Waking Up Dead (The Western Werewolf Legend #1) Read online

  Only minutes remained before Perkins’ men arrived at her doorstep. Before panic shredded what was left of her composure, she took a deep breath as she fingered the medallion around her neck.

  Tyler had given her the medallion on the eve of his court martial. The deserter charges against him were false. To prove such would put both their lives in jeopardy though. The truth behind his disappearance from his confederate detail had nothing to do with desertion and everything to do with love. Therefore, such knowledge needed to remain between the two of them. Because if the Vampires found out Sonja had used an unorthodox elixir – her blood – the blood of werewolf legend to heal Tyler, they were all in grave danger. Her blood was something the Yankee vampires would love to get their hands.

  When the Rebels had charged him with desertion and attempted to court martial her lover, Sonja had saved him once more using yet another part of her gift – the ability to shift into a werewolf. She’d surprised the Confederates, including Major General, Jeb Stewart with a valiant daytime rescue of her handsome lieutenant. Smiling to herself, Sonja remembered the feeling of being clad in only her skin and fur.

  Sonja clutched the medallion in her hand and remembered Ty had promised her they’d leave as soon as he found his missing men, those captured by the Yankee vampires. Hoping he had found them quickly, she remembered Hortence speaking of her gift, explaining she was the start, the beginning of a new world order, the order of the Western Werewolf. At the time, Sonja cared little for this information, being preoccupied as she was with surviving.

  She glanced out the window as the vibration of horse hooves grew stronger. “Damn you, Ty. Why’d you have to leave me like this?” she asked the empty bedroom. A small footstool garnered her abuse as Sonja kicked out. One tear trickled down her face. She glanced down the road to actually see Perkins troop growing ever closer. Her heart stopped for a second.

  Turning from the window, Sonja rushed about gathering the oil lamps scattered about the cabin. Since the lamps contained coal oil, they were highly combustible and would serve the purpose she had in mind. Hopefully, Hortence’s spell would last long enough. Sonja shook her head when her thoughts strayed to the old witch. The woman came and went as she pleased. Without information like, how long one of her spells would protect Sonja and her small cottage, Hortence had simply vanished into thin air earlier the same morning, leaving Sonja alone. Perhaps the entire thing was a test. Yes, Sonja mused as she doused the walls with coal oil. A test to prove her worth, she mused. Well, by the Gods, she’d show them!

  Though irritated at the old hag’s behavior, she had to admit, she would’ve been hard pressed to fight vampires effectively without concern over the old woman’s safety had she remained. It was best she was gone.

  The concern over what she might do when she shifted into the wolf always plagued her. Never sure if she harmed an innocent or did something she would regret, while in the Lycan state, she would always come back to herself and seek out any and all to make sure of their well-being.

  Despite the danger, the one thing Sonja never concerned herself with was her prowess as a killer. Her skill would protect her from harm. Once the wolf was upon her, she relied on her sense of right and wrong in destroying her enemies.

  Sonja stepped to her front door and glanced east and west. One way in and one way out for everyone involved in their little get-together. The swamp formed her property line to the west while the hills of Spotsylvania flanked her land to the east. If she chose the path to town, she would blend and move undeterred among the humans. Yet, she couldn’t expose them to the vampires. “Among the humans…” The words sounded strange to her tongue. When had she made the delineation between herself and those she’d lived with all her life?

  The answer came in clipped notes of warning - when she’d acquired ‘the gift’. Her subconscious always seemed ready with a comeback these days.

  Tilting her head toward the breeze, she sniffed, testing the air around her. The smell of death grew stronger. The stench always heralded the vampires' arrival. Soon, she’d face those who coveted the blood flowing through her veins – the blood of legend – the blood, which held the future for her kind. Werewolves would survive because of her, or so she’d been told. Hortence had emphasized the fact time and again, always instructing her in the ways of the wolf. Again reminded of her responsibility, the one she, Sonja Brooks faced on a daily basis, the she-wolf squared her shoulders. So if she was the future, gun or no gun with wooden bullets or not, she would dominate the day, rise to victory, and single handedly stop the vampires’ latest attack.

