The Wolf Witch

by Kara Jorgensen

  “Did they hurt?” she asked softly, her fingers entangling in his hair.

  “More than you would expect, especially the one on my head. I had a horrid headache for days.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Because I thought it would be a story to boast about, that I was shot and lived to tell the tale, but when you lose control of the narrative, some things are better kept to those you trust.”

  “You trust me?”

  Emmeline stroked the trace of the old wound. When she reached the far side of his ear, she cupped the back of his head. Nadir looked up at her, his lips parted as she let the flare of energy well up inside her. She wanted to trust him enough to show him the flames. Part of her desperately wanted him to see what he was getting into, but what if after all this, he didn’t want to deal with a girl who spoke to ghosts and sparked fire? A girl so full of secrets even she hadn’t uncovered most of them. As his arm encircled her waist and the other came to rest on her side, she wanted to be nothing more than Emmeline.

  “I already told you, I trust you with everything,” he whispered before his lips met hers.

  ***

  Emmeline awoke to a loud crash in the hall. For a moment, she lay very still until her inching hand reached across the bed only to find empty sheets.

  “Nadir?”

  “Ssshhh, someone is in the hall,” he whispered behind her. He stood in the rumpled trousers and shirt he had worn to the meeting the night before. “Get dressed, quickly.”

  Scrambling out of the blankets, Emmeline pulled her traveling dress out of the wardrobe along with clean undergarments. The warmth from Nadir’s touch the night before had been replaced with cold terror as she threw off her nightgown. The sounds across the hall weren’t human. There were growls and the scratching noises of claws on woodwork. A heavy blow landed against the door as she buttoned up the front of her dress. Nadir held the wardrobe to the door as the doorknob jiggled and something slammed against the other side, rocking it on its hinges. Emmeline turned the gas lamps low. If they broke in to the room, she would call on her fire. But where was Wesley? Looking between the vanity and the window, Emmeline thought about tossing the chair through the glass, but they were on the second story and the drop would probably hurt at least one of them.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Emmeline closed her eyes and let her walls down. She could sense the spirits of her ancestors hovering near. She called to them and sensed the hint of the forest she smelled on Wesley. Help us, she prayed. Please. Summon your strength and help us and I promise we’ll stop them. The creature’s deep breaths moved back into the hall as the sun began to chase away the shadows. Nadir’s arms shook by the time Emmeline reached his side. She pressed her back to the wooden doors and focused on the energy radiating around her. Help us.

  Down the hall a voice rang from the foyer. The monster’s nails scraped across the carpet and wood as it turned. It sniffed at the bottom of the door before bounding down the hall and disappearing around the bend. For a long moment, Emmeline and Nadir didn’t move. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they waited and listened, but when the creature didn’t reappear, they slowly stepped away from the wardrobe. Emmeline looked at Nadir and found her own fear mirrored in his features. They had to survive until the cab got there, but with a wearg roaming the house, she wasn’t certain how they would.

  “We should go to the woods and wait. If we can make it to the juncture at the end of the road, we can wait for the steamer there or see if we can catch a passing driver and get out of here,” Nadir said softly as he threw his robe over his clothing and gathered his jewelry into his pocket. “We can get our things later.”

  “Do you know how to get to the road?”

  “I have a map in my room. Pack what you need, and we’ll get going.”

  Nodding, Emmeline pulled on her coat and boots. She had brought few things of value with her. The jewelry was expensive, as were her gowns, but she wouldn’t miss them. From its place in her drawer, she collected her grimoire and put on both of her scarves. When she was ready, Nadir carefully pushed the wardrobe out of the way and opened the door.

  The hall was eerily silent. Along the wallpaper and paneling were long claw marks and muddy footprints. The door to Nadir’s room stood ajar, but even in the dim morning light, Emmeline could make out the chaos within. The vanity had been overturned along with his dresser and trunk. The bed stood in tatters, the mattress spilled onto the floor where part of his blue suit had been torn to slivers. Nadir regarded the mess without a word, but Emmeline could see the anger tightening his lips and twisting his features. It felt personal.

