The Witch and the Werewolf

by Michele Hauf

  * * *

  The next morning Mireio awoke to a constant knock at the patio door. She climbed out of bed, checked that Charlie was still sleeping, safe and sound in his baby carrier, then pulled on her robe and wandered down the stairs. She spied the dirt tracked through the kitchen and couldn’t recall if the police officers had done that.

  Last night two officers had returned from a search of the cornfield and had knocked at the patio door. They’d informed her whoever it had been was nowhere to be found, and then had taken half an hour going through her home and the bedroom. She’d had the forethought to toss Lars’s clothes, which he’d pulled off before they’d made love, into the hamper so they wouldn’t question where the man of the house was.

  And now she followed the dirt tracks down the hallway, even as the knocks sounded gently at the back door—Mrs. Henderson could wait—and into the living room, where she found Lars sleeping on the couch, one arm thrust over his head and hair splayed across his face. His jeans were unzipped and he wore no shoes. He’d found the clothes she’d laid out for him after the policemen had left and must have quietly slipped in sometime during the early-morning hours.

  Tiptoeing to the back door, she opened the creaky screen door and stepped out onto the patio so Mrs. Henderson could not come inside.

  “Everything is okay,” she offered immediately. “I called Lars last night and he came home right away. He’s inside sleeping now. And so is Charlie. We’re all good.”

  Mrs. Henderson clutched her arm with a squeezing reassurance. “You know what I was thinking last night as I watched the police search the cornfield?”

  “What’s that?”

  “What if it was the Sasquatch?”

  “Oh, Mrs. Henderson, I don’t think Sasquatches exist. And if they did, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have the stealth to sneak into a house and steal a baby. I followed a man through the cornfield. It was probably a burglar who decided to give kidnapping a try. The police said they’d return today when the sun was up to look for evidence.”

  Of which, she hoped, none would be found. Lars had been naked. He couldn’t have left anything behind. Except DNA. No. All they’d find might be a stray wolf hair.

  “I brought you some orange cranberry muffins.” Mrs. Henderson pointed to the plate she’d set on the patio table. “Are you sure you’re okay, Mireio?”

  “Positive. Now that my husband is here, we’re good.”

  “You make sure he stays with you tonight. Just in case.”

  “I will. Thanks for the muffins. Lars will appreciate them.”

  Her neighbor reluctantly left, waving as she crossed into her yard through the narrow space in the lilacs. Mireio was beginning to wonder if she should plant roses, with thorns, in that space. The woman was a busybody. If she had never called the police everything would be fine.

  As it was, she wouldn’t stop worrying until the police returned and marked the case off as cold.

  She returned to the kitchen and grabbed her phone just as it buzzed with a text. She didn’t want it to wake Lars. Eryss texted that she was headed back to town and had left the baby with Dane in California. She wanted to get together to party.

  “Will do,” Mireio whispered as she texted back.

  Then she opened her photograph app to look for a party pic to send, but smiled when the first ones to come up were from the day she and Lars had been kayaking. And the one before that when she’d captured him lying in the tall grasses with the baby snuggled up on his chest. White daisies dotted Lars’s beard and he’d beamed as if a ray of sunshine. The man was so happy when he had Charlie in his arms.

  Sighing, Mireio tiptoed into the living room, where Lars snored. The poor man. He was degenerating faster. And now, more than ever, she was determined to go ahead with her plan. She had to.

  To save her husband’s life.

  * * *

  Even though the lasagna didn’t have any meat in it, it was hearty and filling. Lars finished his fourth square and eyed the casserole dish. One slice left. His pretty new wife winked at him and nudged the dish toward him.

  “Thanks. This stuff is awesome.”

  “I promise to feed you until you’re stuffed every night. That wasn’t in the marriage vows, but I will make good on it.”

  “I know you will. And I promise to help you plant a new lilac shrub where that space is in the hedges.”

  “Leave it for now. If I end up moving, we’ll leave the new owners to figure out Mrs. Henderson. I will really miss that bathroom, though.”

