My Bad Boy Werewolf Quadrillionaire Space Lord

A Pirate Takes Charge

"Oh my god, those two idiots are going to die," I said aloud, just as werewolfy Luca tumbled back down the ravine.

The werewolf has picked up a fallen tree, a fallen fucking tree, and smacked the vampire out of the air like Alcuard was an oversized tennis ball.

And no, my concern for vampy didn't prevent me from recording it in high fidelity. I was totally watching that in slow motion later. Because as soon as I figure out a way to thwart their inevitable doom and keep Luca from eating them both, that clip is going to be hilarious.

"They'll be fine," Anna said over the radio. "Asides from your undead friend letting himself get used as a badminton birdie, which was hilarious by the way, things are actually going well."

Anna sounded pretty confident, enough that I did stop wondering if I should switch the safety off, I definitely wasn't reassured. But I turned the ship and shone the searchlight down the ravine to find Luca.

It didn't take long to find him, the rippling water in the previously idle stream was a clue so obvious a child could have followed it. A few seconds of flying and I found wolfified Luca as he charged back down the ravine to the beach. He was running just as fast as before, despite having spent the last hour being knocked around.

Honestly, stamina is an under-appreciated virtue.

"He's reached the ravine," I said. "And he's heading up the other side. ETA, four minutes."

"Hear that, Lito? Four minutes. Now put the book away," Anna said over the radio.

"What? I still have four minutes," Lito responded over the radio. "And I just got my hands on a copy of A Dream of Spring they dug out of the author's mausoleum. The one that HBO paid for way back in the day."

"Oh my god! You have a copy!" I exclaimed. "I heard the author got sick of all the 'he's going to die before he finishes' jokes, and he had himself interred with the only physical copy of the last book. Said in his will that people could take it only after everyone alive at the time he was buried had died."

"Well, that centuries-old reader on life-support just died, so the book was released a few days ago, and we can actually get an ending," Lito said. "Authors are not your bitch, and never, ever underestimate a spiteful writer's imagination."

"You think a writer could have imagined a werewolf using a log like a baseball bat to hit a vampire out of the air?" I asked.

Of course, thinking of BIRD, I imagine that was exactly the question it was trying to answer.

"Should Alcuard be tapping out for this round?" I asked. "Or the rest of the night? Between being hit by a tree and then being used as a chew toy, it's a wonder he's still standing."

"He says he's fine," Lito said with appalling indifference. I swear he was wearing Luca's smirk and shrugging when he spoke. "Vampy's durability is definitely superhuman. Also, he tastes so bad a rampaging werewolf can't bring himself to bite down."

"But!" I began to object, but Lito cut me off.

"Relax, kid. I'll take point. Just keep that searchlight at my back, and in his eyes. The next few hours should pass pretty quickly," Lito said, and I'll admit that I found his cocky indifference relaxing. He had, after all, just survived having a werewolf try to kill him, and apparently does this every full moon.

Frankly, it wasn't him I was worried about. But I didn't have time to voice my objections, as Luca charged towards where Lito and Alcuard were.

True to his word, Lito charged to intercept the werewolf. His staff was in his left hand, and in his right was a long, cylindrical piece of metal that looked exactly like a shotgun.