Howling Dead

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4Kira found herself trembling as she stared at the message. Watch Your Back And Stay Indoors On Full Moons. What sick bastard would email her that? Somebody who knew that she had been attacked a month ago? Someone who knew her email address?

She looked at the email address again.

Wolfbane@den-wolfpack.com was the sender and the recipient was the same. A classic setup for spammers. Looking at the IP addresses, Kira could tell that the address was forged. She recognized a few of the paths coming from Intermountain Telecom, but that was no surprise. As an ISP — Internet Service Provider — they owned a piece of the Internet backbone. The mail could have come from anywhere.

She let the mouse hover over the delete button on her mail browser, but then changed her mind and saved the message to a folder. She didn’t feel like tracing it right now and she had more important things to do. Namely, find a job.

She entered the website address for Dominoes Pizza online and ordered a medium with pepperoni and mushrooms before returning to the Denver Post website. Entering a few choice keywords, Kira looked for a UNIX Systems Administrator job.

“Shit.” Three ads from last Sunday popped up on the screen. One was an ad with a post office box; the other was an ad for “bettering one’s career.” The third required Oracle database and PeopleSoft — two skills Kira didn’t have. A buzz in the intercom broke her from her reverie. Dominoes arrived and Kira left to pay for the pizza.

“It’s time,” said Alaric softly to himself as he stood in the doorway and looked into the nights sky. He could feel the pull of the moon — as he had for countless years before. Each year — each tens of years, each century — made him more resistant to its power. But its power still held sway over him. Inevitably, he could not resist the call of Hecate.

Hecate, Diana, Artemis, Luna, Selene, Chandra — the goddess went by thousands of names, both known and unknown to Normals. But she was also a he — Mani, Thoth, Mah, Sin — and countless other male names as well. Not even Alaric knew all the names.

According to the legends handed down from werewolf to werewolf over generations, it was Artemis who first granted the wolf his sentience. At the time, Alaric’s people called the moon Mani — a male god — and yet, Alaric had always thought of the deity as a she. Fickle, the goddess changed with the days, exerting her pull on the oceans and those who had come from them so long ago.

A curse to some and a power to others, being a shapeshifter had been his life for as many moons as he could remember. The goddess had given him power — great power — and yet that power came with a price. Whether he chose to or not, he had to become a wolf when Hecate danced full overhead.

Alaric felt a pang of guilt as he remembered that there was one who would change this night for the first time. He had not caught the murderer that night, and had only had hints of his whereabouts since. The girl would not know what had happened to her and would be alone tonight. He had to find her first.

A lone howl echoed through the canyons of Denver. They were no longer canyons of sage and scrub, but of concrete, glass, and steel. How far was this from his homeland? He closed his eyes and tried to remember the smell of the sea; its bitter tang in his mouth. He let the transformation take him.

Alaric had done it countless times before. He couldn’t remember the last time the transmutation actually hurt him. Maybe it never had. He could feel certain bones elongating and others shortening. His skin grew fur as his nose and mouth lengthened and became a snout. When he was done, he was in his wolf form.

A howl issued from his throat and he trotted into the back alley and into the street. He had to find the girl before the murderer found her and finished the job.