by Cheree Alsop
Mrs. Stein and Virgo walked a respectful distance away to give me a chance to talk to the werewolves. I looked around at the expectant faces. Several were battered and bruised from their encounters with the felgul, and everyone appeared anxious for my reply.
“You’re free,” I told them.
“Free to do what?” a beefy werewolf newly named Joven asked.
I opened my arms to indicate the forest. “Free to be werewolves. To run, play, eat, hunt, whatever you want to do. You can try to integrate into the human world or live your lives as wolves in the wild if you prefer. It’s entirely up to you.”
I thought my words would be met with enthusiasm, but instead, only silence followed. I glanced at Mrs. Stein. She gave me a kind smile before addressing the werewolves.
“I know that Mrs. Willard wouldn’t mind having civilized and caring werewolves live in the forest behind her house until you find the place you would like to be.” She smiled at them. “And I would be more than happy to bring meals. I have other recipes I’m dying to try and my garden is full of squash ready to harvest.” She winked. “I may have worked a spell or two to keep them producing all year long, but don’t tell anyone.”
Answering smiles appeared on several faces and relief on others.
“If you’re sure she won’t mind,” Safira said.
“I’m positive,” Mrs. Stein replied. “Head on over that way and we’ll see that you all get the meal you deserve for helping to destroy that wraith.” She shook her head with a shudder. “Those things give me the creeps.”
I watched as the werewolves made their way through the trees. Worry filled me at the thought of them returning to the Willard’s forest.
“Are you sure Mrs. Willard won’t mind?” I asked. “I didn’t mean to bring this to her doorstep.”
Mrs. Stein gave me another motherly smile as she and Virgo walked beside me. “Of course she won’t, dear, and of course you didn’t. These things happen.”
“These things?” Virgo repeated in a doubtful tone.
Mrs. Stein glanced back at the Lair. “Well, not these things in particular, thank goodness, but we learn to roll with it.” She gave a slight frown and shot me a searching look. “Speaking of which.”
“What?” I asked.
Her eyebrows pulled together and she hesitated before asking, “There’s a coven up north we’ve been having trouble with. Is there a chance you wouldn’t mind helping out?”
I thought of all the things the Steins, the Willards, and Brickwell had helped me with, and knew what my answer had to be.
“Count me in.”
Mrs. Stein nodded with a pleased expression. “I’ll make some calls. Keep your lavender on hand.”
“I will,” I replied, then realized I had no idea what that meant.
Before I could ask, Mrs. Stein jaunted on ahead with more energy that ten of the werewolves. Virgo was hard-pressed to keep up with her. I let them go. The scent of Mitch and Alia passing on before us lingered on the leaves and the grass. I closed my eyes and took a breath. Morning dew, the faint musk of a martin, and the telltale crisp of winter lingered in the air. I opened my eyes with a contented smile at the fact that I would be around to enjoy it.
The Wolfborne Saga
Book 3- Dark Coven
By Cheree Alsop
Chapter One
“There’s a coven up north we’ve been having trouble with. Is there a chance you wouldn’t mind helping out?”
Never has there been a greater understatement.
I should have said no. I didn’t know the first thing about witches other than what I had observed of the Steins and my research at the Lair that had turned out to be incredibly biased. But after all the Steins and the Willards had done for me, there really wasn’t a choice in the matter.
So I found myself sitting in a very witch-like cottage on the edge of Township. From the outside, the place had appeared like little more than a house with overgrown trees and grass that hadn’t been cut in about a year. There was nothing to indicate what stepping past the threshold would reveal.
The shudder of wards ran over my skin and set my teeth on edge when I followed Mrs. Stein, Jemmy, and Virgo inside. I blinked and the simple illusion of floral wallpaper, plastic-covered furniture, a coffee table, and dead roses on an end-table fell away. I found myself staring at dead animal carcasses hanging from the low ceiling of a wood and mud cottage. Scents of oregano, parsley, basil, and lavender filled the air along with the lingering odors of death, green grass, dew, and red clay. Moth balls, cinnamon, and mouse poison told me that even witches had vermin problems.
