They hadn't meant to stop in Newark. However, they were trying to be inconspicuous as they traveled so they had taken a less direct route, one that increased the time they spent driving but would keep anyone from following. Valentine couldn't remember the exact reason they had ended up in this town, some valuable needed thing he supposed: gas, food for the human… So here they were, in a budget hotel, in the middle of Newark, NJ.

Looking around when he had first gotten out of the RV to stretch his legs, Valentine couldn't help but feel something was off. This place was so quiet, even for a city at night. There were no sirens. There were no dogs barking. It put him on edge. He started to walk the perimeter of the parking lot; eyes open for anyone who might be watching him. He couldn't see them but he knew they were here. Their scent was on the wind, the unmistakable signs of werewolves.

That was when he had informed Chip that they'd be staying. Valentine wasn't about to try flushing them out. It was direct but too dangerous since the bastards liked to travel in packs. Also, there was the Masquerade to consider and fighting werewolves in the middle of a city was definitely not a good way to keep humans from noticing. The three days they'd been here had been enough for Chip to gather some decent Intel. Valentine had his reservations about working with the boy at first. He wasn't much use in a fight but he was smart, knew his way around a computer, and if he didn't know something then he knew who to contact for the information he needed. Overall, he was pretty damn useful to have around.

"What do we have?" Valentine sat at the small table in their hotel room, cleaning his guns while Chip filled him in on what he needed to know.

Chip pushed up his glasses and cleared his throat. "There's definitely some activity here, it's inconclusive though. Listening to the police scanner, I've been picking up calls from around Essex County about shootings and stabbings. It's higher than average; the kind of stuff you'd expect to hear in Chicago not in Jersey. The dogs might be trying to disguise their kills, or maybe all the violence is a human reaction to their presence."

"Let's hope not." Valentine said, wiping down the barrel of his 9mm glock. "Any thing solid: maulings, livestock kills?

Chip smiled nervously, "T-there have been reports…"

Valentine glanced up, cocking an eyebrow at that, "Yes?"

"Bears, Black Bears to be precise. There are an unusually high number of incidents in this state."

"Is it possible that the humans here are seeing something big, viscous and furry and making assumptions?"

"Yes, very possible." Chip spread out a map on the bed. Valentine put down his gun and, wiping his hands with a hotel towel, walked over to take a look. "My contact tells me that they, the werewolves I mean, like to live in large groups, usually centered on some sort of sacred ground. This area here," Chip pointed to a section of green on the map, "is Ringwood State Park and is sacred to Native Americans. It would be a very likely location and it's only about an hour drive from here."

Valentine frowned as he looked at the map and shook his head, "You're probably right but look at the size of it. It's got to be at least 500 acres. There's no telling how many are out there. We could easily be overwhelmed…too many variables to plan a decent attack. What about this city? Do we know how they're getting in?"

Chip shrugged. "There are a few routes they could take but that is assuming that they even use the roads."

Valentine looked over the map and something strange caught his eye. He pointed, "This! Do we know anything about this area?" Chip looked at the road to which his master was pointing, "Shades of Death Road? Yes, there are lots of stories and local legends of paranormal activity: ghosts, strange lights etc. Basically the kind of place you wouldn't want to be at night."

Valentine snatched up the map, holding it close to his face. He began to pace with excitement, "It just so happens to lie about midway between their place and this town…" Valentine laughed. "Yeah, that's where we go."

The drive along Shades of Death Road makes one believe that it lived up to the name. The area was heavily wooded. Even driving down it's winding course during the day, there was hardly any sunlight filtering through the thickly forested canopy.

Chip drove along at a leisurely pace just below the speed limit, trying not to let his imagination run away with him. He had done some research on this place, turning up a plethora of ghost stories and strange happenings. One of the local theories about the origins of the name involved highwaymen from days long passed, thieves who'd ambush unfortunate travelers and didn't let anyone live who could recognize them.

This place could easily hide several dozen and he'd never know. How many of their spirits lingered here still, unable to let go of their earthly habits? Worse yet, there could be filthy, mongrel dogs hiding among the trees, a whole pack could easily conceal themselves here.

