Werewolf: Bite of Damnation

By Dragan Vujic

What commences as a professional arrangement between two werewolf slayers evolves into a romantic relationship. Operating as an efficient team, Bryan and Dakota hunt down and execute numerous lycanthropes. As time marches on, they gain impressive reputations. Their love for each other grows stronger and their passion for terminating incarnates intensifies. Life seems to be at its absolute best. And then, an unanticipated event changes everything and destroys their entire world. One of them is bitten by a werewolf and thereby damned for all eternity. Now, hard choices have to be made that evoke conflicts between reason and emotion. Ultimately, one will have to murder the other. Death appears as the only viable option to resolve this unanticipated conundrum.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491750827

Dragan Vujic

Dragan Vujic is a writer and an avid outdoorsman. He resides in rural southern Ontario, Canada where he enjoys a quiet, serene lifestyle. Dragan may be contacted at: [e-mail] or [e-mail].

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Werewolf Books by Dragan Vujic

Only Silver Can Kill A Werewolf

Dark Shadow of the Werewolf

Death Hunt for the Last Werewolf

Crimson Tears of a Werewolf

Final Harvest of the Werewolf

Tender Kiss of a Russian Werewolf

Alternative Reality for a Werewolf Hunter

Werewolf Alliance

Werewolf Within

Werewolf Among Us

Werewolf: Bite of Damnation

WEREWOLF:

BITE OF DAMNATION

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DRAGAN VUJIC

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Werewolf: Bite of Damnation

Copyright © 2014 Dragan Vujic.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Any resemblance to actual people, either living or dead, is purely coincidental. This is a work of pure fiction.

iUniverse

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4917-5081-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-5083-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-5082-7 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 10/17/2014

Contents

Chase

Dorchester

Winter Campers

Another Hunt

Horn’s Werewolf

Separate Missions

Ardsley

Recovery

Overture

Assault

Bitten

Liberation

Relentless

Death Duel

A Sequel To

Werewolf Among Us

ABSTRACT

What commences as a professional arrangement between two werewolf slayers evolves into a romantic relationship. Operating as an efficient team, Bryan and Dakota hunt down and execute numerous lycanthropes. As time marches on, they gain impressive reputations. Their love for each other grows stronger and their passion for terminating incarnates intensifies. Life seems to be at its absolute best. And then, an unforeseeable event changes everything and destroys their entire world. One of them is bitten by a werewolf and thereby damned for all eternity. Now, hard choices have to be made that evoke conflicts between reason and emotion. Ultimately, one will have to murder the other. Death appears as the only viable option to resolve this unanticipated conundrum.

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CHASE

W inter came early this year in the central region of Ontario. By the tail end of November, roughly two feet of snow had accumulated in Prospect Valley. An overhead dark navy blue sky displayed a luminous full moon and a scattered array of stars. Without a cloud in sight, the night felt cold and crisp. A black pickup truck skidded to a halt along a ploughed gravel road near the edge of a barren hardwood forest. The passenger’s door opened and a large, broad shouldered individual of above average height exited to examine something in the snow. Clean shaven with jet black hair combed straight back and a wind burned, sun tanned weathered face, the man had a handsome look about him in a rugged sense of perception. A two piece snow camouflage suit covered his entire body and a toque of similar colouration graced his head.

Yeah. There are still three of them left. The tracks are relatively fresh. They came through here less than a half hour ago. Our prey is about three concessions ahead of us – travelling due north. They are skirting the edge of the forest, but staying in the field. You go up seven concessions and hide your truck behind some bush or a high mound. Watch the field. The creatures will run across open country. Barren terrain is easier to traverse and offers greater visibility. There is a slight east wind. So go west down here until you hit the second concession, then go north for seven concessions and then cut back east. Try to end up at approximately this same spot seven concessions up. Always stay mindful of the wind, in case it changes direction and pay attention to your scent dispersal. I will chase and push the game to you. Shoot them as they come across the open field or cross the road, but, do not follow them into the bush. Stay out of the woods. The abominations have the advantage therein. Be careful and good fortune. That should just about cover everything., stated Bryan Boyd as he grabbed a pair of thirty-six inches Tubbs blue and gray snowshoes from the six foot box of the extended cab on the GMC Sierra Nevada.

