The Home of Hawk's "15" Series

Title: 15: Werewolves in L.A.
Author: Hawkedup

Summary: This takes place before the events of Angel: After the Fall #1 but sometime after the “First Night” mini. It is part of my “15” series in which I more deeply explore the minor characters of the ‘Verse.

Rating: PG
Warnings: Violence
Length: ~ 1,700 words
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations portrayed Angel created by Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt, and Angel: After the Fall created by Joss Whedon and Brian Lynch.

Characters: Nina.

15: Werewolves in L. A.

By: Hawkedup

So… life in Hell. I have to admit: It isn’t all that weird. Granted, it would probably be a little harder to handle if I hadn’t spent three restless nights a month for the last year locked up in a small metal cage. Oh! Don’t worry. It wasn’t one of those kinky sex and/or lobotomy cages or anything. Went through that phase in college and got over it pretty fast. And really, the whole being held captive against my will—well, against my nighttime/full moon will, which, decidedly: Not me in my most rational state of mind—thing kept me out of the type of trouble one only gets themselves into when they just happen to eat someone alive.

Plus, I got to spend some time with him.

That overdramatic, sweet, big foreheaded idiot. Who, by the way, I haven’t seen since my hometown took the big Tower of Terror Drop that never stopped. I stayed around even after he told me something big was about to happen—something bad. In hindsight, that was probably a mistake. I should have gotten on that plane with Jill and Amanda. At least they got away, though, and they don’t have to dance with zombie Botticelli in the pale moonlight on a regular basis.

Maybe I should be thankful to him for that, for helping me get my family out of here. Maybe I am. It’s hard to forgive a guy who sends his ghost secretary to do his dirty work—that’s a whole different story, though. But still… I don’t know. The one thing I swear is this: If I ever see him again… I’ll rip his chest open and slowly devour every piece of his flesh slowly. And since he’s a vampire, I could totally bathe in his blood, which I could also use to paint a big scarlet mural like I always wanted, for weeks before…

Right. Cool it, crazy wolf lady. Focus.

My name is Nina Ash, and I’m your every day typical artist/werewolf/resident of Hell. At least I think I am. I think I’m still the werewolf thing, I mean—okay, maybe the artist thing too, but mostly the werewolf thing. Hard to tell now days. Last I checked, a werewolf was a human that turned into a wolf with the full moon (and, surprise, the nights before and after a full moon as well—thanks for letting me know that part Mr. Claude Rains).

But what do you call a girl who is half-human, half-wolf all the time? The simple answer to that is: Hungry, itchy, and moody. So, I guess you could say that being a werewolf in Hell is sort of like being pregnant. Oh man. Jill would have hated that joke. Connor’s been a bad influence on me. Anyway…

“Nina!” Mike says and punches my arm. “Head in the game.”

We’re on top of a building about two miles from the home base, the two of us on lookout. We gotta make sure no vamp or demon gangs start infesting Santa Monica. Infesting Santa Monica more than it already is, of course.

Mike’s a Brachen demon. I’m not one for trusting demons what with the whole them being demons thing, but especially not so trusting after everything I’ve seen them do the past couple months. But Connor trusts him. He says Angel had a friend who was a Brachen demon once, too—went out all glorific and everything. Whatever. Connor trusts the guy so I trust the guy. Even if he did make a few passes at me when he first joined up with Connor’s mini-army and worthless citizen’s brigade.

Mike’s got a green face and is way too spiky for my taste—definitely not the kind of face I could learn to love. Luckily, I think Mike’s moved on and now has a thing for Gwen. Mike hasn’t noticed the goggle eyes she’s passing to Connor, but again, whatever. Relationships with demons and electric girls and prophesized offspring of vampires and their resurrected vampire sires who spent most their life in a hell dimension much like this one… I learned my lesson when it came to supernatural dating. Thanks, but I’ll just stick to Passions. Or I would, anyway—it would most definitely be better than what they’ve been showing on TV lately.

The roof sways beneath our feet, and I try not to think that this is because the building has gone all Sarlacc on us and grown a mouth. (A Sarlacc is that big mouth thing in Return of the Jedi that lived in the sand—so I dated a couple nerds in my time, sue me.)

“You see that over there?” Mike says.

