Chapter 1

The fire crackled and spat embers against the wire screen, casting light across the parlor.

Seated in a red, plush chair, a woman stared pensively at the newspaper in front of her. She

wore a black gown, cut at her shoulders and her blonde hair was tied into a long braid. As she

scanned the periodical, she paid close attention to each article, looking for hints beyond the

headlines.

"Warehouse fire... no. President Taft... doubtful. Meatpacking death?"

Here the woman paused, folding the paper back to focus on the article. Her attention

was only parted from the article by the clinking sound of a tea cup. She looked up to see her

servant, a steaming cup and saucer in hand.

"Tea, Mrs. Trevor?"

"Hmm? Oh, thank you, Grant."

She laid the paper aside for the moment and took the tea, blowing on it before taking a

long sip. She nodded her approval to her servant.

"Burning the midnight oil again, Madam?" Grant asked.

"Possibly. I've found nothing of substance in the Tribune. Do we have the Herald?"

"I shall see if one has been delivered, Madam, but..."

"Yes?" she asked.

"Perhaps a lull in activity might be cause to refocus one's attention," the butler replied.
 "What do you mean, Grant?"

"Young Richter. He won't say it, but he misses you. Perhaps this time could be better

spent in his company?"

"Richter is a strong lad. He'll be fine."

"Yes, Madam, but he is reaching the same age when you-"

"That is all, Grant." As if to seal the issue, she took another long drink from her cup

before setting it down on the table next to her. She raised the paper back up. She didn't need to

look up to know he was still there. "That means you're excused."

"Yes, Madam."

Before he could depart, a loud buzzing rang through the parlor, the woman looking up

with a sour face. "Who in the devil would come calling this late. Grant?"

"Right away."

She turned her attention back to the paper as the servant left the room. Her eyes

scanned back and forth before finding the story on the meatpacking death. It sounded very

familiar. She read through the details, trying to remember. Yes, she thought, the werewolf

incident. It was around three years earlier when she tracked down a werewolf that had

terrorized a town in Massachusetts, killing several workers at a meat packing factory. Both that

case and this one involved the initial deaths turning up inside the factories themselves.

Hopefully, she thought, they'll actually clean the equipment this time.

"Agent Reginald Walters to see you, Madam."

At the sound of her servant, she stood, setting the newspaper aside. She straightened

her gown and approached a waiting man. He was young, in his early twenties, with a tweed

jacket and brown vest underneath. He tipped his bowler hat to her and she returned the greeting

with the slightest of curtsies.

"You must be Mrs. Sonia Trevor?" the young man asked.

 "Indeed. And from your title I can assume you're from the Bureau of Investigation?" she

replied.

"Ah... close, ma'am. I come bearing a message from Mr. Roosevelt. He requests the

pleasure of your company tomorrow at noon," he said, fishing an envelope from inside his coat.

She took it, inspecting it for a moment before handing it off to Grant.

"I'm honored, but I don't think I'll be able to make it to Africa by tomorrow at noon," Sonia

replied, brow furrowed.

"Oh! No, Mr. Roosevelt isn't actually in Africa, Ma'am. Well... not yet. But, er... we would

ask that you keep that information to yourself."

Sonia's lips quirked to one side, studying the awkward movements of the young man.

She turned to her servant who had already opened the envelope. "Where?"

"Rinaldo's, Madam. Shall I have an appropriate gown laid out?"

"I shall find one befitting the occasion myself," she replied, turning back to her chair.

"Oh..." the agent chimed in. "Well... Very good. I'll let him know. We'll have a car sent for

you." Sonia dismissed the young man with a hand wave and returned to her newspaper. He

stood silent for several moments before stepping back from the room. "I... suppose I shall see

myself out."

As the young man left the manor, Grant returned to his mistress' side, collecting the

empty tea cup. "You never asked why Mr. Roosevelt wanted to see you."

"Please, Grant, that child knows nothing. There was no reason to waste both our time. If

a man like Theodore Roosevelt wants to see me, it's for one reason only: he means for me to

kill something."

***
 Sonia stepped out of the car, the noon-day sun shining down on her black gown, her

eyes shielded by a wide brimmed, "Merry Widow" hat. Grant exited the car behind her,

surveying the scene. To either side, men in tweed jackets and hats, marched to the door of

Rinaldo's, opening it for her. She acknowledged them with a nod and entered, the host taking

her from there. Her dark gown and hat drew a few looks from some of the patrons, but Sonia

didn't bother to look their way. Her gaze was directly ahead of her, at the door to a private dining

area. As she approached, the men in jackets halted her servant. Grant reached into his jacket,

but Sonia placed a hand on his arm, halting him. He nodded and took a position outside the

door as she entered.

Stepping inside, she was bathed in a soft light. The walls were adorned with landscape

paintings of Paris and London, with wall sconces illuminating the room. Near the back at a

solitary table sat a man with a strong frame and a spruce mustache. He looked up from his

meal, smiling at her approach. He dabbed a napkin against his lips and stood, donning his pince

nez.

"A pleasure to meet you, Madam!" he boomed with an exuberance usually saved for

younger men. She nodded and offered her hand, which he took.

"And you, Mr. President."

"Please, have a seat. I trust you don't mind that I began without you. My men were quite

sure you wouldn't show."

"I told your boy I was coming," she replied, taking her seat across from him. "Do BOI

agents really think so little of me?"

The former president chuckled before taking a drink. "No, Madam, I daresay BOI agents

know nothing about you. However, these men aren't with the Bureau. Well... not that Bureau."

Sonia took a moment to survey the men around her. They dressed like federal agents,

but she failed to see what set them apart. A small glint from the collar of one man caught her
eye, drawing her to a pin. A white shield adorned the pin with a stylized purple flower, it's petals

hanging loose and staggering down the stem.

"Is that...?"

"Wolfsbane," Roosevelt remarked, digging back into his meal.

"Dear God, you've created another agency."

"A good portion of which are made of former hunters, like you. Your family's name came

up more than once in recent days."

"Which begs the question, Mr. Roosevelt, what is it you want killed? Surely a man such

as yourself wouldn't come to me without reason," she replied.

"Indeed not, Madam. But first, I do hope you'll be dining as well."

At his signal, a waiter approached. Sonia looked at the plate in front of Mr. Roosevelt;

fried chicken smothered in white gravy. Beside it, a large cup of black coffee.

"Cucumber salad, please," she ordered.

The waiter nodded and stepped away, leaving the former president with a large smirk

under his thick mustache. "A killer of monsters, but still with the appetite befitting such a dainty

frame."

"Mr. Roosevelt, I'd be willing to wager that fewer meals of that caliber and you wouldn't

need this 'dainty ' woman's assistance."

"Ha!" Roosevelt exclaimed, clapping the table. "Bully! I like this woman!" Seeing the

president's reaction, several of the agents around him allowed themselves a nervous smile.

"Very well. Let us get down to brass tacks. My men at the Bureau of Demonic Affairs have been

tracking an infestation recently. I believe it's linked to the outbreak of lycanthropy back in 1906."

"I handled that," Sonia commented.

"Indeed. But it seems the ramifications of that outbreak were far more wide reaching

than we expected. My men have put down no less than three dozen werewolves since then, all

throughout the Eastern Seaboard."

 "Then it sounds like your men are doing a good job," she replied.

"Of course they are! But now that I am free to join them in the field, I believe it's time to

find a more permanent solution."

"Permanent? Is death not a permanent enough solution for you, Mr. Roosevelt?"

"My dear lady, Americans are dying every day. Poor working conditions. Impure food.

Those were problems I could solve as President. Now unholy creatures from the bowels of Hell

seek to destroy those I have sworn to protect. I cannot put forth legislation to outlaw

lycanthropy, it is a disease that must be eradicated and it must be done before it can spread to

infect all of these United States."

"You're looking to go on a werewolf hunt? That is ambitious, Mr. Roosevelt. I don't

believe I've heard of such a hunt since Salem," Sonia replied.

The waiter returned, setting down her salad and bowing before leaving. She nodded to

him before turning her attention back to the President. His look was intent. There was no doubt

that he was serious in this matter.

"Madam, if I must travel this entire country and put down the cursed beasts one by one, I

shall. But my men told me that if there was anyone that could bring me a solution, a way to

eradicate this plague once and for all, that the Trevor family would know."

Sonia smirked as she brought her first bite to her lips, allowing the former president to

linger in silence as she finished. She looked at the men surrounding them. "Your men are not

mistaken, Mr. Roosevelt. If anyone in this country could do it, it would be me."

"Then you'll help?"

"No," she replied, returning to her salad.

"I beg your pardon. Why not?"