You are absolutely amazing! How do you know all of this stuff? Can you teach me more on track analysis?, responded Dakota Denfield, very impressed with her partner’s interpretation of a set of animal prints in the snow and his quick formulation of an effective termination strategy.

Yeah. Later. Not now. Time is of the essence. Stay safe. Go., replied Bryan, tossing his toque into the cab, retrieving his scoped rifle and slamming the door.

Dakota drove off as soon as the door was shut. Bryan fitted his size twelve insulated boots into the snowshoe harnesses, which had already been preset, and snapped shut two plastic buckles on each snowshoe. Although he carried an off the shelf Browning Bar Stalker in the .270 WSM caliber topped with a Bushnell 3 – 9 x 10 Scope, the cartridges were far from conventional ammunition. The bullets had been cast from pure silver. Beneath his parka, a holstered Colt 1911 in the .45 ACP caliber rested on his hip. This handgun was also loaded with silver projectiles. Bryan and Dakota could not be categorized as ordinary hunters out for an illegal hunt at night. No. There was much more to them. Both of them belonged to an unofficial, secret organization – one that did not exist. Agents of death – they could best be classified as werewolf slayers.

Without further adieu, Bryan unzipped his light parka and commenced the chase at a fast pace. He was no stranger to the travel on snowshoes, having grown up in the north – in the land of ice and snow. Although the toque kept his head warm when he remained in a stationary position, it retained far too much heat if he was mobile. Thus, he had left this piece of headgear behind in the vehicle. Also, the huntsman only wore one mitten on his left hand. Bryan never gloved his gun hand. A sensitive feel of the trigger was most important in squeezing off accurate shots. At the moment, the pursuer slung the rifle over his right shoulder. He assumed that he would not need the firearm for at least another four concessions.

Bryan and Dakota had been living together and hunting together for approximately five years. They made a great pair in more ways than one. Their clandestine group deemed it desirable that they hunt as a team due to the evolving nature of their prey. The werewolves commenced becoming smarter and utilizing innovative tactics. Thus, the role of the huntsman had to change as well. Having traversed the first concession, Bryan reflected on his relationship with Dakota and considered himself most fortunate to have her in his life. However, it was truly a wonder that they ever forged a strong union. When he first met the young lady, Bryan was rude, obnoxious, inconsiderate, insensitive and extremely arrogant. Yet, despite his repulsive attitude, Dakota still fell madly in love with him. The huntsman recalled that initial unpleasant evening.

Bryan attended a meeting with Barney and several other individuals in a vacant barn. He had been asked to appear on short notice. Barney had requested a favour of him and he had declined. The slayer still remembered the sorrowful look of disappointment on the crying blue eyes of a blonde haired young lady. She seemed to be a shapely woman in her early twenties. He would have guessed that she stood five feet and six inches. Her blue jeans and blue jean jacket covering a grey shirt suited her. The man had been too harsh and had unintentionally added to her grief. The conversation had been relatively brief.

Bryan. This is Dakota Denfield. She would like to become a werewolf slayer., started Barney, introducing the person standing beside him.

What? You got to be shitting me. She’s just a kid. How old are you?, retorted Bryan in a most rude manner.

I’m twenty-seven, sir., Dakota replied politely with hope in her heart and positive expectations in her eyes.

Yeah, I would have thought that you were still in your teens, fresh out of high school. You are way too young and too frail for this kind of work. Go get married and raise a family. Lead a normal life. Forget this nonsense in your head., stated Bryan in a condescending manner.

Been there. Done that. I was married. I had a wonderful husband and an angel for a daughter. My life was awesome. But, then something terrible happened. Something took all that away from me. Now, I want to get even. I want to prevent this tragedy from happening to someone else. I can make a difference. I know that I can., responded Dakota, holding back her tears.

I’m sorry. I can empathize with you. I also lost three people very dear to me – my wife, my daughter and my unborn daughter. You have my condolences, but…, Bryan commenced without an opportunity to finish.

