by T. A. Kunz
“I don’t see anything right now, but something did hit the car earlier. We all felt it,” Tara answers, still gazing out the window.
“We probably just crossed into something’s territory and it lashed out, but now it’s gone,” Heath says before opening his door again. “Can you pass me the duffle?”
Tara grabs the bag and heaves it through the space between the front seats. Heath grabs hold of the handles before pulling it the rest of the way to lay in the driver’s seat. He hands me a fully loaded crossbow before drawing out a medieval-looking axe for himself.
“Don’t worry, guys. We’re safe because I still have my holy water,” Tara mocks while waving the glass vial about.
“You’d be surprised how powerful that little item you’ve got there is. Probably the most effective thing in this whole bag against the right creatures,” Heath states before exiting the car, leaving the duffle bag behind on the seat.
“If you say so,” Tara comments, staring at the small bottle.
“You can stay in the car if you really don’t want to come along,” I say, making direct eye contact with her.
“Uh-uh. You’re not leaving me out here. No way,” she fires back with a nervous titter.
We hear Heath’s voice call out to us, interrupting what I’m about to say to Tara. He’s standing near the front of the car with the ball of light he conjured floating around him like a firefly. “You guys coming?” he repeats.
I look back at Tara and she nods her head slightly while clutching the bottle of holy water. We open our doors and exit the car together. My boots squish and slide a bit in the mud when I step down. Leaving the safety of the car, I wait for Tara to gain her composure before heading over to where Heath is waiting for us.
“Onward to Jack’s,” he says, and moves ahead. His little ball of light follows close to him, but still provides enough light for all of us to see the area around us.
The cool night breeze continually brushes past my face and jostles my jacket as we continue to walk up the hill toward Jack’s compound. The sounds I remember from the last trip through these woods are oddly absent, and all I can hear is the wind. My eyes keep darting toward the forest tree line, thinking I see movement. I can’t seem to shake the feeling we’re being stalked. There was nothing there when we started out, but now it feels like we’re surrounded.
“This place gives me a serious case of the wiggins,” Tara says in front of me.
That’s the other thing that’s changed since the last time I trekked through these woods. I lack the wonderful distraction of staring at Heath’s magnificent asset.
“Not much farther now,” Heath calls out over his shoulder to us. “See, I told you that—”
Heath’s interrupted by a loud howl in the distance that shakes the trees and the ground below our feet. The roaring noise echoes a few times shortly after, coming from all different directions. Out of the corner of my eye, I keep seeing the fleeting images of something moving amongst the forest all around us, just outside the ball of light’s reach.
“Werewolves,” I whisper under my breath when I see multiple sets of glowing, golden brown eyes peering out at us from the darkness between the tree trunks.
Growling fills the area and a high-pitched squeak emits from Tara as she huddles up next to me. I pin my back up to her shoulder and Heath does the same on her other side, all of us keeping watch on different sections of the woods. Movement continues to rustle the foliage around us, but none of the wolves decide to step out into the light. They’re waiting for the perfect moment.
“For some reason, I wasn’t expecting to see werewolves,” Heath mentions.
I crank back the mechanism that fires the bolts from the crossbow and point it out toward the trees I’m facing. “Funny, they were exactly what I was expecting to be out here,” I respond. “Hence, the silver bolts I grabbed from your dad’s vault.”
“What does holy water do against werewolves?” Tara’s worried voice chimes up between us.
“Uh, well, holy water doesn’t exactly work on werewolves,” Heath answers, and I can see him wrench his hands on the handle of the axe he’s holding when I look over my shoulder. A nervous whimper bubbles up from Tara.
Another loud howl sounds from in front of me just before I see a razor-sharp clawed paw step out from the darkness. It’s followed by another and then the wet black snout and full-on hairy face of a werewolf. Saliva drips from its bared teeth onto the muddy ground below it as it stares me down. It’s probably one of the largest werewolves I’ve ever seen, and the real problem is that this particular one is almost all wolf and has no trace of human in its transformed state. When a werewolf transforms and still semi-resembles a human, that means it still has its humanity, but when it transitions and takes the full body of a wolf, like this one in front of me, that means it’s acting on its primal instincts to hunt and kill.
“Houston, we’ve got a problem,” I say to Heath over my shoulder.
“I see them … all of them,” he replies. “These guys must’ve been what hit the car earlier.”
The moment those words leave his mouth I feel extreme warmth caress my right shoulder. It feels like when Heath touches me, but Tara’s between us, so how can that be? I turn to look at her and notice her entire body is shimmering with a faint white glow.
She studies her hands that are now burning bright white. Her shocked eyes turn to look at mine. “What’s happening to me?” she asks.
I remember this reaction very well. It used to happen whenever Tara was under extreme stress and she couldn’t contain it. How in the hell is it happening now, since she should’ve lost all her powers when she died?
“I’m starting to freak out here, Liv. What the hell’s going on?” she asks again, and I fight with myself to blurt out the truth.
