Curse of the Wolf Girl

by Martin Millar

  “Does everyone have to drink so much?” she demanded then turned and walked swiftly away, her expression still dark with anger.

  Moonglow called after her to tell Vex what had happened, but Dominil didn’t acknowledge her.

  Moonglow helped Daniel, who was sweating freely and looked very ill, into the car, took his car keys out of his pocket, got behind the wheel, and started the car. She kept sneaking anxious glances at him as she drove, wondering if this was really the result of Malveria’s curse. Had Daniel triggered it by kissing her? She wasn’t quite sure what form the curse might take and wouldn’t have been that surprised to see Daniel turning into molten lava or something else equally horrible. She fretted over his health and blamed herself for not making it clearer that kissing was quite out of the question.

  “Perhaps it’s just flu,” she thought, as they headed south over the River Thames, which was black under the night sky. “Or some sort of norovirus. They can make you ill really quickly.”

  * * *

  Hundreds of miles to the north, in Colburn Woods, Queen Malveria turned her head to gaze intently into the distance.

  “What is taking Distikka so long?” she muttered. “I really fear the werewolves have eaten her.”

  “Can a Fire Elemental be eaten by werewolves?” wondered Dithean aloud.

  “Of course. And we make for a very wholesome feast.”

  “I’m not certain of that. Elementals are much like fairies, and no werewolf could devour me.”

  “Please, dear Dithean, the fairy legends that the Elementals are merely a branch of the fairy line are quite mistaken.”

  Dithean laughed. It was the fairies’ belief that the Elementals were indeed merely a type of fairy, but Malveria would never allow this to be true, claiming for herself a quite different heritage.

  “Distikka, while small, would be very nourishing. But I really hope she hasn’t been eaten. I’m very keen to attend this opera.”

  Chapter 96

  Albermarle’s subordinates, code-named Orion and Pictor, waited impatiently for their boss to arrive. They’d arranged to meet in the early evening, close to the warehouse in Kentish Town, but Albermarle hadn’t shown up. It was puzzling. Though Albermarle was an odd person and not popular in the guild, he was known to be punctual. They’d seen various revelers troop by on their way into the warehouse and had experienced a frisson of excitement when Dominil appeared: tall, white-haired, and distinctive. According to Albermarle, Dominil was a cousin of the Thane and held a seat on the Great Council of the MacRinnalchs. If they managed to kill her, their status in the Avenaris Guild would rise dramatically. Fellow hunters might talk about them in the same admiring way they talked of Easterly.

  “Where is he?” muttered Orion. “If he doesn’t get here soon, we’ll miss our chance.”

  His companion peered out the rear window of the white van that was parked half on the road, half on the pavement, anonymous among a long line of vehicles laid up for the night.

  “Probably still eating.”

  They laughed.

  “Is it true he really used to weigh three hundred and fifty pounds?” Albermarle had lost weight since those days, but his appetite for junk food was still legendary. The hunters stopped laughing, remembering they were here on serious business. They were armed, and they’d both spent a lot of time in the shooting range beneath guild headquarters.

  Kentish Town was quiet. The North London pubs had emptied, the kebab shops had closed, and the drinkers had gone home. Though the party at the warehouse was going on through the night, not many others were about. Minicabs drove by occasionally, and a double-decker night bus crawled up Highgate Road, but there were few pedestrians on the dark streets.

  “What if she appears again and Albermarle isn’t here?”

  “We follow orders. Observe, but don’t approach.”

  They flattened themselves in their seats as a police car cruised by, not wanting to be noticed and asked awkward questions. As the police car disappeared from view, Pictor nudged his companion. “There she is.”

  Dominil had reemerged from the warehouse, talked briefly to a young couple, then walked off alone. Orion engaged the engine and moved the van cautiously into the road. Ahead of them, Dominil took an abrupt turn and vanished down a side street.

  Orion turned into the same street then halted. Dominil was nowhere in sight. “Where is she?”

  The young hunters were unsure of what to do. Albermarle had instructed them to keep Dominil under observation until he arrived, but Albermarle hadn’t turned up, and now they were in danger of losing the werewolf. Orion, the senior of the pair, took control.

