Evelyn

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that they do not become monsters in the process. At least, that's what my mother used to say before she was murdered by one.

The thought consumed me as Pops led me to the small townhouse of the latest victim in a series of animal attacks targeting teenage boys.

"Henry Gilbert," my brother said, briefing me before we reached the door, "five-foot-nine, one hundred and eighty-five pounds. On his way home from football practice, he was attacked by some sort of animal."

I listened intently, my heart beating a thousand miles per hour. We'd arrived only an hour ago in this desolate town called Windfall. Pops and Roary rarely allowed me to go on new hunts without them investigating first, and it was only because I could enter the home as a doctor and not as a Huntress that they allowed me to do so now. "What kind of animal?"

"We're not sure. That's where you come in."

I smiled. My mother's greatest wish was to keep me as far away from the family business as possible. Pops was determined to uphold that promise to her and had sent me off to medical school, but the stronger I became and the more my abilities developed, he could no longer deny me my birthright. I was giddy with anticipation of going in first tonight. I was their only shot at determining what this creature, or monster, was. They had to depend on me for once, and I reveled the sensation.

I hesitated outside Henry Gilbert's door, not about to knock till they were far from sight. "You have your weapons?" Pops asked, turning away from the home to face me.

I patted the pocket of my white coat just above the stethoscope draped over my neck. Then I lifted my medical bag. "Of course."

He seemed reluctant, but after a moment, he conceded. "If anything happens–"

"I know," I breathed, annoyed already. I wasn't some damsel in distress that needed to be taken care of, and he, of all people, should know that. He was the one who trained me, after all.

He frowned. "We won't be far."

I waited till they were across the street and draped in shadows before turning toward the stairs that led to the door.

I heard the boys' anguished screams coming from inside. My heart skipped a beat, imagining what the poor thing must be going through. I gathered my fleeting courage and knocked, waiting for only a moment before an exhausted-looking woman with dark circles under his eyes opened the door.

I plastered on a winning smile. "Good evening. My name is Evelyn. I'm the doctor that was called in to help."

The woman opened her mouth to say something, but the boy's screams cut her off. With a nod, she opened the door wider and motioned me inside.

"No one will help him," she said as she led me through the house and up the stairs. "The doctors at the hospital will not even allow us inside." I caught the way the tears flowed down her face as she turned just before the room on the left.

"I'll do everything I can," I assured her. She started to grab the handle when I said, "I've got it from here. Please, it would be best if you stayed downstairs."

I waited until she was gone before turning to the door. Unholy snarling sounds coming from the other side made my heart sink into the pit of my stomach.

I was walking into this blind; even as a Del Val, I did not know what to expect. All we knew was something was targeting and kidnapping young boys, and somehow Henry had managed to escape. I took a deep breath, turned the knob, and slowly pushed the door open.

"Henry? I'm Doctor Evelyn. Can I come in?"

I did not get a response. I glanced toward the bed, but there was no one there. I heard labored breathing coming from the floor on the opposite side of the bed. My shoulders stiffened as I quickly shut the door, trapping myself inside with the boy. With the door closed, the room was engulfed in darkness.

"I'm going to open this blind to see you better."

I backed my way toward the window as carefully as possible. No quick movements. That's what Pops always said. And I refused to turn my back on him. I reached for the blind and pulled it open. Light flooded the room, and I heard a very unnatural growl from the boy.

I eased my way toward him, my heart dropping when I saw him. His arms and legs bent unnaturally, and his fingers and toes were elongated, becoming claws.

"Oh no," I breathed. It couldn't be.

My heart leaped in my chest. The sound of bones cracking filled my ears as his legs bent and snapped.

The scream that escaped Henry was gut-retching. I felt hot tears prick my eyes as I desperately threw open my medical bag. I knew I could not stop the transformation, but I could ease his pain.

My hands shook as I pulled morphine into a syringe. I had heard numerous tales from Pops about what the bite did to the human body. There was no mistaking what I saw; Henry was turning into a werewolf.

I approached him slowly, grabbed his thigh, and jabbed him with the needle. He swiped his claws at me, but I moved out of his reach.

He hissed and howled until the drug started taking effect. His pain-filled, glassy eyes became somewhat clearer as the pain subsided.

"What's happening to me?" he croaked in a raspy voice.

I knelt beside him and grabbed his deformed hand.

"Shhh... everything will be ok. I need you to take a few deep breaths and tell me exactly what happened when you were attacked," I cooed.

Everything was not going to be ok. I could do nothing for him other than ease some of the pain and find out who had done this to him.

"A wolf monster. He...he came into my room and tried to force me to go with him, but I fought him. We made so much noise that it woke my mother and father..."

Henry gritted his teeth as one of his arms snapped.

"Take your time." I brushed a cloth against his sweaty brow.

"It got spooked, but before it left, it bit me and said you will be one of us."

My mind jumbled with confusion. Werewolves couldn't talk. Once the beast took over their bodies, they lacked any sort of intellect. They were more of a monster than a man. And Lycans couldn't speak in wolf form.

"Tell me, Henry, the wolf that bit you, was it a very large wolf, or did it look like a wolf humanoid?"

"Wolf humanoid," he sputtered as his body began to convulse.

This didn't make any sense. A werewolf couldn't turn a human into another werewolf. Only the bite from a lycan could turn a human into a werewolf. What the hell was happening in this town?

Blood began to drip from Henry's nose and mouth. Tears streamed down my face as I pulled another needle from my bag. There was only one thing for me to do at this point.

I pulled a vial from my bag, swirled the silver liquid around, and filled the syringe. I swallowed the bile that burned the back of my throat as I injected it into his thigh.

I hurried behind him, pulled his back to my chest, and placed my cheek on his head as I held him tightly. He was strong with the werewolf mutation flowing through his veins, but I was stronger, given my abilities as a huntress.

He screamed and jolted violently as the silver-laced poison entered and flowed through his veins. I began singing to him as he breathed his last breaths. A lullaby that my mother used to sing to me. My voice calmed him, and he leaned into my chest.

He was gone long before I finished the lullaby, but I finished it anyway. He needed something sweet and loving to carry him into death, not the wickedness that had put him here in the first place.

I eased his limp body off mine and placed him gently on the floor. I pulled the comforter from his bed and pulled it over his head. Just as I approached the door, it opened, and the sheriff and the boy's parents walked in. They were probably astounded that the boy's wailing had subsided. They both looked me in the eyes, and my insides shredded at how hopeful they were. I shook my head and walked out of the room.

I heard the cries of anguish from the mother as I walked out the front door. My father and brother looked at the state I was in and rushed to my side.

"What happened, love?" Pops gripped my elbow and made me turn to face him.

"A lycan. The boy was bitten by a lycan. He started to turn..." My voice broke as I recalled cradling the innocent boy in my arms as he took his last breath. Unwanted visions of my own mother's death surfaced before I could shove them back into the darkness from which they came.

"Did you take care of it?" my brother asked.

My throat tightened. He knew just as I did that, even if a werewolf only lived a week or two after a bite, the amount of carnage that they left in their wake during that short reign was substantial. They could wipe out an entire town in that timeframe and needed to be put down before that happened by people who could. People like us.

"I took care of it."

I pulled away from Pop's touch, shoved my medical bag in the storage compartment of my motorcycle, and fired up the engine.

In medical school, I swore to do no harm when I recited the Hippocratic oath, but as a Huntress, I'd done the opposite. I was forced to kill an innocent boy because a lycan broke the code and bit him. So the question remained: was I the monster or he?

"Where are you going?" my brother shouted over the roar of my engine.

"To kill that son of a bitch."