The Wolf Witch

by Kara Jorgensen

  “‘Undesirable lineages,’” he scoffed. “Is this what you and Pa were dealing with? Christ, I had no idea they were this bad.”

  “Why do you think I’m on their list of enemies?”

  “I suppose they can add ‘undesirable lineage’ to your file now,” Nadir said as he took Wesley’s seat. Catching Emmeline’s gaze, he laid his hands over hers, his thumbs rubbing in soothing circles over her own. “Are you all right? I know you don’t want to be here.”

  Emmeline forced a smile. “I’m fine, really. I just want to get out of here before they show up. I don’t want to be entangled in all of this.”

  Again hung in the air unsaid.

  “We have company,” Wesley said, angling his nose toward the door.

  Emmeline and Nadir rose as a flushed, heavy-set middle aged man entered the room with two other men flanking him in the hall. His eyes swept over each of them before landing squarely on Emmeline. He puffed and drew himself up straighter as Emmeline gave him her most disdainful scowl.

  “Miss Emmeline Jardine?”

  “Yes?”

  “Come with me. You are under arrest.”

  As the Interceptor reached for Emmeline’s arm, Nadir jerked her back. “For what?”

  “Being a werewolf sympathizer and being part of a conspiracy to overthrow the British government.”

  Emmeline stood frozen, her eyes so wide they were more white than iris. “No, you don’t understand. That isn’t us, it’s—”

  Before she could finish, Wesley hefted the naginata from its hook and raised the butt like a baton. With a sharp crack, he brought it down on the back of the man’s head.

  “One of them’s a wearg. Run!”

  Slamming the door shut on the man in the hall’s arm, Wesley hopped over the older man’s body before throwing open the door and rushing out. For a moment, Emmeline feared her eyes were deceiving her. One of the men’s bodies was being overtaken, consumed by shadows that solidified into flesh. Nadir pulled her forward and suddenly they were running at a speed that threatened to topple her if she didn’t hike up her skirts. Behind her the sounds of bodies tearing and the wet smack of flesh was broken by screams. They made it halfway down the metal stairs when the building erupted into chaos.

  People streamed into the halls from every direction, some trying to evacuate, others running toward the growling beasts. Friend and foe blended into the flow of an agitated hive, but through the pushing, Nadir’s hand stayed firmly within her own. A step ahead of them, Wesley cut through the crowd with the borrowed naginata. Emmeline tried to keep her down, to focus on her feet in front of her as the screams of terror turned into something worse. The unmistakable noise of a voice being ripped from a body shook her, but Nadir squeezed harder. Magic boomed through the air. She hadn’t believed her father and Wesley at first when they said they could smell it. Magic polluted the air like Guy Fawkes Night’s fireworks. She could taste the afterimage on her tongue, and it’s lingering resonance hummed in her bones. Fire tingled across her fingers and up her arms. Could Nadir feel its prickle? she wondered, but her thoughts were interrupted as they pushed open a door and were spat into a nearly deserted hall. Wesley fell back to her side, his head whipping toward either end of the hall.

  “Which way will give us cover?” he asked. “There’s one not far from here.”

  Emmeline looked at the massive oil painting hanging above them. A woman stood in an Elizabethan collar, her face stark white and her brown hair strung with lumpy pearls. Rain pattered in the background while a small flame hovered above her outstretched hand. Emmeline’s gaze lingered on the fire.

  “That way.”

  Following the hall, Emmeline felt the earth shifting down. The pressure in her ears grew, and as she passed a set of familiar doors, her pulse quickened. It was the training room she had found Immanuel in. Pulling open the door, she was relieved to find it empty. Along the floor were the slots for water and stones Emmeline had noticed last time. Uncovered gas fixtures lined the walls at regular intervals, but what pulled the men’s attentions were the cabinets and a massive switch along the back wall. Wesley carefully leaned the naginata against the first cabinet before pocketing a small dagger and testing the weight of a saber.

  “We should arm ourselves while we have the chance,” Wesley said, cocking his head as if listening for something. “I doubt we’ll be alone long.”

