by Kat Lind
Will panted and heaved. His body ached from exhaustion, and he drooled profusely. Soon, a small puddle of saliva formed beneath him. He glanced at the liquid and screamed.
Only it wasn’t a human scream.
He was howling.
He was a wolf.
A werewolf.
And the creatures?
His eyes were now awoken to his new form, and he could see again. The goblin, the centaur, and the bird had been his family.
Will rammed his wolf head repeatedly into the stone wall, hoping to kill himself. Instead, the stone crumbled before him. He broke free, running into the night, the darkness, trying to rid himself of his grief, his guilt, his madness.
<<<>>>
Ruby waited until she heard the wolf’s cry of agony before she floated over to her reflective watering bowl. She mumbled a short incantation, “Water let me see has William broken free.”
The water rippled and then smoothed completely, reflecting a three-dimensional image of William. The werewolf escaped through the broken cell and soon ran past trees. He showed no signs of weariness. Although some stains of blood tangled within his fur, Ruby could see no hint of injury on him.
She flicked the magical image away and sat on the edge of her bed.
Over a century ago, the witches had learned the secret ancient magic that invoked the curse of the werewolf. This punishment was only used on murderers and others whom the witches’ council deemed a threat. The criminals were changed to their new form in front of their family. The rage from the conversion always had the same end result. The werewolf would kill their loved ones. Their grief and mind-numbing despair caused the werewolf to kill himself. Thus the number of crimes had dramatically decreased over the years. No one was given a second chance. There were no repeat offenders.
Some might think this punishment unduly harsh. Time had proven that murderers and other violent criminals produced more murderers and criminals. Wiping out those cruel bloodlines was crucial.
Others might think it foolish to allow the werewolf time to run free before they killed themselves. Perhaps it was. Perhaps they were blinded by their power. Thus far, no werewolf retained the cognition to survive past his or her guilt. They may not feel remorse or shame for their original crimes. Killing their families always triggered enough self-loathing that the escaped werewolves had no thoughts save for ending their miserable existence. The werewolves were incapable of killing innocents or anyone save for themselves.
Besides, at least one witch always kept an eye on any werewolf to ensure they killed themselves. If need be, they could step in at any time. Thus far, the sentence of werewolf kept the witches’ hands blood-free. If proven necessary, they would do what must be done.
Ruby called forth the image again. William the werewolf was still running. But you can’t run from your past. Or your guilt. You won’t run for long, William Chambers. They never do.
<<<>>>
Will ran hard. His grief threatened to overwhelm him so he instead concentrated on moving his legs, his furry stems, his paws. He had stumbled from the cell, his new body alien to him. He quickly discovered that his instincts and primordial senses were heightened in this form. He could control his new body as if he had been born into it.
He raced through a forest, the tree branches low to the ground and ripped at his fur. He welcomed the pain. He deserved to feel it. But more so, he longed for death.
His thoughts turned to his brother. It was self-defense. But the murder of his family, he had no excuse.
Past the forest, there was a tall cliff, Winding Falls. Will knew what he must do. He would jump into the fall and land on the jagged rocks below. He did not deserve to live while he still had his family’s blood coating his fur.
Will halted before his leap. He backed up a few steps. A running start. That was what he needed.
He walked backward and readied himself. Then he launched himself forward, running hard. At the last moment, he backed off, some pebbles dislodging and falling down the cliffside.
Why was Erik roaming around his house?
Will tried to shove his questions aside and ran toward the cliff again and again. Each time, his questions prevented him from ending his life.
A run by his mansion can’t hurt. I’ll just go and check things out. See if I can’t discover an answer or two. Then I’ll return.
He kicked a large stone into the empty air. It tumbled and smashed against the pointy rocks below. I will avenge your murder, my loved ones, by killing myself. But first, there is something I must do.
Will turned and raced toward his brother’s mansion.
