by Mac Flynn
I threw caution to the wind, shrugged off the deadly quilt, and rushed the door. I flung it open and stared out into the dark nothingness of the chilly, frosted night. It stared back as unhelpfully as the Bowie knife. I glanced at the door and saw the rest of the Bowie knife along with a note pinned to the wood by its blade. It would be rude to leave a guest out in the cold, so after a brief struggle I unpinned the Bowie knife and carried both inside. The door was securely locked and I took a seat on the couch with my pair of discoveries in my lap.
The Bowie knife was five inches long and two inches at the widest part. The handle was an ordinary brown. Nothing told me who the owner was of this lost little knife, so I turned my attention to the note. There were some words scrolled on the surface by someone who flunked out of the fifth grade. It read as thus:
Keap out of the damn if ya no any beter. If ya don't than youll regret it.
I regretted reading that note, but mostly because the terrible English made me weep for my native language. I jumped when there came another knock on the door.
"Chris?" Adam's voice called through the door.
I set aside the knife and paper and hurried to the door. I swung open the entrance and on the porch stood Adam. Tucked in one arm was a pot, and on his face was a frown. "What happened to the door?" he asked me.
I walked back to the couch and held up my discoveries. "These happened. Somebody left their calling cards just a few minutes ago."
Adam set the soup pot on the coffee table and took the note. He poured over the short, almost-illegible contents of the note. His frown deepened and returned the note to me. "This is what I feared would happen."
I held up the blade and smiled at him. "At least I got a free knife," I quipped. He didn't smile back and I plopped the Bowie knife into my lap. "All right, jokes aside, we both kind of know who did all this stuff, don't we?"
Adam nodded. "The Owens brothers."
I shrugged. "I was going to say Woody Woodpecker, but he can probably write better notes than that mess in your hands."
Adam lifted his nose to the air and cringed. "I smell skunk."
"The tell-tale signs of the Owens boys," I agreed.
"I will remain here for the night in case they should return," Adam proposed.
"All right, but no howling at the moon," I commanded.
He looked to me with a raised eyebrow. "Does none of this situation frighten or worry you?"
I shrugged. "Kind of, but having a werewolf around kind of equals the playing field. Doesn't it?"
"Perhaps," he admitted.
I blinked at him. "What does 'perhaps' mean?"
"It means I'm not sure what danger the brothers hold for either of us, and we had best be on our guards until we learn more about them and what they may be planning," he replied.
I scoffed. "What kind of danger could a couple of hillbillies hold for a werewolf?"
Adam's soft eyes looked down on me. "They could hurt you."
I blushed beneath his steady, sincere gaze. "Well, I'll be careful," I promised.
Adam slipped onto the cushion beside me and slipped his arm over the back of the couch behind me. He leaned toward me and his warm breath wafted over my face. "I can't let anything happen to you. If someone hurt you I. . .I don't believe I could control myself."
I tried to keep a straight face as a very naughty thought came to mind. "So you'd tear someone apart just for me?" I teased.
He inched closer and my instinct to flee was overridden by the nearness of his male scent. "I would kill to protect you," he confirmed.
"I don't know about doing-"
Adam captured my lips in a searing, demanding kiss. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me against his warm, muscular chest. He enveloped me in his warmth and passion, and my lithe body responded by bending to his will. His lips meshed against mine and his hands roamed along the small of my back. I pressed my hands against him and groaned.
I whimpered when Adam pulled away. His breath came out in sharp, struggling gasps and his eyes were the color of an autumn wheat field. He ground his teeth together and turned away from me. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Sorry for what? Giving me the best kiss I've ever had?" I asked him.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I. . .I believed I could control myself around you, but it seems my instincts to have and protect you are too strong. If we continue down the path we're traveling you may. . .I may bite you," he explained.
I clasped his chin in my hand and turned him so he faced me. He opened his beautiful autumn eyes and I smiled at him. "If we're going to go all the way with this then we're just going to have to accept that you might bite or scratch me. I don't want us to live our lives together stepping around each other to avoid that."
