['Ginnis]

Author's Note: These characters are more or less the creation of Vorcla's Quest. They bear many similarities to their real life inspirations however like anything inspired by real life, are far from being identical. No personal injury was intended by their fabrication. Continuation of the plot was granted to the author. Enjoy.



Dylan Vorcla awoke to the harsh pitter patter of rain upon the window sill. Rubbing his brow, he focused on the alarm clock on the other side of the bed. It was hardly four. Realizing that he was now the only body occupying the bed, his head hurt even more. Please tell me she hasn’t…

He quickly pulled on his flannel bathrobe and headed downstairs. A Post-It note fluttered in the small draft, stuck carelessly on to the fridge, its handwriting quick and thoughtless.
Gone Hunting. She had. He could smell her scent getting stronger; she was returning, the smell of blood just as ripe as her natural odor. He considered that it was time for the two to have yet another talk, put a pot of coffee on, and sat at the small breakfast bar. Staring out into the dark trees, he waited patiently.

The house was large yet homely, not quiet yet old enough to be comfortable but not so new
as to be cold. He’d never planned on staying, on calling this his home, but something in the back of his mind had always told him that he never wanted to leave either. It wasn’t the house. It wasn’t even the present company, or perhaps at the moment the lack there of, that made him hesitant. His own defiance was enough to leave him unsettled. He felt almost as if he were a sitting duck, waiting calmly in his woodsy mansion. The end was imminent, so much he knew. It was no longer the fear of leaving that terrified him, but rather what he would have to leave behind.

He could just see her running through the edge of the copse, the reflective streaks of her trainers catching what subtle hints of moonlight that made it through the smothering clouds. As she drew closer, still a mile off, the panting of her breath grew harder and harder. Finally her feet pounded on the wooden stairs up to the second story deck of their home, and she let herself in through the sliding glass door, dripping water all over the hardwood floors.

“Good morning,” he rubbed his temple, not bothering to look up at her. The shrill alarm of the coffee machine made him wince, but the warm aroma of roasted beans helped slightly. He stood to pour them both a cup of coffee. “I think we need to talk.”

“Damn straight we do,” she muttered. He turned his head over his shoulder, surprised by the tone of her voice. Instead of the thread of rabbits he expected to see hanging from a chain, Kara only held a bear trap in her hands. He stared down at her ankles and realized the blood he smelt was not from a kill, but her own.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, not again,” he put down the coffee mugs.

Kara threw the bear trap down on the floor and stormed off towards the master bedroom, stripping off her soaked clothes as she went. Vorcla started to follow her, but stopped when she slammed the door to the connecting bath shut. He stood, slightly conflicted as to whether or not to attempt consolation, and listened as she rifled through the medicine cabinet and turned on the shower. Finding the door locked, he decided it was best to let her be, and returned to the kitchen.

The sun crept above the treetop horizon, though still choked behind the dark veil of rain clouds, when the running water from the shower stopped. Vorcla was already behind his computer desk, at work in the study adjacent to the second floor landing when Kara came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her short hair combed and tucked behind her ears. Sulkily she sat on the arm of his work chair, and ran a hand through his soft blonde hair.

“I’m sorry, Dylan,” she murmured. She choked on her own tears of vulnerability, a mixed convoluted mess of emotion raged inside her head. “I’m not as strong as you are. I can’t control it anymore.”

He bit his tongue and pulled her off the armrest and into his lap. She put her damp head on his shoulders and began to shake in stifled cries which soon became uncontrolled sobs. He knew exactly how she felt.

Living a life in the shadow of the Wolf was miserable for the large part. He had known it all his life. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to know life without it and then be forced to suffer the curse. Kara was perfectly capable of controlling the inner urges that both of them felt, but she was tired and jaded. Twenty eight days was hardly enough to recover from each Change to the next. For someone who couldn’t yet bear the psychological effects of the Change, it was as if she had been tossed into a wave pool of chaos, being pulled under one second and slammed against the ocean floor the next. Her cries finally stopped, and Dylan realized she had fallen asleep in his arms. He picked up her limp body and carried her back to the bedroom, laying her down softly on her side of the bed.

After changing shirts, exchanging his tear-soaked tee for a button-down white collar, he returned to his desk. Three hours later, the pads of his finger tips were numb and his stomach was practically growling as loud as he could. He was just about to grab a bite to eat for breakfast when a small Instant Messenger window appeared in the corner of his screen. He squinted at it curiously, and then rolled his eyes when the Webcam request confirmed the worst. It was a visual telephone call from an office associate in Hong Kong.

