A Shade of Vampire 25: A Clan of Novaks (6 page)

“
D
o
you think the tracker will still work on the other side?” Vivienne asked Corrine as we gathered around the portal with our supplies.

Of course
. I had forgotten about that. Each of our uniforms had trackers sewn beneath our badges, a technology created by the witches. The tracking device communicated with a receiver—a handheld screen—which then became a compass for locating a person.

Xavier pulled out the receiver from his pocket. “I already checked to see if she was showing up. There’s nothing. No signal from her whatsoever.”

“We designed the system to work on Earth,” Ibrahim said. “I don’t know if she will show up once we arrive in the supernatural realm.”

“Well, one way or another, we’ll locate her,” my grandfather said. “Even if it means storming every single room in their buildings.” His focus turned on the gate. “Now. We should not leave too much of a gap in between our jumps. As much as possible, we should try to travel through and arrive at the same time.”

Everyone exchanged glances.

“Well,” my father said, “are we all ready?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” my mother muttered.

She gripped my hand tightly as we piled into the portal. My second time traveling through it was just as unpleasant as the first. The first time, I’d suffered the fear of not knowing what was on the other end, and now, I had the fear of knowing. I just prayed that all the mutants would not still be huddled by the gate.

As we reached the end of the swirling, translucent tunnel, we hurtled out and landed on the damp ground. We rose to our feet immediately and gazed around the now fluorescent-streaked compound. Extra strip lights had been turned on and were illuminating the area.

“These are The Woodlands,” Micah whispered. We all gaped at him. “I don’t need to see beyond this compound to recognize the air of my homeland,” he added in an undertone.

The Woodlands. Why is the IBSI setting up here?

I glanced down at the receiver over Xavier’s shoulder as he knelt on the soil, trying to bring the device to life. Still no signal from Victoria.

“Over there.” Heath pointed to two groups of hunters patrolling the boundaries with leashed mutants. It was only a matter of time before they spotted us. A matter of seconds.

The witches worked together to quickly form a protective barrier around us, and then we all moved forward together with Xavier, my father and my grandfather fearlessly leading us forward.

The hunters raised their guns and moved forward, too, until there were barely six feet between us. The mutants screeched and threw their heads back. But no fire was unleashed. I guessed they were waiting for the hunters’ orders.

“You have my niece.” Derek spoke up, his voice booming around the enclosure. “What are you doing here? What is this?”

“You are trespassing on highly sensitive property,” the foremost hunter replied with a glare. “You must retreat through the portal.”

“In case you are blind,” Derek replied, clutching the badge on his uniform and flashing it to the hunters, “we are TSL. We have special permission—”

“Not permission to trespass, vampire.”

“You have taken my niece, who is also a member,” Derek seethed. “Give her up now.”

“I must repeat,
sir
,” the hunter replied through gritted teeth. “You must leave the vicinity now, or we will be forced to take measures to remove you. Orders are—”

“Your
orders
are of no consequence to us,” my father shot back. “I’m sure you have noticed that we are quite capable of defending ourselves from your mutants and whatever other weapons you have stashed away here. You have one of our people. A human girl. Where is she?”

At this, the hunter shifted on his feet. They had technology beyond imagination, but when it came to our very close-knit group, they could not penetrate the power of our five witches holding up a spell around us. It seemed that they sensed this, and their glares relented a little. The hunter my father had been speaking with exchanged an uncomfortable glance with his colleagues before muttering, “We don’t have the human girl.”

“You really are full of—”

The hunter cut Xavier off. “We have CCTV footage.” He nodded in the direction of the buildings. “I can show it to you.”

All of us were taken aback by this.
How could Victoria not be here?

Xavier grimaced. “Show it to us.”

We followed the hunters with their mutants across the clearing and toward the building on the far right. We did not approach the entrance, however. We traipsed around the side of the building before arriving at a much smaller one that had been hidden from view—a rather nondescript, rectangular building. Its windows were made of tinted glass so we could not see what was inside.

One hunter strode inside, while the others circled around us and remained outside with their mutants. A few moments later, the building’s front windows slid downward, allowing us to gaze inside a room filled with monitors. Their CCTV control room. The hunter was fiddling with one of the monitors, stopping, pausing, rewinding footage, until finally he tilted the screen for us to see better: An injured Victoria scrambling up against a tree—that was the last Heath and I had seen of her—and then shortly afterward…

What?

