by J A Campbell
"Gotcha!" Marianna reached out and caught only the fur of the brown and grey wolf before it darted out of sight through the maze of corn. She ran in the direction of the beast for several moments without seeing him again and began to grow irritated.
She made her way to the outer edge of the cornfield situated next to several acres of freshly mowed lawn. It was occupied by a hundred-year-old farmhouse with a garage and a huge oak tree. The wolf stretching out beneath the tree panted and grinned at her as his tongue lolled out.
She stuck her tongue out at him in mock irritation and sat down on the soft grass to lie against him. Closing her eyes, they silently enjoyed the warm summer sun shining through the leaves. A while later, she sat up as she felt the wolf lift himself onto his four feet. He kept rising until he stood upright, his bones shifting fluidly and his fur receding into his body until a muscular young man with blonde hair and deep blue eyes stood before her in all his naked glory.
When Marianna had first met him at the age of eleven, his casual regard for nudity had embarrassed her. Embarrassment turned into ambivalence, and ambivalence eventually turned into curiosity. As they got older and their relationship evolved, curiosity turned into interest. Knowing this was to be her last summer with him before he left for his first year of medical school at Yale while she went to school here in Nebraska, interest would now be considered an understatement.
He grinned, evidently catching the scent of her thoughts, and sat down naked beside her. He leaned in as if he were going to kiss her, but stopped right as their lips touched.
"My parents won't be home until this evening, so we have the place to ourselves. My bed would be more comfortable," he whispered suggestively.
"Darren, I couldn't care less where we are," she whispered back. "As long as you kiss…" His lips covered hers before she could finish, and she lost herself in his kiss.
Her stepmother, Lydia, had introduced her to Darren seven years ago after marrying her father. Marianna hadn't dreamed that werewolves like Darren, or real witches like Lydia, existed, or even that there was a supernatural war going on. Lydia was a witch trained to fight the vampires who had decided they wanted to rule the mysterious Council of Elders, which governed those with supernatural abilities. So while her father was out fighting the Nazis somewhere in Europe, people like her stepmother were fighting a war closer to home. Darren would join her as a healer after he finished his schooling.
It hadn't taken her very long to accept their existence, though it helped that the neighbor werewolf boy was in the same class. They quickly became best friends and inseparable. What surprised her most was this beautiful boy grew to love her of all people. She wasn't possessed of any unique magical abilities and felt pretty average in every way, except for her love of caring for others which led to her desire to become a nurse.
When Darren's grandfather grew ill after the death of his mate, Marianna spent most of her time at his house simply visiting and caring for him in her own tender way. Darren told her what should have taken less than a year to kill his grandfather, she had helped to heal in half that time. He often told her that her kindness and caring was a magic all its own.
She dug her fingers into the skin of his back, intent on working a very different sort of magic, but he lifted his head and looked toward the road.
"There's a car coming," he hissed as he stood and stumbled over to the porch to grab his clothing, hurriedly pulling them on.
"I thought your family wasn't coming back for a few more hours." She let out a sigh of disappointment and tried unsuccessfully not to pout.
"It's not my parent's car. I don't recognize the sound." He gave her a grin and winked at her. "You should probably fix your hair though. You look like you've been up to something immoral."
"We were up to something immoral." She ran to the porch to catch her reflection in the window and pulled her fingers through her hair.
She turned toward Darren as a shiny black Ford pulled up the long dirt driveway and her heart stopped as two men in military dress stepped out of the car.
Darren walked up behind her and took her by the hand as the men approached. One of them she recognized as a werewolf who had recently been stationed at the local Army base and had joined Darren's father's pack.
"Ms. McCullough…" He paused for a moment to look toward Darren and cleared his throat. "It is with a heavy heart that we inform you that on the third day of June, your father and his unit were killed in action…"
Her world spun. It crashed and burned in a flash of angry red flames. The tears stung her face and she closed her eyes to block out the pain. She felt numb as Darren's strong arms wrapped themselves around her and pulled her close. Sinking into him, she focused on breathing; she attempted to block out these last few moments. The panic squeezed her chest, tightly, and she fought it down while focusing on the cicadas screeching and the rustle of the leaves overhead. She turned to look at the drive when she heard a familiar car pull up behind the black sedan.
She pulled herself away from Darren to look at her stepmother as she stepped out of the car and glanced confusedly at the uniformed men who had finally descended into blissful silence. When Marianna looked at her stepmother and saw a reflection of her own dazed and tear-filled eyes, the dam burst. She rushed into her arms and together they wept.
* * *
Marianna stood away from the diminishing crowd in her living room and held the flag that had covered her father's casket. She was replaying her favorite memories of him; the way he pushed her in her swing, or the fun they had when he took her to the cinema. A gentle hand settled on her shoulder, shaking her out of her thoughts. She turned to find her stepmother, who tried to manage a comforting smile.
"Dear, your father's lawyer would like to meet with us about your father's will. I know this is bad timing, but he needs to leave for Chicago in the morning."
