A Cat's Chance in Hell (3 page)

A few weeks after he started attending Parkhurst High he met
her
. Kyle had certain abilities that no one else in the world possessed, or so he thought. These abilities stemmed from the fact that when his mother had been infected with the Lycanthropy virus she had been over eight months pregnant. She’d survived the attack of the Werewolf, as well as the attack of the virus, and had given birth to him a few days later, shortly before she underwent her first change. She never told him the exact details of how she coped those first few weeks and months; it had obviously been an extremely difficult time for both her and his father. Kyle seemed to be a perfectly healthy baby and didn’t seem to be affected by the lycanthropy virus. His mother had hoped that somehow the womb had protected him. Kyle’s father hung around for a year or so and then vanished, leaving her and Kyle to fend for themselves. Kyle still had no idea where his father was, or even if he was still alive. Although he didn’t hold any real grudge against the man, he had no interest in finding and reconnecting with him.

As Kyle grew, it became apparent that he had
indeed been affected by the virus, but not in the usual way. He had heightened senses of smell, hearing and eyesight, and an uncanny ability to move absolutely silently. He was fearless and agile and often astounded other people with his physical coordination and ability. His mother began to tell people he was older than he actually was, for fear that someone would begin asking uncomfortable questions. She kept him well away from doctors and hospitals, terrified of what they may find. Fortunately he never got so much as a cold or flu, and with their frequent moves, no-one became suspicious of his incredible abilities and growth spurts. She taught him from a young age how to disguise his extra abilities, but he found it difficult to “play dumb” when he could smell and hear better than any normal human. He never experienced a need to change as his mother did, and somehow didn’t seem to have the volatile temper innate in all ‘made’ Werewolves. But the fact remained that he was a supernatural anomaly. Lycanthropy renders males sterile and females unable to carry a child to term. This startling fact meant that all Werewolves are made by surviving a Werewolf bite – Werewolves are not born. He was something no other Werewolf had ever heard of, abnormal in Werewolf society, and certainly outcast in human society if anyone ever found out the truth. This left him feeling like an outcast in life. He would’ve had no shortage of female company with his looks and physique, but he tended to brush them off when they tried to strike up any kind of conversation with him, he was too nervous of unwittingly revealing his true nature. And so he became known as a quiet loner with no close friends and no major enemies. Until the day
she
walked past him in the school corridor.

He’d been walking to Science class when a peculiar scent caught his nose. He was used to sifting through a million different smells every day, everything from deodorant, perfume and shampoo, to bad breath, dope smoke and teenage hormones. This scent triggered an instant adrenaline surge through his body. He had never experienced anything like it. He froze on the spot, his mind going blank as students jostled him in their rush to class. He shook himself aware enough to shove his way to the corridor wall, putting his back against it and looking around anxiously to locate the source of the scent. He closed his eyes and concentrated on that individual smell, following it to its strongest point. When his eyes flashed open they were looking directly into the eyes of a petite, auburn haired girl on the other side of the corridor. She also seemed to be frozen in place, staring directly at him, as a tide of children surged around them.

Could this strange, alarming scent really be coming from this tiny slip of a girl? He blinked, confused and slightly dazed, wondering about his reaction to the smell. It wasn’t even a bad smell, just different, and it was making his senses scream ‘Danger’. He felt his breathing quicken and his pulse speed up, his muscles tense to attack or run. The “fight or flight” instinct took control of his body. Then a student clipped him with her bag, breaking his intense concentration on the girl and his rational mind had a chance to assess the situation. He forced himself to calm down and look at the girl with an open mind. He realised then, that although this slip of a girl, barely into her teens, was standing in the middle of the flow of students, no one touched her, no one jostled her, no one cussed her for standing in the way. It stuck him as extremely odd.

Her eyes suddenly narrowed, and her face took on a predatory look,
as though she’d made up her mind about something. She stared directly into his eyes and then flicked her head to one side; her auburn curls bouncing, and looked pointedly at the exit door at the end of the corridor. He glanced at the door and then back to the girl, but she was gone. He gasped, looking around in confusion at the mostly empty corridor. A second later he found her looking at him from just outside the open door, a small, condescending smile on her lips and open challenge in the slight raise of her one eyebrow. He didn’t give himself time to think, he simply reacted to the dare. Curiosity killed the cat, not the wolf after all.

He slipped quickly to the open door and out onto the concrete path, closing the door behind him. His breathing was still coming too fast and his heart was pounding in his chest. He located her almost immediately; she was standing under a tree almost behind the gymnasium building. Anyone looking out of a classroom window wouldn’t see her, but he was going to have to get really close to her if he didn’t want to be spotted by a teacher. He decided to ignore his base instincts and go with the cocky self-assurance of a youth who hadn’t met anyone who would be a danger to him; semi-werewolf that he was. He should probably have trusted his instincts. He melted into the shadows of the building and slipped quietly through their protection to come up a few feet behind her. The next instant he was lying face first in the dirt with both arms behind his back and a slight weight in the very centre of his spine. He was utterly stunned. His muscles bunched to throw her off when her voice came from just behind his left ear.

“
If you move I will break your spine,” she said from between clenched teeth. Her bony little knee pushed further into his vertebrae to illustrate her point. “Hold still and we can talk.”

Her hands had his wrists in an unnaturally powerful grip. His wolf instinct howled to get away from her immediately, by any means necessary, but his human intuition overrode that. She wasn’t actually hurting him; if she meant him harm she
could have hurt him already. He found himself wondering if she was as scared of him as he was of her. He realised it was possible that she had also never smelled anything like him, and was just as curious. Years of dealing with his mother had taught him that violence rarely solved anything, so he lay passively underneath her. Now that he was calmer he could hear her heart racing as well, could taste the slight tang of fear in her, could hear her breath coming much too fast.

