Changes Disclaimers: The characters recognizable from Forever Knight are not mine, I'm just borrowing them. This is a sequel to the Schanke's Return series. If you haven't read the other stories in my series, you can find them at Forever Knight fan fiction pages. Otherwise, all you need to know to understand it is that my fics take place in an alternate universe where werewolves exist. Schanke is a werewolf, the truth of the vampires' existence has been exposed, there are dragons and they can shape-change. It's a bit easier to understand if you read some of my earlier stories, though. Please note that even though there is a brief Lord of the Rings reference near the end, this is NOT a crossover. I repeat, this is not a crossover with Lord of the Rings or anything else. No infringement is intended. This is rated PG for action/violence. Thanks, David, for beta-reading. By Emily M. Hanson Part 1 * * * * * It was a dull Monday evening as Captain Don Schanke sat at his desk reviewing paperwork. Nick had the night off. Javier Vachon's writing was sloppy and his explanations a little too concise, but Schanke supposed that the vampire's perfect memory made up for it. Since Vachon had joined the force almost a year ago, and had gotten through training, he'd been partnered with Tracy Vetter. They worked well together. The paranormal investigations unit was up to a dozen officers now. Schanke suspected one of the recent recruits was actually a dragon in human form, but Lt. Michelle Weaver hadn't admitted it yet. She was being very careful not to let anything slip. Her partner, Detective Adam Ripley, also thought she might be more than she appeared, but had no proof. He'd mentioned his suspicions briefly to Schanke one night. The phone suddenly rang. "Captain Schanke, Toronto PD." "It's me." Don recognized the voice of his pack leader, Elliott McBride. The Silver Talons were a group of werewolves in Toronto. Schanke was one of them. "What's up?" "I'm calling an emergency meeting." Kristin Starre was the pack leader of the Black Claws. Schanke had met her while on an investigation several months ago. "All right, why?" Don asked. "I have some bad news." Elliott gave him the details of the meeting location and time. "I'll be there," Schanke replied, wondering what the news would be. * * * * * Elliott hung up and prepared to call the next pack member. Suddenly, he heard the window break. He'd recently moved off-campus to an apartment, which had much more privacy than the dormitory room. Plus, he didn't have to put up with the fire alarm going off once a week because someone burned their popcorn or lit a cigarette. As a werewolf, Elliott could see fairly well in the dark, and he also had excellent hearing. The moron who had just broken into his apartment was going to get the shock of his life. Shifting into the half-wolf form, which basically meant that he was a lot bigger and furrier than normal, Elliott crept around the corner. He listened for the would-be-thief's breathing and was surprised to hear it behind him. The werewolf turned around. His mouth hung open as he realized that his opponent wasn't human, as expected. Elliott swung his fist, but the thing in front of him ducked and was behind him in the blink of an eye. Whatever he was facing was neither vampire nor werewolf. Elliott was certain of that. This was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It was much faster and stronger than him. As it struck with razor-sharp claws, Elliott doubted for the first time that he would survive the encounter. He felt a lightning bolt of pain spread from his arm, where the creature had scratched him, through the rest of his body. Normally, a scratch would heal almost immediately. Sharp claws scratched him again and this time, Elliott blacked out from the pain. * * * * * On his way to the meeting site, Schanke passed the college campus where Elliott attended classes in computer science. There were some apartment buildings nearby. Schanke's sense of smell assaulted him as he passed the last building. The scent of blood didn't affect werewolves the same way it affected vampires, but it could be overpowering if there was evil associated with it. Werewolves could sense both good and evil by smell. Parking his car across the street, Don radioed in his location, saying he'd call for backup if he needed any. There was no security guard and the door was unlocked. It was an older building, and the décor probably hadn't been changed since the early 1980's, and the apartments probably had low rent. Considering the apartment building was also within walking distance from the college campus, some students probably thought it was a good deal if they didn't mind the lack of security. Following his nose, Schanke found an apartment where the door was open just a crack. Breathing heavily, he held up the gun and went in. He quickly adjusted to the darkness. There was something familiar about the scent in the air, almost as if he knew the victim. After listening closely, Schanke determined that no one else was in the apartment. As he flipped the light switch, Don was shocked to see the body on the floor. It was Elliott McBride. * * * * * A short time later, as forensics swarmed over the crime scene, Tracy and Vachon arrived. Detective Vetter carefully walked around the blood to where Schanke was standing. "Captain, what happened here?" She asked. "I saw the broken window driving by, and got the sense that something wasn't right. So I came in to investigate. The door was unlocked. By the time I got there, the attacker was gone. Then I saw Elliott's body and called in the homicide." "You knew him?" "Yeah. He was the Silver Talons' pack leader." Tracy looked shocked. "What could have killed him?" "I wish I knew. It wasn't human, that much I can tell you." Vachon nodded in agreement. The vampire could sense that