Chapter 9: Hunting Ground
"What... what did you just say?" Megan tried shying away from the woman, only to find her feet stuck fast to the ground. She could barely convince her eyes to dart around, praying she might catch one of her friends. But all she found was empty air. The crowds had cleared out with the first attack, leaving her and the woman standing alone.
"I'm saying that you're out of your league. I've seen how much trouble you've gotten into, without the proper guidance." There was a strange, honeyed note to the woman's voice.
"How do you know about me?" Which sunk into her ears and kept her from putting defiance into her words.
"I've had my eye on you, and I've seen how ill at ease you are. You know I can fix that for you," something about that voice raised hairs along the back of Megan's neck and arms. Her legs twitched, like there was a snarl in her ear instead of the woman's voice, urging her to run.
"Megan. You already know how useless running is." The voice thrummed in her ear, taking on a low throaty growl. Megan's eyes twitched backwards, almost expecting to see something pale and four legged rushing across the ground to knock her down.
'Don't think about that.' She forced the thought into her head, but it did little to stop the tremors moving through her body.
"You see, we ALWAYS find you." Her words were like teeth in Megan's ears. Megan's skin flashed hot and cold, like she was bleeding again from so many tears cut into her body and exposed to the night air. Megan shook, sweat prickling along her neck and running down her back, as the scars on her collarbone itched.
'Don't think about that! It was months ago.'
"Who are you?" Her voice was so hoarse, like she'd been screaming again.
"Oh, Megan. You see... I represent something more. An organization." A few surviving flickers of fire caught on the necklace wrapped tight around the woman's throat. The center piece shimmered in the form of a pointed metal star that almost looked like a column of light. Almost like the emblem on those crates from so many months ago.
"Think of us as a guiding light of sorts. We've had our sights on you, and a few of your friends for some time now. Unfortunately, you have a difficult independent streak; it makes our work so much more challenging. So, I've decided to see if coming in person might convince you."
The woman must have seen the doubt crossing Megan's face, from the soft tsking noise she made.
"Ah, Megan dear; you give me so little credit. Why wouldn't I want to assist a poor creature like you? What happened with you and your family was a tragedy, and I KNOW you wouldn't want to repeat that." Her blood went cold, and she couldn't get words out of the dryness in her throat. "To say nothing of your friends, with how shy you are about your wolf. But that's only a hint of what you're truly afraid of, isn't it?"
That prickling sensation running across her skin was just a phantom change, Megan told herself. A nervous stress twitch in her hands. It didn't mean that they were actually shifting. She tried to squeeze her hands into fists, and stopped short as her nails bit into her palms, sharper than she remembered.
The woman moved closer with each word, until she stood right next to Megan with barely a breath between them. Megan's muscles tensed as a hand touched her shoulder, and the other reached out to take her wrist and lift it up with an almost gentle manner. Almost, except that the grip around her wrist was tight enough that Megan knew she couldn't pull free.
"You don't want them to discover WHAT you are." 'Stop' she wanted to croak out, but her throat wouldn't work.
With another tug and a knowing smile, the woman brought Megan's hand up and into the faint light. The display lights and fire that were still flickering on and off showed the thickness of her nails, threw shadows around the pads forming under her fingertips, and pushed a tinted light into the fur dusting the back of her hand and sprouting along the edge of her arm.
The woman didn't recoil from any of that. She glanced over Megan's arm with an interested, appraising air, before looking back at Megan. The look she received was so pitying, Megan wanted to curl away. But still, the grip on her arm remained in place and held her frozen.
"Poor girl. The moon isn't even full, and yet you're still feeling its pull. How you survived without savaging someone else is a miracle." One that wouldn't last forever, that voice cut into her ears.
"I-I'm..." Megan squeaked out, shaking her head. All the reassurances of her friends were leaking out of her head. Her half changed hands curled, earning a patronizing smile from the one still holding them.
"Of course you don't want to be a monster." It was like she could read Megan's mind, or pick out everything from the tension in her body. Megan tried to shake her head, but that voice held her still. "That's why we want to help you, in exchange for a few favors, and obedience-"
"I DON'T WANT YOUR HELP!" Her thoughts screamed when her throat couldn't, so loud they couldn't be kept confined to her own head. Her captor reeled, losing that superior look as her eyes went wide and her grip slacked. Megan yanked her hand free, the drag of her claws taking a few scratches of blood and skin with them.
The world went blurry as she spun and bolted. This was too much like before, feeling her feet pound the ground and her breath go ragged as she ran. But staying with that woman was the worse option.
