Back To Me

A short story

He came into the bar soaking wet, bringing the pouring rain from outside inside with him. Taking off his wet coat and hanging it up to dry, he took a deep breath and walked on towards the counter, the eyes of every man in the joint on him. Judging by the way he staggered, how he lacked his usual grace, it was clear to everyone that he was already drunk- and to those who had been here a few hours earlier, they would have known that for a fact. He’d left drunk, and now he was back, still drunk.

Not drunk enough, apparently. Whatever pain this bloke was trying to blot off, he was probably trying to achieve it through alcohol poisoning.

If of course, werewolves could get alcohol poisoning.

Oh no, it wasn’t any big secret. As if everyone couldn’t tell by the occasional glimmer of acid yellow in the man’s eyes every once in a while. Yeah being drunk does that to a werewolf. Of course for cases where the drunkard had zero self-control… well, it might as well have been a full moon.

Ethan Kastrige had self-control alright, despite the fact that it had been waning over the past couple of days. And hey, if he did happen to lose that little bit of self control, it wasn’t like the world was going to end or anything.

Sure, there would be property damage, but the people who hung out here weren’t really the types to get killed by a mad werewolf. Take the bartender for example. Human by all respects- hair where its supposed to be, blue eyes, four feet five, bloodstain-free apron (unless you count that smudge near the bottom. He swears it’s blood bottled from the factory for the vampire clients who come here every so often). But then there’s also the fact that he’s a shaman. Not much good in a fight, probably, but that ability to phase through solid objects will come in handy when furniture goes flying around the place- and well, it happens often enough. Then there were the regulars- those were the ones who you’d normally be worried about.

Like at the table at the dark corner by the jukebox- Alexander Chastall, vampire. Chatting with the bartender while pouring himself a drink at the counter- Bernard Santiago, another werewolf. At the other table, the girl cleaning it- LeAnn Darling, witch. There were others, of course, but I guess the point has already been made clear. Plain and simple, no one who stops by here is human. Well, let’s not talk about Jimmy who’s cleaning the toilets in the back- he’s a special case.

Now let’s get back to Ethan.

He sat back at the counter- same place he was hours ago. Heck, same place he sits every night. And that spot on his left, yeah that used to be hers. But that night, it was occupied by another guy, also drunk in a black trench coat with a bottle in one hand and a cig in another. And werewolf, by the scent of him.

Ethan eyed this stranger distastefully for a couple of seconds, but decided not to do or say anything about it. Yeah, he was drunk, and angry at the world. But he still had yet to heal from the last incident, and picking a fight with another werewolf over a seat that belonged to a now dead person was stupid. And he had to be really drunk to risk that.

Oh but he would have gotten there, eventually.

“Hey.”

As menacing as the werewolf beside him looked at first, he didn’t look so scary now that he was putting on that friendly smile, which was, Ethan decided, better to look at than a deep frown, but he wasn’t really looking for friends that night.

“I didn’t exactly come here to talk,” Ethan sighed, turning away. “I think you mean well, but I just can’t be bothered about that right now.”

But the fellow werewolf didn’t seem to mind. “I could’ve guessed,” he said. “But what I need to talk to you about is important.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “If Rena sent you to get me back for a mission, tell her I’m not done mourning yet. For God’s sakes can’t you just leave a guy alone for a couple of weeks?”

It was actually obvious from the start, but the werewolf in black had to say it anyway. “Rena didn’t send me. I don’t work for anyone,” he said. Then, before Ethan could respond, he had already offered his name, and his hand. “Kyle Ranford.”

Ethan shook it, if only out of mild curiosity, giving his name in return. “A freelancer? You don’t have a Pack?” he asked.

“Never needed one,” Kyle replied before dumping what was left of his cig in a nearby ashtray. “Don’t see the point of living my life for others. I help if I feel like it. Tonight I just happen to feel like helping you.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Happy to see that he had Ethan’s attention, Kyle smiled, his hawk-like eyes glinting in the light. He produced a small bottle from his pocket- sure didn’t look like a liquor bottle, which would have been Ethan’s first guess. No, this one was made of gold, with weird carvings on the side. Would’ve looked right at home in some antique shop.