“Whoa, Tara, how are you doing that?” Heath inquires. He shoots me a concerned look, and then returns his gaze to the several very large werewolves in front of him that are closing in.
“I don’t know,” she stammers.
More wolves begin to emerge from the forest, their highly defined limbs flexing underneath a layer of fur while they encircle us like a Hunter does its prey. Their deep, throaty growls create puffs of visible breath from their mouths in the cool air as they sway their snouts low to the ground, sizing us up.
“I feel like I’m overheating,” Tara cries out.
I notice the wolves directly in front of her shy back a bit when she begins to shine even brighter. This is about the time she used to blow.
The werewolves stop in their tracks and face us full-on, looking like they’re ready to pounce. The three in front of me dig their claws into the ground before leaning down until their chests dip into the mud. The wolves leap into the air, and I ready the crossbow to down the one right in front of me.
A wave of white energy pulses past me, knocking back all the wolves and sends them crashing to the ground before I have a chance to fire a single shot. My eyes dart around the entire area and see the beasts retreating with their tails tucked between their legs as whimpers fill the air.
I immediately find Tara once I’m sure all of them have gone. I notice she’s looking at me, dazed and confused.
“Did I do that?” she asks absently. I nod with an uncertain look. “I saved us?” I nod again and notice her eyes beginning to glaze over. “Cool.”
I catch her as she faints into my arms. The warm feeling I felt when I was touching her earlier has faded. Her powers seem to have gone dormant again.
“Heath, a little help here,” I call out to him when Tara’s body begins to slump in my arms. I don’t want to lay her on the ground. I know she’ll be pissed if her outfit gets ruined by the mud.
He rushes over and takes Tara from my arms, proceeding to prop her up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Well, that was interesting,” he comments.
“Yeah, you could say that,” I reply, regaining my bearings. “How was she able to do that? I thought her pow
ers were gone.”
Heath shrugs with his one free shoulder. “They should be. This doesn’t make any sense. Anything that dies and is brought back to life using magic is just a shell of its former self. There should be no residual power left over.”
“You going to be okay carrying her the rest of the way?” I ask, motioning to Tara’s unconscious body slumped over his shoulder.
“Yeah. She weighs about a buck twenty soaking wet. I think I can manage,” he chuckles softly.
“All right, let’s get to Jack’s. This forest is seriously starting to piss me off more than I already am.” I try to keep my tone light, but I’m actually being completely honest.
The rest of the hike up to the clearing is thankfully eventless. I think Tara’s little outburst probably scared off everything in these woods within at least a five-mile radius. She still hasn’t woken up, and I’m a little concerned about how things will be when she finally does. Will she remember what happened? Will she get pissed because I’ve lied to her these past few months? How is she going to take all this?
Heath’s definitely showcasing his strength right now. He’s trudged up this monster of a hill with Tara over his shoulder, and he’s been in front of me the entire time. He hasn’t even complained once or asked me to take Tara for a few seconds. It seems so effortless to him, and to be honest, it’s turning me on, though I know this is not the right time or place to be having Heath thoughts and feelings.
“Hey, can you dig out my wallet real quick and get the needles?” Heath asks when we reach the small collection of magical stones that rest at the edge of the Jack’s clearing.
“Sure,” I respond coolly, but inside I realize I have to reach into Heath’s back pocket to retrieve his wallet. His jeans are not skinny, but they aren’t a loose fit either. This should prove to be interesting.
The pocket is snug and I feel the bulge of his wallet when my fingers graze the fabric of his jeans in my search to find the opening. I put my hand through the slit and it touches the interior fabric that’s resting against Heath’s bare skin and my hand begins to heat up.
“We’ll have plenty of time for that kind of stuff later, Liv,” he chuckles, “but right now I need my wallet.”
“Ha, ha, ha, very funny,” I reply dryly, finally able to pull the wallet from the tight pocket. “Here.” I hand him the black leather bifold and he draws out a needle from the plastic baggy inside.
After he pricks his finger and drips the blood over the stone, he hands a fresh needle to me and I do the same. Oddly, Jack’s compound doesn’t appear.
“Did we do something wrong?” I ask, feeling puzzled as I gaze out onto the empty field.
“Duh, we must need Tara’s blood too,” he mentions as he draws out another needle.
“Wait, why? She’s a zombie … she doesn’t bleed,” I reply with a confused expression while grabbing the needle he’s holding out for me to take.
“I don’t know what to tell ya. Maybe she might surprise us,” he says and turns around so Tara’s facing my direction.
I take hold of her index finger and puncture it lightly, just enough for a small pool of blood to form at the tip. “That’s impossible,” I state in disbelief.
“What?”
“She’s bleeding. How in the hell is she bleeding if she’s dead?” Asking the question out loud only adds to my confusion.
“Maybe it has something to do with her little outburst back there,” he replies.
Heath steps back and to the side so I can drape Tara’s arm over the stone and the blood can land on the one in the center. “None of this makes sense,” I mutter.
“I’m with you on that one.”