A wild-looking young man with black hair thumped to the ground beside her. He scooped her up and then with an almighty leap swung back into the tree with her.

So that’s why those hunters were shooting at the treetops.
But who is that man?

“Oh, my God,” Arwen gasped, clasping a palm to her mouth. “That’s the wolf guy!”

Everyone whirled on her.

“The wolf guy in the cage whom Victoria insisted I free,” she said. “That’s the guy!”

This was the first I was hearing about Victoria and Arwen freeing a “wolf guy”.

“If he’s a wolf, why is he in his human form?” Heath asked. “It’s nighttime.”

“Well, yeah, there’s something weird about him,” Arwen replied. “He looks like a wolf, and he said that he was a wolf.”

“I’ve never heard of a wolf who didn’t shift involuntarily at nighttime,” Micah said, frowning hard.

“So you see,” the hunter interrupted, “she was carried off. We don’t have her here.” He approached the door again, jaw firmly set. “Now you have your answer, I must warn you for the last time: return through the portal and leave our territory.”

“This is not your territory!” Micah snarled.

“This land is under our surveillance and supervision,” the hunter said, before reaching into his pocket and drawing out an intercom device. “CCTV room. Assistance is required.” He spoke into it even as he drew up the glass window, locking himself inside.

A swarm of mutants came stampeding around the building toward us. Their razor beaks clacking, they launched into the air. I realized that there had been hunters running among them, gripping their leashes, now being lifted up with them. With shocking agility, the men swung themselves onto the mutants’ backs and rode them gracefully even without saddles. They drew out guns and, as they circled above us, began raining down bullets. The mutants opened their mouths and released sharp tongues of fire.

“Let’s not tempt fate,” Corrine murmured, her face scrunched up in concentration as she and the other witches kept the boundary up.

“I agree,” my grandfather said. “Vanish us outside the compound. There is nothing more to see here anyway… for now.”

W
e reappeared
in the midst of a thick dark wood, some miles away from the compound. Aside from Micah, others in our group had been to The Woodlands before, but everyone looked lost as they gazed around, even Micah.

“I can’t believe they’ve done this,” the wolf said, growling and shaking his head.

“We probably should’ve guessed this would be their next move,” my father said. “It’s just something that the IBSI would do.”

“Micah,” Vivienne said, returning our thoughts to the task at hand. “You know Victoria’s scent, right? Can you smell her anywhere?”

He began sniffing the air. “Not yet. But we’re still close to the compound. It’s possible they were still traveling through the trees at this point. If we keep scanning this area, I’ve got to pick up on her scent at some point. Wherever that wolf man—or whatever he was—was planning to take her, I doubt he would have traveled the whole way in the treetops. I guess just until he deemed it safe to touch down. Let’s keep moving.”

Micah positioned himself at the very front of the group, my father, grandparents, Vivienne and Xavier close behind. Then walked my mother, Rose and myself, followed by Ibrahim and Corrine, then Mona and the rest of the adults, right up to Jeriad, who hung at the back. He was in his dragon form. So far, the trees around us were fairly widely spaced apart, which meant that he could still walk without crashing into trunks.

I hung back a little, leaving my mother and Rose, as I wondered where my three friends were. I moved toward Jeriad and looked up to his back.
There they are.
Heath was seated behind his father’s neck, while Brock and Arwen sat further down Jeriad’s spine, near his tail. The couple were making out. Again.

“You want to come up?” Heath asked me.

“Yeah,” I said, about to attempt the climb myself, before Heath dropped to the ground beside me. He lowered himself, allowing me to slide onto his back before he climbed onto his father’s neck again and seated us.

“Thanks,” I said.

He smiled.
He looks so handsome when he smiles.

Wanting to distract myself from the rising temperature in my cheeks, I glanced back at Arwen and Brock. Following my gaze, Heath smirked. “Hey, Broccoli,” he called.

Refusing to part his lips from Arwen’s, Brock shoved up a middle finger at his best friend.

I giggled. Brock hated Heath calling him that almost as much as he hated the vegetable itself.

“You two should have stayed back,” Heath went on. “Seriously.”

Finally, Brock unglued his mouth from Arwen’s to murmur, “You’d be doing the same with Grace right now if you had the balls to ask her out.”

