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Dark Heart Wolf

Page 9

by Haley Weir


  Now that Mary Ann mentioned it...the woman had resembled Charlotte's charismatic friend. But before Sam could open his mouth to contradict himself, she cut him off. "I'll do this with you, I'll take this step. But when we get back to town, both of us are goin' to the brothel to ask Ariel. Until then...don't...don't touch me. I have nothin' against the ladies who work there to earn an honest livin', but I need time to think about all of this."

  "I understand."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Colorado Territory

  “We should make camp for the night,” Sam said from where he was perched on his horse. Mary Ann looked to the west and saw the sun setting behind the horizon, casting a warm glow upon the forest. Streaks of crimson and gold stretched as far as the eye could see as ebony clouds ferried stars across the vast sky. Just a sliver of the moon was visible. Mary Ann sighed at the beauty of the world that evil spirits sought to destroy. Looking up at the sky, she felt so small and vulnerable. So mortal.

  But she followed Sam off of the mountain path and to a small clearing in the forest. It wasn’t too big, but large enough to lay out the bedrolls and start a fire. Sam left to check the surrounding area for bandits or animals that might disturb the camp. Mary Ann found kindling to start a fire. She kept it low, not wanting the smoke or light to catch the eye of anything dangerous lurking in the trees. The crunch of boots through the underbrush caused her to reach for her rifle until she saw Sam’s wolf creep into the camp.

  “Smart,” she snorted. “Back to your old tricks again, I see.”

  Back when Mary Ann had been nothing more than a shy little girl too scared to trust anybody out of fear that her father would retaliate, Sam had thought to approach her as a wolf before introducing himself as a man. He became her most trusted companion, as well as her best friend over time. Sam’s wolf had seen the bruises and heard the fights. It listened to her confessions as well as her dreams. There was something about the soulful eyes and the serene expression on the wolf’s face that made it so much easier to talk to than the intense man that stood near seven feet tall.

  The wolf padded over and flopped down beside her bedroll. Mary Ann had covered the ground in brush before laying out their sleeping gear so they didn’t catch cold. Though the snow had started to melt more and more each day, the nights were still as cold as ever. The brush helped keep her off of the bare ground so that her body heat could keep her warm. It was something Sam had taught her the first time she ever ran away from home.

  He placed his snout on her thigh and whined until she began to pet him. Large red eyes stared up at her with a world of hurt in their depths. She ran her fingers through the soft white pelt that covered his body and allowed her mind to drift off. The wolf curled beneath her blanket and snuggled up to her as the sun disappeared in the distance.

  It was there in the silence, in the nearness, that she felt safest.

  Sam’s wet nose brushed her shoulder and his tail thumped happily against the ground where it poked out of the blanket. Mary Ann chuckled. “You are pitiful, you know that?” she sighed with a fond smile. He gave a little whine and snuggled closer. He acted more like a trained pup than a fierce wolf in her arms. Mary Ann ducked beneath the blankets and slipped away into a deep sleep, knowing Sam would keep watch through the night.

  The next morning, Mary Ann felt a strong chill sweep beneath her covers and groaned. She cracked open her eyes to find Sam in the form of a man, strapping down their saddlebags. He glanced down at her as though sensing she was awake. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he rasped with a sleep-roughened voice. “Sorry to wake you, Mary, but we got to hit the road again.” Sam reached down to help her up but caught himself. He turned away to give her a bit of privacy as she climbed to her feet and cleaned up her bedroll.

  Mary Ann tapped him on the shoulder when she was finished. “I need to relieve myself. I’ll be back.” She turned towards the trees and walked deeper into the forest. The moss was still damp from the night, and birds twittered above her head in the trees. She found a spot where the camp was still visible, but it was far enough to where she knew Sam could not see or hear her unless he wanted to. When she was finished, Mary Ann tidied her poncho and strolled back towards the camp to help pack up.

  “I saw a cabin,” she announced.

  “I saw it last night too. Didn’t want to go knockin’ in case it caused trouble. I thought it would be best just for us to hunker down and play it safe.”

