The Persecution of the Wolves

by Lucy Felthouse

  Thinking of the villagers brought him full circle. Since they’d come to the conclusion it was a human trying to frame them, someone in Eyam was the obvious answer. Despite the fact it was a small village and the number of people who knew about his and Matthew’s animal sides was even smaller, it was still a fair number of people to consider. Had Matthew ever argued with anyone in the pub? Thrown someone out for being too drunk, too rowdy? He’d definitely be the one to do that sort of work—he made the six-foot, sixteen stone pub landlord look short and skinny—so that was definitely a consideration.

  Another, even more unpleasant thought was that it was a woman. One Matthew had snubbed, perhaps? God knew there were enough women in the village who wouldn’t mind going to bed with his brother, and much more besides. He’d had numerous offers over the years.

  He immediately ruled out anyone over sixty—they just wouldn’t have had the physical strength and energy to do what had been done to those sheep. That and if it had been a grievance years or even decades old, why air it now?

  He turned his thoughts to women who maybe did have the physical strength to carry out such violence, as well as the intelligence to get away with it. That narrowed the choices down considerably, certainly enough for him to dig into the women in question and figure out whether he was onto something.

  The internet could help him out in that regard, but it simply didn’t compare to face-to-face contact with someone. That way he could ask all the right questions, listen to their answers, read their body language. So many centuries of being around humans had made him incredibly good at reading them, so he’d be able to rule out some of the potentials almost immediately.

  It was an excellent plan, and he was eager to get on with it straight away. But it was still too early—the pub wasn’t open yet. And besides, many of the women on his mental list would be out at work, in most cases outside the village. There were a few who wouldn’t be, so he’d start with them.

  Now he had purpose, a plan, Isaac felt a hundred times better. He hadn’t found the person, solved the problem yet, but it didn’t matter. Taking a step in the right direction was a tonic, and one he intended to make the most of.

  He’d have a shower, put on some clean clothes, then head out and play detective. Starting with the museum, as it was nearest, then working his way through the village, he’d speak to every woman and rule them out, one by one. By the time he’d done all that, the pub would be open and he could do the same there, as well as grabbing himself a pint. Maybe something stronger—he felt he deserved it now, so by then, he’d definitely have earned it.

  Isaac didn’t dare to hope for… anything, really. Not that he was right about who was doing this, and not that if he was right, he’d find the woman in question quickly. Too many things were against him and his brother at this stage—he just couldn’t expect things to go their way. It would be too easy.

  By the time he was halfway along the village, Isaac was beginning to wish he’d stayed at home and done his research online. It would have been way quicker. Because he’d been going into the shops and places of business with the express purpose of talking to people, that was exactly what he’d had to do. And some of those people had been much chattier than others, gabbing his ears off until he could scarcely take in what they were saying. Isaac now knew more about many of the women of the village, their partners, friends, families, pets, houses, and, naturally, ailments than he’d ever thought possible. He was an encyclopaedia of knowledge on those topics.

  On a positive note, he’d been able to rule out every relevant woman he’d spoken to so far, but he was already jonesing for that drink—and it was definitely going to have to be something stronger than a pint of beer.

  Pulling in a deep breath, he resisted the temptation to run home, lock the door, and never speak to anyone except for his brother ever again. Even though “ever again” would be a bloody long time. Forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other, he arrived at the village shop owned by Alexander Kennedy and found himself torn between hoping that the man’s daughter Amy was at work, and that she wasn’t. As much as he hated to think it, Amy was a fair contender for the role of sheep slaughterer. She was tall, athletic, and although she was quiet, Isaac had always thought she had hidden depths. There was no questioning her quick mind. Adding all of that to the fact she’d been crushing on Matthew for years with no sign of letting up… Isaac really hoped he was wrong. She was a nice girl, and even considering she might be doing this to them was heartbreaking.