The world gave up trying to close in on her, with how fast she ran and burst out from the stands. Her body still felt watery and shaky however, and Megan made it a few more steps before hitting the grass with both knees. Her arms, twisted as they were, held her up. She lifted her head to see a giant metal structure looming overhead. The band stage, now emptied out completely.
"Kaldur?" She tried, barely able to raise her voice above a whisper.
"C-Conner?" Somehow, the lack of response from him was even worse.
"Little girl," a new voice put a chill down her spine and left her breath frozen in her throat.
"It took some doing, following your trail. Lucky we had our young hounds to sniff you out." It was the same pitiless, smug voice she'd heard months ago, before erupting into a rush of snarls.
"G-go away." She wheezed out. "I don't want anything to do with you."
"Not really your call, little girl." The voice trailed off into a harsh growl, and she heard footsteps crunching over the grass as a pale figure emerged from the shadow of the stage. He was gaunt, with hollow cheekbones and three cuts under each of his eyes in the form of fresh scars.
"You're Simon. A-and you aren't supposed to be here. I was supposed to get away from you." Megan rasped and was rewarded with a chuckle that sucked the rest of the moisture out of her throat and mouth.
His skin was pale and sickly looking in the night... save for his hands. Something with a harsh glimmer had been fitted over his fingers, looking a lot like claws with their sickle shape. Or something that claws could easily fit into, when the change was made.
"Your eyes appear to be working well enough." He brought them up for a better look. "Silver treated. When you ran the first time, it became clear you needed a harsher reminder on why that's a poor idea. Your choice on how many cuts you need before that lesson sinks in."
-o-o-o-
Kaldur took deep breaths to slow his heart down, so the pounding wouldn't drown out everything else. His ears were the best thing he had, given his eyes were still refusing to clear. Kaldur kept his ears open, trying to pick out clues for the situation. The screams from the crowd had grown more faint and muffled, and strangely he couldn't hear any sirens. When he opened his eyes again the only splotches he saw were orange, instead of blue or red.
No police or security response.
'Likely due to the whoever kept Conner, Roy, and Robin tied up during the last attack.' There wouldn't be any help coming from that quarter. At least not for a long time.
Kaldur staggered forward, fighting to keep his balance intact. He was lucky to have two people close by, to act as his eyes. They also kept a hand on his arm or wrapped around his waist to help him stand.
They were in the center of a whirlwind, but his mind hadn't let go of that comment about his teeth. Kaldur ran his tongue along them as a test, and felt the points his canines had grown into. They'd grown out a little as well, and he could just pick out a gap growing between the incisors and canines, to better facilitate a strong bite.
He made a mental note to refrain from smiling with his teeth any time soon. Neither of the girls were panicking over them, at least.
"You are... a friend of a friend, if I remember correctly." He blinked his eyes again, and came away with a few less spots in his vision. "And you appear to be dealing with this surprisingly well."
"Hey, you just saw the portable magic flash bang. This isn't the weirdest thing we've run into this week." He could still catch Raquel glancing at him, and took a deep breath as he tried to ease some of the adrenaline out of his muscles. It didn't work, and he knew that there was still an animal edge to his features.
"Don't get me wrong, this still ranks up there. But I think we've gotten pretty good at rolling with the punches. And it looks like we've both got a knack for running into trouble anyway, huh Zee?"
Zatanna's breathing rasped in his ears, strained and heavy. Her footsteps were irregular as well, and she split her efforts between guiding Kaldur along and hanging off his shoulder.
"Still... still kind of recovering from that. I guess yelling out spells takes it out of you."
"Don't worry. We'll have you back on your feet and smashing jerks with fence posts before you know it." Kaldur could just pick out the cocky smile Raquel put on. His eyes were clearing up. True, he could recover quickly, but it wouldn't surprise Kaldur if the hunter was also good at shrugging things off.
"We should-" Kaldur didn't get any further than that, as he heard a whistling sound cut the air. A metal disk sliced above their heads, far too close for comfort. Zatanna gave a yelp as she tried to duck, and Kaldur thought he could see a few stray hairs get clipped off her head.
His heart decided that was a good time to drown his hearing out.
-o-o-o-
"Megan?" Conner could barely hear her name, thanks to his pulse pounding away. There was no telling if she could actually hear his voice, and he didn't have any luck with calling out his other friend's names, either.
He'd tried to go after her or get to Wally when the flare went off. Instead the crowd managed to knock him off balance and send him crashing to the ground, leaving him blinded from the light and completely disoriented.
Furious blinking only did so much for his vision, so his hands picked up the slack and felt around. Inhaling teased his mouth and nose with roasting meat, telling Conner he'd blundered into a food stand in the chaos. As he pulled himself up, his hand grasped and tightened around a glass bottle. Something sloshed around inside, and gave it extra weight.
