When he smiled, I couldn’t help but be alarmed. His canines seemed razor-sharp. The only time I’d seen this was in the wild wolves that roamed near here.
It was then I noticed three things.
One, there was an inch-long scar above his eye, across his eyebrow, which in no way diminished his good looks. Two, there was a more wicked-looking scar across his throat, which made me thirsty for some strange reason. Three, I was feeling things I’d never felt before. Something was stirring within me, and it was so foreign that I wanted to jump into the river and swim away. Two reasons held me there--the gator of course, and my Granny’s prediction.
I sensed that across me sat a dangerous, animalistic man, who reminded me very much of my Pa, and could destroy me in the blink of an eye. As a hunter, I knew the difference between hunter and prey. I was the prey, he was the hunter.
As afraid as I was, there was something about him. Somehow, I knew this man. Déjà vu, or something, tingled my senses. I felt as if I’d known him all my life. Shivers erupted, bringing goose bumps.
“I’ll build you a fire and have you dried in no time,” he whispered, seeing me shake. The humidity was so high that my leather clothes would never dry without a fire.
I nodded, agreeing to go with him.
He smiled that fearsome smile again. “I’m Abel, and you are…?”
“Angel,” I whispered, finally finding my voice.
“Angel. Hmm…,” he said, as if debating whether or not he liked it. His eyes sparkled again as he reached for the oars.
Everything spoke to me then. It was a dark omen, one I was destined to fall prey to. This man was my future, my death, and if the beating of my heart was a clue, he was the man my Grandma warned me about.
Of one thing I was absolutely certain. I’d fished my soulmate from the river, and he would be the death of me.
Midnight Omen
PART TWO
Abel, the man I’d pulled from the river, was silent as we made our way to his cabin. The longer I sat in the boat, the heavier my leather clothes became.
At first, I was nervous. The river life had become very quiet, as if it sensed a predator. I assumed the gator was still trailing us, although the animals may have sensed the same thing from Abel as I did.
The river split, and normally I’d keep to the bigger of the two, but he took the smaller. I’d only been down that way once, and when I’d heard a pack of wolves, I had retraced my path and headed home, certain I’d never return.
Most people felt silence was awkward, but neither of us felt the need to speak. He was a hunter as well, and was accustomed to quiet. It was absolutely necessary in order to catch anything. It was habit, I guess.
Once more the river split off, and I started wondering if it would have been easier—and safer—to just go home, rather than be with him. This man was a stranger, after all. What did I know of him, or what he’d do?
As soon as he pulled the boat to the bank, I gathered my knife and bow. I was not leaving them behind. He reached a hand out to pull me up, but I ignored it and leapt gracefully out. He gave me a look, which I took to mean that I did not impress him.
The moment he turned his back, I slashed four curved lines into a cypress tree with the knife that I still had in my hand. My father taught me that, if I was ever alone and felt in danger or was exploring a new territory, to leave my mark on a sapling or small tree. If, for whatever reason that a search party had to be sent out, they would know I’d come this way. If my father chanced to come this way in his wanderings, he would also know I was in the area. He might even check on me.
Pa showed me how to tell how old a mark was, no matter where it was made. We all had our own particular symbols. His was two curved vertical lines. Mine was almost a circle with two vertical curving lines facing away from the circle. The symbol of the maiden, my Granny had told me. My Grandpa had given it to me when I became a hunter.
I’d been making my mark for eight years, so I could slash the symbol in less than five seconds. Eventually Abel would know I’d made the mark, but it gave me a window of opportunity if I was in danger.
We’d walked no more than ten minutes when we came to a lean-to against a rocky outcropping. These outcroppings were very rare; Georgia was flatter than paper. The rock wall was the bottom of a hill. He had chosen his spot well, but this may not have even been Abel’s home. Hunters were known to have several camps.
He held the door for me, but I refused to move. He would have to enter first.
Abel snickered but went on inside. I waited until he’d lit a few candles before I slipped inside. His back was to me, but I knew he’d sensed when I’d come in. Hunters are trained to notice those things.
“Through that door is my room. There is a change of clothes on the bed. Help yourself while I start us a fire outside.” His voice was rusty, deep, and guttural. I loved it. It sent chills over my skin. He said no more and did not wait; he just went back out to start the fire to dry our clothes.
That’s when I noticed for the first time that his abs were perfectly sculpted, and all he wore was black leather pants. I nearly lost it right then and there. He was a perfect model of the male species. It was everything I could do to keep my eyes focused on anything but his body.
I did as he instructed, and found the black leathers on his bed—a piece of furniture that was nothing more than four prone trees stripped of bark with a heap of animal pelts on top. It was not much more than a pallet. His bed was more than likely just as hard as the floor, but at least he was not on that hard surface. I noticed another door that blended into the rock wall. The hunter in me wanted to explore it, but the human me knew better than to close myself behind another door.
The leather pants fit loosely, but were comfortable. The shirt was nothing more than a vest, and covered only what was necessary. My own shirt was made much the same way.
I brought my clothes out and laid them across a log, which had been placed as a seat next to the fire. This was his kitchen and dining room, I guessed. He was living off the land. Based on the structure and items hung and stacked, this was his main base, the one he called home.
