5 PM

Professor Montague has stated that there have been several cases of vampires and Werewolves procreating even though they are entirely separate species.

Vampires, Felis vampyricus, are of the feline persuasion and hence are more closely related to your average domesticated house cat albeit more dangerous than the jungle tiger.

Werewolves, Canis lupus lycanthropus, are related to the grey wolf and some suggest they are in fact a subspecies of the grey wolf(Canis lupus). Of course, they tend to be much larger than the common wolf and contrary to belief; Werewolves are not humans who change into wolves at full moon. They are wolves who can change into human form at will.

There is a rare curse that few Were’s are born with where one will be forced to return to their wolf form at full moon. This is obviously, where the misconception arose.

The rare occasions where the two species have met and successfully mated has usually resulted in stillbirths or younglings that do not survive past the first few years. Of those that have survived past the critical stage, they are known to possess unusual powers and may even be immortal...

Matthew pushed the scroll away across the desk and rubbed at his eyes.

Immortal...unbelievable...Jonathan Seward...no...Johnny Christ...

He laughed harshly the hollow sound echoing in the huge library. He sat back on his seat and tilted his head, pondering the ramifications of the information he had just read.

If what he had read correlated with what had been written in the document found on the wall then there was no way Jonathan could be killed. No point in even trying.

Matthew knew that the information was damning. There was no way in Hell that he could allow Brian to find out. His lieutenant would make the youngling’s life a living Hell, literally, and Matthew Sanders was not that cruel.

He stood and began to pace slowly. A cold breeze fluttered the heavy drapes hanging at the large French windows that lined the length of the library. Matthew glanced toward the windows then pulled absently at a fang.

“Johnny Christ...”

He rolled the name around his mouth on the tip of his tongue.

“Christ, blooded vamp...blooded Were...Felis lycanthropus...immortal...”

He continued to pace chin tucked into his chest.

“Kin to vampires...Kin to Lycan...”

He shuddered.

“Son of a Lycan and a Vampire...”

He turned and walked back to the desk lifting the original document in his hand and staring hard at the names printed right at the bottom of the page.

His vision clouded and he sighed placing the page aside. He could not stand to read the names on it, it made him realise that he truly knew nothing of the genealogy of his family or that of any other residing in Huntington Beach.

Still after everything he had read, there was only one thing that was absolutely clear to the master vampire. He would have to keep Jonathan close.

Rubbing at his eyes, he leaned his head back gazing at the ceiling thinking about the Werewolf who was in his chambers. Biting his lips, he breathed out harshly. There was another reason that he wanted to keep Johnny around; yet, it scared him. That was of course, laughable.

M Shadows was not afraid of anyone or anything. He was the cruellest, most brutal vampire in the known world. Every creature, every human, every other vampire was terrified of him. He was not afraid of anything.

Yeah right...except for a little thing called feelings...

Matthew shivered smearing large hands over his face. He got those from his mother. She had been one of the few vampires to care about those who were not close kin. She was also one of the minority who had a real heart. A bleeding heart was what his father referred to her as.

Matthew had taken it one-step further; he had torn out his own mother’s heart - bleeding heart indeed - and fed it to the wolves that had roamed Southern California in the early 1800’s. That is true wolves, not werewolves. That hadn’t killed her of course. The stake into her brain finished her off.

The master vampire smirked at that memory. That was definite proof that he was as coldblooded as any vampire could possibly be. Still he could not shake the unreasonable emotions that niggled at the edges of his rock hard centre. He could not, would not voice what emotions resided there, even though buried deep in the recess of his mind he knew what they were.

Shaking his head, he grabbed the parchment tucking it into his belt and strode out of the library. All was silent in the long corridors. With the other vampires out hunting the master was alone. Well, not entirely alone.

The servants remained, scurrying around busy with their daily chores. Then there were the Werewolves who were rotting in the dungeons below. And then there was Jonathan Seward.

Matthew growled deeply, the sound rumbling from his chest and rising into his throat until it became a full-throated roar. A servant, who was hurrying passed hefting a heavy sack, froze for a heartbeat, breathing hard and trembling. Then he shifted the sack onto his shoulder and kept going.

Matthew frowned and glanced behind him then in midstride he disappeared, re-materialising in his chambers. A soft whine issued from the cashmere rug. He glanced down. Jonathan was lying on his belly gazing imploringly up at the master vampire, deep brown eyes wide and soulful. The master vampire felt a tug at his heartstrings. He clenched his jaw.

“What do you want, pup?”

Johnny whimpered, tail wagging weakly.

Hungry...

Matthew sighed, trying to remember what Zachary had told him.

“Right...um...what do you eat?”

Jonathan growled low.

I like fresh meat...suckling calf is always the best...tender and juicy...

The master vampire chuckled lightly.

“You eat cow?”

The Werewolf tilted his head to the side, one ear cocked slightly, tongue lolling between his yellowing canines.

Uh...well...no...I prefer calf...hey...what’s so funny?

Matthew had no clue why but he had this sudden urge to laugh, and so he did deep rich laughter that filled the chamber. Clutching at his stomach, he braced his hand against the wall, his laughter rolling over the young Were.

“Oh, Hell...Vengeance is going to appreciate your tastes...”

Will he?

Matthew’s chuckles subsided and he took several deep breaths.

“Indeed.”

He mumbled silently to the side.

“You’ll fit in well...”

The Werewolf took on a confused expression, but figured that it would not be a good idea to press.

The master vampire slid down so he was sitting on the floor opposite Jonathan. Folding his arms and tucking his hands beneath his armpits, Matthew ruminated on his thoughts for a couple of minutes. His silence was unnerving though and Jonathan began to whine again.