much. "Doesn't this make you the pack leader now, Captain?" The vampire community knew a lot more about werewolves now then they had a year ago, which was virtually nothing except the legends. Vampires and werewolves still didn't have very close relations, so they tended to give each other a wide berth. The leaders of each community made certain that territorial fights were discouraged. The question took Schanke by surprise. He'd been so stunned by finding out Elliott had been murdered that he hadn't really thought about it. "Uh, yeah. As long as no one challenges me." "If you're challenged, then what happens?" "Then, there's a vote." "That's all?" Vachon looked surprised. Vampire elders sometimes fought each other for council positions. Such fighting was discouraged, but not prohibited. While Vachon was not an elder, he knew what was involved. "Yes." "Okay," Tracy said. "Can you tell if a dragon might have done this?" "I don't think it was a dragon," Schanke replied. "I think it was something else." "Like what?" Don sighed. "I don't know, Detective. I'll talk to Xing Long and see what he has to say." * * * * * Since it was Nick's night off, Schanke went to Xing Long's bookstore alone. The building itself was painted in red, and a wooden Chinese dragon hung beneath the main sign. Watercolor and oil paintings of dragons hung on the walls inside, done in various styles. A boy and a girl about ten years old with red hair and blue eyes, who looked alike enough to be fraternal twins, sat on colorful beanbags reading books. Xiao Xing, a fairy dragon who usually took the form of a black cat with green eyes, was curled up in the girl's lap and purring. Xing Long was assisting the children's mother. The book seller appeared to be an unassuming Asian man, slightly shorter than Don Schanke, and in his late fifties. He wore a red silk shirt, black pants, expensive shoes, and gold-rimmed glasses. "Since you seem to know so very much about so many subjects," the woman began, "perhaps you might be able to tell me a few things about dragons." Xing Long's eyebrows shot up at that. "According to legend, most dragons can breathe fire, but some have breath of freezing cold or poisonous fumes. They tend to enjoy the company of beautiful maidens, who usually end up being 'rescued' by well-meaning, but stubborn young men in shining armor with swords. And, of course, dragons in fairy tales are notorious for hoarding treasure." Don wondered just how many beautiful maidens and well-meaning knights that particular dragon had been acquainted with. He also thought the red-haired woman looked vaguely familiar, for some reason, but he just couldn't quite place a name with her face. "I don't mean the dragons in fairy tales, Mr. Long." He looked a bit uncomfortable. "What makes you think I know anything about real dragons, Ms. O'Connor?" Xiao Xing glanced up at them and meowed. Xing Long didn't look happy at whatever she'd just said. Ms. O'Connor took a deep breath. "Because you are one." Xing Long managed to convey a look of complete astonishment. "That's complete rubbish." "Is it? I don't think so." She took out a crystal that had been stored inside her purse. It was glowing bright purple. "I thought all of the seeking crystals had been lost." "Seeking crystals?" Schanke asked, and everyone turned to stare at him. "Yes. According to legend, they can be used to detect magic or magical creatures. They were originally created to find those dragons who had been hiding among humans for so long, they lost contact with others of our kind. We were scattered throughout the earth…and still are, for the most part," Xing Long replied. Ms. O'Connor raised an eyebrow. "I take it you two know each other?" "Captain Don Schanke, Toronto police," he introduced himself. "You're the werewolf," she replied, recognizing Schanke for the first time. "It makes sense, in a bizarre way. It'll work out." "What will work out?" Don asked, feeling confused. Ms. O'Connor smiled. "I needed to find you, anyway. There is something dark coming; I've seen it in my dreams." "You're psychic?" "I try not to be, but I usually am," she relied cryptically. "Something is coming that is very powerful. Perhaps you've sensed it already." She was talking about Elliott's murder, Don realized. "I should bring you in for questioning." "Go ahead. I haven't committed any crimes, Captain Schanke." He sighed. "Okay, just tell me what you know." "What I know, you've probably already guessed. It is not human, vampire, werewolf, or dragon. I'm not certain what it is exactly. However, I also had a dream about two rivers flowing into an ocean on the same night I dreamt about the darkness. The moon was full and shining above one river, and the other river was blood red, so the creature could be part werewolf and part vampire. Or, the dream could mean nothing. Take your pick." "A half-werewolf, half-vampire?" Schanke asked. "How is that possible?" Ms. O'Connor shrugged. "I have no idea. You should ask your partner." "You bet I will," Schanke replied. Ms. O'Connor turned to Xing Long. "So, what can you tell me about real dragons, Mr. Long?" "Why do you wish to know?" "I have my reasons." At his insistent gaze, she added, "All right, I suspect that one of my children's instructors at school is really a dragon." "You have nothing to fear. We do not harm humans." "I'm sure you don't. I invited the instructor for dinner tomorrow night. We both attend the same athletic club and are casual acquaintances." Xing Long realized what she was asking. "You want menu choices?" Ms. O'Connor nodded. "I need to know if there's anything to avoid cooking, or if there's a cultural preference towards certain foods." "Ah. That, I can most certainly help you with. Captain Schanke, was there anything you needed?" "Actually, I've already gotten what I came here for…unless you happen to know anything about half-vampire, half-werewolf crossbreeds." Xing Long had a thoughtful expression as he responded, "I'm sure it would be difficult for such a creature to control its violent tendencies. I've never heard of any in existence, though. Certainly the leaders of both werewolf and vampire communities would not permit the creature to live for very long, unless it could control its behavior." "Xiao Xing, do you know anything about them?" Schanke asked. The feline perked her ears up. *No,* she telepathically replied, *but I agree that such a creature would be very dangerous. I advise using caution.