When he opened his eyes again, Conner picked out some blurry outlines that looked like tent tops, along with a bright fuzzy disk hanging in the sky. It was enough to navigate by, encouraging Conner to take a few steps. Not tripping over anything made him braver, and he kept moving. The bottle of whatever stayed in his hand; not his first choice of weapon, but it felt better to have something in his hands.
Although it would help more if he knew where to go.
"Come with me." His head snapped up hard enough that his teeth clicked together. Conner's thoughts rattled like someone had just sifted their hands through them, and his balance tried to yank itself out from under him. Instead of falling, Conner stumbled towards the sound. Or at least where he thought he'd heard it.
That had almost been like what happened with Megan, during the ambush. He could still feel a low background hum in his head. No words, but a definite feeling to follow... even if it left him feeling off balance and short on temper. If he hadn't needed a lead, he would have shouted for it to get out of his head.
Instead, Conner made himself listen. His hands bunched into fists, anchoring his concentration.
"You're a stubborn one, for such a young wolf. And a glutton for punishment, given how you struggle instead of surrendering. Those scars you gave me took time to heal... but I can always give you some in return." That voice was a good match for the hum in Conner's head, with a pitiless, oily tone that bunched his hands into fists. The sensation helped anchor him, and keep the mental buzz to a background hum.
Conner's teeth showed in a grimace, though the people he picked out, framed against a dark structure, didn't see it.
One of them wore what looked like jeans and a pink shirt he'd seen Megan in. The other was a pale gaunt swatch of color that still managed to pull off intimidating. Maybe it was because Megan shrank back as the figure spoke. Her head was tilted down, and she hadn't caught sight of Conner. The other had his back turned to Conner, giving him a chance to move closer.
"I'd almost say you're more trouble than you're worth... but orders are orders. I can bring you to Queen either whole or with a few broken bones. As long as your mind is intact. Or do you want to cause another spectacle and fight like before?"
The mental noise increased with the man's words, buzzing inside Conner's head like a swarm of angry wasps.
'Simon says. You obey.'
"S-simon?" Megan choked out a name. Conner knew she must have heard the drone as well, when she clapped her hands over her ears. "Stop it-"
One of Conner's footsteps wasn't muffled enough. Megan raised her head, while the other gave a twitch before coiling up.
"Another? Who is-?" He turned right when Conner lunged. His plan was planting a fist square in the guy's face, followed by using that bottle if he had to.
His fist never connected. The figure twisted aside, and the lunge pitched Conner straight past him and into Megan. Conner smashed into her, wincing from the impact and the gasp she made. With that much force he was sure they were both going to tip over. Instead a hard grip grabbed him by the shoulders, points pricking past his shirt and at his skin. Megan's arms shook as she held him up, but her half changed body held.
Simon advanced with a snarl twisting out of his mouth, his nose looking distorted and the cheekbones trying to tear their way out of his face. Something sharp grew out of the tips of his fingers, with a weird glimmer coating it. The points of Megan's claws and her finger pads pushed harder into his shoulders as Megan tried to tug him out of the way. But too slowly; her body twitched, like she was fighting against the change and leaving her movements sluggish.
Conner grit his teeth as Simon's claws sliced towards him, and swung the bottle up with both hands. He hit Simon in the arm and heard the glass smack into flesh with a crackling noise running along the container. It turned the blow a little... but not completely, and those claws whistled as they slashed down.
"CONNER!" Megan wrenched him to one side, twisting on her heel as she spun them around. Her shoulder took his place, and Conner's stomach lurched when he heard cloth and skin part with a wet noise. The sound that tore itself out of Megan's mouth was something between a roar and a sob.
Hearing it pushed something red hot into his brain, and it turned out he was coordinated enough to make another swing. The glass didn't get a fresh collection of cracks this time. It hit Simon full in his half formed muzzle and shattered. Some of the contents splashed into the air and Conner's arms with a spicy smell. The rest of it soaked Simon's face as he lurched back with a screech, thanks to getting barbeque hot sauce up the nose. Conner looked down at the remains of the bottle with a numb feeling taking over his arms. At least it would distract Simon for a second.
"C-Conner...I..." Megan's voice strained against her throat, all roughness and growls that were just barely pushed into words. His head twisted around to look at her, and he saw how her hair looked oddly pale and washed out in the faint light.
"I have to-" Her shoulder wasn't healing up either, the gouges showing up as deep, black lines against her clothing and skin. "G-g-get away."
"Right, right." He switched their places, easing his hands onto her shoulders. It was mostly by feel, with his eyes stuck on the wounds.