“Good morning,” Vorcla muttered as he opened the window. The crisp reflection of his former partner, Jared Linsky, appeared in the box beside his own camera image. Jared’s perfect tie and suit blended in with his black leather chair; it appeared that his head was merely floating in the sunlight that filtered through his large, expansive office overlooking the harbor.

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Dylan Vorcla, back amongst the living?” Jared’s thick British accent came in clear over the microphone. The two had met at business school following their post graduate degrees and joined a strong firm in New York, trading stock as techies through their intern years and eventually gaining some repute with the company. They finally parted ways when Jared was offered the job in China, and Vorcla sauntered off to Europe, eager to rid himself of the company. Instead a calm sabbatical in the Welsh countryside he found himself a pawn in the Vampiress Morella’s game, next thing he knew he had been hung, shot, and practically married.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dylan shrugged and reclined in his chair. “More like working reclusively.”

“Sounds peachy,” Jared had barely heard him. “How’s the Mrs.?”

“There is no Mrs., Jared,” Vorcla forced a friendly chuckle.

“Really? Damn, I could have sworn I heard something about you settling down with a coed. Anyways, as pleasant as the chit-chat is, I’ve actually got a business proposition from Morgenstern to toss out to you.” The mention of their old boss’ name made Vorcla cringe. He had been much relieved when he transferred out of the high stress environment to work geo-bachelor for the company despite the fact that in did inherent damage to his economic growth opportunity. If anyone knew that money wasn’t everything, it was he. “There’s a large seminar going on in Adelaide, the week of November twenty-third. Morgenstern would like to meet with you there in order to discuss bringing you back to New York. He misses your work, Dylan. You’re killing the company, hiding all alone out wherever it is you are.”

Dylan had no desire to go to any seminar anywhere, but checked his calendar just for the sake of false appearances. Much to his relief he noticed the small empty lunar circle beside the date and shook his head. “No can do, Jared. My little sister is getting married that weekend. Can’t miss that now can we?” He had never been so pleased for the full moon.

“I didn’t know that you have a sister.”

“Adelaide isn’t an option,” Vorcla wished that this conversation would end sooner rather than later. With mixed indignation he heard the door open on the lower level.

“Hello?” Chris and Bri’s footsteps echoed as they charged to the upper level.

“You have company?” Linsky raised his eyebrows in the small window.

“Neighbors,” Dylan groaned. “If Morgenstern wants to get in touch with me he knows how.”

“Don’t blow this one off, Dylan,” Linsky’s tone was slight more foreboding then one would have considered necessary. “Lot’s of room for growth, and it wouldn’t hurt for you to resurface. Society misses one of its most eligible bachelors.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Vorcla slid the mouse over the small red ‘x’ in the corner of the screen and closed out the conversation without anything else. He lacked the patience to deal with Linksy, Morgenstern, and if he didn’t figure out how to calm down pretty soon, his own friends. He inhaled and realized that his claws were extended, and quickly retracted them back into the tips of his fingers. It wasn’t the first time his emotions had led him to begin Changing without his own consciousness of the fact, but it had been occurring more than usual as of late.

“Knock, knock,” Bri pounded on the frame of his office and waved. Dylan could see Chris meandering in the kitchen just beyond the door frame, already going for his own cup of coffee.

Dylan leaned back in his leather computer chair for a moment and sniffed the air. The scent of the house had changed since their entrance, Bri’s in particular. A smile crossed his face, all too aware of what was going on. Chris’ face said it all when he appeared behind her.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked, her cheeks guiltily flushed as she cast her look downwards.

“So when are you due?”

“June.”

He crossed the room and gave her a hug. “Congratulations, you two.”

“Thanks!” she yipped, throwing her arms around his shoulders, bouncing up and down.
He was able to pry her off in order to shake Chris’ hand. “That’s great, Chris.”

“What’s in your coffee?”

“Coffee.”

“Ah, right,” Chris nodded and turned back into the kitchen. It was all too apparent that Chris had Early Father Syndrome. “Where’s Kara?”

“Sleeping,” Dylan refilled his own coffee mug and reached to fill another for Bri. He handed it to her but Chris intercepted the transaction skillfully.

“Hey!”

“You’re off caffeine, remember?” Overly Protective Early Father Syndrome.

“You expect me to go seven months without caffeine?”

“And alcohol, and nicotine, and whatever other dangerous substances you can think of.”

“Am I even allowed to use the microwave?”

