over her as the whiskey reached her stomach. Maria sighed, leaned forward, and placed the glass on the desk before she turned her attention to the phone.

The phone rang three times before the dial tone vanished and there was silence. She pictured Declan rubbing his eyes and rolling over in his bed.

His arm outstretched as he cursed and picked up the phone. "Hey Maria, how are you doing up there?" he asked, in a seemingly-chirpy tone that didn't sound tired at all. "I wouldn't have thought you’d call at this time, unless you’ve got some sort of a problem."

I’ve got a problem alright. The pack is under attack from vampire-werewolves, and I don't have the slightest idea what to do about it.

"You could say that we have a small problem, but it's all under control," she replied, lying through her teeth, and happily reaching for the whiskey glass. She noticed, without realizing it earlier, she’d gulped half the glass, already.

"Did I hear you twist the cap of a whiskey bottle?"

Fuck! Wolf ears are just too freaking sensitive…

"Maybe, it is the middle of the night, and I don't want to start on coffee, or I'll never get to sleep."

Maria waited for Declan's next comment. She knew him well enough to know that he knew her well enough. He also knew that when Maria hit the whiskey, she faced a more significant problem than she let on.

"Let me put Drake back to bed, and then you can tell me everything."

"So, you weren't asleep then?" Maria asked, surprised, and then she understood why he sounded so awake.

"Nah! He has already learned how to turn into his wolf, he is so cute running around trying to catch small wildlife."

The phone went silent. Maria heard Declan's footsteps on the bare floor as he walked away from the phone. She could hear the sound of a loving father putting his son to bed, and then his steps entered back into the room and she heard a bang as he picked up the phone.

"You want to get a drink, this might be a long conversation," she remarked as she topped up her glass again.

"Way ahead of you. I have a bottle here already."

She heard the gulp from the speaker of the phone and then the clunk of the glass on a table. "Now, what’s your problem?" Declan asked.

Maria explained the whole scenario. Declan's laugh filled the phone. He possessed a broad view of most things, but still, vampire-werewolves appeared to be one thing that seemed to have missed his level of brainpower, especially at that time of the morning.

"Declan, I'm deadly serious. The Creek is riddled with vampire-werewolves, and we have no idea who's behind any of it," she pressed. "We have been the victims of attacks, deaths, and all the blood from the hospital and the Red Cross has been stolen."

"Fuck, that is a tad drastic. What do you know so far?"

Maria explained all about the vlads and the daywalkers who could become the ultimate race once they had either Noelle's, Drake's and (what they now assumed was a stop-gap measure) Kelvin's blood.

"Right. So, at the moment, Kelvin's the priority to keep safe," Declan said into the phone. "Why is his blood so special, anyway? I mean, he's not a hybrid, is he?"

"Kelvin explained that his mom never went into that sort of conversation with him. Dustin and I are beginning to think that he might be a sort of hybrid because his blood group is rare, and almost as rare as Noelle's."

"And there are no signs that they’re going to come looking for us?" he asked.

"Not yet. It appears they’re focused on Kelvin before they move, nevertheless, we can see that the numbers are growing," Maria explained. "I'm scared we aren’t going to win this one. We have no way; that we know of, to defeat them once they become daywalkers."

"If that’s the case, it sounds as if you have some time left," Declan said, in a tone that was both assertive and positive at the same time.

"Time for what?" she asked, curiously.

"Time to get out of the Creek."

“The worst nightmares can appear with your eyes open.”