Willing Sacrifice

by Cree Walker

  Jack stepped out of the shadows. “Can I come in?” I wanted to tell him, you are in, but parts of this weren’t making sense. “Jack, am I dreaming?”

  He nodded, “You can run but you can’t hide.”

  “I don’t belong to you, Jack.”

  “The old witch didn’t tell you did she? You’re on my list Sugar, and only bad girls end up on my list. So, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You were already supposed to die anyway. Just come outside; we’ll go for a run together, then I’ll make it quick and painless. We’ll be together, the way it’s suppose to be Sugar.”

  I sat transfixed with a combination of terror and exhaustion. How long could I outrun him? When Robert’s mother asked me what Jack did in life she was talking about his job as a bounty hunter for the Elders. But the truth was there was never anyone Jack couldn’t find. He was ruthless and I doubted death and his sense of retribution dulled that blade any. “No.” I breathed into the darkness.

  “Why won’t you die!” He screamed, his face contorting into a mask of rage.

  “Because you were never the one.”

  The balcony doors blew open with the wind and I sat up in the bed fully awake. Robert was already closing them by the time I took my next breath.

  “He’s still hunting me.”

  Robert’s sleepy face hardened. “He can’t get you here, baby.” He crawled under the warmth of the blankets next to me.

  “He can if I sleep.”

  Without missing a beat Robert smiled. “Then, let’s not sleep.”

  It took him less than ten seconds to convince me, as I remembered his touch from that morning, so we didn’t sleep until the sun rose.

  I walked down the stairs and into the front entrance of the house. The kitchen was just off the main entrance and everyone was already seated at the table for breakfast. I felt a blush crawl up my cheeks as I remembered one person banging on their bedroom wall for us to keep it down during the night.

  Robert beamed proudly and offered me the chair next to him at the table.

  I sat down stiffly feeling shy, a trait not taken very well by the werewolves. “Good morning.”

  An old woman sitting at the table scowled. “I’m surprised you can even walk without a cane after the night the two of you had.”

  I choked on my juice while Robert patted my back and I gasped for breath. “Grandma, be nice. She’s not used to you yet.”

  “What is there to get used to? Try getting used to the sound of a headboard plowing its way through your bedroom wall at three o’clock in the morning?”

  I was still choking and at this point I was hoping it took so I wouldn’t have to look that old woman in the eyes ever again.

  “Sheesh you sure are noisy for a girl who never talks.”

  “Mother,” Robert’s mother begged.

  I found my voice. “Sorry.”

  “Well that’s better and it’s about time our little Scooter brought home a girl anyway.” She straightened in her chair and grabbed a muffin out of the basket in the center of the table ignoring her plain oatmeal.

  There were only three wolves besides Scooter’s… I mean Robert’s family. All were misfits, none had mated and their time to do so had passed them by. It was like living in a nursing home for aging wolves. This was the reason Robert had to leave and the reason he had never challenged his father. There wasn’t one single female werewolf in the state of Oregon.

  His grandparents’ names were Estelle, one hundred and eight, and Malcolm, one hundred twelve. They had one son and that was Robert’s father, James, eighty-eight. Robert’s mother, Nina, is eighty-four, and the three cast-a-ways were Buford, age one hundred twenty-three, which he was extremely proud to flaunt because he was the oldest, Mavis, age one hundred and eleven, and Malcolm’s twin brother Gregory, one hundred and twelve. The cast-a-ways all looked to be in their mid to late seventies and it made me wonder how old Jack’s grandmother was since she already did look one hundred and twelve.

  “So what about you girlie?” Malcolm asked me after their introductions were made.

  “I’m Sugar.”

  “No, Mavis corrected. You’re Sugar Coon, the Born from bitten werewolf.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So how was old Jack in the bedroom?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  My face flamed up again.

  “My goodness, this girl blushes for nothing.”

  “She wasn’t raised in this house.” Robert mumbled. “They were never mated.” He said louder.

  “Why?” Gregory piped up.

  “We were separated, he lost me in the Challenges.”

  “To whom?” Greg demanded.

  “My father.”

  Their eyes widened but no one asked.

  “My dad wanted me to lead the bitten pack.”

  “Why’d Jack die then?” Nina asked genuinely curious.

  I shrugged, “I guess the same reason I didn’t… he had a broken heart.”

  Nina agreed with a nod and offered me a muffin from the basket. Question time was over for now.

  “After breakfast I have to talk to you both privately.”

  “Hey, why can’t we hear?” Malcolm demanded.

  “Because you all are so old you could drop dead at any minute and if Jack were to catch scent of any of you... he'd get the information he wanted.” James said matter-of-factly. “And don’t think it won’t hurt ’cause you’re already dead. If being dead didn’t hurt, old Jack wouldn’t be sitting on our welcome mat howling at the red moon.”

  “What’s the red moon?” I whispered to Robert.

  “Hell’s moon, Sugar.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head.

  I thought about Jack’s list for a minute. If he fetched souls for Hell and I was on his list I wondered what I had done to get there. Sure I hadn’t been an innocent, but I had to fight back to survive. Maybe somewhere between watching my back and protecting those I loved, I had become the monster.