"I have no interest in this matter. This seems exactly what you formed your little... bureau

for."
 Roosevelt laid his knife and fork down, furrowing his brow. "Madam, if this is about

compensation, I can assure you-"

"Please, Mr. Roosevelt, you don't have the money to bribe the Trevor family."

"One would think you'd do it as a service to your country!"

"I've served this country and several others by eradicating unholy abominations and,

somehow, I still don't have the right to vote."

Roosevelt pounded his fist on the table, several of the agents turning, hands moving to

their pistols. "Mrs. Trevor, I have been a staunch support of equal rights for women since I was

a lad! Do you know that I put women in key positions at the New York Police Department? Or

that I advocated for corporal punishment for wife beaters? Why my bureau has three executive

officers that are women!"

"I'm aware of all your pomp and circumstance, Mr. Roosevelt, but I also know that you

served two terms and didn't give us the vote," Sonia replied, taking another bite of her salad.

Mr. Roosevelt took a breath and calmed himself, raising his hands to his men to ease

their concern. "Very well. If none of that will convince you, perhaps this might."

With another gesture, an agent approached, handing the former president a rectangular

object wrapped in cloth. Pushing aside his plate, Roosevelt laid down the object and unwrapped

it, revealing a worn, leather-bound book. Sonia hesitated, staring at the book for several

moments before setting down her fork. She reached for it, but an agent drew his pistol.

"Hold now," the former president said, calming the agent. "Let her examine it."

Sonia sneered at the agent as he holstered his gun, grabbing the book. She weighed it

in her hands and ran her fingers over the cover. Faint writing was etched across the front: The

Observations of RJ Thompson on the Magus Device. She parted the pages, flipping through the

book. Her stern disposition melted away as she read over random pages, each second forming

a larger grin on Roosevelt's face.

"You'll... give this to me?" she asked.

 "Not this one exactly," he replied, holding out his hand. "But a copy, exact in every detail.

This journal is too valuable to go missing from the BDA library."

Sonia closed the book, hesitantly placing it back in the president's hand. He wrapped it

back up in the cloth and handed it off to one of his agents before turning back to her, his smile a

mile wide.

"Do we have a deal, Mrs. Trevor?"

"How do I know the copy will be exact?" she asked.

"You have my solemn word, Mrs. Trevor. There is nothing more pure I can offer than

that."

"And... why would you allow state secrets like that to fall into the hands of a hunter?" she

countered.

"The journal is of historical importance, but my men... and women... have been unable to

find anything useful from it. I thought perhaps you might have better luck. The Trevor family is

famous for its... clandestine connections, shall we say?"

"Very well. I expect all my expenses to be paid and to be given full control of the

operation."

"Second in command," he countered.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"You don't think I'm going to just watch, do you Mrs. Trevor?" he replied with a grin.

Sonia composed herself, glancing around at the agents in the room. "Very well. The full

moon is in three weeks. I'll be back in two with your solution."

"Bully!"

Sonia slid out from her chair, the former president standing in respect as she did. He

took her hand in farewell and the two parted. Stepping out, Grant resumed his place at her

side."I trust you had a lovely lunch, Madam?"

 "Delectable. When we arrive home, please prepare my trunk and make preparations to

travel to London."

"Of course, Madam. Will this be the red trunk or the black trunk?"

Sonia grinned as she slid into the car. "The black one."

Chapter 2

A motorcar led to a train, and that train led to a ship, and now that ship lay docked at harbor in

London. Sonia stepped off the vessel, a porter tugging her large, black trunk behind her. Grant,

sadly, had to stay back at the manor to look after young Richter. While that would prove an

annoyance, she was more than capable of navigating London on her own.

It wasn't long before she entered her hotel, black trunk still following behind. The decor

was certainly inviting, a lodging worthy of a Trevor, but her mind was set on other things; this

was far from a luxury holiday. As the bellhop moved her trunk up to her room, Sonia

approached the front desk.

"Pardon, my name is Sonia Trevor. Have there been any messages left for me?"
 The well groomed clerk at the desk smiled and nodded. "Allow me to check, Madam."

After a moment of perusing, the man returned to the desk with a telegram in hand. "Here we

are. It's simply addressed from a 'P.'"

"Please read it," she said, peeling her long gloves off and sliding them into her bag.

"Let me see. 'Carriage sent. STOP. 11. STOP. Arrive prepared. STOP.' Not sure what to

make of that."

"It's not for you to understand, now is it. Please dispose of that message. And no

disturbances."

"Of course," the clerk nodded.

Sonia quickly retired to her room, leaving a tip with the bellboy before locking the door

and staring at her large steamer trunk. She sat on her bed, hands folded and pressed against

her lips. In her mind she was screaming. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to do this.

At the same time, to hold the secrets of RJ Thompson, this was going to be the only way.

She unlatched the large lock on the trunk and flipped it open. She stared at the contents

for a moment, her mind still back at her own manor. She should've tried harder. Maybe her

library had something she could've used to gather the werewolves. No, she thought as she

reached in, taking hold of a large, wooden stake. I know every book in that library. Every book

in hunter's underground. There's only one person who can tell me what I need to know.

Setting aside the stake, she pulled out a set of dark clothing, followed by several knives,

bottles of various liquids, and a small box with a golden cross emblazoned on the top. Lastly,

she reached in to pull out a long chain attached to a whip handle. She weighed it in her hands,

letting the spiked tip dangle and swing. She was never supposed to come back here again. In

America she was free, she was in control. Here? Things only happened if he deemed it so.
 Several hours later she stepped out of the hotel, her gown replaced by a long, black

cloak that hid her in the darkness of the night. A horse drawn carriage arrived, right on time. A

languid, pale driver with clothes several decades out of fashion stared down at her, the door to

the carriage opening on it's own. The half moon glinted off the steel daggers peeking out from

under her cloak as she stepped on.

"I see Pasha hasn't seen fit to purchase a motorcar," she remarked. The driver

seemingly ignored her, giving the reins a whip and setting the carriage off into the night. "And

you are still ever the conversationalist."

The trip concluded in silence, the hour passing with Sonia left only to check and recheck

the equipment held under her cloak. When the carriage finally came to a stop, they were in front

of a large manor, ancient in its decor and easily dwarfing the Trevor manor back in the States. A

chill went up Sonia's spine as she stepped out, the carriage moving away the moment her feet

touched the ground. She was alone now.

She pulled back her hood and looked up the steps to the imposing structure. The manor

was several stories tall and spanned a majority of the grounds. Clenching her fists, she

ascended the stairway, passing statues of vile looking gargoyles, tortured men and women, and

monsters of every description. The giant doors stood before her, but she didn't bother to even

touch them. They opened before her on their own as they had many times before.

Stepping into the grand entrance hall, she looked upon the familiar sight of the ivory

pillars, spanning three stories. Tall windows with velvet curtains lined the hallway, with suits of

armor resting between each. An imposing staircase spilled down from the upper levels like a

waterfall of blood, a rich crimson carpet lining it. She took only a few steps in when the doors

shut behind her with a loud thud that echoed through the halls. The candles about her flickered

and several died out, darkening the room substantially.

"Welcome, hunter," boomed a deep voice with the faintest trace of a Russian accent.

"May your God have mercy on you."

 "Pasha!" she cried out, casting aside her cloak. "Don't do this! Let's just -"

CLANG!

The hunter dodged backward as a large ax slammed into the floor in front of her, guided

by hands of an empty suit of armor. She roared in frustration and peeled a long chain from her

waist, spiraling it in front of her. As it swung again, she let out the chain, sending it wrapping

around the handle of the ax. With a leap, she was in the air, both feet colliding with the armor's

chest and sending it backward, the hunter flipping back to tug hard at the chain, liberating the

armor's weapon from its grasp.

She looked around, seeing that the rest of the armors were now approaching, some with

axes, some with swords. Steeling herself, she rushed in to the nearest one, dodging it's blade

and wrapping her chain around it's legs. With a swift pull, the armor was on the ground and

Sonia was rushing past, making for the stairway. But every step through the manor seemed to

only pull the stairway further and further away. She screamed in frustration as they retreated,

turning to dive out of the way of another ax.

She was surrounded now on all sides, but she acted without hesitation. In an instant she

vaulted herself, hands first, onto the shoulders of the nearest false knight, somersaulting over it

toward the walls of the manor. A display of throwing hatchets, blades crossed, rested atop the

manor's family shield and crest. Without delay, the hunter leapt into the air, grabbing and prying

them from their display. In one fluid motion, she cast the hatchets out, each one sinking into the

chest of a suit of armor, dropping them.

She quickly surveyed her surroundings. If the stairs wouldn't cooperate, she needed

another way up. Spotting several chandeliers that cast down the little light still in the grand hall,

Sonia rushed forward. She slid between two armors, dodging their attacks and leaping up onto

the shoulders of a third. Casting out her chain, she leapt into the air, snagging the nearest

chandelier. Her lithe form swung through the air, reaching apex near the center of the room.
Turning, she returned back to the armors, smashing into them with both feet and sending three

of them tumbling over.