I don’t want your condolences, your pity or your sympathy! I want your help! I heard that you were the best tracker and the best hunter in this outfit. With the exception of one other, you have the highest kill rate. I want to learn from you. I want to…, Dakota shouted, only to be cut short.

No! I don’t give a fuck what you want, you stupid bitch! You are not suited for this shit! Pursue this absurd desire and you will die! Guaranteed. You have no idea what you are dealing with., Bryan yelled back, losing patience and considering this entire conversation an absurdity and a total waste of time.

Dakota burst out crying. Three of the other members present led her away to another section of the vacant barn, while Barney approached Bryan. The two of them walked off to the side.

Look, Bryan. Dakota has been through hell. I’m sure that you of all people can appreciate her pain. She…, commenced Barney unable to finish.

Yeah, I do, but, I am not my brother’s keeper. She is neither capable nor competent to hunt werewolves. She would only get both of us killed. You must be fucking insane to even let her try. You are literally throwing a lamb to the wolves. She will die on her first time out. Forget this shit., interrupted Bryan, anxious to leave this place.

The lady has heart. We can teach her all we know about werewolves. We can teach her how to shoot, how to use a knife and hand-to-hand combat. But, only you can teach her how to track and you are the best suited to teach her how to hunt. These skills we cannot teach her. Unfortunately, they are the ones most crucial to survival. Look beyond your own pain, look beyond yourself and help someone else., pleaded Barney, trying to explain the situation as best he could.

No. I cannot. Talk her out of it. Surely, you must know how stupid this is. Look at her. What do you see? Show some common sense. She needs therapy to help deal with the grief. After that, she will settle down., responded Bryan, attempting to convey at the present what he deemed to be the logical alternative.

We can’t. We already tried. Dakota is bound and determined to do this with or without our assistance. Please help her. Don’t let her die., stated Barney, practically begging Bryan for aid.

No. I will not be part of this insanity. You deal with her., retorted Bryan and prepared to leave.

Okay. I ask that you reconsider. If she dies, her blood will be in your conscience. You could have prevented that situation., answered Barney in one last effort to convince Bryan to help this young woman.

Don’t even go there. That dog won’t hunt. Your guilt trip tactics won’t work on me. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do., replied Bryan in a belligerent tone and departed.

All of those images were still clear as a bell. Bryan merely shook his head. How could a person that he had berated so badly see something worth loving in him? Life is strange and full of surprises. It is often said that if two people are destined to be with one another, fate keeps throwing them together until they finally click, unite and travel the same path. On their next encounter, Dakota acted in a defensive manner. Bryan had asked for assistance in the termination of what he considered to be the last werewolf. Barney sent Dakota. They met for the second time in a diner for breakfast in Berkshire.

Bryan enjoyed the crisp morning breeze that gently caressed his face as he made his way to ‘Eileen’s Eatery’ at a leisurely pace. A few clouds floated across an otherwise clear sky with a rising sun in the east. Bright rays were already poking their way through the naked hardwoods on the horizon. Berkshire commenced to awaken. Pedestrians and vehicles started to appear on the empty streets. Stopping in front of the dining establishment, the slayer wondered who Barney had sent. He hoped that Bob Lusk was the man inside.

Dakota!, exclaimed Bryan as he entered the restaurant and recognized a familiar face from a previous less than pleasant encounter.

Hello, Bryan. Surprised? I’ll bet that you probably thought that you would never see me again. But, here I sit before you., retorted Dakota in defensive manner, placing down her half full cup of coffee.

Yes, I am. I am definitely surprised to see you here. And you are right. I didn’t think that I would see you again. This is most unexpected. I gather that you have survived the rigorous training of the institute., responded Bryan walking up to the wall at the far end of the room and sitting down in the closest chair across from his fellow slayer.

Are you disappointed? Were you expecting someone else? You did ask for someone fast and agile. I am that person. I have already slain two werewolves since our last meeting., replied Dakota, maintaining her aggressive demeanour.

Two werewolves. I am impressed., replied Bryan, recalling how rudely he had treated this young lady in the past.

