by Megan Morgan
He stepped forward, and reached out and took the bottle, plucking it from between her fingers. “What is it you ask in this compromise?”
She lowered her arm. “I want her to bring Dafydd out of the woods for examination. I don’t trust that we won’t be harmed if we come to your camp.”
The corner of his mouth jerked in a sneer. “He is wild with the Sickness. How would we transport him?”
“You could carry me fighting and screaming, surely you can strap him to something and bring him out. Dr. Winston might be able to do more if he has all his tools at his disposal.”
“And how is that safe for us? We bring him out of the woods so your Lycans can shoot us?”
“I won’t let the Lycans do anything to you.” A bold statement, but maybe she could talk some sense into them. “They won’t even be there except for Deacon—my mate. I promise.”
He sneered again, showing thick wide teeth and his huge blunt fangs. “How could we ever trust a promise from you?”
“I’m doing this, am I not?” She pointed at the bottle. “I didn’t have to give this to you.”
“Neala will laugh in my face if I present this compromise to her.”
“Even though it’s the best chance of saving Dafydd’s life?”
His eyes flashed, like a cat’s. “We cannot trust you.” He closed his gigantic hand around the bottle. “After what your people did to us.”
“Just take my offer to Neala. Ask her to bring Dafydd to the house where you brought me this morning, at this time of day. It will only be me, Dr. Winston, and one Lycan. We won’t be armed.” Her words were insane, but she had to try. “You may bring as many Wolvites as you like for protection. If you see a weapon on any of us, you can end things and take me away into the woods with you.”
Deacon wouldn’t like that detail, wouldn’t like any of this, but he’d have to deal with it.
“Tell Neala,” Lorena continued, “this is Dafydd’s best chance of survival. See what she says. Please?”
He huffed, a great gust of air. “She will not agree, no matter your promises.”
“Will you please just ask her?”
He stepped closer, engulfing her in his shadow. She stiffened and tried not to breathe in. He was handsome, but the stench that rolled off him wasn’t pleasant.
“We will come for you tomorrow,” he said. “You will do as you were asked to do. Be ready.”
She looked up and into his eyes. So dark, and yet luminous with his inner glow. She was fascinated by their human forms, however alien and terrifying.
“Just ask her,” Lorena said.
He did something unexpected then. He placed his hand on her face, and cupped her entire cheek and part of her head. His skin was warm and rough and his touch surprisingly gentle. She widened her eyes, terrified to move.
“You are a bold witch indeed.” He spoke close to her face, his breath reeking as the rest of him. “But you stink of Lycan.”
He let go of her and withdrew. Before she could get her wits about her, he walked off into the trees.
“Kendrick! Ask her?”
He disappeared into the shadows.
She stood there a moment, not sure what to do with herself, then turned and hurried toward the house. His oddly complementary words rang in her ears and his touch lingered on her face.
* * * *
Deacon lay in bed next to Lorena. She was propped up on her pillows, studying a potion book, or one of them books witches got their knowledge from. Stacy probably gave it to her, since Lorena still wasn’t keen on Grammy’s gifts. He’d hoped by now she would’ve come around on that front. He knew better than to prod a woman, though.
He rolled toward her and sniffed. “I swan you still got some Wolvite stink on you. I keep catching a whiff.”
She looked down at him. “I took two showers today. But they smell so bad, I’m sure it’s possible.” She looked back at her book and turned a page.
He scooted up next to her. “I don’t like it. I don’t like them having their nasty odor all over you.”
She patted his arm. “I’ll shower again in the morning. My skin is going to slough off if I take another one right now. I’ll be up early, I have to drive to Lexington to pick up Dr. Winston.”
Deacon sagged. “I still think we ought to take off, all of us, hide for a couple days and let your agency take care of things.”
The immediate storm that gathered in her eyes told him he was about to get an earful. He braced himself.
“One, I don’t work for the agency anymore. Two, why are you so keen to continue this cycle? If you keep lashing out at each other, there will never be an end to it. Don’t you want Blue Ditch to be safe? Don’t you want to be able to put down your gun and live a peaceful life?”
“With them dead, I could do that too.”
“Yes, genocide. That’s the answer.” She adjusted the book on her knees, scowling.
“I know you want this to get worked out without any more bloodshed, but you only know this situation from the outside. You studied Wolvites, but it ain’t like having them living in your backyard your entire life. You ain’t seen firsthand what they’re capable of, whether they got a human side or not.”
She glared at him.
“I know, your Mama.” He gentled his voice. “It’s damn awful that happened. But I seen them do stuff like that lots of times. They might tell you it’s retaliation, that they feel threatened and this is the only way to hold us back, but it’s like you said. One side striking the other, over and over. This war is old. We all gotta protect ourselves, any way we know how.”
She flipped a page.
“I would love peace, I would. I’d love to lay down my gun. But they ain’t gonna let that happen. We know a whole bunch more about them now, about their human side, and I think that makes it worse. If they was no smarter than a dog, just acting on instinct, that would be one thing. But they got minds like us and they been doing this in a calculated way.”