That shut Heath up. As I glanced at his face, I could’ve sworn I saw a blush creeping up his cheeks. I did not think that I had ever witnessed Heath blush. And was it just my imagination, or was he deliberately not looking at me?

He quickly regained composure, however. His eyes narrowed on Brock, casting him a hard glower, before turning back to me. His expression was dark as he muttered, “He will live to regret that comment. I assure you.”

I chuckled. We held each other’s gaze for a few moments before he glanced away again.

I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what Brock had meant by his comment. Did he think Heath liked me too, or was it just a convenient insult?

I shook the thought away. I analyzed things too much sometimes.

We became pretty quiet after that. Heath and I focused ahead, on Micah, leaving Arwen and Brock to themselves. The silence would have felt awkward had we not had such pressing matters on our minds.

Finally, Micah stopped short. “I’ve got her.”

“Thank goodness,” Vivienne said.

“I’m guessing that they touched down around here and then…” He continued moving forward. “It smells like they went this way.”

I heaved a sigh. I felt relieved that we had at least caught the start of Victoria’s trail, but I also felt daunted. Something told me that this was going to be a long, winding journey.

A
fter my agreement to
accompany Bastien, I had been expecting him to immediately pick me up again. Instead, he took a step back. Then, sinking to the ground, he crouched over on his knees and hands. His limbs began to shake and expand until his torn clothes burst from his ballooning form. His head widened and silky black fur started sprouting from every inch of his skin. Then his teeth lengthened, becoming razor-sharp. His hands and feet balled up as his legs took shape. The transformation complete, he lifted himself up onto all fours and I was met once again with his penetrating gaze. As a wolf, his gray eyes were larger, brighter, even more intense.

So this werewolf really can shift at will…

He padded up to me and nudged my hands with his head, guiding them to grip hold of the fur at the back of his neck. I acquiesced, sliding my fingers through his sleek hair. With two hands and one working leg, I managed to pull myself onto his back.

“Be sure to hold on tight, Lady Vaughn,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling.

“Uh, you can just call me Victoria,” I muttered. I gripped hold of him as tightly as I could before he launched into a sprint that knocked the breath out of me. As he bounded through the woods, low-hanging branches whipped past us, and I ducked down, pressing the side of my face against the back of his neck and closing my eyes, afraid to get injured. Pain shot through my ankle. This bumpy journey was the exact opposite of what it needed, but I had no choice but to grit my teeth and bear it. Hopefully when we got to his hideout, wherever that even was, I would have a chance to rest it.
What I really could use is some ice.

It seemed like an eternity had passed—certainly several hours—before we finally reached the edge of the woods and emerged into a wide open meadow filled with luscious-smelling, bright purple flowers I could not put a name to. Now that we were out of the dense woodland, I could see that dawn was on the cusp of breaking. The sky was streaked with the most breathtaking hues of pink and peach.

As Bastien continued to charge forward at breakneck speed, I wondered whether he ever needed a break. I got my answer once we had reached the other side of the meadow and entered yet another wood. We reached a river that ran through it and here he finally slowed to a stop. He lowered himself to the ground, allowing me to slide down onto a patch of grass by the bank. Even though my feet had not touched the ground once throughout the journey, every muscle in my body ached from the strain of clinging to him.

I flopped onto my back, panting. He left my side and approached the water. Dipping his head, he began to take long, deep gulps. That was when I became aware of just how dehydrated I was. Trying to move my ankle as little as possible, I crawled up to the edge of the river next to him before cupping my palms and scooping up water. It didn’t even cross my mind to wonder how clean this water was before swallowing. But now that I examined it more closely, I had never seen such pristine, sparkling water. And it tasted so pure, it was almost sweet.

I chugged down as much water as my stomach could take before letting out a slow breath. Bastien finished drinking and waded into the water. The current looked pretty wild toward the center of the river—I certainly would never dare to swim that deep, even if my ankle was not injured—but for Bastien, it was like taking a dip in a wading pool.

He sank into the current and I lost sight of him for several moments before he resurfaced and shook out his heavy mane, sending water raining in all directions. Then he paused to cast a glance my way.

“Are you hungry?” he called.

Hungry?
My stomach could do with some food, but I really had no appetite. I shook my head.

Bastien grunted. “Neither am I,” he confessed. “But we ought to eat nonetheless.”