“I heard about your loss from the barkeep,” Kyle said. “Girl got killed by a vamp, huh?”

Ethan gritted his teeth. How dare this stranger speak of it so casually-?

“He’s dust,” Ethan said simply. “I staked him. I already have my revenge.”

Kyle’s smile widened into a grin. “Well,” he said. “It wasn’t enough, was it? Else you wouldn’t be here night after night…”

When Ethan didn’t respond, probably thinking of a response, Kyle leaned closer and said the magic words.

“What if you could bring her back?”

The words had their effect. Ethan’s eyes widened as he only managed to stammer, “H..how?”

“Let’s just say I have connections. Magickal connections,” Kyle replied.

Ethan shook his head. “But I’ve seen witches. Resurrection isn’t possible-

“To them at least,” Kyle said. “Ever heard of a djinn?”

Ethan nodded. “Sort of. Well, there are lots of stories. But djinns, demons, stuff like that just ain’t real.” And what was funny about this was the conviction on his face when he said this. Fancy that- coming from a werewolf. Right down the street where humans got drunk, one of them could easily tell you the same thing about werewolves and vampires.

“Well,” Kyle said, his voice lowering now. “They’re real enough to bring your Yana back. And the one in this bottle here will prove it to you. Take it back to your…wherever you live and open it after midnight. You’ll see.”

By the way Ethan was looking at him, Kyle could tell that Ethan wasn’t exactly buying the story.

And so he stood up to leave, with the bottle now on the counter in front of Ethan. “Well, don’t believe me if you don’t want to. Maybe there’s only dust or smoke in the bottle. Either way it wouldn’t hurt for you to find out, would it?”

And before Ethan could respond, Kyle walked away, disappearing out the front door without saying a word.

Ethan stared at the bottle for a while, pondering whether or not he should believe Kyle. In the end though, it occurred to him that it didn’t matter whether or not he believed in these things. If it was there, and it could help him, then that was a good thing. If not, then no harm done. When he was done recuperating, if he ran into Kyle again he’d twist his arms off for pulling a joke on him.

Nothing to lose.

Paying for his last drink, he tucked the bottle safely in his pocket before leaving.

-

It’s hard to sleep with dead people staring at you.

In his apartment just across the street, Ethan sat alone in bed, staring at the framed photograph taken last spring in Central Park. From the picture, she stared back. Just as she did every night. She looked happy of course- those were happy times. Fact was he never needed the photograph before. It would be one of those things you put in your room but you never really look at.

Because up until the day she had died, he’d had the real thing every night lying right next to him.

Now there was only the picture. The only real connection to her he had left. Sure, it was hard to sleep looking at it all night. But to get rid of it- impossible. What would he have left?

But it wasn’t enough at the same time. No. Nothing could ever be enough to replace the real thing.

He glanced at the clock on the wall by the bedroom door, then back at the bottle in his hands. He stared at it for a while, then just closed his eyes and laughed bitterly. The thought the he’d actually believe something like this for the sake of bringing her back… it just felt weird. He had never taken magic seriously before. Parlor tricks. Hocus pocus. He just never had time for that sort of thing. Guns. Blood. Apart from Yana those were the only things he believed in. What with the back alley fights that took place almost too often between werewolves and vampires, and the occasional human hunters sent by the sorcerers, he never placed much belief in things that he couldn’t see.

Which was ironic, considering the fact that Yana was a witch.

But then, love makes you do crazy things. He’d believe in Tinker Bell if it could bring her back.

“Well,” he muttered. It was past midnight. “Here goes.”

Taking a deep breath, he opened it.

And almost immediately, a cloud of red smoke emerged from the bottle, swirling around, growing and expanding until it filled the whole room. Eventually it shrunk back, forming a human-like shape standing by the window, facing him. Apart from two glowing yellow eyes, there were no other substantial features. What seemed to be legs, arms, horns, whatever, nothing else. Just the eyes, and all that smoke.

“Well,” Ethan murmured, standing up. “I guess you’re…it, then, huh? You’re not going to burst into song or anything, are you?”

‘I’d prefer it if we get down to business, mortal. I do not take kindly to being mocked.’

