Bring On The Night by Sonya Clark Page A

as much affect as a child slapping at a football player. Jessie sent the werewolf skidding across the room, planting herself between it and where Brandon had slumped to the floor. Lenny and Rowdy dragged him behind a pew.
    The vampire and the wolf faced each other for a long moment, eyes meeting in appraisal. The creature looked like a wolf, yet not. Thick black fur covered its body, its eyes glowing a bright blue. The wolf gave a threatening snarl and ran at Jessie, its powerful legs sending it across the floor in seconds: too powerful, too fast. At the last second, the moment the wolf should have been slamming into her, she dropped and flattened to the floor, the wolf sailing over her and crashing into the altar. Dazed, it stayed down long enough for Kirkbride to aim at its head and pull the trigger. A flash of movement came between the wolf and the shotgun, the blast slamming into the chest of a dark-clad man, sending him toppling backward against the wolf. They fell tangled together in a bloody heap on the floor, a shrieking howl of grief ripping from the wolf’s throat.
    Kirkbride lowered the shotgun, staring at the man in horror. He turned to Jessie. “I didn’t see him.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
    “He’s a vampire,” she said, her eyes on the two monsters. The wolf, growling and mewling, began to quiver. Its thick black fur began to slide into its flesh like needles, muscles contorting, stretching, collapsing and reforming. At the end of it the wolf’s body was replaced by that of a woman, her nakedness barely hidden by the vampire she cradled in her arms. She murmured to him, a susurrus of comfort.
    Jessie blinked, not sure she could trust what she was seeing. She pointed at the couple on the floor, her hand waving indistinctly. “Wh-what the freaking hell?” she stammered.
    Brandon rose from behind the pew, walking stiffly, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He stood between Kirkbride and Jessie, gawking unabashedly at the injured vampire and the naked werewolf.
    Leaning slightly toward Jessie, Brandon said in a helpful tone, “Looks to me like they’re a couple.”
    “A couple of what?” Jessie said, her lip curled. She snapped her fingers. “Hey, Lassie. Tell Timmy to wake up. We need to talk.”
    The wolf glared at them, hate flashing in her eyes as she growled low and menacing. Kirkbride raised his shotgun while Brandon took a discrete step back. Jessie rolled her eyes, unimpressed. She moved closer and squatted, elbows on her knees. She raised one eyebrow and said, “Wake. Him. Up.”
    “He’s weak,” the wolf snapped. “He was poisoned, and he hasn’t regained his full strength yet.”
    “Vampires can be poisoned?” Kirkbride asked.
    Jessie ignored him. The wolf met her eyes, fury battling with desperation. She opened her mouth to speak but the vampire in her arms began to stir. “Baby,” she cooed to him, running her fingers across his face. “Can you hear me, baby?” She clutched at him tighter, her long black hair spilling over them, sticking in the blood drying on his chest. She raised her head to face Jessie, pleading in her face. “He needs blood!”
    Kirkbride rushed forward, bringing his shotgun down past Jessie’s shoulder. “No way are we feeding him.”
    Jessie pushed the barrel away from her and stood. “Why don’t you keep your big phallic weapon out of my face? And no, we’re not feeding him.”
    Kirkbride lowered the shotgun and gave her an embarrassed look. Jessie held his gaze for a moment before dropping her eyes back to the werewolf. “If you want him fed, you’re going to have to take care of it yourself.”
    The werewolf snarled, glancing from Jessie to Kirkbride and the others, lingering on Brandon. He backed away farther, shaking his head in alarm. “Hell no. Stop looking at me like I’m today’s special.”
    Jessie stepped in front of him. “He’s not on the menu, Precious.”
    The injured vampire cried out softly, reaching for the