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  “You...” gasped Atticai, holding his neck and sitting up. “You were the one in the visions. I didn’t know. How could I have known? You were the Chosen One.” Atticai coughed, and more blood dribbled down his chin. “I was the evil. I was the evil in the dream.”

  Atticai closed his eyes and then just disappeared. In a night, where I had found myself turned into a white eagle, seeing a man disappear in front of me, really freaked me out. But I didn’t have time to worry about it. Next on the list would be to save Yari; that is, if I wasn’t too late.

  I scrambled to my feet, and discovered I was still wearing the same clothes I had been. Okay, now that was a neat trick.

  Focus, Josiah. Find Yari.

  But I didn’t have far to go, or much to worry about. She was standing with Wyatt and Hector, all three of whom were staring at me, open-mouthed. Yari stood still, staring at me as if she had seen a ghost. And that’s saying something about a girl who was already extremely pale faced and was a supernatural being herself.

  “You’re the one, Josiah. You’re the Chosen One. I can’t believe it.”

  “Never mind that, we need to help Lena.” I turned and spotted her lying on the ground. Blood dribbled from her neck, soaking into the dirt around her. I ran to her side and picked her up. She didn’t look as if she was breathing.

  “What do I do?” I yelled. “Someone tell me what to do!”

  “There is only one thing you can do, Josiah,” said Yari.

  “What? Tell me!”

  Amazingly, the others didn’t seem to care what happened to Lena. Why should they? They were used to killing; they were used to death. What was one more dead Tandra to them?

  “Tell me, or I’ll rip all of your fucking hearts out!” I screamed.

  “She is lost,” Yari said. “Unless....”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless you choose to turn her.”

  “What the devil are you talking about?”

  “To save Lena, you will need to turn her into a Mani.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Yari smiled gently at me. “You are one of us, Josiah. You have been bitten three times by a Mani. It takes three bites to turn her.”

  Through my scattered, crazed thoughts, I realized she was right. The first had been when Wyatt bit me. The second had been when Yari sucked the poison out of me. And third had been Hector, up on the cliff. That’s why I was able to transition.

  “You need to help her become a Mani, or she’ll die. She has lost too much blood.”

  “But you just said three bites...”

  “This will be her second bite.” Atticai was obviously the first one. Yari walked over and lifted Lena’s wrist and bit down into it, drawing a small amount of blood. Blood dribbled out, but certainly not as much as I would have thought, until I remembered how much blood Atticai had surely consumed.

  “Now, you Josiah,” said Yari gently. “But you need to get her conscious.”

  “Why?”

  “Perhaps she should have some say in the matter?”

  “Of course.” God, I wasn’t thinking at all. Who could, under these circumstances? But I did as I was told. I patted her face gently. “Lena, wake up.”

  I repeated this a few more times until her eyelids fluttered and finally opened.

  “Josiah?” she whispered.

  I smiled down at her. She was still in my arms. “Yes. Lena, I need to know...do you seriously want to become a Mani?”

  Lena smiled. “Of course, Josiah. That’s all I ever wanted.”

  I looked at Yari. “Now what?”

  “Bite her anywhere. Allow your new teeth to pierce her deep enough so that her blood flows into your mouth. Drink her and swallow. It won’t have to be much. Just enough so that the bond is felt by the Triat.”

  “Okay.”

  I ran my tongue over my “new teeth,” pausing at the canines. My tongue stopped and slid along the full length of them. They were as long as a mountain lion’s incisors. Hell, longer.

  “Hurry, Josiah,” said Lena.

  I nodded, opened my mouth, leaned down, and sank these new teeth deep into her neck, the opposite side where Atticai had feasted. Her blood tasted metallic and warm...and utterly delicious. I stopped, forcing myself to pull back. I released my teeth and looked down at her. And before my very eyes, the two puncture wounds in her neck closed. As did the wounds in both of her wrists. She looked up at me and smiled.

  “You can set me down,” she said.