Behind them, Conner picked out Simon's breathing change to a deep, guttural snarl that pushed them towards the band stage. He moved as fast as he could, pulling Megan along as they fell under the shadow of the structure. There wasn't a lot to hide under or behind, but it was better than taking their chances with a crazy werewolf out in the open.
He tugged them both around the corner as they leaned against one of the supports. After a second of thought, he yanked himself up and onto the stage. Megan pulled herself up as well, but with a lot of wheezing, panting effort. He ended up reaching for her uninjured shoulder and pulling her in the rest of the way, where she crouched on the floor and caught her breath.
Under the four vertical support beams and cloth draped around, they had more shadows to hide in. With another step and Conner knew he was treading through sticky spilled soda, probably dropped in the rush to evacuate. He hoped that would be enough to mask their scent, at least until Megan could recover.
"You must be burning from all that silver." Simon's voice rasped from somewhere close by, choked with snarls, and probably some leftover sauce stuck in his nose and throat.
"I might not be able to sniff you out, your fever might mute your thoughts, but I WILL find you." Conner felt each of his muscles twitch from those words, and wished for a few more bottles of barbeque sauce.
"Okay, we need a plan. I can tell that this isn't something we can just strong arm our way through, good as that sounds. And I don't get half of what he was saying, but-" Conner kept his voice low, to keep any fine tuned ears from picking up the words. He still expected Megan to be able to hear, and frowned when she didn't answer.
"Megan? What's-?" He forget his question when he turned to look at her. Megan's eyes were fixed on the ground, dulled as she slumped forward. Her hand squeezed at the tear along her shoulder until it went white at the knuckles. When she gasped for more air, her breathing dropped to a rumble, her sides shaking like she was fighting back sobs. Once her mouth dropped open to get more air, he got a glimpse of the sharpened set of teeth, while her eyes glimmered and slowly went from brown to red.
"I-I can't hold onto this." She choked out, as the change wracked her body.
-o-o-o-
She couldn't really hear bones splintering, Artemis told herself. It had to be her imagination. What she wasn't imagining was how deep those teeth sunk into leg muscle, as she stared at the boy. His sunglasses slipped down his nose and showed his eyes, the pupils shrunk to pinpricks from the pain. Before he could scream, the wolf bunched its neck and snapped its head back, ready to maim and tear. The boy was pulled with the motion, shaking like a rag doll.
His arms snapped back and forth, trying to grab something as he was slung through the air. His hands must have hit the knife in his former friend's side, as the wolf froze with a jolt of pain. Those snarling jaws opened with a shriek, and the boy slipped free and got himself flung aside. Artemis didn't see where he landed; her sights stayed on the wolf as she fumbled for a new shot.
Artemis twisted the ammo cylinder and loaded a new arrow into the crossbow, feeling the weight clunk into place before she fired. The wolf yanked its head up at the sound and started to lurch away in an attempt to dodge-
But too slow. Her father's knife did its job, tearing into the creature's muscle and leaving it handicapped. Artemis counted the seconds as it tried to lurch away, before the shot exploded into a net. Weights snapped around the wolf's form and yanked it to the ground as it squirmed helplessly.
Her target had fallen injured side up, so she could see the knife dug into its fur and flesh-
And the blade wasn't in as deep as she remembered.
"You're kidding me." Artemis muttered, staring at the knife half in and half out of the wound. Definitely not dug in as deep as before. "That kid was STILL trying to help?"
The werewolf's only answer was to thrash in her net. The sunglasses kid was completely out of sight as well. Artemis felt her memories yank back as she thought of that tear in his leg.
Her mother's leg had been even worse off, stretched along the ground and missing a lot of pieces. Once the wolf got the limb in its jaws, it had bit in, mangling and tearing, and hadn't let go until her father drove a silver edged knife into its skull. By then, Paula Crock was laid out on the floor, her eyes squeezed shut from how it hurt. Her skin turned into a red mess, and it had all been done by teeth; no chance that there WASN'T an infection. Artemis had held out a tourniquet, already wondering if they could do something to stop the blood flow, keep it from carrying the curse. Her father had snapped at her to not bother, and instead hold the bandages to her mother's mouth. 'Give her something to bite on. She'll need it.' Was all he'd said. And then he'd grabbed another blade, and put it above the bite-
Artemis bit her tongue, dragging herself away from that flash of memory and keeping her eyes on the wolf. It was a monster; she saw it turn on its friend, and who knew if the kid would be okay after what it had done to him.
'Yeah, but only after it got stabbed- Come on, Artemis! Focus.' She snapped at herself, giving the crossbow chamber another twist to reload.