  Scattered among the clothes and blankets were bits of paper. Emmeline hoped it wasn’t his manuscript. As he sorted through the clothing to find a waistcoat and jacket, she picked up what parchment she could find. Most were the pages she had seen him working on in the library. They appeared to be an early draft of a new work and most were luckily whole. Grabbing a handful of paper that seemed to have been tossed from his trunk, Emmeline’s mouth went dry at the purple wax seal affixed to the back of one. She had seen that seal attached to the back of missive after missive following Lord Hale’s death and the incident in the park. How could she forget the strange creature imprinted in it? Part human, part bird, part fish with Obscuris vera involvens written beneath. Truth in darkness. Bitterness crawled up her throat as she pulled the stiff paper from the envelope.

  Dear Mr. Talbot,

  We have secured you an invitation to a party in Gloucestershire at the estate of one, Colonel Stephen Roulet. You are to attend as you are, observe the guests, and report back to us with any peculiarities or anything of note you hear secondhand. You are not to engage or try to stop anything that goes on at the event. Do not become involved. You are to be a passive observer. Your usual fee will be posted to your account when you forward your report to us. Your invitation will arrive by post within a fortnight. Report to your contact if you are unable to attend.

  We will be in touch,

  The Hierophant

  Emmeline’s hands shook as she stood. Her ribs contracted until she could scarcely breathe and for a moment, speech escaped her as she watched Nadir check his grey jacket for tears.

  “How dare you,” she seethed, the letter crunching in her palm.

  “How dare I what?” he asked, turning, but as his eyes fell upon the letter, he blanched. “Emmeline, it isn’t what you think.”

  “You work for them. Why didn’t you tell me you work for those people? Do you know what they’ve done to me? What they put me through?”

  Raising his hands in defense, Nadir repeated softly, “It isn’t what you think.”

  “Then, what is it? Is that why you started bringing me flowers and being nice to me? Were you reporting back to them about me?”

  “No! No, I would never. I just go to parties and silly table-rapping lectures. All I do is tell them what I hear and they pay me for the information.”

  Emmeline released a ragged, bitter laugh. “So you’re a spy for the Interceptors. Is that why you came to have a reading with me? Were you going to tell them I wasn’t a charlatan? Is that how I ended up in their sights?”

  Opening his mouth to speak, Nadir fell silent and turned away. “I did tell them about you. They asked me to go, and I took Leona because she was still in mourning over her horrid lover. I did tell them I thought you were the real thing, but that is all. Once we became friends, I never said anything more.”

  “But when was that, Nadir? In Rome? When you ran into me in Paris? Or was it when I returned to London?”

  Nadir raked his fingers through his hair and sank onto the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry! I don’t know what to say. I stopped talking about you once I got to know you. Besides there was nothing to report.”

  “You still didn’t tell me,” she snapped.

  “Because by the time I realized you would be upset, I was afraid this would happen. I didn’t want you to leave because I re
alized I cared deeply for you, Em.”

  Emmeline froze. Her heart caught in her throat, but she stuffed it back down along with the hot tears threatening to spew out. She had started to care about him too, but no more. She was right. She never should have let him in. Little good it ever did her.

  “I’m glad last night ended where it did. At least I’ll have less to regret. Find your own way home, Nadir,” she said, her voice deceptively calm as she turned and retreated down the hall as fast as her feet would carry her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Monsters

  When Emmeline didn’t hear Nadir chase after her, she didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Hot rage pumped through her, propelling her blindly through the halls until she found herself before the wall of bookcases in the library. Sinking against the shelves, Emmeline silently let her tears flow. He had betrayed her. Nadir Talbot wasn’t the man she thought he was. Every bit of gossip, every quip, every compliment had been called into question. What information had he pulled from her with his charming smiles and cultivated nonchalance? The Interceptors probably knew more about her than she did. Emmeline pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She could never return to the same social circles again. Just when she was beginning to become comfortable, she would need to reestablish herself somewhere else, otherwise she would see him constantly and be reminded of all she had lost. And he would report her every move to those people, she added bitterly.

