I needn’t have worried. As we round a turn that leads to the creek, my flashlight sweeps across the eyes of an animal.
A very large one.
I stumble backward as it growls. The hands of my sisters catch me.
The face and muzzle are familiar, but it’s the eyes that clinch it. As I lower my beam, it flashes off emerald specks in the dark pupils.
“Ren?”
The wolf cocks its head, sniffs, and locks gazes with me for a tense moment.
“It’s me. Ruby.” I carefully reach a solicitous hand toward him. “I’m here to help you.”
The night air fogs white from his huff. Then he lifts his muzzle and lets out a hair-raising howl.
Chapter Eleven
The eerie sound shoots icy shivers down my spine. It’s full of pain and anguish.
I hear Leo behind me, my legs shaking as I stand my ground. The sharp cry echoes through the forest, and a second goes up a reasonable distance away.
“Easy,” Leo says to me as Ren lowers his head and makes eye contact again. “No sudden moves.”
Believe me, I have no intention of provoking the giant wolf. One leap and he could be on me.
“It’s okay,” I soothe, the statement for both Ren and Leo. Carefully, I withdraw a handful of kibble. The wolf’s ears prick and his nostrils flare.
I toss several to him.
At first, he continues to stand at attention. Preternaturally still, he scrutinizes me. I stay as immobile and, hopefully, as nonthreatening as possible.
“Ruby…” Belle’s voice quivers. “This is dangerous.
“Shh…” I toss another piece. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
I smile, hoping somewhere inside him, Ren sees it. Remember me. I start a chant in my head on the off chance he can pick up on it. I’m your friend. You feel safe with me. It’s time to go home.
The third time I go through the recitation, I see a softening in his stance. Wariness continues to blaze in his eyes, but he seems to understand on a basic, gut level that I mean him no harm.
Doesn’t mean he’s ready to come with me, however.
“Everyone take a slow, easy step away from us.”
“I’m putting up a protective ward around you,” Zelle says.
The wolf snarls.
“That’s not necessary.” I never take my eyes from him. “Just do as I say. Take a step back so he doesn’t feel like we’re ganging up on him.”
“It’s a good idea,” Leo says. I sense all three reluctantly moving.
I drop a few more bites, leaving them like breadcrumbs, and do the same. “Come on, buddy. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He drops his muzzle and sniffs those closest to his massive paws. His gaze stays on me as he eats one, then another.
A rush of satisfaction floods me. “That’s right. We’re all good here.”
After finishing the kibble nearest him, he moves forward. His head stays lowered, focus never leaving my face.
“Careful,” Belle warns when he takes a second step, close enough I can hear his breathing.
Maintaining my slow movements, I lay out more food, retreating as I do so. My heart does a leap of relief each time Ren takes a bite. “Don’t worry. He’ll be out soon.”
I hope, anyway.
Like the Piped Piper, I continue to entice the wolf to follow us.
“Wait, you charmed the food?” Belle’s whisper is a mix of astonishment and admiration. “I thought you were just feeding him.”
Ren halts and cocks his head, as if understanding the conversation, I stop all movement. Come on, come on. Eat.
My lungs release the breath I’m holding when he resumes. Stepping back, I narrowly miss a fallen limb. I toss more morsels to distract him. “It was either that or tranquilize him,” I murmur. “Since that wasn’t an option, I went with this.”
Zelle chuckles. “Resourceful, as always, sister.”
It’s agony going so slowly. Every snap of a branch or skitter of a nocturnal creature captures Ren’s attention. By the time we reach the trail, however, he begins to sway.
“Looks like it’s working,” Leo comments.
“Get the kennel and bring it here,” Belle instructs.
“I’m not leaving the three of you alone with a werewolf, even if he is about to pass out.”
Ren growls, and I again sense he understands us. “It’s okay,” I coax. “Look at what I have for you.”
Extending a shaking hand, I display a giant bone, flavored like chicken according to the package I removed it from. His nose wrinkles and he closes in.
The edible chew toy is recommended for large breed dogs and measures at least a foot. He sways again but clamps on the end of it and jerks it from my grasp.
His front paws stumble, the rear ones giving out. Even as his massive jaws bust through the bone, he crumples to the ground in front of us.
Leo tugs Belle behind him. “How long will he be out?”
Zelle’s hand is on my lower back. I hadn’t noticed it before now, but I feel her fingers gripping my cape and trying to tow me farther away.
Ren manages to snap another section before his eyes roll up in his head. He sags to the side.
My breath whooshes out of me. “Thirty minutes?” I’ve never spelled a werewolf before, but I read in one of Eunice’s books that this works on a variety of supernatural creatures. It’s effectiveness ranges from half an hour to a whole day. “Let’s get that kennel.”
“I’ll stay with Ruby.” Zelle keeps a close eye on Ren, even as her hand relaxes on my cape.
Leo and Belle take off through the woods, and Zelle tiptoes around him, sizing up his paws, his ears. “He’s so…big.”
I crouch and gently stroke his muzzle. He growls softly in his sleep. The parting clouds allow the moon to glint off his canines. “How am I going to explain all of this to him?”
“Not exactly how you want to start a relationship, is it?”