'Arrow to the limb and pin it down, just like Dad taught you. He can't lunge away with a wound like that; you've got him- IT down.' The correction came too late, as her mind tugged at another set of memories. She found herself thinking of sunlight in the morning, a lazy class room and a boy that looked he wouldn't hurt anything outside of a large breakfast.
Or that girl in the woods. Could she still think of her as a monster, too?
Artemis snapped her head back and forth, trying to wrench the memory out of her head. It wasn't important just then; subduing this thing was what mattered.
"So, are you going to go all rabid on me and try to attack, or what?" Stupid to taunt the thing, Artemis knew. But maybe if it lashed back, that would be enough to convince her hands it was okay to pull the trigger. Her words didn't get the wolf to strike at her, though she wasn't sure if it could actually understand them.
'One test.' She sighed out between her teeth at the thought, and locked her gaze on those green eyes. 'Before you do anything stupid, like the kid said.'
"Wally?" She tried, and was rewarded with his lips curling and his face scrunching up, looking almost human with the concentration knitted across his muzzle.
"Wally." The name snapped out, and the animal almost flinched in response.
'Hunting isn't looking like it's a good lifestyle choice for you after all, seeing how you abandon all common sense.' A voice chided her.
She ignored it, edging forward. The wolf's lips writhed, as it twitched its head back and forth from hearing the name. With it confused, she could make her move. She put her hand out, and let it rest on the leg for a split second, feeling the fur underneath.
The knife glimmered at her. Artemis hooked her fingers around it, and gave a yank before scrambling back with the blade in her hand. A yelp reached her ears and the wolf jolted and strained against the net. At least she had a little more silver on hand. But she didn't know yet if she'd need it, watching and waiting to see what happened next.
-o-o-o-
Tumbling through the air wasn't unusual for Robin. Not being able to use his leg, however, was well outside of his comfort zone. The air cut at his ears, while the points sunk into his leg stung.
Both those sensations cut out when he hit the ground. Robin wondered if he dug a furrow in the dirt, given how hard the impact was, and how far he rolled. It took his lungs a few seconds to figure out how to stop hurting and start breathing, after coming to a stop.
It also took his brain a heartbeat to get oxygen into it, and start working in jolts and starts. 'Not dead. Hurts a lot. Glasses got knocked loose too.' He pushed at them so they were half on his nose instead of dangling off his face. 'Should probably get back to those two before they do something else they'd regret.'
If he could just figure out where they went.
'Where did I end up landing?' Somewhere between tents, judging by how tight those white walls were around him.
'Up.' He ordered his legs, trying to move them. 'Up would be a really, really smart move right now.' His limbs didn't listen to him outside of giving a feeble kick, and his thoughts still felt weirdly muggy and slow. He couldn't even form much of a plan outside of 'stand up-'
But once a hand seized him around the shoulder, that plan became null. It turned out he didn't need to use his own legs to stand up, as the hand yanked him upright and pulled him out of tents. He got hauled into an open space on the other side of the stands. No sign of the fight, but it was better than being boxed in.
"Thanks," He mumbled, shaking his head to try and clear it. The hand must have been Kaldur's; he'd somehow found Robin, gotten him out of the fight-
"Oh, don't thank me YET, half-pint." That was when Robin remembered that Kaldur didn't have silver-blond fur, when he transformed. His voice also never sounded that smug. Robin's brain concluded it didn't have to be Kaldur, or even someone helping him. It was just as likely the hand on his shoulder had just dragged him out of sight, where Wally or the huntress couldn't spot him or save him.
"Bad luck for you, kid." Cameron had no pity in his voice, and Robin knew there wasn't any mercy in him, either. Not with how pitiless his eyes were, as that clawed hand tightened around his shoulder and dug new points into his skin. Cameron eyed his wounds, looking ready to finish what Wally had started.
"Think you can dodge out of the way, this time?"
As an answer, Robin felt his fingers grasp at a compartment in his belt. A cylinder slipped into his fingers, and he pushed his sunglasses back up as he threw it in Cam's face. The dark glass over Robin's eyes masked the flare that sprang up. He took a deep breath and covered his mouth to avoid the smoke choking the air. His eyes stung, but judging by the wheezes, Cameron had it worse.
The hand on his shoulder went slack, and Robin yanked up his good leg. His foot slammed square into Cameron's chest, and he launched backwards. Robin's landing wasn't all that graceful, but at least he didn't pitch over again.
Through the smoke, he picked out Cameron's outline doubled over and fighting for breath as he hacked and coughed. The werewolf gave himself a shake, before standing upright. With a little squinting, and pulling his sunglasses off all the way, Robin picked out two more forms falling in behind Cameron.