  We met in the salon again. This time Robert and James came too. They each sat in oversized chairs while Robert and I shared a couch across from them.

  “So what do you think Mom?” Robert asked as we sat down.

  “I think we’re screwed.” She sighed. “I’ve never heard of a person throwing a Hell Hound before. Once they got you tagged… they have forever, we don’t.”

  My heart sank. “So, that’s it?”

  “Don’t get any idea’s Sugar. Don’t make his job too easy on him.”

  “The sooner the better, at least it would be going on my terms.”

  Robert froze next to me.

  “If you do that Sugar, you will be killing my son as well.” Nina locked eyes with me. “You’re connected now.”

  I turned on Robert, “You said it wouldn’t happen.”

  “I didn’t think it would; not right away, anyway.” He brushed my hair back with a finger and smiled. “I’m sorry, love.”

  “Am I connected too?” I asked Nina urgently.

  She watched me for a long moment before a warm smile washed over her face. “Yes, you are too.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to remember when it happened… at the balcony doors? Our first real kiss? Our first time together?

  “It started the first time you met.” Nina said as if I had voiced my thoughts aloud.

  “The very first time you met. On the day of the Challenges, but the Circle wasn’t completed until meeting a second time. This has been a long time in coming for you both.”

  Suddenly my indiscretion with Gage made sense and hurt all that much more. I was fighting it; I was fighting Robert.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” I asked.

  He looked as if he wouldn’t answer at first, and then said, “You would have run away.”

  He was so right; I had no argument.

  Everyone sat in silence for a moment and I felt I had to explain myself further. “I did love Jack. I just didn’t love him enough.”

&n
bsp; “You do love him, Sugar. How could you not? He was your savior,” Nina stated.

  “How could I love someone like that?” I asked angrily. “He killed people with no reason other than a command from on high. He tricked, lied and took whatever he wanted.” I thought of Brian and Sarah, my anger darkening that much more with the reminder.

  “He was only trying to protect his pack from the same people who gave the kill orders Sugar. He wasn’t a bad man, he was made that way over time but parts of him were still pure.” Nina straightened, “I don’t know the whole story Sugar, but from what I heard he was almost killed when he brought you home?”

  “His grandmother said that was her idea.” I sobbed. “She said she was like me and if I told anyone they would kill Kyle and Brian.”

  James and Nina looked to one another. “Get in here.”

  The five misfit geriatrics wandered into the salon with the decency to look ashamed. “From where does Elder Coon derive?” James commanded the walking talking five volume history of werewolves standing before him.

  No one said anything at first but Gregory swayed on his feet, looking torn. “That old goat is inbred,” he spat the words as if he’d waited his whole life to say it. “She’s a product of a father daughter pairing. You can’t find the paper trail on that one for a good reason.” Gregory griped.

  “You’re sure?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t always a single man, little Miss Sugar. She and I almost married once. I’ve been holding that scary bit of information inside for too long now. She’s unbalanced, and the very reason I ended up on the west coast.”

  “That fucking bitch!” I screamed.

  “Ah, she’s found her voice now.” Gregory cried triumphantly.

  “I told you all you had to do was piss her off.” Robert patted my back proudly.

  “So what’s the next step?” Robert asked the obvious question to the room.

  It was my turn to vent, “We take down the Council.”

  I might as well have started doing the hula for all the good that announcement gave me. But slowly their shocked mouths started to close and brilliant life flickered in their cataract filled gazes.

  “They’re corrupt, they’ve been twisting the system for too long and I or anyone I love won’t be safe with them in power.” I looked at Robert, “We have no future until we do this.”

  Robert looked deep in thought and for a few long moments I wondered if I was worth this risk to him and the pack. He brushed his fingers delicately over his bottom lip and straightened finally. “Who else do you think is on Jack’s list?”

  No one spoke while we considered what on earth Robert was thinking.

  “Jack’s main reason in life was to protect you… maybe if you’re threatened he would unintentionally help us in this little matter?”

  “Jack wants me dead; anyone helping in that department would be helping him.” I said.

  “Ah, but I think his initial instinct to protect you might override that little fact. If anyone will be killing you my dear, it’s Jack Coon himself.”

  “Are you willing to bet her life on it?” Robert’s father asked.

  “I’m betting both our lives on it.” He said.

  Nina and I sat alone in the salon brainstorming our first attack. First we needed to get Jack’s attention. He had to listen to what we had to say. We had to find out who else was on his list and make sure the Council names were on it, and if not we had to figure out how to get them there.

  Nina pulled out an ancient book from a dusty unused shelf. She leafed through it briefly until she found the page she was looking for. It was written in Latin and she sped through the complicated text as if it were a child’s book. Suddenly a brilliant smile spread across her beautiful face and she looked up at me. “He has a Handler.”

  “What?” I sat up and leaned forward to look at the place her finger was resting on the weathered page.

  “I knew I read this at some point but it’s been ages. Every werewolf to go into the fires of Hell becomes an agent of the Goddess Hel. They become Barghest or Hellhounds and serve to collect the souls of the damned.” She waved her hand as she skimmed through the rest of the section in silence. “Ah, here it is. Only a Reaper can control the Barghest and use them to search for the souls on their given list as their time comes due.” She looked up at me her eyes sparkling with hope.

