The Irish dawn comes late in October. Exhausted from a long night of hunting, running, and terrified amazement of what they were, Dita and Heather, werewolves, found a thickly wooded area between some hills. They stretched and fell asleep, the dark wolf protected by the ivory one. They would sleep deeply till the moon rose again.
Wendy, on the other hand, had been thrilled at what had happened to her body. She loved her heavy muscles that propelled her effortlessly through the Hoosier Forest, savagely killing the two whitetail deer that foolishly crossed her path. The firm venison was delicious and she savored every drop of warm blood that coursed down her throat.
As Wendy was enjoying her new form, three other werewolves were heading doggedly in her direction, not sure if they could find their friend before the dawn. Unable to pack clothes, Debra, Ebony, Sharon, and Anaya…who had joined the pack meeting late after thrilling her children with her transformation, realized that they would be stuck in their fur like Wendy for a good portion upcoming day, but hopefully they could explain that rather inconvenient aspect of being a new lycanthrope before the Indian girl panicked. So that is two people I have to worry about, thought Debra. My own daughter…who SHOULD be snuggling besides me as I comfort her, and this FBI agent to whom Lis neglected to mention all the sticky details of this new lifestyle. Debra was, to put it mildly, more than a little irritated at the whole deal.
They knew that Wendy should be relatively close, assuming that Lisa’s hunch was correct. Still, it was at least another seventy miles, probably or eighty. Werewolves are strong, and they have remarkable endurance, but even so there was no way that they could run full out for an hour. A good steady pace for a werewolf is fifteen to twenty miles an hour, so it would be after midnight before they could really start searching. They would be able to smell Wendy when they were close enough, but they might have better luck howling, except that there had been reports of grey wolves along I-65…and NONE of the girls wanted to risk being mounted and impregnated, three full days of being a wolf would be nothing compared to being in wolf form for the duration of a pregnancy. Debra shook her head in disgust as she trotted eastwards. Doubtless that Lisa had forgotten to mention THAT aspect to Wendy as well.
Debra was, of course, correct.
Behind closed eyelids, Rachel’s grey eyes fluttered around rapidly, dreaming dreams that were vivid, graphic, horrifying and all too real. Her heart pounded at the hellish nightmares that haunted her, images of her friends all those who she loved and cared for changing into vicious furred creatures, begging her for her help, cursing her horribly for her impotence and incompetence. She saw herself looking at herself in the mirror as flesh melted away as if under acid to reveal her bloody skeleton. Fangs sprouted in her skull and two sharp horns grew from her head. Suddenly she was no longer an observer, but now within her demonic skeleton, she felt the scene change from an anonymous bedroom to a bright shining white throne, a Presence she knew but knew she did not know.
A Presence she had rejected, that now pointed a finger at her in righteous anger.
“THOU ACCURSED!!! DEPART FROM ME!!”
Rachel felt herself falling back, into a stifling blackness that engulfed her. She felt herself getting hotter and hotter, intolerably so. As the blackness exploded into fierce flames, she bolted upright in terror.
Awake. The golden sun shone directly into her face. Rachel clasped her trembling hands to her face to feel the smooth pink skin. She gasped, sobbing with relief.
Zirikhakza laughed.