  The sun peeked through the trees, casting diffuse, dancing shadows over her cheeks and hands. She needed to get up. She needed to find Wesley and get out of there. Slowly rising, Emmeline gulped down a few mouthfuls of air and used her sleeve to wipe away the evidence of her feelings. As she turned to leave, she froze at a figure lingering in the doorway. Before the man even stepped into the light, she knew it wasn’t Nadir or Wesley. She sensed the wrongness first; it rolled off him like a miasma and nudged at her senses. After being around Lady Rose, she knew what bad magic felt like, and it sent gooseflesh rushing over her arms.

  “Good morning, Mr. Elsworth,” she said primly, hoping the scant light would hide her reddened, puffy eyes. “Are the preparations ready?”

  “They are, but you won’t be joining us.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. If you want us to remain—”

  “Don’t play the fool with me, Miss Jardine. I don’t know what you and Talbot are planning, but you won’t be getting in our way.”

  Frost whispered from her lips as the air around her rapidly cooled. “What will you do? You can’t kill us. We’ll be missed.”

  “You,” he began, stepping toward her, matching her step for step as she backed away, “I still need. Talbot, I will dispose of as I planned.”

  Before Emmeline could move, his magic seized her. It constricted around her ribs and throat, sucking the air from her until she saw spots. Grasping for her fire, Emmeline tried to spark her hands, but she couldn’t think or see long enough to connect the circuit. The pain dazzled her senses as her fingers clawed for Elsworth’s face and clothing. He cried out behind her, and for a brief moment, his hold loosened. Emmeline whirled around and caught his lip with her knuckle. Blood appeared at the split, but before she could catch her breath, his eyes darkened. His insidious magic snaked around her, blocking her vision and ears until she could sense nothing but the choking taste of feculent air. A stale breeze blew past her cheek as the walls closed in. With a shove, the world crashed around her, and she was falling.

  Emmeline skidded down the stone steps, gripping at the narrow, eroded treads as they passed beneath her hands. Halfway down, she wedged her legs against the walls and her heart slowed with relief. The room was black, but this time, it wasn’t due to magic. Feeling along the wall, Emmeline slowly rose on her aching legs and caught her breath. She reached deep into her chest and traced the path of fire to her fingers. A small flame bloomed on her palm, illuminating the narrow steps cut into the earth and the mortared walls entombing her within. Trotting up the steps, Emmeline felt along the wall for a handle or edge like in the crypt but found nothing. Frantically running her probing fingers between each stone, Emmeline’s breath came in ragged jolts.

  No. No. No. Not now. She had to get out. She had to help Nadir. She had to. How many people would she lose that she loved? A sob broke from Emmeline’s throat as she pounded on the wall. Pain reverberated through the bones of her arms, but she didn’t care. A furious scream split through her ribs, sending a flame shooting up from her balled fist, but no one came.

  ***

  Nadir sighed, tucking the wad of papers Emmeline had gathered into his coat pocket. God, he was a fool. He should have said something. No, he should have quit helping them when he realized he was on the wrong side, but the money was good for not doing anything he wouldn’t have done on his own. He hadn’t thought he would make enemies that way. Hell, he hadn’t thought visiting his cousin to take in some sea air would have gotten him shot, but it did. Creeping down the hall, Nadir listened for any sign of beast or human. When he was certain there was no one, he slipped through the servants’ door and ran down the stairs and through the twisting halls below. The house was painfully silent and every footfall rang like an anvil. The servants’ hall should have been filled with people bustling to care for their masters or prepare breakfast, but it was empty. The hearth stood cold and the passages deserted. The first reaches of the morning sun shifted through the high windows. Unlocking the door with trembling fingers, Nadir braced himself for the long trek back to civilization.