* "Thanks," Schanke said. * * * * * Part 2 Nick was relaxing at home with Natalie. They were watching a romantic movie starring Keanu Reeves, when Schanke called. After listening to his Don's description of the murder, Nick frowned thoughtfully. "I've never heard of such a thing, Schanke. It must be powerful, whatever it is. I'll ask around. So, you're the Silver Talons' pack leader now?" "Not exactly," Schanke replied. "There might be a challenge. The former pack leader who Elliott took over from is still alive." "I thought he was in jail for attempted murder. Wasn't that what voided his leadership status?" "He is behind bars, but he's due for a parole hearing this week." Schanke had looked up Richard Black's record. "Okay. Let me know if anything else happens." Nick hung up. "So what was that all about?" Natalie asked. "Elliott McBride is dead. Schanke was on his way to see him. He found the body. Apparently, whatever killed him was neither werewolf nor vampire, but it was obviously strong and had razor-sharp claws." "Could it have been a dragon?" "Schanke says no. It was something else." Nat was about to reply, when the phone rang. It was the office. They needed her at work. She sighed and hung up. "I have to go in, Nick. Nobody else wants to do Elliott's autopsy. His ghost is scaring everyone away, and he refuses to talk with anyone but Schanke. Since I'm the only one who's ever dealt with a ghost before, they want me to be there." Nick stood up. "I'll come with you." "All right. You might want to call Don and tell him to come over, too." He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Schanke's number, as Natalie put on her coat. He briefly explained the situation. Don agreed to come to the morgue. "Well?" she asked. "He's on his way." "Great. Let's go." * * * * * "Thank God you're here," the lab technician told Natalie, as she arrived with Nick. "It's been a nightmare." "That bad?" she asked. "Everybody's scared stiff. Nobody but Grace Balthasar even got close to the ghost. She's the only one who had the sense to ask it what it wanted." "Not it, Jeffrey. The ghost was a man." Natalie made a mental note to take Grace out to lunch as a thank you. "Uh, right. Anyway, once she asked *him*, she suggested that we call you." "Thanks. Is Captain Schanke here yet?" "No, Ma'am. I take it he's on his way?" Natalie nodded. "I'll keep an eye out, then." Jeffrey stepped aside so she could enter the autopsy room. Nick followed. Elliott's ghost was floating, though pacing seemed to be a better description. He turned after reaching the wall, and floated in the other direction. Elliott's ghost looked up as they arrived. "You must be Natalie and Nick Knight." "Elliott McBride?" she asked. "I was," he sighed. "But not any more. Look what that thing did to me!" Natalie lifted up the sheet covering his corpse. She could see angry red scratches on his arms and face, as if whatever killed McBride had been trying to shred him apart. But his torso and lower body were intact. "You must have died from extensive bleeding." "No, the creature probably had lethal poison in its claws, poison that could kill a werewolf. Bleeding alone wouldn't have done it. The wounds would have healed." "I'll determine whether or not there was any poison involved. In the meantime, Captain Schanke is on his way." "I'm here," Don said, standing in the doorway. He had just arrived. "Elliott, what did you want to tell me? Why were you going to have an emergency council meeting?" "I was going to tell you that Richard Black is due for a parole hearing. If he gets out, he could challenge me. But that wasn't all. The word on the streets is that something very powerful and evil is threatening us. There are reports of attacks in other cities, but no witnesses ever survived. Only the bodies were found, and no one can identify what's doing this. I guess it found me." Schanke suddenly had an idea. "Elliott, how long are you going to hang around here?" He shrugged. "Until my unfinished business is taken care of." "Can you stay long enough to give a detailed description of the creature?" "I'll try." Elliott's form wavered briefly. "Great! I'll go find our sketch artist." Natalie and Nick exchanged glances as Schanke left. * * * * * Lt. Terry Samuels was finishing a cup of coffee, when he saw Captain Schanke approaching. "Evening, Cap'n." "I need you for a few minutes, Lieutenant. I have a murder witness who can give us a clear description of the attacker. There's just one catch." "What's that?" "The witness is also the victim." Lt. Samuels' eyes widened. "You're not serious." "I'm dead serious, Terry. The ghost doesn't have much time left. I need you to come up with something." Lt. Samuels shook his head in disbelief, then grabbed a pencil and sketchpad. "All right." * * * * * As Elliott answered questions, Lt. Samuels drew. He couldn't believe what he was drawing. It was starting to look like some kind of monster. Finally, the artist held up the picture. "This looks like something out of a horror movie. I can't even tell you what it is." Nick and Schanke exchanged glances. "That's a half-werewolf, half- vampire if I ever saw one," Don declared. "What? Sir, with all due respect, that's crazy." "I wouldn't talk about crazy if I were