  The bell above the door jangled as he pushed it open, and he arranged his face into a friendly smile for the benefit of anyone who might be around. Alexander Kennedy had opened up, so he’d probably be there even if his daughter wasn’t. Christ, it felt like days ago that Alex had told him and his brother the vicar was at their house waiting for them, not just a few hours.

  Isaac’s smile faltered at the thought and he forced it back into place as he walked deeper into the shop, looking for whomever was working.

  He didn’t spot Amy until he almost fell over her. He’d been just about to shout out in case they were in the back when she’d appeared from around the corner of one of the shelving units.

  “Oh shit,” Isaac said, stopping in his tracks. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” In most cases, he’d have been able to hear her, but the too-loud, too-cheerful music being piped through the speakers had put paid to that.

  “Oh, hi, Isaac,” Amy said, smiling prettily. “Sorry. I was just tidying up, stocking up. You know, the usual excitement.”

  In spite of himself, Isaac grinned back. She was such a nice girl—could she really be the one they were searching for?

  Amy hesitated and her smile faded. “C-can I help you with anything, Isaac? Are you all right? You’ve gone a bit pale.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Hey, Richard, wanna drop me off at Nathaniel Marsden’s place?” Matthew said as the vicar drove past the museum on their way back into the village.

  “Of course, no problem. I didn’t realise you had work today.”

  “I don’t. Not really. I can kinda do what I want when I want on that job, but I’m getting close to the stage where I can start planting stuff, so in other words, close to the end. Plus, I really need something to distract me for a bit while I figure some stuff out.”

  Richard shrugged. “Fair enough. You’re not going to speak to your brother?”

  “Not just yet. We said we’d get in contact if we found something out. And we’ve discovered precisely nothing, so there’s no rush.”

  They fell silent and Richard steered the car through the village with frequent stops along the narrow road to let traffic pass by. Eventually, they pulled into Nathaniel’s road and stopped outside his house.

  “Thanks, mate,” Matthew said, opening the door and hopping out. “And I don’t just mean for the lift. I don’t know what we’d do without you on our side.” He slammed the door closed and walked around the vehicle, towards Nathaniel’s house.

  He turned when a voice came from behind him. The vicar had wound down the window on his side of the car. “You’re welcome, Matthew. And thanks for breakfast.” Richard buzzed the window back up, then continued down the road, presumably to turn around.

  Heading down the path to the property’s back garden, Matthew let out a sigh of relief. He was in no desperate hurry to do any more work on Nathaniel’s garden. What he really wanted was to be alone. Isaac would probably be at home, so at least coming here and making some progress on this job meant he’d have some quiet time to think.

  He opened the shed door and retrieved the lawnmower. Once he’d got the grass down to a manageable length, he could tidy up the edges of the lawn and the borders, then it was ready for some plants. He crossed over to collect the key from under the pot, and was just bending to get it when the back door opened.

  “Hey, Matthew,” Nathaniel said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Likewise.” Matthew forced a smile. It
wasn’t Nathaniel’s fault he was having a shitty time of it.

  “Touché. I’m working from home today.” He indicated the garden. “You’ve made massive progress, mate, thanks. It looks as though you’re almost done.”

  “I am. Just gonna mow the lawn, then tidy up the rest. Then I was gonna discuss plants with you. Still want me to deal with all that?”

  “That would be fantastic, thank you. I really appreciate it. Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll sort you out with some cash.”

  “Hey, is this gonna bother you if you’re working from home? I don’t want to disturb you while I’m mowing.” He pointed to the mower, then took the opportunity to flip it over and check the blades. It was the first time he’d used it, so he wanted to make sure there was nothing caught in them and that they were sharp enough for the job, otherwise it’d be damn hard work.

  “Nope. I’m not doing very much today. Say, do you mind if I ask you something?”

  Matthew’s heart gave an unpleasant lurch. Christ, he was going to ask about Isaac, wasn’t he? What the hell could he say? Yes, he really likes you too, it’s just we’re werewolves, so we can’t get into relationships for a million and one reasons. You may as well just forget him and move on. Sorry.

