Chapter 3
1378 Words
Chapter 3: TEETH AND TRUTH
Rwanda led Kevin off the Riverwalk and into a part of Chicago that didn’t appear on tourist maps.
The streets narrowed, buildings leaning closer together as if whispering secrets. Old brick warehouses squatted beside newer glass structures, their reflections warped and uneasy. Kevin noticed how the air changed here, thicker, charged. Sounds felt muted, swallowed by something unseen.
“This area’s neutral ground,” Rwanda said as they walked. “Technically.”
Kevin snorted. “That doesn’t sound reassuring.”
“It isn’t meant to be.”
They stopped in front of what looked like a condemned bookstore, its windows boarded, its sign faded beyond recognition. A rusted bell hung crookedly above the door.
“This is where you teach me to survive?” Kevin asked. “Because it looks like the opening scene of a horror movie.”
Rwanda pushed the door open without answering.
Inside, the smell hit him first, old paper, dust, iron, and something sharp beneath it all. The interior was far larger than the exterior suggested. Shelves stretched impossibly high, ladders bolted to rails along the walls. Candles burned without melting, their flames steady and blue-white.
Kevin stepped inside slowly. “Okay. That’s… not normal.”
“Nothing about this world is,” Rwanda replied, closing the door behind them. The bell never rang.
She shrugged out of her coat and draped it over a chair that Kevin swore hadn’t been there a second ago. Beneath it, she wore fitted black clothes that moved easily, built for speed rather than elegance.
“This place belongs to no one,” she continued. “Which is why it still exists.”
Kevin ran a hand through his hair. “So what happens now? You give me a crash course in supernatural warfare?”
“Yes,” Rwanda said calmly. “And no.”
She gestured toward the center of the room. A wide circle had been etched into the wooden floor, symbols carved deep, filled with something dark and dried.
Kevin’s instincts screamed.
“What is that?” he asked.
“A truth circle,” Rwanda said. “You won’t like it.”
He folded his arms. “I’m sensing a pattern here.”
She stepped into the circle. The air shimmered faintly around her, like heat rising off asphalt.
“Step in,” she said.
Kevin hesitated. “Does it hurt?”
Rwanda smiled faintly. “Only if you lie.”
“Fantastic.” He exhaled and stepped forward.
The moment his foot crossed the boundary, pressure wrapped around his chest. Not painful, just heavy. Honest. His pulse thudded in his ears.
Rwanda’s eyes sharpened. “Say your name.”
“Kevin,” he said. Easy.
“Say what you are.”
Kevin opened his mouth, and froze.
The pressure intensified.
“I’m… a wolf,” he forced out.
The circle pulsed, then settled.
Rwanda nodded. “Good. Now say what you fear.”
Kevin’s stomach dropped. “That’s not fair.”
“The circle doesn’t care about fair.”
He swallowed. The wolf inside him stirred, uneasy.
“I fear,” he said slowly, “that I’ll lose control. That I’ll hurt someone. That whatever I am… will destroy what little life I have.”
The pressure eased.
Rwanda stepped closer, her voice quieter now. “And what do you want?”
Kevin didn’t hesitate this time. “Answers.”
The circle flared once, then went still.
Rwanda stepped out first. “You pass,” she said.
Kevin staggered back, heart racing. “That thing should come with a warning label.”
“It did,” she replied. “You asked.”
She moved to one of the shelves and pulled out a book bound in dark leather. It looked ancient, its spine cracked, pages yellowed.
“This world,” she said, holding it up, “runs on rules. Not laws, rules. Blood remembers them even when minds forget.”
She placed the book on a table and opened it. The pages were filled with symbols Kevin didn’t recognize, interspersed with drawings of wolves, moons, and crowns.
“Wolves,” Rwanda continued, “are bound to lineage and land. Vampires are bound to blood and memory. Hybrids, ” She paused, eyes flicking to him. “, are bound to conflict.”
Kevin frowned. “Hybrids?”
“Rare,” she said carefully. “Dangerous. Usually hunted to extinction.”
“Great,” Kevin muttered. “Add that to the nightmare pile.”
Rwanda studied him. “Your wolf didn’t awaken because Elena allowed it. It awakened because something older than her stirred.”
Kevin felt a chill. “Older than the Wolf Queen?”
“Yes.”
She turned a page, revealing a symbol etched deep into the parchment, a circle split by claw marks and fangs intertwined.
“This is the Mark of Convergence,” Rwanda said. “It appears before wars that reshape the supernatural order.”
Kevin leaned closer despite himself. “And you think that has something to do with me?”
“I think,” Rwanda said, “that your existence is inconvenient to very powerful beings.”
A low growl echoed through the shop.
Kevin spun, muscles tensing. “That wasn’t me.”
Rwanda was already moving.
The candles flickered violently as the front door creaked open. The air filled with the unmistakable scent of blood, fresh, sharp, aggressive.
Three figures stepped inside.
Vampires.
They wore modern clothes, leather jackets, boots, but their eyes glowed faintly red, hunger barely restrained. One of them smiled, revealing elongated canines.
“Well,” he drawled. “Looks like the rumors were true.”
Rwanda positioned herself subtly in front of Kevin. “You’re trespassing,” she said coolly.
The vampire laughed. “Neutral ground doesn’t apply when Aether calls.”
Kevin’s heart slammed. “They’re here for me,” he whispered.
“Yes,” Rwanda said softly. “And me.”
The tallest vampire tilted his head. “You’ve been difficult to track, Rwanda. The Master will be pleased.”
She sighed. “He always says that.”
The first attack came fast.
One vampire lunged, blurring across the room. Kevin barely registered Rwanda’s movement, she was there, then not, then suddenly the vampire was airborne, slammed into a shelf with bone-shattering force.
Books exploded outward.
Another vampire rushed Kevin.
Instinct took over.
Kevin ducked as claws slashed where his head had been. His body moved without thought, strength flooding his limbs. He drove his shoulder into the vampire’s chest, sending them crashing into a table.
The wolf roared inside him.
“Kevin!” Rwanda shouted. “Control!”
He snarled, teeth lengthening despite himself. The pressure of the truth circle still lingered in his bones, anchoring him, barely.
The third vampire circled, eyes gleaming. “Oh, this one’s fun.”
Rwanda’s eyes burned crimson now. She moved like a shadow, her strike precise, lethal. In seconds, one vampire lay motionless, neck twisted at an impossible angle.
The second tried to flee.
Rwanda caught him.
She slammed him against the wall, forearm crushing his throat. “Tell Aether,” she hissed, “that I am done hiding.”
The vampire choked out a laugh. “He already knows.”
Rwanda snapped his neck.
Silence fell, broken only by Kevin’s ragged breathing.
He looked down at his hands. They were shaking, but not with fear.
With exhilaration.
Rwanda turned to him slowly, eyes searching his face. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” he said. “But I almost, ”
“I know,” she said.
They stared at each other, the weight of what had just happened settling between them.
“They’ll come back,” Kevin said.
“Yes,” Rwanda replied. “In greater numbers.”
Kevin swallowed. “Then teach me. Really teach me.”
A slow, dangerous smile spread across Rwanda’s face.
“Careful, wolf,” she said. “If you walk this path, there’s no turning back.”
Kevin met her gaze, the wolf steady now, awake and watching.
“Good,” he said. “I was never good at running.”
Far away, deep beneath Chicago, Aether smiled.
And beside him, Elena’s laughter echoed through the halls of bone.
- Writer
