Inside the Werewolf, Ron Talbot was riding the whirlwind.
Sights, sounds, and smells- especially smells- were singing to him. He knew and felt things he had never thought possible before. His limbs were filled with boundless energy. He had never felt so alive.
The human part of him regretted the death of Veronica Winters, but it was not a major concern to him. His anguish over his lost humanity was of no more moment than stubbing his toe. All that he had known or believed about right and wrong had faded into the haziness of a dream.
Only now mattered. His strength. His speed. His boundless hunger and bloodlust. The urge to kill- and feast- burned in him so deeply that it hurt.
And yet for all that, he was still Ron Talbot. He knew what he was, and knew what he had been. He knew that when his humanity returned he would feel shame and guilt and horror over what he had done . . . what he would do tonight.
But that would come later. The human Ron Talbot would feel those things. The Werewolf wanted only to run, to hunt . . . to kill.
Howling in exultation, he ran.
The Wolf Man escaped from the castle with little difficulty. The huge black iron doors that had been the bane of Ron Talbot's escape attempt were no match for his supernatural strength. Smashing through the doors, he quickly ran outside and easily detected the spoor of his grandson.
The Wolf Man had fed well that night. The urge to kill was not upon him. It was a different need that drove him. Unlike Ron Talbot, precious little of Lawrence Talbot's human mind remained in the brain of the Wolf Man. Larry Talbot remembered something of his actions when he returned to human form, but only in a vague, hazy sort of way. The Wolf Man was a creature of instinct and action, not thought or memory.
But even a creature of instinct can recognize the bonds of kinship. On this first night of his descendant's transformation, the Wolf Man felt an overwhelming urge to find his kin. And like the creature of emotion that he was, he did not try to understand his desire; he simply acted upon it.
With the quiet skill of an experienced predator, he silently hunted under the predator's moon . . .
Elizabeth Frankenstein shut off the power to the remaining generators of the lab and looked at the Bride of Frankenstein. "How does your arm feel?"
Elsa flexed her limb and nodded. "Adequate."
"Tell the doctor exactly how you feel, Elsa," Dracula said. "I cannot afford to have you at anything less than full strength." He was back in human form and still staring at the skeleton that had been Veronica Winters. "If you are not fully healed, tell her."
"I am fine," Elsa replied. "Do you want me to . . . take care of her?"
The Count turned his eyes away from the grisly scene. "Later. We need to make sure that Lawrence is still in his cell. I have not heard him howling since Ronald left. We need to know if we face one enemy or two."
Elsa nodded and headed for the door.
"Go with her, Adam," Elizabeth Frankenstein commanded. "It will take the two of you to subdue an angry Wolf Man."
The giant nodded and followed the sleek beauty that had been designed to be his mate.
"I have some questions, Count," Elizabeth stated. "Do you have time to answer them?"
The Count nodded. "We have time."
"First, why don't you just remove Veronica off that post? Won't she return to life if the stake is removed from her heart?"
"No." The Lord of Vampires shook his head. "Only the old- and strong- among us can rise from the dead so easily. Veronica was too young. She will remain dead." He sighed. "A pity, really. She had potential."
Elizabeth Frankenstein chose not to comment on the Count's evident grief. She was wise enough to realize that the Count prided himself on his stoicism- and that the surest way to arouse his wrath would be to suggest he had feelings. It would do her no good to do that- Dracula looked human, but he was every bit as monstrous as the Werewolf that had torn the arm off Elsa. "I still do not understand why you wanted to make Ronald Talbot into a werewolf. And what did you mean 'There are worse things outside my castle than the Werewolf'?"
The Count smiled. "I wished to make Young Talbot into a Werewolf for several reasons, Doctor Frankenstein. First, I wished to avenge myself upon his grandfather. Lawrence Talbot foiled more than one of my plans over the decades- what better revenge could I have on him than to steal the humanity from his grandson? I even have hopes of pitting them against each other so that Lawrence would either finally die or be forced to live with the knowledge that he himself destroyed his family line.
"But Dracula always has more than revenge on his mind. You saw the ferocity and cunning with which Young Talbot fought. Even before his transformation he was able to overcome your ancestor's Monster. If I could enlist him in my service, an immortal Werewolf would make a fine bodyguard."
Elizabeth Frankenstein nodded. "I see. And why did you want to bring me to your island?"
"Elsa has functioned well as my second in command. Her strength is more than human, and she shows no sign of aging. She is the most loyal follower I have ever had- and she can do what even a werewolf cannot: protect me by day." Dracula leaned forward. "With an army of men and women such as her, I could-"
"Conquer the world?"
