Wolf's Bane

by Nancey Cummings

  “He should have been buried in his family plot,” she said, surprised by the vehemence in her voice. Luis knew her feelings regarding Tristan, but few others did.

  “I suppose it is educational.”

  She huffed, not bothering to hide her feelings behind a mask of politeness. “It is a farce. Tristan was a person, once. Whatever misfortune happened to him, he was meant to be a friend, and he deserves respect, even in death. Especially in death.”

  She couldn’t express how much it disturbed her. Slaying cursed beasts was a responsibility, a duty not done lightly. This was cruel.

  Godwin had stories that his father used to haul Tristan down to the dining room for meals. He was used as a prop for japes and tricks. It was tasteless behavior, but what should she expect from the same man who squandered away most of the family’s dwindling fortune?

  “You feel strongly, Miss Marechal. Is it compassion for the beast you feel?” Chambers watched her with interest, the light through the windows giving his eyes a hard sheen.

  “I loathe it, Colonel Chambers. It is a cruelty made for the amusement of a selfish man.” She took a breath to calm herself. “Father refuses to have it destroyed. He claims it is of historical note.” Her eyes drifted to a gap on a bookshelf, evidence of what her father did not have qualms about burning.

  Chambers approached the stuffed beast again, as if to examine it once more with this new information. From the coat’s breast pocket, he removed a pair of spectacles and slipped them on. “I agree. Whatever the intentions behind its creation, the average man seldom has a chance to meet such a creature face to face. It is unnerving, like one of those carnival mirrors.”

  About to ask him what he saw when he looked at the beast’s face, a loud shout from the window snagged her attention. It was a most intriguing sight in the courtyard.

  “Hmm, they are rather loud,” Colonel Chambers commented as he joined Solenne at the window. He stood close, the sleeve of his coat brushing against her. “No wonder I cannot hold your attention, Miss Marechal.”

  She blushed, caught observing Luis spar with Alek. It was rather vulgar to be staring at their sweaty forms, but it was equally rude of Chambers to call out her behavior.

  “The solstice is in two days. They must be ready.” She turned her back to the view in the courtyard below.

  “Yes.” A strange look crossed his face. He removed his spectacles, gently folded them, and slipped them into his coat pocket.

  “My apologies. Would you care for tea?” Solenne reached for the bell, but Chambers cut her off.

  “Thank you, but no. I understand you enjoy a good book, so I came to deliver a novel that recently arrived. Before the rush of the dance this evening, you understand.” Chambers pulled a blue cloth-bound volume from his pocket. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

  “Is that the Seventh Evil?” she asked, interest piqued. “They say the mystery is quite riveting, and it is impossible to solve until the end.”

  “Indeed. It is rather scandalous. Do not inform your father that I am in the habit of supplying respectable young women with less than edifying reading material.” His smile was sharp, too angular, as if he had too many teeth for his face. In the distance, Tristan lurked just over his shoulder.

  Solenne gladly accepted the book, cracking the spine and running an appreciative hand down the creamy, smooth pages. “This is a true delight, Colonel Chambers.” She had read every book in the family’s library two or three times, more if the book was a favorite. She had read Confinement of Twilight to tatters. Fortunately, when the book would finally disintegrate, she had the contents memorized.

  “Your library is most impressive, however. I fear my humble contribution rather brings down the tone,” he said, scanning the walls of books next to her.

  A genuine smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. The Marechal library had older books, including several diaries from early colonists. Not original. Goodness, no. Books that precious belonged in the national library in Founding, not gathering dust in a country house on the edges of civilization. They had diaries dating back that far written by long-ago ancestors, and a rather unique volume on herbs and flowers that the colonists must have brought from the old world because Solenne had never seen such a thing as a daffodil. The illustration made it seem like a wondrous thing, like a little drop of sunshine. Those priceless books were kept on a shelf well away from sunlight.

  Selling the library or even part of the collection could fix the family’s finances, and she knew that Godwin had sold a volume or two of historical note to Mr. Wodehouse. Emptying their wonderful library filled her with dread, but soon, they might not have a choice.

