by Susan Illene
He started toward the cabin, but began sneezing violently the moment he got close. I glanced back at him from the door, wondering why he had a sudden case of the sniffles, but then realized the problem. The wolfsbane.
“Sorry.” I suppressed a smile. “I’ll get rid of it.”
Through a face red and swollen with irritation, he managed a grunt. I wanted to feel bad, I really did, but forcing my weak body under the cabin took what little sympathy I might have had away. My muscles protested the awkward crawling in a way that let me know I was nowhere near recovered yet. At least the herb bags were easier to remove than my first method of distribution. After gathering them up, I walked out toward the woods and dumped them in some bushes.
Derrick stood in the doorway when I got back, surveying the living room. At least it didn’t look too bad. After being gone for three days, the only thing different was a mustiness in the air. While he arranged his things, I moved to the kitchen for something to eat, washing the dirt off my hands first.
A bowl of cereal seemed like the simplest choice. Feeling generous, I offered some to Derrick. It must have been a brand he liked because he accepted the offer right away. Of course, werewolves did have a high metabolism and needed to eat often. He might have wanted it no matter what it was.
We sat at the table, eating in silence, with only the sound of our food crunching between our teeth to break the quiet. Irony struck me. It came from that place inside that could still find humor in a bad situation. If anyone had told me a few weeks ago I’d be eating in a peaceful manner with a werewolf, I might have considered them insane.
His presence didn’t irritate my senses nearly as much as I thought it would. The constant influx of sensations that bombarded me at Variola’s had worn me down, but being around him didn’t feel that bad. He was like a circle of heat wrapped around my mind. I wondered who this man might be besides Variola’s second. It couldn’t hurt to get to know him before we began working together. I didn’t want him here, but for now I had no choice.
“So, how long have you lived around here?”
“About five years,” he replied between mouthfuls of cereal.
“Do you like it?”
He shrugged and poured himself another bowl. Mine was still more than half-way full.
“Know the area well?”
“As well as I need to.”
Okay, I’d landed myself a real conversationalist. He had a trace of an accent, maybe southern. During my captivity, I hadn’t noticed it, but now it seemed more obvious to me.
Derrick had brown hair and skin with a bare hint of a tan, but that didn’t tell me much about him. Nothing stood out to give me a clue. His looks were average, neither ugly nor handsome. Maybe a bit brutish. His clothes were nothing special either. He wore a long-sleeve flannel shirt, dark blue jeans, and a pair of worn boots that had seen better days. Rugged would be the best way to describe him.
One thing could be said, he smelled good. A few people I’d run into in this area didn’t bother to bathe all that often. It could have been due to all the dry cabins around that didn’t have running water. Then again, it could have just been my poor luck. I seemed to find the worst kinds of people wherever I went.
At least Variola hadn’t saddled me with a stinky guy, if I had to look at the bright side. The werewolf who’d tried to molest me would have been a far worse alternative. I might have decided to shoot him after getting back to the cabin, consequences be damned.
After finishing my bowl of cereal, I put it away in the sink and let him know he was welcome to whatever else he could find. Despite my reservations with having him here, the last thing I wanted was a hungry werewolf in the cabin—that would be a recipe for disaster.
He nodded his head and continued eating, now on his third bowl. I forced myself to put his presence out of my mind so I could get cleaned up and ready for bed. After being in a house full of sups for the last few days, dealing with one shouldn’t be as bad. At least, that was what I hoped.
***
The next morning arrived with the smell of bacon and eggs. My hunger rose at the tantalizing scents. I mentally checked over my body before getting up. There was still some weakness, but it was better than last night. Knowing a good meal would help, I crawled out of bed. Maybe Derrick would take pity on me and share. The old pair of boxer shorts and shirt I wore covered me enough I didn’t feel the need to put anything else on. I just ran a brush through my hair and put it in a ponytail before leaving the room.
Derrick looked up from where he stood in front of the stove. There were no shoes on his feet, but he did have jeans and a red t-shirt on that stretched across his chest. He’d left his hair loose. A few strands fell over his face and almost hid the dark circles rimming his eyes. I supposed a big, muscular guy like him wouldn’t have had the easiest time sleeping on an old springy couch.
He nodded at one of the kitchen chairs. “Take a seat. Food’s ‘bout ready.”
I froze in my steps. “You’re cooking breakfast…for me?”
“And myself,” he said.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Sounds like I do after what your friend said.”
“Aniya warned you about my cooking? Why would she do that?”
These were the bad guys. It didn’t make sense to warn him. I’d be willing to admit my cooking skills left something to be desired. They were limited to simple pasta meals and sandwiches—everything else was beyond my abilities. I could even ruin eggs, which is why it surprised me he had been cooking them. There hadn’t been any here before, or bacon for that matter. He must have made a run to the store while I slept.
“She said she didn’t want me dying of food poisoning,” Derrick said while stirring the eggs around.
My brows furrowed. “Werewolves can’t get food poisoning.”
Unfortunately.
He cleared his throat. “No, but we can get an upset stomach. She also said the taste of your cooking was something best not tried.”
“That little snitch,” I grumbled under my breath.