  “Go for it,” he choked out, gazing intently at the underside of the lawnmower.

  “I just wondered what’s going on today. I popped to the shop earlier and heard that another dead sheep has been found on the moor.”

  “Yes…”

  “It’s terrible, of course, and awful for the farmer. But I just wondered why everyone’s being so weird about it. It’s as if they’re on edge or hiding something. I dunno, maybe I’m just getting the wrong end of the stick or I don’t know folk well enough yet. But something doesn’t seem right.”

  In lieu of an answer, Matthew started scraping at the clumps of grass stuck around the blades of the mower. He quickly regretted it when he caught the side of his wrist on one of the sharp edges and cut himself.

  “Shit!” He snatched his hand away and cradled it in the crook of his other arm, sucking in a breath through his teeth as pain bloomed along his nerve endings.

  “Christ,” Nathaniel said, his eyes wide with concern. “Are you all right? How bad is it? Do you want me to call your brother?”

  “No,” he ground out, holding his wrist tightly. Not to stop the blood flow, which had already slowed considerably, but to prevent Nathaniel from seeing how quickly the wound was healing. “It’s all right—I’ll head home now and have him look at it. Do you have an old tea towel or something I can use to stop me leaving a trail of blood across the village?” Nathaniel’s eyes widened further, and Matthew shook his head. “Hey, I’m joking. It’s not that bad, honestly. I just don’t want to get it all over my clothes. They may be old ones, but blood’s awful to get out.”

  “Uh, yeah, hang on.”

  The other man disappeared into the house and came out holding a tea towel that had seen better days. “Here you go. It looks crap, but it’s clean, I promise. Hey, you probably ought to ask Isaac about a tetanus jab, if you haven’t had one lately. It’s better to be on the safe side, isn’t it?”

  “I will do. Thanks. Don’t worry. Would you mind putting the lawnmower away for me, please? I’ll come back tomorrow and finish up. Sorry for messing you around.” He hurriedly wrapped the cloth around his wrist and cradled it again.

  “Tomorrow? Will you be all right? There’s no rush, really. I’d rather make sure you’re all healed up before you carry on.”

  I’ll be healed up by the time you’re done talking, at this rate. “I’ll be fine, honestly. It’s just a shallow cut.”

  Nathaniel wrinkled his nose. “Only if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. I’m going to go now, all right?” He began walking.

  “Of course. Take care, won’t you? Make sure your brother looks at it!”

  “I will.” He was already at the corner of the house, and he continued along the path and out onto the street.

  Within ten minutes, he was home and had almost immediately ascertained his brother wasn’t there. To Matthew’s surprise, he hadn’t left a note. Isaac had said he was going to do some digging with regards to finding out who was trying to frame them, and now he’d gone out.

  Shrugging, Matthew figured he’d have a good reason. Either he’d been called in to the surgery or he was out there doing the investigating in person. It didn’t matter. After pulling the cloth off his wrist, he saw that, amongst all the smeared and crusted blood, the cut had healed up, leaving nothing but a silvery line that looked like a years-old scar. Even that would fade, and it would be as if it had never happened. He’d have to wear a bandage on it for a while in case he bumped into Nathaniel. A super-fast-healing wound would ring more than a few alarm bells with the newcomer.

  He went into the kitchen, turned on the taps and rinsed the blood from his skin, watching as the water in the sink ran pink at first, then lighter and lighter until it was clear once more. Only then did he turn off the taps and wipe his hands on a clean tea towel. He grabbed the one Nathaniel had lent him and dropped it into the laundry basket in the utility room.

  After that, he was at a loss. Going back to work on Nathaniel’s garden wasn’t an option and he was already on top of their own and Mrs Smithers’. The housework was done, there wasn’t enough washing for a load, and he wasn’t quite bored enough to do any ironing. He always made sure he was too busy to do it and left it in the hope that Isaac would get sick of the teetering pile and crack on with it.