Shelves filled with animal skulls, plaits of dried plants, eggs of every shape and size, and a variety of rocks surrounded two couches made of hide stretched over wooden frames. Three women rose as one from the couch closest to a fireplace that crackled with green-tinged flames.
“Welcome, Madam Rosy,” the first witch said.
She held out a hand that trembled as she reached for Mrs. Stein. Blue veins showed through the thin skin on the woman’s hands and face. Her long silver hair was caught back in a wooden hair comb, and white paled the woman’s eyes. She squinted blindly in Mrs. Stein’s direction.
The other two women looked to be in the same aged state. One supported herself with a cane carved with ruby-eyed snakes and an eagle’s claw spread at the bottom. I swore the snakes moved when I looked directly at them. The other woman leaned heavily against her friend and struggled to rise to the point that Jemmy stepped forward and helped her to her feet where she stood with bowed-shoulders and a hunched back.
“Oh, um, Madam Anna,” Mrs. Stein replied, her expression one of pure bafflement. “The years have gone quickly.” She clasped the woman’s hand in her own.
As soon as their hands touched, Madam Anna let out a laugh far younger than she looked. She threw the woman with the cane a toothless grin.
“Release them, Madam Henrietta,” the woman said.
Madam Henrietta tapped her cane. A warm breeze flew from away from the woman and wrapped around the room. The swirl carried with it colors and strands that tangled in the breeze. Within three passes of the wind, the room and the women before us had transformed completely.
Gone was the decrepit cottage from an age long past, gone were the animal carcasses, the skulls, the bookshelves, and the hide couches, and gone were the silver-haired, gnarled-boned facades of the women. In their place stood middle-aged ladies close to Mrs. Stein’s years. The one holding her hand had long black hair still caught up in the wooden comb. The woman with the cane held it in front of her, but the snakes and eagle’s claw were made of glass instead of wood.
The room was overtaken by beige and white walls, a honey-colored wood paneled floor, and simple but elegant furnishings of white and maroon with light colored wooden accents. The fireplace that had crackled menacingly became a simple gas fixture with an intricate panel in front of it, and the shelves changed into bookcases, a small television stand, and end tables.
The final woman who had been hunched and weak now stood taller than the others with a gleam of delight in her eyes.
“Well, wasn’t that fun?” she proclaimed.
Mrs. Stein shook her head. “I should have guessed, Madam Doxy. You always were a master at illusions.”
“That wasn’t I,” she said with a laugh. “It was Madam Henrietta.” Madam Doxy winked at Mrs. Stein. “She’s been practicing.”
“But you added the smells,” Madam Henrietta said with a slight pout. “I always forget something.”
Madam Doxy patted her shoulder. “Illusion is all about attention to details. I’m sure the others wouldn’t have recognized the subtle difference, but the werewolf would have.”
“Werewolf!” Madam Henrietta said with a gasp. “Where?”
“Do you mean where-wolf?” Madam Doxy asked with a small laugh. Her laughter stopped abruptly when her eyes shifted to me and a sudden seriousness overcame her demeanor. “It’s the beast back there.”
&
nbsp; The other two witches looked at me.
“You mean the handsome boy?” Henrietta asked.
“Of course,” Madam Doxy replied. “Look at his eyes. Illusions can’t disguise the eyes.”
When she met my gaze, I felt as though she saw every piece of me. A shudder ran down my spine and I looked away.
“We can’t have a werewolf here,” Madam Anna said. “You know better than this, Madam Rosy.”
Mrs. Stein nodded quickly. “I do know, and I meant no offense.” She glanced at me. “I just thought that he could help us with the, you know, problem.”
Madam Anna shook her head. “We can’t trust a werewolf. He’ll have to be destroyed.”
Madam Henrietta lifted her cane and said several words I had heard before but didn’t understand. The end of the cane glowed blue and I found myself stuck, completely, as though I had been trapped in ice. I remembered Virgo speaking the same words when the werewolves we rescued failed to use manners while eating the food Mrs. Willard had cooked them. I glanced sideways at him and found the warlock watching me with a look of horror on his face.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Jemmy demanded. “Tell them to release him!”