We return our attention to the clearing and see the fortress begin to appear. This time it doesn’t look anything like a military compound. It’s an ordinary log cabin that you’d see up in the mountains somewhere with a lightly snow-dusted ground surrounding it.
“Did we conjure the wrong place? Is that even possible?” I ask, and Heath shifts his confused gaze toward mine. “There aren’t multiple places like this out here, are there?”
“I have no clue.”
The front door to the cabin swings open and a warm light spills out onto the porch from inside. The whole scene looks like it was ripped from a Thomas Kinkade painting. I half expect a woman dressed in an apron to bring out a plate of cookies and a cup of hot cocoa.
“Should we go up there?”
“It’s either that or we go back to the car,” Heath replies.
I look back at the ominous and foreboding forest that lies behind us and shiver. “I vote for the cabin,” I say, and then take my first step out of the mud onto the snow-covered ground.
The ice crunches beneath my boots with every step I take on my way up to the front porch. I keep my guard up as Heath follows closely behind me. I’m on high alert since this isn’t at all what happened last time.
From where I’m standing, the house appears empty with no activity going on inside. My mind immediately wonders who opened the door if no one’s home. A shadowed figure appears in the doorway and startles me dead in my tracks. I feel Heath bump into me after I stop.
“Are you two coming in or not?” A familiar female voice rings out from the cabin. It’s Jack.
The moment we hear her voice, we pick up the pace until we’re standing in front of her. She motions for us to proceed inside before coming up behind us and closing the door.
The interior of the cabin is exactly how you’d expect one to look. I had this thought that maybe it was a façade and when you stepped inside it would look like Jack’s old compound. A fire is roaring inside the large brick fireplace in the living room. It is surrounded by rustic wooden furniture and lush area rugs. The only thing missing is the stereotypical motif of animal heads hung on the walls.
“You can put the girl on the sofa over there,” Jack says, motioning to the plaid-patterned couch resting in front of the fireplace. Heath nods and moves to lay Tara down and out of his arms.
“What is this place?” I ask, surveying the very different space from the one we were in last time.
“It gets tiring being stuck in the same building day in and day out, so I decided I wanted a change. Some people change their hair, clothes, car, but I change up my living space. When you’re forced to be in one place for as long as I am, you begin to crave new surroundings,” she explains.
“You can’t leave?”
“Correct,” she replies. “I’m a genie and this is my bottle.”
“You’re probably wondering why we’re here again so soon, huh?” I ask, moving into the living room area after Jack does.
“Actually, I was surprised it took you so long to return. I have to apologize, but I know why you’re here, Olivia. When I used that spell on you earlier, I enabled myself to see what you see when you left here.”
“Everything?” I ask and my eyes immediately pan over to Heath.
“Yes, everything,” she answers, her lips curling into a sneaky grin.
“You do realize how creepy and not cool that was, right?” I probe in a stern manner. “Those were private moments. Not to mention you had no right to do that.”
“I’m truly sorry. Like I said, I thought you’d come back a lot sooner than you did. But I knew you’d be back eventually, and I wanted to see everything you were doing so I could have the answers you’d seek when you did return. This was all to help you, I promise. Here, I’ll remove the enchantment if it will make you happy.”
“Of course it will,” I reply.
Jack claps her hands together and begins rubbing them back and forth while saying a quick incantation in another language. She separates her hands and cups them in front of her mouth, palms up. Jack inhales deeply and I feel this funny sensation in my ear. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a trail of red smoke floating past the side of my face, and it travels toward Jack’s opens hands. The snake-like smoke gathers in her palms, coiling up like a rope. She clasps her hands to
gether, and when she pulls them apart again, the smoke has disappeared.
“There, all gone,” she says, clapping her hands together.
“Thanks,” I say. “I’m guessing since you’ve been in my head this whole time that you already know about my brother, Angelica, Tobias, and everything else?” She nods. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
“I don’t know who’s behind this, but I do have some information that could prove helpful to you.”
“Okay, what is it?”
Jack makes a tsk-tsk noise while waving her finger at me. “You already got your freebie. I run a business here, and if I keep handing out favors, then it’ll only be a matter of time before everyone comes knocking at my door.”
“I won’t tell anyone, I swear,” I plead, wanting to get back on the case with the info Jack knows.
“I’ve heard that before, Olivia, and I’ve learned my lesson,” she replies, settling down into a brown leather recliner, which is the only other non-wooden piece of furniture in this room. She motions for Heath and me to take a seat on the padded wooden bench that sits diagonally from her.
“Fine, what do you want?” I ask, but refuse to take a seat.
A soft laugh bubbles up in her throat as half her mouth turns up in a smirk. “From what I observed, you have an ‘in’ with Angelica’s mother, Constance, correct?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I reply, but am not liking where this is going.
“She has something in her possession that once belonged to me. A simple little ring that holds fond memories. I’d like it back, but since I’m confined to this place, I can’t go and request it myself,” she explains while interlocking her fingers in front of her face with her elbows perched onto the arms of the chair she’s in.
“How do I know I can trust you after what you did to me earlier? And something tells me that this ring is more than what you’re letting on.”