She smirked as the armor crashed and fell lifeless, but several more were still

approaching. Building back up her momentum, she swung from the chandelier, faster and faster

until she was peaking over the edge of the third floor balcony. Catching the railing with her foot,

she pulled herself up and released her chain with a twist. Twirling the chain one more time, she

spun it around her chest and waist, locking it in place.

She rushed into the adjoining room, a long hall with a grand piano at the center, shelves

of books all around. In a flash the lights were extinguished, but Sonia was unfazed. Reaching to

her belt, she unclasped a glass bottle with a glowing red liquid. She cast it at the shelves where

she knew the books must be and it exploded in a blaze of fire and light. Flames erupted from

the book shelves, spreading around the room and illuminating it. The light was restored none

too soon as a swarm of grotesque heads, kept aloft via bat wings, swooped down at her. Each

head screamed and contorted, the hair on it writhing like a nest of snakes. Sonia rolled and

dodged, avoiding their attacks. She raced toward the bookshelf, twisting in air to send a volley

of throwing knives behind her. Three hit their mark, dropping the creatures with earsplitting

screeches, but the remaining three closed in on her.

The hunter leapt against the flaming bookshelf, pushing off as fire licked her heels,

vaulting up and over the incoming creatures. As she landed, she loosed her chain once more,

spinning it through the air. The creatures swooped around, barely missing the bookshelf, but

they did not miss her chain. In an instant the spiked end of her chain was launched through the

air, lodging itself into the leftmost creature's face, crashing it into the flaming shelves. The other

two continued forward past their fallen comrade, but a quick jerk from Sonia freed the barbed

end and sent it hurling into the back of the closest creature, her further pulling crashing it into

the remaining head.

 The pair of demon winged heads floundered on the floor for only a moment before

Sonia's boot came down on them, crushing each one and splattering her in their blood. Panting,

the hunter turned to the exit of the hallway. "What further hell do you have for me, Pasha?" she

cried out. There was only the sound of the burning books to answer her. Gritting her teeth, she

pressed forward.

The hallways of the manor seemed to stretch and rearrange at will. She would look

down one corridor only to find the one she had come from had disappeared. Stairs appeared at

random, leading to nowhere. The very floor beneath her fell away at the slightest touch. Doors

ignited into blazes before she could pass through them. Still, the hunter pressed forward.

Her breath fogged in the air as she approached a large, wooden door. She stared at it

for several moments before approaching, producing her chain and kicking the barbed end at it.

It struck the door with a satisfying thud; this, at least, was no illusion. This also meant this was

where Pasha wanted her to go. With a roar she kicked open the door, revealing a large

ballroom. Candles and torches lit the room, with various colored glass panes transforming it into

a kaleidoscope of light and shadow. In the center of the hall, with the light dancing about him,

stood a tall man with fiery red hair and a regal, blue coat with gold trim, lined with fur. He smiled

at the hunter as she approached. "It has been a while since we shared a dance, Sonia. Shall

we?"

"Pasha, I'm not here to-"

SMASH! The colored panes of glass crashed down as demonic, winged creatures, each

the size of a large man fell from the rafters, landing around the hunter. They roared at her with

twisted faces and broken horns jutting from their skulls. The hunter screamed in frustration as

they lunged at her, weaving and dodging their blows. Loosing blades from her belt once more,

she stabbed two of the creatures, but left herself open to the attacks of the rest. Her blood

spilled across the ballroom as their strikes sent the hunter tumbling. Reaching to her belt once

more, she produced a vial of holy water, hurling it at the creatures. It crashed against them, its
contents burning the demons. They writhed and shrieked in agony as she quickly righted

herself, stabbing her dagger into their hearts and heads, ending them. She turned in time to see

the red haired man, Pasha, appear before her. With a sweep of his arm she sailed across the

room.

Instantly the man was behind her as she struggled to her feet, seizing her by her long

braid. With a sweeping motion, she buried her dagger in his heart and kicked off from his chest,

pulling herself loose. The man stumbled only a step or two, smiling. His grin revealed two long,

pointed fangs. "Give in Sonia. I will make this painless."

"Is this really necessary?" she spat.

"Only so long as you resist me," he replied.

With a wave of his hand, the floor around her cracked and broke, skeletons clawing their

way up from the open chasms. Sonia skirted backward, turning to rush for the door, but flames

encircled the entire perimeter of the ballroom. She turned in time to dodge the first creature's

attack, but the next ripped its bony hand across her raised arm, spilling her blood once more.

Biting and scratching at her, they swarmed the hunter, but she managed to throw their light

frames back with a few well placed kicks. As the creatures closed back in, she seized a nearby

standing candelabrum, spinning it like a staff and using the heavy base to crush the skull of one

of her advancing adversaries. Spinning the makeshift weapon around, she stabbed the prongs

into the next skeleton's rib cage, twisting and locking it in. Lifting the creature, she used it's body

like a flail, slamming it into its cohorts.

She moved to finish the last standing creature when a disembodied arm seized her leg,

causing her to stumble. She kicked it off in time for the advancing skeleton to push past her

weapon and tackle her to the ground. It pummeled its fists into her chest and face repeatedly,

the hunter shielding herself as best she could. Screaming, she caught the monster's arms and

pulled her feet up, pressing against its chest. With a sick pop the arms pulled free and the
skeleton reeled back across the floor. She kipped up to her feet, using one dismembered arm to

knock the skeleton's skull loose, then turned to hurl the other at the vampire Pasha.

He laughed as the arm evaporated before him. Folding his arms he rose into the air, his

smile still piercing the darkness. Sonia screamed as she rushed toward him, but a wall of flames

erupted before her. She turned back, but more flames spread behind her, trapping her in place.

The vampire roared with laughter as the ground beneath her glowed bright red. Feeling the heat

well beneath her, she plucked another bottle of holy water from her belt and smashed it into the

ground. The glowing subsided, but she could see the water begin to boil away. She cursed

herself for having left her cloak in the grand hall as she looked for her exit. The chandelier? Too

high for her chain. The curtains? Too far away. She felt over her belt for more holy water, but

she was out. Looking about she saw through the flames the writhing form of one of the

skeletons, the candelabrum still buried in it's chest. Unraveling her chain, she shot it out,

snaring the candelabrum and pulling it back to her. As the last bit of holy water beneath her

boiled away, she jammed the makeshift pole into the floor and vaulted over the edge of the

flames. Fire burst from the floor as she flew into the air, engulfing her for only a moment before

she rolled clear. She screamed as she rolled and patted the flames out on her clothing, but her

hair was too much to stop. With a flash of her dagger her long, beautiful braid fell to the ground,

burning.

"Such a pity. Your hair was so beautiful," the vampire quipped.

"End this Pasha!"

"Your surrender is all that will end this."

Sonia roared, pulling loose her chain once more, twirling it through the air as she raced

toward the creature. Pasha merely held his hand forward and the cracked chunks of the floor

rose and flew at her. She slid under one, dodged to the side of the next, and leapt into the air,

vaulting off the last and sending her barbed chain sailing through the creature before it

disappeared, merely another illusion.

 "You still haven't learned have you?" his voice echoed through the ballroom.

In a flash he was in front of her. Then gone. Then to her right. Vanished. Behind her.

Disappeared. Over and over the vampire flashed in and out of her sight, dancing around her.

She let loose her chain, striking at each glimpse of Pasha, looping the chain back to swing

through the next, but it never met it's mark. After several tries and the long, odious laugh of the

vampire taunting her, she pulled free her last vial of the red liquid, casting it straight into the air.

The sound of glass shattering confirmed her suspicions and she looked up to see the red haired

vampire engulfed in flames.

He flailed and cursed, crashing into a large balcony that hung over the far end of the

ballroom, trying to rid himself of the flames. Sonia knew she would not have this opportunity

again and raced toward him, climbing a nearby curtain to gain the elevation she needed. As

Pasha tumbled into the balcony seating, she cast out her chain once more, lashing it around the

guard rail that surrounded it. With a swing and a tug, she pulled herself up to the vampire's

level. He rid himself of the distracting flames just as she stood up.

The pair stared at one another in silence for several seconds, Sonia panting and Pasha

snarling. With a growl the vampire lunged at her, but she avoided the attack flipping over him as

she opened a loop in her chain. She pulled it tight around his throat, but Pasha turned quickly.

His powerful claws slashed at her, but she spun to the left, looping another section of chain

around his neck. He pulled at the chain, but she took the opportunity to plant both feet into his

chest and tighten the loop around his neck. He batted at her, but she spun to the right, once

more looping another section around his neck.