"But-" I pressed a finger against his lips.
"No buts except your cute one. If it happens then neither of us will regret it. Promise?"
"Hm mhmhss," he replied.
I laughed and took my finger off his lips. "Care to repeat that?"
He smiled. "I said 'I promise.'"
"Good, now about that kiss." I leaned forward, but Adam stood and I fell face-forward into his empty couch cushion. I sputtered into the fabric of the cover and sat up to glare at him. "What's the big idea? We had a promise. Do we need to pinky-swear over it?"
Adam chuckled. "I will keep my promise, but I also swore to protect you and I can't do that without focusing on our surroundings, and not you."
I slumped on the cushion and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'd rather have you observing me," I grumbled.
"Another time when mortal danger doesn't lurk in the shadows. For this night I will wait in the shadows in case the brothers should reappear," Adam told me.
I held the knife straight up and let the blade glisten in the overhead light. "I don't think my admirers are going to come back tonight. Maybe tomorrow or if we mess with that dam again, but probably not tonight."
"My natural instinct to protect you doesn't want to take that chance," Adam argued. He leaned down and pecked a light kiss on my forehead.
I stuck my lip at him and crossed my arms. "You're mean teasing me like that."
"It's a promise for future fun, but goodnight," he returned. He walked over to the door and opened the entrance.
A small, frosty breeze let itself in and I shuddered. "You're seriously going to spend all night out there?" I asked him.
Adam glanced over his shoulder and I saw his face was furry, but through the fuzz I could see a smile. "I will be fine. Have a good night's rest."
He shut the door behind him and I slid down the couch with my back against its back. "Dang him and his heroics ruining my fun," I grumbled.
Chapter 6
I had a fitful sleep knowing Adam was out there all night protecting me from lunatic hillbillies with a Bowie knife to grind against me. When my clock struck six I gave up on a relaxing sleep and turned on the lights to alert Adam to my waking. He strode in a minute after I switched on the living room light. His face was still covered in fur, and a thick white frost blanketed the tips of the hairs. He retracted the fur and the moisture stuck to his face, giving him a beautiful glow that he wiped off with my kitchen towel.
"Any scent of skunk?" I asked him.
He seated himself at my kitchen table and ran a hand through his fuzz. "No, nor any sign of them."
I plopped myself down in the opposite chair and raised an eyebrow. "You almost sound disappointed."
"It would have been easier to confront them on your property than to search for them out on theirs," he pointed out.
"You think that's what we need to do?" I wondered.
He gave a nod. "That, or tempt them by destroying the dam again. Unfortunately, that would still give them the advantage of knowing when their attack would take place."
"So what do you suggest we do? Break the dam again whenever they get it back up and hope we catch them sneaking down here and leaving me neighborly gifts?"
Adam shrugged. "No, I would rather like to find out where their home is and pay them a visit."
I grinned. "Good. Then we can give them back their present. It's a little too big to use as a steak knife. I'm guessing we go talk to their uncle first, right?"
"Exactly, but after a nice, warm mug of cocoa. The frost was heavier than I expected and I've grown rather soft living in the cabin," Adam admitted.
I stood and fetched him his drink. "Don't go getting pudgy on me," I teased.
A sly grin slipped onto his face. "I wouldn't mind if you were to become a plump little wife."
I returned to the table with a steaming mug. The cup was set on the table, and I set myself in his lap. He gave a little 'oomph' of surprise. "You sure you want me to gain a few more pounds?" One of his hands roamed upward toward my breast. I squealed and tried to free myself, but he grabbed my hips and held me down. "I'm ticklish!" I yelped.
"You shouldn't have told the enemy your weakness," he cooed. He slipped both his hands beneath my shirt and wiggled his fingers over my twitchy skin. I cackled and swatted his hands away. My efforts to escape meant I slipped off his jeans and onto the floor.