Are you being sarcastic?, snapped Dakota, still not feeling comfortable in the presence of the person that she was dispatched to assist.

No. No. Not at all. I am sincere. But, I am surprised to say the least. I have obviously misjudged you. You have turned out to be a lot tougher and smarter than I perceived you to be. I apologize for my callous, mean behaviour in the past. I am glad that you are here and I look forward to working with you. Thank-you for coming on such short notice., answered Bryan in an honest and forthright manner.

No apologies are necessary. I am also looking forward to working with you. I am here to learn as much as I can from the man who has become a legend among his peers., said Dakota, starting to relax in Bryan’s presence.

Now…, commenced Bryan, interrupted unexpectedly.

Hey, Bert. Who is your friend?, interjected Molly, placing a fresh cup of coffee and two creamers in front of Bryan.

Hi, Molly. I would like you to meet my daughter, Henrietta., lied Bryan in a most convincing manner.

Really? I didn’t take you for a family man and you don’t look old enough to have this lady as a daughter. I am surprised. But, I am pleased to meet you, Henrietta and I hope you have as healthy an appetite as your dad. Are you two ready to order or would you like a few minutes?, replied Molly, filling up Dakota’s coffee cup.

The pleasure is all mine. My dad has told me all about this place and the wonderful people who run it. He goes on and on about all the delicious food that he has eaten in this restaurant. I look forward to my first meal here. But, give us a few minutes., stated Dakota, playing along with Bryan, fully aware that secrecy and deception were all necessary in this deadly game of hunting incarnates. She had already picked up on the fact that, on a previous occasion, Bryan had told Molly that his name was Bert.

Sure. Just wave at me when you are ready to order., agreed Molly and departed as quickly as she had appeared.

Okay, now what have you got for weaponry?, asked Bryan, opening and dumping two creamers into his coffee.

A silver double edged blade – same as you. In addition, I have a Marlin .30-.30 lever action carbine and a .357 Colt Python revolver. Both firearms have fiber optic open sights., answered Dakota, adding one sugar and one cream to her coffee.

Needless to say, Dakota had proved her worth and had helped Bryan slay a werewolf. Actually, it was her bullet that had killed the abomination. However, contrary to assumptions and expectations, this evil entity was not the last werewolf in the area. An unexpected twist had come up. There had been an inception. One more werewolf lurked in the vicinity of Berkshire. This newest recruit had to be slaughtered as soon as possible before any more damage incurred. The situation had to be contained. Thus, Bryan requested that Dakota return a few days prior to the next cycle of the full moon. Then, they would hunt the lycanthrope together. Dakota offered to remain for the three week hiatus and even share the same room. Bryan refused her offer and sent her away. It seemed to be settled. However, fate decreed otherwise. One memorable night changed everything forever.

After their first werewolf termination as a team, Bryan and Dakota had breakfast which proved to be absolutely delicious as always. During the course of the meal, the slayer felt an attraction for his companion but kept shrugging it off. At least, he was not staring as often as on the previous occasion and the lady did not catch him looking at her this time. Bryan and Dakota finished off their coffee and rose to leave. The former left enough cash on the table to include a generous gratuity. Molly, still rushing around by herself, waved to them, as they exited the dining establishment. Outside, Bryan lit up a cigarette. The craving hit him the hardest after a good meal and a coffee. Although she did not smoke herself, Dakota did not find the smell of second hand smoke offensive. After he finished smoking and crushed the butt out underneath the heel of his right boot, Bryan commenced his oratory.

Okay. So here is the deal. Up until a month ago, Karl Svenson was the last werewolf of the pack that I had been hunting for over a year. Regrettably, sometime within the last month, the lycanthrope infected someone else. Now, there is another werewolf among these villagers. I don’t know who it is. All I know is that it is a female. I will need your help to locate and hunt down this last werewolf. But, that won’t happen for another three weeks. So, you might as well go home or somewhere else. I’ll meet you back here at the restaurant in three weeks time. Now, give me a ride back to the motel., delineated Bryan as they walked towards the black Sierra.

