Chapter three

So I'm not a vampire after all. Derek kept his word. But I'm not human anymore. I'm a werewolf, apparently, but I'm not sure I believe it.

A werewolf, indeed.

The day began routinely enough. Dr. Scott came over and informed me that I'd done such a good job with my Jell-O and applesauce supper that he was promoting me to solid meals. And what about my broken arm? It's almost healed. He believes the cast will be removed tomorrow. He said I'd be allowed to shower later today since my knee was as good as new. I asked him how long I'd been in the hospital, and he skirted the topic once again. It enraged me to the point where I let out a serious-sounding roar. That was a little frightening.

He removed the bandage from my neck. Dr. Scott hesitated when I asked for a mirror to see it.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Elizabeth. Right now, your neck looks awful. That man ripped you to shreds. You have many stitches that will fall out in a day or two. Just trust me when I say that the scar will disappear and you won't be able to tell anything occurred. Just allow it some more time to heal before looking at it. The shower will help remove the iodine, making it appear a bit better. Just be cautious, please. It will mend more slowly than the rest of you."

He went after promising me something more substantial than Jell-O for dinner, and I strained to keep my eyes open. I was concerned about how much I was sleeping, but Dr. Scott told me that it was entirely normal.

"You're healing. Your body is burning all kinds of energy to make that happen. Resting is the best way to make the healing go faster. Don't worry about sleeping so much, you're fine."

Lying bastard.

"Fine" apparently includes growing fur and a tail. But Dr. Scott didn't mention that little detail. No, I learned that when I talked with Derek later that afternoon. After Dr. Scott left, I fell asleep while waiting for lunch to show up.

Derek Michael was sitting next to my bed, watching me sleep when I awoke from my nap. It felt strange waking up and seeing him looking at me. His look seemed strange. It took me a while to figure out what it was. Tenderness and irritation. I had no idea why.

"I had no idea you were coming back today. I didn't intend to sleep and keep you waiting."

"I've just been here a short time. Don't be concerned."

"Is it just you today, or will David be here as well?"

He gave a rueful smile "No, it's just me. David had to return home. With your office burning down a week ago, he's got a lot on his plate right now."

My workplace caught fire a week ago. What? Why?

My system went into panic mode as a result of the shock, and my hands began to tremble. He leaned over and gently patted my arm "I apologize. I should not have said something to you. I haven't had much sleep recently, and I'm having trouble thinking straight."

I wanted to ask him all kinds of questions about the fire, but I was scared I wouldn't like the answers. As the shock faded into numbness, I concentrated on his last words, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

He pushed his hand through his tangled hair and took a step back. He started to pace about my room, his hands in the pockets of his well-worn jeans.

"I haven't been able to sleep because I've been worried about you. I have a lot to tell you, and I'm probably going to botch it up. Just try to stay with me, please."

I nodded, trying to ignore the slight curl of panic in my stomach.

"Do you recall being in the basement? You overheard us discussing after David staked the bastard who attacked you. Even though you were dying in my arms, you summoned the courage to open your eyes and urge me to stake you as well, rather than allowing yourself to become like him."

Yes, I did recall. He'd brushed my hair away from my eyes and pledged not to turn me into a vampire. My throat was clamped tight with fear, so I nodded at him.

"Do you remember when I slashed my wrist and forced you to swallow my blood? So I took some of yours?"

I nodded once more. I recalled.

"Can you recall what occurred next?"

I did. I wasn't sure I could say anything. My voice broke as I tried. Derek gave me a glass of cold water, and after a few swallows, I felt ready to speak.

"A wolf. In the basement, there was a wolf. I passed out when he bit me on the shoulder. After that, I don't recall anything."

He nodded and said, "There was, indeed, a wolf in the basement. He attacked you to assist me in saving your life. My blood was insufficient. You have to get bitten by the wolf as well. We were scared you'd die regardless since you were so far gone."