Clem was stretched out at the bottom of the bed. Deacon gave him a comforting nudge with his foot for the “no smarter than a dog” comment.
“They never let us know what they really are,” he said. “All these years. They wanted us to think they were dumb beasts. It gave them an advantage, and that’s even crueler.”
She still had nothing to say. He hated it when she got quiet like that.
“They let us think they were animals, instead of approaching us for some kind of peace. So we kept killing them.”
“I understand what you’re saying.” She smoothed her hands over the book. “But…”
He sat up on one elbow. “When we was boys, I used to try to get Jack to hit me first, so I could whoop on him and then cry to Mama about how he started it. Same thing they been doing.”
“And of course, you felt justified in hitting him back after that.”
“You see what I’m saying? They hid their human side, so we’d show up and start some bullmess. Then they have a reason to rise up and kill us all. They can say ‘oh us poor Wolvites, we was just defending ourselves.’”
She looked at him, her lips pressed in a tight line. “However, you’re more organized, you can sneak up on them, and you have guns. You’ve always had the upper hand. It’s like if Jack was just a kid and you were a full grown adult.”
“I reckon that makes my point sharper, don’t it? They’re weaker, they don’t have the kind of weaponry we have. They’re as smart as us but don’t have our advantages, and they still don’t reveal their true selves. What’s that tell you? They want to be victims. Gives them a reason to chew up the town, but we look like the bad guys.”
“Maybe it’s not that they’re weaker, just not civilized in the way we are. They cling to their primitive society. Our encroachment threatens that and the only way they know how to deal with it is to let us give them reasons to kill us.”
“Still goes back to what I said.” He laid back and tucked his arms behind his head. “They want Lycans p
ainted with a bloody brush—all humans, really. That’s why they never revealed themselves.”
Lorena closed her book and laid it aside. She slid down next to him. Her hair spilled around her face in a dark curtain and he couldn’t help but reach out and stroke his fingers through it. He couldn’t be mad at her. Couldn’t stay mad, anyway.
“I’m in a tough position.” Her voice was soft. “I’m a witch, but I’m also a scientist. You’re right, I didn’t grow up with them in my backyard, I didn’t see the situation firsthand like you did. I want peace. I want you to live a life where you don’t have to worry about random attacks or having me carried off into the woods. I want the Wolvites to no longer feel the need to act out.”
He smoothed his thumb down her jaw. “I don’t think peace is a bad thing at all. I just ain’t sure we can get to it.”
She closed her eyes, her long lashes falling against her cheeks. “I have to try.” She opened her eyes. “That’s the scientist in me, Deacon. I have to give it my best shot.”
He dragged his knuckles across her cheek. “Then I guess I gotta do my best to protect you while you try.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and nuzzled the top of her head. She was a fighter, he’d give her that. And a pistol. He’d never be able to control her, but he didn’t want to, he wanted to love her and understand her, and support her where he could.
“At least you still got a job, I reckon. You were worried you wouldn’t have nothing to do here soon.”
She huffed against his chest. “Yeah, this sure clinched my job security.”
He gazed at the ceiling. “I’m glad for all of it, in a way. Glad you don’t have to leave. Glad they got you here in the first place.” He scratched lightly at her shoulder. “I like having you in my bed.”
She looked up at him. “It’s my bed now, too.”
“Clem used to be my favorite bed companion, but you overtook him a long time ago. At least you don’t fart as much as he does.”
She laughed. She sat up and leaned over him, draping her body across his as she reached over to switch off the lamp. He squeezed her ass under the sheet.
He caught another whiff of Wolvite as she drew back, and crinkled his nose. He wouldn’t shove her in the shower, though. Didn’t want her pretty, creamy skin to dry up. Maybe if he got a nose full of something else, he wouldn’t notice it as much.
“I know you got an early morning.” He rubbed her lower back. “But if you’re not too eager to get to sleep just yet…I mean, you don’t have to exert much effort.” He rubbed his mouth and chin. “I got a place right here you can sit and relax. Take a load off.”
She laughed again. “Is that so?”
Even in the darkness, he could make out her shape, every beautiful curve touched by the moonlight. He loved his keen eyesight.
“I won’t keep you awake too long,” he promised. “I’ll make short work of you.”
She slipped her panties over her hips and down her thighs. “How can I say no to that?”
Chapter 8
Lorena stood in the backyard, facing the woods. The moonlight spread across the grass and frosted the treetops. In her right hand, she held a lantern.
At the tree line, a white figure stood. Neala’s dress shimmered around her slender frame and her hair tumbled in soft waves over her shoulders. She wasn’t dirty, or scrawny, or bedraggled. She looked beautiful.
“Neala?” Lorena walked toward her.
Neala didn’t move as she approached. Lorena stopped a few feet from her, so they were both cast in the golden light from the lantern. Neala’s face was passive, but her eyes were sad and troubled.
“I want to help,” Lorena said. “I don’t know if we can cure him, but I’m going to try. Dr. Winston is on his way.”
Neala lifted her hand and beckoned. “Come outside.”
Lorena snapped awake.