Okay. On the other hand, I could stay here with you for that length of time. I could learn a lot from you if you would consider taking the time to teach me., agreed and suggested Dakota, touching Bryan’s arm.

Bryan experienced a warmth that he had not felt in a long, long time. There was something very sensual about this lady. He noticed that he was becoming sexually aroused. Perhaps, that was a good idea. Then, logic murdered emotion. Banishing all erotic thoughts from his mind, the slayer made a curt reply.

No. Go home.

We could share the same room. I know that you like me. I have seen the way that you look at me. Your eyes betray you., persisted Dakota, hanging on to Bryan’s arm.

No, Dakota. This is a bad idea. Rid your mind of any such insane thoughts. We have a good professional working relationship. Let’s keep it at that. I need you clear headed for the upcoming mission., retorted Bryan, wrenching his arm free as he approached the vehicle parked in the driveway of the vacant house.

Needless to say, it was a silent ride back to the motel. Bryan really wanted to be with Dakota, but common sense held him back. This relationship was doomed to fail. It could not possibly work. They had both suffered traumatic experiences in the past. Bryan knew that he was damaged goods. What could he offer anyone? Nothing but a beat up heart that still bled from old wounds of long ago that had never healed and probably never would. The sex would have been great. However, what about the relationship thereafter? Bryan did not want to hurt Dakota and he certainly did not want anymore pain in his own life. It was best for all that this relationship remain plutonic.

Are you sure that you won’t change your mind about me staying?, implored Dakota in one last request as the passenger exited her vehicle.

No. Dakota this topic of conversation is over. Perish any further ludicrous thoughts on this subject. I am going to pick up some supplies. When I return, I don’t want to see your truck here. In fact, I don’t want to see you for the next three weeks. Are we clear?, said Bryan as he turned and looked Dakota directly in her eyes.

Crystal., consented Dakota, waited for Bryan to close her door and drove off a bit in order to park the Sierra in front of her own room.

Bryan’s eyes had indeed betrayed him. Dakota knew that, in his heart, he wanted her to stay. However, he had instructed her to leave and reason dictated that she should do just that. She packed up her sparse belongings and looked out her window in time to see Bryan enter his vehicle and depart.

When Bryan returned to the motel, Dakota’s black truck was gone. He had procured his usual supplies – two bottles of Crown Royal rye, a case of coke and a carton of cigarettes. Already, the slayer regretted having declined Dakota’s offer to stay – to share the same room and, presumably, the same bed. Oh well, the time to reconsider had past. The lady had absconded. Perhaps, it was better not to start something that would inevitably lead to heart ache. He convinced himself that it was best to remain clear of the path that only led to pain and perdition. Risk always came with a consequence. Pushing aside the ongoing mental arguments between the two sides of his brain, Bryan poured himself a stiff drink.

A relatively large window graced the rear of the motel room. Bryan pulled back the curtain and exposed a view of a thinly treed hardwood forest. The rising sun, playing peek-a-boo, among the clouds had burned off some of the fallen snow. But, a few patches of white remained. Stepping back, he sat down into an upholstered armchair facing the window with his drink in his right hand. Sipping away, he enjoyed the view. Despite the fact that a nearby bed beckoned him, the slayer chose to sit and savour the outside scenery. However, he could not cheat sleep for very long. Uninvited and unexpected, the sandman materialized and slapped the weary hunter. Bryan dozed off.

Hours passed. The drowsy man thought that he heard a knocking sound. Was he still asleep or was someone actually at this door? Slowly opening his eyes, the sleeper listened attentively. This time, the knocking could be heard loud and clear. Someone was definitely at his door. Who could it be? Had the deceased werewolf’s mate discovered his whereabouts so soon? Did the female werewolf come to kill him? Snatching his fully loaded pistol from a close by table, Bryan arose and cautiously walked over to the front of his accommodations. Thereat, he eased open the door.

Dakota?! This is crazy. You should not be here., exclaimed Bryan, upon seeing a pretty face with a pair of blue eyes sparkling in the dark.

Ssshh. I do not want to be alone tonight. Neither do you., whispered Dakota, pressing her right index finger on his lips.

