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It made so much sense that it was ridiculous. “I can’t hunt,

though. I’m not alive.”

“You could try. There are spirits in the world who can cause  change among the objects and creatures around them. That’s how  hauntings occur. Just practice. With the smaller animals, you will  have a better chance for success since animals are more in tune with

the spirit world than people are.”

To go hunting and running again…that sounded nice. That was  exactly what Eric needed.

Opal stood up and pointed her hand toward the denser area of the  forest. “Go now. Do not come back until you manage to catch a  rabbit.”

If Eric was able to catch anything, he wanted it to be a buck, or maybe he could sneak up on a mountain lion and scare it. That was something he’d never been able to do.

He took two steps forward, stopped, and then turned back toward the pack.

“Ivan will be fine. I will see to his lessons while you are away.”

Ivan needed the space from him. So long as Eric wasn’t around then Ivan wouldn’t need to be fearful or distracted.

Eric allowed the transformation of his wolf to wash over him.

That same tingling feeling of the change was there, only in death, as opposed to life, the change was instant.

Out of habit rather than any dust in his coat, he shook himself off, still not entirely feeling the rush of air through the hairs of his coat, but there was a little something there, and that was enough to make him excited for the run.

Eric took off, digging his claws into the earth as he ran, launching

himself faster and faster into the forest.

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* * * *

Opal watched the spirit run off. He would be back, but after she told him of the possibility to touch things and hunt with practice, she doubted that would be for another little while.

She’d almost been shocked to learn that her spell had worked. The spirit had actually taken possession of Ivan’s body.

She’d performed the spell as a last resort, not truly expecting it to work. The spirit and medium had to be close for such a thing to be forced on both parties. Physically and spiritually.

Perhaps they were being intimate when it happened.

Opal’s face heated at the thought of such a gorgeous specimen like Eric touching another man. Ivan especially. She wondered if, had  Eric been alive, he would allow Ivan to sink his fangs into his neck and lick away the blood with his tongue. Though the fantasy did have its erotic appeal, she had better things to attend to.

She checked her watch. Little past five in the afternoon. She would give Ivan another shot before giving up and just waiting for nightfall. Now that Eric was away, she really hoped he would answer his door this time.

Success. On her knock, a small voice called for her to wait, and

she did wait two minutes before opening the door and letting herself

inside the small cabin.

Vampires generally required living spaces with two doors to keep out all sunlight. A werewolf pack would hardly be so accommodating, and until a mud room could be built, both Ivan and his brother would

have to take the most careful of precautions when inviting others into

their houses during the daylight hours.

Ivan looked like shit.

She smiled warmly at him, and he weakly returned it.

“Did you have a bad night?” she asked.

“Yeah, but…” Ivan wet his lips, exposing for the smallest of

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seconds those beautiful fangs of his. She wanted them inside of her.

“Have you seen Eric?”

She blinked, and the tingling pressure between her legs ceased.

“Eric?”

It was always best to speak as much of the truth about these things as possible. That always made things much easier to remember in the long run. “Yes, he’s just gone off for a hunt in the woods.”

Ivan stared at her. “He did?”

“Yes. He seemed much eager to be gone. Are you sure you’re  feeling all right?”

Ivan looked away from her for a second. “I was just hoping he’d  be around. He usually is.”

“Remember that he cannot be nearby as often as you’re used to.  Otherwise, how will you practice your new skills?”

Ivan nodded. “So, what are we going to do today?”

It was dark in here because of the way all the windows were  boarded up, but that made the setting all the more perfect. Opal pulled  long white candles from her beaded purse. She placed them onto the  table and lit them with the matches she kept on hand.

She sat down in one of the chairs and held out her hands for him.

He came to her easily, and Opal performed her tests. It was time

to see if Ivan would be worthy enough for the Gods.

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Chapter Seven

Ivan continued his lessons with Opal for the next three days, and each time he grew more and more frustrated.

He didn’t understand how any of this meditation hand-holding had anything to do with keeping the spirits who attacked him at bay.

The lessons he took with Isaac and Jason with their weapons were interesting, but again, how was learning how to operate a pump-action shotgun supposed to aid him with violent spirits?

“Be patient. Improving your mind and spirit are all part of the overall lesson,”
 
Opal would tell him when he asked questions.

Perhaps he was simply being so rash and angry because he missed  Eric, and he could barely have gone and visited his brother without the other werewolves nearby, most of who still looked at him strangely.

Then there was Eric’s brother, Eli. The man was impossible to be put off, and Ivan was having a difficult time of constantly explaining to him that he had no word from his brother. Not since the day Eric had apparently run away into the forest.

Just looking at Eli was painful. The brothers were too much alike.  Only Eli was alive, and Eric was dead, and he would stay that way.

Perhaps this was the true reason he’d come out here, into the forest, where all the bad creatures lived, by himself.

Ivan rubbed his arms. The cold didn’t usually bother him, but this was not the comforting cold he experienced whenever Eric was nearby. This was natural and hollow.