I was still perplexed. What was the point of being bitten by a wolf? Surprisingly, my shoulder didn't ache at all. Shouldn't it also be healing?

"Why? I'm not sure I understand. Why did being attack by a wolf save my life?"

He sighed, his face filled with both grief and regret. "Elizabeth, you did not get bitten by a wolf. You were bit by a werewolf. David is the one who bit you on the shoulder. I provided a connection to enable you to remain on this planet by swapping our blood. But, to combat the vampire and keep you alive, David transformed into a wolf and bit you. He bit you a lot, but you were unconscious at the time."

David was a werewolf?

I was utterly paralyzed. Well, a vampire attacked me. If I believed that, getting bitten by a werewolf wouldn't be that different. Was it? But it still surprised me. I assumed vampires and werewolves were simply folklore. Horror tales are told over a campfire to frighten children. People are entertained by movies and literature. Such nonsense does not exist in reality.

Yet, here I was, clearly in a hospital, while someone attempted to persuade me that a vampire was trying to murder me. I would never have thought this if I hadn't seen the fangs and felt them slice into my neck. I had also seen the wolf. I concentrated hard on what I had seen and attempted to recall that section.

Was David still standing there, or had he left? Gone. David, no. It was only Derek and the wolf. Wait for a second...

"I had a dream," I said quietly. "I had a dream that I was growling at you on my hands and knees in this bed. You advised me to relax and that everything will be OK. You instructed me to sleep. I cuddled up on the bed... but I was carrying a tail. As I went asleep, it thumped on the bed."

Derek gave me a nod "You did, indeed. Elizabeth, you didn't have a dream. You weren't down on your knees. You were balanced on all fours. That occurred."

And then he stated what I had been dreading all along.

"David and I converted you into a werewolf to preserve your life and save you from becoming a vampire."

What do you say to that? Thank you.

I simply sat there in bed, trying to figure out what this meant. Everything seemed to be frozen. I was anticipating what would happen next. I'm not sure how long I sat there in complete stillness, but I couldn't get my brain around it.

Was it a werewolf? What precisely did it mean? Then something clicked in my head.

"You are a werewolf, too, aren't you?"

Derek agreed with a hesitant nod.

I remembered everything I'd ever read about werewolves. Evil murderers, compelled to transform at the full moon. Had he prevented me from becoming one monster by reincarnating me as another?

"So, what does all of this mean? Will I turn into a wolf every night? Will I start attacking people?"

"No, you will not transform into a wolf every night. Only with the full moon will you be compelled to transform. You can control it at any moment. And, no, you're not going to attack individuals any more than you already have. You're still essentially the same person you were before. However, there are distinctions."

"Such as?”

He stood up and began to pace. "We are resistant to sickness and illness. We heal rapidly. Your body temperature will rise somewhat, and your metabolism will accelerate significantly."

"What do you mean we recover so quickly? That makes no sense. So, why am I still in this bed? And how long have I been here? Dr. Scott always avoids answering that question."

Derek came to a halt and glanced at me. "You've been here for a week now. It was close for a time. A werewolf's injuries like yours would normally heal in a day or two. However, you were assaulted by a vampire, which complicated matters. Consider this: when you have the flu, it takes a bit for the treatment to kick in and help you recover, right? The vampire drank enough of your blood that when you died, you would have resurrected as a vampire.

"We had no choice except to convert you into a werewolf and hope that this would prevent you from becoming a vampire. But it took some time for the wolf's power to defeat his onslaught. I doubt our effort to transform you would have succeeded if I hadn't compelled you to swap blood with me. When we brought you here, I contributed a couple of pints of blood to replace what you'd lost, which let the wolf settle in.

"If you had been in a car accident or any other normal accident, you'd have been out of that bed a few days ago. Now that the wolf is settled in, and you've had your first change, your body is beginning to catch up and heal quickly."

"So I can go home soon? I mean, yeah, once a month, I grow fur and fangs. That's not such a big deal, right? Turning into a vicious beast once a month isn't anything new for any female over the age of twelve. I can handle that. But otherwise, I go back to normal, right? Did David tell my boss I'm sick or something? I kind of need that job."