“
What
are
you?” She growled in her little, feminine voice. Her words confirmed his suspicions.

He raised his head a little, cautiously, spitting out dirt. “If you let me up and stop acting like a little animal, I’ll tell you,” he admonished. “There’s no need for all the theatrics!”

She’d let him up after some assurances from him that he wasn’t going to retaliate for her unprovoked attack on him. They’d moved further away from the school into a nearby thicket of bushes and spent the rest of the school day talking.

H
e’d never thought he would meet someone else with a story as bizarre as his own. He’d never thought to meet anyone aside from his mother that he could open up to about his life without fear of rejection, revulsion or horror, and with total understanding. What were the chances of the two of them meeting, how astounding that they had found each other. How ignorant he’d been, thinking that Werewolves were the only supernatural beings wandering the planet, the only creatures from human nightmares that actually existed.

Her name was Gabrielle and, like him,
she was an anomaly and had been from birth. Gabrielle had the blood of a Vampire running in her veins. Her mother had also been attacked when she was already pregnant, although it was so early in the pregnancy that she hadn’t known it at the time. It was dark and late when she headed home one evening. A lone Vampire had attacked her and dragged her into a back alleyway. Unbelievably, another Vampire had appeared in the alley and, instead of joining in the meal, had attacked the first Vampire. During the fight Gabi’s mother had been forced into a corner of the alley trying to stay out of the way. The two Vampires ripped into each other, showering everything close by with their blood, including her mother. At one point a fountain of Vampire blood had sprayed directly into her face and she had reflexively swallowed the blood in her fright. The second Vampire had ultimately beaten the first one, but seemed badly injured himself. He left the scene without a word or a glance her way. Weeks later she discovered she was pregnant and had been already at the time of the attack. Her parents kept this terrifying story from everyone except her father’s close friend Byron who had his own reasons for believing and understanding the outlandish tale.

Gabi was born a few months later, premature but healthy. As Gabi grew, there still seemed to be little that was unusual about her, aside from extraordinary good health and being quick to walk and talk. There was nothing that couldn’t be explained by good genes and conscientious parenting. Her parents had breathed a sigh of relief and stopped worrying about it, settling down to enjoy their new little family.

That had all changed shortly after her seventh birthday.
Her parents had gone looking for her in their back garden, and found her sitting on the grass surrounded by wild animals. When they called to her, asking what was going on, she had calmly replied that she liked talking to them and they liked talking to her. This had been the first of her powers to manifest. She could literally talk the birds down from the trees, or soothe the most vicious dog. Soon she began to develop amazing eyesight and hearing, and then an incredible sense of smell. Her father had gently explained to her that she needed to hide these extra abilities from other people, and she had only been allowed to “talk” to animals when she was safely alone at home, or around Byron, who was privy to all the new developments. Though they constantly locked horns over why she needed to do it. She’d become a somewhat spoilt only child; wilful and accustomed to getting her own way, and she had quite a temper. Her father was adamant however, and she conceded in the end.

Life had turned tragic for her when, at age 10, her father had been killed by a Vampire. Her father and Byron, who had Magi parents, had co-founded the Societas Malus Venatori (Latin for Hunters of Evil); a secret organisation of Shapeshifters, Magi and humans that monitored supernatural activity and silently dealt out punishment to supernaturals who attacked others with apparent impunity. When a supernatural went rogue things could get unpleasant fast, so they needed to be dealt with quickly and quietly. The SMV routinely hunted down rogues and eliminated them, disposing of evidence of the kills and using Magi to erase the memories of any humans involved. Gabi’s father had been on a hunt for a particularly brutal Vampire when he was killed. The shock had been immense for her mom, and she’d sunk into a deep depression, leaving a young Gabi confused and adrift. Byron had helped as much as he could, sending her mother for counselling and winding up her father’s estate. There had been a large life insurance policy and share portfolio ensuring that Gabi and her mother would not have any financial worries, but that could never start to replace his presence in their lives.

Gabi had had to grow up fast, she
’d assumed many of the responsibilities of running the household, as well as looking after her mother. Byron and his wife spent as much time as they could helping out, but many tasks still fell on Gabi’s slim shoulders. Between her duties at home, her mother’s erratic behaviour and her own feelings of abnormality, Gabi had no close friends and few casual friends. She comforted herself with animals, and amassed a small menagerie to keep herself sane.

By the time Kyle and Gabi met, her mother had recovered from her depression and had even begun seeing someone. Gabi detested him and spent every spare moment devising ways to make his life miserable. Kyle and Gabi had become firm friends after that first meeting, both finding immense relief in having someone they could be completely honest and open with. Kyle was the perfect foil for Gabi’s fiery temper, and the passionate loves and hates of her life. He was strong enough to not always give in to her, and resilient enough to put up with the explosions that followed when he didn’t. Gabi gave Kyle his first real friend and a goal to work towards once she told him of the existence of the SMV. He finally had someone he could push himself physically in front of without having to hold back. In truth, most kids at school assumed they were involved in more than a platonic relationship, and though they had actually given it a try, it hadn’t worked out. She was the closest thing he had to a sibling, he was the big brother she’d never had. The fact that they both had enhanced senses, speed and strength led to a constant testing of one another, Kyle always trying to be the gentleman and Gabi always taking advantage of that.

When Kyle
left school he’d been accepted immediately into the SMV as a Hunter Trainee. But a few years later when Gabi left school Byron had dug his heels in and insisted that she take time to mature and to get a tertiary qualification, perhaps hoping she’d give up the idea in a couple of years.