He points. Down the street a group of humans are looting what used to be a record store. Funny. Usually, I’m disgusted with all these people who hold up big neon “come eat/enslave me” signs like this. Place’s been in hell for how long now, and people still going about their business like it’s Hurricane Katrina all over again? I can’t imagine why anybody would be out and about when the lords are rounding up anyone that steps foot into the streets, but at least these people are going for the music. Gotta admit, there isn’t enough good tuneage in Hell.  (Tuneage? Definitely been hanging out with Connor too much.) I could go for a few CDs myself—if, you know, any CD players or radios even work anymore.

Just keep AC/DC and Warren Zevon the Heaven away from me.

“Yeah,” I say. “I see it. Let’s go get ‘em.”

“Hopefully they got some Elton John,” Mike says.

I give him my best “if you’re any more idiotic, I’m so going to gnaw on your ribcage” look and then start climbing down the side of the building. Before I know it, I’m on the ground and running toward the humans. Pure joy comes over me. God, I just love to run! I feel free and alive when I run, and… I yell at myself. Gotta stay focused, stay human. If I’m not careful, I’m gonna end up yapping stupidly every time Connor takes my leash of its hook.

Not that I have a leash, mind you. Not yet, anyway.

I reign myself in so Mike can catch up. Brachen demons are strong and quick, but not so strong and quick as me.

“Thanks,” he says as he runs alongside me, “I thought I was gonna get to them and find that you’d already had a four course meal.”

“Keep talking, Sonic the… Did Sonic have a slower, uglier, twin brother?”

When we get to the record store, I tell Mike to wait out of sight. No use scaring the innocent human looters with his face before I can explain to them what’s going on.

“Hey,” I say as I step into the record store, “My name’s Nina. I—”

I barely have enough time to jump out of the way of a ball of fire that spews forth from one of the men’s flame throwers. I take shelter behind the register counter.

“Hey! Calm down, I’m here to help!”

“We don’t want your help!” the man calls out. “Leave us alone!”

“We have a place nearby! It’s safe.”

“Nowhere is safe!”

I’m about to jump the guy when I see something come flying toward the only one of the building’s windows that is still intact. It slams through the glass, which explodes. It’s Mike. His body slides on the floor and smashes into the counter where I’m hiding. I look at him and for one wild moment, gladness fills my heart because it appears that he’s only broken his neck. But then I look at the rest of him. Or rather, the lack of rest of him.

He’s been cut in half at the waist.

“Come out, humans!” a voice calls from outside. “We slaughter sympathizer, no come out, you next!” I sneak closer to the window and see that there are three lizard demons out there. I haven’t seen them around before, but they don’t look too tough—must’ve gotten the jump on Mike.

“Hey!” I call out, “uh… flame thrower guy! Three big ugly demons out there. Is there a back door?”

There is no answer for a few moments, but then:

“Yeah, but it’s blocked. We’re gonna have to take ‘em or surrender.”

“You willing to listen to what I gotta say if I help you get outta this?”

A pause.

“Okay.”

“Okay! We attack together! On three…”

As I count, I look down at my hands. My fingers elongate, grow claws. In moments like this, I gotta give the wolf a little more breathing room—let it out. It’s a better fighter than I am. The whole of my martial art skills consist of whatever I remember from that one credit Tae Bo class I took Freshman year. And to be fair, I missed more than one period and barely squeaked by with a C—I mean, it was at, like, 8 o’clock in the morning, so I’m sure you understand.

By the time I say “three” I’m barely Nina anymore. I’m just… angry.

The battle doesn’t last long. It’s a blur. Connor calls it a battle high. I know better, though. It’s blood lust. By the end, all three lizard demons are toast, but so are flame thrower man and two other humans. I barely give their bodies a second glance. That’s another present Hell gives you on a daily basis: a tough stomach. Best not dwell on it. The survivors look at me like a savior, even though I’m having trouble fighting down the wolf, my teeth even feel sharper, and I try to not look at them like extremely rare and tender meat.

One of them is a fat little girl. Somewhere the human in me wonders how anyone could stay fat in the world’s least air conditioned rat motel, but the wolf sees only dinner.

“Follow me,” I say giving one last look at Mike’s body. He was a good demon. That was a strange thought. There was a time I didn’t even believe in demons, but now I have to believe some of them are good.

I’m a demon now, too.

Then I lead my new family to Connor. I lead them home.

~ N ~