  “Fresh stories are a challenge to find,” she said, turning her attention back to Chambers.

  “Then I am delighted to be of service.” He smiled again. Perhaps it was the morning light or her happy glow at the unexpected gift, but the smile transformed his rather dull face into something pleasant. The light picked out the silver at his temples, giving him a distinguished air.

  She…she could do this. Chambers was not unappealing. She could be amiable and amenable and all those other bland qualities men looked for in wives. He brought her books, so he couldn’t be all bad. She could…flirt.

  She forced a smile and batted her lashes.

  “Is there something in your eye?” he asked.

  Not the reaction she expected.

  A shout from the courtyard snagged her attention and Solenne dropped her flirtation.

  Luis rubbed a shoulder but appeared unharmed. Alek lowered his weapon. Somehow, he lost his linen shirt but wore an undershirt. Sodden with sweat, it clung to him.

  Solenne gasped.

  Old scars ran up and down his bare arms. He wore a silver necklace around his neck. The ornamentation was barely noticeable except for the irritated red skin, almost like an allergic reaction.

  Chambers cleared his throat.

  With a reluctant sigh, she closed the window, shutting out the sounds of Luis and Alek’s sparring.

  Solenne knew it was unfair to compare Colonel Chambers to Alek, as the man was a good ten years older and injured. He might not be a prized specimen of athletic prowess, but he was considerate, and he brought her books; that counted for a great deal in her estimation of him.

  In the days since her conversation with Alek in her workshop, he avoided her, going so far as to leave a room when she entered. If he wished to avoid her, she did not wish to cause him undue stress. Alek was there for Luis, really, not for her. No matter what her traitorous heart wanted to believe. She could continue to stare out the window and sigh or pay attention to a respectable man who, for reasons she hardly understood, seemed to hold her in some regard.

  She turned her back to the window and smiled. “This is a very generous gift.”

  “I shan’t take up any more of your morning. Please, enjoy the book. Tell me what you think,” Chambers said with a brief nod.

  “Thank you. I shall. Colonel?”

  He paused. “Yes?”

  “Forgive me for being bold, but can I count on a dance with you at the ball tonight?”

  There. Flirtation. Mission accomplished.

  That smile again, sharp and with too many teeth. “I anticipate the event with great relish.”

  Aleksandar

  He could feel Solenne’s eyes on him. She was as subtle now as she had been when they were clumsy adolescents. Physically, she had changed dramatically from the gangly girl he remembered. She finally grew into her feet and stood nearly as tall as him. She had strength in her, and not just in her body. Her eyes shone with an inner light as transfixing as the moon’s cold glow. She had always been pretty with dark hair and velvety gray eyes, but necessity had refined her down to her truest self.

  She was a jewel under pressure, and she shone.

  Luis’ blade smacked him on his shoulder. He hissed in pain, dodging a second blow. The bite, the one that cursed him, fluctuated as the full moon approached. The
flesh grew tender and red. Add the constant ting from the silver chain around his neck, and Alek was in a brittle mood.

  “Pay attention,” Godwin barked from the side.

  Right. Focus.

  The window above closed. He relaxed. Days from the full moon, his beast wanted nothing more than to rub itself against Solenne. Well, the beast wanted more, but he tried his best to remain a gentleman.

  Solenne was from a noble family. She was much too good for a cursed man such as himself. As much as Godwin embraced Alek and welcomed him back into his home, calling him old friend and son, he knew that to be a flimsy thing. If he approached Godwin about his intentions toward Solenne, he’d be tossed out on his ear.

  Again.

  Time had not lessened the sting.

  Blades clashed. Alek pressed Luis, driving him back. The younger man had superior skills, and what training he lacked could only be gained from experience. Alek knew that was his responsibility, to hunt the beast and give Luis enough time to learn how to defend his territory on his own.

