Page 68 of The Tracker's Rage
Chapter 24
“The what?!” I exclaimed. I didn’t know what “hybrid pack” meant, but it sure sounded like heresy.
Among Stales hybrid things were normally good like Prius cars or cotton candy grapes. Those things were wholesome, but a hybrid pack sounded like nothing but trouble.
Jake let out a sharp exhale, then met my gaze. The expression of horror etched on his face sent a chill down my spine.
“Ulfen is talking about a werewolf who is also a vampire,” he said with a shudder that he disguised as a roll of his shoulders.
“Um, I thought that was impossible,” I said, subconsciously lifting a hand to my neck. “I thought werewolves were immune to vampire venom.”
“And we are.” Ulfen walked away from the windows and took a seat across from me again. “Unless,” he pointed toward the sketch I’d made, which still lay unfinished on the coffee table, “unless the Unholy Vessel has been unearthed.”
He let that sink in, and sink it did. I felt as if I’d swallowed a ten-pound pill.
“You see,” he continued, “legend has it that hundreds of years ago, a powerful mage created a vessel and infused it with a spell of his own creation. He lived in a town ravaged by both werewolves and vampires. One day, after a long journey, he came back to find his entire family slaughtered by vampires. His wife, five children, and elderly mother had been drained then torn to pieces. After grieving for weeks, he vowed revenge against the coven that killed his family. He became obsessed, crazy, his neighbors said. He rarely came out of his house. Years went by, and he became an old man. Everyone had discounted him, forgotten about him. But he never stopped working on his revenge.
“It took him over thirty years to perfect the spell he put on the vessel, but he did it. The accounts of how he created the first hybrid vary. Some say he captured a weak vampire, drained him of his blood, then tricked a pack of werewolves to drink the blood. Others claimed that he found willing participants, that he told them drinking vampire blood from the vessel would make them stronger.
“Whatever the case, after every member of the pack drank from the tainted blood, they did grow stronger, but also became the mage’s slaves. They were monstrous—not wolves anymore but revolting creatures given to carnage.
“The spell allowed the mage to control them. But that wasn’t all, they also became hungry for blood, insatiable, willing to go to any lengths to get it. The mage used this hunger and wildness to his advantage. He sent the pack to destroy the coven that had killed his family. The hybrids were so strong they didn’t have any trouble with their task. They killed every single vampire, including the eldest and strongest among them. But when they were done with the coven, their hunger was far from satiated, so they went back to the town and massacred every single resident, including the mage who, in his madness, relished the chaos he’d caused and welcomed his death with open arms.
“After that, the hybrids went their separate ways, killing whoever they encountered. It took a concerted effort from several packs to hunt them all down and kill them. Afterward, they tried to destroy the Unholy Vessel, but it was impossible. So they hid it, buried it somewhere. This symbol,” he pulled the paper closer and examined it with weary eyes, “was created as a warning. It represents the mage’s creation and reminds werewolves of what can happen if the vessel fell in the wrong hands.”
Ulfen’s voice rang in the air even after he stopped talking. I rubbed my arms, trying to dispel the chills that were sprouting goose bumps over my skin.
Jake ran stiff fingers into his hair, looking as unsettled as I felt. “I think now I remember my grandfather telling me something about it when I was little.”
“For generations the warning has been getting weaker and weaker,” Ulfen said. “My ancestors, however, were involved in the hunting of those hybrids, so the message has been passed down with more persistence than in other families.”
“Do you know where the item is supposed to be hidden?” I asked as I tried to get my insides to go from Jell-O back to something more solid.
Ulfen shook his head. “No, that knowledge died with the man who buried the vessel. Or at least, it was supposed to.”
“This... doesn’t necessarily mean that someone has found the vessel,” I said. “Maybe, for some reason, Stephen was just thinking about it when I touched the necklace.”
“It seems unlikely,” Jake said. “I personally think he was preoccupied with grabbing your ass.”
Ulfen made a face and cut a glance between Jake and me.