"This... won't... stop me..." he growled.

"I'm not finished."

Gripping both ends of the chain tightly, she leapt over the edge of the balcony, pulling

Pasha against the guardrail. Hands at his throat, and back curved over the edge, the vampire

held his ground. Dangling from the chain, Sonia simply exhaled and released the barbed end of
her chain. Though it took only a second or two, it felt like forever, as if Sonia were floating down

from a cloud. The floor rushed to meet her as her chain dug into Pasha's neck, spinning and

slicing through the flesh, topped off by the spiked barb at the end.

Sonia hit the floor and rolled to disperse her momentum, but it was still a hard landing.

She gripped her right leg as she collapsed to the floor, her eyes drifting over to the severed

head of the vampire. She collapsed back, wincing in pain as her injuries began to catch up with

her. Had she actually done it? She groaned as she shifted herself, trying to get a closer look at

the head. Had she actually managed to kill Pasha? The part of her that had traveled so far for

answers was frustrated and sad, but there was another part, a significant part, that was

suddenly relieved. She was free.

She smiled. Her smile turned to laughter, laughter that echoed through the ballroom,

laughter that only ceased when a drop hit the hunter's forehead. Sonia froze, eyes opening

slowly. She didn't need to touch the drop to know what it was, for as she stared up, the entire

ceiling had become a rippling pool of blood. Her legs trembled as she followed the blood back to

the wall and down to the balcony. Pasha's body twisted and convulsed as streams of blood

stretched out from it, reaching out to coat the walls. Sonia fought up to her feet and scrambled

to the door, but the wall of blood crashed down in front of her. She turned to run, but the flood

came from all directions. In seconds she was swept up in a river of crimson, struggling just to

breathe. It surrounded her, gripped her, smothered her. She lashed out, but her attacks were

futile. There was nothing left but surrender. She took one last breath before the room was

completely filled and she began to sink to the bottom. Before darkness took her, a lone, deep

voice echoed in her mind.

"You have done well, my pupil."

 Chapter 3

When Sonia awoke again, she was in an enormous bed, a red canopy hanging above her and

satin sheets covering her. She sat up with a jolt, looking for any signs of her foe. Only the pale,

carriage driver was present, standing at the door to the bedroom. She lifted her sheets slightly

to see she was at least modestly dressed in a silk nightgown before throwing back the sheets.
 "Where is he?" she asked. The servant gestured at the window. She turned to see the

sun hanging low in the sky. She must have been out the entire day. That meant Pasha would be

sleeping now, too. "What does he want?"

The servant pointed his bony finger to the closet where a long, red gown hung in waiting

for her. "Of course," she grumbled, "dinner." She stared out the window once more. There was

still enough time, she could escape now. She could commandeer one of Pasha's horses and

return to London and never set foot in this manor again. To Hell with Pasha. To Hell with

Roosevelt and to Hell with werewolves. "The Magus Device," she muttered as she sat back

down on the bed. Eyes clenched shut, she nodded. "I'll be down directly."

The servant nodded and stepped out, closing the door with a loud thud.

***

Sonia stepped down the cascading stairs into the dining room, a lavish table awaiting

her with Pasha sitting at the head. He stood and bowed. Sonia paused and watched him, her

hands drifting to the bandages her borrowed gown covered. Continuing closer, she was met by

her host who wore an identical, unmarred blue suit and a bright smile. Forcing herself to act

within the rules of proper decorum, she presented her gloved hand, which he took and kissed.

She shivered.

"You look lovely tonight," Pasha commented as she took her seat.

"Well, I suppose a bit of rouge can hide the bruising," she replied. At that moment the

gaunt servant approached, setting down a bowl with red liquid inside. She stared at it for several

moments before turning to her host.

"Tomato soup," he assured her, taking his seat.

 She took a cautious sniff before indulging, finding herself quite famished. Still, she

presented herself as a woman of class, resisting both the urge to slurp the soup down in one go

as well as the urge to hurl obscenities at the man across from her.

"I was quite impressed by your performance," Pasha continued, his servant setting a

similar bowl before him. "I see life in America has not dulled your talents; you almost had me."

"If I was truly attempting to kill you, I would've done it during the day," she remarked.

"A wise decision. So, what information was so important as to make you come all the

way to London?"

"I've been contracted to kill werewolves," she answered.

"My student is having difficulties killing wolves?" he replied with a furrowed brow. "I feel

insulted."

"I'm not being contracted to kill a handful of wolves, Pasha. I've been contracted to kill

them all."

The vampire's scowl was quickly replaced with a slight smile. "All of them?"

"Yes," she replied between spoonfuls of soup. "It seems the United States is suffering

from... an infestation."

"Any country with werewolves is so cursed; they are an abomination."

"I suppose you would be the expert," she replied.

"You jest, Sonia, but I have seen monsters that would make Hell itself quake.

Werewolves are a disease that must be purged."

"Good. Then you'll help me?"

"With conditions," he replied.

Sonia lowered her spoon, scowling. "Name them."

"In time. I can assume that you have no issue killing the foul beasts, yes? It is finding

and attracting them before the moonlight fails you."

 "Indeed," she confirmed. "If we attempt to track them the traditional way, we may hope to

kill one a month, perhaps a pair. It won't even keep up with the rate at which new ones are

spawned."

"Then you have no choice but to gather the infected souls together and purge them all at

once. Very well. I believe I have the knowledge you seek."

"Good. Then let's not waste time, the trip back to America is long."

"Unfortunately, I believe the book I require was burned in an unfortunate accident last

night." Sonia's eyes narrowed and her fists clenched. "But... if you give me a few days, I can

perhaps remember the formula for a proper Wolf's Bait."

"A few days?" she exclaimed. "The full moon is less than a week away and I have a very

long trip back."

"Then it would be in your best interest to help me relax so that I might recall the formula

more quickly."

***

Sonia spent the next day forcing smiles as she indulged the vampire, spending the

evening dancing with him, listening to music, and, of course, listening to his tales of adventure

from across the centuries. She had heard these stories many times, but Pasha seemed to have

few people these days to share them with. In fact, when he was with her, whether it be dancing

or conversing, he seemed to light up in a way she hadn't seen since she was a young girl.

"You were such a tiny thing back then," he mused as the pair walked beneath the light of

the waxing moon. "I had no faith that you would ever amount to a hunter."

"Such confidence. I can't imagine why I had trouble," she replied, her black gown trailing

lightly behind her as they toured his garden.

 "You jest, but I will always admit when I am wrong. I have trained many hunters over the

centuries and you have proved to be one of the most intriguing students I've ever had."

"Intriguing? Not talented or gifted?"

"No, far better. You captured something in me, Sonia."

The hunter shifted uncomfortably, turning her gaze away. "Why do you insist on

speaking like that, Pasha?"

"Because I have lived long enough to ask for what I want rather than want in silence," he

replied, pausing their pace. He stepped closer to Sonia, trailing his fingers along her cheek. She

shivered and pulled away.

"You presume too much, Pasha."

"Do I? Surely you must be lonely since your husband passed. Wouldn't it be better to

spend you days in the company of one like me?"

"My days are quite fulfilling as they are. When I'm not engaged in the destruction of foul

hellspawn, I still have my Richter."

"Richter is as welcome here as you are, Sonia. Surely he would benefit from a father

figure."

Sonia tensed up, turning away to hide her sneer. "My husband and my family are none

of your concern."

"I meant no disrespect," he said looking toward his flowers. "Come, let us speak of other

things."

"Like the formula?" she replied, stepping further into the garden.

"It is... coming to me."

"I'm quite sure," Sonia said, moving from planter to planter. Even in the moonlight, the

garden was beautiful. She approached a stone fountain, topped with a sad angel. Here she

paused, reflecting on her trip.

"I am thinking they are giving you something big, no?"

 "Pardon?" Sonia asked.

"Your employers. For you to return to me after all this time, they must be offering

something quite valuable."

"Perhaps. That is not your concern nor part of our deal."

"Would life with me be so miserable, my dear?" Pasha asked, placing a cold hand on her

bare shoulder.

"It would not be a life, Pasha. I will never allow myself to become..."

"Like me?"

Sonia turned to face him. "Yes," she answered firmly. "What you want from me I will

not... cannot give." With these words she turned from the vampire and moved back toward the

verdant plants that surrounded the fountain. Before her was a planter filled with camomile. Even

in the moonlight, she could see the beautiful colors of these and all the other blooms, all

carefully chosen and cultivated so that their owner might appreciate them even at night when

other flowers closed their petals.

As she looked closer, she took notice of something out of order. Beneath the camomile

where more flowers, a pale pink. She leaned closer. "Are these roses?" she asked.

