The Darkly Stewart Mysteries: The Woman Who Tasted Death

by DG Wood

  “A deer, huh?”

  “A deer. But, you’re right. There are those of us who have hunted what we shouldn’t. You saw me punish such a wolf. Sam returned to us after being away for many years. Bringing you and your friends to us was a way he sought forgiveness for his sins. There were those ready to give that forgiveness.”

  “Reverend MacIntyre?”

  “No. He’s all fire and brimstone. An eye for an eye and all that.”

  “On Sam’s first moon run, he disappeared for a week. After returning to us, the town learned of a group of boy scouts massacred while camping almost one hundred miles away. Devoured.”

  “Why didn’t you kill him then?”

  “Would you have killed the child or given rehabilitation a shot?”

  “He killed again?”

  “In his late teens. A man, his pregnant wife, and their two children. We didn’t see him again until you showed up. I carried out his sentence a little later than intended.”

  My God, thought Darkly. The young man she had seen in the campsite with her family. Could that have been Sam?

  “So, why did Victoria--?” She cut her own self off. “Her first moon run?”

  “That’s right. She killed someone. An old trapper as isolated as we are, who could just have easily killed her if he wasn’t half out of his mind. But, he was a human being nonetheless.”

  “Victoria killed Sam, I mean, tried to kill Sam, to show you all whose side she was on.” Darkly’s skills of deduction were putting her one step ahead of Buck.

  “That she was one of us. Not like him.” Buck confirmed Darkly’s reasoning.

  The bitter taste of coffee and death came back to Darkly. She had tasted her murder, but it had dissipated as Sam’s body had healed. She was willing to bet that despite the derision that flew between Buck and Victoria, he was the one who demanded she be given another chance, even after Sam had shown an inability to change his nature.

  Buck got up.

  “You should head back to the hotel now. It’s a big day tomorrow.”

  “Oh?”

  Buck pulled off his cowboy boots.

  “I’m going to take my clothes off now, Darkly.”

  “What?”

  “I’m Zachariah’s godfather. Since the trapper incident, all first moon runs are observed, from a distance, by the godfather of the child.”

  “To judge their true character.”

  “That’s right.”

  Buck was now unbuttoning his shirt, and Darkly fought the instinct to follow suit and remove an article of her own clothing.

  “You really should go now.” Buck smiled.

  “How do you know I won’t make a run for it?”

  “Go ahead. But remember, I can run a hell of a lot faster as a wolf. I will catch up. Do you have any silver bullets on you?”

  Buck winked and turned away from her to finish undressing. Darkly began walking back to town, but couldn’t resist a look back.

  “What’s tomorrow?”

  Buck was already running down the hill. Darkly watched his naked human form disappear in tall grass.

  Geraldine had taken a gamble in a couple of different ways. Would she be able to overpower Gus? She couldn’t carry out the plan she had in mind while in wolf form, that was for sure. She had just over two hours before Zachariah began his first moon run. She could do this.

  The crowbar was under her diner counter. She just needed to get Gus inside, make sure he was distracted, and then hit him over the head. One, two, three. Simple.

  As they made their way down alongside the river, Geraldine explained to Gus that Darkly had fended off Buck’s advances. He became angry, turned, and attacked her. Geraldine had shot and injured Buck, who ran off into the woods. Darkly was in her diner now, recovering. But, she’d lost a lot of blood.

  Geraldine hoped she sounded sincere. Lying excited her, but she couldn’t gauge how good she was at convincing others she was telling the truth.

  When Gus ran into the empty diner, he found exactly what Geraldine had wanted him to find. In a booth, a pile vaguely the shape of a body was completely covered in a blanket.

  “Oh, Christ. Darkly? Darkly?”

  Gus only made it a few steps, when Geraldine raised the crow bar above his skull and threw it down like it was a mallet and she a strongman at a carnival. She hoped she hadn’t killed him outright. That wouldn’t do. No, that wouldn’t do at all.