<<<>>>
Ruby stared at the watery form of the werewolf, a nasty scowl on her face. “Where is he off to?” she snapped and splashed her hand into the water, banishing the image.
Her chamber door opened and in walked Opal Dragonlace, a member of the witches’ council.
Ruby jumped to her feet. “Opal,” she said, her voice bitter and cool.
Opal stared at her, a hint of contempt in her curled lips. “You assured us that he would be suitable for the curse.”
“And he is. The only reason why he killed in the first place was because he was ruled by his emotions. And he deserved to have everything taken from him for murder. He will kill himself.”
Opal tapped her foot in annoyance. “If he does not by midnight tonight, you will have to see to it yourself. Maybe the curse is not a suitable punishment anymore.” She leaned forward. Her long silver robe fell back and revealed her bone-white finger that she jabbed toward Ruby. “Your position as a judge will come into question should this end badly.” Opal whirled around and floated from the room, her long purple hair tumbling loose from her up-do.
Ruby grabbed the closest object and threw it against a wall. The mirror shattered into tiny shards. She walked over and stared at her fractured face. I will not allow William Chambers to destroy my life. Her fingers curled into fists. She jumped into the air, turned into a raven, and flew out the window.
<<<>>>
Will hurried through the forest. The sun began to rise, and he did not wish to be discovered. A sudden break in the tree branches above his head allowed a beam of light to filter through. The sun’s ray ignited him on fire. He jumped back into the shadow, and the burning sensation vanished. He gingerly place a paw into the light, and the smoldering returned. Will’s body shook. His paw, in the sunlight, had changed back into his human hand. He hurried back to the light and, after a moment of pain, he stretched and stood on two legs. He exited the forest and headed up the hill that led to his brother’s mansion.
Old, with a rustic yet nostalgic feeling to it, Erik’s house had always been a source of jealousy for Will. With four stories and over twenty rooms, the mansion required many workers to tend to the land and the house. Erik’s death…. I caused them all to be fired. Senora Fuego and the rest. He hung his head in shame.
The stone driveway curved around the house, and Will headed toward the back door. He moved the potted plant and secured the key beneath it. He shoved the key into the lock and had his hand on the knob to turn it when it opened from the inside.
Senora Fuego gasped and dropped the basket she was holding. The blanket fell to the ground and revealed silver and other valuable items tucked inside. “What you doing here?” she hissed, her accent thick.
Will leaned against a Roman-inspired pillar. “I could ask you the same question.” He stared pointedly at the stolen goods and back to the old woman’s face.
She wrinkled her nose. “I still work here,” she snapped. “Erik—”
“Is dead.” He crossed his arms and tapped his foot.
Senora Fuego narrowed her eyes. “I know. You kill him. You bad, bad—”
“Senora, let me ask you a question. Did you enjoy working for my brother?”
Her silence was telling, and her discomfort evident in her pursed lips and nasty scowl. “He yell lot. But he pay good. When he pay.”
“S
enora, can you tell me what my brother was up to, the night I killed him?” The thought It was self-defense begged to be uttered, but he suppressed it. “He was sneaking around.”
Senora shuddered. “I go now. I have nothing to say.” Senora bent down, her one hand on her back, and tucked the blanket on top of her basket.
Will draped a hand on the basket. “You know something. Or suspect. Tell me,” he pleaded.
Senora stared at him for a long moment and nodded. “Sí. He would come and go as he please on trips and, one time, he come back with a large gem. He would stare at it for hours. Not even stop to eat though I prepare good food.”
“Do you know where the gem is now?”
Senora shook her head. “No, no.” Her eyes darted around wildly, and she shivered. Fear poured out of her and infected Will. “I ask him one night if he want me to clean it. He got angry, very angry. I never saw the gem again.”
“Anything else? Anything at all?” he pressed as she hurried down the path.
“There was one woman,” she said. She halted and faced him. “That come to see him many times. Usually many women, one and done, never seen again. But one come often.”