"Wild roses," Pasha answered, moving to her side. "They showed up in my garden one

day." The vampire smiled as he knelt beside the plant, reaching his hand out, halting just inches

from the roses. "I cannot touch wild roses. I cannot disturb them at all."

"Why hasn't your servant removed them?"

"Because... they remind me of you."

Sonia stood, taking a deep breath. She looked up into the waxing moon. "You won't give

me the formula unless I agree, will you?"

"I promise I will make every day a paradise for you."

 "That's not a promise you can keep," she replied, turning to face him. "Still... I have my

obligations and you seem to be the only solution I currently have. Let me have this contract and

you may claim me after."

Pasha leaned closer, looking for deceit in her eyes. "When you have finished your

contract-"

"You may come to claim me."

"I will hold you to this, Sonia."

"I know that full well."

"This... payment... it must be something incredible," Pasha remarked.

"That is not your concern. Do we have an accord?"

Pasha nodded solemnly. "Agreed."

"Thank you. Now, I need that formula. Time is running out."

***

Sonia stared at the parchment in her hands. Pasha's handwriting was so elegant, so

formal. Everything about him was, really, and yet, it was all just a facade, wasn't it? She looked

up from the list of ingredients for the Wolf's Bait, watching as Pasha stood before his coffin in

silence. He has been standing there for several minutes, leaving the huntress uncertain of what

to say. Taking a last look at the formula, she folded the parchment and tucked it away.

"Thank you again, Pasha. This will help immensely."

"When the full moon is passed, your mission will be over. I will come for you then."

"Just give me this time, Pasha. Let me do this... as a human."

"I will keep my word. And I will hold you to yours."

 With these words, Pasha cast out an arm, his coffin swinging open. His body began to

blur and fade, melting into a hazy mist. Sonia took a step back as the mist swirled and floated

around her, finally moving into the coffin and taking the form of a sleeping Pasha as the lid

closed. Sonia looked to the window, watching the first beams of light creeping over the horizon.

It was only a few minutes later when she coming down the steps to meet Pasha's

servant at his carriage. He looked impatiently at her as the door swung open.

"In just a moment," she said, approaching the front of the carriage. "I have one last thing

to take care of. Please, wait here. I won't be long." The servant groaned and turned his gaze

back to the horses. Sonia nodded in appreciation and made her way toward the garden. The

servant watched her from the corner of his eyes, but couldn't see what she was doing as she

passed through and back into the manor.

Once again, she stood before Pasha's coffin, running a hand along the grain. "Pasha,"

she said aloud, lifting three wild roses, "you are welcome to claim me when next you rise." Her

face still and emotionless, she placed the roses atop the coffin. She stared at the flowers for

several moments, thoughts dwelling on her past with Pasha, before producing a small can.

Opening it, she poured a viscous liquid over the stems of the roses, sealing them to the coffin.

"Goodbye."
 Chapter 4

The carriage stopped at the docks, the morning sun burning away the light layer of fog that lay

over the city. Inside, Sonia stared at the list of ingredients to the Wolf's Bait. Some of them were

expected, but others seemed quite far fetched. She wondered if hornet's honey was something

she could even get in America. That was hardly her greatest concern at the moment, however.

She had tied up nearly all the loose ends in her trip, but what could be the most important still

remained.

Outside, the coach driver groaned gestured toward the door. Unaided, it swung open.

He sat still at the head for several moments, waiting, before he turned back to the open door.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, but I need your assistance," came Sonia's voice. The gaunt servant

dropped from the driver's seat with an audible thud, the carriage bouncing slightly as he

approached the door.

"In here," she urged, motioning for the servant to enter. With a low sigh, the driver

stepped inside the carriage. It first sized up Sonia, then examined the coach interior. Upon

seeing nothing impeding the hunter's exit, it turned to stare at her.

"Do you not see it?" she asked. The driver only stared at her. "I simply can't leave until...

oh my, what happened to your face?" The servant carefully ran a hand along his face. "No,

around the mouth," she said. The servant touched his fingers to his parted lips, head cocked

curiously.

"No, no... Come here, I'll get it," Sonia instructed, the driver leaning forward. With a quick

motion, the hunter's gloved hand darted in and out of the servants mouth. His eyes slowly
closed and he fell back against the opposite seat of the carriage, stiff as a board. Sonia grinned

and stepped out, hoisting her considerably lighter trunk from the roof.

"Don't worry, dear," she said before closing the door. "I'm sure he'll find you when he

eventually escapes. Or perhaps he'll just make another." With a shrug and a smile she

approached her ship, handing her trunk off to a porter.

As she ascended the gang plank she tossed aside a small, withered scroll wrapped in

twine. As it floated down into the water, she smirked. "Golems."

***

"I must say, your new hair suits you, Madam."

Sonia rolled her eyes as she dropped a folded piece of paper on the table before him.

With a sigh she took her seat at the cafe table, Mr. Roosevelt opening and scanning through the

list. A waiter approached, setting a cup of tea before her, which she accepted with a nod. "Mr.

Roosevelt, if you only knew what I went through to end up with this look," Sonia replied as she

sipped her tea.

"Is this everything?" he asked, adjusting his pince nez.

"My source is trying at times, but reliable. If your people can get everything, we should

be ready to mobilize in a day."

"Bully!" Roosevelt exclaimed as he looked over the list. "Incredible work, my dear. You

are sure this will do the trick? I've not heard of some of these... items."

"My source told me that every werewolf within a hundred miles would be able to smell it.

We should have it brewed and set up at least a day before the full moon," she continued.

"Ah, so the beasts can smell it even as men."

"Indeed. They won't know why they're attracted, but it will lure them just same."
 "Good work, Mrs. Trevor. I will have my men begin copying the book right away. Expect

it waiting for you when this is over."

Sonia set her cup down, trying not to let her mind dwell on the hell of the last few days.

There was fresh hell waiting for her that required her attention. "Have you set a location?"

"By all rights, we should wait another month and try to lure the beasts out west,"

Roosevelt said, handing the list to a waiting agent, "but I fret to think what damage will occur if

we delay the operation further. I've selected a relatively isolated forest near the border. It should

keep us away from the eyes of the public."

"Is that wise?" Sonia asked. "These creatures will have an advantage in a forested

area."

"Mrs. Trevor, I led my men through hellfire at San Juan. I have no fear of untrained

beasts."

"I hope that confidence is warranted," she replied, standing. "Please send me the exact

location. I have preparations to make."

****

Young Richter tossed and turned in his bed. The silence of the night always seemed to

disturb him, as though it were disingenuous, concealing some great threat. He remembered that

when his father was alive, there was always the calming sound of life within the manor after

Richter retired to bed. Music from his father's phonograph or Grant playing the piano would

softly lull him to sleep. But these days there was only silence and the terror that he knew hid

therein.
 Finally slipping from bed, Richter walked to his window. The pale light of a nearly full

moon shined down over the grounds, illuminating a car at the front of the manor. The young boy

pulled his long hair from in front of his eyes, leaning closer to the glass to see Grant loading a

black trunk into the vehicle. A coldness seized Richter, forcing him to stumble back. He looked

toward the door. In an instant he was through it, racing down the stairs, his pale blue nightgown

flaring as he bolted to the front hall.

"Richter? What are you doing out of bed?" Sonia asked.

The young boy froze in front of his mother. She stood, silhouetted in the moonlight, her

usual dress replaced with a tight fitting black suit. He saw the shapes of pistols hugging her

thighs and chain wrapped around her waist.

"My apologies, Madam," Grant called from the door, rushing to the young boy's side. "I

should have ensured Master Richter was asleep before I began loading the car.."

"Where are you going, Mother?" the young boy asked.

"Richter, return to your bed," Sonia replied curtly.

"Come, Master Richter," Grant said, taking the young boy's hand.

"Mother! Are you leaving?" Richter asked, tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

"Master Richter, your mother has important business," Grant assured him.

Sonia closed her eyes, sighing. Holding up a hand, she paused her servant and stepped

closer to her son, kneeling. "I have important work to do, Richter, but I promise I will be back

soon."

"Where are you going?" the boy repeated.

"Don't worry, my sweet child. I won't be gone long." She forced a smile and ran a gloved

finger along his cheek, wiping away a tear. "Would you like Mother to bring you back a toy?"

"Don't go," Richter pleaded. "You're going to go away like Father."

"Master Richter!" Grant began before being silenced by Sonia.

"My dear Richter, I will be back before you know it. I promise."
 "You promise? You promise you'll come back?"

"Yes, my dear," Sonia said softly. "And when I get back, I promise I won't go anywhere

for a long time." Richter shifted, uneasy. His mother caressed his red cheek, smiling as sweetly

as she could manage. "Now, go to bed, my sweet child."

Richter sniffled and nodded, allowing Grant to lead him back up the stairs. Sonia turned

moving toward the door, pausing only as a small voice called out to her once more.