  Calmer now, Sonja’s resolve grew stronger. If she must fight the vermin, she vowed to allow them nothing of her former self as bounty. Turning from the front door, she finished dousing the cabin’s interior with the lamp oil. She paused when she reached the bed where she and Ty had made love only hours before, closing her eyes for a moment. The gift’s recall was excellent, complete with physical sensations to the point of torture. On a silent oath, she wheeled as the bed went up in flames. Never looking back, she stalked to the front door and out on the porch to meet her guests.

  ***

  Emerging from the shadows of the burned off mist, a magnificent jet-black horse gave a snort. He halted shy of the sun reaching his rider’s legs. With a jerk of his head, as if announcing his presence, the stallion snorted and pawed the hard packed ground. The great animal pranced in place with a smooth utterance from his master.

  “Mrs. Brooks, we meet again.” Perkins’ low, calm voice crept along her skin like an unwelcome sexual advance.

  “Hello, Major. You’re looking good for a dead man.” Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on the men with Perkins. She squared her shoulders as several snickers erupted behind him. Sonja made sure she showed no reaction to their amusement other than the narrowing of her eyes on Perkins who scowled at her jab. She ignored him, as she wasn’t in a joking mood.

  He appeared no different than he had at their last encounter. Perkins rode a dusky gray Dapple with black socks. His uniform bore the embellishment of an officer. His rank as a major in the Union Army gave him a perfect cover for his death dealings. Those not of his kind suspected nothing of his true identity as a right-hand lackey to the coven’s leader. Perkins’ jet-black hair framed his thin face with a pointed chin. His pallor was milk white with gray undertones. Coal black eyes rested soullessly in their sockets on either side of a prominent but straight nose. The cavalry hat sitting jauntily atop his head was clean and the U.S. Army insignia gleamed in brass laced by gold braid. Vampires did enjoy their dress blues.

  He shifted slightly, sitting taller in the saddle and stretched to square his shoulders, probably in defense of her innuendo.

  Being over six feet tall, he sat the horse admirably. Most tall, skinny chaps presented a gangly, awkward mount. Not Perkins – who, even now, ran a cool eye over Sonja. How she despised him.

  “As you might recall, I seem to have run into a bit of difficulty during our last meeting, but I overcame your pathetic little attempt at destroying me.” With those words, he eased his ramrod posture before settling over the elbow he rested on the saddle horn as his eyes narrowed on her.

  Sonja smiled at the reminder of their last encounter. She’d ripped the head and backbone from his flesh. Apparently, vampires regenerated quite well. He appeared whole and hearty to her.

  The heartless major smirked. “You should realize by now, you’ll never be rid of me — or us for that matter, wolf girl.”

  The sneer in his tone made her wolf want to pounce.

  “You can try and we can perform the dance again and again, but you’ll lose, and in the end, I’ll have what I came for – what I’m destined to have – your blood.”

  “You, sir, are delusional if you think you’ll ever defeat me or my clan. We will survive and live for all eternity long after the rotting carcasses of you and the vermin with you are but the stench of a memory.” She sniffed the air with disgust. The smell of burning wood l
ay heavy in the morning mist. Sonja hesitated.

  With a wrinkle of her nose, she flicked a glance back as fire leapt from the window behind her. Though her heart constricted, Sonja refused to let it show. Rather, with an ease of grace, she reached out toward the flames with the pine knot in her hand. The fire licked greedily at the wooden stick before catching with an audible whoosh. With the pine knot aflame, Sonja held the torch in front of her. The flames cast a yellowish glow on the vampires seated inside the shadows of the great cypress trees flanking either side of the dirt path. Their pallor reflected in their pupils like a yellow-fever victim’s sentence shown in their stricken eyes.

  Some of the vermin hissed. A couple even threw up a hand to shield themselves from the potential predator of bloodsuckers – fire!

  “Fear not, men. This Lycan is no different from the rest. There is no sorcery or witchcraft hidden within the folds of her skirts. Her truth isn’t cloaked in the unknown. She is a beast that walks on four legs and spreads not those legs for her mate to mount her but bears his weight atop her rump as any whore would do.”