Tuppence and Tommy both, already straining at the seems and looking half transformed as they fanned out to block his path back to the others. A rumble in the air replaced Cameron's coughs, heralding a change for him, too.
Robin turned and ran, as fast as the injured leg would allow.
-o-o-o-
Zatanna wrenched her head around to follow the disk, while Raquel twisted forward to figure out where it came from. Kaldur mirrored Raquel, but too slowly. His body still felt battered, and it and his eyes couldn't focus fast enough to do anything about the figure that dropped in front of them.
A line moved down in a diagonal swipe across Kaldur's chest, parting fabric and skin. Kaldur stumbled away from it a heartbeat before the line burned along his flesh.
"H-hey!" Raquel put a hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him away as Kaldur looked up with blurry eyes. He was just in time to see a boot smash into his chest, sending him careening into Raquel and Zatanna both and knocking them all to the ground in a pile.
That same boot thudded into his chest as Kaldur wheezed for breath, pressing him into the girls and keeping them all locked to the ground.
"More trouble than you're worth," the hunter rasped as he grabbed for something at his side. Binds maybe, or something to finish the job. Kaldur couldn't tell, as the slash across his chest flared again and left his vision blurred and seeing double.
'Silver.' Was the clearest thought he could manage, as he stared up. The hunter's figure blurred out completely, as the blood rushed to Kaldur's head.
In his mind's eye he was pinned again, not by the hunter, but by a figure just as heavy set. It wasn't blood pounding in his ears then, but the roar of waves against a distant beach and slapping against the side of a hull. The fairgrounds around him faded out, the whites replaced with gray paint and cloth with welded and bolted metal, forming into a hazy image of a ship.
One he'd seen before, along with his other, old classmates and friends. It had been a rare class trip onto one of the navy ships that frequented San Diego... and a small dare put forward by Garth to see if they could sneak away, with Tula coming along to roll her eyes at them.
What they'd found wasn't something to photograph and boast about at the dorms.
"Kaldur-!" Raquel hissed out, and yanked his thoughts back. The hunter snapped back into focus, the images of San Diego faded out... and he still had the issue of being pinned down. He wheezed and tried to push that foot off, but it was solid as rock on his chest. The world started to spin again in slow, dizzying circles-
Right before snapping back into place as something leapt into view and smashed into the hunter with a snarl. He went down before he had time to yell, the air filling with the sound of body armor getting shredded.
'Another wolf-?'
Or something that LOOKED like a wolf, if an animal decided to walk on two legs and grow taloned hands. It hunched over the hunter, swiping with its claws.
"Wally?' The name stuck on his tongue, not sounding right for whatever he was looking at. It was too large for a young wolf, and had a lean, savage edge that didn't look like it belonged to the League. Kaldur tried to get a better look, but just like that it was gone, leaping free before the hunter could strike back. A blur of sable melted back into the shadows cast by the stalls before Kaldur could shout anything.
"Wh-what was that?" Kaldur shook his head back as he rolled off the two. Zatanna didn't press the question, instead staring over his shoulder as she stood up. "Yeah, I didn't get a good look at it either. But the gym teacher from hell isn't on top of us, at least... I think that thing gave him a lot more to think about."
"Then... we should go-"
A scream tore across the fair grounds, burrowing into their ears as it twisted into something that could have been a howl. Kaldur yanked his head toward the shriek, his eyes narrowing.
"We need to go that way." Was all he said, before trying a step forward. He didn't get far before the others caught up with him.
"You know, common sense usually suggests running AWAY from sounds like that." Raquel commented. Despite her words, she still moved in the right direction, supporting Kaldur with her shoulder. "Though I guess this isn't what you'd call a common situation."
"Not... precisely. But I am attempting to get it under control."
"Okay. You mind if I ask how, exactly?" Raquel kept her voice low, rushing them away from the hunter before he got his feet back. "Just give us a basic outline of the plan, maybe?"
"I think," Kaldur kept his eyes fixed at the food stalls, as they made an awkward dash for them and tried to ignore the stinging running across his chest. "What we might find there should serve as a good distraction for the hunter on our trail. And also-"
He winced as a particularly sharp jolt ran up his body. "Just out of experience, I suspect we'll find one of my friends there, as well."
-o-o-o-
'Okay. So this could be worse,' Robin thought as he limped along, crouched low.
He wasn't writhing around the floor, screaming from pain as his body tried to twist and break itself apart; Bruce told him that could happen to people with a fresh bite. But so far his body stayed stable, he had at least three limbs working, and finally had clear thoughts despite all that blood pounding in his head.