"The forest has eyes," as Valentine liked to say. Whenever you're out in the woods, there's bound to be something out there watching you that you can't see. It was a principal that made Chip more cautious outside of the familiarity of cities. It was also a directive that had saved their lives before. It was for this reason that Chip was driving slower than usual, trying to appear to any onlookers as a tourist driving in unfamiliar territory getting ready to stop at a moment's notice to take pictures.

It was his job to scout this area, find a good location. He noticed a clearing where a few vehicles were parked and he pulled in, maneuvering the RV with ease and put it into park as well. There was a lake here, the mists rising off gently as though posing for the picture-taking tourists. Once he had shut off the engine, he checked his map. This must be Ghost Lake, he thought.

He rolled down his window and spent a few moments watching the curling tendrils of fog, reaching up out of the water as though grasping the air. Intangible hands were rising up, clutching desperately, in an attempt to find purchase to pull themselves out. A chill ran through him that had nothing to do with the cool, gentle breezes that drifted off the lake. Trying to shake the eerie feeling that had crept upon him, he subtly listened to the conversations of the tourists around him.

Amidst the buzz of conversations and insects, a couple with a sleeping infant mentioned that this area was part of Jenny Jump State Park which Chip verified on his map. Meanwhile, a trio of young men was talking excitedly about the trails in this park.

"Did you ever head up to the Fairy Hole?"

"No, what is it?"

"It's a cave." The landmark they spoke of wasn't on his map so Chip listened more intently.

"Yeah, the cave has, like, all these Native American cave drawings and stuff. It's so weird."

A cave would be a likely place for werewolves to hide in the woods, Chip thought. Not only would it protect from the elements but it would provide cover and be easy to defend in case on an attack. Valentine would definitely want to know where this cave was. Moving about the RV quickly, he tucked away a 45 mm handgun at the small of his back, hiding it under his shirt. He gathered up his courage and his map then headed outside to talk to the guys.

Taylor wiped his brow, leaning on a pitchfork. He'd spent the better part of the chilly February morning tending to the livestock that were confined to the barn for the most part until the cold weather subsided. It had been exhausting work, carrying bundles of hay to feed the animals and bundles of straw to replace their bedding but, still, it had been strangely satisfying.

That was why he'd come back here to his family's farm in Des Moines, to build a peaceful life. After fighting in the war, he was sure he'd seen the worst of man, the darkest part of humanity's soul. Homo homini lupus est, as the saying went. Man is a wolf to man. He'd seen enough violence in his twenty-six years and wanted nothing more than to live simply but well. So that's what he'd done.

He returned the pitchfork to it's place on the wall as he exited the barn. After closing the barn door and making sure it was secure, he starting heading back to the farmhouse. The brisk air was starting to warm slightly, at least in comparison to the cold that had tempted him to stay in his bed, warmed by his dogs, when he had woken at dawn. He stopped at the water pump to wash up and take a small drink in his cupped hands.

He liked the farmhouse this time of year, lots of relatives stopped by amidst preparation for spring on their own farms. The house was full, the family gathering to celebrate his little sister Irene's birthday later this week. Taylor already had her gift, a hand-stitched doll made by none other than the beautiful Miranda Jenkins.

Taylor smiled. Miranda was a gentle soul, lovely and kind. They had met at a country social shortly after he'd returned home and right off he'd admired her greatly. Whether she was sewing, making preserves or cooking one of her delicious Sunday dinners, there was nothing she didn't do gracefully and flawlessly. She was perfect, the embodiment of everything for which he'd been fighting in the war and his little slice of heaven.

He had asked her to marry him, already having attained her father's blessing, and, wonder of wonders, she'd said yes! Tomorrow he would announce before the entire Benson family that the two of them were getting married. Tomorrow was the right time. What better day to make such an announcement than Valentine's Day?

The moon was full as Valentine crept along the trail warily; sword in hand, following the directions Chip had given him. If the men had been telling the truth when they directed Chip then the location they spoke of would be a good place to investigate. It was someplace out of the way but still close to the roads, very likely the dogs would come here.

If any were here, he would find a way to eradicate them. It was that simple. The job needed to be done and he was more than happy to do it. Someone needed to keep those ferocious things from killing and destroying and he was strong enough to take down one or two. If there were any more than that, he'd sorely regret not bringing Elia in on this mission. She was going to chew him out as it was considering that he was already days late for their rendezvous.