“Do you know her name? What did she look like?”
Senora shrugged. “No sé. But she always come at night so no one saw her face.” She shuddered and hurried away.
“Wait, Senora, one more question.”
But the Spanish woman did not heed him.
Will stepped into his brother’s house. The grandeur of it disgusted Will. So much money poured into the ornate furniture, the silk and velvet tapestries, and the masterpieces hanging on the wall. Just selling one piece would net me enough money to feed my family. Acid burned his throat, and astringent tears blinded him. He fought his grief and hurried to his brother’s chambers.
The large canopy bed had red satin sheets, all tucked in and tidy. Will removed the picture of their mother. Only this survived the fire that had claimed her life and their childhood house. He unlocked his brother’s safe. Of course, the narcissist used his birth date for the combination.
Inside were some legal documents, some fake, some real, and large stacks of money and gold bars. Bile rose in Will’s mouth and he gagged on the bitterness. My family just needed one bar, and our lives would have been set.
Will glanced through the papers. Apparently, Erik had made his money illegally, not that Will was surprised. The papers did not give enough details for Will to know the exact nature of Erik’s crimes. That did not concern Will. Only the gem.
He hurried to Erik’s study. The door was locked. A minor inconvenience and Will kicked the knob until it broke and the door swung open.
A large Victorian-style desk occupied most of the space. He opened it and searched thoroughly. One of the drawers had a false bottom and contained a small black book.
Will read: She wants the gem, but I won’t let her have it. It is the only way to ensure that she returns. I never felt this way before, not even with Claudia. Have I finally found it? Love? After all these years?
A diary? My hardened brother, criminal, cheater, kept a diary? Will laughed at the absurd notion. Skimming through the rest of the book, Will found no more mention of the mysterious woman or the gem.
Maybe he was sneaking around trying to find a location for the gem. Maybe he hadn’t found one yet. If so, the gem should still be in the house somewhere.
Will combed the house and found no trace of the gem. Instead, he found a large closet full of women’s clothes. For his many ‘lovers’. Will shook his head with disgust and then sighed. Who am I to judge him? I am his killer, and I killed my own family.
Annoyed that he hadn’t asked Senora where she’d seen Erik stare at the gem, Will returned to his brother’s desk. He sat in the leather chair and played with the false bottom. His fingers pressed into indentations, and he flipped it over. Engraved into the wood was the saying: Darkness of night will be revealed once the Stone of the Wolves is brought into light.
Stone of the Wolves? Will clenched his fists. Damn that judge for her punishment, condemning me to a life as a werewolf! But I wonder, is the stone magical? And if so, would the witches and warlocks be after it? Could my brother have been in love with a witch?
His instincts told him that the gem was still in the mansion. He sniffed deeply. Why did I do that? The reflex had been self-conscious. The window gave a large view of the property, and night was growing ever closer. And I’ll be a wolf again. He knew this instinctively, and his body almost craved the power that came with the other form.
He sniffed again. The scent of magic pulled him. Magic? What does magic smell like? He could not label the smell with a different word. Following the aroma, he stood against the side wall. His fingers felt the rough wallpaper and tapped the wall. A hollow sound resulted. He punched the wall twice, and the plaster gave way. A small room became visible, and on a small round table, there sat a large red stone.
Will grabbed the stone. It pulsed in his hands as if alive, and his own heartbeat matched the rhythm. The heart-shaped ruby, the size of his two hands, grew scalding hot, and Will dropped it. His hands were burned, scarred.
Night fell, the moon shining into the dark study, and Will changed. This time, he welcomed the burning sensation. This is my personal hell. I deserve this. He grabbed the stone with his mouth and ran out into the night.
<<<>>>
Ruby circled the air above Erik’s mansion. Where else would he have gone? She contemplated reverting back into her natural form but rejected the notion.
Night descended before William left the mansion. He ran, and Ruby followed. When the werewolf stopped on top of a large hill, Ruby landed and instantly transformed. “Hello, William.”