  I did so, and she stood and rubbed her neck, and I could only stare in stunned silence. It was all so much to take in. I knew that at any moment, I would wake up from some long-ass dream, no doubt fueled by some highly illegal hallucinogenic drug, slipped to me by some nefarious means. But for now, I was awake. Wide awake. And I was a Mani.

  “What happened to Atticai?” asked Lena, looking around. I knew then that she had sincerely loved the tall bastard.

  “Atticai is gone,” Yari said.

  “Is he okay?”

  Yari shook her head, and Lena covered her mouth. Finally, she said, “So the prophecy wasn’t fulfilled?”

  “Oh, it was fulfilled, just not by Atticai.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Lena.

  “Josiah is the Chosen One.”

  She stared at me, and it was then that I also knew that she had strong feelings for me, too. Yari saw the look that passed between us, and didn’t like it, but she didn’t say anything. I turned to Wyatt and Hector. Both were openly staring at me, and both looked nervous as hell.

  “Relax, guys.”

  “We cool?” Wyatt asked. “I mean, no hard feelings about us, um, trying to kill you and all?”

  “Oh, I’ll be kicking your asses later, but for now, we’re cool.”

  They both grinned, and we all stood there in silence. I wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but I knew more would be explained to me, much more. But for now, there was only one thing I wanted to do. Well, two.

  “Let’s get out of here, guys,” I said.

  We all transitioned: Lena and Yari into beautiful red hawks, Hector and Wyatt into black ravens, and myself into the great white eagle.

  We flew, together, over the San Bernardino Mountains. I was now part of the Children of the Night. I was now a Mani. I was now supposed to be their savior. But two beautiful women, C.O.N. business, and even the ass-kickings of my new henchmen would have to wait.

  My first order of business was to find Tommy…

  To be continued in:

  The Werewolf Whisperer

  The Werewolf Whisperer

  (Vampire Love Story #2)

  by

  H.T. Night

  Dedication

  I dedicate this novel to J.R. Rain and Joshua.

  Acknowledgment

  Special thanks to J.R. Rain, Margaret Cervenka, April M. Reign, Liz Jones and Sandy Johnston for all their help.

  The Werewolf Whisperer

  Chapter One

  It had been two weeks since the night I became a Mani. This wasn’t the life I chose. And this sure wasn’t the way I figured the world was run. One day, I was a mixed martial arts fighter trying to make a name for myself, and then suddenly, I was the chosen savior of the Mani people, or vampires, or whatever the hell they are–we are. How the hell was I supposed to live as a vampire? Or as an eagle? It wasn’t like I could transition and become an eagle whenever I felt like it. Some redneck would probably shoot me out of the sky.

  I was now a Mani. Not by choice. Mani were vampires. Not your everyday Dracula vampires either. We didn’t turn into bats or fog. We could turn or transition into specific birds whenever we felt like it. The men transitioned into black ravens, and the women into red hawks. Me? Hell, I transformed into a giant white eagle. Yeah, you heard it right: an eagle.

  I was the lucky one. I was The Chosen.

  Somehow, somewhere, I was the one who was chosen to bring harmony to the Mani. Me? Of all people? I was chosen to sa
ve some crazy vampire race from becoming extinct? Are you fucking kidding me? Who wants that kind of pressure? I sure as hell didn’t.

  One month ago, I didn’t even believe that vampires or werewolves existed. Now, I had been given the keys to the kingdom? But who the hell was I now? My name, Josiah Reign, seemed to be all that remained of my old life.

  This Chosen One gig was supposed to be Atticai’s job. Freaking Atticai! What the hell had happened to him? Had I really killed him? Where had he disappeared to? Did he go to some kind of Mani heaven… or hell? I had no answers. I avoided the only ones who could give me the answers I needed. I wasn’t ready for the whole truth and I knew it.

  I was turned into a Mani unwillingly, and I hadn’t quite wrapped my brain around that fact. My life, as I once knew it, was over. It was absurd to think that I could be okay with that thought. Sure, I needed time, time to adjust to my new reality, so I barricaded myself in my house. I had enough to eat and drink; I wanted nothing to do with anyone or anything.