“There won’t even be a friendship if he can’t accept this, or decides a witch isn’t his swipe-right kind of girlfriend.”
She scratches her hair, growing out from its ponytail. “You are who you are. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“The same can be said for him. I need to convince him of that.”
“You fell pretty quick.”
Sometimes you just know when it feels right. “I’m getting ahead of myself, I guess, but from the moment I saw him, I felt…”
“The click?”
Zelle’s term for being compatible.
“Yeah, there was definitely a click.”
We watch him breathe, the night forest sounds subdued.
She kneels next to me and rubs several strands of his fur between her finger and thumb, testing the texture of it. “The way his eyes light up when he sees you tells me he’s definitely interested in being more than friends. Give it a chance. He might surprise you.”
“Right.” I search for some grounds for hope. “He didn’t run screaming when he heard us discussing werewolves and shifters. That’s a positive, right?”
“I’d say you have a good shot at helping him understand what he is and how to cope with it.” She puts a hand on my shoulder. “I think you two will make a good couple.”
I chuckle nervously. “We barely know each other.”
Footsteps approach, along with the sounds of snapping branches. I assume it’s Leo and Belle, but my inner sense of danger raises the hair on the back of my neck.
Zelle senses it, too, whirling to shine her flashlight into the nearby trees.
Removing my cloak, I drape it over Ren’s body and mutter a quick spell to activate the cloak's invisibility powers.
“Oh, hi, Ruby.” Jenny emerges from a copse of trees to our right. “We thought we heard voices out here.”
Zelle steps next to me, her shoulder lines up with mine. The moon slides behind the clouds again, as if assisting us in putting Ren in the shadows. “Who is she?”
“Zelle, this is J
enny, one of the paranormal investigators. Jenny, my sister.”
“Hey, nice to meet you.” Jenny gives her a shy wave. “You must be Belle’s twin.”
Zelle doesn’t answer or return the gesture.
“Are you out here alone?” I query.
“Nah.” She grins and points over her shoulder. “Wagner’s with me.”
The man who accompanied her at the shop catches up to her now, breathing heavily. He’s dressed in all black and they have on their matching vests. “You were correct. It’s the witches.”
“We’re shooting footage.” Jenny keeps smiling, her enthusiasm obvious. “What are you two doing out here?”
Zelle ignores his question and poses her own. “Where’s your camera?”
Jenny raises the phone in her hand. “We do some on these. Gives the show a special flare, sort of a Blair Witch vibe, you know?”
“Never cared for that movie myself.”
“We’re on our way home from visiting our grandparents,” I tell them, diverting the conversation.
Wagner smirks. “Dangerous to be out here at night, isn’t it? We heard howling. You didn’t see any wolves or coyotes, did you?”
In the distance, a siren blares. We turn our heads in that direction. “No, but,”—Zelle laces her arm through mine—“this is their home. They howl all the time. We’ve found the wild animals don’t bother us if we don’t bother them.”
The siren draws closer. Jenny pockets her phone. “Well, we best be going. Good to see you.”
Wagner stays planted until she tugs on his arm, and they finally disappear the way they came.
Zelle lowers her voice. “Do you think they saw anything?”
My stomach feels like there’s a hundred pound brick in it. “We better hope not.”
“They give me the willies.”
“Me, too, and we better have Poppi keep an eye on their blog. I fear they may have more than we like on film.”
Chapter Twelve
The task of hauling Ren into the cage and then the van takes a bit of doing. Even with magick, he’s no easy beast to move.
Leo’s size and strength helps, and Zelle and I keep our senses on high alert as Belle assists him, but it’s slow going.
To complicate matters, two police cars pull in a few yards from our vehicle before we can load Ren. Red and blue strobes rake the trees.
Officers bail out and discuss their plan to comb the main path. We hide in the shadows and Zelle and Belle use their combined magick to weave a spell around us that has the effect of blurring our images.
I place the cloak over the cage, the chilly air seeping into my bones. We hunker down for long minutes until they divide up to start their search. One walks right past me, and I hold my breath.
The magick holds, and he moves on. I swallow the fear in my throat and silently breathe again.
Once they disappear, we leave our flashlights off as we navigate to the rear doors. When everyone is in and buckled, I place another spell over the engine for it to run whisper quiet.
No one speaks until we’re at the shop. I back in as close to the rear entrance as possible, and Leo manages to wrangle the cage out.
In the workroom, we stand in a circle, trying to decide what to do with Ren now that we have him here. The kennel takes up so much space, we can barely move around it.
“If he wakes still in wolf form, he’ll be frightened and confused,” I say, working over various ideas in my head. “He’ll try to break free.”
“If he wakes up human, he’ll still be confused,” Leo states.
“And naked,” Zelle adds with a lighthearted wink at me.
Belle gently smacks her sister’s arm. “We’ll get him a blanket.”
I watch his eyes moving under the heavy lids as he dreams. “I can charm the cage to hold him, but it might be better if he wasn’t…on display. Plus, I don’t want to scare the others when they come down.”
“Your room?” Zelle asks, all innocence.
“It’s not big enough for this unless I move everything but the bed out.”