Well, that was one thing cleared. Djinns, genies, whatever, were not blue, and did not sing. Its presence was rather unsettling though. While Ethan could see the eyes in front of him, the air in the whole room felt rather heavy- like something was pressing down on his shoulders. All the more reason to get things over with as soon as possible.

“Kyle Ranford said you could resurrect dead people,” Ethan began.

‘He was right. Three people. No more. No less.’

“Three,” Ethan repeated. This was more than he’d hoped for. He only needed to bring back one person. But now that the offer was placed, more couldn’t hurt. Yana wasn’t the only person he’d lost throughout his life.

‘There is a price, however. For every life I return, you must take one life.’

Silence.

It took Ethan a while to respond, but eventually he shrugged and smiled. “Not exactly a problem.” And it really wasn’t. The thing hadn’t specifically mentioned human lives, so he could just as easily dust a few vampires and it should amount up to the same thing. Even then, taking human lives wasn’t that much an issue anyway. He wasn’t exactly a mass murderer, but that didn’t mean that he felt any pity for the humans that crossed his path every day. Besides, this was New York.

‘Shall we begin, then?’

“Yes.”

And the red smoke expanded again- thicker this time. So much that it obscured his vision. Growing thicker and thicker until in the end, he saw nothing but red…

-

When the smoke cleared, he was standing in total darkness. Nothing above, below or around him. Nothing save the glowing yellow eyes before him.

“What’s going on?” Ethan asked.

‘I’m helping you choose.’

And the darkness shrank away, revealing a wide open field where the sun was shining. In the distance, Ethan could see a barn that looked all too familiar. It didn’t take him long to realize where he was.

“Home.”

Or at least, it used to be, a long time ago.

He started walking towards it, becoming more and more convinced that all of this was a dream. For indeed, lately he had only been able to come back here in his dreams. In real life the barn was no more- burnt down with his parents five years ago. He’d heard only one year later- from an old friend. Even then he hadn’t went back to visit it. There was no reason to, after all. His parents were part of the reason he had left to begin with.

But before any of that, he remembered being 15, without a care in the world. Back when he had still loved his parents. Back when things weren’t so complicated.

Back when he was still human.

As he came up to the barn, he saw a young boy coming in from the main road on a red bicycle, dressed in blue overalls and a white t-shirt, carrying an old, blue backpack filled to the rim with books. Waiting at the front door for him was another boy who looked slightly older, dressed in almost the same clothing save for the fact that his t-shirt was gray and more dirty, stained with mud and dirt. They had the same eyes, though they each had different colored hair. The younger had brown hair, after their mother. The older had blonde hair, after their father. Apart from that minor detail though, they looked alike in every other respect.

“Took you long enough,” the older brother said, standing up from the front porch with an annoyed look on his face. “You cut through the forest road with Ashley again?”

The younger brother nodded in reply. “Nothing happened, Wes. I thought you didn’t believe in the townsfolk superstitions.”

Wes sighed. “I don’t. But mom and dad sure do. Which should be reason enough. I’m not the one who gives you your allowance. If they ever find out-

“They won’t,” the younger brother assured him. “Dad’s busy with his new book, and mom’s always in town with her gang. It’s not like you can exactly tell where I’ve been by looking at me.”

Touché’.

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Wes sighed, admitting defeat. “Take the scenic route home from school with your girlfriend every day if you want. But if you happen to not come home someday then…”

“You can start loading silver bullets,” Ethan piped up with a grin on his face. “Because the most logical explanation would be that I’ve been eaten by werewolves.” And he didn’t fail to roll his eyes when he said this.

His brother didn’t reply as he walked into the house, the young Ethan trailing behind him with a smug look on his face.

The older Ethan, who watched the front door close knew better. As cocky as the young Ethan was, one fine day, about six months from now, he wouldn’t return, only to be found by a search party later, injured and in a comatose state. Ethan couldn’t remember, really, how he had been attacked. All he remembered was cycling with Ashley through the same route before he had been attacked from behind- knocked unconscious before he could have a good look at what the thing was.

Ashley hadn’t been so lucky. Only her bones had been found.

The transformations began soon after he had been discharged from the hospital, normally triggered whenever things got…tense. It only had to happen once in front of his parents for them to decide what to do with him…

Ethan walked slowly towards the barnyard and opened the main doors, already knowing what he was going to see.