  Seriously? What did they expect me to do? Just assume the role of some chosen prophesied vampire and go along with their delusional ideas without even saying a word? The Triat never gave me a vision, the Triat never gave me a heads’ up. Where were my premonitions? Where were my dreams?

  Dreams? That was a good one. I didn’t know if I even truly slept any more. It was like I closed my eyes and rested, not slept. Time skipped as if I was dreaming. I felt my muscles rebuilding, but somehow, the sleep part escaped me. Did I sleep or did I just regenerate? Did I dream or did I plot? Like that Star Trek episode where everyone on the ship was going crazy when they experienced REM-stage sleep deprivation, even my sleep life was surreal now, as if the very synapses of my brain were being totally remapped. I suppose, in a way, they were.

  Also, shouldn’t those blood cravings be kicking in right about now? I thought vampires roamed the earth trying to find a good vein. Hell, any vein. So far, everything I eat seems to go down fine. I really had no idea what was myth or truth when it came to living as a creature of the night. The only vampire facts I knew, I had read in books and seen in movies. And I knew that watching Vampire Sucks a dozen times on cable wasn’t the best source for accurate vampire information.

  I was waiting for this uncontrollable desire for human blood to take over all my senses. The only thing I had been craving these days was a mean peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich. So unless there was some secret human blood ingredient in Jiffy peanut butter, I hadn’t been hit with any intense cravings…yet.

  One thing that was definitely not a myth was that sunlight was to vampires as deep fryers were to donuts. And I was the donut from sunrise to sunset. Unless I transitioned to the eagle, I couldn’t cope with any kind of daylight. It gave me the same dehydrated, overheated feeling that I always got after a fight. I felt nauseous until I got out of the sun. The times that I got caught outdoors in the sun, even for a few seconds, always brought to mind that scene in the Wizard of Oz where the witch gets doused with water and cries out: “I’m melting! I’m melting! Oh, what a world!” That scene pretty much summed up my fear of daytime hours, that someday, I would lock myself out of the house or something, and just…fry.

  Every day for the last two weeks, Yari and Lena had both tried to contact me. I ignored their calls and their unannounced knocks at the door. What the hell did they expect? I turned into a freaking vampire, trying to save both of their lives. Which I did. But now, I needed some space to come to terms with my new reality.

  My old reality consisted of training to be a mixed martial arts fighter and hanging out with Tommy, my best friend in the world. Apparently, Tommy isn’t even his real name. It’s Kyro. And he had been living as a werewolf the whole time I’d known him. And managed to keep it a secret, until recently. He covered up his own transformation life with the excuse that he was in the military reserves and had to leave for his duty every month. A sly, cool subterfuge.

  Tommy’s state of being as a werewolf wasn’t the thing that most concerned me. What was uppermost on my mind was if he was even alive or not. He had been pronounced dead and sent to the hospital morgue. And then his body vanished! Did he come back to life and take off? I had no idea where he went, or even if he was still alive. I really needed Tommy right now. Werewolf or not, he was still my best friend and I considered him my only family. Maybe he could shed some light on all of this madness that was my new existence as a Mani.

  Unfortunately, it was summertime. Not only was it hot as summer-shaved balls in southern California, it didn’t get dark till about 8:30 at night. I finally became restless and sick of being cooped up in my house. I didn’t want to talk to any Mani yet, but I just wanted to leave the house. Get out and stretch my legs. Maybe even my big white wings.

  I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling in my bedroom, which was also my blackout room, with the windows completely covered up, so that no glint of daylight would ever again penetrate the glass. I looked at the clock. It was 9:00 p.m. That meant that it was officially dark, and safe for me to go outside. I had serious cabin fever and really needed a change of venue. I had been wearing nothing but basketball shorts for days, and I figured I was in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes. I stood up and stared at myself in the mirror. I had lost weight. My body was more slender and paler than I ever remembered being. My six-pack looked more like ribs etched into my skin, the muscles so defined that they looked like hard bones under my skin. My blond hair seemed a bit darker than before. Okay, I was dirty. Yeah, I definitely needed a shower. I peeled off my shorts and walked naked down the hallway to my bathroom. I turned on the shower. There was nothing like a scalding hot shower to lighten my mood. I always liked hot showers and tonight was no different.