  “I’m going to look.” He opened the door.

  “We were told not to get out of the van,” protested his companion, but Orion slipped out and stood in the poorly illuminated street, straining for a sight or sound of Dominil.

  “She must have—” he began but didn’t finish the sentence. A white werewolf appeared from seemingly nowhere, moving at tremendous speed. She clamped her jaws around Orion’s shoulder, crushing the bone. Then, too quickly for Pictor to prevent it, she grabbed the door of the van and wrenched it open. Pictor found himself dragged half out of the vehicle, his face only inches away from the terrifying white beast’s jaws, which dripped with the blood of his companion.

  “I have a message for Albermarle,” growled Dominil, quite distinctly. Pictor shook with fear, terrified to actually hear a werewolf speak.

  “What message?” he gasped.

  Dominil picked up Orion’s unconscious body as easily as if it had been a doll and flung it into the van. “His attempts to frighten me aren’t working.”

  The werewolf closed the door without slamming it. Pictor saw her transform back to human. Still shaking with fear, he fumbled with the ignition key, finally started the van, and sped off.

  Dominil walked swiftly back to the warehouse. Two girls stumbled out of the entrance, clutching at each other for support.

  “It’s Pete’s girlfriend!” they cried. Dominil gave them her fiercest scowl, but they were too inebriated to notice and were loudly wondering if Dominil’s long white hair was natural as she went silently back into the warehouse.

  Chapter 97

  Moonglow was desperately anxious when she arrived home with Daniel. She’d driven them home, though she only had a provisional license and wasn’t insured to drive Daniel’s car. Normally a law-abiding woman, she’d only done it because of her concern that Daniel might be about to die. She wondered if she should take him to the hospital. Daniel thought he had food poisoning or perhaps the flu, but Daniel didn’t know about Malveria’s curse. They struggled upstairs.

  Kalix had to move sharply as Daniel slumped onto the couch.

  “Good night then?” asked Decembrius, assuming Daniel was drunk.

  Moonglow glared at him, not pleased to find him here. “He’s sick.” She paused. “Kalix, are you doing homework?”

  “No,” said Kalix, and she tried to hide her book by sitting on it.

  “It’s good that you’re doing homework!” said Moonglow, so excited by the development that she temporarily forgot Daniel.

  Kalix mumbled something inaudible and looked embarrassed. “What’s wrong with Daniel?”

  “I’m not sure. Help me lay him out on the couch.”

  Decembrius made to assist, but Kalix shooed him away. “You should go now.”

  “I thought I was helping you.”

  “Daniel needs peace. Go away.”

  “Fine,” growled Decembrius. “To hell with you.” Decembrius left swiftly, looking annoyed.

  Daniel had now given up protesting that he didn’t feel too badly. Sweat poured from his forehead, though he was shivering as if from the cold. Moonglow took the old gray blanket from the back of the couch and placed it over him.

  “I think he’s got the flu,” said Moonglow, dubiously. “I’ll get some paracetamol.”

  As she hunted in the kitchen cabinet for some
pills, Moonglow felt close to panic. Had the brief kiss really brought on Malveria’s curse? If it had, what would the result be? And what could she do about it? Should she tell Kalix? Kalix wouldn’t be able to help lift a Hiyasta curse, but perhaps Thrix could help. Moonglow resolved to watch Daniel closely. If he seemed to be getting worse, then she’d tell Kalix everything and apply to Thrix for assistance.

  Moonglow felt furious at Malveria. Why had she placed them under such a ridiculous curse in the first place? It was unreasonable. Although, reflected Moonglow, she had acceded to it willingly enough at the time. It had saved Kalix’s life.

  “Malveria could have just saved Kalix’s life anyway, without making up ridiculous curses,” she thought, angrily. “After all the help I’ve given her with makeup, not to mention comforting her after her fashion disasters.”

  Moonglow resolved to have some harsh words with the Fire Queen. Or would that just make everything worse? Moonglow worried more and didn’t know what to do about anything.