  “Lucifer’s own,” Sonja murmured. With about as much of the demon’s words as she could stand, she squared her stance and readied for battle. “Come and get it, bastards!” she shouted. Stepping out into the meager light of the pale sun shrouded in veils of fog, she stood silently waiting.

  Perkins flicked a glance her way. Within his eyes, there lay the answer to her challenge. They would tangle once more and she relished in the prospect.

  Sonja’s grin turned wicked as she lunged for him even as Perkins met her attack with skilled, lighting quick movement. So close, their breaths mingled, they grappled. His sickly stench permeated the air. The vampire managed to wrap his hands around her neck, squeezing the air from her lungs. His clothing began to smolder as the sun’s rays hit his back. Soon the smell of scorched decay filled the air. His grip eased. The breath quickly rushed back into her lungs. Sonja didn’t have much time to sound an alarm. Throwing back her head to the hazy sky, Sonja’s howl rose in the mist and floated on the damp breeze. Those bound by werewolf blood. Hopefully, the pack would heed her call and come.

  Perkins thrust with a silver dagger.

  She countered with a block of his forearms, thrusting upward and out. A cleansing breath and she rebased for the next thrust of his blade. Steadying her stance, fists in front of her face, as Ty had taught her, she rested lightly on the balls of her feet. The fighting stance, as her lover called the position, reminded her of dangling from an invisible rope operated by an unseen puppeteer. Willing the errant image to the back of her consciousness, she focused instead on thwarting the vampire’s next move. Her senses, already in tune with her surroundings, began to heighten. A tingling of sorts set up in her joints and muscles. The signs of the change began and Sonja strained to control her body as her body shifted into that of a werewolf. Hair sprang along the ridge of her backbone, claws shot out from her fingertips, which now resembled stubby paws. The pain alone of a temper born shift was excruciating and for a fleeting second, Sonja considered what Ty dealt with on a regular basis. Dropping to all fours, she shook her white mane trimmed in silver and glowered at the vermin standing before her. Fire sizzled in her eyes, the sensation a stark reminder of how fragile she was in a half state of transformation. From blazing gold eyes she surveyed her prey. Imitating a low menacing growl, she didn’t pause to ask herself if she was ready for the hatred she read in his eyes.

  The vampire sprang at her with gnarled fingernails splayed in attack mode. He scratched at her face aiming to blind her. Sonja with only seconds to react as the downward thrust of Perkins talons drew blood. Blocking in time, she managed to halt his advance. “What? You will not give me the chance to shift, bloodsucker?”

  He snarled and spat near her hind legs, exposing his yellowed teeth as fangs sprang forth to hang menacingly over his lip. Twisting, he threw up a forearm to counter her return blow. Dropping low under the horse’s neck, Perkins leapt once more with ferocity. His cold, dead eyes bore into hers. With the little magic he possessed, he tried to hypnotize her.

  Sonja dodged the lunge. “So, you’ll try your pitiful attempts at a spell, huh, Perkins? Hum, too bad.” Wheeling, she balanced on her hands and raising both legs, flung her heels squarely at his head.

  Stumbling back, he regrouped.

  “Come on, you bastard, come and get me,” she growled in her wolfish tone. The sound of bones cracking, cloth ripping and snarls surrounded the two adversaries. She paced out of reach of Perkins’ blade until the pain of the transformation ended. Her blood surged through her warding off the vampire’s power, whose dark magic fizzled weakly in the werewolf’s presence.

  With the change complete, Sonja lunged for his throat, snarling and snapping with her displeasure. She managed to shove him back sending him hurtling into the midst of his men.

  Engulfed by the bodies of the agitated cavalry mounts, Perkins growled and the ground shook. “Take her, you fools!”

  The command set the vampires in motion.

  Grappling with the surge of Yankee blue charging her position, Sonja countered, blocking and in turn ripped flesh right and left. Over the screams, came Perkins’ laughter. The sound of his sickly amusement made her blood boil. A glimpse up showed him seated in a tall oak watching the c at work.