  Now to retrieve the venison steaks she was defrosting in the sink. Suddenly, old Jasper stepped out of the Men’s room, whistling. He shuffled up to Geraldine, carefully stepped over Gus’s body and took a seat at the counter.

  “Yep, I said they’d be staying for awhile. I think I’ll have a hot cup of coffee, Geraldine.”

  “We’re out of coffee, Jasper.”

  “What is this town coming to?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Buck knew he had gotten to Darkly. And she had gotten to him. He had always loved the boy he called his son as his own flesh and blood. They even looked alike in many ways. But, just as Trey would now start a family with Victoria, he felt the need to begin again.

  Buck became the wolf in the tall grass, catching the scent of his godson ahead of him. But there was something else, the scent of deer. Buck could tell it was already dead. His nostrils were that keen.

  Unlike the last run, Buck did not allow himself to lose his human identity entirely. It had taken many years of practice, but Buck had learned how to keep parts of his human mind active during a moon run. This was not always desired, as complete release was bliss, but this time he would hold on for Zachariah’s sake. There was a job to do. He was here to supervise, to protect, to judge. This was a time for the sheriff of Wolf Woods as much as the animal in the night.

  Buck tasted the droplet of blood on the grass. It wasn’t deer. He knew that in an instant. The taste was unmistakable.

  Wyatt was disowned. And Alpha no more. Geraldine had pleaded, cried, and torn out her hair for him. But he had killed one of their own who came in peace. What else could the sheriff, Wyatt and Buck’s father, do? His position dictated he could not show favoritism. If he did, his, and then Buck’s position, would become untenable.

  Catharine was now under Luther’s and Buck’s protection. Buck would raise Wyatt’s child that Catherine was carrying as his own. He had promised his father he would, in order to pay for the shame their family must now endure.

  Word was spreading like a wild fire through the town. Catharine Darkly, or Stewart, as she now called herself, brought with her a cure. She had also brought with her a daughter, who had escaped. Young Buck had been entrusted with bringing the girl safely back to Wolf Woods. He caught her scent in the woods and then lost it at the edge of the great highway that had tamed a continent.

  All he tasted was two bloody prints in the asphalt, where the child’s feet had walked, the skin on her feet scraped away from miles of distance traveled.

  Buck approached with caution. Zachariah was young, but he could still be dangerous, especially with a dead deer to protect. Buck emerged into a bed of pressed grass, where Zachariah was gnawing on Gus’s leg. Gus was both blindfolded and gagged. Tied to his body, were cutlets of meat. Thankfully for Gus, he was unconscious.

  Buck immediately tackled Zachariah. His godson was completely lost to a blood lust and fought back viciously. Buck was much stronger and bigger, and eventually pinned the younger wolf to the ground. Overwhelmed by his first moon run, Zachariah ran from the tall grass with his tail between his legs.

  Gus was now in a bed in Doc Ross’s home, where the doctor and Mrs. Ross could provide twenty-four-hour care. He was in a coma, and Doc wasn’t sure he was coming out of it. Being this far from civilization, all he could hope for was that Gus’s body might heal itself. Yet, Gus was no werewolf. Not yet.

  In Buck’s one and
only jail cell, Geraldine sat on a cot. She was knitting a child’s booties. She taunted Buck, who sat at his desk, staring into space.

  “You said to separate them. I was giving you what you wanted. I eliminated your competition.”

  Buck ignored her.

  “Are you going to banish me, Sheriff? Execute me? A silver bullet to my head like Sam?” Geraldine asked with complete calm.

  Buck broke his silence. “Have you finally lost your mind?” Buck didn’t look at Geraldine when he spoke to her.

  Doc Ross and Reverend MacIntyre walked through the door. Geraldine turned her attention to them.

  “Did you know they’re Mounties sent here to flush us out? Then kill us. You know how I know? The boots always give them away. Every couple of years, one will pass through town, stop in at my diner, ask what’s been going on. Same as last time you asked me, Constable. Nothing. So goes the life of a small town that isn’t even on the map.”

