Chapter 17
Ethan awoke with a jolt, his body slick with sweat. He'd barely slept, the same relentless dream tormenting him—a blaze of fire and a shadowy wolf with glowing eyes that seemed to peer into his soul. His mind churned with thoughts of confronting Ryan, the promise of answers pulling him forward despite the dread gnawing at his insides. Today was the day he'd finally uncover what had happened to him during that strange ritual, or so he hoped—if Ryan wasn't leading him into a trap.
The room was dim, the early morning light seeping through the curtains in faint, gray slivers. Ethan dragged himself out of bed, his muscles aching as if he'd run a marathon in his sleep. He stumbled to the bathroom, the cold tiles biting his bare feet, and splashed water on his face. The icy sting sharpened his senses, though it couldn't wash away the unease coiling in his stomach. He dressed in a hurry—jeans, a worn hoodie—grabbing his backpack as he headed downstairs. The kitchen was quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator. He shoveled a quick bowl of cereal into his mouth, barely tasting it, then snatched his keys and stepped outside.
The Yamaha V-Star roared to life beneath him, the engine's growl a fleeting comfort as he rode to school. The wind whipped against his face, sharp and cold, but it did little to clear the fog of questions swirling in his head. What if Ryan's lying? What if this is a setup? He tightened his grip on the handlebars, pushing the thoughts aside. He had to know, no matter the risk.
At school, Jamie waited by the lockers, his sandy hair tousled, his expression tight with concern. "You look like hell," he said, his voice low.
Ethan managed a weak shrug. "Didn't sleep."
They headed to their first class in silence, the day unfolding in a haze of lectures and scribbled notes. Ethan's mind drifted, the teacher's voice a distant drone. By lunchtime, he and Jamie sat in the cafeteria, the clamor of trays and chatter filling the air. Ethan poked at his sandwich, the bread dry in his mouth, while Jamie watched him over a carton of milk.
"You sure about this?" Jamie asked, his brow furrowed.
Ethan nodded, though his stomach twisted. "I have to be. I can't keep guessing what I am."
"Just… be careful," Jamie said, his eyes searching Ethan's face.
"I will," Ethan replied, forcing a small smile.
The afternoon lessons blurred together, Ethan's anticipation mounting with every tick of the clock. When the final bell rang, he grabbed his things, said a quick goodbye to Jamie—who gave him a look heavy with unspoken worry—and bolted to his bike. The ride home was a rush of adrenaline and wind, the streets streaking past in a gray smear. He needed to prepare.
At home, he dropped his bag by the door and swapped his school clothes for loose jeans and a dark T-shirt—practical, easy to move in. If things went south, he'd need to run or fight. He grabbed a granola bar, choking it down despite the lump in his throat. His hands trembled as he picked up his keys, the metal cool against his skin. Outside, the sky hung low, thick with clouds, the air heavy with the scent of impending rain.
The ride to the warehouse was tense, the engine's rumble vibrating through him as he sped toward Sehome Hill. The closer he got, the colder his blood ran, shivers prickling down his spine. His body screamed at him to turn back, an instinctual warning he couldn't ignore—but he couldn't stop either. He needed these answers.
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Ryan's POV
After leaving school, I headed straight to the warehouse. I'd told Frank to skip classes and babysit those two idiots we turned yesterday—Tyler and Alex. When I arrived, Frank was pacing, his face twisted with annoyance.
"About time," he muttered.
I ignored him and turned to Tyler and Alex, lounging against the wall like they owned the place. "Okay, now that I'm here, it's time to pay up. There's a guy coming—Ethan. When he shows, you kill him. Do it, and you keep your shiny new powers? Simple enough."
Tyler hesitated, his eyes darting nervously, but Alex nodded, my compulsion still gripping him tight. I smirked. "What, Tyler? Getting cold feet? Even Alex agreed. You want this strength, you do it—or I kill you right now. Choose."
I let my eyes flare red, stepping closer, and he shrank back, trembling. "I'll do it," he whispered. "I'll kill him."
"Good boy," I said, grinning. "How you do it's up to you, but if he survives and runs, you're both dead. Don't mess this up."
A distant rumble cut through the silence—the sound of a bike. My smile widened. "Get ready. Your prey's here. Perform well, and you keep your lives." I nodded to Frank, and we slipped into the shadows, vanishing from sight.
Third Person POV
The warehouse emerged ahead, a decaying husk of brick and steel, its broken windows gaping like empty eyes.
He cut the engine and dismounted, the silence pressing in around him. The air stank of rot and rust, the ground crunching under his boots as he approached the entrance. His heart thudded, every nerve on edge. "Ryan!" he shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. "Come out—I'm here!"
No response. He waited, breath held, then called again. The stillness was suffocating. Maybe he's not here, Ethan thought, a flicker of relief warring with frustration. He turned to leave, his footsteps loud in the quiet, when a faint scuffle snapped his attention back—a sound too close, too deliberate.
His body moved before his mind caught up, ducking low as something whizzed past his head. He stumbled, pulse racing, and looked up to see Alex—a quiet kid from school—standing there, his blood-red eyes glowing, fangs bared. Ethan's stomach dropped. Vampires. This is a trap.
He scrambled back, but Tyler emerged from the shadows, his movements swift and precise. Ethan dodged as Tyler launched a sharp punch, the blow whistling past his ear with lethal force. They're fast, he realized, their attacks honed and deadly, their vampire strength evident in every move. Alex lunged, his claws slashing with surgical accuracy, forcing Ethan to twist away, his Hellhound reflexes straining to keep up.
"Why?" Ethan gasped, sidestepping another seamless strike from Tyler. "Why are you doing this?"
"Die Ethan" Alex snarled, his voice cold and focused. He charged, his speed a blur, but Ethan dove to the side, rolling across the gritty floor to avoid the attack.
Tyler didn't hesitate, closing the gap with a fluid kick aimed at Ethan's ribs. Ethan threw himself backward, the blow grazing his side, pain flaring as he hit the ground. He scrambled to his feet, breath ragged, as Alex circled, his movements predatory, each step calculated. Ethan's legs burned, his strength waning under the relentless assault.
"Give up," Tyler growled, darting forward with a punch that could've shattered bone. Ethan ducked, the air displaced by the force stinging his face, but he couldn't keep this up. Alex struck again, his claws raking Ethan's arm, drawing blood. Ethan hissed, staggering, his vision swimming.
He stumbled over a pile of debris, his foot catching, and Tyler seized the moment, slamming him against the warehouse wall. The impact jarred his spine, stars bursting behind his eyes. Ethan thrashed, but Tyler's grip was iron, pinning his arms. Alex stepped closer, his fangs glinting in the dim light. "Hold him," he commanded, his hand flashing toward Ethan's neck.
Panic surged, Ethan's heart hammering as Alex's fingers pierced his skin. Pain erupted, hot and searing, blood spilling down his collar. He gasped, his body screaming, when a primal heat exploded within him—a blazing, untamed force. Flames roared from his core, wild and ferocious, engulfing Alex's arm in a searing blaze. Alex screamed, reeling back, his charred flesh smoking, the acrid stench of burnt skin choking the air.
Tyler released Ethan, stumbling away in shock. Ethan collapsed to his knees, the fire vanishing as swiftly as it had come, leaving him trembling and disoriented. He clutched his bleeding neck, staring at his hands in disbelief. What is happening? The question burned, unanswered.