Gently pushing Bryan back, Dakota eased her way into his room and closed the self locking door. The temptation became overwhelming. Bryan’s resistance crumbled under the soft touch and soothing voice of this sensuous woman. He surrendered willingly to his fate. After all, Dakota’s presence was a precious gift.

I’m not asking for a commitment or anything long term. I’m just asking for tonight. I will leave in the morning. I promise., spoke Dakota in a low voice, looking directly into Bryan’s lonely eyes.

Okay, as long as you leave in the morning., consented Bryan, embracing his unexpected, but most welcome, guest.

When they kissed, smoldering embers exploded into blazing flames. The fires of passion burned with intense heat. Magic filled the air. They commenced tearing one another’s clothes off and blindly making their way to the bed. Dakota awakened feelings of desire that had slumbered for so long within Bryan. Safe, secure and loved best describe how Dakota felt in Bryan’s strong arms. Soon, they were completely naked and tangled up in each other on the bed. They made passionate love to one another – something neither party had experienced in a long while. The first time was explosive. But, they did not stop there. No. The lovers continued to fondle, caress, kiss and copulate until they both fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. It was the most peaceful slumber that Bryan and Dakota enjoyed since their induction into the profession of werewolf slayer.

In the morning, Bryan awakened with Dakota’s head resting on his chest and her left arm touching his shoulder. He vividly replayed the events of last night. The hunter had not realized how empty his soul was until it was filled. Dakota had enriched his very essence with her mere presence. How could anything that felt this good possibly be bad? Perhaps, it was time to reconsider his former position. Bryan gently stroked Dakota’s shoulder length blonde hair as she lay there sleeping. He really wanted her to spend the next three weeks with him, however, he knew, or he thought he knew, that this was all wrong. Dakota stirred and moved her arm ever so slightly.

Is it morning, already? Do you want me to go?, Dakota asked in a sleepy voice.

No. I want you to stay., blurted out Bryan without even thinking.

Well, it was too late to retract his statement, despite the fact that it expressed his true intent. Emotionally, he felt that he had made the right choice. His intuition said yes and, for once, he decided to listen to his inner voice. The rest is history. They have not been apart since that foreordained night. Their bond had grown strong over the years. Although they never wed, they enjoyed the same privileges and benefits of a married couple.

Before he knew it, the huntsman had covered another concession. Dakota was already in position, having hidden her truck behind a wooded crest and cast a watchful eye on the field. Despite the fact that she was in her early thirties, the young lady still retained a youthful appearance about her. Dakota could easily have passed for a senior student in high school. However, her stunning good looks hid what was truly within. This female slayer had a sharp mind and a strong body. She was quick and agile in every sense of the word. Her marksmanship was exceptional – almost a natural gift. Over the preceding five years, Dakota had learned a considerable amount from Bryan. Yet, she still experienced difficulty regarding the accurate interpretation of foot prints. Dakota lacked Bryan’s uncanny ability to tell how old the imprints were and how far ahead the beasts that left them were. This was something that she wished to hone in the future.

Kneeling down, Bryan examined the markings in the snow. The tracks appeared to be fresher indicating that the creatures were not that far ahead of him. Obviously, the incarnates were unaware that they were being pursued. Bryan had given the beasts too much credit. They were closer than he had anticipated. Quickening his pace, the huntsman hoped to catch up with his prey before they reached the seventh concession where Dakota waited. If he succeeded in executing all three of the abominations, then he would be the only one that his partner would see walking across an open field.

Ever conscious of his immediate environment, the slayer detected a slight shift in the wind. The mild breeze seemed to be moving from east to south. However, the change was not significant enough for him to be concerned – at least, not yet. Soon, he had covered another concession. He noted a strange pattern. Across open country, a set of large prints led the way with a two sets of smaller prints following close behind. But, when the incarnates neared any road, the two sets of smaller tracks seemed to take the lead while the large set appeared to hang back. Subsequent to the crossing, the large set of prints once again took the lead. This was indeed unusual.