“Only if you promise to wear a lead vest.”

“I have green tea,” Vorcla offered.

“I’ll make it,” Bri turned around and filled the kettle with water. Vorcla shook his head as she
maneuvered her way around the kitchen. He wouldn’t be surprised if she knew the drawers and cupboards better than he did. When she and Chris returned from Australia a year ago and decided to take up residence in Merthyr Tywyn he had no idea that they would practically be moving in. The two owned a small apartment in town, but near every moment that they weren’t working or that he and Kara weren’t locked in the safe room downstairs they were here. Bri carried on a conversation casually as she worked. “So Kara’s still sleeping?”

“Aren’t you two normally up at the crack of dawn?”

“It’s that time of the month,” Vorcla found a lie to excuse Kara’s absence. He didn’t feel like explaining that the two were the cusp of a serious row. The tensions had been brewing for weeks, and the coupling of the Change wasn’t helping in the least.
Chris furrowed his brow. “I thought the full moon wasn’t for another week.”

“The other time of the month, dearest,” Bri shook her head as she shoved the box of tea leaves back into a cabinet above the stove.

“Right,” he cast a wayward glance downwards.

As if on cue the bedroom door opened and Kara crossed into the kitchen wearing one of Vorcla’s faded Eagles tees and a pair of boxers.
She ripped open the fridge door, rubbing her stomach. “Have we gotten to breakfast yet? And what smells like rotten milk?” She bent down to look inside and then stood up again, shaking her head, confused. She turned to face the rest of them. “We don’t even have any milk.”

Bri’s suppressed laughs interrupted and Kara’s jaw dropped when she realized what she smelt.

“Oh my God!” Kara covered her mouth with her hands.

“I know, right?” Bri squealed. The two embraced and began to jump up and down excitedly.

Vorcla shook his head and retrieved a bottle of Tylenol from the bathroom, popping two in his mouth as he came through the threshold. They were still shrieking gleefully, but Chris’ attention had turned to the large rusted bear trap on the floor by the butcher’s block kitchen island.

“Gone hunting?”

The excitement died as he picked up the heavy contraption and put it down on top of the counter. Kara stared at it for a moment then turned to fill up her own coffee mug. Bri sent a nervous look to Vorcla and wandered into Chris’ protective arm.

“Not exactly,” Vorcla denied. Kara stared into her mug, restraining her own thoughts on the matter. She knew they differed from his greatly. “Kara found it this morning.”

“Define found,” Bri’s voice wavered slightly.

“I’m fine.”

“I thought you cleared the woods,” Chris stated the fact more than questioned it.

“We did,” Kara spoke up. “Twice.”

“We must have missed one,” Vorcla shook it off. “We own over ten acres of land, Kara. It’s not as if-”

“That’s a load of crap and you know it,” she snapped. Chris and Bri exchanged cautious looks. Vorcla’s patience began to fade. He was far from an irrational man, but his temperament was more apt to deny the possibilities she suggested than it was to believe them.

“Perhaps it was just a trapper,” Bri offered in hopes of soothing the fight she could see coming. “It’s not as if poaching is unheard of, and fox season just came to a close.”

“That’s far too large to be a fox trap, Bri,” Chris said quietly.

Silence smothered the kitchen as both Kara and Vorcla refused to make eye contact, each staring in to their coffee mugs. The heavy rain continued to pound on the window sills; the roof echoed each tiny blow. The kettle on the stove screamed as steam poured out the spout and Bri hurried to take it off the flame. She poured herself a mug and just as she took her first sip a loud crack of lighting followed by the earth shaking roar of thunder sent the entire kitchen and house in to utter darkness. Vorcla was the first to speak.

“You two should probably get home.” It was slightly more than a suggestion. “Wouldn’t want the road to flood.”

“Are you going to be alright out here?” Bri nodded, putting her fresh cup in the sink.

“Takes a bit more than a rain storm to kill us,” Kara reassured with a forced smile. Chris led Bri down the stairs and they waved up to the top balcony with goodbyes before dodging out into the torrents of wind and rain. Vorcla and Kara watched through the windows as their taillights disappeared in between the tree trunks and raindrops. She left him at the railing and returned to the kitchen. “You didn’t eat?”

“What’s wrong?” he asked as she re-opened the fridge and pulled out the makings for omelets. As she whisked together the ingredients and waited for the skillet to heat up she was silent. Not in favor of her cold shoulder treatment, he attempted to read her thoughts, but she quickly shut him out with a blow of mind-numbing pain. He grunted and then rubbed his temple. “Jesus! A simple ‘get out’ would have done!”

