Howling Shadows

by C. N. Owens

  “Fuck you. I’ll kill the baby.”

  A smile spreads across Naamah’s face. “I have ways of getting what I want.”

  My feet begin to sting. The grass has turned on me, cutting into me like razor blades. I look back to Naamah, and she nods.

  “Leila, I can make your existence difficult. Don’t force me to be cruel.” She appears inches away from me, and with a gentle touch on my forehead, I collapse. The ground is soft, so soft… It feels like a bed of moss. Naamah doesn’t move, her expression blank. The soil comes alive, like millions of ants. Beginning with my legs and arms, it sucks me down, now covering my chest… I can’t breathe. The living earth crawls into my ears and tickles my cheeks; I want to scream but the breath won’t come. Is this it? Has my mouth gotten me into trouble for the last time? I look to Naamah again; she could be a statue in her stillness.

  “Please…” I mouth the word.

  “It’ll be over, soon.” The earth’s feverish attempt to swallow me slows down. “I see the thoughts racing through your mind, of your hero. I can smell the chemical signals you release for him even now. You must know that a relationship with him won’t work. Lambs have no place among wolves, other than in our bellies.”

  ***

  I wake up before the dirt covers my face, gasping for air. My thin tank top clings to my sweat-drenched chest. I jump out of bed and collapse to my knees, not three steps from my bedroom door. My hands tremble… I know what’s coming. “Just a dream, just a dream,” I repeat aloud. You are the doorway, she said with a soft, comforting voice. It all makes sense. She said the same things that Bento did in the hospital. Bringer of Plagues repeats in my mind. She’s proud of that name; I remember reading the Bible when I was kid:

  When the Lord goes through the land to strike down the Egyptians, he will see the blood on the top and sides of the doorframe and will pass over that doorway, and he will not permit the destroyer to enter your houses and strike you down.

  It is a verse from Exodus—the plague of the first born must be her crowning achievement. I look off, feeling a little better when I fan my chest with my baggy shirt. The one thing I have over demons will always be free will.

  “Your threats don’t scare me,” I whisper and close my eyes, feeling brave. Suddenly, I want to wake Trent and tell him what just happened. He deserves to know… Maybe he can help.

  I open my eyes, almost giddy as I put together what I’ll say to him. I smile and scratch my ear and find it’s full of dirt—the same fluffy moss from my dream.

  Barely containing a screech, I run out of the room at a full gallop, headed for the one person I know that can help me.

  ***

  Cassie

  It’s 3:00 a.m., and I’m about to take off for one of my favorite donors to feed, but Leila exploding from her bedroom gets my attention. She disappears into Trent’s room as I sneak up to the second floor and dip into a shadow, listening to what’s going on.

  “Trent, I really need you tonight,” Leila says with a shaky voice.

  I hear a sigh. “Leila, this is a bad idea,” Trent says.

  Moments later, Leila walks out of his room, slips down the steps, and stops in the living room. I follow silently, and watch her from a safe spot in a deep shadow. I’ve heard Leila go to Trent many times in the middle of the night. I’ve also peeked into his room, wanting to lie with him and found the two curled up together, sound asleep. He denies it, but I would be blind not to see that she’s wearing him down. They’ve become inseparable. He even took her out for a ride on his motorcycle, and I never knew he owned one. Animal instincts drive her simplest of actions; it’s obvious she is forming a bond with him, imprinting, like a pup with her patriarch. Even if she wasn’t whittling away at his defenses, showing him unshakable loyalty, she’s naturally beautiful, with her snow-white hair and almond-shaped gray eyes.

  She wobbles in place for a second before dropping to her knees. “God, please help me,” she whispers aloud. She begins to rock herself, and it becomes obvious what she’s trying to suppress. I debate for a moment trying to comfort her but dash again upstairs.

  “Trent,” I whisper. He’s lying in bed, facing away from me.

  “Yes?” he grumbles, his voice lined with agitation.

  “You need to come down here.”