  “Then I’ll make another promise to create a bathroom even more grand than the one you now have. Anything for my wife.”

  She kissed him, and didn’t notice his wince after he’d said that. Would he have the time to do that? Today he felt all achy and his joints were stiff. He felt half in and half out of a shift, actually. Though he wasn’t. He was completely in were shape. Yet the shift from last night lingered. Painfully.

  By the gods, he’d endangered his son by stealing him away while in werewolf shape. He hated himself for that. Might he have to sleep elsewhere so he wouldn’t risk harm to his family? Chain himself up at night? The idea of such a thing sickened him. But even more, if he had harmed Charlie, he would have never forgiven himself.

  “Let’s go vampire hunting tonight,” Mireio said with a hopeful lilt.

  He’d been surprised when she’d told him she wanted to perform the immortality spell. But her reason for doing so, because the vampire who killed her mother was the one she’d targeted, was solid. And if his wife wanted revenge? Then he would be the man to stand beside her and support her.

  “Sounds like a plan. Do you mind if Sunday babysits?”

  “She doesn’t threaten me, Lars. In fact, I appreciate all she has done for you and Charlie. She would make a good mother.”

  “They’ll have kids someday.”

  “I know they will. Sunday will make it happen, one way or another. As for us? I love my little glop of Peanut Butter. Are we going to call him Peanut when we’re old and he’s grown and married?”

  “I certainly hope so.” Because that meant Lars would be alive to see such a day.

  Chapter 27

  It was after midnight and the sky was dark. Clouds blocked the moon. Mireio had brought along all the supplies for invoking the immortality spell. Candles, black salt, lighter, the dragon’s exudation, faery dust, a baby’s cry and various herbs and crystals. She’d practiced the incantation this afternoon. And had invoked a confidence spell to bolster her efforts tonight.

  She was ready to hunt a vampire. And to cast the spell upon herself.

  Silently they walked the alleyways they’d followed previously. It felt covert to Mireio, as if they were on a mission and both knew their roles and would only speak if necessary. She wished this night could be as easy as they made it look in the movies.

  Lars immediately picked up a scent. Following his silent gesture, she caught up to him.

  “You’re sure about this?” she asked him.

  “The longtooth killed your mother,” he said with a strange detachment. “You need this revenge.”

  “You were reluctant to kill a vampire, no matter what. What’s changed your mind?”

  “Because I want to remove the threat to you. And if that means you get the bonus of another century of life, then so be it. Let me give you this, Mireio.” He stopped to look at her. “Life.”

  She swallowed back tears. He wanted to give her something he couldn’t grab for himself.

  He touched the corner of her eye, releasing a teardrop. “No tears for me. Shed them for your mother. You honor her tonight. Yes?”

  She nodded and summoned the bravery she would surely need to make it through the next few hours.

  “You ready?” he asked. “It’s gone th
at way. Up on the rooftop.”

  * * *

  The vampire saw the two of them approach and stood up from his victim. Closely cropped dark hair shaved with zigzags gave him a ridiculous look. And the gold gauges in his earlobes hung heavily near his jaw. His face was so gaunt Lars at first thought he was starving, but the blood dripping down his chin indicated he’d fed. And well. Lars sensed the human at the vampire’s feet still had a pulse and Lars saw his legs twitch. But if he didn’t act swiftly, the victim could lose too much blood and die.

  “What’s this?” The vamp said. He made a show of sniffing the air, then sneering. Gold rings on his fingers clicked as he clasped his hands together. “A wolf? And a pretty little bite?”

  At Lars’s side Mireio bristled, but he tapped her arm. He wouldn’t hold her hand. He didn’t want to show the vampire any weakness. Though, he was feeling suddenly dizzy. The world wobbled, and his eyes felt loose in their sockets. Damn it, this disease was challenging him in ways he wished would not show up at the most inopportune moments. But he wouldn’t get any better thinking about it.

  They had to do this now.