“You should have known better,” she said snidely as she began to chop onions.

“Why won’t you talk to me about this?”

“What is there to talk about?” her voice grew louder as she used the knife to swipe the onions into the battered eggs. “I’m obviously insane. No, Kara, there’s not the slightest chance that someone could be on to us and waiting. Nope, we must have just missed one of Morella’s traps when we cleared the woods. That’s the only possible, logical, believable, explanation.”

“You make it sound as if it’s ridiculous.”

“I run that path every day, Dylan,” she slammed the tip of the knife into the cutting board.

“You run it with me. You know as well as I do that there was nothing there yesterday morning.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Well excuse me,” she threw her hands up into the air. “I’ll make sure to remember to stay calm the next time I break my leg when I go for a morning jog.”

“We both know you were out for more than a jog, Kara,” he pulled the Post-It note off of the fridge and waved it before her. It was a miracle Chris and Bri hadn’t noticed it. She fell quiet but the red in her face didn’t fade. She turned her back to him and poured the contents of the bowl into the skillet, then began to prod at the eggs with a spatula. He exhaled deeply and shook his head. “You’ve got to be more careful.”

She bit her lower lip and nodded, restraining the frustrated tears that welled in her eyes.

“Hey now,” he could see her shoulder’s began to bob. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “No crying now.”

“It’s the onions.”

“You’re a rotten liar.”

She turned around in his embrace and looked up at him. He was surprised to see that she was more afraid than angry, her eyes hosting more terror than angst.

“Do you really think that someone’s on to us?” he asked her, taken aback by her discomfort.
This was more than hormonal rage and frustration, this was sheer nervousness. He couldn’t deny the slight possibility that they were being tailed, but rather live out his fears like Kara, he preferred to deny them as foolish paranoia.

“You don’t?”

He took that with a grain of salt and thought for a moment. Finally he spoke. “We’ll do one more sweep. We can start tomorrow.” Another clash of thunder shook the house again.

“Or whenever this damn rain lets up.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, and then buried her head in his chest. He stroked the back of her head a couple times and kissed her forehead. The lights flickered on again and the low humming from his computer in the study resumed. “Go check your stuff, I’ll bring you your food.”

“Thanks, hun.”

She almost finished cooking their meal when another clash of thunder and lighting shook the foundations. The lights went off and Vorcla’s shout of discontent echoed through the hallway. She tried her best to restrain any sort of obvious amusement as he came back into the kitchen from the study and reclined against the butcher’s block.

“The joys of rural electric,” he moaned into his hand as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Kara turned off the heat and moved the skillet aside before she sauntered over to him and threw her arms around his neck.

“So I assume you’re done with work for the day?”

“Looks that way.”

She kissed him quickly then looked up at him playfully. “Good, because I can think of several ways in which to spend the afternoon.”

“It’s still morning,” he cast a look to the corner clock and winked down at her. She kissed him again then tugged on his hand as she stepped towards the bedroom.

“Even better.”

[Vorcla]

Ah, Kara, you know how much I love this story. I couldn't wait for you to post it! This is an intelligent horror story. I think it rivals your "Tinseltown" series for quality, and I think "Tinsel" would be publication-worthy after you fine-tooth combed it.

The characters we've come to know have evolved, as you would expect after the time lapse you postulate. Your images, your descriptions, border on the poetic. You feel like you're there. Little touches - Kara wearing one of Vorc's Eagles tee shirts (how did you EVER guess he liked the Eagles? ) - and your realistic dialogue just make this story breathe. You grab us by the shirtfront right off the bat with Kara coming in with a bear trap that bit her. The affection and simultaneous tension between Kara and Vorcla is in sharp contrast to the pleasant domesticity of Bri and Chris, and the interplay is just fabulous.

If I have any complaint at all, it's...THAT I'LL HAVE TO WAIT FOR PART 2 NOW!

This is just so fine, hun. Great job. And thanks for letting me have an advance look!

[Jimbalaya]

Ho-lee SHIT! What's this? What have you two got going on? Is there something you need to tell us?

Seriously, I was completely blown away with this, and what a surprise! I had no idea this was in the works. Kara, the quality of this is way, WAY up there. And the story! I have to echo what Rick said, the little things you throw in there absolutly make this story. The tee shirt, the characters expressions are flawless, the frustration they feel. It's been a long time since I read something that actually grabbed my by the ear and pulled me in like a snot-nosed little grand kid.