The bedroom was quiet, apart from the fan blowing in the corner. She turned her head. Deacon lay beside her, sprawled on his stomach, snoring.
She sat up. At the end of the bed, Clem lifted his head and gazed at her.
Lorena slipped from beneath the sheet and got up carefully. Clem watched her. She grabbed a pair of yoga pants and tugged them on.
Was she really going to do this? In the middle of the night?
She left the bedroom. A thump sounded behind her, indicating Clem was following. He padded after her as she walked to the kitchen.
She walked to the sink and gazed out the window, smoothing her hair back. She worked it into a knot at the back of her head and secured it with a tie. Her skin prickled. Something was out there, watching, waiting.
Clem followed her to the back porch, where she slipped on a pair of flip-flops.
“Stay here,” she whispered. “And be quiet, okay? Don’t tell Daddy what I’m doing.”
The dog gazed up at her, eyes glistening.
She considered her gun, hanging in its holster next to Deacon’s shotgun. After a moment’s thought, she opened the door without taking it.
The night was warm, the moonlight shimmering on the dew-damp grass. She walked across the yard and the prickly blades swished wet against her feet. She could feel, taste, and smell the night. The details around her sharpened as though the sun had come out.
Her heart was in her throat. This could be the dumbest thing she’d ever done, wandering out in the middle of the night, defenseless, without telling anyone where she was going.
Someone stood just inside the trees, a white figure.
“Neala? Come out, I’m unarmed.” She held her hands up.
The figure moved forward; indeed, it was her—not like in the dream, but dirty and pale again, her bones sharp beneath her skin. She wore a gray cloak.
“Your powers are getting stronger,” Neala said as Lorena approached. “You can communicate with me in your dreams now.”
Lorena stopped a few feet from her. She sensed Neala wasn’t alone, but then, she didn’t expect her to be.
“I’ve been practicing.” Lorena looked her over. “You look much healthier in my dreams, though.”
“We can look as we wish in the dream world, or as we should be.” She drew closer.
“And the lantern?” Lorena lifted her hand, as though it would be there.
“A symbol I use to guide you. You will learn these things, in time. How to control others with your unconscious mind.”
That sounded too much like something Hazel would say.
Neala tilted her head. “You’re not as weak as you think. You have great, untapped power. You were able to put up that ward, after all. The one that made sure our mates were slaughtered.”
Lorena shook her head. “I was trying to stop that from happening. But I couldn’t—” she clenched her fists “—I couldn’t make them listen to me. I couldn’t make either side listen.”
“Why do you keep company with Lycans? Why do you think that’s the right side to be on?”
She recalled Deacon’s words earlier. “Why do you want to fight the Lycans? Wouldn’t all of you live a better life if you came to some kind of peace? Abernathy wanted war, but it didn’t have to be that way, it doesn’t have to now.”
“The Lycans come into the Wolvites’ domain.” Neala’s eyes burned, her ashen face stony. “They kill all they come across, even those who pose no threat. The Lycans pick them off for sport. And Abernathy…” She clenched her jaw. “He was only doing what he thought best, striking back.”
She didn’t sound like she meant that. Lorena was curious and wanted to ask her about it.
She stayed on the point instead. “The Wolvites have human forms. Why did they hide that? Why not come forward and show the Lycans what they are? Do you think Deacon and his family would have continued killing them if they knew they were human, and that there were witches among them?”
Neala’s glare turned icy. “Wolvites are not human. Their human forms are an illusion. Their true form is the beast.”
“Their secrets are not for Lycans to know. Not for anyone to know.”
“But now everyone does know. So don’t you think it’s time to talk peace?”
Neala sneered.
“It’s different now,” Lorena said. “These are not the days of rural isolation and superstitious farmers. The world has advanced. Technology has advanced. Weaponry has advanced. All to the Wolvites’ disadvantage. Their environment is disappearing. If they don’t adapt, they’re going to be wiped out.”
Neala bared her teeth, though they were only human teeth. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a fact. You were born here. You know this world is going to eventually overwhelm their domain and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. If they want to survive, they have to try to fit in.”
Perhaps Neala, and maybe the other witches, could be made to see reason. Maybe they were the place to start.
“Why did you call me out here?” Lorena opened her arms. “I brought no weapons, to show you I was serious about what I offered. Did Kendrick pose my compromise to you?”
“He did.”
“It’s not just to our advantage. Dr. Winston can do more if he has access to all his equipment. He’s studied the virus.”
“The potion you gave Dafydd…” Neala’s haughty demeanor lessened. “It eased his symptoms.”
Lorena gaped. “It did?”
“He calmed somewhat, even slept. He isn’t well, not even close, but he seems to be in less pain. If I could get him to shift to his human form, I could speak to him.”
“I’m glad it worked.”
“How did an unlearned witch like you know to make such a potion, when even we have not discovered such a thing?”
“The potion was just a delivery medium.” Lorena’s scientific wonder was piqued. “It started with Dr. Winston. He said acid from the shagbark hickory had lessened the virus’s power in his experiments, and we just mixed it with a basic calming potion. That’s amazing.” She couldn’t wait to tell him.