Spell of the Werewolf by J R Loveless

Author:J R Loveless
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: J.R. Loveless Publishing
Published: 2020-05-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Vincent woke to the sound of someone pounding on his front door. He sat up and raked a hand through his hair, shaking it out, before he climbed from the bed to answer it. The red-headed feisty woman who’d slapped him only a matter of days ago barged into his apartment. “Justin needs your help,” she snarled.

He blinked at her, still hazy from disrupted sleep. “What?”

“I said, Justin needs your help!” Kara rounded on him, hands on her hips. “Please, you have to help him!”

“Tell me what’s going on first, and then I’ll tell you if I’m going to help him.”

A sliver of fear for Justin trickled through him when she described the conversation she’d had with him and the loud crashing noise in the background. He rubbed at his bare chest, right over his heart. Did he actually care for Justin?

Halfway through Kara’s story, he started dressing. He pulled on a pair of tight black jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt with a faded logo of some band on it. She’d finished by the time he’d slid into his combat boots and laced them up. Everything she’d relayed worried him, but the fact she’d heard an obvious attack happening before the phone went dead scared the hell out of him.

“You’re going to help him?” she asked.

Vincent grabbed a duffle bag and started filling it with guns, silver bullets, a couple of small crossbows, silver tipped arrows, and a change of clothing. “I’m going to stop the werewolves. Helping Justin is merely part of a common goal we share.”

He hefted the bag off the bed, snatched up the two silver swords, and wrenched open his door.

“Wait!” she called to him.

He stopped and looked at her impatiently. The need to find Justin and ensure no harm had come to the werewolf rode him hard. “What?”

“No matter why you’re helping him… Thank you.” With that simple statement, she brushed past him and left.

Vincent didn’t waste another second, heading to the parking garage and the sleek black Dodge Challenger waiting for him. He tossed his weapons in the trunk and climbed in. The engine started with a deep growl, echoing off the cement pillars. In minutes he’d exited the garage and was on his way out of the city. Out on the empty open road, he pushed the gas, and the needle edged closer to a hundred with each increasing mile. He prayed he wasn’t too late.

With purpose in mind, it only took a couple of hours to reach the address Kara had given him. The sun hadn’t risen just yet, and the hotel residents appeared to still be slumbering; even the desk clerk had nodded off at the front. Vincent didn’t see any evidence of police having been called in, and he grimaced at the idea the wolves had gotten hold of other spells, like the ones the hunters used to hide the fighting and killing they did. It was the only thing that made sense if the humans hadn’t heard the ruckus Kara had described.

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