  “Get lost, Cass, I’m not in the mood.”

  “Trent, she’s shifting in your living room.” I knew that would get him out of bed. He shoots downstairs faster than me, sneaking into the living room behind her. She hasn’t begun losing her human form yet, but the change is well underway. The stench of rotting meat hangs on the air with a mucosal thickness; another reason I’m happy I don’t have to breathe.

  “Hey, girlie, you doing all right?” he asks with a calm, soothing voice.

  “I’m sorry; I don’t think I can stop it this time.” Her voice is a few octaves deeper than it should be and pregnant with pain.

  He gracefully slides around and kneels on the floor in front of her. “Hey, you need to calm down, you’re safe.”

  “I dreamt of a demon,” she says, whimpering. “She’s begging me to help her.” He rests his hands on her shoulders, and she relaxes a little. No doubt, even his touch is something she needs at this moment. “And then the other nightmares on top of that.”

  “You never told me about those.”

  “When I close my eyes, even right now, I can still see them. I was so young, it was years ago, and like it was yesterday, I can feel the filthy things they did to me. Hundreds of men. It repeats in my mind over and over. I feel like I’m going crazy!”

  “Oh, Leila, now’s not the time to talk about this, we’re trying to calm you down,” Trent says as she slumps a little more in his hands.

  “I was just a little girl, and they took my innocence!” She sobs. He pulls her toward him and then looks up at me, cradling the young alpha in his arms. With empty eyes and a blank expression, he shakes his head. I knew we didn’t have much of a chance to calm her down, but I figured we could try.

  “Leila, I’m so very sorry for what they did to you. I swear I will never let anyone hurt you again. I’ll always protect you.” His voice sounds weak, more so than I’ve ever heard.

  “Never let me go,” she says. “Please promise me that.”

  “I’ll always be there; I’ve got your back,” he says, and slides his fingers through her hair, resulting in a fistful coming out in his hand. He stands, lifting her up with him. “We need to get her outside.”

  “I’ll take her,” I say, and gently lead her by the arm. She complies, turning for me, but still hesitant. We begin walking away, but she stops, taking me by the arm with such strength that she pulls me around to face her. Her skin is rotting, becoming slippery and wrinkled like greasy cellophane, it threatens to slough off with the lightest touch.

  “What about Trent?” she asks.

  “He can’t come, dear.”

  She turns and runs for him, collapsing in his arms.

  “Leila.” Trent laughs. “I won’t be very happy if you destroy my house.”

  “Please come with me, I can’t be alone during this. I’m scared.”

  Without another word, Trent lifts her up and rushes her out to the driveway. He sets her down on her feet, and she immediately collapses, spitting teeth onto the whitened asphalt.

  “Should we get her out of her clothes?”

  Trent shakes his head. “Not enough time.” We back away when she lets out a piercing shriek, along with the sounds of splintering wood—her bones breaking and popping. Soon after, she's on all fours. Her wispy body is unrecognizable, torn and stretched as she molts into her other form, a massive wolf-ape fused, nine feet tall on all fours and probably a thousand pounds. Most of her hair has fallen out, leaving grayish opaque skin and a narrow strip of clear, bristly hair from her head to her hindquarters.

  Leila turns and faces us. Her yellow eyes focus on me, and she bares her teeth.
r />   “Are we safe?” I ask.

  “Be ready to run, just in case,” he says, watching her as though his life depended on it. She lets out a growl and takes off into the field, coming back moments later with a giant boar in her mouth and shredding it before returning to us.

  “You know what’s happening with her,” Cassie says.

  “Yes, I do.” He turns and walks farther into the field as Leila approaches. She snarls, and he opens his arms. She comes for him and nudges his chest so hard it nearly knocks him over. He pets her like a dog, smoothing back her pointed ears and scratching her quill-like strip of hair before stepping away, flinging a handful of infectious fluid onto the grass. “Go, baby girl.”

  He waves her off again, and like a massive bear, she turns and runs, kicking up a plume of vegetation behind her.