He saw his younger self, lying on the ground in chains.

“Well, it must have been such a big surprise for Dad. I mean, he’s always believed in werewolves and demons- they’re the fuel for his novels. Bet he never thought his own son would end up as one. Not that it made him happy.”

Wes came in then, on that day when his father had decided what to do. Crouching beside Ethan, he quickly unlocked the chains, hurriedly whispering, “I’m driving you to the bus stop at town. You’re hopping the next bus out of here.”

“What? But-

“Father’s going to kill you,” Wes explained.

That had been enough to get Ethan on his feet.

“Whatever happens, Ethan,” Wes told him, as they started to walk out of the barn, “Don’t hate them. They don’t believe it’s you anymore. That’s the only reason they’re planning to kill you.”

“What about you?” the younger Ethan asked. “How do you know I’m me?”

“Call it a hunch.”

Ethan watched as the two shadows of the past walked away. He didn’t have to watch what happened next. It was all still fresh in his mind. He’d taken the bus to New York, where a Pack had found him, raised him. That was where he found out, finally, what he had become. All because of a bite from a Lost One.

Wes had come to New York after him years later in an attempt to track him down, which he’d almost managed to do.

The werewolves weren’t as welcoming to Wes as they were to Ethan.

‘Do you need to see how he was killed?’ the djinn’s voice returned, whispering in his ear as everything around him returned to darkness.

“No,” Ethan replied calmly. “They mistook him for a hunter, and tore him apart. I don’t think I need to see it. My first choice is made.”

“Because he’s the reason I survived. He’s the only true family that I’ll ever acknowledge. Because I know he loved me enough to see who I was even through the fangs and the fur,” Ethan whispered to himself as the darkness crumbled away, putting him back in his room.

“Very well,” the djinn said. “You know what needs to be done.”

-

Picking the first one to kill turned out to be easier than he had expected it to be. Though he’d at first considered the idea of making an easy kill like a homeless person in one of the back alleys- the first back alley he had entered presented him with a more favorable kill.

Before even approaching, he already knew that the werewolf cornered at the end of the alley was Rena Caldwell- Kevin’s girlfriend and second-in-command. Two hunters were coming in- one with a rifle, the other with a sword.

Knowing Rena, Ethan knew that he could just walk away and she’d still come out unscathed. Rena was smarter than hunters usually gave her credit for.

Still it didn’t mean that she wouldn’t appreciate the help.

Ethan charged in, transforming as he ran. The sound of his snarls drew their attention, but by the time they could even think of turning to face him, he was already pinning the one armed with the rifle to the ground. The hunter looked up at him, and screamed.

That only got him more excited.

Ethan went straight for the throat. The force of the bite was so strong that it dislodged the head completely from the body, cutting off the scream instantly.

The other one didn’t have time to scream. By the time Ethan looked up, warm human blood staining his muzzle, Rena was already done with him.

She looked surprised to see him, but she smiled nevertheless as she melted back into human form.

“How’d you know I’d be here? I was gonna leave you alone for another week or two,” she said.

“I didn’t,” Ethan admitted. “Just passing through.” And at that he turned around and walked back up the alley.

“Thanks anyway,” Rena called after him.

At the mouth of the alley, another werewolf almost ran into him, skidding to a halt before dashing into the alley to meet up with Rena. He was obviously supposed to be Rena’s backup, which meant that Rena was lucky Ethan had shown up when he did. Either way, Ethan didn’t think too much about it. Rena’s problem was her own.

“Going out with a newbie for backup ain’t exactly smart,” he sighed. The new boy, Darien was still slow, and still had trouble controlling his transformation, but apart from that, Ethan liked him enough.

He didn’t have to stay and peer around the corner to know that Darien was going to be scolded again. But then that was just part of the whole process. Ethan had gone through the same thing when he first arrived here.

-

When he entered his apartment, the first thing he saw froze him to the spot.

It was his reflection. Only…it wasn’t. He was in human form, and yet his hands were half-turned into huge paws, with claws that were too big even for a werewolf.

He looked down at his hands- and noticed that they were still human. Puzzled, he looked back at his reflection to see himself again. Perfectly normal.

