Chapter Two
Danny hesitated outside the filthy alleyway, with the pungent odor of accumulating trash and rotten food, and the stain of urine on the walls. His heart thrashed in wild fear, his lips were dry over his teeth, and his limbs trembled, turning into mush. If he did this… if he dared do this, what retribution would it bring?
Growling hatred hit his ears. Lurking further down the alley, tucked in the darkness, shone animalistic yellow eyes. The figure emerged out of the black, revealing a decrepit, dirt-stained man with a savageness to his features, a hungry, gaunt restlessness. Living on the city streets had not been kind, compared to his natural habitat in the mountains. The man hated this environment with a burning fervour, but it also offered more stability. Security. Except he had rejected the life the others had offered, and dragged his son with him.
“Well, boy? I don’t see anyone tagging behind you. But I smell the scent on you. Are you going back in?” His father limped over, his emotions betrayed by the enlarging of his canines, the intense glimmer of the twin suns in his stare. Danny knew he caught the scent of fear as well, knew his heart traitorously pumped the sound to his father’s enhanced ears. The mild inflection of his question betrayed the knowledge bubbling within. He merely waited for Danny’s new excuse.
“There was cop presence, and no one was alone. We can’t be suspicious. We have to pick and choose, if we do this at all.”
His father, Nikolai Lubova, shivered indignation, but kept the rage in check. A slice of moonlight cut through the clouds, hitting the open corner where the buildings widened out. “You’d have me eating rats again, boy? You’d reduce yourself to that level, too? I thought you would be more proud of your,” he started coughing, clamping a liver-spotted hand over his mouth, “H-heritage. Proud of who we are. You disappoint me every time.”
Danny had no idea what to say. Every option led to ruin. His father hated how he refused the flesh, rejected the attempts to indoctrinate him in the noble way their ancestors had lived. Yet, Danny still assisted his father with kills, still lured people out whenever the craving of flesh became too strong for Nikolai to endure, even after he lost the advantage of his once handsome features, and the strength in his arms. The move to America had reduced that assistance, almost as if Danny was trying to wean his father off the flesh – but at least four more women would never find their way back home to their families.
How did you tell the man who brought you up that you didn’t want it? How could he explain that there was so much more to the world than the Bulgarian forests and mountains, and the flesh-eating branch of the others he knew?
The ones he had met here were different. They averted human flesh, for the most part, taking rigorous training to immunize themselves to the craving. They didn’t go on rampages in small, isolated villages, spreading infection like the Slavic brethren. His father, hoping for glory in the new land, was disgusted upon finding this out, and refused the offer of a job, a chance for security.
Unbidden, flashes of memories assaulted Danny’s brain. Whole villages erased from the mountains. Howling laughter, as many dived into the living skin of pleading, crying humans, content with their nature, the sinew stuck in the gums of their teeth.
“They just live different here, father. They learned to cope without it.”
“Ridiculous. Oppressing their nature. You know,” Nikolai said, giving his son a disapproving glare, “I know you will flake out again. You’ve always been soft. Nothing like your older brothers. They made me proud. I wish you were strong, like them. I still wish.”
And they’re dead, Danny thought, with savage, bitter satisfaction. He thought once more of the woman inside the club, the dark haired, blue eyed beauty that had a way of looking into you, of saying words that struck somewhere close to home. She would have been the perfect target. He knew she would have followed him out the club, he could smell the arousal coming from her skin, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. He might have even taken her to a motel and screwed her under the blankets, but then Nikolai would be lurking nearby, waiting for the morsel that was promised.
Everywhere, at each turn, all roads twisted and bent into Nikolai, and the memories of the killings, the promise that blood was thicker than water.
“You should have taken the offer, father. We wouldn’t be like this. They wouldn’t be looking for us. We would not be skulking criminals. This is not pride. This is foolish stubbornness.” Shit, Danny thought, even as he forced the words out from his constricted throat. He won’t listen. He never does. The pride kills him.
His father lashed out with clawed hands. Danny flinched as the sharp nails tore into his cheek, leaving bloody furrows. “No Lubanov will bow down to the demands of weak-willed, shameful inheritors of our blood. I would rather live in shit and piss than bend the knee to the softness that infects our whole society.”
Danny breathed hard, the fear pinching his heart, fogging his brain. He hated his father’s anger, dreaded it. Still, the words kept escaping. “No Lubanov ever got exiled from their own community before,” he spat. “Even your appetite was drawing too much attention.” Guilt pounded at Danny as well. For failing his father. For having taken so many lives. For not being able to stop. It was always luck, or a certain word someone said, that spared them. Not because he was a morally correct person.
He might try to take the righteous stance, but he was every bit the monster he believed his father was. And monsters stuck together, so the stones didn’t hurt them.
Nikolai snarled, before falling silent. The tentative slap of footsteps perked Danny’s attention. Fear iced every cell. No. It couldn’t be. His father backed deeper into the shadows, growling softly. To Danny’s relief, the peach odor of the blue-eyed girl didn’t permeate his nostrils. It wasn’t her. He slid further into darkness as well, heart palpitating fast.
One, two, three people trotted into the filthy under stain of human society, where Danny and Nikolai lurked. A new worry punctured his brain, when he recognized the distinctive scent of his species.
The others, who hunted.
“Run,” Nikolai hissed. “Son, get behind me. You are faster.”
“Father…”
“Run!” Nikolai snapped. The noise drew the three others, though they had long since detected the scent, probably from when Danny had entered and left the club. Or maybe they had been following for days, tracking old smells.
“Father, I’ll help…”
“Run!” Nikolai howled, swiping at his son. “Abomination of blood you may be, but you are still my son! I will not have you die! Not after everything that has happened. Obey this, if nothing else!”
Wasting no more breath on words, Nikolai’s teeth distended, the claws thickened, and strands of hair began developing on his face. His throat rumbled in a series of growls, and he lunged at the three intruders.
Danny groaned. If his father had fed in the last three weeks, he would be so much stronger. He would cope. But he was too addicted to human flesh – he refused all else. Stubborn, foolish man.
Screams, yelps and growls flooded the tight, narrow space.
Now, as his father fought the werewolves, Danny knew he had a real chance at freedom. He could leave the old man to his fate, and escape without a murmur. Maybe he could slink off to a distant state, and try and join the companies down there under a different name.
Maybe. Just maybe.
But, even after all this time, with the knotted rope of hatred, misery and guilt squeezing his guts, he couldn’t.
He just couldn’t leave the old man. Besides, he would be chased to the ends of the earth, anyway. No werewolves accepted the Lubanovs anymore. Whatever noble dynasty his father claimed of their lineage, had fallen to scraping out scraps from the bottom of a barrel. There was nothing left in the world but to run, hide, and kill.
Danny took off the restrictions placed on his mind, giving into to the animal side. Power flooded through his muscles, twitching every nerve. With a bone-grating howl, he dove into the pack of American werewolves alongside his father.
Too late as well, he realized, there was a scent of peach there, just a short distance behind them. The warmth of her. The human he had tried to spare from the ravenous teeth of his father, and the craven heart that could not resist those demands for long.
Danny felt the world collapsing around him. The death he had tried so hard to avoid decided instead to follow him, as if hungry for it, mocking his attempt of goodness.
I deserve this, he thought, despair seeping. I deserve this.