There was undeniable sorrow on Derek's face, "Elizabeth, you can't ever go back. As far as the world is concerned, you died that night."

Did I die? Why would they think that? "What? Why? I don't understand! I'm not dead!"

"No, you're not dead. But everyone you ever knew before has to think so."

"Why? Just because I'm a werewolf? That's bullshit." I had to go home. I wasn't dead. I couldn't stay here. There was no reason for everyone to think I was dead.

Derek sighed and went to the small bathroom in the corner of my room. When he came back, he carried a large hand mirror.

"You can't go back, Elizabeth. How would you explain this?"

I gasped in surprise as he held up the mirror to show me my image. That cannot be me! It just cannot be!

I was a forty-three-year-old lady with dark brown hair that was gradually becoming gray the last time I glanced in the mirror. I had shadows under my eyes and laugh lines in the corners of my eyes. I was quite overweight and seemed my age. I was attractive enough, but fading and content with it.

Doctor Scott was correct. My neck was in a bad way. Two ragged rows of spider-like black stitches ran down my neck. Smaller wounds were mending on their own here and there. But it wasn't that that made me gasp.

The lady in the mirror was no more than twenty-four years old, and she was much more than merely attractive. Her hair had a stunning white color. Not blonde; pure, snow white with silver flecks here and there. She was skinny, with barely an ounce of fat on her. And what about her face? There isn't a single wrinkle. It couldn't be me; even the childhood scar on my forehead had vanished.

It felt as if I were staring at the face of a stranger. The face seemed slightly familiar, but the only thing I recognized was my own eyes. They were still the same golden hazel that my father had given me. I reached up, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and yanked it around so I could look at it directly. Yes, white as the mirror. But much, much longer. I used to have long hair, but I got it chopped short a few weeks ago. This white hair was the exact length I'd worn for most of my adult life.

I pushed my good hand under my sheets to feel my body, and it wasn't the same. I could feel my ribs and hip bones, and my butt was no longer bootylicious in size. I stroked over my breasts and, surprised, pulled my robe out to inspect them. They were approximately the same size as before, but now they were firm and perky, sitting high on my chest without any help. They'd never appeared like that before. What in the world was going on?

When I glanced up, Derek was attempting to suppress an amused smile, asking, "How is this possible?"

"Elizabeth, immunity to sickness and fast mending are only a few of the wolf's characteristics. There are others, but the most important one for you is that werewolves are somewhat immortal. Most individuals who decide to modify their appearance do so in their mid-twenties and remain that age for the rest of their life. Being a werewolf brought about some significant changes in your life because you were older. You could probably tell folks you bleached your hair, but there's no hiding the fact that you've shed a significant amount of weight and seem twenty years younger almost overnight."

"We knew if you survived, you'd alter so drastically that it couldn't be disguised or explained. There was also the vampire. I crushed his neck and staked him, but the only way to ensure that a vampire never rises again is to burn his corpse to ashes. So we called for help, and when it came, we rigged the building to explode from a natural gas leak and set it off. It eliminated the vampire forever and allowed us to restart you someplace else. David said he saw you in the building immediately before it blew up. Your automobile was still parked in the lot. Elizabeth Summers was murdered in a tragic accident that night, according to everyone."

A single individual can only take on so much. I'd reached my limit and then some. I didn't want to hear anything else.

"I'm sorry, Derek, but you have to go right now."

He placed the mirror on the nightstand next to my bed. "Elizabeth, there's so much more we need to speak about, so much you need to know."

My head trembled. I could feel tears welling up in the back of my throat, but I wouldn't allow him to see me weep.

"No. Today is the last day. The remainder can be done tomorrow. Please just go." I rolled onto my side, drew the covers over my head, and tried to keep it together for a few more minutes.

When I heard the door silently shut behind him, the torrent I'd been holding back burst out.