Werewolf Moon Ch. 03

His voice caught, and unshed tears glimmered in his eyes. "I promised her father, as he lay on his deathbed, that I would do my best to protect her. My best wasn't very good, was it?"

She kissed him on the cheek. "You did do your best. Don't beat yourself up; I hate to see you torture yourself. I....care about you."

He affectionately squeezed her hand. "Miranda -- please. Don't go there. You know what I am, but you don't know what that costs me - to sit and watch people I care about grow old, wither and die - assuming they live long enough to die of old age - while I stay forever frozen in my thirties. You don't want to get involved with me. It's dangerous. People I get close to end up dead. Anna Valerious....Tessa. Don't join the list."

"I knew the risks when I signed up for this duty," she returned. "Please don't shut me out."

He sighed. "I won't. I'll do my best to protect you, but...no guarantees." Van Helsing pointed at the screen. "This may be our 'random werewolf.' The modus operandi fits. Little backwater towns, different one each month. He hits and runs, in and out. The brutal rape, the sexual mutilation -- eating the breasts and genitals. He's an elusive bastard, though. He's a real psycho -- probably is one in his human form, too. Maybe this time we'll have a chance to get him. Most of the time the law enforcement agencies won't admit that they have a werewolf on their hands, and by the time they do, it's too late - our beast has left town."

He glanced at her and smiled. "Ever been to Washington?"

"No. I hear it's pretty country though."

"It is," he said. "Let's go."

"Whoa, uno momento, cowboy," Miranda said. "You're forgetting the little matter of medical clearance. The staff is still concerned about the spinal trauma and bruising you sustained in your back when you hit that tree in Kentucky. It's almost cleared up, but they're not sure it's 100% cured - at least enough for you to go back into action."

"I'm fine," Van Helsing said defensively.

"Then let's see you stand up," she challenged.

He got up slowly and stiffly. He fought to hide the involuntary wince from Miranda, but she was having none of it.

"It's just a little creaky when I first get up," he said. "Once I get moving, it's fine. Maybe a cortisone shot..."

"That's up to the doctor," Miranda said.

"But I'm Chief of Operations!" he protested.

She chuckled. "On Star Trek, there was only one man who could pull rank on Captain Kirk, and that was Dr. McCoy! You, love, are in the same boat." Her eyes twinkled. "You could always do what James Bond did in Die Another Day."

"And that was?"

"He was still pretty banged up, and not really ready to go back on duty," Miranda replied with a grin. "007 persuaded the pretty young doctor to reactivate him by screwing her! You, however, my dear Gabe, need to convince Dr. Collins. He's 82 years old, been married 57 years, and is totally devoted to his wife!"

"I'm doomed!" Van Helsing groaned. "Come on, let's see if we can talk him into it."

He left the room. Miranda followed behind him. She glanced once more at the horrifying image of the werewolf.

A shudder coursed down her spine. She slammed the door and hurried after him.

TO BE CONTINUED...