Marianna smiled in return. "Of course, Lydia." She started to follow, but grabbed the other woman's hand in hers and looked her in the eye. "I know I was a pest to you as a child," she hurriedly continued on as Lydia opened her mouth to object. "but you've always treated me with kindness and love. I just want you to know you've been a strength to me and I wouldn't be able to get through this without you."
Lydia looked at her for a moment before she gave her a smile, patted her on the arm, and turned to walk into the study. She usually found it difficult to communicate her feelings, but the smile and physical touch was enough to show Marianna that she felt something for her, too.
Marianna stopped inside the door, her gaze falling on the grey-haired balding man who sat in her father's large wooden office chair. Not long ago it was her father who sat peering over his glasses at her and Darren as he waited to provide a lecture after catching them half clothed in the grain silo. She had never seen her father so upset over anything in her entire life. Her human father had threatened and raged at the supernaturally strong werewolf boy until he was wide eyed and pale. Not that it kept them from trying the same thing weeks later. Her heart ached to have him there to yell at them again.
The lawyer, Mr. Lyle Johnson, cleared his throat and stood, calling her back from her memories. He held his hand out and took Lydia by hers for a gentle shake before doing the same for Marianna.
"I'm very sorry for your loss. Jim was a good man. One of the best."
"Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to see to this," Lydia said as she sat, pulling out one of her handkerchiefs while Marianna stood silently behind her.
"Well, I see no reason we shouldn't get right down to business. Your father's wishes were pretty well cut and dried. Is there anything you would like to know before I start the reading of the will?"
"No, Mr. Johnson," Lydia replied as Marianna said, "No, sir."
"Well, here goes." He pushed his glasses up with one hand while he lifted the lone paper with the other.
"On this the 12th day of December in the year Nineteen hundred and thirty nine, I, James Edward Mc
Cullough, being of a sound mind, do hereby declare this document to be my last will and testament. In the event of my death, I appoint my daughter, Marianna Rochelle McCullough as sole benefactor of my estate and assets, both monetary and physical as well as survivorship benefits as allotted by the United States Army." He stopped reading and looked into their stunned faces.
"Are you telling me that he has left me with nothing? There has to be some kind of mistake," Lydia said angrily, shock evident in her voice.
"Maybe there's more? Couldn't you read a little farther?" Marianna looked questioningly at the man in front of her.
"I'm afraid there is nothing more to be read. Your stepmother is set to inherit her own parent's estates in North Carolina, so he felt it fitting to leave his to you."
"So that's it? I'm supposed to leave the life I built here behind and crawl back to my parents? He felt that little of me?" Her voice cracked at the end and her angry eyes filled with tears.
Marianna touched the woman's shoulder. Lydia turned her head to glare at her angrily.
"You know I will share everything with you. I would never leave you out. I couldn't imagine not having you in my life," she ventured.
Lydia stood and faced the heartbroken girl. "How do I know this isn't a trick? You've always had your father wrapped around your little finger. He has always given you everything you've ever wanted. You're probably the one who put him up to this."
"You know that's not true, Lydia. I'll give you half of everything. I love you," she pleaded, not even bothering to stop the tears now spilling down her cheeks. Suddenly she found herself lying on the floor too stunned to move, her face stinging and red.
The door flew open and the next moment she was staring up into Darren's concerned blue eyes.
"Look at me, sweetheart. Are you all right? Can you speak?"
"I'm fine, I think," she said, looking a little dazed. "Don't be angry with her, she's just upset."
"That's no excuse," he told her gently, but his eyes held a barely tempered anger when he turned them on the witch.
"Harm her again, and I will remove your throat with my bare hands," he told her, his eyes belying the calm manner in which he spoke.
"Don't challenge me, pup." Her eyes blazed with an angry heat as she turned and walked out the door.
* * *
Lydia climbed lightly up the dense trees covering the Loess Hills in Iowa. The Council had offered her time to mourn her husband, but she desperately needed to take her mind off her situation. Hunting and killing one of those god-forsaken creatures that hunted her people would be the only thing to give her the satisfaction and release she craved.
She stopped to close her eyes as she drew some herbs from the small pouch attached to the belt of her uniform. She spread them in four points around her while murmuring her incantation. Small glowing specks shone through the leaves, making a trail that went up the hill.
Apparently, the idiot had taken his meal with him. At least it would make her job easier.
She followed the trail until it leveled off halfway up the hill and ended just before the side of a sharp wall with a cave dug into it. She pulled some foliage away so she could peer in while the sun still shone against the south facing cave. It only went back about ten feet or so, but it was enough for the vampire to stash his two dead victims and the tarp-covered hole where he slept.
She could kill him now while he wouldn't put up a fight. He would not wake until the sun rose, no matter what she did, but that wouldn't be as fun. Or, she could wait until he woke and take out some of her pent-up anger on this filthy creature before her.
She sprinkled some holy water mixed with wolfsbane and a few other various herbs around the hole where her target slept. She quietly voiced another incantation that would drain many other witches, but not her. She had yet to find a witch more powerful than she. She finished her spell and sat down by the bodies, waiting for it to wake.
