Lycan Blood (Alex Vane: Demon Stalker #1)

Research

I didn’t go out hunting that night. There seemed little point-I knew the werewolf wouldn’t show, not now they knew I was on their trail. Even a rookie would know to leave it a few days. Hopefully that meant I would be safe at my sleepover, although I would have still have preferred to go out to make sure.

I spent most of Friday morning in bed, sadly having nothing better to do now I was banished from school. My apartment is not the happiest of places. Even before my Granddad died here, it was never really cheery. Now it’s just a complete tip. I have the minimal amount of furniture, just a bed, a couch and a table. There’s an old TV but it hasn’t worked since the switch over to digital TV, and I haven’t cared enough to sort it out. Then I have basic kitchen appliances, a microwave, an oven, a fridge/freezer. Most of the time I rely on microwaved food or restrict my meals to basic pasta. It’s important I eat right to stay strong, but admittedly half the time it doesn’t quite work out like that.

Around lunchtime I finally dragged myself out of bed with a sigh, the dark blue walls doing nothing to improve my mood. The one completely clean room is the bathroom and that’s just because I can’t stand to leave any traces of blood or ectoplasm there. Everything else is just covered in old rubbish, stuff I didn’t have the time or effort to throw away. Ever since Granddad died it didn’t seem important to keep things tidy. It’s not like anyone ever came here except me anyway.

Knowing I couldn’t spend all day here without turning suicidal, I got dressed into the cleanest clothes I had and decided to go for a little walk around town. It was pretty good weather for once, the sun shining down and the faint breeze humid. I’d almost forgotten how places looked in the daylight. I felt strangely at peace, just wandering round soaking up the sunshine. It was almost normal.

Of course, as one of the only Demon Stalkers in existence, I’m never allowed to experience normal for very long. It was with a heavy heart that I started to head for my real destination, the local library. Another thing Granddad had always preached was the importance of doing research. It was admittedly the easiest part to skim over-after all, who wanted to spend hours poring over ancient and out-dated books? However, in this case I was willing to make an exception. My knowledge of werewolves was skimpy at best, and while a lot of what I read would be utter nonsense, there might be some useful kernels of truth among the myths. The trouble would be deciding which was fiction and which was fact.

I am rather fond of how our library looks, even if it is a place I don’t really have time to visit for pleasure reasons. Like most of the buildings in our town it’s pretty old, several floors high and made out of this lovely old white marble. It’s more of a faded yellow colour now but it doesn’t diminish its beauty. I’m not sure if the age of our town is one of the reasons demons choose to congregate here or whether that’s just coincidence, but this place has been here a long time. I used to love learning about the history of the town. Now I find the number of mysterious deaths just depresses me.

The second I walked in I was confronted by the musty smell of old books and stagnant air. It was oddly comforting, the scent of the ancient. Automatically I headed for the stairs, going to the third shelf on the second floor. It was the only place I ever went in the library-the Mythology section. I grabbed a couple of promising books before making my way over to a table, getting out the paper I’d brought to make notes.

It was a long process. As predicted, most of the stuff (while interesting) was complete fantasy. From my previous knowledge I knew that werewolves are demons possessing human forms, although it’s more of a symbiotic relationship than a full-on possession. In this case, the demon works with the human rather than controlling them or wiping them out completely. I knew they were human most of the time, only turning into actual wolf-like beings on a full moon. I knew they had to eat blood and meat, preferably human but animal would suffice if necessary. I also knew that they were very clever, or at least experienced ones were. Once a werewolf has taken a human body they must stay in it for fifty years, after which they can cast themselves out of it and possess a new one. A really skilled werewolf could be hundreds of years old.