"I love you, Mother."

Sonia hesitated, standing in the open doorway. Without turning, she simply replied, "And

I, you."

Chapter 5

The sun hung low in the sky as Sonia stepped through the makeshift base camp. Trees

surrounded her and the dozens of men that were moving about, setting up guns and reinforcing
barricades. A few of the men watched her curiously, but her confident stride convinced most

that she had business here.

As she approached the large tent at the center of the camp, a younger man with light

hair approached, a rifle laid over his shoulder. She hesitated as he stepped in her path, raising a

curious eyebrow. He seemed unfazed and offered his hand. "Hello there, Ma'am. Jesse

Langdon."

"Charmed," she replied, taking his hand. "And who are you in all this?"

"Oh, I'm Mr. Roosevelt's right-hand man. I've been with him since Kettle Hill," he

remarked.

"Really? You seem quite young to be an agent," she replied, looking him over.

"I'm twenty-eight, ma'am."

"And you were at Kettle Hill? Which would have made you -"

"I was twenty-eight then, too," he replied with a smile. This forced a smirk over the

hunter's lips "I'm assuming you're Miss Trevor."

"Arrived at that all by yourself, did you?" she said, joining him as they moved toward the

tent.

"Mr. Roosevelt said to keep an eye out for you. He's working out the last of the details

for the operation."

"You seem to have great confidence in him," she said.

"With all respect, I watched that man get his glasses shot off in Cuba. He pulled another

pair out and marched right into the gunfire."

"Bravery should not be confused for competence," she remarked as they entered the

tent.

"Quite so!" boomed the voice of the former president. "But the fact that I'm still alive

should prove that I'm more than up to this task, Mrs. Trevor."
 Sonia offered her hand, which Roosevelt took with a nod. She and Jesse followed him

back to a table in the middle of the large tent which had a map spread out over it. Roosevelt

gestured to several circles across it which marked the location of vats of Wolf Bait.

"Jesse has been instrumental in setting the bait over the last few days. We left a trail that

leads to this very base, where we will eliminate the poor creatures," he explained.

"How many wolves do you expect?" Sonia asked.

"It's hard to tell," Roosevelt answered, running his thumb and forefinger over his spruce

mustache pensively. "We don't have exact numbers on the infected from the area, but we're

expecting over a dozen."

"Not bad," Jesse commented. "Shot a lot more Spaniards than that in San Juan."

"Charming," Sonia quipped, turning back to the map. "Do you have enough silver

ammunition and wolf's bane?"

"We're a bit light on the silver, but it's been my experience that lead will suffice in large

quantities," Roosevelt replied.

"Is this really the time to be skimping on supplies? But, then again, I suppose you did

lead a cavalry unit without any horses," she said.

The president roared with laughter, his smile broad and imposing. "You see, Jesse? I

like this woman."

"I want to inspect your weapons before the moon rises," she continued. "Perhaps I can

come up with something to save your men's lives."

"Of course," Roosevelt replied, leading the pair out of the tent. A few paces away was a

large barrel, sealed. He explained that this held more of the Wolf Bait and would be opened at

moonrise to help lure the beasts to them. Sonia inspected the container, unsettled by the dents

and chips across it. From there they were led to a large series of boxes which Jesse opened.

Inside were a mixture of several supplies, including ammunition, pistols and a few bottles, which

Sonia pulled out to inspect.

 "Whiskey?" she asked.

"While I do not partake," Roosevelt explained, "it's simply good planning to have

something for the men when this operation succeeds." With a quirked eyebrow, she let the

bottle fall back into the box and continued.

From there the trio inspected a few nests where Roosevelt and Jesse had set up tripod

mounted machine guns. Sonia pursed her lips to one side as she looked them over, turning

back to the smiling, mustachioed man. "How old are these?"

"They're M1895s," Jesse answered. "They're good guns."

"I considered Gatlings, but mobility is an issue here," Roosevelt added. "Trust me,

Madam, they'll put down your wolves."

Sonia rubbed the bridge of her nose as she marched away from the line of guns. "This

entire operation is a insane," she said as she retreated toward the tent.

"I understand it lacks subtlety," Roosevelt remarked as she moved off, "but time is not in

our favor. I'm sure we'll have things ironed out for the next run."

"Next?" Sonia asked, turning sharply.

"Of course. And there will be proper compensation for your time."

Sonia didn't answer, instead turning to enter the tent and make her final preparations for

the night.

****

With the full moon rising into the darkened sky, the forest sat silent. Men held their

breath as they gripped their weapons tightly. Sonia, with silver daggers and her whip wrapped

around her waist, nodded to Jesse. With a loud pop, he wrenched the top of the large barrel

near the tent off, the thick smell of Wolf's Bait now wafting through the entire camp. Sonia

steeled her nerves. Clearly Roosevelt hadn't properly planned out their position, as they were
open from all directions. There was little Sonia could do to move an entire camp in one night

and Roosevelt would not hear of delaying the operation, so here she stood, hands moving to

check the pistols on her thighs.

It started easily enough. Rustling in the trees drew the men's attention. There were a few

calls of "wolf!" which drew Sonia over. Before she could offer any order, Roosevelt commanded

them to open fire. Rifles rang out into the dark night as the creature in the forest began

retreating.

"These aren't soldiers!" Sonia cried.

"I've hunted plenty of beasts, Madam. These creatures must be eradicated at a

distance," Roosevelt retorted.

"They're careful! You're going to lose your bead on them!"

Before their argument could escalate, gunfire rang out once more. The pair turned to see

a creature, something like a man but with fur covering its entire body, rushing toward the camp.

Shot after shot riddled the creature, dropping it to its knees.

"Aim for the head!" Roosevelt commanded.

His words were easier heard than acted upon as the creature seemed to recover quickly,

leaping back toward the forest. Roosevelt marched toward the line to look for signs of the

creature, but at that moment shots were fired on the opposite side of the camp. The pair turned

and rushed over, watching as the men shot wildly into the darkness.

"Did you find it?" Roosevelt barked.

"Two of them!" a soldier cried. "They're diving in and out of the shadows."

"They're testing the defenses," Sonia said. "I've never dealt with a dozen at once, but I'd

be willing to wager they'll swarm once they find the weakest spot."

"Then it is good that Rough Riders don't have weak spots," Roosevelt remarked, lifting

his rifle. "Use the lights! Look for the shine in their eyes!" Lights flashed across the foliage,

Roosevelt following them through the sight of his rifle. The golden flicker of wolf eyes glinted in
the darkness. BANG! A terrible roar echoed in the forest as a creature stumbled forward,

clutching its now bloody face. "Fire!"

Sonia watched in a mixture of awe and incredulity as the agents turned soldiers fired on

the beast, bringing it to the ground. Before the could celebrate, a second rushed from the

darkness, charging the line. Guns fired and the beast staggered, but not before reaching one of

the gunners, knocking aside his machine gun and ripping at him. Several men moved in,

unloading shot after shot at the creature and forcing him off their now bloodied comrade.

Cries rang out from the first side again; the wolf was there now. More cries from the west

side. Now from the north. Sonia looked around, watching as the lanterns illuminated the forest

and shots rang out. She drew her pistols as she watched the targets grow in number. Seven.

More gunshots. Ten. More cries. Thirteen. Roosevelt moved furiously through the camp,

commanding his men, Jesse rushing to fill the gaps he left behind. The creatures were

beginning to swarm.

Drawing a long breath, Sonia spun on her heels, leveling her pistol at an approaching

creature. It had barreled through three men and was soaring through the air as she pulled the

trigger and stepped aside. With a mad howl, the creature crashed into the ground, clutching its

chest. She watched the pathetic thing writhe for several seconds before going limp. She ignored

a chill that ran through her as she looked at it. It still wore clothing. It was a man, or was once,

and now was this... thing. What atrocities had it committed without even being aware. This man,

whoever he was, woke up that morning and put on a jacket, but now, as this beast, he would

never return to that life.

Before she could contemplate the matter further, a second creature was charging the

line. It whined and cried as machine gun fire severed it's leg and sent it sprawling through the

camp. Sonia added one silver bullet to end its misery before marching to the opposite side.

Waiting for her were several men, all engaged in stabbing and shooting a wolf among their

ranks. The hunter leveled her pistol to end the creature but another firearm rang out first. As the
wolf tumbled to the ground, howling, Sonia traced the shot back to Roosevelt, his rifle smoking

as he drew a saber. He pushed through his men and hacked at the poor creature several times

before beheading it. She narrowed her eyes in disgust at his actions, but when he turned, his

face was not the boisterous, loud visage it had been earlier. He seemed to genuinely pity the

creature, taking no movement to celebrate his victory or belittle the creature further. Instead, he

moved on to the next target, directing his men to shore up the line. Her judgment eased, she

turned to find her next target.