  If he cut through the woods with some speed, he should reach the main road within an hour. It would be several more before he found help, but at least he would be away from the house. Anger half-heartedly flared inside him at what they had done to his steamer. He wanted to be angry, but it was hard when the look on Emmeline’s face as she held his orders had imprinted on his mind. He had never seen her so upset. Sad, yes. But this was different. He had never betrayed anyone before. For all his foolishness, he had never philandered on any of his partners, and he had never gone out of his way to hurt anyone. Emmeline looked as if he had purposely caught her heart only to crush it under his boot.

  Nadir picked through the brush with his cane, ignoring the tug of branches and fallen trees against his clothing. He should have told her after they found Doughty. He certainly should have said something after they realized Wesley Bisclavret had been wrong and Mrs. March was dead. They had been eyes for the Interceptors as well, seemingly more deeply involved in the mystical side of things, but he should have known something was amiss when they all turned up together at one small gathering. Plus, the letter hadn’t sounded the same. He should have ignored the invitation then or said something to the agent who occasionally met with him, but he couldn’t remember their name and he hadn’t cared enough to try.

  Nadir stopped beside a broken tree trunk to gain his bearings. The house still loomed like a giant over the forest. He should go back. Leaving Emmeline had been a foolish idea no matter how mad she was. She would understand the need for safety in numbers, and perhaps he could convince her he was leaving the Interceptors for good by the time they reached London. He cursed himself under his breath. He sure as hell wasn’t going back for more invitations now.

  As Nadir crossed through the trees to the trail, a twig snapped in the shadows between him and the house. “Wesley?” he called. “Is that you?”

  Standing in the middle of the path, Nadir strained to see, but as a figure emerged yards away, he knew it wasn’t Wesley. Gernier stood watching him, his face blotchy but his features alight in a triumphant smirk. Nadir drew himself up to his haughtiest air and watched the man approach.

  “Is Elsie ready to depart?” Nadir asked in a languid drawl. “I thought I’d take my morning constitutional before being cooped up in a cab all day.”

  Nadir didn’t like the look in the other man’s eye, but he kept his stance loose and his fingers curled around the handle of his sword cane.
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  “They say your people are stupid. I’m apt to believe it if you’re any indication.”

  “And what people are those? Artists? Writers?”

  Gernier released a phlegmy laugh and drew closer. “You were meant to be a sacrifice for me. Instead, Bourgot got March, and I got a deer. Now, I’m taking what I’m owed.”

  Gernier’s pupils blew out until his eyes became a sea of black. Between one second and the next, his teeth grew and his body lurched forward as if at war with itself. Cloth tore, but before Nadir could see Gernier transform, he ran heedlessly back into the woods as fast as his legs would carry him.

  ***

  Wesley smelled the wearg before he saw it. He had been walking back to the house when he spotted Nadir Talbot sprinting down the path, deeper into the forest. At first he thought something had happened to Emmeline until the pungent odor brought him back to kneeling over the body in London. This time, the wearg was close. Casting off his clothing, Wesley let the wolf take over. In seconds, they were running. He knew where the monster would corner Talbot. They had found a body there once, and it was about to happen again. Wesley’s wolf pumped its legs harder at the sound of the beast careening through the underbrush. Broken twigs whisked by, and all Wesley could see was a blur of fur as they avoided the raining mess. He silently prayed he wasn’t too late.

  By the time, he reached the clearing, Nadir Talbot stood in the center with a sword cane held aloft like a cudgel. His face was white, but his jaw was set in grim determination as the beast circled him. Wesley had never expected the wearg to be so large. It was nearly three times his size and covered in thick wiry hair. On the surface it was shaped like a wolf, but it had the unbridled ferocity of something otherworldly. It reminded him of an etching he had seen of a saber-toothed cat, far too large and menacing for the world of men. A wet, guttural growl issued from its throat as it pulled its gums back to reveal a set of vicious teeth. Wesley felt the wolf falter, but he gave it a nudge. They had to do something. If they could bring down bandits and buffalo, then they could bring down this.