  While Nadir pulled a curved sword from a decorative scabbard, Emmeline kept her ear on the door. Wesley was right; something was coming. She sensed it more than she heard it, but she knew a predator was nearby.

  “Take something, Em. I don’t want you completely unprotected,” Nadir whispered, his eyes pleading as he pressed a long dagger into her hand.

  The weight of it nearly tipped it out of her palm, but she caught it and shoved it back at him. “Put it back, I don’t want it.”

  “Please.” The weight of his gaze bore into her. “If something happens to me or Wesley…”

  “Have I ever been defenseless?”

  Nadir looked like he wanted to say more, but at the sound of footsteps at the door, every muscle in their bodies drew taut. Darting for the switch, a small smile crept across Emmeline’s face at the hiss of gas and the stir of a breeze. The door shook on its hinges as something heavy crashed into it. Nadir and Wesley closed in around her, swords at the ready, but as the wearg finally pushed its massive head in, Emmeline shoved past them. Before Nadir could grab her, she was halfway across the room, energy crackling on her palms.

  “Stay back,” Emmeline ordered Nadir and her brother. “I can do this.”

  Emmeline’s heart stuttered in her throat as the wearg snuffled in. Never in her life had a living creature made her feel so small. It’s mouth was large enough to close around her head or take off half her leg in a single bite. The moment it saw her, its canine muzzle curled into a depraved grin. Death waited like a specter at her back, but she wouldn’t fall and neither would the others. She would make certain of it.

  The second the monster took a step, Emmeline caught her magic and pulled. Flames burst from the sconce beside them, searing the monster’s face and side. It screamed and reared back, but as it made to charge for her, Emmeline swept another bout of fire across its body. Euphoria pumped through Emmeline’s blood. Her magic sang, a symphony at her command as she twisted and pulled the flames. Wesley circled the edge of the room to land a few cautious blows to keep it occupied, but Nadir hadn’t moved from behind her. A ripple of panic coursed through her. Not from the beast but from Nadir’s stunned expression. She had never told him of the fire because she had been too afraid to see that reaction. Speaking to spirits wasn’t nearly so obvious as becoming a human torch.

  A crack twanged in her chest as she tried to anchor herself in the pattern of the floor, to catch her magic before it slipped away. Beneath her feet, the stone lurched. A fissure formed between the tiles, traveling through the mortar until it reached the beast. Wesley slashed, splitting the wearg’s face. Hissing, it stumbled away, but as it reeled back to strike, the stones under its feet shifted. Emmeline let the fear pour out of her. In her mind’s eye, she could see it. The rapid, low shuffle of rock on rock. It pulled the tiles apart until they fell away to reveal the vaulted stone beneath it. The burnt wearg stumbled, scrabbling for purchase until it went under. Wesley leapt to grab the nearest sconces, his sword tumbling into the pit as the hole slowly swallowed the room. It could swallow the whole world for all she cared.

  An arm wrapped around Emmeline’s waist as the scratch of Nadir’s beard grated against her cheek. “Let go, Em.”

  Closing her eyes and drawing in a long breath, Emmeline inhaled Nadir’s familiar scent. She focused on the solid weight of his body and exhaled until the world stilled. Nadir released a relieved sigh against her shoulder.

  “I thought you were going to bring the whole place down on our heads.”

  “A little help?” Wesley called, his arms and voice shaking.

  R
eleasing Emmeline, Nadir carefully tested the stones near the edge of the room. When they held his weight, he crossed until he stood an arm’s length from Wesley. He released one metal sconce to take Nadir’s hand, but as he released the other, he nearly stumbled into the pit where the wearg still growled and moaned beneath the stones. Nadir yanked him forward, grabbing him in a bear-hug to keep him from tumbling over the edge as another stone dropped in. Her brother frowned and peeled himself out of his grasp with a mumbled, red-cheeked thank you. Edging toward the lip of the hole, Emmeline stared down at the wearg’s body.

  Pity unfolded within her at its panting, broken body. It’s matted hair had been burnt away to reveal raw, red skin beneath, and across its face and neck were long, bloody slashes from Wesley’s sabre. Emmeline wiped the sweat from her brow and wished she had been able to finish her tea in Miss Elliot’s office.