  Lars stepped forward and delivered a punch up under the vamp’s jaw. His victim was wily, though, and he shook it off, spitting blood to the side. He skipped over the victim’s inert body. Lars lunged and slammed him against the wall, fisting him in the kidney once, then again. The bastard didn’t deserve to walk this earth. He’d taken a woman’s life and had left Mireio alone and haunted.

  Gritting his jaws, he narrowed his gaze to see through the dizziness as he delivered another punch that he felt go up under the longtooth’s ribs. He would pay for the atrocities he’d served others—

  Mireio yelled, “Wait! Don’t kill him.”

  Why was his sweet witch here? She should not be... Oh. Yes.

  Lars came down from the sudden murderous rage and glanced to his wife. He’d brought her along with him. For good reason.

  The vampire in his grip squirmed and spat blood, which landed on Lars’s cheek.

  The witch planted her feet squarely and lifted her chin. Thrusting out a hand, she spoke firmly, “Let me have his heart.”

  Lars nodded. He’d almost forgotten. “Right. Speak the spell, witch.” He gripped the vamp by his shirt. “Here is your source.”

  “Oh, shit! Not this!” The vampire kicked, landing a toe at Lars’s thigh, which didn’t hurt.

  As Mireio began to recite a preliminary spell that she’d explained would put the vampire under a temporary thrall, Lars struggled with the thing as if he were a slimy octopus. The creature was not going down without a fight, that was for sure. And Lars’s strength had waned quite a bit over the past weeks. Normally he could have controlled the bastard with ease. But he wasn’t seeing clearly right now, and if he wasn’t careful, the vampire would slip from his grip...

  No, he wouldn’t let that happen. He slammed the vamp against the brick wall.

  A spark flashed in the vampire’s eyes and he suddenly went limp in Lars’s grasp.

  “It took! We’ve got only a few minutes,” Mireio said. She stepped up and blew green dust into the vampire’s face. Then pressed her hand over his mouth and nose, forcing him to inhale. “That’ll hit his blood stream and render him incapacitated.”

  At their feet, the human victim scrambled up and clapped a hand over his neck. “What the hell?”

  “Did you work a thrall on him?” Lars shook the vampire. “Tell me!”

  “Yes,” the vamp muttered drunkenly.

  “Go!” Lars yelled at the victim. And when he stood there, stupefied and confused, Lars growled at him, which sent him running.

  Enthralled, the human would not remember how he’d gotten the bite on his neck. Nor would he transform to vampire. And with hope, he’d not remember Lars and Mireio either.

  Shoving the vampire to the rooftop, Lars stepped over him, straddling his hips with his boots. The dizziness had him wavering over the vampire, but he gripped his shirt tightly to anchor himself. He glanced aside to Mireio, who stood up from setting out candles at four points. Her nervous energy hummed in the air and he wanted to ask her one more time if this was what she really wanted. But there was no going back now. He wanted her to have this revenge. And she would.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded. Bending, she sprinkled ashes from a glass vial around her and then placed four black crystals at the compass points between each of the candles. A snap of her fingers ignited the candle wicks. “This is for my mother, Jessica Malory. Thy will be done.”

  She stood inside a protective circle, but also one that would enhance her magic and make her receptive to the spell. As she began to chant words that Lars suspected were Latin, he bent over the vamp. He knew his role. He tore open the bastard’s shirt and tapped his chest right over the heart... This was not going to be pretty. Then he dug in his fingers and pulled up skin, muscles and ribs. The vampire moaned, but not loudly. He was under Mireio’s spell and still alive, which was the necessary key to this spell. Gripping the slippery, beating heart, Lars gritted his jaws against the smell and this vile act.

  It’s not vile. It’s punishing a murderer and giving a good woman life.

  Life. How crazy was it that he couldn’t control his own life, yet could hand over so many more years to someone else?

  He gasped, wobbling, but managed to slap a hand to the brick wall nearby to steady himself.

  “Lars?”