'Not hopelessly up a creek... but I sure wouldn't mind a paddle right about now. Or a working leg.' Robin looked down at where those teeth had sunk in. He couldn't pick the punctures out from sight alone, with the black fabric of the jeans. But he could feel blood seeping out, and he was pretty sure there was some sweat soaking the fabric and making his skin extra clammy. Putting weight on it was a no go; the pain that lanced through his leg and brain made that perfectly clear. No sudden sprinting for him, or much in the way of gymnastics.
'So what do I have to work with?' There was a sizzling sound in the air, and a smell of cooking meat, which told him that he'd blundered his way to the food stands. There were even a few game booths close by. 'But no craft stands promoting silver items. Guess I can't be THAT lucky.'
"Can smell your blood, Grayson." Cameron's voice rasped from somewhere nearby, and Robin could just imagine him putting on several pounds of muscle and hair as he spoke. "Won't be long until I find you, and rip your smart mouthed little head off that twiggy neck."
'Yeah, because you did that so well LAST time.' That and a dozen other remarks sprang to mind, and Robin kept them all locked behind his teeth. No point making his hiding time even shorter by giving Cam another trail to follow. Robin collapsed against one of the stands and put his back flat up against it, minimizing his silhouette.
Cameron and the Terrors weren't bothering with silence, stomping through the grass and pavement. Something shattered, and only willpower and his leg kept Robin from jumping up. He could just picture one of the Twins smashing up one of the tents, trying to spook him out of hiding.
Instead of doing that, he crept inside the food stand. The oil from whatever had been cooking helped mask his scent. This cat and mouse game wasn't going to last forever, though.
'If I ever survive this, I can write a definitive guide on how to escape a pack of angry werewolves.' He told himself. 'First thing... don't pack just ONE smoke bomb in the utility belt.' He was starting to wish that silver was on the list as well, even if it made him look as paranoid as Bruce.
He did have Archer Girl somewhere close by, though. He just needed to figure out how to get her over here and make the most of all those weapons.
'Lot of noise.' He decided. 'I'd sooner have her running to this collection of howls than any of my friends. ' He grit his teeth, and forced himself to stand into a crouch. He shoved his elbows on the table to help take the weight off his leg. A small bladed boomerang found its way out of the belt and into his hand, and he flexed his wrist to prepare for a throw.
...Except he'd lost track of the sounds while he was scrambling for cover.
'Where did they go?' He thought between chewing himself out for losing the target. The pack must have gone into a true stalking hunt now, giving up on scaring him out. He couldn't hear them on foot-
Something wheezed in low heavy pants, like a throat still trying to clear the last bits of smoke out while it snuffled around for his scent. Robin's head twitched up when he realized sound wasn't coming from the ground, but somewhere above him. Overhead was an outline on the canvas, four feet spread across to help it balance on the tent roof. From the wiry shape, it must have been Cameron. He was the only one light enough to make it up there, and he was still straining the tent canvas.
Robin could make that work in his favor. The bladed disc changed its target, flying straight up into the fabric and parting it with a loud tear. The hole started as a thin scratch, but widened in an instant thanks to the extra weight. Cameron plunged down through it with a yelp, as Robin rolled away and left him to hit the ground.
That didn't knock the air out of Cameron for long. He lurched back up with a snarl as Robin staggered back. The crash had been loud, but he wasn't sure if it was enough.
His hand splayed out on the food stand for balance, and he felt his fingers hook around something. It had a hard metal bite to it, as well as a sharp heat against his skin.
Cameron rushed him, too fast to think of anything better. Robin grabbed the rim of whatever was at his fingers, bit back a hiss from the heat, and wrenched it up at Cameron's face. He heard a sloshing sound a second later, and saw a container full of hot cooking oil slam into Cameron.
That outraged howl was more than enough to signal where he was, Robin decided as he vaulted over the table. It also meant Cameron would be busy pawing at his face and regenerating from the attack.
'Actually,' he winced as he jostled his leg. 'Regeneration doesn't sound so bad right now.' But he'd have to go without. And worry about dodging two more werewolves that would also be drawn to the sound.
-o-o-o-
Megan's balance gave out, throwing her to floor as her body convulsed. The traces of silver in her shoulder burned, and she could feel the moon above the stage, even if she couldn't see it.
That woman, Queen, was right; to add insult to injury it wasn't even a full moon she was changing under. Megan had just enough room around the bile rising in her throat to feel indignant over that. This wasn't how things went with Wendy the Werewolf Stalker; those wolves NEVER lost themselves on anything but the night of a full moon.
That didn't convince her teeth to go blunt, or her nails to go dull. Megan shuddered from her spot on the wood and spilled soda, feeling it soak the white growing over her body.