Zelle quietly claps. “Sounds like a plan.”
Belle and I both smack her this time.
“What?” She acts put out, but chuckles. “I’m just trying to help.”
Reaching in her pocket, she draws out her phone and points it at Ren. “Say cheese.”
I grab the phone. “What are you doing?”
“It’s for my scrapbook.”
“No pictures.”
“The tower,” Belle says, pointing. “If we move the couch to the west wall, there will be plenty of space.”
Leo gives her a look like she’s lost her mind. “You want me to navigate those stairs with this?” He taps the wire bars.
“We’ll supervise,” she assures him, a bright smile gracing her lips.
It’s a good idea. That way, he’ll be out of sight and not bothered by anyone when he shifts.
Leo is a sucker for Belle. When she turns on the charm, he can’t say no. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
She hugs him and he peels her arms away, as if she’s still on his list, but I see the way he smiles under his beard.
The same spell I used to keep the van engine quiet works equally well to keep our progress up the narrow stairwell from waking the others.
From all the jostling, however, Ren wakes. As we scoot the couch aside and Leo deposits the cage in its place, Ren snarls and whines, then scratches at the bars.
“What now?” Belle asks.
I check the clock on the desk. “Sunrise is in a few hours. He’ll shift back soon. I’ll stay with him. You guys get some rest.”
Ren lunges, snapping his jaws together. I perform a quick spell to reinforce the bars and anchor the kennel to the floor. He lifts his muzzle, and before I can silence him, he howls.
So much for our efforts to remain quiet.
The cry raises the rest of the family. Cinder, Matilda, and Uncle Odin show up, shocked. I listen to half an hour of various chastisements for going into the woods and bringing home a werewolf, combined with utter fascination that I captured one.
The reality of a magickal family.
Eventually, everyone leaves and that alone helps to calm Ren considerably. I make tea and bring water for him. I manage to slide a narrow bowl through the bars to pour it in, his eyes monitoring my every move the whole time.
He continues sniffing and whining. I put fresh non-bewitched kibble in beside the water. He turns, lifting his chin, much like Nonni when Poppi gives her grief about her moon dancing.
“I know I tricked you. Not very nice of me, was it?”
His steely gaze comes back to glare at me. I sip tea and sit nearby, using my cloak for padding. He scratches at his confines, trying to find a way out, and lets loose another howl that sends goosebumps all over my skin.
I snap my fingers, sending a bit of magick toward him as a warning. “None of that. You’ll keep the others awake. How about we talk?”
He paces as best he can, the cage too small for him to do more than turn circles. He whimpers and shakes, flinging hair everywhere.
I ignore the display, telling him what I know about werewolves. “Many cultures have stories about them, what they’re associated with, what cures them or kills them. Weres are created from the bite of another and can’t control their shifting. A shapeshifter can. Then there’s an Animagus, a rare type of witch who can use magick to become an animal. That’s an entirely different variety. It appears you’re a werewolf, and this month’s moon has triggered your shift. Why is the key to figuring it all out.”
He listens and then laps at the water but ignores the food. I go to the shelves and scan Eunice’s books. A history of the area catches my eye. The aged volume is sticking out as if someone returned it but didn’t line it up with the rest.
Back at my seat, I flip through the yellowed pages. An interesting note in her penmanship stops my search.
“Your name. You told me it was Renfroe Redfern Wools
ey.”
The wolf gnaws at the wire bars.
“As if, buddy. You can’t break out of there. Trust me.”
I move to the desk and thumb through a local directory from the same time period, which contains brief accounts of the town, even smaller back then, and a list of inhabitants.
Redfern is listed once, the address is unfamiliar. “Do you have relatives from this area?”
He answers with a growl.
Making a note of the name on a slip of paper, I return to my seat next to him and resume reading the latest diary entry of Eunice’s. It’s the spring of 1800 and she’s listed all the herbs and flowers she plans to grow that summer in her garden. She and Ezra are married now and expecting their first child.
My body becomes stiff and heavy, my eyes tired. What a day it’s been. The adrenaline and shocking discoveries have left me completely drained.
I catch myself falling asleep more than once. Ren makes yips and moans, sad and painful sounding. At one point, he lies on his side, legs jammed against the metal bars, and his breathing becomes harsh and quick.
In fascination, I watch as his chest heaves and his cheeks puff from his breathing. His eyes flutter closed, and I realize he’s going to shift soon. Daylight is only a few minutes away.
He lets out another groan. It must be arduous—the shifting and breaking of bones, the stretching, and reforming of tendons and muscles.
Realizing he is at the mercy of his body and risking my well-being on the hope he can’t attack me now, I quietly slide open the kennel door and lay my cape over him. Perhaps it will make the transition easier.
Closing and locking it once more, I yawn. Stacking pillows near the cage and grabbing an old afghan, I make a bed beside him.
He settles under the cape, and I promptly fall asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
“What’s going on? Why am I…? Oh no, not this again. How?”
I jerk awake in time to see Ren dragging my cape over him. Forced to crouch, his head smacks the top of the kennel. Muscles ripple, and I get the chance to examine the intricate tribal tattoo in more detail.
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