“I can’t, darling,” Mrs. Stein replied.
Her voice was thick with emotion. I couldn’t turn my head to see what kind. My experience with humans was limited enough that I couldn’t decide by her tone if she was happy or distraught by my situation.
Panic filled me at being entirely immobilized and a small squeak of fear escaped my throat.
“That’s right, werewolf. You should be afraid,” Madam Anna said. “You’ve messed with the wrong coven.” She glanced to the left. “Madam Doxy, take care of him.”
To my horror, the tall witch opened a drawer beside the couch and pulled out a gun. I could smell the silver of the bullets from where I stood. I struggled to move, but even the tips of my fingers refused to respond.
Madam Doxy lifted the gun and pointed it at my chest.
“No!” Virgo protested. “You can’t do this!”
Madam Anna speared him with a look. “You can’t do this, Apprentice Virgo. Remember your place.”
A motion of her hand forced Virgo into the overstuffed chair behind him. He struggled, but couldn’t get free.
The witch turned her gaze to Jemmy. “Are you going to fight, Apprentice Jemmy?”
Jemmy looked from the witch to me. I could read the fear in her eyes. I didn’t know whether it was for me or the witch. The thought that she was my last remaining supporter made a knot tighten in my throat. If she backed down, I would be done for; I was certain of it.
Jemmy gave a small, brave nod. “I’ll fight for him,” she said in a small voice.
The barest hint of pride showed in Madam Anna’s eyes before they darkened and she said, “I thought you would.”
With another flick of her wrist, she sent Jemmy to the couch. Immobilized with a huff, she could only turn her eyes to me. A tear leaked free to trail slowly down her cheek. The sight pierced my heart.
“Your children are obstinate, Madam Rosy,” Madam Anna said.
I saw Mrs. Stein give a small nod out of the corner of my eye. “As we all are,” she replied.
Madam Anna’s lips lifted into a brief smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
She nodded at Madam Doxy. “Do it.”
I couldn’t even flinch when two silver bullets left the gun and sunk into my chest with an impact that knocked me back several feet. Still immobilized, I could do nothing about the pain of the wounds, the feeling of suffocation, or the agony of the silver burning its way through my veins.
A gasp escaped through my clenched teeth; I couldn’t draw in another breath.
“Let him go, Madam Henrietta,” Madam Anna said.
Strength left my legs the moment her hold released; I fell to the floor. Mrs. Stein took a step forward, but Madam Anna had only to shake her head for the witch I trusted to back away.
I glared at the floor. The pain that flowed through my body was excruciating. The irony that I had killed several of my own kind in the same way wasn’t lost on me. I was destined to die as nothing more than a feral, violent beast. I was a cur, a zev, a monster to be feared.
They don’t deserve to live. You are stronger, your lineage is more powerful. Humans are pathetic weaklings who owe you their gratitude.
My hands curled into fists as the Master’s voice whispered through my head. I told myself that he was dead, slain in part by my own hands. Yet his words continued to leech within my thoughts.
Don’t lay down and die like some pathetic mongrel. Fight and take them down with you. End the lives that ended you. Vengeance is all you have left.
The pain heightened along with the voice. The urge to phase into wolf form pulsed beneath my skin. I could tear them apart. I could make them pay for their betrayal. Mrs. Stein had set me up. Had Virgo and Jemmy known about it? I could phase into a wolf and make them all regret ever having dragged me into the trap.
Phase and make them pay.
My body spasmed as the wolf pushed its way forward. The need for vengeance colored my vision red. My straining muscles pulled against the bullet holes and a pain more excruciating than anything I had ever experienced before rippled through me like a serrated blade that shredded everything it touched. A groan at the pain escaped me.
“Get ready,” Madam Anna said in a low voice. “He’s going to change form.”
The sound of my blood pattering to the honey-colored wooden floor centered me. I had seen far too much blood in my lifetime. I had been the reason for it spilling, leaking away the life of the person who depended on it. Seeing my own blood puddle toward my right hand and then envelop it in the thick warmth was too real. I closed my eyes. Perhaps this was for the best.