  Slowly rising like a resurrected saint, he hovered above the second wave of gnashing, wonton vultures on horseback. With a benevolent sweep of his arms as if bored with the whole affair, Perkins gave the order, “Seize her.” The bloodsucking soldiers wasted no time in attacking.

  Sonja, the she-wolf struck out, delivering blow after blow.

  The skills Ty had drilled into her came naturally, as she struck with an attack of her own. Her small human feet wouldn’t have been much use against the vampires’ vicious fingernails and teeth, but fur covered paws with razor sharp talons proved more of a challenge for Perkins’ men. Striking the first vampire she encountered across the cheek, she drew blood, a minor flesh wound, but enough to raise the stakes. With a nearby limb, she used all her strength as she plunged the wooden dagger deep into his chest. His eyes vacant and brittle dropped atop the heap of dust at her feet. The other advancing bloodsuckers didn’t pause.

  As she struck out again with renewed force and prowess, the vampires went on the offense.

  “Don’t worry, mates, dying will be a boon for such as you,” she told the snarling, hissing bloodsuckers. With two more down, she caught the movement of another out of the corner of her eye. The third vampire caught her along the ribs. The wound wasn’t deep, irritating more than anything. She didn’t want to share even the first drop of her blood with these vile coffin robbers. Blow after blow sent the vamps falling one by one until Sonja stood alone amidst the bloody clearing.

  Resembling a vulture waiting for the last deathblow, Perkins hovered out of reach until only the two of them remained.

  “I knew it would come down to you and me, my dear.” His fangs showed gray in the pearly mist swirling about them. Slowly he transformed into his true self, the horrid scales and ashen hide of the vampire’s original form. With eyes heavily hooded and bloody red, Perkins turned into the skeleton remains of an ancient fallen angel. Taters of sackcloth hung from his boney frame as the predator rose off the field, floating mere inches above the ground. “You see, I know everything, one of the strengths provided me by my considerable age.” Flicking a long nailed finger of sickly gray at her, he taunted her with words. “Your training and tutelage are minuscule to my edification over the centuries. After a demonstration, I’m sure you’ll agree.” With a tap of one finger against his cheek, he smirked. “It’s such a pity I can’t keep you as a pet.” His eyes glowed red as his words slurred. He continued to turn into his truest form - the spawn of Hell, and as he did, he grinned baring all six rows of fangs. “You understand, my dear, you’re worth more to me dead than as my lackey.” His eyes flashed like red embers deep in the sunken sockets of
his grotesque face. With features contorting, he transformed into a creature so void of life, Sonja could find nothing of the major remaining.

  Apparently, Perkins didn’t know of the powers contained in her blood, not yet. Watching the creature sway back and forth in abject demonic defiance, Sonja grinned devilishly. “Listen, Perkins.” She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “The hollows of Hell are calling. You’ve only to take a step over here and I will send you home.”

  “Not before I get what I came for.” His voice rasped over his tongue. Flicking out his tongue to sweep over his fangs in sickening anticipation, he hissed at her.

  Stepping into the light from the sun, Sonja smiled knowingly. For Perkins to follow her would mean the beginning of his demise. “Take a step, you reject from oblivion.”

  Perkins staring back took her breath. Doing her best not to give away her plan, Sonja eased into the light. If she could just get him to step out into the light, she could destroy him and all those who followed after.

  Perkins did, indeed, forgot himself and followed. It was enjoyable to see smoke seep from his booted foot. “I will have it now!” His last words uttered as his right foot caught fire, Perkins lifted off the ground, rising upward over her head. In the mist, the major’s foot sputtered and went out. His eyes turned red as he centered all his energy and dove out of the mist directly for her.

  “As the sunlight seeps through the trees…” Sonja bit her lip in frustration. “While the vampire smolders, seize…” Her brow furrowed as her head pounded with the effort to remember the words. Oh, what a time to forget Hortence’s spell! Sonja brushed her snout with the back of her paw. The old witch had shared the magic with her only the night before.

  Perkins’ gray nails skimmed her forearms. Pain seared her wolf’s flesh as she shoved the broken words of the spell to the back of her mind. Avoiding yet another blow, she leaped sideways into the air. White fur flew through the air as the vampire’s claws left their mark.