  “If you knew what they were, why didn’t you say something to me sooner, Geraldine?” asked Buck.

  Geraldine said nothing in return.

  “Is this true, Sheriff?” asked Reverend MacIntyre.

  Buck wasn’t in the mood to humor anyone. “That we’re not on the map?”

  Geraldine irritated Buck by holding up the booties, pretending to examine her work.

  Buck finally answered the Reverend. “They are Mounties, and no, they aren’t here to hunt us.”

  “How can you be so sure? Perhaps being in such a hurry to impress the girl, you forgot to interrogate her?” Score another point for Geraldine.

  Buck knew what Geraldine was doing here. She was trying to instill doubt in the minds of Doc Ross and the Reverend. There wasn’t much Buck could do against her if she had their support.

  “How is he, Doc?” Buck asked.

  Doc just shook his head.

  “That’s how you interrogate someone, isn’t it, Geraldine? You feed them to the Doc’s kin.” Buck knew that thought would get Doc back on his side.

  Geraldine was about to drop a bomb.

  “Have you taken a close look at her yet, Buck? I mean a really close look at her. Or does she not let you get that close? She’s Catharine’s daughter.”

  The Reverend coughed.

  “Catharine who?” Doc Ross asked.

  “Catharine Stewart,” Geraldine answered, cool as a salamander. “Are there any other Catharine’s you know, Doc? You remember her maiden name, Darkly. A good Scottish name that. Your children were too old to wear those instruments of torture, Doc. But, I’ll never forget what Heaven’s Rain looks like. Victoria cried every minute she wasn’t asleep from the exhaustion that “the cure” brought her. Thank God she’s too young to remember it. The pain will become bearable in time, Catharine told us. “It may even become comforting, as it has for my own daughter,” she said. Oh, it prevented the transformations, but how many went mad because of it? How many became outcasts in their own homes? There’s no doubt it affected my daughter’s disposition. No doubt.”

  The remembrance of horrors past forced Reverend MacIntyre to take a seat. “I remember the screams,” he said.

  “Hadn’t we suffered enough, Reverend? All those years in the wilderness?”

  Geraldine would play the Reverend like a fiddle, the soppy old fool. She’d play them all.

  “Stop it, Geraldine,” Buck spit into the air.

  Buck knew better than to debate the issue. He always saw Geraldine’s attacks coming and was always powerless to fight them. The guilt he felt for his brother’s actions that left two women without a husband and two daughters without a father, it would always give Geraldine the upper hand.

  The Reverend rocked in his chair, clutching his temples. “Suffer the little children.”

  “Let’s not bring this up again. The cure was abandoned by everyone,” Buck reminded them. “End of story.”

  “Except for one, Buck. She kept taking the cure on her own. God knows how she did it, but she did. Imagine what her mental state must be like now? Homicidal?”

  Buck threw the mug he kept on his desk hard against the bars of Geraldine’s cell.

  “Enough!”

  The mug shattered into dozens of pieces. Doc stepped between Buck and Geraldine, placing a fatherly hand of restraint on Buck’s shoulder.

  Geraldine picked a thin shard of the mug out of her cheek. A pinprick of blood oozed forth.

  “She bears the scars of torture, Buck. Willingly. Your future mate is touched, Sheriff.”

  Buck, Doc, and the Reverend continued on with their discussion in Doc’s office. The Reverend was near hysterics.

  “We all know what happened the last time our kind put our faith in the government’s forces. Now one of our own is a collaborator? This could be the end of us. No one to carry on the quest for redemption.”

  Buck tried to be the voice of reason, but this was a debate that ran red with the blood of countless centuries.

  “That was a long time ago. We don’t have a collaborator infiltrating our ranks. You see, this is exactly what Geraldine wants us to do. Panic.”

  So, Darkly is the girl who left those bloody footprints on the highway seventeen years before, thought Buck.

  “I don’t believe she has knowledge of what she is. She merely needs to be shown, and she will embrace it,” Buck hoped out loud.

  “What do we do about the others?” Doc asked.