  “But, Jack is trying to kill me now?”

  “We have to find his Handler. The Reaper will know how to get Jack. I think Jack may have gotten off his leash some how, but the Reaper will be able to get him back, and if we can convince this Reaper to help us I don’t think Jack will have a choice.”

  “How do we find the Grim Reaper?” I asked still on the side of pessimistic.

  “We don’t have to find the Reaper, just a Reaper and the best place to find one is at the hour of death. We can see them… I think it has something to do with our connection to one another.”

  “So we go to a hospital?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding we don’t have that much time. If living with old people has taught me anything it’s that death waits with baited breath on our doormat. We’re going to a nursing home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Lonesome Pine Manor was a renovated mansion from the 1900’s. Nina, James, Robert and I were all crammed into the front bench seat of a 1990 Dodge Ram pick-up truck as we climbed the paved hill to the old Manor. We leaned forward as one to look up at the towering brick building and I think I half expected lightening to strike in the distance. This place was Creepy with a capitol C, and any respectable Adams Family fan would appreciate its dilapidated walls.

  I looked at the front doors hoping to see a black robed reaper standing at its entrance expectantly, as Nina had pledged.

  “Nothing,” I whispered aloud.

  Nina nearly giggled beside me. “We’ll go inside and have a look around.”

  The main nursing station complete with one bored nurse standing guard was just inside the front lobby. A pitbull of a woman wearing a strict white uniform stood with an almost pissed off expression at having been roused from her Sudoku. “Can I help you?”

  “We’re here to see my father. We were called?” Nina said with a sorrowful look in her eyes. The nurse looked annoyed further but clicked her mouse a few times before returning her look to us. “Mr. Benjamin is your father?” She looked doubtful.

  “Adopted,” Nina said without missing a beat.

  Nurse Ratchet softened a little. “He’s in room 443 on the fourth floor.”

  Nina sniffed and straightened, “Thank you.”

  We followed her down the long hall and up the stairway to the fourth floor in silence. We lined up facing room 443’s solid pale oak door and paused before entering. Inside a man was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling with outstretched arms. He was mumbling something under his breath but the television noise distorted what it was. A young girl maybe my age or a year or two younger sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap and a serene expression on her innocent looking face.

  “Sorry,” I backed into Robert. “I think we’ve got the wrong room.”

  She turned her solemn look on me and smiled kindly. “No Sugar, I’m the one you seek.”

  The static feeling I quickly connected with that of Jack’s presents washed over me gently. She was the Reaper, and she was not at all what I expected.

  “Let me finish up here and then we can talk.” She rose with the grace of a dancer and bent to lay a gentle kiss on the brow of the old man. She brushed her hand softly over his liver spotted head and whispered something in his ear. His eyes flashed absolute comprehension past the fog of dementia that ate away at his mind and he nodded to the girl as she stood and took his hand. She closed her eyes at the same moment he closed his and one last breath passed his lips and he was dead. When she opened her eyes again her dark lashes were lined with tears. She took a deep breath and offered me a chair across from her.

  My eyes d
arted to the body and back again.

  “It’s okay Sugar; they won’t notice his death until the rounds are made.”

  I sat down and sat as straight as I could in the leaning recliner intended for relaxation.

  She nodded for me to begin once she herself was seated again.

  “I think you or someone you know is missing a Hellhound?”

  “And you’ve come to barter him in return for what?” She said this so matter-of-factly it made me feel dirty. Suddenly I realized my life would mean little to her, she dealt in life and death every day, why should mine matter to her?

  “You are not on any list Sugar.” She said suddenly as if she had read my mind. “Your husband has made his own rules.”

  “Can he be Handled?” I asked.

  “He is not mine to claim. The Reaper you seek is another.”

  My heart fell; which Reaper would it be? For all I knew it was across the world.

  She smiled that sad smile again, “The Reaper you seek is here looking for Jack. A Barghest is dangerous without its Handler and his services are needed.”

  “Will he help me?” I asked her reluctantly.

  Her look hardened temporarily. “You have Jack, which means the Reaper in question has no choice but to help you in return… but think hard little one, as for what you ask. Very few Reapers are indebted to a soul, much less that of a wolf. Consider your trade carefully; it may cost you more than the Barghest and Hell is no place for a soul like yours.” She lowered a hand and a huge black dog slipped silently out of the shadows from behind the bed. Its large head hung in submission to the Reaper as she reached out and touched it softly.

  It looked to me with piercing red eyes then lowered its gaze again. I had to ask, “Why is it a dog and not a wolf?”

  The sweet reaper leaned forward and whispered for me to hear. “Because there is no freedom in Hell, and a wolf is nothing if not freedom epitomized.”

  “Jack looks like a wolf when he comes to me in my dreams.” I said eying the perfectly behaved dog as it sat at a heel beside its Master.

  “Jack has not imprinted to his Handler yet. Once he does he will take on a different form, and you will be free of him at last.”