The Count laughed. "I am not Alexander, my dear doctor. I have no desire to try to conquer the world by force of arms- I will continue with what I have been doing for the last 100 years: work behind the scenes. Let others call themselves, president, king, emperor- as long as the power is mine, I will have no need of the titles.
"But there will always be those who will discover who and what I am. With my own private army of monsters- monsters who can fight by day as well as night- I will be able to strike against my enemies whenever I have need.
"With such an army- with a bodyguard like Young Talbot- I would be invincible. And it would only be a matter of time before those in power work for me. If necessary, I will have their brains replaced with those of my loyal followers-
"You will do this for me, Doctor Frankenstein. You will build me my army. You will help me subvert my enemies."
"Why should I do that?" Elizabeth Frankenstein asked.
The Count laughed slowly and softly. "Because you are a Frankenstein," he said softly. "I have known your family a long time, my dear. I know how Henry preyed upon the charnel houses, the gallows, and robbed graves and tombs for the parts to complete his work. I know how your grandfather Wolf worked for the Nazis in a futile attempt to recreate his great-grandfather's work. I know of the Frankenstein hunger to overcome death and to master the forces of life.
"Serve me, and I will ensure that you have all the materials you need for your work. I am a very powerful man, Doctor Frankenstein. Anything you need to pursue your work I will provide you- so long as you serve me."
Elizabeth Frankenstein smiled. It was a cold smile, completely devoid of warmth or humanity. Indeed, in that moment she seemed less human than the vampire. "In that case, I accept."
"Good," the Count said. "Very good. Do you have any other questions?"
"What lurks beyond your castle?" Elizabeth Frankenstein was not one to turn away from a question- it was that fatal flaw that had been the death of more than one of her ancestors, but Elizabeth was a true Frankenstein. She would have her answer, no matter the cost.
"That is a long story," the Count said. "I found them in Louisiana as I searched for some sign of your ancestor's Monster. I had heard stories of the carnage and bloodshed they wrought, and thought that somehow it was the Monster . . . but it was not. It was something else . . . the work of yet another scientist."
"Go on," Elizabeth murmured.
"Have you ever heard of a Doctor Mark Sinclair and a private clinic called the Cypresses? It was in Bayou Landing, Louisiana in the late 1950s."
Elizabeth Frankenstein frowned. "Actually, yes. I believe I found some notes in my father's records about his correspondences with a Dr. Sinclair regarding cellular regeneration. Dr. Sinclair was most interested in my ancestor's work."
"As well he should have been," Dracula replied. "The late Dr. Sinclair was trying to find a way to cause human beings to regenerate lost or damaged tissue or limbs. He used a hydrocortisone extract from alligators to perform this. And he succeeded . . . up to a point."
"I take it there were . . . side effects?"
"You might say that," the Count laughed. "You might say that."
At that moment, Elsa and Adam returned. The giant glanced over at Elizabeth Frankenstein and frowned. It was plain to see that he did not care for her proximity to the Vampire Lord.
"Well?" the Count asked.
"He is gone," Elsa replied softly.
"Out of his cell?"
"Out of the castle."
The Count frowned. "And yet . . . he has not come to attack us yet. Strange. Lawrence was always predictable- why did he leave?"
"Perhaps he's seeking Ronald," Elizabeth Frankenstein said.
"Indeed," the Count replied. "I wonder- if they will form a pack- or destroy each other?"
"There is no way to tell," the doctor replied.
"We will be ready for them," the Count replied. "Elsa, break out the silver daggers that I had prepared in advance. You and your giant suitor here will guard my tomb as I rest tomorrow."
"We will not look for them?" Elsa asked.
"Lawrence Talbot will not leave this island while I live," the Count replied. "He has sworn himself to my destruction. He is from an age that still believed in honor. If he survives his meeting with Ronald, he will come against me. This I know."
"And Ronald? If he should be the victor?"
"I made Ronald Talbot into a monster. His generation knows how to hate. If he lives, he will seek vengeance against me- and he will come."
"And if they both live?"
The Count smiled a bloody smile. "If they do not kill each other, they will have to survive until the dawn- and the day that will come after that. If they do not kill each other as werewolves, they must yet overcome the Alligator Men before they come against me."
"And if they do that?" Elizabeth Frankenstein asked. "If they join together- and survive your Alligator Men?"
"Then they will have proven themselves worthy to serve me," replied the Lord of the Vampires. "And serve they will- or they will die by my hand . . ."