  Chapter 98

  Though Captain Easterly and Albermarle had never been friendly, the fight that erupted between them after Easterly bailed his cousin out of jail was their worst ever.

  “How,” raged Easterly, “am I supposed to get close to Thrix MacRinnalch if I have to leave in the middle of a fashion show to rescue my idiot cousin after he’s been caught trying to rob Dominil’s apartment? What were you doing there anyway?”

  “I needed to visit her flat while she was away.”

  “What for?”

  “It was part of my plan. But it went wrong. She moved out before I got there.”

  Albermarle had been in the process of letting himself into the flat with a duplicate key when he found himself confronted by an angry family member who’d called the police. Arriving unusually rapidly, they’d apprehended Albermarle. His claim that he thought he’d been visiting a friend’s apartment had failed to convince.

  On hearing the pitiful tale, Easterly came close to exploding. “You don’t need a plan to kill Dominil! You just shoot her with a silver bullet! Like you could have done tonight, except you decided to burgle her flat instead.”

  Albermarle squirmed. He was already in trouble with the guild. After he’d failed to turn up to meet his subordinates, one of them had been quite badly injured. Pictor had disobeyed orders by leaving the van, but Albermarle hadn’t been there to supervise him.

  “I’m amazed they haven’t thrown you out of the guild already. They probably will tomorrow when the board of directors meet.”

  They stood in one of the plushly carpeted corridors in their apartment block. The air was tinged with the scent of the many large potted plants that surrounded the elevator, well-tended in moist earth. Albermarle had the remnants of a bowl of cereal in his hand, and his huge T-shirt flopped outside his trousers.

  “I was gathering intelligence,” he mumbled defensively.

  “No, you weren’t. You were trying to psych her out. What did you plan to do in her flat? Write a message on the wall saying ‘I know where you live, I’m coming to get you’?”

  Albermarle’s face colored, but he didn’t reply.

  “Do you have any idea how pathetic this is? Your job is to kill Dominil, not get revenge on her. So what if she ignored you at university? No one cares. Just get over it.”

  “I am over it.”

  “Really? I notice you’ve put on about twenty pounds in the last two weeks.”

  Albermarle glanced at his bowl of cereal.

  “Who are you to talk?” he demanded, feeling he’d had enough criticism from his cousin. “If there’s anyone wasting time, it’s you. You’re going to fashion shows with this blond werewolf, taking her to dinner and who knows what else. Not much sign of werewolf-hunting going on there, is there? Maybe you should just marry her instead.”

  Easterly bristled. “All my actions have been fully approved by the guild.”

  “Only because you’ve spun them some story about Thrix being a sorceress. I think you like dating her.”

  “She is a sorceress, you moron,” said Easterly. “You can’t just shoot a werewolf like Thrix. A silver bullet won’t harm her.”

  “There’s never been a werewolf a silver bullet won’t harm,” sneered his large cousin.

  “She’s too well protected. Thrix is the most dangerous werewolf in London.”

  “I’d say Dominil is more dangerous than that phony sorceress. Dominil’s a psychopathic killer.”

  “Just because someone wouldn’t date you doesn’t make them a psychopathic killer. She’s a werewolf. Next time, just shoot her.”

  “You should take your own advice,” retorted Albermarle. “Nice suit you’re wearing, by the way. Did Thrix like it? Will she give you another date?”

  Easterly glared at Albermarle then abruptly abandoned the argument. He strode down the stairs towards his front door.

  “Maybe she’ll invite you to the castle!” yelled Albermarle at his retreating figure. “You can marry into the clan! Have werewolf babies! I know you love her!”

  When Easterly had disappeared, Albermarle gazed down at his empty cereal bowl. It looked very small in his hands. Still hungry, he tramped heavily upstairs to examine the contents of his fridge.

  Chapter 99

  It wasn’t far from Kentish Town to Camden, but the journey was an uncomfortable one for Dominil. Having thrown the twins and their equipment into the van, she hoped she might be able to bring the evening to an end without further humiliation. Beauty and Delicious were barely conscious. Unfortunately for Dominil, as they pulled away from the warehouse, they woke up.