  “Did you see the symbol on the door?”

  He grew very grim. “I did. They’re skinwalkers. Their scent is all over the other side of the river. I’m guessin’ they might be bears. They know enough to mark their home to protect themselves from the witches, so maybe they could be allies.”

  “So far, we’ve seen coyotes, foxes, eagles, rabbits, and now bear shifters? What’s next?”

  “Actually, when Wesley was out with Charlotte huntin’ down the outlaws that work for Ethan, he thinks he sensed a cougar. Let’s just hope, whoever these big bastards are, that they’re on our side. Lord knows we don’t need more enemies.”

  ~*~

  Sam kept his eyes sharp in case more shifters were in the area. He watched every inch of forest that surrounded the mountain path and sniffed the area for anything that might have been hiding. Mary Ann was still quiet, but he hoped he was making progress with her. He knew he had to move slowly and earn her trust again. Sleeping next to her was the best thing that had happened to Sam since he left her house that night.

  “I think now would be a good time to tell me what to expect when we get up there, don’t you?” she said suddenly. “I mean, whatever told you to climb the mountain would not have asked you to do it for no reason, right?”

  “We make it to the top together, and then I have to bare my soul to the ancestors. Itsá says that it will take shape and that I must battle the spirit of the wolf and earn clarity. If I win, then I will be given a chance to petition the ancestors for forgiveness for my mistakes in the past and speak with Savannah and Malia. Through them, I’ll earn peace.”

  “What do I have to do?”

  Sam glanced over at Mary Ann. “You have to keep the other spirits on the mountain from takin’ over my body while my soul completes the trial.”

  Mary Ann didn’t look too concerned. She simply nodded her head and shrugged, not showing any of the worry he had expected.

  “You ain’t afraid of what that could mean?”

  She shook her head this time. “I’m your mate for a reason. I may not have faith in much anymore, but I have faith in that. You know I would protect you to my last breath, Samuel. I got no problem watchin’ your back because I know you always have mine.”

  “It’s takin’ everythin’ in me not to lean over and kiss you right now,” he said with an ache in his chest he knew would not go away until he could hold her properly again. Mary Ann flushed violently and glanced away, unable to meet his stare. Sam felt foolish for ever walking away, but he knew he could never love her completely until he found a way to let go of his past. He was a broken, miserable man, and he was tired of his problems hurting her.

  “Charlotte said she knew how to defeat the witches, right?”

  “She did,” he answered.

  “How?”

  “She said somethin’ about a grimoire hidden in a tomb that’s concealed by a spell at the heart of the forest. Her vision showed a giant tree that looked much older than everythin’ else around it. She thinks she saw it the first time the Skadegamutc appeared.” Sam didn’t like the thought of the ghost witch guarding the grimoire needed to kill the witches. He didn’t need to know the horror of her legend to understand that she was an omen for death. As one of the evil spirits that had risen for the war, he was suspicious that she hadn’t attacked them as the Wendigo Spirit or the coven had.

  “What about the Draoi?”

  Sam stopped. “The what?”

  “Gabriel mentioned that the third spirit was known as the Draoi. It’s more of an entity th
an a physical being, able to tear open this world and the next. He says the Draoi will allow creatures this world has never known to cross over and that the Draoi itself will take one of you as its host and destroy everythin’ in one fell swoop.”

  “That...neither of the brothers told us that,” Sam grumbled.

  “Perhaps Gabriel feels more confident in us ladies. He tends to view ya’ll as dogs more than wolves, really. Calls you fleabags, mutts, and tail-chasers.”

  “Remind me to punch him so hard his head caves in next time I see him.”

  Mary Ann tossed her head back and let out a tendril of laughter that crawled across his skin like a gentle caress. He had missed her laughter. She brushed a piece of hair back and tucked it behind her. "Gabriel means no harm; he just has a hard time trustin' other male shifters. I think he might be a little sweet on Beth, though. I'm not too sure how Jesse is goin' to feel about that."