He shot a sharp look in my direction, but I ignored him. It annoyed me that my own best friend had ratted me out to a sup. She must have liked Derrick to even bother telling him, which made me wonder what he’d done to get in her good graces. If I ever got the chance, I’d ask her—and berate her for spreading vicious rumors about me to the bad guys.
Deciding it wasn’t worth arguing over food I didn’t have to cook, I slumped into my seat without saying anything else. The man had even made toast, though that must have been a trick since the kitchen didn’t boast an actual toaster. Maybe he used the oven.
Derrick put a plate in front of me before sitting down with his own. He’d loaded mine with food that made my mouth water. Wanda had told me at one point to never eat food a sup prepared, but she didn’t have a love for home cooked meals the way I did. They say the fastest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. I may not be a man, but a well-cooked meal could win me over a lot faster than anything else. Anyone who’d had to eat military rations for weeks on end, or my cooking for that matter, would feel the same way. Though I didn’t think my culinary skills were as bad as Aniya made them out to be.
We ate in silence. Both of us concentrating on our meals and not each other. Everything tasted even better than it smelled, which came as somewhat of a surprise. Could evil people make food this good? Maybe I could put up with him for a little while if he kept feeding me like this. At least Variola hadn’t given me a vampire.
“How far out do your senses go?” His question startled me. Guess the man could open a conversation.
I shrugged. “About a half-mile.”
He finished chewing his food before speaking again. “Guessin’ you haven’t sensed Nikolas before. You’ll need to show me the places you’ve been on a map so we can narrow things down.”
“No problem, I’ve been through most of Fairbanks. Same thing with North Pole. That town’s small enough I wou
ld have picked up on him during my brief drive through there. Other than that, though, I haven’t covered much.”
He nodded. “I got some maps we can mark up. We’ll start with the most likely places and work it out from there.”
“Sounds fine,” I replied. At least he had a plan.
After finishing my meal, I went ahead and started on the dishes. My parents raised me to believe a cook shouldn’t have to do the clean-up job if there was anyone else to do it. I’m not one to bother washing dishes until they pile up to a height comparable to the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but something told me Derrick would do them if I didn’t. Enemy or not, I didn’t like others doing my dirty work.
The rest of the day was spent in recovery for me and planning for Derrick. He appeared to be on top of things and I still didn’t have the energy to insert my own opinions into whatever plans he was making. The man appeared to be organized, if nothing else.
He had me up and out of the cabin the next morning by nine o’clock, after another filling breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and sausage. It was a good thing I needed to gain weight after my stay at Variola’s because he cooked several times a day. The lasagna he made the night before was the best I’d ever had. Even my mom hadn’t been that good and I remembered her meals being amazing.
I insisted on driving. He started to argue, but I gave him the glare all women are capable of giving if they are determined to have their way. He must have been familiar with it because he let the argument go. Smart man.
He guided me to a place north of the house where Variola lived, calculating Nikolas might have headed that way. We drove down all the paved roads in the area, but out in the bush it didn’t take long. There weren’t that many of them. I decided to go for some off-road driving after that, ignoring Derrick’s protests.
“I know what I’m doing,” I told him.
He turned his head forward and proceeded to grip the “oh shit” handle. I set my iPod to play Creed songs so we’d have something to listen to. He shot me a surprised look, maybe not expecting my choice of music, but settled back in for the bumpy ride without saying anything.
After a while, we came up to a deep puddle that had to be at least twenty feet long and as wide as the road. With trees and brush on both sides, there would be no going around it. I stopped the vehicle and jumped out. Finding a lengthy stick nearby, I tested the depth. The puddle was about two and a half feet deep, plus or minus a few inches.
Derrick shook his head. “We’ll have to turn around. Not worth trying to get through that.”
I shrugged and went back to the SUV. He was studying the map when I shifted the vehicle into four-low, applied the gas, and eased it toward the water. The forward momentum caught his attention right away.
“Don’t you wanna go backwards to get outta here?” He said as he tried to take control of the gear shifter.
“No,” I said, slapping his hand away.
The front tires entered the water. I pressed harder on the pedal. The vehicle surged forward and went fully into it. Water splashed on both sides as I maneuvered through, never letting up on the gas.
At one point the tires began to spin in place, but I refused to let the pedal go and kept turning the wheel back and forth. The vehicle managed to gain traction again moments later. Seconds after that we were on the other side and on dry land again.
“You could have gotten us stuck.”
I smiled. “But I didn’t.”
He grunted. “No, you didn’t. Wanna tell me where you learned to drive like that?”
“Guess Aniya didn’t tell you I was in the army, huh?”
He lifted his brows. “No. For how long?”
“Six years. They sent me to an off-road driving course. I’ve driven through lots of stuff like this since then. Give me a decent four-wheel drive and I can get through almost anything.”
“Huh, well in that case,” he told me with a wave of his hand, “carry on.”
We drove for some time with me splashing through more puddles and going down some hills Derrick claimed made his life flash before his eyes. That seemed a bit of a stretch, considering how difficult it would be to kill a werewolf. The inclines had been a little steep, but it had surprised me how freaked out he got over them.