you, Terry. Remember, you're in the same room with a ghost, a werewolf, and a vampire." Lt. Samuels paled. "I, uh…didn't mean…" "Easy, Schanke," Nick said. "He didn't mean anything. Right, Samuels?" Terry gulped. "Yes, sir, Captain Knight." "Sir? I could get used to that. Schanke, what do you think about me whammying everyone on night shift? I'm sure I could get them to call you 'sir', as well." "Nick," Natalie protested. Schanke chuckled. "Whatever you say, Knight." Lt. Samuels had gone even paler, and was looking wistfully at the door. "I'm kidding," Nick said. "Relax. You're free to go, Lieutenant. Thanks for coming." Elliott's ghost slowly faded. "That must have been it," he said. "My unfinished business was telling you. Thanks." "No problem," Schanke replied. "Good luck, Elliott." Elliott's voice echoed through the room as the last of his ghostly form vanished. "Good bye." * * * * * Part 3 Damien could not remember a time when he hadn't felt pain. Logically, he knew that he must have been a child once. Of that time, he recalled nothing, but there must have been a time when he was free of pain then. Wearing a trench coat, gloves, and a face mask to hide his hideous form as best as he could, Damien huddled in an alley while pedestrians passed by. Two women, both with gray in their hair, chatted unsuspectingly. They wore colorful winter coats and carried shopping bags. He hated the holiday season. All it did was to remind him that he was an outcast, and that would never change. Looking down, he saw crimson splatters of blood on his coat. In the shadows, they couldn't be seen by ordinary eyes, but his extra-sharp vision missed nothing. The scent of dried bloodstains reached his sensitive nostrils. He recalled the werewolf pack leader's shock and horror upon seeing him. Damien tasted the bittersweet tanginess of Elliott's fear as the memory surfaced. He'd killed the werewolf as a service to another werewolf. He'd never done that before, but he needed the money. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a rolled-up wad of cash. Most of the bills were fifties. Certainly, Damien needed a new coat, but there weren't many places where he could go shopping without raising suspicion. Fortunately, there was a good will store several blocks away. It would be sufficient. * * * * * Mercy Winslow was a petite lady with blonde hair and blue eyes in her mid-forties. She was the owner of the good will store, and worked the cash registers on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today was Monday, but three-quarters of the store's employees were out sick, so she'd volunteered to come in. Business was brisk. With only a week left before Christmas, people were buying gifts. After the last in a steady stream of shoppers left the store, she sat down for a minute to rest. The bells above the door jingled as someone entered. In this line of work, she had seen all types of people, but no one so unusual. The man wore a gray overcoat hinting at a twisted, misshapen body underneath. Red eyes gazed out from a navy blue face mask. "Do you have any long coats?" The stranger rasped. Mercy found herself paralyzed with fear. Surely he could not be entirely human. The sun was shining brightly, making this encounter seem even more eerie. That meant he couldn't be a vampire. If he was a werewolf, why couldn't he just change into human form? She knew several werewolves well. In fact, they were among the store's best customers. Mercy finally found her voice. "Yes, we do. The men's coats are right this way, sir." "Damien." "Excuse me?" "I'm called Damien." Not "my name is Damien," she thought, wondering why he'd chosen to reply in such a manner. Was it not his real name? Did he have some form of amnesia? She led him towards the men's clothing section. With shaking hands, she shoved the leather jackets aside on the rack and found the trench coats. It was then that she noticed the blood stains on his coat. Her heart caught in her throat, but he appeared not to notice. Selecting a black coat, he asked, "Where can I try this on?" She pointed to the dressing room, not trusting her voice. "Thanks," he said and headed in that direction. She debated calling the police, but really, what evidence did she have that he had committed a crime? A few drops of blood looked incriminating, but they didn't mean anything. The strange man could have been injured accidentally. Her conscience nagged, but why couldn't he just take his coat to a laundromat? Because, Mercy answered herself, he doesn't want anyone to see what he looks like. How could anyone find fault with that? But he's not human, her mind argued. What if he'd flown into a rage and gotten into a fight, and maybe…just maybe…killed someone? Stop it, she protested, not wanting to imagine the worst. Several minutes later, the strange man came out wearing the black coat. "How much?" "Ten dollars." He held out a wad of bills and gave her a fifty. "I need change." "Certainly." Well, that answered her question, didn't it? How could he have gotten that much money legitimately? She took forty dollars out of the cash register. "Do you have someplace to stay tonight? It's going to get cold. The Saint Joan of Arc Catholic church is offering space this week." "The cold doesn't bother me. Thanks, anyway. I left my old coat in the changing room. You might as well sell it." All she could think of to say was "Have a nice day." As soon as the strange man left, she picked up a telephone and called the police. * * * * * Schanke answered his phone. It was the desk Sergeant, who had just called about a tip that might be related to a paranormal case. A woman working at a discount store had just seen a weird guy with red eyes, who just happened to be wearing a coat with blood stains. "Okay, thanks," Don said after hearing the information. He hung up. "Knight, did you catch that?" Nick