“Must be the beer,” he murmured to himself as he returned to his bedroom.

‘Your brother has been revived,’ the djinn told him as he closed the door behind him. ‘He will find his way here. In the meantime it’s time for you to make your second choice.’

And before Ethan could argue, he got pulled in again.

-

This time, however, he was taken to the exact same place, the exact same bedroom. Only it hadn’t belonged to him yet at that time.

There was a man standing by the window, looking down at the traffic. He had long brown hair which he kept hung loose by his shoulders. He was wearing a bathrobe, holding a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. He had a sort of distinguished air about him, despite the fact that he really wasn’t that well off. Ethan felt a faint smile creep up his face as he heard the doorbell ring.

“Bloody hell,” the man sighed, walking into the main living room, setting down the cup on the counter as he made his way for the door.

He opened it to find another man, in his late forties with a scarred face and short gray hair. Standing beside him was a young Ethan, soaking wet, wearing torn clothes and with blood running down his chin.

“Young one,” the older man said, shoving the young Ethan in. “I’m leaving him with you, Ike. Bring him to the next Pack meet. I’ll call to check in on him tonight.”

And the door closed before any questions could be asked.

Ike heaved a deep sigh, before crossing his arms over his shoulder, glaring at Ethan. He studied Ethan from head to toe before finally saying, “Greetings, then. I’m Icarus Templeson. People just call me Ike.”

“I’m E..Ethan K..Kastridge,” the young Ethan stammered.

“Fine,” Ike said. “I shall call you Ethan, then. And please, don’t stammer so much. It’s unnerving.”

And to this, the young Ethan had replied with a sudden question.

“You’re British, aren’t you?”

To which the response was, “Yes, well I thought that would have been obvious. Go and get yourself cleaned, lad. I’ll find you some of my old clothes that you might be able to fit in.”

The young Ethan did as he was told.

When Ethan was out again, dressed in a white shirt and jeans that were a little too big for him, Ike handed him a plate with a sandwich on it before directing him to the sofa in the living room where he sat down and began wolfing down quickly. Ike watched as he ate, not saying a word until Ethan was done, to which he began what he was supposed to do.

“So,” he said. “A New-blood. We don’t get that very often, on account that humans who normally get bitten don’t usually live to tell the tale. Since you don’t look like a hunter, I’d say you were attacked by a Lost One.”

The young Ethan didn’t say anything. Wrack, the current pack leader who had picked him off the streets had already explained what a New-blood was- a werewolf who was a result of a human being bitten instead of a person who inherited the blood directly from his parents.

“What happens now?” Ethan asked simply. He could tell that this Ike person was a werewolf, just like Wrack, just like him. But somehow Ike didn’t scare him as much as Wrack did. He looked…calm. Up till now he’d expected werewolves to look more…bloodthirsty. The ones he’d met earlier fitted that description. This one looked like… a librarian, or a museum curator.

Which wasn’t off the mark at all. As Ethan learned later on, werewolves had day jobs. And Ike was a museum curator.

“Well,” Ike sighed. “I suppose I brief you on what you’ve got yourself into.”

“What have I got myself into, then?” Ethan asked.

“Simply put, a war,” Ike answered. As he said this, he walked up to the curtain and opened it, allowing sunlight to rush into the living room. “Ethan, do you believe in vampires, or witches?”

“Well,” Ethan began. “I’ve heard of Wicca, but it’s all a bunch of people dancing in circles as far as I know. So no, I don’t believe in witches. And I don’t believe in vampires. Not really a Buffy fan. So are you going to ask if I believe in werewolves, now?”

Ike rolled his eyes. “Alright, so I’ll start there. Vampires and witches exist, along with shamans and sorcerers. Not all of them are exactly our direct enemies, but in the long run, all of us want to be next in line to inherit the earth when the humans wipe themselves out. Witches and shamans usually keep a low profile, so there’s no real way to identify them. And they don’t really care much about who leads who when the war ends, so simply put, they’re the neutral parties. It’s the vampires and sorcerers who you need to be worried about.”

Well it started simple enough- talk. Ike ran through the basic theory at first- how to kill a vampire, how to identify one… eventually things got more interesting.

“How bout us?” Ethan asked. “How do we get killed?”