  In the absence of anything to do, his mind started racing. Going over what had happened during the past couple of months again and again. Two dead sheep, accusations flying their way, strange looks from the villagers. It was horrible and infuriating. All he’d ever wanted was a normal life. And, for the most part, he’d had one. Other than transforming into a wolf one night a month, he lived a totally normal life. Normal house, normal job, normal hobbies.

  The only thing, perhaps, that was unusual was his single status. He liked women a lot. Respected them too, and wanted a whole lot more than the occasional one-night stands and the visits to Manchester and Sheffield to see his friends with benefits. But he’d resigned himself to not having all that a long time ago, and anyone who was aware of their secret knew why he and his brother did not have romantic entanglements.

  He just wasn’t all that unusual. So why did he feel as though he had a giant flashing sign hovering over his head, drawing attention to him?

  Nobody had confronted him, other than the three idiots who had come into the caves, and that hadn’t really been confrontation. But he felt the stares, felt the change in attitude this time around. Nathaniel had been right—everyone was acting weird.

  Gripping the kitchen work surface hard, Matthew let the anger wash over him for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He couldn’t ignore it, because it wouldn’t go away. Until the situation got sorted, he was going to be angry, upset, confused, and a whole bunch of other things he didn’t like being.

  He wanted… something. A naked woman in his bed, a beautiful woman he could lose himself in, distract himself with, and maybe even claim some happiness—even if only for a short while. He wanted to leave the village and go and get drunk somewhere, totally and utterly pissed so his worries faded away into the deepest recesses of his mind. Sadly, neither of those things was an option.

  Matthew decided to settle for a close third. He’d go to the pub. Yes, it meant being amongst people, some of whom would be shooting him looks, silently accusing him, but he didn’t care. There was no way he was hiding inside the house. It would be almost like an admission of guilt, as would running away. No, fuck it. He’d go out there, face everyone, and let them say and do whatever they wanted while he drank the contents of the Miners Arms. He’d still get drunk, but he’d do it on home turf.

  After showering, changing, and bandaging his “injured” wrist, he stuffed his wallet and phone into his pocke
t and headed out, wondering again where his brother was. He’d drop him a text once he got to the pub, let him know where he was if Isaac wanted to talk or had anything to share. Perhaps they could get shitfaced together—it had been a while.

  He shoved open the front door to the pub and a pang of guilt hit him as it smacked the wall, making a mark on the paint. Fuck. He’d have a go at that with some cleaning spray and a cloth when he was next working. Dennis didn’t deserve to have his pub vandalised by his grumpy employee—especially since, so far, he’d been supportive of his and Isaac’s plight.

  He stepped through and took the spare stool at the bar. Gordon wasn’t there, but he wasn’t going to risk sitting in his place—he had enough people pissed off with him at the moment.

  Dennis himself appeared, smiling. “Hey, mate. All right?”

  “Yes, thanks.” His words didn’t even convince him, so he knew they wouldn’t convince his boss. “No, I’m not actually. That’s why I’m here. Please can you help me get drunk?”

  Dennis grabbed a glass and filled it with whisky, then placed it in front of Matthew. “There’s a start. You’re paying for the rest, but that one’s on me, just to say… you know.” He lowered his voice. “I’m on your side. You can be a total pain in the arse at times, but you’re also one of the nicest blokes I know.”

  Matthew gave a genuine smile. “Thank you, Dennis. For the drink and the words. Both of them mean a lot.”

  “You’re welcome. Let me know when you’re ready for another.” With that, he gave a nod and headed off to serve the next customer.

  Matthew swivelled on the stool and surveyed the room. It was the middle of the day, so there weren’t many villagers about, mainly tourists. They plopped their National Trust carrier bags and Eyam village maps onto their seats and tucked into good food and enjoyed the pleasant atmosphere before heading back out to continue exploring. They had absolutely no idea what day to day life was like here and even less of an idea what Matthew was going through and why.