  Luis fought brashly, rushing and using all his energy. He’d never last in a fight, and hunting under a full moon often took all night. All Alek had to do to win the bout was endure, and he had years of practice. He endured burning pain every month. He endured the call of the beast, craving the hunt that ended in sweet, fresh blood.

  He endured the way the beast whined for its mate.

  Anger fueled his movements, growing erratic. Luis stumbled but quickly recovered. Alek did not allow the younger man to regain his footing because there were no niceties on the hunt. There was only opportunity and prey.

  Alek knocked the blade from Luis’ sloppy grip. He looked stunned, glancing at the blade far behind and back at Alek.

  He rushed, and the youth raised his arms to defend himself. The flat of the blade landed in harsh blows along Luis’ side and back. Every blow amplified his frustration. The Marechals needed him—begged for his assistance—yet Godwin warned him off his daughter.

  Solenne needed to make a good match. She could not marry a penniless hunter. More than that, he knew he shouldn’t want her. He was cursed. If any of them learned his secret, they would slit his throat, probably with an ornate silver blade passed down through the generations.

  “Enough,” Godwin shouted.

  Alek did not stop, instead tossing the sword. The man’s voice infuriated him. The silver chain around his neck stung. His bite burned. Who was Godwin to tell him to stop? Only a partly blinded old man. He would not stop.

  He slipped behind Luis, wrapping an arm around his neck and dropping the youth to the ground. A silver blade pressed against the tanned skin of his throat. Up close, Alek saw the faint stubble of several day’s growth.

  A faint line of red appeared where the edge sank into skin. His very being trembled with the desire to lick the wound clean, to let the flavor of blood blossom on his skin. If he could not have the taste of his mate on his tongue, fresh blood would suffice. It would satisfy him for a time.

  “I yield,” Luis said.

  Alek blinked, coming back to himself. He eased his grip on the dagger and stepped back.

  “Was it wrong to…should I have run?” Luis rubbed his throat, smearing the thin amount of red until it disappeared.

  “No. Never run. A beast will chase, and it will not have restraint. Instinct will demand a kill,” Alek croaked. “It is better to find a hole to defend yourself than to run.” He wiped sweat from his brow. “I think that’s enough for today. You should bathe before the dance.”

  “Poor hygiene is generally frowned upon in society,” Luis said with a grin.

  “Sure, good society, but why would you want to impress a bunch of snobs?”

  “It seems exciting. A pressure release.” Luis headed to the door, but Alek stayed behind. “Don’t you need to get ready?”

  “No. I’m not fit company for any society, good, bad or otherwise.” He ran his thumb along the edge of the silver dagger, the pure metal burning.

  If he ever forgot why he needed to distance himself from Solenne, that was reason enough.

  Chapter 9

  Solenne

  Boxon

  Vervain Hall

  * * *

  A dance before the summer solstice.

  It seemed the height of arrogance as those affected by the curse would be increasingly vulnerable to the effects of the nexus. A dance filled with light and music and laughter and bodies crushed together might prove too tempting for a beast on the prowl.

  Still, that didn’t stop Solenne from donning her best frock, a lightweight, seashore green-striped dress. Luis wore a black tailcoat and matching trousers left over from his school days that did not look entirely academic. Despite the sleeves being a touch too short, she thought her brother looked rather dashing and did not comment on the small dagger he put in his boot.

  Godwin came down the stairs dressed smartly in evening clothes, a black patch over his eye and wielding a silver-tipped cane. Solenne hadn’t been sure if he would attend, but felt glad he went to the effort.

  Alek stated he had no plans to attend and did not enjoy standing about in a hot room to be scrutinized like a show animal. As Solenne left the house, he watched her with covetous eyes. When she caught him looking, he turned his attention back to his book.

  Vervain Hall was lit against the night like a beacon. Braziers lined the path to the front. Every door and window had been opened to the night air. Lively music and laughter drifted out.

  Inside, they had pushed the furniture back and cleared space for dancing. People milled at the edges, nibbling on food and nursing drinks. If the chatter stopped when the Marechals entered, it was only a moment. This was the first time Godwin had been out in society—such as it was in Boxon—since the attack.