After several minutes of fighting, the gunshots became less frequent. Then men were

flashing their lanterns through the darkness, but seemed unable to find any more targets.

"Bully!" Roosevelt cried, surveying the scene. "I think we've got the bulk now."

"I doubt it," Sonia replied. "They're regrouping."

"I thought these werewolves didn't act together," he asked.

"I've never faced this many at once. My information may be... unreliable in that regard."

Roosevelt pulled his rifle over his shoulder, staring into the darkness. "Then I'll make

sure to update the Bureau's records after this."

"WOLF!"

The pair turned toward the cry from the eastern front. Gunfire rang out as two wolves

rushed in. As the men concentrated their fire, Sonia noted movement in the darkness.

"It's a distraction," she cried. "They're drawing the fire!"

Sonia's suspicions were confirmed as she turned, six wolves coming in from the side,

hitting the men from behind. Sonia moved in quickly, unloading her weapons, and dropping the

wolves, one by one, but as they fell, more and more flooded in to replace them.

Through the camp, at least fifteen werewolves had pierced the line and were fighting

hand to hand with the men. Sonia's silver ammunition was drained by a final creature that was

tearing into one of the men, sending blood and viscera splattering across the ground. She had

no time to reload her weapon as another wolf was rushing for her. Dropping the pistols, she
unsheathed her silver blades, deflecting the claws of the creature as it attacked. She stumbled

back, avoiding the lightning quick swipes as the creature pressed in on her. Timing her

counterattack, she landed a solid kick into the creature's midsection, stopping it's assault long

enough for her blade to slice through its throat. The creature whined and gurgled, clutching its

neck, leaving itself open for the hunter force one blade through its heart.

Sonia had no time to recover as two more creatures were now attacking a gunner,

ripping the firearm from its tripod and slashing through the man's chest. In an instant, Sonia's

chain was out and it's silver tipped spikes were ripping through the creature's face. As it reared

back, Sonia rushed in, throwing her entire body weight behind a kick to the second wolf. She

turned quickly to assess the gunner, but it was too late. The blood and open wounds told her he

would last more than a few minutes. She cursed silently as she turned to face the retaliating

creatures, her chain slicing through the air in a spiral before her boot sent it shooting out again,

piercing the first wolf's chest. The second leapt at her, slashing and biting, but the hunter

dodged and weaved, pulling free her chain and sending it wrapping around her attacker's legs.

The wolf crashed to the ground and before it could right itself, Sonia buried her knife into its

back.

Several yards away, Roosevelt bashed another werewolf in the face with the butt of his

empty rifle, sending it tumbling back. The former president roared as drew his saber once more

and plunged it into the creature's chest. The wolf howled, but refused to fall, pushing forward to

tackle Roosevelt to the ground. With it's gaping maw snapping at him, Roosevelt threw a short

haymaker, connecting with the wolf's snout and knocking it back. Turning the table, he leapt on

the creature's chest and began pummeling it over and over before seizing the embedded saber.

Jerking and tugging at the sword, he widened the wound in the creature's chest, ripping and

tearing at it's flesh as it howled in pain. Lifting the blade up and out, he sank it once more into

the creature's heart. With blood dripping down his face, Roosevelt watched as the life drained

from the creature. Standing, he pulled loose his blade and grabbed a fallen man's gun.
 "Come foul beasts and taste the horns of this bull moose!"

Whether from the roar of Roosevelt's words or simply as a tactical move, the few wolves

in left in the camp retreated into the forest. Panting, he marched toward a bloodied but

undamaged Sonia. She picked up her discarded pistols and began the process of reloading.

"A dozen?" she asked with a frown.

"I said 'over'" he replied. "Jesse!" The young man from earlier limped into view, his

clothes torn and bloodied, but otherwise seeming okay. "Get the wounded to inside the tents."

"Shouldn't we get them into the trucks, sir?"

"They're waiting for that. This isn't over."

Sonia surveyed the forest as the wounded were slowly brought into the tents. She

couldn't be sure how many more were left, but it was certainly more than the remaining men

could handle. What would Pasha think to see her having trouble with such loathsome

creatures?

"H-help..."

Sonia turned to see a young man on the ground, writhing in pain. She called for a lantern

as she knelt beside him. Blood was pooling around him, far more a man should survive. He

clutched his chest and neck tightly and Sonia could see this was the source of the blood loss.

The young man shivered and convulsed, grimacing in pain. Taking the lantern, Sonia pulled his

eyelids open wide, revealing golden irises.

"P-please..." he repeated, reaching a weak hand toward Sonia.

She handed off the lantern and stood, unholstering her pistol. She took a deep breath,

shaking her head as took aim, but a strong, rough hand fell over hers.

"Stand down, Hunter," Roosevelt commanded.

"He's turning," she argued.

"I'm aware." Sonia released her grip, allowing Roosevelt to take the pistol. Stepping

closer, he knelt beside the young man. "What's your name?"

 "M-Murdock... sir..." he stuttered.

"Where are you from?"

"South.... D-Dakota."

"A good place," Roosevelt replied, gripping the young man's hand. "They breed strong

men there."

"I... I don't want to die... " the young man wept.

"We all have to face death," Roosevelt replied, "what defines us is who we are when we

meet the Reaper. You, Murdock, are a brave man."

"I... but... I ..."

"I don't make a habit of selecting cowards to ride with me. Are you with me, Murdock?

Are you one of my Rough Riders?" The young man, shaking and crying, clutched Roosevelt's

hand and nodded. "Then you are brave man."

Sonia raised a curious eyebrow as she watched. Roosevelt leaned closer to the young

man, nodding back.

"I only select the bravest to ride with me, and I selected you," he continued. "Now... are

you ready?" The young man's eyes streamed with blood and tears, but he nodded. Roosevelt

brought one hand to his forehead, saluting the young man. Murdock returned the gesture,

holding his hand in salute. As fangs began to push past the man's lips, Roosevelt pressed the

barrel of the pistol to his temple and pulled the trigger. Sonia flinched, turning away. A moment

later Roosevelt's was beside her, holding out her pistol.

"That was... unfortunate," she said, holstering her gun.

At that moment, Jesse ran up, still clutching his injuries. "Sir, it's not looking good."

"How many casualties?" Roosevelt asked.

"Half a dozen dead, nearly twenty injured."

Roosevelt looked toward the front line where the bodies a three werewolves lie beside a

collapsed machine gun. "This night will not be in vain," he replied.

 "I'm not sure that's up to you," Sonia said as the pair moved to survey the damage. "I

suspect there are still a number of them waiting out there and I doubt we have the manpower to

repel their next attack."

"Are you surrendering?" Roosevelt asked.

"Hardly," she replied, loosing her chain once more. "Only informing you that I'm likely to

be the only survivor."

Roosevelt grinned and shook his head. "Your faith in us is staggering, madam, but I will

not die tonight. Not without a hell of a fight."

Sonia cocked an eyebrow as she watched the older man pull his long coat off. Producing

his saber, he cut into it, tearing it in half and ripping loose a long strip. He approached one the

fallen machine gun and, without a word, tied the strip near the barrel and looped it around,

letting it hang from his neck and shoulder.

"You're going manually wield that thing?" she asked.

"Too many of my men have died tonight," he said moving toward the open barrel of

Wolf's Bait. Without any explanation, he removed his glasses and dunked his head into the

mixture, pulling it back with a splashing arc of liquid.

"You've gone mad!" Sonia noted.

"Not yet!" Roosevelt bellowed with a growing grin. Throwing open the box of rifles and

ammunition from earlier, he pulled free a bottle of whiskey. Calling for Jesse, the Rough Rider

procured the young man's lighter and shoved another strip of his coat into the neck of the bottle.

"What the hell is that?" Sonia asked as he pushed past her and walked into the

darkness.

"A little trick I discovered in Cuba," he announced, lighting cloth and hurling the bottle

into the canopy. It collided with a tall tree and flames exploded into the foliage, lighting up the

forest. "Jesse! I've changed my mind. Get the men to the trucks. I'll hold them off."

"You are insane," Sonia declared marching toward him.

 "You're free, my good lady. Go home. Your book will be waiting for you."

"My contract was through this mission," she argued, watching as the flames spread from

tree to tree. "Though you be a doddering fool of a man, I'll see you through this."

"Bully!" Roosevelt cried out, lifting up the machine gun. "Now, where will I mount their

heads?"

With only a few men following behind, the pair stepped into the ever brightening forest,

weapons at the ready. Sonia swung out her chain, pulling it back into a loop, eyes scanning the

darkness. "They're coming," she said coldly.

In just moments the sounds of rustling foliage and pattering feet echoed around them.