An hour later the sun finally slid behind the horizon. She tried not to fidget as she waited for him to open his eyes.
The creature finally woke and tried to sit up in panic after seeing her until he realized he couldn't move.
"How long have you been here? Why haven't you killed me yet?" His voice wavered as he began to panic.
"I've waited an hour or so." She gave him a sadistic smile that made his heart drop into his stomach. "As for why I haven't killed you...well, if you're dead, that's when my fun stops."
Moments later, her smile grew as the joyous sounds of his screams echoed unheard through the isolated valley.
* * *
An hour before dawn, she pulled the cross away from his thigh. He was stripped naked now and there wasn't an inch of him that wasn't raw and crusted with blood. Thankfully, he healed quickly; otherwise he would have been dead long ago. She gazed for a moment at another bloodied tear fleeing from his eye. She had thought he would be out of those by now and she wondered if she could bleed him dry through his tears.
"Please," he begged for the thousandth time. "Have mercy. Kill me now or let me go. Please. No more." He choked out another pathetic sob.
"Why should I do any favors for you?" She sneered as she walked up to crouch above his face. "Why should I do anything to help anyone? No one has ever done me any favors." Her eyes grew cold and distant with anger. "Left everything I knew for his love and raised his daughter as my own, only for him to go off and die in some stupid human war. He gave everything to his precious little princess and left me with nothing."
Again she focused her gaze on him. "So, tell me. Why should I show you kindness when I have received none?"
"Please," he said in a weak voice. "I'll do anything you ask of me. Whatever you want, just please release me."
She looked at him as she considered his words. "Would you kill for me?" Her voice was laced with poison.
"Yes. Anything," he promised.
* * *
That evening, Marianna stood at the kitchen sink scrubbing the last of the dirty dishes from the funeral. It didn't usually take her this long to get around to important chores, but she wasn't feeling like herself at the moment.
She stared out at the full moon through the open kitchen window and wished she could be running with Darren right now. She sighed softly. She felt so alone.
A few moments later, Lydia walked through the door and looked at Marianna as she set her witchy bag on the floor. The pain was still evident in her eyes, but Marianna figured it was the same loss reflecting in her own. She only wished she could do something to alleviate her stepmother's pain.
Suddenly Lydia brightened a little and her mouth began the hint of a smile.
"I want to apologize for my earlier behavior. Why don't you let me cook tonight and we can have a talk about what we do from here."
"I would love that very much, and there's no need for an apology. You're hurting, too." Marianna's heart lifted at her stepmother's words.
"I'm so glad we can move past this. Now, could you please fetch me some rosemary and thyme from the garden while I start on the roast?"
"Of course." Marianna smiled, pleased that she could do something kind for her stepmother. With a lighter step than she'd had all day, she grabbed a basket from beside the door and went out into the night.
* * *
Robert had never seen a more beautiful creature in all his life. With her long, wavy black hair and pale skin, she looked like an elven princess from the stories his grandmother used to tell him. He'd always had a weakness for beautiful women and rarely preyed upon them. It was like destroying priceless works of art. If he didn't kill her though, he knew the witch would kill him.
He walked silently behind his prey as she crouched amidst the herbs. Quickly covering her mouth, he grabbed her by the waist. Her arms reached up to grab at the hand covering her mouth in a vain attempt to pull it free. She clawed and tried to bite his hand, but he was far too strong. He dragged her behind the barn and bit into the artery pulsing in the side of her throat. For a
long while, he drank as she struggled against him and sobbed into his hand.
Eventually, she stopped fighting and the life in her eyes began to fade as she turned them on the light filled house.
He looked at her staring eyes and cursed himself for destroying such great beauty. Every moment he looked upon her, he found some part of himself he thought long gone break a little more, yet he couldn't bring himself to look away. For the first time since his own unnatural death, he did something he considered kind for someone else. Pulling his sleeve back, he lifted his wrist to his mouth and bit down hard until the sweetly metallic taste of his blood flowed over his tongue. Gently lifting her head, he poured the scarlet liquid into her open mouth.
The blood filled her mouth until a few drops slid from the corner down her pale cheek. He gently massaged her throat until she involuntarily swallowed and repeated the entire process until he felt satisfied that she would rise.
* * *
Marianna opened her eyes and stared at the wooden beams above her in confusion. She couldn't place where she was, seeing only a room bare of anything but rotting wood and windows darkened yellow with grime and age.
A few moments later, a slightly unkempt man holding a cloth pack walked in through the dilapidated doorway and stopped to look at her.
"Glad to see you're back with us. For a moment there I thought you weren't going to make it." He set the sack down by the doorway, and something about it made her mouth go dry. Her throat began to ache as if she were coming down with the flu.
"Here, have some of this. Drink slowly." He pulled out a large steel bottle from the pack and held it to her lips as he cradled her head in his hands.
"Slowly," he said as the sweetest liquid ambrosia filled her mouth and brought strength to her weakened limbs. She gulped it down greedily. She somewhat expected him to force her to go slower, but he didn't pull it away.