The wolf turned and bared its teeth, an object dropping from his mouth.
Ruby gasped. It couldn’t be. The Stone? “Give that to me!” she demanded.
William ignored her, grabbed the stone back into his mouth, and ran.
She called after him, magically making her voice carry on the wind to his ear, “I know all about you. You and Erik. He told me all about you.”
William stopped running but did not return to her.
Ruby took one small step forward. “He did love you. In his own way. He wanted you to succeed. He thought that if he helped you, you would never be able to make it on your own.” She laughed. “And look where you are now.”
The wolf loosed a long howl and trotted back to her. His eyes were alight with fire.
Where is the Stone? Did he drop it in the grass? She changed her eyes to hawk ones and hunted the grass for it to no avail. She zapped the wolf with lightening. “Tell me where the Stone is, and I’ll tell you everything.”
The wolf shook his head. “No.” The voice was raspy and harsh, the word howled instead of spoken.
“Maybe if I talk first?” I must have that Stone!
The wolf considered and nodded.
“I met your brother a year ago. He intrigued me. He was different from other males. He craved power, desired it. Wanted to be the best at everything. He was a storm, a wild storm. He reminded me of myself.”
“So you were his mysterious woman. The one he loved.”
Ruby laughed. “If he loved me, he never showed it. Love between a witch and a human? Those of the fey blood cannot mingle with mortals.” She shook her head. “No, we did not love each other. We had an arrangement. I would teach him some magic, and he would help me find a stone.”
“The Stone of the Wolves.”
“Yes. And he did find it. Only he kept it for himself. Your brother’s days were numbered before you killed him. Because if you hadn’t, I would have.”
The werewolf growled at her and leaped at her throat, the large, glistening teeth tearing at her neck. She threw the wolf down and turned into a raven and tried to peck at his eyes.
The wolf launched onto her small bird from and planted her on the ground, an enormous paw on each wing. She transformed again, into a li
oness, and two wrestled. She bit his neck, and he slashed her stomach. She roared with pain and clawed him in the stomach.
Against her hand, she felt a warmth and a rush of knowledge. He swallowed it. He must die! She attacked as if possessed. She lunged at him. They rolled off the hill, and he collided into a tree. He howled and leaped, his teeth sinking into her arm. She ripped her arm back and ignored her dripping wound as she swiped his face. One of her claws dug in too deeply, and she had to tear it away.
The wolf screamed in agony, and she continued her attack. She bit his tail, his leg, his side. He tried to attack back but grew weak. Finally, she held his jugular in her throat, and she snapped his neck. The werewolf slumped, his body broken and bloodied, useless and dead.
With a long claw, Ruby punctured his stomach and retrieved the Stone. She resumed her true form and stood there for a long moment. Ruby stared at the Stone, willing herself the luxury of seeing into the only other werewolf on the earth, a rapist by the name of David Spurling. It was his first night as a werewolf, and the madness and guilt was just beginning to set in. Spurling rushed from the scene of his loved ones’ dead bodies and ran. She fueled his helplessness and despair until he plunged himself into a river and drowned.
The rush of power, of complete control over others, filled her and claimed her. With this, I will become the next Grand Witch Empress! Thoughts of supremacy and domination filled her. She floated into the air, high on energy, magic, and power.
“There you are, Ruby.”
Ruby dropped back to the ground and glared at the witch before her. “I took care of it, Opal. The werewolf is dead.”
Opal shook her head, and her purple hair covered her like a cloak. “You, Ruby Ravenwinger, are charged with the crime of consorting with a human.”
“That is preposterous! I never—”
“Do you deny that you returned weekly to Erik Chambers’ mansion? Do you deny training Erik, a human, in the knowledge and ways of magic? Do you deny loving him?” Opal’s form grew larger and more imposing. “Choose your words carefully, Ruby, or they shall be your last.”