Raccoon, squirrel, fox, and other skins hung everywhere. There were no wolf skins to be found. I found that strange; hunters preferred those to the smaller pelts. That’s when I remembered his dog, and then it made sense.
“Hungry or thirsty?” he asked.
I shook my head, and continued trying to read him.
“I won’t bite, you know,” he said quietly, adding kindling to the fire.
Merely nodding, I continued learning my environment, and observing him.
He was clean-shaven, which was not something my Pa or Grandpa had ever been. He looked cleaner too, as if he bathed daily. His boots were not from town or handmade. They were military issued; I recognized that instantly. He had either stolen them or had been in the service. He seemed young, so I was betting on the former being true. If he’d stolen the boots, then he was a thief.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” he informed me. I watched him as he walked to the lean-to. His back was long, strong, and had about ten one-inch-long scars. I stared until he shut the door.
I was getting ready to slip out of his clothes and back into my own, in order to make an escape, when something approached me from behind. Instantly, I knew I was in danger.
The hairs on the back of my neck and arms stood. I turned slowly and heard growling. The something I’d sensed was a grown female wolf, brown in color, and obviously agitated by my presence.
“Abel is inside. He invited me. Shh… no need to be scared,” I whispered, staring her down. She was not my alpha. If I gave her that, I was dead. I stood straight, curled my lip, and leaned forward to signal my intent.
The female’s growl became more aggressive. She was obviously not in the mood for me. Without putting my back to her, I slowly reached for my clothes and backed out of the camp. When I was outside the perimeter, I tucked my clothes into my belt, and
notched an arrow in case the she-wolf became violent.
It seemed as if my retreat was a good thing. She scratched at Abel’s door without taking her eyes off me.
I reached my boat and changed quickly. The leather was stiff, but would be fine in no time. I folded Abel’s clothes and left them on the dock. Without hesitating, I pushed my boat back into the channel and in the direction of home.
A nasty snarl caught me off guard. The she-wolf had followed me, and had waited until I was caught off guard, with my back to her, to attack. My knife was sheathed and I had no time to reach for it.
As I turned to face the threat, she leapt and soared, and upon impact I was knocked from the boat. She was heavier than I’d guessed. Her teeth immediately snapped around my throat and went for the jugular.
The water was cool, but not cold. The shock I felt was from the razor-sharp teeth tearing into my throat. As water closed over my head, I panicked. I could not hold us both above the water. It was not more than ten feet deep, but that was enough to make it harder to pull her off. If I could not reach my knife, I was dead. I could tell that this wolf had killed humans before, and I would not be her last.
Air escaped my lungs and I knew, without a doubt, that within minutes I would be dead. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t swim, and I was not sure if I’d drown first or bleed out.
Already my blood was thicker than the surrounding water, and I was drowning in it.
My fingertips just barely brushed the handle and my heart hammered violently. Blood surged out, mixing with the swampy water, making it almost impossible to see more than a few inches.
Already the wound was a bad one. The she-wolf was shaking and trying to tear my throat wide open. The only thing stopping her was the fact that I had an iron-like grip on her neck, but it was weakening by the moment.
Her deadly claws were mangling my clothes and skin. She was trying to push off so she could rip my throat out. Already my stomach was ripped open. Her claws dug in, her teeth gripped tight, and my body was a mass of torn flesh. I would be a monster if by some miracle I survived.
Her red eyes stared angrily into my own. It was a ferocious battle of wills. She was protecting her master and I’d trespassed. The only reason she had not killed me in camp was because I wore his clothes, smelled like him, and she had sensed in me what I had in her–that we were both capable of killing. With my knife sheathed, I was little threat to her.
I would not die here! I would take her with me!
As we stared into each other’s eyes we understood one thing. She would kill me. There was no doubt of that. Just as darkness closed in, my hand pulled my knife out and I gutted her under her ribcage. I was sure my thrust was enough to bury my knife into her heart.
We would both die in the river. She would die in my arms, with me under her.
Oh God! Save me!
Too weak to swim, I now knew I would drown. I choked on blood and river water. My lungs were full, and panic had set in. Only the instinct to survive was left.
Not like this! Please, not like this!
The she-wolf was torn out of my arms, although she had already begun slipping from my grasp, but it was too late. I sank the last few inches, and my back touched the muddy river bottom. The fur in my fist was the only evidence, other than my wounds, that a wolf had just attacked me. I could no longer see anything. I was blind, deaf, and nearly drained of blood.
I’m so sorry, Ma!
Choking on water, I knew I needed to just let go. Let the darkness overcome me and take me away from the pain. I would have rather died of blood loss than drown, though. The murky, nasty water was filling my lungs. My body jerked one last time, in a desperate attempt to push off the bottom and find air. It was no use. I was dying.
Would I be alone when I died? Would I cease to exist?
Just as I lost consciousness, I felt a hand close over my wrist and pull me up. I was growing cold, numb, and the pain was receding. I was dying. Who will take care of them? Who would feed and protect my family? Abel, no, let me go. It’s over.
“Angel!”
Granny! Please forgive me!
AUTHORS NOTE:
Midnight Omen is only the beginning. Midnight Curse is already being edited and on its way. It will be published by December 2014. Get ready to find out what happens next!
Also you can find more of my works online at any book store! Please be kind and leave a review.
Midnight Omen Page 2