  “Beauty, did I suffer some bizarre hallucination, or did Pete just tell the whole world he was in love with Dominil?”

  “I believe he did. But she discarded him.”

  “It’s heartless really.”

  “Cruel.”

  “Dominil’s like that. Just takes them off for a night of passion, breaks their hearts, then forgets them.”

  Dominil drove on.

  “At least the mystery is solved,” continued Delicious. “Pete isn’t miserable about any barmaids. He’s miserable about Dominil.”

  “I’m not surprised. Dominil’s a hot werewolf. She could pose for the Hot Werewolves calendar. Dominil, do you have a bikini?”

  “But seriously,” said Beauty, crawling forward in the van to place her face close behind Dominil. “Is this wise? You know we’re meant to be discreet. What’s the point of me and Delicious being careful if you’re going around seducing everyone? First you break that hunter’s heart at Oxford, and now he’s trying to kill us all. And then you break Pete’s heart, and it practically ruins the band—”

  “And don’t forget Sarapen,” interjected Delicious, emerging from the mass of pink hair that covered her face. “She drove him crazy too. That almost destroyed the clan.”

  “It’s like nothing’s safe when she’s around.”

  Dominil drove on, refusing to respond to the sisters’ mockery, though her face twitched slightly when they were held up by the traffic light at Camden tube station.

  “So what was it like with Pete? Did you let yourself go?” Delicious asked mischievously.

  “Did you do anything wolf-like?”

  There was a brief diversion while the twins discussed various lovers they’d had in the past and occasions where they’d almost let their werewolf identities be discovered through bouts of passion.

  “Because you know, when you get that excited, you can be tempted just to let the werewolf emerge.”

  “Of course. Any girl would.”

  “Dominil more than most, probably. The way she pretends to be reserved then just lets the passion burst out.”

  The van pulled up in the side street outside the twins’ house. Dominil emerged from the van, opened the back door, and lifted up an amplifier. “Are you going to help?”

  The twins shrugged.

  “Have you slept with any more of the band we don’t know about?” Beau
ty asked.

  Dominil proceeded to unload the equipment herself, carrying it swiftly indoors and dumping it in the hallway. If any of the neighbors were watching through their curtains, they might have been surprised at the ease with which the tall, white-haired woman carried such heavy items. They wouldn’t have been surprised at the way Beauty and Delicious stumbled about, doing nothing to help.

  “I think I’ve lost a hair extension,” said Delicious, and she sat down in the front garden. “Still, the gig went well.”

  “No, it didn’t,” hissed Dominil, marching past with a guitar in each hand. “It was a terrible performance.”

  “Be fair,” protested Delicious. “Who can play a gig when half the band is pining for you? We never had a chance.”

  Beauty and Delicious each felt themselves yanked to their feet by their collars.

  “The equipment is inside,” said Dominil, leading them into the house. “I’m leaving now.”

  Dominil returned to the van, closed the door quietly, and drove off. She was irritated beyond measure. As soon as she arrived home, she took one of her carefully measured sips of laudanum. She looked at her bottle. Though she regulated her addiction carefully, her intake had risen very slightly. The stress caused by looking after the twins while simultaneously fighting the Avenaris Guild was considerable, even for her.

  She knew that she could end the stress by moving back to the castle in Scotland. The Mistress of the Werewolves, the Great Council, and her father would all welcome her back. But Dominil refused to admit defeat. She wasn’t going back until events in London had run their course.

  Chapter 100

  Princess Kabachetka threw the ancient book on the ground, picked it up, examined it with disgust, then threw it on the ground again. She considered stamping on it, but refrained for fear of damaging her elegant heels. “This ridiculous spell cannot be done,” she yelled, though there was no one in her private cavern to hear her. “And I’m sick of practicing magic in this cave when I should be in my comfortable chambers making ready for tonight’s festivities.” The princess had spent all day trying to perfect a spell that would recreate the effects of the lunar eclipse on Earth. “It’s all very well for Distikka to talk glibly about removing the enchantress’s powers,” she cried. “She’s not the one who has to devise the spell. I’m no good at devising spells!”