Nothing from television gave her any idea of what to do. She couldn't find a situation to compare herself to. Or at least not favorably. Not like a heroine, but a lot like the monsters she fought. Her body was twisting into a sharp match for that, shaking as it jolted between human and animal. Her clothing turned into a mess of split seams and fabric that hung loosely around her body.
She was exposed. Raw. Hideous. Her shoulder ached so much, and her blood and brain both felt like they were on fire. She wanted to touch a hand to the wound again to try and staunch it-
For a second it felt like the wound had jumped across her body, resting on her collarbone again. Things felt blurry, almost unreal as her mind decided not to stay anchored in the present.
It drifted backwards, to a different time... even though she was still bleeding, back then.
She'd been limping across the family farm grounds, telling herself how this wasn't supposed to be real. She touched her fingers to her collar bone, only for them to come away with a fresh red coating. Nicks along her legs added to the red trickling down her skin.
This couldn't be real. Those things that had torn into her didn't exist outside of TV.
She wanted to stop bleeding and step through the door of her home like this was a normal evening of feeding animals. Shut the door on anything lurking outside. Instead she went around back. Her window was open, and she could slip through it, even with a torn shoulder.
Megan tumbled through, taking her hand away to help brace herself. Her fingers were bloody, but the ache in her collar bone had subsided. It almost looked healed-
"Megan? Dinner!"
"MEGAN!" Conner's voice broke through the fever for an instant. She almost wished it hadn't, as she felt her body twist.
"Megan, come on. Don't slip away like that." She still knew what words meant. That was the worst; she KNEW that name belonged to her, even while she looked like this; her body wasn't through with the changes, even though it had pushed her into a twisted, hulking shape. Her arms and legs were still vaguely human, from the way they twitched. The rest of her was still trying to slip into a wolf's shape, starting with her face.
A face moved between the stage roof and her eyes. Conner still hadn't run away. He should have, and she wanted to scream that at him... but her mouth was stretching into a shape that didn't allow for words.
"Conner, don't stay here. You're not going to make it out if you stay with monsters... people get hurt." She could see her mother, outlined in the door light, hanging onto the ruins of her arm. Her little brother was somewhere nearby, also nursing tears in his skin.
"Megan... it's okay. It won't happen." Her ears pricked forward from where they'd stretched out into triangles and been laid back against her skull.
Her fingers were swollen and twisted. Thickened into near paws so her claws would have something to anchor themselves to. But Conner figured out how to weave his fingers between them, and make their hands fit together. He squeezed his fingers around her hand, tightening his grip and giving her something to focus on. Five warm points, just like that night at the lakes.
"It's okay. I've got you."
The way he was looking at her, he didn't care about the snout her face was pushed into. Conner stayed locked on her eyes, and there was something steadying in that gaze. Something that she could hold onto, as her body lurched into the new half and half shape with one last shudder.
She could feel all the changes; everything from the way her feet and hands had been stretched into paws, to the sudden sharpness the world had taken on from her new senses. Her fur was on end, running along her body-
And her hand still had something touching it.
"Hwwhy-" Her voice went ragged.
"Why?" She thought instead. "Why haven't you left?"
"You'd be alone." Conner answered. "Don't want that to happen."
He moved his fingers over her stubby ones, tracing the edges of her claws without any worry.
"I've got you," he said again, before a low groan of metal straining creaked into her ears. Something was clawing its way across the metal beams crisscrossing above the stage.
"Found you." The growl rippled into her ears and mind. Followed by something dropping down from the rafters of the stage. It smashed into the ground, inches away from the ball she'd been curled into. Conner couldn't even turn, before solid force caught them across the shoulders. She lost track of where he went, as a familiar lance of pain tore across her flesh. Those claws found her again, tearing her off the ground.
She flew a foot, maybe two before she smashed into a beam. The steel dug into her shoulder as she sunk down. Overhead the entire structure groaned, and the air in her lungs moved out in a wheeze that echoed it.
She hit the stage floor as the rest of the air left her, and her limbs all went slack.
Her eyes rolled upwards. The moon was back, shining through the new arrangement of the stage rafters and the tears in the canvas. It cast crisscrossing black patterns over her fur, and a similar pale form that took up the center of the stage. The monster stood on two legs, with a pale sheen in its fur. Different from her own, and unchanged since the first night she saw a werewolf.
Simon only gave her half his attention, relying on the impact to keep her down. Instead he looked at Conner, showing his teeth. He hadn't forgotten that attack from before, judging by the angry rumble in his throat. He shifted his shoulders, and drove his other hand down on Conner, spearing through his shoulder before lifting him up.
Conner's scream left her frozen, staring as he hung suspended in the moonlight.