He tracked slowly along, looking for signs of his quarry as he moved. His eyes scanned the trees for claw marks or the signs of movement and the ground for paw prints, a tuft of fur clinging to a bush, even droppings but so far he'd found nothing but the footprints of humans, already hours old. Valentine frowned.

The forest was still buzzing with insects and the occasional hoot of an owl, the scuttling of tiny creatures fleeing from the vampire's approach… or the owl's. Valentine paused occasionally, still-stalking as he went. Looking around, smelling the air, to see if there were any of the creatures around. He didn't feel like he was being watched but that didn't mean he wasn't. Satisfied that there was no threat, he would continue.

Shortly, he came upon the cave, the Fairy Hole, as it had been called. It was still several yards away. He lightly touched the device in his ear.

"Chip, can you hear me?"

"Picking you up loud and clear, looks like the radio is working." Chip said, his transmission crackling slightly given that he was about a mile away.

"Yeah, I'm at the cave, about to enter, see if I can find anything or maybe set up in this general area. How are things looking from your end?"

"Negative. No cars have driven by since we arrived. The motion sensors haven't gone off. Scanners aren't picking up anything on heat or night vision in this area. If anyone's noticed the RV's presence here then they must not care."

"All right, maintain radio silence unless absolutely necessary. I'll contact you if I need to."

"Got it," Chip replied but there was no click signaling that he'd disconnected so he was still listening. Fine, Valentine thought, an extra set of ears couldn't hurt.

He stepped up to the wide entrance, the air smelled stale, old, and a tinge of something unidentifiable lingered in the space. He didn't hear any movement coming from the cave so he stepped cautiously inside, walking sideways, his back pressed up against the cave wall to prevent anyone from sneaking up behind him.

After a few steps, his felt something crunch under his boots. He stopped and, taking a careful step back, picked up the object. It appeared to be a shard of rock but it was thin, smooth and had a definite curve to it. It was unnatural for an area that wasn't a riverbed so Valentine assumed it must be a broken piece of pottery, a remnant of the Native Americans that had once inhabited this place.

He gripped his sword tightly as he crept along, his footfalls barely making sound, his senses alert for the least sign of danger. He heard something else grind under his boot but this wasn't large like the pottery had been. It sounded more like shattered glass. Valentine crouched low, looking around for a bottle or another sign of tourist debris but there was none, just this small circle of shattered crystal.

It was then that Valentine heard a low growl emanating from in front of him. He looked up, the creature's huge form mostly cloaked by shadow. He heard static in his ear and realized he'd just lost radio signal.

"Oh, shit."

"My fairy lord, this must be done with haste.

For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,

And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger,

At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,

Troop home to churchyards. Damnéd spirits all,

That in crossways and floods have burial,

Already to their wormy beds are gone.

For fear lest day should look their shames upon,

They willfully themselves exile from light

And must for aye consort with black-browed night."

"Charles,"

A dulcet voice cut clear across his thoughts, breaking the dreamlike spell the rhyming verse had woven.

"Charles! Are you listening to me?"

Charles' head snapped up and he looked right into beautiful, scolding eyes, her lips pouting slightly, the look she gave him when she was starting to get annoyed with him. Thankfully, it was a look she gave him rarely but it's presence gave him pause to worry.

What did I do?

"Uh… come again?" Charles asked sheepishly, doing his best to look innocent.

She set the book down gently beside her, "You weren't listening to me, were you?"

No, he hadn't been. He'd been too distracted by the way the sunlight dappled through the leaves of the trees they sat under, their special spot, and onto her flawless body. The bright specks warred with the shadows and seemed to dance on her pale skin as though inviting him to touch.

But now he'd been caught and it was time to get back into her good graces. He did so by falling into a familiar routine;

"You're beautiful," he smiled at her.

She blushed, ducking her head so that her hair fell gracefully around her face to hide her reddening cheeks. "Not funny, Charles." She said, trying, and failing, to hide her warm smile.

"Not a joke, Catherine." His eyes told of his seriousness, despite his playful tone and wide grin.

She schooled her features back into seriousness, "Neither is flunking. We had a deal, remember? I tutor you in English and you tutor me in computer science."