  “How well would she do, with one of your kind as her keeper?” I walk close and take his arm—the clean one.

  “Cassie, I know what I’m doing.”

  “You realize the power she will have if she gives birth to a child.”

  “I’ve thought about that, and I know the risks. Earning her trust is the best solution I have right now.” He pulls away again when Leila stalks up and collapses onto the damp grass, her skin wilting, hair falling out.

  ***

  Leila

  I wake in darkness, cold and vulnerable, encapsulated in a gelatinous body, and I can’t breathe.

  Soon, there is a shudder and a hand grabbing my arm, delivering me cold and slimy into the world. I tumble into someone’s lap… a man’s lap.

  “I’m so happy it was you,” slips out of my mouth without any thought. The moment I open my eyes, I realize that seeing him in my other form changed my perspective. I feel something more now, I can feel his heart beating, the bones underneath his skin; I understand everything now.

  “It’s real,” I say as I glance to my right and watch the remnant of my other form decaying, fluttering away like ash on the gentle breeze.

  “What are you talking about, silly?” He smiles, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

  “Come on, young lady. I’ll get you cleaned up,” Cassie says, kneeling beside us.

  I don’t move for a long time, lost in his eyes, wishing I could see his soul. I want to consume him, meld into him. I take a breath, knowing that my feelings transcend love, knowing that the man I’m lying with is meant to be my other half. “I’m yours,” I stammer.

  He smiles, his expression full of longing, but he refuses to respond and sits back so Cassie can help me stand. She wraps me up in a thick towel and leads me away. I look behind us to catch a glimpse of him one last time, and there he is, shirtless, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of some old cargo shorts that he likes to sleep in.

  I can’t go. With my eyes full of tears and my heart in my throat, I shrug away from Cassie and run for him. My towel falls away. I ignore it, I ignore the world and everything in it, except for this man who has never judged me and, despite everything, has healed me more than any drug, or anyone else in my life.

  I don’t bother to slow down. I just leap into his arms at full speed. He catches me with ease, and I splatter naked against his powerful bare chest. I am so slippery that I almost slide out of his arms, but he clasps his hands under my backside and hikes me up until our lips meet in an earthy-tasting kiss. A million thoughts race through my mind; any one of which would have normally sent me cowering, but all of that is unimportant, everything has faded away until the only thing that matters is how I’m going to convince this man to keep me.

  Chapter 25

  Trent

  A couple weeks have passed since I saw Leila in wolf form. It’s early evening, and I'm getting tired of sitting around the house. I haven’t had this many people living here since I bought it, so naturally I’m feeling cramped. I plan for a night out alone, but before I could slip out the door, she appears.

  “Hey,” Leila says and takes a step into my room, hands behind her back.

  “Hey there,” I say back.

  “Got big plans tonight?” she asks with a silly little grin.

  I only see her out of the corner of my eye. I don’t want to look at her; I know she’ll only ask more questions, and with more questions comes the chance that she might see what I’m doing, and with it, she will see the truth.

  “Yes.” I slam my guitar case shut and hurry out of my room.

  ***

  Leila

  “You look bored,” Cassie says, emerging from her room at sunset. Her skin is as pale as mine, and her dark wavy hair is always perfect, not a strand out of place, even after sleeping.

  “I’m okay,” I respond, and flip to another TV channel, pretending not to be jealous of how perfect she is, with her smooth skin and emerald eyes. She’s completely recovered; her strength must be beyond measure and hard for her to control. Just the other night I watched her snap the door handle off her bedroom door without thinking. That was the fourth time she did it in recent weeks.

  She walks over and sits on the couch, paying little attention to the television. “Where’s that big brooding man?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me. He left with a guitar case.”

  “Oh, that’s perfect. Get dressed, little one, we’re going out!”

  I hiss, shaking my head. “No thanks, he made it obvious he doesn’t want me near him.”

  Cassie hisses. “Let’s take a chance, I’m sure you’re wrong.”