I scrambled away on all fours to the safety of the opposite side of the table and glared at him over the top. "That was cruel and unusual punishment. I should hit you up on the Geneva Convention," I threatened him.
"The Geneva Convention applies to humans, not werewolves," he countered.
I climbed into my chair and glared at him. "Uh-huh, and what else doesn't apply to werewolves?"
"Shaving, gym memberships, and the need to eat our vegetables," he ticked off.
"There's a lot of upsides to this cursed life," I quipped.
"It has its perks, but if you're quite done with your follishness then I suggest we eat breakfast and be started on our way to the hardware store," he advised.
My mouth dropped open. "My foolishness? What about the tickle torture?"
He stood and waved off my argument. "Merely a defensive measure, but what would you like for breakfast?"
I slumped over the table and rolled my eyes. "I'll forgive the tickle torture just because you're making breakfast. Oh, and toast and scrambled eggs."
The meal was eaten, and at seven o'clock we drove down the road. The way was slow because I foolishly insisted on driving my vehicle. A thin sheet of frost lay on the road, and I had a deathly fear of ice on roads.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather let me drive?" Adam offered.
"I got this," I growled. My eyes flickered out the window and I swear I saw a squirrel along the road pass us. "I'm just a little cautious, okay? I'd like to live to see my next paycheck." I inched us past a deep, frozen puddle and the car responded with all the dexterity of a turtle. "Maybe I need a new car," I muttered.
"I don't mind driving on such roads," Adam persisted.
"We'll get there, just give me time," I argued. Time was what I needed because it took twice as long as usual to reach the bottom of the hill. The highway was bare and I zoomed us along the smooth asphalt. We reached the hardware store at ten minutes till eight and found it already open. "Does he live here or something?" I mused.
"In the rear," Adam told me.
I snorted and followed him inside. Clemens, the owner and manager of the store, was in one of the aisles stocking the shelves. He noticed our coming and stood. "A bit early for you folks to be down here, isn't it? Those roads couldn't have been much fun with all that frost."
"I told you I was just being cautious," I whispered to Adam.
He ignored me and smiled at Clemens. "It was a little frosty, but we wanted to ask you about your nephews, the Owens brothers."
The corners of Clemens lips turned down. "Whatever they've done now I don't want any part of it, and I'm not bailing them out of jail."
Adam shook his head. "It's nothing like that. We wanted to know where they lived because Chris and I were planning on taking a long hike in the woods and didn't want to stumble on them."
Clemens snorted. "You can't stumble on them unless your sense of smell's shot to hell, which is what you might be if you find out where they're staying right now. I don't know myself, but Agnes or Abner might know. They hear all the gossip around these parts and tell everybody who'll listen, and a bunch of folks who won't."
Adam smiled and bowed his head. "Thanks, we'll go ask them."
We turned away, but Clemens' voice called us back. "And remember what I told you about shooting. Those boys shoot first and ask questions later if they remember what they were thinking to ask."
"We'll remember," Adam promised.
Adam led me outside and we walked to our respective doors. I didn't unlock the car, but instead stared at him across the roof. "You sure this is such a good idea sneaking up on a couple of trigger-happy weeders?" I asked him.
"Nothing in this trouble is a good idea, but I would still rather have the advantage of surprising them than the reversal," he replied.
I sighed and shrugged. "All right, but you'd better remember that I'm not as bullet-proof as a werewolf." I ducked down, paused, and peeked over the roof again. "How bullet-proof are you exactly?"
"I can heal very quickly, but I would rather not experience the pain," Adam told me.
I unlocked the car and we slipped into our seats. "Amen to that, but I suppose we shouldn't worry too much until we actually find them."
"A very true observation," he agreed as we sped on our way.
The light from the sun was weak when we arrived at the small general store a few miles short of the end of the road. Agnes stood on the porch sweeping crystals and dust from the wood boards. She leaned on her broom and gave us a cheerful smile. "Well, well, aren't you two up early. What can I do for you?"