I didn't notice one thing wrong, but honestly I was being dragged along and didn't really give a flying turd about mistakes, you could have written it backwards and I wouldn't have noticed. I can't say it enough this is excellent!

I like where you've begun the story, how some time has passed from the last one and they have actually settled down somewhat. The contrast between the sweet, soft relationship of Chris and Bri and the boiling teeter-totter of Vorcla's and Kara's relationship gives a perfect balance to this piece. All the dialog flowed perfectly and just by reading the dialogue I could actually see in my mind what these people looked like, their body language, and relate to their emotions. It was flawless in my opinion. This earns "The Story I'm Most Looking Forward To" award for the following month at least. Great, great work.

[Nupur]

This is excellent, Kara! I read it on GPRS a couple of days back and had a wonderful comment typed out. But it got screwed up. Ah, anyway. I love your dialogues and the characterization. Totally agree with Rick and Jim. The relationships, and everything else about this one is very well done. Can't add anything to what's been said. But I do suggest you go through this once again. There are a couple of lets/let's errors. Sorry, I would have quoted the text but I'm not at my computer right now. Overall, I love it and can't wait for part 2. Awesome job on this one!

[katofmystery]

I'm sorry to say this but. . . (and this it totally up to you) I think that you should post the next part ummm. . . TODAY?

Seriously though I loved it. . . You did as good (if not better ) than Rick at the first part! Two thumbs WAY up!

[Venomous Vixen]

Oh hell - I am knocked up it seems Any chances you can just hunt that right out of my belly for me Kara dear? hehe.

Exquisite writing, truly, and a seamless tie between the end of Rick's series and the start of yours. As always, you astound me with your dialog... dialogue... never quite know which spelling to use for that damn word.

Well done, well deserved PICK and looking forward to more!

[dearest]

Congrats on the PICK and on one amazing story! I haven't read the first Vorcla's Quest, but you've sucked me in, and now it seems like I'm going to have to look it up. Really, the way you play the characters off each other is great (the vorcla/kara and chris/bri foil that was already pointed out), not to mention the top notch dialogue. I only spotted two little mistakes, and I'm talking miniscule.

The house was large yet homely, not quiet yet old enough to be comfortable but not so new
as to be cold.

Odd spacing there too.

geo-bachelor for the company despite the fact that in did inherent damage

Something to do if you have spare time, but obviously not all that pressing. So, as I said, nearly flawless in every way, and an extremely interesting read. I'll be following this one for sure. ^_^

[xtremelady]

Very, very enjoyable read – I love it. The characters and plot so far – will be going on to read others with relish.

[Ryankia]

Oh, Kara. You really making this an enthralling selection to read! All of them...

So real and personable. Well done.

[RENA HANDS]

First, love the warning, correction, author’s note.

Not a biggy, but your third paragraph is spaced improperly.

Should these sentences be separated…Thanks! She yipped, throwing…
He was able to pry…?

Again, your spacing is off (doesn’t hurt the story) but, it’s all in the presentation as they say…I’ll make it, Bri turned around…

Here, the spacing again…It’s that time of month,…

Is it one shoulder bobbing or both? …

he could see her (shoulders) shoulder’s began to bob. ?

The spacing here...,taken aback by her discomfort. Is it one paragraph?

Many joyous smiles. I love this! You are doing something new, well it’s new to me. I think it shall be as Marvelous as Tinseltown. By the way, when are you getting back to it? Anyway, I highly rate 4/5!

[Lubesh]

Due to 'things'I amalwys neglectful in reading and following through my 'picks'. This has been on my list for ages and am beginnign to delve.....wish I hadn't cos lazy or not am hooked. Your reputation preceeded you and you have surpassed that. Your writing as with ur other stuff is a delight and someone said 'intelligent, it si that and clear concise..and entertaining as it unfolds and we know the potential ahead. Also its been ages since i read this genre or watched and to see moderna woven in jsut like that is amazing ..refreshing to an old bod like melol

Will gradually get through these!

['Ginnis]

Wow, Lu. Thanks so much for your thoughts and attention. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Thank you, everyone actually. I didn't start commenting on my own work into a little bit deeper into the story. Thanks a ton for the thoughts and support. It turned out pretty well.

[Vorcla]

Originally Posted by 'Ginnis;

Thank you, everyone actually. I didn't start commenting on my own work into a little bit deeper into the story. Thanks a ton for the thoughts and support. It turned out pretty well.

Indeed. I say again, Kara, one of your many and varied gifts is your gift for understatement.