  “Change back, now,” she ordered.

  This time, the twang of energy came slower, a discordant note that sent her heart out of rhythm. The beast’s fur fell from its flesh as bones and muscles ground under the weight of the stones atop it. Emmeline held her breath as a familiar face appeared from beneath the wearg’s snout. Verdun’s pale features peered up at them, his features marred, drawn, and glistening with perspiration.

  “Please, end me,” he choked. “I never wanted this. I came looking for you.”

  “To kill us?” Nadir said with a curl of his lip.

  “No. As a man, I tried to get to you, but Elsworth…” Verdun choked on the blood dripping into his mouth, spraying red mist onto the stones. “The monster is beyond my control. Kill me, please. I never wanted this. I just wanted to be different, but this— this isn’t what I intended.”

  “We can get you help now,” Emmeline added softly, creeping closer. “Your wounds aren’t likely fatal.”

  Verdun shook his head. “I deserve to die for what I’ve done. The monster will always be in me. I’ll always be someone’s puppet. If it isn’t Elsworth, someone else will find his talisman and use it on me.”

  “What talisman?”

  Sliding into the pit, Wesley picked up his sword from where it had wedged between the rocks. “Consider this your penance, Verdun. Tell us what Elsworth has.”

  “It’s a corrupted wolf skin pouch. He had it around his neck before. It allows him to create werewolves, but I don’t know how it works.” The wheezing in his throat grew louder until finally he released a string of coughs that crackled deep within his chest and made his eyes go so dull for a moment that Emmeline feared he had died. Sucking in a loud breath, he continued, “There’s five, including me. One’s dead, I’m fairly certain. Two soon, I hope.”

  “Three left, then, and Elsworth himself.”

  “He can make more if you aren’t careful.” He eyed Wesley, licking the blood from his lips. “A wolf-blooded man and a sacrifice is all he says he needs. He could corrupt you, too.”

  “I’ll take that gamble. Anything else you want to say?”

  “He was with the other werewolves last I saw him. He was pretending to fight them.”

  “Thank you.”

  Murmuring a prayer under his breath, Wesley closed his eyes. A second later, the blade slashed across Verdun’s throat. Emmeline tried to look away, but she could still hear him gag. Hazarding a glance, she caught a rush of blood soaking into the grey stone. The color drained from Verdun’s face, and he finally stilled, his eyes sightless and the beast silenced.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  On Mercy

  “He could have been saved,” Emmeline whispered, surprising even herself.

  Wiping the blade with his handkerchief, Wesley ignored her as he climbed out of the pit. “What’s done is done.”

  “But it didn’t have to be. We could have figured out a way to fix it.”

  “Not everything is fixable or worth fixing. Killing him was as much a mercy as it was punishment. He would never be whole again. We saw that at the party. Why are you suddenly so benevolent? You saw what he did to Mr. Doughty.”

  Emmeline’s lips twitched and her eyes burned. If she had acted at the wrong time, she could have been Verdun. Lord Hale had died under his aunt’s control, unaware of the fate that awaited him, and if it hadn’t been for him shoving her away and Immanuel Winter pleading her case with the Interceptors, she could have been at the end of a blade.

  A lost cause, they would have said. She deserved it.

  And they would have been right. She hadn’t known what she was getting into, but she was involved all the same. Unlike Verdun, someone had cared about her enough to keep her from toppling into the abyss, but the what-ifs never left her mind. She knew how close she had come.

  “Wesley, can I have a moment alone with Emmeline?”

  Her brother looked from her to Nadir with a furrowed brow. “Make it quick. We should keep moving.”

  Listening for anything in the hall, Wesley paused before casting a sidelong glance at Emmeline. The moment the door shut behind him, Emmeline released a tremulous sigh. She paced away from Verdun’s body in the crater and closed her eyes. A few moments ago, her blood had been alive with magic, an ecstasy she didn’t know could exist outside a bedroom, but now, she wanted to crawl into the corner and cry. Anger would have been preferable. Rage would at least keep the momentum going, yet tears were what stubbornly blossomed. She sucked in a breath, and a rippling sob broke from her lips. Clamping her hands over her mouth, Emmeline desperately fought against the spasms tugging at her ribs. Even with her hands over her face, she could see Nadir’s shoes and sense his presence at her elbow.