He didn't have the heart to tell her that he didn't really need the help. He just wanted to spend more time with her .It made him feel good just being around her. Chip smirked, pushing up his glasses, "Well, I held up my end of the bargain."

"That's because when you were explaining, I paid attention to you." Her practiced pout showed itself again.

Chip sighed, doing his best to look remorseful, "Okay. I'm sorry." Leaning forward, he grinned mischievously. "Kiss me and I'll pay attention again."

Catherine held up a slender finger, "Just one?"

He nodded in agreement, getting closer to her, "Just one."

She moved further, inching closer, tilting her head as she did. He did likewise, closing his eyes…

…only to feel a quick peck to the tip of his nose. He opened his eyes to see her backing away quickly and giggling. "That's one!"

He smiled despite himself, loving the way her face lit up like that, because of him, just for him. "That's one." He acknowledged. She could best him any day, he thought happily. How did she do it? Even when she tricked him, she still made him feel like he was winning. He lay down in the grass, resting his head on her lap.

Dutifully, she retrieved her book with one hand, her other hand running through his hair affectionately, and began again.

"But we are creatures of another sort…"

Chip sat within the confines of his RV, attentively watching his computer screens for any signs his equipment might be picking up. Everything was eerily quiet here. He was starting to think that all those reports he'd read might really have been about Black Bears.

Chip frowned at that, shifting in this bulky armor, a precautionary measure. He was hoping that he would get the chance to help Valentine rid the world of some of these monsters. Even if they killed just one, it would make the world a better place. They were doing something good. They were exterminating these things so no one else would have to feel the loss that he'd felt. Chip tried to shake off the familiar ache in his chest that crept up upon him with those thoughts.

Deftly his hands flew over the keys, a few quick strokes and he was going over the data again, giving himself a distraction and his eyes a brief respite from watching the footage of the unmoving forest outside. He thought back to how he'd gotten involved in this. It was a strange series of events that had brought him to hunting werewolves, a stranger series still that had brought him into the service of a vampire.

The click in his earpiece brought him out of his contemplation and made him fully alert. There may be action ahead, he thought. Valentine's voice filtered though the transmission, filling him with a sense of ease.

"Chip, can you hear me?"

"Picking you up loud and clear, looks like the radio is working." Chip replied. He hadn't been sure if the radio would function properly. Out in the middle of nowhere like this he could barely get a signal, let alone bounce it a few times to keep the line secure but he had managed it.

"Yeah, I'm at the cave, about to enter, see if I can find anything or maybe set up in this general area. How are things looking from your end?" Valentine's voice was even, professional.

"Negative. No cars have driven by since we arrived. The motion sensors haven't gone off. Scanners aren't picking up anything on heat or night vision in this area. If anyone's noticed the RV's presence here then they must not care."

There was a moment's silence as Valentine was taking in this information most likely formulating his next move based on Chip's recon. "All right, maintain radio silence unless absolutely necessary. I'll contact you if I need to."

"Got it," Chip responded, though he left the line open in case Valentine needed him and he began his surveillance again. The task didn't seem boring now that there was the possibility of an encounter. They were onto something here.

Chip heard a low growl and jumped, startled, out of his chair. He looked around wildly before realizing the sound had come from the other end of the transmission to which he was still connected. He heard Valentine mutter "Oh, Shit"

"Valentine! What's going on?" Chip said, frantically. His worry only growing as his question was answered by static. He'd lost all communication. His hands were a blur on the keyboard as he worked frantically to hack the system and find out why he'd lost signal but there was none. By all accounts, he should still have it. There was no logical reason for it.

Chip was more than worried.

Valentine stayed crouching low where he was as the creature pulled itself to it's full height. It raised it's slobbering maw and bellowed it's rage to the heavens. Valentine took that moment of the beast's distraction to glance quickly at his surroundings, seeing how he could use the terrain to his advantage. There was a stalagmite to his left and quite a bit of distance between the cave walls so he should have no trouble maneuvering. Valentine adjusted his footing and, in one strong swift move, he used the wall as leverage to launch himself at his opponent.

Swinging in a low arc, he brought his sword to bear in front of him. He had hoped to gut the creature's exposed abdomen but with surprising quickness it sidestepped and lashed a clawed hand out at him. Valentine barely had time to twist in mid-air, just out of the claw's reach. Had the strike landed, it would have mangled his arm. So the filthy beast was trying to disarm him?

