Devil You Know

No Choice.

As she turned, Elsa’s nostrils curled. A pungent and unmistakable smell assaulted her senses. She’d gotten used to the scent of Gray and Logan and didn’t find them offensive at all anymore but every time she met a new werewolf the initial smell of them could be quite repulsive. This one was something else though, she could taste it the smell was that strong, she could see the aroma in the air, it felt thick and unctuous, like she would have to scrape it’s very existence out of her nose to get rid of it.

Something clicked in her brain then; she shouldn’t be able to smell a werewolf, not out here and not tonight.

“Full moon’s coming up.”

That’s what Logan had said a few days ago. Werewolves as a species that Haven dealt with, were very much under control. They were their human selves more often than not and found it relatively easy to hold onto their humanity. As such, any werewolves that Elsa knew of kept themselves very firmly under lock and key around a full moon. Haven monitored the population carefully, there were no rogue packs they were aware of and in order to create a new werewolf, a person had to be bitten or scratched by an existing werewolf first. There had been no reports and, as far as Elsa knew, there was no secret werewolf movement that had a desire to start creating new werewolves or bringing reformed ones back to the pack so to speak; nothing like the Blood Movement in werewolf form.

So, tonight, on a full moon, in this part of the country at least, the last thing she should be smelling was the strong and stomach turning aroma of a new werewolf.

Elsa stood still and focussed on the scent, as disgusting as it was. Logan had tried to explain to her once when she’d teasingly complained of his ‘wet dog’ aroma, that she should try being around a werewolf the first time they ever turned. Everything was heightened the first time, he’d explained, smell, behaviour, lust for the kill; everything. Just as vampires woke to their new life with such a craving for blood that they would tear into the person they loved most in the world to satisfy it, werewolves too were far more vicious and uncontrollable the first time they turned. 

It was coming closer, drawn by the noise, heat and the smell of the bar. She was the only person outside at the moment, the band had more than captivated there audience. Everyone inside was effectively trapped and about to become a new werewolf’s all you can eat buffet.

“Hey Elsa!” Crap, now Grant and Emily had come outside to find her, “You’ve got to come back in for the last song, it’s killer.”

Elsa’s mind was working fast as only hers could, they had seconds before this werewolf she could smell would launch an attack. She could hear it too, it’s muscles creaking over it’s bones as it prowled ever closer. The first time a werewolf turns is immeasurably painful, its bones, muscles and ligaments struggle to take on it’s new form and she could hear the cracking of bone and tearing of flesh as this wolf continued to complete it’s transformation. She’d read about the transformation and seen pictures, actual photographic evidence of a first turn. It was horrific, after the first time, a werewolf could turn in minutes but the first time took hours. There were records of werewolves attacking that still appeared half human, howling with their own pain and the horror of what they were doing as they tore their prey apart.

She knew she could get Grant and Emily away fast, to safety, she could carry them both. But that would leave a bar full of people for the werewolf to feast on and she couldn’t allow that. She had to remove the threat and to do that she would have to become the thing she hated, she would have to let her vampire out and that was something she hadn’t done since Morocco when she was full of serum and a synthetic substitute for Sebastian’s blood, along with a tiny bit of his actual blood. All these things gave her control. Right now she had none of those things.