  “Are you all right?” he asked softly, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Tell me what the matter is.”

  “It could have been me,” she wheezed. “Wesley has no idea how close I came to being Verdun last summer. If he knew, would he think the Interceptors killing me was as much a mercy as a punishment?”

  Biting her lip, Emmeline tried to ignore the cascade of thoughts crashing through her mind. “How long do I have to pay for what happened? Haven’t I lost enough?”

  Nadir wrapped his arms tightly around her. She clung to him and sunk her face into the scent of his cologne and the lingering perfume of coffee and ink on his clothing. His fingers crept into her hair as he slowly tipped her head back until their gazes met. For once, she didn’t fear what she would see in his face; she already knew. He gently pressed his lips to her forehead before resting his cheek over it.

  “We both could have been in very different places if fate hadn’t intervened. I managed to escape death three times by sheer dumb luck. If it hadn’t been for Lord and Lady Dorset, I would have been dead. Maybe if things were different, you would have been punished, but that isn’t how it turned out. You have allies now. You have me and Wesley, your father, even that Mr. Winter chap you don’t seem to like. Lord and Lady Dorset, too.”

  “I know. I know that, and I’m grateful, but—” Emmeline’s face fell again. “I know they won’t believe me against Elsworth or lords.”

  “We’ll make them. Remember, I was an informant for them. They trusted me and my information before. And there’s your father. Don’t you think he and Wesley will bring hell down upon this place if anything happens to you?”

  A wet laugh escaped her lips.

  “Where do you think you get your fire from?” His eyes widened. “And your fire! Why didn’t you tell me about that?”

  “Am I not unnatural enough already? You barely believed me when I said I was a medium. I didn’t think you would believe me if I said I could make fire on occasion.”

  “How could I not believe you? I saw it. I felt it,” Nadir said, gesturing to his sternum. When Emmeline gave him a puzzled look, he continued, “Right before the floor started shaking, I felt something in my chest. It felt like a taut string running between me and you had been strummed. It was somewhere between the high of panic and the warmth of a stiff drink.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded, a smile cr
eeping over his features as she reached down to take his hands in hers. Even disheveled and with a day’s worth of growth covering his cheeks, he was a sight to behold. Why had she been so desperate to push him away before? Her eyes traveled over his shoulder to the hole left in the floor. Just because her mother and Lord Hale were dead didn’t mean she had been the cause. Self-centered people who wanted things beyond their means had done it, not her. Nadir Talbot wasn’t a pawn. He wasn’t an obstacle or annoyance. He was her friend, and the questioning look on his countenance at her silence only made that clearer.

  “I know this isn’t the most opportune time, but I’m sorry for storming off and leaving you behind before. No matter how angry, it wasn’t the right thing to do.”

  “I deserved it, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  “Are you going to quit?”

  “I told you I am! I’m not interested in anymore near death experiences.”

  “Then, you may not want to be with me.”

  “I highly doubt— Be with you? Does that mean what I think it does?”

  Emmeline drew in a tight breath at his look of triumph. Steeling herself, Emmeline said, “Nadir Talbot, I don’t hate you nearly as much as I wish I did. In fact, I quite like you, unfortunately. If we get through today, and we bloody well better, I would like to spend more time with you in a slightly more formal capacity.”

  Snorting a laugh, Nadir kissed her softly and gave her a flourished bow. “I agree to your terms, and if we don’t survive today, I will haunt you. Then, we’ll never be apart. I’ve heard some mediums say humans and ghosts can…”

  He made a wiggling motion with his fingers.

  “If you want us to reach that point, stay corporeal. The ghosts I’ve met haven’t been nearly so entertaining. They mostly just gawk and pester me.”

  “Then, I guess I’ll have to survive,” he said with a wink.

  At the creak of the door, Emmeline’s heart raced until she spotted Wesley’s battered face peeking through. “Enough making eyes. Let’s go.”