From the flames leapt creature after creature, fangs bared and claws at the ready. Sonia

launched the ball of her chain out, striking one in the face and tugging quickly to sink the barbs

in before tearing it loose. In one fluid motion the hunter swung the chain wide, striking another

attacking from the rear, the silver piercing it's heart as it ripped through.

More and more wolves bore down on her, but Sonia was unshakeable. Her chain

wrapped around one creature's throat, pulling it from mid-air and crashing it into two other

wolves. Before the group could right themselves, her pistols were brandished and ringing out in

the night. Three shots, three deaths.

Claws swiped from behind, but the hunter ducked and rolled, firing another shot into the

attack. Before she could turn again, yet another creature was on her, slashing across her back.

Blood stained the forest floor as Sonia stumbled forward from the blow, turning to fire into the

darkness. She looked, but her foe was already retreating into the flames, leaving her open and

confused. Before she could find her target, two new wolves came from either side, fangs and

claws aimed for her supple flesh. Ducking to one side, she threw an arm around one of the

charging beasts and swung behind it, pressing her gun directly to the base of it's skull and firing,
sending it tumbling into the second wolf. Another shot rang out from her other pistol and the

second wolf went limp.

Again, claws from the darkness slashed into her, this time across the backs of her

thighs, dropping the hunter to her knees. She twisted and fell to her back, guns up, but there

was still no target. Panting and stifling the screams of pain that were building inside her, she

scanned the flaming trees surrounding her for her adversary. Three more presented

themselves. Squeezing off three rounds, Sonia attempted to beat them back, but her shots went

astray as the wolves dodged and encircled her. As one, they bore down on the prone hunter,

but steeled nerved and hardened reflexes, the Sonia quickly emptied the last of her ammunition

into them, causing them to collapse on top of her.

Pinned under the weight of three wolves and with her pistol now useless, Sonia strained

to dislodge herself. Nearly free, a low, bestial growl halted her. She looked up to see a tall, lithe,

werewolf, it's claws stained in her blood. Any shred of humanity this creature might have once

possessed had long disappeared. With a roar the creature leapt, pinning her anew and driving

it's wicked claws into her shoulders. It's fangs bared, it made for her neck and face, but halted at

a metallic ring.

Sonia, grunting, cursing, had buried her pistol in the creature's jaws, and was doing

everything in her power to hold back those deadly teeth. Inch by inch, the creature pushed

closer, its hot, stinking breath burning her eyes. She couldn't hold back against the creature's

strength. She couldn't keep it at bay forever. And so, with a roar of her own, Sonia slammed her

head forward, crashing her forehead into the beast's muzzle.

With a whine and cry of surprise, the creature pulled back, grabbing it's injured face and

casting aside the pistol within its maw. With a howl it turned back and dove once more at Sonia,

jaws wide. A moment later, the creature fell limp to one side of the hunter, her silver blade

extruding from the back of it's skull.

 Only a few yards away, a large, older man with a pince nez and spruce mustache fired

wildly into the night, with two piles, one of bullet casings and one of wolves, growing at his feet.

He roared as he turned, his blade intercepting the jaws of an oncoming beast, allowing him to

jam the muzzle of his weapon into the wolf's chest. Shots rang out until the creature fell still at

his feet, Roosevelt taking not a moment of rest before engaging the next monster.

Fangs from the right. Teeth from the left. The bullets kept flying and blood continued

splattering across his clothing. When one body fell, his sights immediately moved to the next.

Moving forward, walking through the flames, he drew the beasts’ attention, luring them further

and further from the camp. For each one that passed him up, he turned his full attention and

sights, not only felling the creatures, but following up with his blade for good measure.

After several minutes, the telltale clicking of his weapon told the former president that he

had spent his supply of ammunition. Pulling loose the strap from his neck and shoulder, he

began swinging the gun like club, bashing it into oncoming creatures as he dared them

approach. Claws pierced his chest. Blood spilled from his back and arms. Still, Roosevelt

refused to fall. His blade slashed through the flames, spilling wolf blood, but they seemed to

recover before he could swing a second time.

Forced to his knees, Roosevelt held back the oncoming fangs with the flat of his blade,

both arms buckling under the pressure. One swing of the claws and his weapon flew into the

night. The beast roared. Roosevelt bared his own teeth. "Take me then, foul beast! Take me if

you can!"

The grim fangs lunged forward, only to halt inches from the roaring Roosevelt. He looked

down to its neck to see the glint of metal chain. The creature stumbled back, the chain now

sliding and sawing its flesh, the silver barb cutting a clean line as Sonia wrenched the beast's

head from it's shoulders.

Sonia lashed out her chain once more, the coils wrapping around the arm of a werewolf

behind Roosevelt. It tugged instinctively and Sonia leapt into the air with it, letting its strength
guide her kick, dropping the beast as she hit square in its chest. In an instant her blade was out

and buried in its chest.

Roosevelt turned slowly to look at the bloodied and bruised hunter as she rose to her

feet. He forced himself up, weakly, and tried to speak. Before he could utter a word, her blade

was loosed again and flying through the air. Nearly grazing Roosevelt's cheek, he followed the

path of the blade as it sunk deep into the chest of one final wolf.

Roosevelt watched as the creature whimpered and expired, then looked around. The

few men that had followed them were still standing, a few wolves at their feet. He scanned the

forest. Nothing. He turned back to the camp. Clear. Smiling, the former president began to roar

with laughter.

"Not the reaction I expected," Sonia remarked as she limped over to recover her blade.

"Bully!" he shouted, clapping her on the back.

She winced in pain, straightening up. Nodding, she turned. "Okay. That seems more like

it."

A cautious, but growing roar went up from the men as Sonia and Roosevelt limped back

toward the camp. Trucks were pulled up to the tents and several injured were already loaded. A

bloody but joyous Jesse rushed to meet the pair. "I think that's all of them, sir!"

"It better well be!" Sonia spat, holding her side in pain.

"This went better than I expected," Roosevelt laughed.

"Better?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Oh yes. So many of the vile creatures gone in just one night. This is fantastic! Jesse,

put in orders for more of that Wolfs Bait. We'll need hundreds of drums."

"Yes sir!" the young man replied.

"You're insane," Sonia repeated.

 "We're going to need it for the next mission. And the one after that! Why, I suspect we

can rid the nation of these beasts with no more than a dozen, no... a score of these missions. I

trust I'll have you at my side, Mrs. Trevor?"

As the fired blazed around them and men groaned in pain, Sonia shook her head.

Letting her head fall back for a moment, she turned and walked toward the nearest truck.

"Mrs. Trevor? Where are you going?"

"I'm done here, Mr. Roosevelt. I have things worth living for."

Chapter 6

Bloody wraps fell into the steel wash bowl, crimson clouds billowing into the water as they

settled. Sonia winced as her servant, Grant, laid fresh gauze across her back and began the

slow, tender process of re-wrapping her wound. "I trust it was worth it, Madam?" he asked with

slight grin.

"If you ask that again, Grant, I will show you exactly what I did to those foul creatures."

Grant nodded and smiled, finishing up before handing his mistress a dark blouse. She

stood gingerly, taking her time to pull the garment over her scarred and bruised body. As she

dressed, Grant moved to the doorway. "I believe Master Richter should be done with his supper

by now. I will escort him to bed."

"No, Grant... I'll do it."

 ****

"Are you really staying home now, Mother?"

Sonia smiled as she caressed her child's cheek and moved a long strand of hair over his

ear. "Yes, my child," she replied, seated at his bedside. "I don't think your mother will be going

anywhere for sometime." She paused to shift her posture, the pain of her wounds stinging.

"Even if she wanted."

"I'm glad, Mother," he replied, laying back into his pillow, eyes closing. "It's been so

scary since Father..."

The boy paused, unable to finish his thought. Sonia shook her head and leaned in,

bearing the pain to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. "You have nothing to fear, my little

Richter. No monster can ever touch you while your Mother is here."

"Is that true? What about the really scary ones?" he asked.

Sonia merely smiled. "Richter, I am far scarier than any of them. Now, sleep well."

Sonia limped down the stairs and into her study, making her way to her plush, red chair.

She settled in with a sigh as her servant approached. In his hands he held a small package,

rectangular in shape. "This came for you today, Madam."

"Thank you, Grant," she replied, taking the package and opening it. As she expected,

inside was a leather book, though to her surprise, it seemed to be old and worn. She ran her

thumb over the pages and the smell of age wafted into the air. She grinned as she turned the

book over to the cover. In faint ink, smudged by time, were written the words " The Observations

of RJ Thompson on the Magus Device." She leaned back in the chair and opened it, scanning

over the first page. Intriguing as it was, something wasn't right. She paused.

"Grant?"

"Yes, Madam?"

"Could you please turn on some music?"

"Of course, Madam."