“Eric,” he called, letting his voice move across the black sky and tall trees. They shifted and swayed in the wind. No one answered him

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back.

“
Eric
,” he called again, making his voice louder this time.

Three days. He’d gone three days without any word from the  other man. Not so much as a nightly visit or good-bye. It made him  worry, in the sort of heart-pumping way he didn’t like, could Eric had  left him for good?

No, he told himself. Eric wanted to move onto the next life, but he

would always return and say good-bye. He would.

Ivan would not leave here, regardless of any danger, until he

found Eric or Eric found him. He needed to see the other man. Three

days was too much, and it had long since become apparent that Eric  kept his distance only because of the way Ivan had reacted.

He would have to still be on the property. Eric had told him that,  aside from those times when he’d been pulled to Ivan’s side, Eric had  never had the power to leave the pack land.

So if Ivan just continued to search—

A rattle in the trees startled him. Ivan turned just as the gray-white  body of a young boy past through the trees.

Ivan was frozen in place. The spirits were back. Without Eric’s  protection they had come for him finally.

And he was out here in the middle of nowhere, by himself. What  an idiot he was.

Perhaps not. The boy hadn’t seemed to notice him, and though  Ivan had not done very well when it came to pretending to not see them, the little ghost had yet to return.

He sighed his relief, but then it became apparent that he’d celebrated much too soon. The white face of the child returned, the

black eyes angry and dark mouth opened in a long gasp.

Pretend you cannot see him. Pretend you cannot see him.

Ivan turned about and began walking in the other direction, the  direction he hoped he would find Eric in.

These ghosts were always somehow different from Eric, though.  Whenever Eric walked around or touched things, they wouldn’t react

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unless he was also in contact with Ivan.

But as the boy ghost followed Ivan, his bare blue feet crunched loudly into the dry leaves and twigs. He was getting closer.

Ivan swallowed hard over the lump in his throat. It didn’t go down well with the other rocks in his gut. He couldn’t stop his arms from shaking. The boy was so close now that he could hear him breathing, a raspy, angry sound.

Ivan couldn’t do it. The boy knew that Ivan was aware of him, and there was no making him forget it. Ivan ran.

The boy behind him shrieked and gave chase. His screams sounded like a squawking, high-pitched crow. It hurt Ivan’s ears.

The spirit had difficulty keeping up with Ivan’s pace. Now that he was free to run, allowing his vampire speed to take over, the ghost could barely match his pace.

It must be a new ghost for that to be possible.

Eventually the sound of the running footsteps and bird-like screams fell far behind him, yet Ivan did not yet stop. He couldn’t, not until his chest and lungs burned from the exertion, and not until his feet begged him to stop.

He slowed his pace to a halt and then promptly fell onto his hands and knees. With the wheezing sound coming out of his throat, he felt as though he could be the ghost here, and not that boy that had been chasing him.

Ivan shivered. He hated seeing spirits, especially ones so dark and mindless of all things except for the urge to attack and possess. After being with Eric for so long, he’d forgotten what it was to be surrounded by these spirits on a constant basis.

He needed to find him and bring him back. Ivan couldn’t handle the separation any longer.

He kept walking, not entirely certain where he was, which was another reason to be fearful, but he’d walked for no more than five

minutes before he realized that he was coming upon the end of

DeWitt’s pack territory.

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Eric could not go any farther than this. He’d told Ivan that before.  For whatever reason, Ivan was the only one able to give Eric the ability to travel farther, and only if they were together.

That had been how Eric had come to see him all those times when

Ivan was still living with his family, kept carefully hidden away in his bedchamber.

He nearly turned back when another noise startled him.

Like an animal that scented a predator, Ivan froze. Another spirit, or the same boy that had chased him?

He held perfectly still for several minutes, hardly daring to breathe, his eyes darting around for whatever might be attempting to sneak up on him.

A long whoosh of air breezed by, shifting the leaves in the trees and moaning theatrically as it went, but nothing appeared before him.  No face materialized from between the branches, no painful howls sounded from the spirits who were jealous of Ivan’s life.

Really, there was nothing to be jealous about. He was a vampire!  Wasn’t he part of the undead anyway?

Then Ivan scented warm blood beneath soft skin, and he heard the

rapid thumping of a small, frightened heart.

His fangs lengthened almost of their own accord. Yes, this was  another thing he’d wanted to come out here for. Ivan wanted to drink,  and that rabbit smelled like a rather large one.

The extra energy would be useful for when he had to flee from  more ghosts, and it might also keep him on his feet long enough to  find Eric.

The poor little beast was no match for Ivan’s speed, and he caught the animal around the belly before lifting the soft fur to his face.

It was a sign of how pathetic Ivan was that he winced when he bit into the animal to drink. The cry it released unnerved him. It was hardly a wonder that Vlad treated him like a child when he always felt sorry from the beasts he drank from.

With it being either the rabbit or him, Ivan chose himself, and he

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finished off his meal quickly before gently depositing the little body  back onto the earth for other predators to come for later.

No use in throwing the rabbit away somewhere and letting it go to  waste. That would be an even larger shame.