  "It ain't none of my business, so I could not care less." Sam's laughter died on his tongue when he smelled fire on the wind. It was the wrong season for forest fires, so he knew it had to have been a camp nearby. He gestured for Mary Ann to be quiet; she reached back to her rifle, lips pressed into a thin line. Sam heard the sound of an arrow whistle through the air only seconds before he jumped out of the saddle. He had only a split second to react, throwing himself at Mary Ann and knocking her out of the way. He made sure that she landed on top of him to shield her and the baby from the fall. The horses ran off with all of their gear.

  Sam roared and shifted into his wolf to protect his mate. Comanche. Not the stragglers they had a frail alliance with, but the great riders of the plains. Sam suspected they were hunting down the skinwalkers that broke away from their warbands. Mary Ann pulled her rifle and aimed down the road.

  In the quiet of the early dawn, the only sound that was heard was the deep rumble of Sam's breathing. Mary Ann stayed calm as he circled around her. She stood at his back without fear. Sam watched the trees for any signs of motion. Like most tribes, the Comanche were skilled hunters, and they only revealed themselves if necessary.

  Mary Ann cocked her rifle and said something in their native tongue. Sam could not understand her words. He grew more nervous by the second, pacing in front of her in case another arrow war fired. Seven tall, slender men with painted faces eased out of the brush. Mary Ann kept her rifle aimed, and they held their bows with arrows notched in place.

  The leader of the hunting party spoke, and Mary Ann lowered her gun. The Comanche eased their bows lower and replaced their arrows in the quivers. She wiped tears from her eyes and gestured with her hands as Sam watched dumbfounded. "They hunt the Wendigo Spirit," she said finally. "Their camp was attacked, and many of their people were taken. I told them about the mines."

  "How did you learn their language?"

  "I used to help Leroy carry goods and travelers between the territories. A Comanche tracker named Quenah taught me so that I could trade with their people," Mary Ann explained. "Leroy used to buy their slaves and captured people to free them. His work was always dangerous, but I know now how important it was. Abigail can translate, but she doesn't speak their language."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mary Ann approached the hunters, leaving Sam where he paced. She knew he would protect her if the men tried to take her. But Mary Ann didn't think she had anything to worry about. She spoke with their leader. Upon hearing that she was pregnant, he allowed them to take their gear back as well as some bison meat for their journey up the mountains. In return, the Comanche took the horses. Sam was upset to see his favorite mare go, but it was better than them being left for dead.

  "You should have talked to me before strikin' that deal," he grumbled.

  "While Comanche ain't completely irrational people, they tend to get a bit touchy when white men try to dictate what they do on their own land." Mary Ann took her share of the bags and set off in the direction of the mountains. Each time Sam tried to take the gear from her, Mary Ann swatted his hands away. "I'm pregnant. I ain't dead."

  She adjusted her rifle strap so the gun fell over her chest instead of behind her. The path ahead was sure to bring more surprises, and Mary Ann didn't want to get caught unaware again. She knew Sam and Boone saw her as a fragile woman, but they forgot she learned at an early age that there would not always be a man around to save her. Mary Ann followed Sam along the curving path until it narrowed near the base of the mountain.

  “We may have to veer from the path to get to the other passage,” he said.

  Mary Ann eyed the thorny bushes that blocked the way ahead. There was something eerie about them that sent a shiver down her spine. “Sam...I don’t think we should stray from the path. Someone or somethin’ put these here so that we would not make it up the mountain. I ain’t got magic like the others, but I know a trap when I see one.”

  “The witches?”

  “That or the Skadegamutc. She may be lurin’ us out here,” Mary Ann argued. “I say we use the knives and cut through the thorns. Make a clearin’ so we can use the path.”

  “That could take longer than goin’ around, Mary…”

  She looked up at the top of the mountain. They still had a three-day journey until they reached the peak but going around was too risky. Mary Ann needed Sam to trust her. She walked over to him and framed his face with her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I know you’re used to doin’ these things on your own, but I’m with you now, and so is my baby. You have to believe me that goin’ around ain’t a good idea, Samuel. I think there are more dangerous things on this mountain than Comanche hunters.”