  * * *

  Mireio’s voice startled him out of the swirling dizziness. Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts. Gripping firmly and tugging, he pulled up the organ from the vampire’s chest. Arteries and veins burst and severed. The heart continued to beat as he turned swiftly and thrust it toward his wife.

  Mireio took it with both hands and, closing her eyes, pressed it to her mouth.

  Lifting his chin and setting back his shoulders, Lars watched. Because he was as much a part of this as she was. Together, this act bonded them in a strange and mysterious way. For life. No matter how long or short that may be for him. She sucked at the blood. And as she did, Lars felt his veins tighten. His muscles cramped.

  No, no shifting now. He squeezed his fists tightly, mentally begging for a brief escape from the disease, if only to help his wife.

  Beneath him the vampire’s body suddenly lurched and then relaxed. Dead. The body began to disintegrate and ashed.

  And the heart in Mireio’s hands ashed, spilling over her bloody fingers and sifting away on the wind. The candles around her flickered and snuffed out, imbuing the blood-tainted air with sulfur.

  “Did it work?” he asked.

  “I hope so.” She dropped to her knees, bowing her head. And Lars knelt beside her, hugging her against him. She trembled. But he only wanted to hold her and make the world right for her.

  “No regrets?”

  She shook her head. “I did the right thing.”

  * * *

  Once at Lars’s place, Mireio jumped out of the truck and ran around the side of the cabin. Lars called after her but she begged him to stay away. She needed time to herself.

  What she really needed was to make it to the field of wildflowers so she could... She dropped before the flowers and expelled the contents of her stomach. The horrible act she had committed tonight would not allow her to callously accept the immortality. Had so many witches over the ages done the same without regret? How could they not feel remorse for such a foul act? No matter that the vampire that she’d reduced to ash had been a homicidal madman.

  As bees buzzed nearby, hovering over the blood she’d expelled, she spat onto the ground and gasped as tears fell and splatted the backs of her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to anyone who would listen. What had happened to “and ye harm none”? Why was such a spell not considered dark and forbidd
en? “Oh, goddess. What have I done?”

  And then, she shook her head. No. She could not be sorry for taking the life of the vampire who had killed her mother. It was a wish she had held for years. And she felt her mother’s soul could feel the revenge and would condone it. Nor could she be sorry for obtaining the one ingredient she needed to give her husband a fighting chance at life.

  What was done had been done. She must remain strong.

  Standing, she wobbled, then straightened her skirt and stepped away from the spattered wildflowers, which now hummed with hundreds of bees. In the darkness, she wandered around the side of the cabin and into the house. Her shoulder bumped the wall. She redirected but then turned and pressed her forehead to the wall. Lars slipped up behind her and wrapped his hands over her shoulders.

  “Don’t ask,” she said softly.

  “I won’t. Something happened tonight. Something good and not so good.”

  “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “You going to be okay, lover?”

  “I need to sleep.”

  “Why don’t you let me run you a nice hot tub first? You’ve some blood on you, sweetie.”

  “Yes, a bath would be nice.” And she needed to brush her teeth. Like fifty times. “Thank you, Lars.”

  “Sit down.” He helped her to sit on the couch. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  He let the screen door bang shut as he raced out and around to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, Mireio was submerged in the hot water, which smelled like Lars’s mint shampoo. Very few bubbles, but the man had tried, bless him.

  “I’ll sit here quietly,” he said, settling onto the closed toilet seat.

  “No, please. Give me some time alone, will you?”

  He nodded, and only when Mireio heard the screen door on the cabin creak once again did she allow herself to cry.

  Chapter 28

  The next morning Lars drove his family to Mireio’s place. She didn’t have a change of clothing at the cabin—her shirt had vampire blood on it—and she was kind of cranky, so he decided to do what he could to make her happy. She’d gone upstairs to change an hour ago, so he snuck up to check on her and found her in bed. Sleeping? No, he didn’t hear the soft, rhythmic snores. Probably sulking.