looked up from a stack of paperwork. "Yes. Might as well check it out. You never know, it could be your half-werewolf." "Half-vampire, you mean." "Whatever." "Is your glass half-empty or half-full?" Schanke asked. "What glass?" Nick replied. "I'm guessing it's half-empty." Nick rolled his eyes in reply. Schanke stood up and grabbed his jacket. "Are you coming?" "Sure." * * * * * A short time later, Nick and Schanke surveyed the store. Mercy Winslow was quite willing to volunteer information. "Was the man you saw a vampire?" Nick asked. "It was broad daylight. He couldn't have been a vampire. He was wearing a face mask, so all I could see was his red eyes." Nick knew there were ways to get around the sunlight problem temporarily. Experimental medication, or possibly magic, could have done it. He fingered the Ring of the Phoenix, which allowed him to briefly enjoy daylight. "How tall was he?" Schanke inquired. "Taller than either of you. His coat was lumpy and wrinkled all over, as if his body was malformed. He went into a dressing room to try on the other coat." "The one he purchased?" Nick asked. "Yes. That's also where he left his old coat." "Can we see it?" "Sure. It's right over here." Schanke sniffed. Goosebumps rose on his arms as the scent reached his nose. "I can smell it." "Excuse me?" Mercy asked. "The coat," Don said. "It's got a very distinctive odor." "That's funny, I didn't notice anything unusual, other than the blood stains." "You wouldn't have noticed it, Ma'am. I'm a werewolf." "Oh." Schanke gazed down at the coat. A scent that could only be described as pure rage assaulted his nostrils, and he sneezed. "Is Damien a dragon?" Nick asked, remembering his partner's allergic reaction. Mercy had told the desk Sergeant his name on the phone. "No, this is just a very strong smell. Did he mention anything to you about where he was staying, Ma'am?" Schanke asked. "No," she replied. "I told him about Saint Joan of Arc, though. They're offering shelter this week because of the unusually cold weather. He said the cold didn't bother him." "With all that fur, I would think not," Don said. "Fur?" "If Damien is who I think he is, he's very furry." "He's a werewolf?" "In addition to other things. If he comes in again, could you please let me know?" Schanke gave Mercy his card. "I will. Thank you." After collecting the coat as possible evidence, Nick and Schanke returned to the police station for what turned out to be a very quiet night. * * * * * Part 4 Meanwhile, Ms. O'Connor's dinner was going quite well. She wore the seeking crystal, which she'd had made into a pendant. It was glowing brightly. Ethan had commented on it, and she'd said it was a gift. She hadn't explained its use yet. Madeline smiled as she raised her wine glass. "To the holiday season and the upcoming new year." Her dinner guest raised his glass. "You're quite a chef. This is an extraordinary meal." "Thank you. I enjoy cooking." Ethan Smith smiled. He was a tall man with dark hair and the most unusual violet eyes. Madeline suspected that her daughter had a crush on him, but she wouldn't admit it to Mary, who sat at the table, wearing her favorite blue dress and a ribbon in her hair. Madeline usually couldn't get her to dress up, but she'd been more than eager to look her best tonight. Danny fidgeted in his seat. He folded his napkin and refolded it, making it look like an origami sculpture. He was a bright child and easily bored. He also showed some talent in what Madeline liked to call 'the family profession.' Her grandmother had been psychic, as were her aunt and closest cousin. Mary hadn't displayed any ability yet, but she was very young. "This crab is exquisite. You know, I usually just order take-out." "What kind of food do you like best?" Mary asked. "Chinese. Once in a while, I go for Italian. I also enjoy seafood." Danny stopped fidgeting and gazed up with clear blue eyes. "My sister has a crush on you." "I do not," she protested with burning cheeks. "Do too." "Do not!" "Do too. I've seen your notebook. And you know something? Ethan's not even human." Mary looked up with wide, questioning blue eyes. "Danny, that's enough," his mother sharply scolded him. "If you can't be polite, you might as well go to your room. Ethan, I'm so sorry." "Madeline, it's okay." Ethan sighed. "The boy is right. But how did you know, young man?" "I can see," Danny answered. "See what?" "Your true form. It's floating behind you, like a shadow or something." Ethan marveled at this information. It was rare for a human to be able to do that, especially a child. Sometimes, children saw things that adults could not. "Can you really? That's quite a talent." The boy looked embarrassed and shrugged. "Do I still have to go to my room?" "I suppose not, but you'd better behave," Madeline replied. "I have a confession to make, Ethan." "Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "This is actually a seeking crystal. Perhaps you've heard of them?" "Of course. I've never seen one before, though. How did you happen to acquire it?" "It's been in the family for generations. Most of us are mystics, of a sort. One of my ancestors predicted the founding of America, a century before Columbus made his famous discovery. My great-great- great grandmother wrote in her diary that one day weapons of vast power would be created, and that they would be used for ill purposes until the world agreed to get rid of them. She also predicted the moon landing." "Amazing." "Not as amazing as the fact that dragons really do exist." Ethan looked slightly embarrassed. Mary gaped at him. "You're a dragon? Can you do magic?" "Yes, and yes." "Wow!" Ethan grinned. Suddenly, Madeline felt a slight headache, as she usually did when she was about to have a vision. "Mom? Are you okay?" Danny asked. "I'm fine," she heard herself reply, but her sight was no longer focused