  He looked as though he wanted to argue, but Sam held his tongue. Mary Ann kissed his cheek and dug around in the bags for his largest knife. She took the smaller one and did her part to hack away at the thorns. The watch in Sam’s pocket ticked by the hours that passed as they worked. “Do you have magic?” Mary Ann asked suddenly. He glanced over his shoulder at her and arched his brow. “You’re the only shifter I’ve seen aside from Boone who can sometimes regenerate your clothes. He got a little bit of magic. I was just curious, is all.”

  “I...have a little too. It ain’t very useful if you ask me.”

  “What is it?”

  “I can withstand more pain than the others,” he replied. “It’s good in a fight, don’t get me wrong. But most of the time, I end up draggin’ their fat asses out of battle by myself.”

  Mary Ann smiled despite herself and got back to work.

  The day quickly faded into night. Sam called for her to stop as he set camp nearby. They used the underbrush to conceal the glow from the embers of the fire. Mary Ann handed Sam a bowl of beans and a dry biscuit. It wasn’t much, but they needed to ration their food if they were going to make it to the top of the mountain.

  “When are you goin’ to tell me more about Charlotte’s vision?” she asked. “It must be botherin’ you. Itsá said the third spirit, the Draoi, was supposed to possess Boone, Jesse, Wesley, or you. Charlotte had a vision that you were the weapon used to unleash the creatures of the abyss. Knowin’ that you might be the thing to end this world...I know it ain’t easy, Samuel. I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”

  “I’m barely hangin’ on, Mary. I don’t know if the darkness I feel inside is because of the vision or if it’s because I was away from you for too long. I know you want answers, but I ain’t able to give you any at the moment.”

  ~*~

  Two days of hacking at the thorny bushes had all but destroyed Sam’s patience. He wiped sweat from his face and looked up at the sky. It was about noon. His feet hurt, his arms were sore, his watch was broken, and he hadn’t stopped to take a bite to eat in hours. Mary Ann kept trying to get him to eat, but he worried the baby wasn’t getting what it needed with them rationing everything. Sam let Mary Ann eat half of his portion and munched on the rest throughout the day.

  She was upset with him again, so he chose to stay quiet.

  Mary Ann Pearl was the on
ly person alive who had the ability to get angry at Sam for not taking care of himself. She was constantly upset on his behalf, and he didn’t want to bring her any more stress. He adored her for always trying to see the best in him despite his obvious flaws. He didn't deserve her and he knew there was no one else in the world more perfect for him.

  Sam lifted his knife to get rid of the rest of the branches when he caught the scent of somethin' thick on the wind. He dropped low and slipped into the shadows. Sam heard a hiss as Mary Ann put out the fire. He crept along the ground, trying to find whatever had thought to sneak up on them. There were no footprints in the patches of snow, but Sam saw a hooded figure among the trees.

  "Aaaalexander Eugeeene Cassady," a voice whispered in his mind. Sam grasped his head and trembled. It was like someone had shoved their hand inside of his skull and squeezed.

  "I'm his great-grandson…"

  The figure turned, and Sam saw ram horns protruding from a deformed woman's head. She had her lips sewn shut and sightless eyes. Markings had been painted over her face and long, greasy hair fell past her shoulders. Wrinkled, leathery skin covered a frail body that was hunched over slightly. Feathers, beads, and little trinkets adorned her body.

  "Leeeave the womaaan behind."

  "No," Sam said, shaking his head as he stepped away from the ghost witch. "She is my mate, and I will do this for her."

  "You will unlock sssomething inside of you. And she will leeesve foreveeer." The Skadegamutc limped closer to Sam, and the pungent smell got stronger. "Turn baaack or face the consequencesss."

  "What consequence?"

  The Skadegamutc said nothing. She cocked her head at an awkward angle. The buck of a rifle sounded and the ghost witch's face exploded. Time stood still, and the hag's face pooled like liquid before reshaping itself back together. An icicle broke off of a branch and flew towards Mary Ann before Sam could react. It struck his mate in the heart.

 

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