The response wasn’t what he had been hoping for. Before Ethan could respond, in a sudden burst of speed, Ike had suddenly grabbed him by the collar-

And tossed him through the window.

He’d screamed like he’d never screamed before then. What with the ground rushing up to meet him and the wind screaming along with him in his ears.

He fell right next to a dumpster in a back alley.

Needless to say, it hurt like hell. It felt like he’d broken every last bone in his body. He didn’t know whether to feel surprised at the fact that no one had taken notice that he’d just been thrown from the seventh storey of an apartment. Maybe everyone in the neighborhood was werewolves, he thought to himself, so a third floor drop would seem like such a big deal to them.

The important thing though, was that he was alive.

By the time Ike got down to him, he was still lying on his back.

“For starters, that won’t kill you,” Ike said in a matter-of-fact sort of way. “Though it would be better if you land on your feet, and if you’re in werewolf form, all the better.”

“Right, see that’s where the problem is,” Ethan groaned. “I don’t know how to transform at will. I saw Wrack do it, but I haven’t quite figured out how yet.”

Ike stared at him for a while, then shrugged and bent down to help him up. It took a few tries, but Ethan eventually managed to stand- something he wouldn’t have been able to accomplish if he were still human.

“Well, it begins here,” Ike said. “I’m going to teach you how to fight, how to control your other half, and how to survive. Because as I said before, like it or not, we’re in a war. You can walk away now and choose not to be a part of anything, but be warned that no one else will take you in. And without help your other half will consume you and you’ll be just another Lost One. The werewolves in this city, your Pack, we are the only family you have left. So are you with us? Or are you not?”

“Actually,” Ethan grinned. The pain was starting to go away now, and so he stood up straighter. “Wrack told me the whole deal already. And I’ve already said yes.”

Silence.

“Oh bugger.” Ike turned away instantly and started marching back towards the apartment, with Ethan following behind. Ethan wasn’t sure, but he thought he could see the older werewolf’s cheeks flush.

And so it had begun. As Ike had promised, it was a war. It wasn’t really what Ethan wanted, but there really was no other choice in the matter. He’d lived in L.A before his parents had moved down to the ranch, which had given him some idea of what city life was like-

But here it was completely different.

The world was a dark place. The entire area where he lived was like one black spot on the map where not even the police dared to go. Here he learned how to watch his back. Gunfights and attacks happened all too often. When he didn’t have to worry about vampires, there were hunters. And most of these fights happened in back alleys or underground sewers, though there were the occasional big ones that happened in broad daylight as well.

And every day never seemed to be any different than the day before. It never looked like anyone was winning. Where the werewolves had the advantage in physical strength and healing capabilities, vampires increased their numbers at a more rapid pace- they didn’t have any qualms about turning humans to reinforce their numbers.

Yet in every fight, Ethan had never been alone. There were the other members of the Pack who, as Ike had promised, treated him like family. Ike himself who had started out as his mentor eventually became his best friend. Which wasn’t something Ethan had seen coming, considering Ike’s overly ‘British’ attitude which he found annoying at first. They’d had their share of quarrels and arguments, but in the end what made the difference was how much they had allowed themselves to trust each other.

The days passed by so fast.

“Stop,” Ethan said. “I’ve seen enough.”

‘But we haven’t gotten to the part where he dies yet.’

“He died because of me,” Ethan replied, gritting his teeth. “We got split up that one time, and I was supposed to back him up, but I didn’t get to him in time.”

‘So I take it your mind is made up?’

“Yes, yes,” Ethan replied impatiently. “Just get me out of this place.”

And the past crumbled away again, placing him back in his bedroom.

“Because he was always there for me since day one. Because he helped me discard my old life and helped me survive in the new one. Because I let him down.”

At this point, Ethan had grown impatient. He opened the window and jumped out, transforming in mid-air before landing on his feet. Not wanting to waste time on a fight with a vampire or a hunter, he killed the first human he found- a beggar sleeping beside a dumpster. He made it quick. One twist and the head was removed from the body. Tossing it aside, he dashed back to his apartment, eager to make his last wish.

Again, the reflection in the mirror as he entered the apartment wasn’t his own. But he did not notice this. All that mattered was his final choice- the one he wanted the most.

