Chapter 2: The Near Future, Los Angeles

Chapter 2: The Near Future, Los Angeles

It was that time of day when the world pauses at the dividing line between day and night, that quiet time when light fades and stars dare to appear. The rush of the day creatures becomes hushed, while the night creatures have not yet claimed the world as theirs. But not all. One night creature dares to venture forth in fading heat of summer twilight.

She is tall, slender and moves with an animal grace as she prowls the empty street. A distant hum comes from the freeway, still overloaded with people rushing to their homes. The concrete highways of Los Angeles are never empty. The hum varies but is a constant backdrop to the crowded land perched by the Pacific. This predator’s animal instincts ignore those noises not necessary to the hunt. She knows that these streets are not as empty as they seem. Life hides behind the brick walls and concrete barriers. She can almost hear the blood rushing through the veins of her prey and licks her lips.

The soft click-clack of high-heeled boots rushes ahead of her down the street to announce her coming. Long tresses as dark as the blackest midnight hang down almost to her waist, matched by the black leather of the tight pants she wears. A silky blouse of ebony helps this creature of the night blend into the lengthening shadows. Hunger has driven her out into the open, a hunger deep within her blood, a hunger that no mere food can satisfy.

She knows it would have been better to wait until darkness has totally claimed the world, but it has been too many days since she feasted last, and hunger overcame caution.

Suddenly she freezes. There is life near; she can sense it. But there is something else, something uncertain. Her dark eyes scan the shadows. There – beyond that wall she can almost smell the overpowering scent of blood. Still there is something else. A presence? An animal? It is almost the same feeling she has felt when a pack of wild dogs was near. Yet not the same.

But there is no mistaking the scent of blood. It calls to her, an ancient call her race cannot ignore. She begins moving again, slowly, cautiously but ever nearer to that hot scent. A rusted gate hangs askew in a driveway, and just beyond lies what her body craves. Moving silently now, she enters the enclosure filled with abandoned machinery and rusting vechiles. A part of her instinct tells her something is wrong but she pushes it down. What has she to fear? She is a powerful creature of the night, a predator, not prey. She fears nothing.

There is a man there. A bum, perhaps a wino, an derelict cast aside by society, living only for the next bottle of cheap wine that will help him forget. She approaches. He is lying by a brick wall, huddled in ragged, foul clothing. He sleeps the sleep of the one addicted to alcohol, she can sense. Easy prey. Not that it will be much of a fight if he were awake and aware of the death coming for him. A vigorous, healthy man cannot resist her. There will be no contest here, but there will be the draining of his lifeblood to satisfy her hunger…

Perhaps the hunger blinded her normal caution. All she could feel was that pulsing crimson fluid. Her lips parted to reveal two fangs. Not huge fangs, but sharp and just as deadly as those of the biggest hunting cat.

Only steps from the bum, the attack came as a surprise to her. Suddenly there was a noise, and then something descended over her. Instinct drove away the hunger but it was too late to fight or flee. The net covered her, forcing her to the concrete. Strong hands pulled the rope-work and she felt herself being dragged away from her intended prey. Then those hands held her down as two male bodies pressed against her.

She turned her head to attack with a hypnotic force no man could resist. She would soon have these stupid men cringing with fear as she forced her will into their minds. Then she would feast on stronger blood!

But it was all wrong. A foul-smelling cloth was pressed against her face through the net. Surprise registered in her mind as her thoughts began to become unfocused. These were not men! Not humans. As vision and consciousness faded, she knew why she had not detected her attackers. And why her mind could not overpower puny human minds.

Her last thought was the realization that these were the ancient enemies: werewolves!