The Stink of Prey
Cord's hands were trembling involuntarily as he gripped the steering wheel of his Mustang tight. The group's pet vampire hunter was probably right pissed at him for dropping her off at the door and not sticking around to protect her or whatever. But he could still smell her throughout the car, that uniquely human stink, even with the whip of the wind coming from the open window. Irina thought she was a hunter...but she would always be prey to him.
He could feel the hunger pulsing throughout like the heartbeat he no longer had. She may have thought he was being rude dumping her like that. But he was saving her life. Not because, he thought, that he cared about her. But draining her down would have been a waste. The woman was injured near to death; she would have barely slaked the deep thirst he had worked up fighting Eliza. And besides, she was useful, at least for a little while. And if you were missing a hammer, you damn well didn't slam the nail in with your table saw.
The car slid into the entrance of the junkyard, gravel and dust spraying as Cord brought the car to a screeching halt. He got out, slamming the door shut with a loud bang, his muscles still flaring with the blood he had rushed to them in the fight. The fight that I'm always the one to finish. That's what I'm good for - killing other people's problems.
He whistled loudly for his boys. "Bobby Joe, Travelling Jack, come!" His junkyard dogs...his pack trotted up to him at full speed, sensing in him what was about to come. His bloodlust was almost dripping off him like sweat, and his boys could smell it - they were growling in a low rumble, their teeth in full display.
"Boys, hunt!" he said in a low growl of his own as he used some of the last bit of his blood to start his change, the hands and arms slowly changing into paws and legs, skin changing over to fur in that wonderfully painful shift that reminded him he wasn't completely dead yet. The dogs had already started to race out into the woods ahead of him, knowing that he would be bounding past them soon, their alpha leading them on the most primal of hunts. The wind racing against his fur, the long chase, the fear in the air as the prey attempted to escape and then finally ripping them from limb to limb.
Then the change was complete and there were no more thoughts as the Beast took over and with a few powerful strides, Cord raced ahead of his pack, finally away from all the politics and people, into the woods where he truly belonged.
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