As time passed, I began to get the idea our search might be hopeless. Then my senses picked up on something unusual. Not the vampire we were looking for, but something else. When it comes to detecting sups, I could track them for up to a half-mile away, but the same couldn’t be said for magic. For that, I had to be closer. This one felt to be a few hundred feet off the overgrown trail we were driving through.
Derrick lifted an inquiring brow when I stopped the vehicle and opened my door. I ignored him and climbed out. He followed me as I began trudging through the brush.
“You sensing somethin’?” he asked.
“Yep,” I answered without explaining further. He might have stopped me if he learned the place I was going to investigate didn’t have anything to do with our elusive vampire.
A little farther in we hit the first circle of spells. Derrick stopped, emitting a low growl. I gave him a wary glance and hoped it didn’t mean he was about to turn violent.
His eyes had darkened and his fists were clenched tight. The sun wouldn’t be setting for several more hours so at least he couldn’t shift. That would be dangerous for me since weres had less control over themselves in their wolf form. I hadn’t considered a “keep away” spell would cause this kind of fear in him. It didn’t affect me at all, but then again, it wouldn’t.
“I ain’t liking this,” he stated in a gruff voice, his eyes alert and searching for unseen enemies.
How do you calm a werewolf down? I missed the class on that one.
“Derrick, it’s just a spell,” I spoke in a calm voice. “If you can hold yourself together, it will pass after we walk about fifteen more feet. Can you do that?”
As an added precaution, I kept my eyes directed down and away from his. My lessons served me well enough to know looking a werewolf in the eye when he was upset or angry could result in disastrous consequences.
“I’ll manage,” he replied after a minute of breathing through the fear.
Hoping to set the example and get him to follow, I resumed walking forward. His light footsteps let me know he wasn’t far behind. Fifteen agonizing feet later we made it past the thick band of magic. I sensed his immediate relief when the spell no longer affected him. A glance back showed his eyes and posture had returned to normal.
“Sorry about that,” I told him. “There was no way around it.”
“Are there more?”
I shook my head. “Not like that, but there is another one that will affect you.”
“How?”
I pointed to an area up ahead. “Past that bank of trees, there is something there, but it’s covered with an illusion spell so no one can see it. You’ll think there is a deep, dark hole in the ground that you could fall into—but really, there is no hole. The idea must be to keep people from seeing, or walking into, whatever is there. Don’t believe what you see. Just stay close to me and you’ll be fine.”
He nodded his head. A look of resolve settled on his face. He didn’t come off as the type who liked to appear weak.
My senses could locate a spell and identify its purpose, but I couldn’t know what the magic intended to hide until I saw it with my eyes. Derrick followed me as I headed toward the area in question. When we broke past the trees, the open field beyond came into my view. I gasped. Derrick would see a giant hole, which must have spanned a hundred feet, but I got to see what really lay there.
Chapter Thirteen
As my nose took in the putrid smell, my stomach lurched in protest. The visuals didn’t help either. Bile rose up in my throat and I promptly bent over the ground to throw-up. Not even in my military days had I seen something this bad.
Derrick came over and rubbed my back in a soothing motion, helping to ease the cramps that had
started in my stomach. I wanted to pull away, not trusting him so close while I kneeled on the ground in a vulnerable position, but the horror of what I’d seen had me stuck in place.
“What is it, Melena?” He couldn’t understand what I was seeing, but his concern must have overcome his fear of the gaping hole he had to think he was standing on.
I attempted to breathe through my mouth to avoid the worst of the stench. It was the most awful thing I’d ever smelled. As a werewolf, he should have scented it too, but the illusion spell must have prevented it.
It was far too horrific to describe. He’d have to see it for himself, so I took my knife out of my pocket. He glanced between me and the blade, but didn’t say anything. I pricked my finger to draw out blood and let it hit the ground until several drops mixed with the magic. It was enough to break the spell. The illusion came crashing down around us. Derrick took a few steps back and covered his nose.
His eyes turned wild and he trembled. I couldn’t blame him. The sight of dozens of bodies piled up in a massive mound had been an unpleasant surprise for me too. Once his initial shock wore off, I felt his anger replace it. Disgust and revulsion reflected in his face, making me think he might not have been a part of this.
“You know whose spell was covering this up, don’t you?” I asked him in a tight voice.
“No,” he answered.
Truth. I stood up and moved over to stand in front of him, wanting to know how innocent he was in all this. “Variola and two of her witches set this up. Any idea where all these bodies came from?”
He shook his head. “I had no idea they were here.”
Derrick moved forward to study them closer.
I believed him, but figured there had to be an explanation. Most of the corpses weren’t fresh, and in fact, quite a few skeletons poked out from underneath the others who were in varying stages of decay. One of the fresher bodies looked to be a vamp kill based on the fang marks dotting the neck. Another must have been from a werewolf attack because of the way the torso had been ripped apart. Maybe animals got to it, but I couldn’t be sure since the spells surrounding the place could affect them as well. They were powerful and few natural species had immunity to this kind of magic—except insects, which were swarming all over the mound.