Examining the fresh nature of he paw prints, Bryan postulated that he would come upon the evil children of the moon in the fifth or sixth concession – long before the incarnates reached Dakota. Although he knew that he could never prevent her from participating in the extremely dangerous game of werewolf slaying, Bryan always tried to keep her as safe as possible. It was the best that he could do under these peculiar circumstances. The proximity of the prey excited him and fuelled his pursuit. His stride became longer and faster. Bryan was in excellent physical condition for a man in his late forties.

He sped across the alabaster landscape under the silvery rays of the full moon – relentlessly chasing his targets. His tenacity, determination and resolve far exceeded normal expectations and his endurance factor was beyond belief. Powered by the insatiable lust for vengeance and the desire to slaughter every werewolf on the planet, Bryan practically glided over the snow. He could feel perspiration starting to emerge. When he commenced to sweat, the huntsman typically removed his coat and tossed it aside. The organization would gladly provide him with another garment. Cost never seemed to be an issue. Thus, most slayers eventually became extravagant in their habits. After all, money had no meaning to them – there was always enough and lots left over.

Unbeknownst that death followed in their wake, the gang of three werewolves proceeded at a leisurely pace. They had plenty of time to reach their destination. The huge lead wolf was as black as the ace of spades. Fiery amber eyes accented his dark face. He was the alpha male – the leader of the pack. The two that followed were gray coloured females. A relatively calm nocturnal breeze carried no alarming scents. Thus, the lycanthropes continued on their journey, completely oblivious of who hunted them and who lay in ambush for them. Meanwhile, Bryan crossed the fourth concession. He noted a gradual, but steady, shift in the wind in a southerly direction. If the wind commenced to blow from the south, the creatures would scent his approach. At this point, that alteration did not matter. He was almost upon them. Bryan anticipated catching sight of the werewolves in the next concession. This would give him a one concession hiatus before the foul demons reached Dakota.

If the wind had made a change to the north, the situation could have proved to be fatal for Dakota. The tenebrific beasts would have scented a hidden slayer and would be aware of her exact location. She may as well have been standing out in the open – in plain sight. Armed with the knowledge of the precise spot where the lady waited in ambush, the werewolves, acting in unison as a team, could easily have ensnared her and subsequently murdered her. Had that scenario come about, Bryan would have pulled Dakota off the seventh concession and would have formulated another effective termination strategy. He and his partner still had the element of surprise on their side.

Bryan knew for certain that he was really close after he concluded his trek over the fourth concession. He slipped the slung rifle off his shoulder and entered the fifth concession. Ready to shoot on a moment’s warning, the slayer quickly covered frozen ground. Half way through the concession, he witnessed dark balls of fur scurrying over the white rolling landscape. The huntsman had a visual on his objectives. Now, all that he had to do was reach critical distance where he could make an accurate kill shot. This meant that he had to get within a hundred yards of his prey. All seemed to be going well. Then, fate intervened and tipped the scales out of balance.

Without warning, the wind suddenly changed direction and blew out of the south. The fleeing abominations caught the scent of a slayer on their tail. They took a rapid glance to confirm their olfactory information. The proverbial flight or fight response kicked in. Accessing their probabilities in both alternatives, the werewolves chose to escape. Bryan witnessed them pick up their speed and continue on their present course due north. He also ran faster, knowing full well that now he would not overtake them before they reached Dakota. After all these years of hunting together with his female companion, Bryan knew that it was not necessary to telephone her and give her a heads up on the impending situation. She was always on full alert on her post. Dakota would spot the abominations before they saw her. Hopefully, she would swiftly slay all three with impunity and end their joint mission.

By the time that Bryan reached the sixth concession, the dark demons were only a half concession in front of him. The deep snow had slowed their pace. It appeared that the faster that they tried to run, the deeper they sank into the snow. This proved to be an unexpected advantage for Bryan. At the moment, the slayer noticed that he was sweating. Still on the run, he removed and discarded his parka. The huntsman crested a hill just in time to see the werewolves approach the demarcation road between the sixth and seventh concession. Somewhere along that ploughed path, Dakota waited in ambush. Bryan was too far away to assist her in the situation that was about to unfold. A distance of at least three hundred yards separated him from the road. His firearm,