Landing, Valentine quickly took a step back, slowly moving around his enemy. The wolf did like wise, the two predators circling each other warily, trying to gauge weaknesses. The wolf snarled, baring it's fangs.

"Why granny, what big teeth you have," Valentine mocked bringing another growl from the lupine creature. He raised his sword. Concentrating on his blood, he prepared to use the advantages his vampiric heritage brought him, "Bring it on then, wolfman."

The werewolf attacked first, provoked by Valentine's taunts. It lunged, taking a quick swipe at Valentine's side which he dodged, sidestepping with unearthly reflexes and swung his sword downward. The wolf jumped back before the blow could land. In turn, Valentine twisted his wrist, fluidly adjusting his movements to the wolf's, his weapon pointed in his enemy's direction as he lunged. The beast snarled loudly as it staggered back a step but Valentine could tell he'd hit, could smell the fresh blood, and when the wolf looked at him again there was a nasty looking gash staining the wolf's cheek.

Valentine flashed a fang filled smile, "Valentine. In the slim chance that you live passed tonight, I want you to know who gave you that pretty souvenir."

"Laugh now, Leech," The creature drew it's own weapon, a large dagger that looked more like a short sword.

Valentine chuckled, "So claws and fangs aren't enough to finish me off? I guess I should be flattered that you're bringing out the heavy weaponry just for me. After all, you wouldn't be the first dog I put down."

Valentine took a defensive stance, bringing his sword up to block an aggressive attack towards his own face. The werewolf was fighting angry and, if Valentine was lucky, that would make it fight stupidly. Blades crossed, they contested strength, each trying to gauge the might of his opponent and overpower him. Valentine grabbed his sword with both hands. Feeling his blood quicken, he prepared to use his vampiric speed.

He parried, using the inertia to turn. He switched the grip on his pommel to deliver a backhand strike, satisfied as he smelled the blood from the hit. Adjusting his grip, he pushed the blade, holding the wolf in place as he struck with the elbow of his other arm to the back of wolf's head, knocking him forward slightly. Smiling, he pulled out the sword and swung it downward to slash the beast's left shoulder. He followed up quickly with a forehand strike across the back of the neck before the creature could right itself and, spinning his sword in a flourish, thrust the point downward between the wolf's shoulder blades.

Valentine knew that wasn't enough to kill the bastard, though it would slow him down. He executed a back handspring to put some distance between them, bracing for retaliation. "Are you going to give me a real fight or just take it like a bitch?" He taunted.

Snarling, blood and froth seeping from it's maw, the wolf retaliated. Before Valentine could bring his sword up, It bull rushed Valentine. Together they slammed into the cave wall. Pain erupted in Valentine's back from the sheer force of it before the wolf's blade thrust into him. The weapon keeping him pinned, the wolf took the opportunity to slash at Valentine's chest with his claws.

Valentine cried out in pain as the wolf's jaws clamped tightly around his shoulder, the flesh ripping slightly as the wolf shook it's head to tear the skin. Valentine was grateful for the fortitude his blood gave him otherwise the injury would have been much worse. The wolf griped the sword, twisting to inflict more damage as he removed his weapon, then tossed Valentine across the cave into the other wall as though he weighed nothing.

"Real… Fight…" The wolf growled at him angrily.

Valentine was in pain. Damn, but these bastards were strong. Valentine willed his blood to start healing his wounds, the hunger in him already growing. "Heh, I was starting to think this was foreplay" He lifted himself, standing to face his opponent again. "So, a real fight? Good. Then you won't have anything to be ashamed of when I send you to meet your bitch-mother God."

The beast gave a terrible roar as it moved in. It slashed and Valentine blocked. He swung again at Valentine's legs and no sooner had Valentine blocked before the creature swiped at Valentine's head. Valentine barely had time to parry the strike. The wolf used the momentum of the parry to bring the sword around with startling speed to slash at Valentine's midsection. Over and over again the swords clashed, the wolf striking from varied angles to keep unpredictable. Valentine grit his teeth as he realized that this beast certainly knew how to use a sword.