on him. A powerful man paced back and forth in a jail cell. A guard with keys jingling from his belt came and unlocked the door. "Your lawyer just got you paroled. You're free to go." "It's about time. I can't wait to breath fresh air!" The stoic guard led him out. The full moon shone overhead, even though the sun had been shining just a moment ago. A wolf's howl pierced the air as the silver moon turned crimson. Abruptly, Madeline found herself back in reality. Ethan must have done something, since the air around her shimmered with the unmistakable aura of magic. "You were completely out cold," he said as a look of concern crossed his face. "I tried to wake you with water, but that didn't work. In the end, I had to use a spell." "I was having a vision." "Are they always like that?" "Not usually, no. I need to make a telephone call. Excuse me." She left Ethan, Danny and Mary at the dinner table, exchanging worried glances. * * * * * Richard Black grinned as he stepped outside the jail cell. He was finally free! Well, he was technically on parole, but that didn't matter. That slime, Elliott McBride, had gotten what was coming to him. Taking over the leadership role when he had been imprisoned for nothing more than *self-defense,* for crying out loud, was just wrong. Elliott had issued the challenge after being provoked. Richard had nearly killed his Shadow then. Elliott should have died, but his uncanny luck had aided him. Unfortunately, the jury had no sympathy for a werewolf. Elliott was dead and soon his Shadow, Don Schanke, would be next. He was a cop, with a vampire for a partner. What kind of werewolf worked with vampires? There were rumors Schanke had helped the dragons, too. You didn't help dragons, you made sure they stayed as far away from your territory as possible. What was running through McBride's mind when he let the dragons stay? And that other pack leader, the one who ended up dead. McBride had not been worthy of his position, that was for certain. Richard picked up his cell phone and speed-dialed Damien's number. "Yes?" the other answered. "It's me. I need you to do something. I'll make sure you get paid." There was a long pause. "Who is it?" Damien might be ugly, but he wasn't stupid. "Schanke. Don Schanke. This is where you'll find him." Richard gave him the cop's address. "When?" "As soon as possible. I'll meet you tomorrow night in front of Saint Joan's at midnight." "All right." Click. Richard smiled as he hailed a cab. Things were going to be a lot different in this town when he took control of the pack. There would be no dragons on his territory, and the vampires would have to watch their step. "Where to?" The cab driver asked. "Hotel. Don't care which one, as long as it's not too pricey." "You got it." * * * * * Part 5 * * * * * Don Schanke was about to leave for home, when the telephone rang. It was Madeline O'Connor, the psychic from Xing Long's bookstore. "Captain Schanke, I thought you should be informed that the one who was imprisoned has escaped. He poses a real threat." Don pulled up Richard Black's record on the computer. "You're right, he was released on parole just about twenty minutes ago. How did you know?" "I saw it in a vision. He is extremely dangerous, Captain. I think he may have something to do with your friend's death." "Yeah? Like what?" "I'm not sure, but I thought you ought to be warned." "Thanks. I'll keep an eye out for him," he replied. She hung up. Nick glanced at him. "So the former pack leader of the Silver Talons is out on parole?" "Yeah. I'm not too worried, though. He couldn't be stupid enough to try anything." The vampire nodded. "You're probably right." Don glanced up at the clock and dialed his home number. Jenny answered the phone enthusiastically. "Hi, Dad!" They had caller ID. "Hi, Honey. Are you and Myra okay?" "Yeah. Why?" "No reason. But if anything should happen, let me know. All right?" "Okay. Dad, is something going on?" "Well, kind of, but you don't need to worry about it. Is your mom around?" "Yeah. Just a sec." Jenny handed the phone to Myra. "Don, what's going on?" "Oh, not much. A guy was released from prison. He used to be the leader of the Silver Talons. He was in jail for assault and attempted murder. I don't think he'll do anything, but if he does, I want you to call me immediately. If you can't reach me, contact Nick. Okay?" "All right. Bye." "Bye, Myra." As she hung up, a shadowy form lurked outside the window, unseen. Damien hid behind a tree and waited patiently, knowing that sooner or later, Don Schanke would come home from work. Then, he would learn the true meaning of fear. Myra glanced at Jenny. "I want you to get ready for bed, but find your flashlight and keep it handy." "What's going on?" "A man was released from jail. He's a werewolf. Don thinks he might come here. If anything happens during the night, get out of the house immediately. Go to the neighbors and call 911." "Mom, do you think we'll be okay?" "Of course, we'll be fine. But just in case something happens, I want to make sure you know what to do." Jenny went to her bedroom. She wasn't sure that she could possibly fall asleep, but eventually she did. * * * * * Inside the Raven, Tracy yawned. She'd gotten Vachon to ask around about the half-vampire, half-werewolf. She was trying to strike up a conversation with Janette, who seemed more likely than anyone else to know anything, if for no other reason than her age. "Nick and Schanke have a theory. They think there is a half- werewolf, half-vampire running loose." "Impossible," Janette replied. "You can't bring a werewolf across." "Has it ever been tried?" "Not that I know of." "What would happen if a werewolf bit a vampire? Could a vampire become a werewolf?" "No. Only mortals, from what I understand. There is nothing that could cause such a condition, unless…" She had an idea, but