  I took a ten-minute shower, wondering if it was the greatest one I had ever taken. The water felt amazing. The shower penetrated my muscles. I couldn’t believe how refreshed I felt when I got out. Or perhaps it was just that it was night. And now I was a creature of the night. No, a child of the night.

  I dried myself off and went to the bedroom. I decided to wear a pair of 501 jeans out of my closet and put on a plain black t-shirt. I decided to put on some hiking boots and splashed on some Drakkar Noir, an old-school cologne that seemed to appease my need for sensuality and sensibility. The familiar smell was sweet like the woods with a touch of pine and made me feel more comfortable in my own skin. I smelled like me again. Funny how a scent could do something that powerful. And then, there was the scent of blood. But I did not yet need to drink it to survive. Good thing, because I really liked human food.

  Wyatt and Hector, my new henchman and friends, brought back my truck and left me a text message telling me they’d dropped it off, leaving the keys under the fender. I liked my white truck. It was one of the constants in my life, and I needed reminders of who I once was. That was going to be very important to me in the years ahead as a Mani.

  I stepped outside and took a deep breath. Wow, the air felt so good. It was the first time I had been outside in days. Sure enough, my white Ford truck was in the driveway. It was a beauty. I walked over to my truck, found the keys, and got in. I put the key in the ignition. This was the first time I was going to drive as a Mani. Why did I even have to drive? I could transition into an eagle and go wherever the hell I wanted to. But tonight, I needed to drive. I wanted to feel normal. Have a little bit of fun and just forget for a couple of hours.

  I put on some tunes. Dammit! A hip-hop station! I hated hip-hop! Give me the Beatles or Depeche Mode any day. I scanned the radio and found a song I liked. It was classic Pink Floyd. That was exactly what I needed right now—to feel comfortably numb. I leaned back and closed my eyes to listen to the lush rich sounds of “Breathe,” off the Dark Side of the Moon album, then opened my eyes again when I felt somewhat grounded, centered. I had no idea where I was going tonight, only that I just needed a change of venue, a fresh beginning for my new life that would wash away the agony of realizing what I was and some
how, find ways to embrace it as an asset. I got on the 215 freeway and headed toward Orange County. There was a lot more going on in that direction. I was in desperate need of a beer, or a shot, or both.

  The 215 became the 91, and I headed to the 55 freeway.

  I had carried a fake ID since I was seventeen and used it often when Tommy and I would go to local bars. Tommy had mentioned this dive bar called Slammers off the freeway, and it was about time I checked it out. I took the exit and headed to the hole-in-the-wall.

  The parking lot wasn’t big. In fact, it was packed to the rim. I parked my truck in the only space that was open. The parking lot was full of pickup trucks and rundown cars. This was not going to be the type of bar that served high society. I sure as hell didn’t care. I was the furthest thing from that crowd.

  I cautiously got out of my truck. I wasn’t here to pick up chicks, but I stopped and looked in my driver’s-side mirror anyway. I brushed my hair back. I looked good. I knew I had some serious game. Maybe I’d even flirt a little bit.

  I started toward the bar. The parking lot was torn up as if a construction crew had gone through and ripped it apart. This was the kind of place where a fight would break out and the police wouldn’t show up until 20 minutes later. My kind of place.

  I walked up to the guy at the door. He was an African American fellow and seemed bored to death. I pulled out my wallet and showed him my ID.

  He looked over my driver’s license before he asked, “Hey, you’re some kind of fighter aren’t you?”

  I was shocked. Not too many people recognized me. He must have been a fan of the sport.

  “I used to be. I’m retired.”

  “You’re kind of young to be retired.” He began sizing me up.

  “It’s a tough sport,” I murmured.

  “As I remember, you’re a tough son-of-a-bitch.” He handed me back my I.D. “Just keep it classy in there.” I smiled at the irony of that statement. I entered the bar and the room felt like it was 120 degrees. There were a number of people sitting and drinking at tables, playing darts, and shooting pool. Yeah, my kind of place.