  The dance had all the makings of a perfect summer evening, but something lurked at the edges, like a storm waiting to break, giving the atmosphere a manic feel. The revelers felt it, laughing too loud, drinking too much, and dancing with an almost desperate enthusiasm.

  Solenne scanned the crowd, taking in the familiar faces and half hoping to spy Alek brooding in a corner. Of course he wasn’t lurking about in corners with potted plants, waiting to dance the night away with her. That was wishful thinking. She promised Colonel Chambers a dance, and the sooner she completed that task, the better.

  She spotted Charlotte in a vivid yellow dress with stiff white lace trim at the bodice and cap sleeves, standing next to her father by the terrace doors. She waved to her friend, who made her way across the room.

  Luis stood awkwardly next to her, his hands twitching and flexing like he didn’t know how to stand.

  “Perhaps you should ask Miles to dance,” she offered.

  “He said he did not plan to attend. Said he wasn’t the proper company to keep,” Luis mumbled. “I had hoped he would change his mind, but no.”

  Ah. She understood that feeling exactly.

  “Oh, don’t you two look a lovely pair?” Charlotte said. Luis mumbled a reply, blushing.

  “As do you,” Solenne said truthfully. Charlotte’s curls were on full display, tumbling and shining in the candlelight.

  “How many dances have you promised? I haven’t agreed to any,” Charlotte said in a rush. “Papa says I’m being foolish, but Jase invited me. A personal invitation. Do you think that means something?” She fluttered a yellow silk fan, emphasizing her words.

  “Just one dance,” Solenne answered when Charlotte paused for breath.

  “To Aleksandar, yes? Where is he? I bet he looks so dashing. Oh, as do you, Luis. The color suits you.”

  Colonel Chambers and his nephew approached. “Miss Marechal, Miss Wodehouse,” he said with a nod. “No Aleksandar?”

  “He sends his regrets,” she said, which was a lie because Alek’s exact words were much more colorful and contained zero regret.

  “Not a worry. More pretty partners for us, eh, Jase?”

  Charlotte laughed lightly, flu
ttering her fan. Luis tugged at the nearly too-short coat sleeves.

  Jase looked bored at a dance held for his benefit. “If you say so. Country dances are a quaint amusement.”

  “But the company is so charming,” Chambers said.

  “If you can call this boorishly rustic aesthetic charming.”

  Solenne rocked back on her heels, stunned at Jase’s rudeness. “I’m sure you’re accustomed to grander affairs in Founding,” she said, trying her best to keep her tone polite and not boorishly rustic.

  “Not likely,” Chambers said, giving a hearty slap to Jase’s back. “This one was too sickly. Foul air in Founding, you know. Too much smoke in the air. Country life may be slower, but you get to enjoy it. Now, would you lovely ladies care to dance?”

  He extended his hand to Solenne, who felt obliged to take it. Charlotte beamed at Jase, who gave her a cool look. “Pardon me, I’m feeling sickly, and nothing entices me to dance at the moment. My apologies, Miss Wodehouse.”

  He turned on his heel and left, leaving Charlotte quite red in the face.

  Smoothly, Chambers offered his arm to Charlotte. “Forgive my nephew, Miss Wodehouse. He had a coughing fit earlier and is always in a foul mood after.”

  “Is he quite recovered? Should he be out?” Charlotte asked, because of course she was more concerned about Jase Parkell’s wellbeing than her own insulted pride. Not to worry. Solenne was more than capable of being insulted for the pair of them.

  “Confinement is seldom beneficial, in my opinion. He needs to exercise his lungs beyond expelling hot air. Now, please have pity on an old man. I don’t know if I can keep up with a young lady such as yourself.”

  Solenne rolled her eyes, but Charlotte laughed, Jase’s rude snub forgotten.

  She felt content to watch the crowd and make pleasant conversation. Luis watched the dancers with raw greed on his face.

  Suitable partners came over, traded pleasantries, but Luis never seemed to make the leap to asking them to dance, despite the clear yearning on his face.