He submerged again and this time when he came to the surface he was gripping what I thought at first sight was an odd, bulbous eel. But as he made his way back to me and climbed out of the water, I realized that it was some kind of slimy weed, the strangest weed I’d ever seen. It was long, rubbery and milky white. Translucent bulbs protruded from it every few millimeters, the size of plums, filled with a mucousy liquid. He laid it down on the grass and gestured to it with his nose.

I looked at it suspiciously. “What is this exactly?”

“River weed.”

Yeah, I gathered that.

“River weed is good to eat when you don’t feel like eating. It gives strength without weighing down.”

Still, I hesitated, feeling less hungry than ever as I eyed the strange, gooey weed.

When I glanced up at Bastien again, I was taken aback by a look of intense concern in his eyes, the type of concern a nurturing parent would give an underfed child. I frowned at him, wondering why he was giving me such a stare. “What?” I asked.

“You should eat it,” he said, now moving his head forward and nudging my hands with the tip of his nose again, guiding them toward the plant. The same way he had guided them to the fur behind his neck several hours ago.

“All right,” I said, even as I gulped. “Is it these bubbles that I’m supposed to eat?”

“The glands, yes.”

Glands…
I preferred my description.

Gingerly, I closed my fingers around one of the bulbs at the tip and jerked it upward. It plucked off easily, like a ripe peach from a tree.

“You can eat it all,” he encouraged, still watching me closely.

I held my nose before quickly stuffing it into my mouth. I didn’t want to prolong this any further. As I chewed, the bubble’s rubbery surface burst and the snotty substance filled my mouth. I expected it to taste disgusting, but it didn’t taste like much at all. Just… slightly salty. It was more the texture of it as it glided down my throat.

Still, my wolf companion was not satisfied. He nudged my hands again to pluck another one, and then another, and another. Until I had eaten five in total.

“Ugh,” I spluttered, swallowing the last mouthful. “That’s enough.” I crawled back to the river to down some more water. When I turned, it was to see Bastien had taken the whole strand in his mouth, along with all the remaining bulbs, and chewed it all down in one go. Then he joined me for another drink.

I was not sure whether it was just my imagination, but I could’ve sworn that I felt more energized. I was about to ask him what was next when I caught sight of his face. He’d frozen, his ears perked up, and his eyes fixed on the trees behind us.

Fear rushed through me that he might’ve just spotted hunters, or even worse, one of their mutants. But then, a few seconds later, three brown wolves burst from the trees.

Bastien immediately surged forward, positioning himself in front of me as he growled and bared his fangs.

“What are you doing here?” Bastien snarled.

“On patrol for conniving hunters roaming our lands,” one of the intruders shot back. “What are you doing with one of them?”

Oh, crap. They think I’m a hunter.
My uniform certainly did not help.

“She is not one of them,” Bastien hissed, the hair on his back prickling.

“Who else would she be?” another wolf growled, stepping forward. He had a wide scar slashed across his right eye.

“She is just a girl!” Bastien insisted.

The brown wolves were done with talking. To my horror, the three of them leapt toward us at once. With a strong thrust of his hind legs, Bastien sent me skidding across the grass and rolling into the river. The current immediately tugged me away, but I managed to grip the thick root of a tree that jutted out from the bank. I was safer down here than up there as Bastien took on the three wolves at once. He gnashed and thrashed with his jaws and claws, and although outnumbered, he was clearly the strongest of the four. In a blur of black and brown, one of the attacking wolves let out a groan of pain and darted backward. Where his right ear had been was a gaping wound dripping with blood. Bastien had torn it right off.

This caused the other two to cower back a bit.

“I said she is just a girl,” Bastien seethed.

They looked anything but convinced—still baring their teeth and growling—but it was clear that it was an empty threat. The injured one did not want to lose a second ear, and the other two did not want to lose a first. Besides, they would become men any time now. Day was on the verge of breaking. Slowly, they backed away into the trees. Then they turned around and scampered off.

I had expected my ankle to be positively burning by now. Although rolling and falling into the river had roughed it up, now that my legs were underwater, the cool water flowing against my ankle was soothing. Bastien bounded to the water’s edge, his eyes searching for me. On spotting me, he waded into the river and arrived next to me, allowing me to grip hold of his fur. Now that we were up close, I realized he hadn’t gotten away unscathed. He had a nasty gash in his shoulder, but he did not seem to notice as he returned with me to the bank. Then he said in a low voice, “Now, we must keep moving.”