  “Why? Why does it matter? I don’t want to bother him. He seemed angry.”

  “Leila, get dressed, or I’ll dress you myself… wear something cute.”

  ***

  We leave an hour later, heading for an unknown location, an old building in town which looks like a run-down barn. Cassie pulls into a parking spot, her immaculate European car looking out of place, surrounded by old well-used domestics. Even from the outside, I can hear music playing and the drone of a voice singing.

  “Why are we here? Will you please tell me?”

  “He comes here thinking he’s helping children… it’s a bar.” She giggles.

  “I’ve never been to a Moose Lodge before.”

  “Prepare to be the youngest person in attendance.” Cassie climbs out of the car.

  We enter into a smoky lounge with a horseshoe-shaped bar, surrounded by tables and chairs. All eyes turn to us as we enter, mostly older and middle-aged couples. I hear a few call Cassie’s name as we round the bar, and an older lady greets her with a hug. When I step onto dance floor, my attention turns to one person.

  On the other side of the room, Trent sits on a bar stool with a dark-blue guitar in his lap. He nearly kisses the microphone as he sings with a deep, true voice, paying attention to his easel. He glances at the crowd, but his eyes jerk back to his lines. I hope he saw me, and I hope he loves the purple dress I picked out.

  Well, my name’s John Lee Pettimore… same as my daddy and his daddy before…

  Cassie comes up from behind and locks arms with me. “This is why we’re here.” She looks at me and smiles. “He’s got a thing for Garth Brooks, too.”

  You could smell the whiskey burnin’ down Copperhead Road…

  “What a silly song,” I say, while secretly loving the sound of his voice.

  The song continues, and I relax a bit. He’s way over there. I don’t have to explain why I’m here uninvited, and I can admire him from across the room. I’m satisfied with that. He glances at me a couple more times, and once, I think I see a smile. The song comes to an end and I turn to walk away, but Cassie holds me with an iron grip. I hate that she’s trying to play matchmaker… I could do this myself.

  He steps off the barstool and crosses the dance floor. “Cassie,” he says, and kisses her gently on the cheek. I gasp when his hand touches mine before he even steps away from Cassie, as if the anxiety was written on my face and he could tell that I wanted to escape. He pulls me toward him and remains silent for a lon
g time.

  “I didn’t expect to see you,” he says, his voice deep and calm. A half smirk makes a cute dimple in his cheek.

  “I know, I’m sorry… Cassie talked me into it,” I stammer, instantly losing my nerve the moment his eyes lock onto mine. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

  “Well, now you do.” He smiles and shoves me away gently, spinning me as though we’re dancing and then pulls me toward him again. “You look incredible.”

  I can’t stop smiling. “Thank you,” I say, flushing several shades of red. A man walks past us and pats Trent on the shoulder and gives him a wink. “I feel like a stalker.”

  He measures with his fingers. “Just a little”—he laughs—“but I’ll let it slide this time.”

  I slap his chest. “Stop it.”

  “I’m kidding. It’s not much, but welcome. You’re among a group of the finest people in Polk County. I’ve known them for a long time.”

  “I do feel welcome,” I say, smiling.

  He looks down at my little cotton dress and tan cowboy boots. “You fit right in. Look at them boots!”

  I laugh. “I thought Cassie had lost her mind when she told me to wear them, but I get it now.”

  “You make it look good,” he says and pulls me close again. “And that mascara”—he shakes his head—“I guess it's the way the light hits ’em, but I’m always left guessing the color of your eyes: gray, violet, sometimes a little red… but they've never looked as blue as they do tonight.”

  “Thank you.” I smile, still red-faced, damning myself for sweating, but I love how he knows all the right things to say.

  “We have a special visitor tonight!” the man says from the stage. The crowd cheers, and he points down at me. “I have a song in mind for the couple. I hope you guys enjoy it.” He smiles and waves to the band behind him.

  It’s a slower song, and Trent wraps me up in his arms, urging me to sway with him as others join us on the dance floor.