-

“I don’t need to see anything,” he said loudly as he entered the bedroom. “I know who I want back. I want Yana. Ike and Wes died because of me and I owe them so much. But Yana was-

‘Everything you can’t let go, and the only reason you came to me in the first place.’

“I’ve tried forgetting,” he murmured. “And somehow it wasn’t so hard for Wes and Ike. But when Yana died… it changed everything. Like half of me was missing.”

‘But what about her? How did she feel about you?’

“What the hell? What are you getting at?” Ethan growled.

‘We both know that she had been sleeping with that vampire for a while, after that last fight you had. She came back to you, briefly, before that same vampire killed her. Who’s to say that she didn’t love the vampire more than she did you?’

“Impossible.”

The djinn laughed.

‘Of course, of course. Go make the final kill then, werewolf. And I shall bring her back to life.’

Ethan jumped through the window again. As he ran down the alley, he could feel the blood rushing up his ears as the djinn’s words played over and over again in his mind. At this point Ethan just wanted everything over with. When Yana came back to him, that would prove that he was the one she loved all along.

He staked a vampire this time. Not out of any necessity, just out of the urge to do so. And when the deed was done, he returned to the apartment.

And he saw a monster in the mirror.

A demon with two ram-like horns and blood red skin, with huge claws, two giant bat-like wings and a serpentine tail. The face looked like a disfigured human skull, with two deep sockets with yellow orbs for eyes. And from his waist down he had dark red fur covering his thighs, all the way to where he feet had been replaced with hooves.

It took Ethan a while to realize that he was looking at himself.

Before he could react, before he could scream, red smoke came wafting out from under the door leading to the bedroom.

“What did you do to me?”

No answer came. The red smoke just wrapped around him like a snake, pressing against his throat until it felt like he was choking.

‘You didn’t really think it was going to be that easy, did you? I brought back the people you asked for, but the price isn’t fully paid yet. If it isn’t obvious yet, I’m not a djinn- djinn’s don’t give prices for wishes, and as powerful as they are, they can’t bring back the dead. There’s one last thing I need from you in exchange for the favors I’ve given you. Can you guess what it is?’

Gasping for air, Ethan couldn’t exactly think about anything. But at the last fleeting moment, before everything disappeared in a cloud of red, he figured it out.

-

A knock on the door came a few hours later. When no one answered it, Kyle Ranford let himself in to see the demon standing in front of the mirror, staring at his own reflection.

“So should I call you Ethan? Or Quarthos?” Kyle asked simply.

“Either one works,” the demon replied. “I didn’t plan on it, but it seems the ritual you used to bring me here has me sharing his memories. So in essence, I’m still him.”

“Well the point is you got what you wanted- a body, and entrance into the human world,” Kyle reminded him.

“But it feels…unsettling,” the demon answered. “If it were just his soul, then I might have been able to just cast him out. But as it is, we’re fused.”

As if to prove his point, the demon shifted into human form, then again into werewolf form, and back again into demon form.

“Well get used to it then,” Kyle groaned. “The point is your buddies back home won’t know where you are, and thus can’t kill you. So what if you’ve got bits and pieces of werewolf stuck in your head? That body is yours to keep, exactly as I promised. So now keep your end of the bargain.”

The demon turned around to stare at him, but said nothing.

“Oh, come on, don’t play dumb,” Kyle sighed. “You promised me eternal life. If you could bring back Ethan’s dead chums, shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Silence.

The punch aimed at his face was fast- but somehow, possibly out of pure luck, Kyle managed to duck under it as it punched cleanly through the wall he had been leaning against. He had only begun shifting into werewolf form when the demon had turned around started running to the window, shattering it as it jumped out. Growling angrily, Kyle followed after.

By the time he reached the ground, however, the demon had already ripped open a manhole cover, shifted to human form, and dived in.

As far as Kyle was concerned, he was as good as gone. Even if he continued chasing, he’d never catch up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He kicked a trashcan aside with frustration. Then, deciding that he needed a lot more than that to quell his rage, he headed towards the bar.

-

Only two people came to Ethan’s apartment later that afternoon, wanting answers to how and why they had been brought back.

The third was spending her time looking for a dead vampire.