it was so far-fetched, even she couldn't believe it. "What?" Tracy leaned forward. "I suppose it could happen if the vampire became mortal temporarily. That has been done before. I know of two possible ways - the experimental medication Natalie gave to Nicolas, and an herbal tea made with dragon's blood, among other things." "Experimental medication?" "Yes. I don't know what it was called. Nicolas became human for a day or two. He was able to eat food and walk in the sunlight without injury. From what he told me, the drug became addictive and had serious side effects, so he stopped using it." "Hmmm." Tracy saw Vachon dancing with a young-looking vampire. Her eyes had golden flecks, and long dark hair flowed around her shoulders. "That's Melissa Stark. She escaped from a madman who had been abusing her in the name of science. Nicholas captured the scientist." "Oh. Excuse me, I need to use my cell phone." Tracy got up and went outside to call Nick. She told him about Janette's information and he told her about Richard Black. "I have a theory," Nick replied. "I'm going to talk to Schanke. We just got another case tonight, and I need you and Vachon working on it. It's been transferred from Homicide. I don't think it's connected to anything else we have." "All right." Tracy hung up and went to get Vachon. * * * * * Part 5 * * * * * Don Schanke was about to leave for home, when the telephone rang. It was Madeline O'Connor, the psychic from Xing Long's bookstore. "Captain Schanke, I thought you should be informed that the one who was imprisoned has escaped. He poses a real threat." Don pulled up Richard Black's record on the computer. "You're right, he was released on parole just about twenty minutes ago. How did you know?" "I saw it in a vision. He is extremely dangerous, Captain. I think he may have something to do with your friend's death." "Yeah? Like what?" "I'm not sure, but I thought you ought to be warned." "Thanks. I'll keep an eye out for him," he replied. She hung up. Nick glanced at him. "So the former pack leader of the Silver Talons is out on parole?" "Yeah. I'm not too worried, though. He couldn't be stupid enough to try anything." The vampire nodded. "You're probably right." Don glanced up at the clock and dialed his home number. Jenny answered the phone enthusiastically. "Hi, Dad!" They had caller ID. "Hi, Honey. Are you and Myra okay?" "Yeah. Why?" "No reason. But if anything should happen, let me know. All right?" "Okay. Dad, is something going on?" "Well, kind of, but you don't need to worry about it. Is your mom around?" "Yeah. Just a sec." Jenny handed the phone to Myra. "Don, what's going on?" "Oh, not much. A guy was released from prison. He used to be the leader of the Silver Talons. He was in jail for assault and attempted murder. I don't think he'll do anything, but if he does, I want you to call me immediately. If you can't reach me, contact Nick. Okay?" "All right. Bye." "Bye, Myra." As she hung up, a shadowy form lurked outside the window, unseen. Damien hid behind a tree and waited patiently, knowing that sooner or later, Don Schanke would come home from work. Then, he would learn the true meaning of fear. Myra glanced at Jenny. "I want you to get ready for bed, but find your flashlight and keep it handy." "What's going on?" "A man was released from jail. He's a werewolf. Don thinks he might come here. If anything happens during the night, get out of the house immediately. Go to the neighbors and call 911." "Mom, do you think we'll be okay?" "Of course, we'll be fine. But just in case something happens, I want to make sure you know what to do." Jenny went to her bedroom. She wasn't sure that she could possibly fall asleep, but eventually she did. * * * * * Inside the Raven, Tracy yawned. She'd gotten Vachon to ask around about the half-vampire, half-werewolf. She was trying to strike up a conversation with Janette, who seemed more likely than anyone else to know anything, if for no other reason than her age. "Nick and Schanke have a theory. They think there is a half- werewolf, half-vampire running loose." "Impossible," Janette replied. "You can't bring a werewolf across." "Has it ever been tried?" "Not that I know of." "What would happen if a werewolf bit a vampire? Could a vampire become a werewolf?" "No. Only mortals, from what I understand. There is nothing that could cause such a condition, unless…" She had an idea, but it was so far-fetched, even she couldn't believe it. "What?" Tracy leaned forward. "I suppose it could happen if the vampire became mortal temporarily. That has been done before. I know of two possible ways - the experimental medication Natalie gave to Nicolas, and an herbal tea made with dragon's blood, among other things." "Experimental medication?" "Yes. I don't know what it was called. Nicolas became human for a day or two. He was able to eat food and walk in the sunlight without injury. From what he told me, the drug became addictive and had serious side effects, so he stopped using it." "Hmmm." Tracy saw Vachon dancing with a young-looking vampire. Her eyes had golden flecks, and long dark hair flowed around her shoulders. "That's Melissa Stark. She escaped from a madman who had been abusing her in the name of science. Nicholas captured the scientist." "Oh. Excuse me, I need to use my cell phone." Tracy got up and went outside to call Nick. She told him about Janette's information and he told her about Richard Black. "I have a theory," Nick replied. "I'm going to talk to Schanke. We just got another case tonight, and I need you and Vachon working on it. It's been transferred from Homicide. I don't think it's connected to anything else we have." "All right." Tracy hung up and went to get Vachon. * * * * * Part 6 * * * * * The sky grew lighter as it got closer to dawn. Damien crouched behind the tree, watching and waiting for his