  “Just what we planned to do all along. We throw them a party.”

  Then, the Reverend asked what the other two were afraid to bring up.

  “What about Catharine?”

  “What about her?” Buck asked rhetorically to end the discussion.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Calmer minds prevailed. But not right away. Catharine caught a glimpse of her daughter’s eyes as she was dragged out of the RV. Wyatt’s jaws were locked over one of her ankles, and her head slammed against the metal grating on the steps leading to the outside. It ripped at her cheeks, further igniting her rage.

  She saw the wolves standing over Jack’s broken body, his wolf head separated from his wolf body. They were whimpering. Wyatt had killed one of their own, and the rest were now unsure of what to do. They were mere teenagers following Wyatt, supposed to do whatever he commanded. He would, after all, inherit the Alpha position. As Catharine watched her husband’s body return to human, she became wolf.

  Buck had done as his father ordered. He understood that sometimes killing an outsider would help his own kind survive. But that didn’t make it any more palatable. The decision was never taken lightly, and Buck’s father had supported the old ways throughout his days as sheriff. He had kept their population hidden, as much to protect the outside world as themselves. It was his sons, Wyatt and Buck, who would bring in the new age, once Wyatt was ready and wise enough to challenge him. But that day was not today. And after this night’s course of events, it would never likely come.

  Luther called off the hunt. Catharine was taken to the doctor. Her wounds would heal. What else could they do? Werewolves were the next best thing to immortal. No disease or mere injury could take them while they were alive. Only silver, fire, or beheading could cut a long life short. Old age brought a quiet death. One would slip out of town near the end, find a secluded spot at sunset, and fall asleep under a bright moon. The body would be retrieved before it was eaten by scavengers.

  Jack was dead. That could easily have been avoided. Wyatt went for his neck after he had turned. There was no denying he was a werewolf. Luther had hoped Wyatt would grow out of his propensity for acting rashly and that more responsibility would nurture restraint. It had not. Now, Wyatt must be killed or banished.

  Luther anticipated how this would go. Wyatt would attack his father. He would make his bid before the town council could pass judgment on him. Successful, Wyatt would gather his army
of youths to him, and all dissenters would be punished.

  Luther could not allow the town to fall into the hands of his eldest son. It would be their ruin. He must prepare his young son, Buck, for the war ahead. Buck was only twenty, not ready for the responsibility. He hadn’t even taken a proper mate. Wyatt had taken Geraldine, taken her from Buck, which was his right to do. He was the Alpha apparent. Buck must be made ready.

  Luther began preparing Buck for the fight that would come in weeks, not months. Wyatt was not stupid. He would not attack immediately after a display of his own weakness. He would make himself scarce and not act until the town faced its next threat, and his father’s impotent response demanded new leadership. Luther raised Buck’s status by making Catharine, and her unborn child—Wyatt’s unborn child, Buck’s responsibility.

  Catharine had turned fully and defended herself against Wyatt. It had been decades since the play fighting of her youth. She was out of shape and overwhelmed with grief for her husband. She got in a couple good bites, as Wyatt’s yelps attested to. But, he did pin her. He straddled her, forcing her to submit, with his jaws in the back of her neck. Wyatt mounted Catharine, and she howled in sorrow.

  Luther and Buck arrived at the RV to find Wyatt and his gang of thugs standing over Jack’s body. Someone had retrieved a blanket from the RV and thrown it over Catharine, who was huddled under a tree in shock. Luther ordered Buck to take Catharine to Doc Ross. Buck lifted the unresponsive woman into his arms.

  “Where were you, little brother? I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

  Buck didn’t answer Wyatt. He walked off with Catharine and left his brother to Luther.

  “Go home,” said Luther.

  Wyatt and the other young men turned to go.

  “Not you,” said Luther to Wyatt. “You’re going to bury this wolf. The wolf you murdered.”

  Luther said this loud enough for all of Wyatt’s followers to hear.

  “Murdered? I was under your orders. You told me to kill him.”