No! the voice in my head screamed. Kill them! Make them pay!
“I am the one who should pay,” I replied.
The voice quieted along with the others in the room.
After a moment, Madam Anna broke it. “What did you say?”
I hadn’t realized I had spoken aloud. I shook my head, unable to find the strength to explain.
Hesitant footsteps approached. Sneakers with kittens on the sides appeared in my vision. She crouched and I caught a glimpse of a poodle on the side of her skirt. I thought poodle skirts had vanished a long time ago. The thought that shoes with kittens and a skirt with a poodle wouldn’t get along made me laugh inside despite the grimness of the situation, or maybe because of it.
My comment to Alia after she had seen the Lair and questioned how we could still joke rang true. Laughing was far better than crying, and with the pain of the silver spreading through my veins, I deserved a good cry. But I refused to let that happen.
“Aren’t you going to phase and try to kill us all?” Madam Anna asked as casually as if she was asking whether I preferred hamburgers or hotdogs.
I shook my head.
A soft hand cupped my chin and lifted it so I could look at her.
The witch’s green eyes showed her confusion. “Why not?”
I let out a sigh that gurgled and replied weakly, “I’ve killed enough.”
The witch’s dark eyebrows rose. She looked past me to whoever stood behind me. I couldn’t remember who was there. The effects of the silver and blood loss were taking their toll. My face slipped out of the witch’s hand and my arms gave out.
“Mom, do something!” Virgo shouted. I could hear him struggling in the chair.
“Mom, please,” Jemmy sobbed.
“Madam Rosy, tea,” Madam Anna said.
“But, Madam Anna,” Mrs. Stein began.
“Tea,” the witch repeated in a firm tone.
“Yes, Madam,” Mrs. Stein gave in. Her footsteps faded from the room.
“Roll him over, Madam Henrietta,” Madam Anna directed in a businesslike tone. “And Doxy, we need the lavender crumble.”
“Right away,” Madam Doxy said.
Ha
nds turned me over as gently as if I was a baby.
“Madam Doxy, his shirt.”
A snipping sound was followed by cool air against my sticky chest. I opened my eyes to see Madam Anna crouched over me. Her eyes were closed and she whispered in a language I didn’t recognize. Runes on her hands similar to Virgo’s glowed green.
Suddenly, it felt like a force was pulling from the inside of my torso outward. I couldn’t stifle a shout at the pain. My back arched in the air. Two points of fire grew within my chest. I couldn’t breathe past the agony. Had I made a mistake? If they were going to torture me, maybe they did deserve to die.
That last thought stayed with me as I wavered on the edge of consciousness. Two sucking sounds were followed by an immediate release of the pressure. My muscles relaxed and I was able to suck in a slight breath. I was lowered back down to a blanket someone had spread across the floor.
I opened my eyes to see two mangled silver slugs suspended in the air above me. Madam Anna reached her hand out and they fell onto her palm.
“The tea, Madam Rosy,” Madam Anna said.
“Right here,” Mrs. Stein replied.
“The lavender crumble,” Madam Anna said.
Madam Doxy set something in her hand. The witch broke the substance in half and pressed it to each of the wounds. Terrified and unsure of what was going on, I gritted my teeth and refused to make a sound.
Madam Anna took the tea kettle Mrs. Stein held out. She lifted the lid and dipped her pinky finger into it.
“Perfect,” she proclaimed.
She poured the contents of the kettle over my chest. I cringed, expecting my skin to burn with the heat, but it wasn’t hot. As she poured the liquid onto the substance she had packed into the bullet holes, a soothing sensation took over most of the pain.
My nerves jangled. Being immobilized and shot, then worked on with care wreaked havoc on my body. I didn’t know what to think, and it terrified me. Tremors ran over my skin. The wolf, subdued at least by the removal of the bullets, still threatened to push free if I let down my guard. I couldn’t decide if I had made the right decision to keep my peace. Peace certainly hadn’t been given to me.