moment to strike. As Schanke pulled into the driveway, he sprang. Don had only a moment to react as a dark figure with red eyes leapt at his vehicle. Gleaming white claws slashed through the windows. He ducked as the glass shattered. Taking off his jacket, Schanke transformed into his furry form, boosting his own strength and reflexes. He climbed over to the passenger side and got out. Whatever was after him also moved very quickly, so fast that he could barely see it. Damien growled. "You cannot escape," he said in a voice that gave Schanke the chills. "I always defeat my prey." "Oh, yeah? We'll see about that." Wondering just how many had fallen to the creature's wrath, Don stepped into the nearest shadow and vanished into the weird monochrome world. It was like being inside an old television show. The shadows were much darker here. Schanke grabbed his cell phone. He'd never tried using it here before, but it should work. Nick answered within two rings. He recognized the number on the caller ID. "Schanke?" "Damien is outside at my place. I could use a little help here." The cell phone hissed and crackled, as if to punctuate his statement. "You must be getting really bad reception. I can barely hear you." "I'm in a shadow at the moment. That could have something to do with it. Oh, no, not the car!" Don winced as Damien's claws slashed across the vehicle's front end. That would be expensive to fix. In this strange place, he could see the action, but not hear it take place. "I'll be there." Nick hung up. He stepped back into the daylight. "First you kill Elliott, and then you wreck my car. I am really getting pissed off." Damien lunged at him. They wrestled on the grass for what seemed like hours. Finally, Nick arrived in the Caddy. He had a needle filled with curare, which he'd brought along as a safety precaution. Bullets would likely have no effect. He also had a stake, but that would only be used if necessary. "Schanke, I need you to hold him down for a moment," Knight said. "That's easy for you to say," Schanke replied. A growling Damien was about to bite him, when Nick stabbed a furry arm with the needle. Don lay exhausted for a few moments, and then lifted the half-werewolf off. "Are you okay?" Nick asked, concerned. "Yeah. I think so." "Did he bite you?" Schanke glanced down at his shoulder as he turned back into his normal form. Two tiny fang marks could be seen. He didn't even remember being bitten. It must have happened while they were wrestling. "Looks like he did. I'm sure I'll be fine, Nick." "Okay. If anything happens, let me know." "I will." Nick picked up his cell phone and called for an ambulance. "You should get some rest." "Yeah. That would be nice." Myra and Jenny came out of the house, still in their nightgowns and robes, havening been awakened by the noise. "Don, are you all right?" his wife asked. "Yes. For now." She embraced him. "I'm so glad." "Nick," Jenny exclaimed. "You're in the sunlight again." He nodded. "Is that a bad guy?" "Yeah," Schanke said. "Don't worry, he'll be locked up." He hugged his daughter. "Go get dressed for school." "Okay." She ran back into the house. * * * * * Later that night, Tracy and Vachon found Richard Black in his hotel room. There had been a complaint about loud noise. Apparently, he was completely drunk and had been howling at the full moon. He admitted hiring Damien to kill Elliott McBride and Don Schanke. He confessed cheerfully and with an attorney present, for the person staying in the room next door was a lawyer. Unfortunately, his confession could not be officially taken until he was sober, but the attorney would make a good witness. * * * * * Schanke entered Xing Long's bookstore several days later, to find the dragon chatting amiably with Madeline O'Connor and a young man with a British accent named Ethan. "Don Schanke," Xing Long began, "how may I help you?" Xiao Xing jumped off a bookcase and onto Schanke's shoulder in her natural form, trilling into his ear. "I can wait if you're busy," he replied. Madeline and Ethan exchanged glances. "Don't mind us, Captain," she said. "Okay. I just wanted to thank you for all your help, and to let you know that the Silver Talons pack is officially extending its greetings. You can stay within our territory indefinitely, as long as I get to make that decision." "I am honored," Xing Long responded. "Congratulations on becoming pack leader, even though it must have been a painful road to travel. I know that Elliott was a good friend." "He was, and he won't be forgotten." Absently, Schanke scratched Xiao Xing between the ears. *A little higher,* the fairy dragon sighed contentedly in mind-speech. *Ahhh.* "I guess they say that everything changes eventually. Does it?" he asked. "Yes," Xing Long replied. "But some changes are easier to accept than others." "Speaking of changes," Madeline said, smiling at Ethan, "I think Mary has gotten over her crush. She's pining over a boy at school now. She has 'I love Zachary' written all over her new notebook. He's in her art class." "Ah. Well, that's good. Tell you what, I've got advanced screening tickets to 'Lord of the Rings.' I've been dying to see this movie. I read the books when they first came out, and I must have read them a hundred times afterward. Would you like to see it with me tonight?" "I would love to. Captain Schanke, I'm so glad to hear that you found the guilty persons." "Yeah. Thanks." Out of curiosity, he added, "Do you see anything else in my future?" She closed her eyes. "The future is always changing, but I see a long road ahead of you with many paths. What you make of it is your choice." Madeline and Ethan left. Schanke patted Xiao Xing one more time before going out into the cold Toronto night. Christmas Eve was tomorrow. He looked up at the stars briefly, wondering what changes the future would bring. * * * * * The End