The werewolf pressed his attack forward, keeping Valentine on the defensive while forcing him back. The blows came fast and with such strength that Valentine's sword gave off sparks with each block and he could feel the tremors vibrate through his arm. Valentine blocked the volley of strikes, not having a chance to retaliate against the furious attacks without risking the wolf's blade getting inside his guard. The werewolf was gaining ground and confidence. It was also clear to Valentine that the wolf wasn't paying attention to the surroundings.

Valentine sidestepped. The wolf's blow glanced off a stalagmite and that moment's pause gave Valentine his opening. He thrusted low, aiming for the vulnerable inner thigh of his opponent. The wolf blocked and Valentine parried the blade, whirling it high and leaving the wolf's midsection unguarded. Valentine followed through with a slash at the creature's abdomen, retreating a step to prepare for the next attack.

Holding the wound, the wolf lunged. Valentine used his opponent's weight against him and threw him to the ground. He raised his blade, preparing to thrust downward into the prone form. Only to watch the werewolf roll out of the way just in time to avoid the strike.

The two faced each other. Silence reigned. This was no time for quips. The creature was badly wounded and, thankfully, the silver in his weapon prevented the creature from regenerating. He was also fairly injured himself and would need more blood soon. Valentine realized he needed to bring this to and end quickly.

Valentine raised his sword to a high guard. The wolf mirrored his movements. He feigned a step forward and the wolf charged. Valentine smiled, the wolf's sword lunged for his heart so he turned slightly to the left, narrowing his profile and the strike barely missed it's target. Valentine grabbed the wolf's wrist in this left hand, using the inertia to slam the creature face first into the cave wall. He followed up by pivoting quickly and his right knee landed forcefully at the base of the wolf's spine, momentarily keeping it pinned. It howled in pain. Before it could retaliate, Valentine struck swiftly with his still raised sword, delivering his blow to the base of the creature's skull and severing the spinal cord, cutting off the wolf's howl.

Valentine stood silently over the body of his fallen foe. "Tough bastard, weren't you?" Valentine asked, giving the corpse a frustrated kick. Despite his victory, he was left feeling hollow. The fight should've ended differently; he could have done something flashier. Well, there was always next time.

Chances were that this wolf was by itself or someone would be attacking him by now. Valentine sighed. He came all the way out here for one? He gave the corpse another kick. He would have to dump it on the way back to the RV.

Chip had tried everything he could think of and he still hadn't been able to regain the transmission. He had considered going to the cave himself; but if Valentine couldn't handle what was out there then what chance did he have? Instead, he resolved himself to wait for Valentine to come back. If he wasn't back by dawn, then Chip could assume the worst.

A high pitched beeping brought him out of his thoughts. The motion sensors had picked up something. His eyes darted to the monitors and he let out a sigh of relief as he saw Valentine swagger into view. Chip ran to the door and swung it open.

Valentine staggered inside, once there Chip got a better look. He couldn't see any injuries but he knew Valentine could heal fairly quickly…if he had the blood. "Are you okay?"

Valentine fixed him with a withering look, "Peachy," he replied sarcastically, shrugging out of his trench coat.

"So, um…How did it go?" Chip asked eagerly, removing his own armor.

"There was one," Valentine said distractedly as he slipped off his holsters "It's dead now."

Chip smiled. Even though he hadn't fought, hadn't even witnessed the fight, he felt a rush of satisfaction that he'd been able to help eliminate even one more of these beasts. Eyeing his boss, Chip noticed that he seemed more sluggish than usual, a slight drawl to his words. He probably needed to feed that and also it was getting close to dawn.

"Valentine," Chip said. He continued despite the annoyed look Valentine gave him. "I took the liberty, I mean, t -there are, uh… provisions… in the back for you."

Valentine raised an eyebrow at that but wordlessly headed to the back of the RV. He opened the door to see three girls, professionals by the look of their scanty clothing and overdone makeup.

"Ladies!" Valentine greeted them with a lecherous grin. The girls giggled. Valentine turned to glance at Chip.

"Call Elia. Let her know we'll meet up with her tomorrow night." Valentine started to close the door but stopped and looked at Chip for a moment, "Good job."

"Thanks," Chip nodded, taken slightly aback by Valentine's compliment, and turned to head to the front of the RV. They had quite a drive ahead of them. There was work to be done, after all.