Matthew grunted, “Stop that...I’ll get you some food...not sure about calf though...”

The Werewolf whimpered and crawled forward across the floor. Matthew frowned wondering what the youngling was doing; however, he sat still and just observed him quietly.

Jonathan halted mere inches away from the master vampire’s left foot and then stretched his neck out and nudged at the steel cap of his boot. Then he darted his tongue out and licked at it.

Matthew blinked but remained frozen just watching. Jonathan whined a little more, wagging his tail slowly. The vampire heaved a weary sigh.

“You really need some food? Hang on then, pup.”

He heaved his body up off the floor and walked over to a gilt iron basin. Rummaging through a pile of bowls, he grabbed a plain white one and stuck it under the tap filling it with water. He brought it over to the Were and placed it on the floor.

“Drink first...I’ll see what I can find in the kitchens...”

He was about to vanish when Jonathan growled and grabbed at his boot with his jaws, rumbling in his throat.

“What are you doing?” Matthew made to shake him off.

Jonathan whimpered.

Don’t leave me here...

The vampire blinked and sank down on his haunches and before he could allow himself to think about what he was doing, he grasped the youngling’s head between his hands and pressed his forehead against his. Jonathan shivered at the contact, but so did Matthew. They stared at each other many heartbeats passing by.

The Werewolf was the first to break the stillness. He snaked his tongue out and licked at the vampire’s face. Matthew blinked but didn’t pull back. Somehow, inexplicably, the sensation of Jonathan’s warm tongue on his face felt right. He breathed deeply and pulled back slightly.

“Look, the others have gone hunting. You will be fine here.”

He paused then added sharply, “I cannot allow you to roam around the halls...anyway, Zachary insisted you rest.”

Jonathan whined rolling his eyes.

Fine...I’ll do this myself then...

He closed his eyes.

“Do wha-” Matthew started to ask when there was a soft pop and then a terrified snuffling sound.

He turned his head around and his eyes widened to see a tiny calf huddled in the corner of the room, crying for its mother.

“Hell...”

Matthew whipped his head back around to the Were, who was up on all four paws growling low in his throat.

“Christ....”

Jonathan rumbled in his chest.

That’s what they all call me...

He lowered his body and began to pad toward the calf. It stared at him with huge brown eyes, body quivering, nostrils flaring. The calf knew it was in deep trouble and that there was nowhere for it to run, so it just stayed frozen to the spot.

Jonathan locked eyes with the frightened herbivore then sank low to the floor, muscles bunching. Creeping forward he snarled softly and then he sprang at the calf.

It gave a small cry and darted to the side; the Werewolf twisted around snapping viciously at the calf’s back leg. It kicked out; Jonathan grabbed the leg in his strong jaws, biting down hard.

Matthew actually shivered when he heard the bone shattering. He watched on in fascination as the Were dragged the calf down and ripped gashes out of its body with his teeth.

There was no finesse to Jonathan’s motions as he pulled the crying animal to the stone floor. The echo of its little hooves thrashing at the floor fell upon uncaring, hungry ears.

Jonathan twisted hauling the calf around so he could close his jaw around its muzzle covering its nostrils. The calf began to really fight then making muffled snorting sounds as it tried to escape Jonathan’s death grip.

Eventually after several long moments, the calf’s body went limp. Jonathan growled, pulled his head back, ripped out the calf’s throat, and then started ripping out chunks of flesh chomping away.

Matthew sat back on his heels forearms resting on his thighs, balancing just watching with an almost respectful expression on his face.

Jonathan made gruff snuffling sounds as he tore at the meat, blood splattered over his muzzle, his face. He moved his face more into the side of the calf and crunched at the bones, gnawing and sucking.

After awhile he moved back, panting, blood soaking the fur on his face. He yipped softly.

Matthew smirked.

“You look worse than I do after I’ve fed.”

Yeah...it’s a little hard when I have to rely entirely on my mouth to get my food...

He growled and rubbed the length of his muzzle against his leg.

The vampire straightened and said, “I guess that would be difficult.”

He frowned.

“What do you do with the rest?”

Jonathan sat and wagged his tail; the way his tongue lolled out of his mouth made it look like he was laughing. Then he gave a low howl and with another pop, the remains vanished leaving just a bloody patch on the floor.

Matthew shook his head to clear it.

“Damn…I have to admit, you impress me, pup.”

Jonathan just yipped again then dipped his head down and lapped at the blood on the floor, moving around and wagging his tail. The master vampire couldn’t help but laugh at the young Were, it looked slightly comical.

Yeah…yeah…laugh why don’t you…glad someone finds my eating habits funny…

He sat up and panted before padding over to the bowl and dunking his entire head into it, then pulling up and shaking it from side to side water spraying everywhere.

Matthew laughed again, the echoes rolling across the room like a wave. Jonathan snarled at him, but it wasn’t an angry sound. The master vampire smirked.

“I would apologise, if I were the type.”

Don’t bother, master…

The Werewolf lay down and propped his head on his legs, and before Matthew could respond, Jonathan promptly fell asleep.

“Well…guess…I had better let you rest, pup…”

The master vampire smiled almost softly then straightened and glanced toward the drape-covered windows. Biting at his lips, he noticed his own hunger beginning to gnaw at his stomach. He realised that he had probably been hungry the whole time he’d been there, but due to his attention being on the Were he had pushed it aside.

He still had to figure out exactly what he was going to do with Jonathan, but there would be plenty of time later in the night to ponder that. It was time for him to join the others. He always did enjoy the hunt.

Looking once more at the young Were, he murmured a soft almost tender curse, then vanished silently into the deepening night.

Notes