We met her on the porch. "We were curious to know if you knew an address where the Owens brothers resided," Adam explained.
Agnes snorted. "Nope, but why were you wanting to know that? They're not exactly your type of company to be visiting."
"We thought perhaps they visited Chris last night, and we were wanting to return the favor," Adam told her.
Agnes shrugged and shook her head. "Sorry I can't help you more, but all I know is they were seen going off one of the side roads on the highway toward Lost Valley with some feller nobody knows. I'd say search that place for 'em but it's a mess in there, what with all those old logging and hunting roads. You'd have better luck finding a needle in a haystack in that thick mess of trees."
"Lost Valley is the one over our hill, isn't it?" Adam asked her.
Agnes nodded. "Yep, but it's a hell of a hike down into that mess because there's no trails."
"And no one recognized the gentleman they were with?" he wondered.
"Not a soul and I haven't seen him myself, but I guess he's got some real shifty eyes on him. Probably getting those boys into trouble they never even thought of, if they ever thought anything in their lives," she quipped.
"We'll be sure to watch our steps if we venture over there," Adam promised.
"Oh, and I forgot to tell you two something. Somebody was asking around about the folks who live up in the mountains. A scruffy-looking man about fifty. He said he was looking for a friend of his," Agnes added.
I noticed Adam stiffened and he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "Did you learn who the friend was?" Adam inquired.
Agnes shook his head. "No. I started ringing off names and he just nodded at all of them until I couldn't remember anymore. Was a very queer sort of guy, too. Sort of mumbled so I couldn't understand him, but Dad said he caught the guy in the back talking to himself and he spoke just fine."
Adam pursed his lips. "I see. Do you know which way he went?"
She nodded down the road toward Wolf Mountain. "That way."
"And how long ago was this?"
Agnes scrunched up her face. "Oh, a couple of hours after you left yesterday. He came sauntering up behind the store dressed in rags and mumbling to himself, and after his questions he wandered of
f. Kind of acted like he didn't have a home in the world to care about leaving or going to."
Adam bowed his head. "Thanks for the information. We'll be sure to keep our eyes out for him."
"Don't take what I'm saying the wrong way, Adam. This fellow didn't seem the type to be one to cause trouble. You know, kind of addle-brained, but harmless."
Adam smiled. "We'll be sure to get him safely to the highway if we see him. See you later, Agnes."
"Bye, Adam, and you two don't have too much fun until I see some rings on those fingers," she teased.
Chapter 7
We puttered and bumped our way up the road. By now the worst of the frost was gone, but the air still held a chill in it. My eyes flickered to Adam who sat quietly beside me. "So what do we do now?"
"We will do nothing. I will follow the water line from the dam to the brothers and see what I might find out," Adam told me.
I frowned and narrowed my eyes. "So you're ditching me right when I've got a big column scoop for a story in my front yard?" I questioned him.
"This is more than a matter of publishing content. Clemens' warning shouldn't be disregarded as nothing. These men are dangerous, and therefore the trip into Lost Valley is too dangerous for you," he scolded me.
A sly smile slipped onto my face. "There's just one thing you forgot."
Adam turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "What might that be?"
"You forgot about your werewolf self."
He scoffed. "I would be hard-pressed to forget about that part of me."
"Well, what would the werewolf part of you say if I told it that you were leaving me all by my lonesome with a couple of crazy, gun-toting hillbillies slinking around my cabin?" I asked him.
Adam opened his mouth, froze, and then shut his teeth with a definitive clack. He stared straight ahead and a deep frown slipped onto his lips. "That is rather unfair of you to remind me."
"All's fair in love and werewolves, so do I get to come along or might I turn into a damsel in distress while you're away?" I teased.
Adam sighed and gave a nod. "Very well, but I must warn you the trail may not be easy to travel. Agnes' warning about Lost Valley was as true as Clemens' warning about the brothers. The valley is uninhabited but for the forest beasts and there will be no food but what we bring in and the few berries we might find," he warned me.