The Artist Cries Wolf

by Heather Horrocks

  “I should spray you just because you didn’t come home.” And because he looked a little too smug.

  “You shouldn’t run along the path alone. It can be dangerous at night.”

  “You’re telling me. I saw a wolf. Another one. Actually, I think it was the same one I saw in the square earlier, or another one that looked just like it. Big and black and huge.”

  “See, there you go. It’s dangerous. Stick to the paved roads and you’ll be safer.”

  “Hey, I’ve got skills!” Her ire was rising, but she couldn’t help but think about how little she could have done with just a can of bear spray a few minutes ago.

  He shook his head and laughed, which made her want to spray him with the bear spray for real.

  She tagged after him along the deserted road, streetlights shining overhead and porch lights marking each house. “I do have skills! I know how to take care of myself.”

  He tipped his head, and smiled tolerantly. “Okay. Show me these supposed skills.”

  She hadn’t practiced karate for the past three years for nothing. She’d earned her brown belt the year before.

  She stepped closer to him.

  His smile extended into a smug grin.

  She move to punch him in the solar plexus — only he stepped out of the way before her fist connected.

  Darn. He’d moved faster than any black belt she’d ever seen.

  Without waiting, she kicked out with a roundhouse.

  Again he moved, blocking her with a slight flick of his wrist.

  Crap. She’d forgotten that he had military training.

  He tipped his head. “Tell me when you start.”

  She punched and did her yell — he sidestepped, grabbed her around the waist, spun her around, and dropped them both to the grass.

  She fought against him. “Let go of me!”

  Nothing she did helped. She punched and kicked and he chuckled in her ear. “You’re pretty good — but I’m better.”

  Aaarrrrggghhh! His arrogance ticked her off even more.

  Finally, out of breath, she stopped. He rolled them so he was beside her, his head above her. He smiled down on her. “Give up?”

  “I will never say uncle.”

  “That’s okay. Just say something more feminine like,” he continued in a falsetto, “Oh, Samuel! You’re so strong!”

  Surprised, she laughed. In a sarcastic tone, she said, “You are so freaking strong!”

  “Say it like you mean it.”

  And this time, when he laughed at the rebellious look on her face, she started laughing too. She couldn’t help it. His laughter was contagious.

  And instead of feeling trapped, she felt totally safe with him.

  When she caught her breath again, she put her hand on his biceps and squeaked, in her own falsetto, “Oh Samuel! You are soooooo strong!”

  And then they both laughed. He released her and lay back against the grass beside her, one arm still under her. “Now was that so difficult to say?”

  She started to giggle. Why did she feel so safe with Samuel? Maybe it was just because she’d been scared to death by the wolf.

  The wolf! She’d completely forgotten.

  She sobered and rolled onto her side. “I really did see a wolf. It looked like the same one I saw in town. And this wasn’t some studio thing. I saw its eyes reflecting. It was real.”

  He nodded and rolled to his side as she had, so that he was facing her. “All the more reason for you to stay off the trail and run on the streets. Adam wanted me to keep you safe, remember? It’s hard to do that if you won’t listen to me or let me know where you are.”

  “I left a note.” She couldn’t keep the defensive note out of her voice.

  “I haven’t been home yet,” he pointed out.

  She sat up. “Yeah, why don’t we discuss that for a moment.”

  He looked sheepish as he climbed up, giving her a hand to pull her to her feet.

  She continued. “I would appreciate it if you don’t leave me alone at night. I’ve had some issues in the past and I’m not comfortable in your house after dark. Too many places for somebody to hide.”

  He nodded and took one of her hands, warming her. “You’re right. I was remiss. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  He looked so serious that she smiled. “I fixed you dinner, you know.”

  “You did?” When she nodded, he said, “Now I feel even worse.”

  “Good. Because it was my momma’s enchilada recipe. You should know that people have killed for that recipe — and you didn’t even bother to come home to eat it.”

  “Any left for me?” He looked at her hopefully.

  She bounced on the balls of her feet again. “I saved a little. But I won’t next time. I’ll run it down the garbage disposal rather than save any for you.”

  “That’s harsh, woman.”

  She started jogging at a moderate pace, and he fell into step beside her.

  They didn’t speak as they ran, but her heart warmed.

  It was turning out that the feelings she’d had for him over the last few years may just be real. She was definitely attracted, and he made her laugh. That was a killer combination.

  She was going to stick around this town for a while. If these feelings were real, she wanted to give it every chance to develop into something.

  Suddenly, a loud crack disrupted the quiet of the evening. At first she thought it was a car backfiring, but before she could process the sound as a gunshot, Samuel’s body slammed into hers, driving her to the ground and knocking the breath out of her.

  People Can Be Such Trolls

  SAMUEL WRAPPED HIS ARMS AROUND Amber and rolled her toward two parked cars. He felt shards of window glass cut into his back as they rolled.

  Luckily, that would heal, though it hurt like fury now. He had to make sure no one else got hurt — especially Amber!

  He pushed her between the cars and whispered urgently, “Get behind these. The bullet came from the other direction. I’m going to track down the perp.”

  “Don’t leave me alone!” she said. “Please!”

  “You’ll be all right,” he promised. “Just stay down, stay quiet, and wait here for me.” And he silently promised Adam, She will be all right. I’ll make sure of it. At that moment, he realized that he wanted very much to keep her safe. His wolf called out, Mine!

  His wolf had never claimed a mate before.

  Did that mean she was really his mate?

  He rolled to his feet, and the same troll he’d bested just yesterday ran toward him, raising his huge fists and pounding the pavement with his size eighty-five extra-wide feet. Fred had predicted he’d be out in twenty-four hours, and he’d apparently nailed it.

  “Get behind the car and use your phone to call 911 and ask for backup.” He motioned her behind him and ran away from the cars in an attempt to lead the troll away from Amber.

  The troll turned, slowly, his ugly features distorted in rage.

  Stupid trolls.

  A huge fist came crashing down and Samuel leapt to the side just in time to avoid being smashed. He jumped agilely onto the large creature’s back. “And so we meet again,” he growled, as if he were an actor in a bad monster movie.

  “This time you die!” the troll roared, swatting behind him. He actually landed a glancing blow, which knocked Samuel off and sent him rolling into the middle of the street.

  Samuel jumped up and stretched out his neck and shoulders. This time he’d be ready for the ugly beast.

  In disbelief, Amber watched the fight. She had to help Samuel — somehow. But there was a freaking real-life troll attacking him.

  First she pulled out her phone with trembling fingers, and called the sheriff’s department. After reporting the attack, she searched for a weapon. She pulled out the bear spray. Would this be enough to do anything except anger the huge creature? He was bigger than a bear so it might not affect him much.

  And how was this happening, anyway? Surely it
wasn’t some studio animatronics gone awry, but if it was, the tiny can of bear spray wouldn’t help against a robot.

  She spied a baseball bat that a kid had dropped by the porch of the house. She raced up and grabbed it, and then she ran back toward the street.

  Samuel was spinning and twirling and jumping much faster than the monster. Yes, monster. Whether human or animatronics, it was attacking Samuel, aiming to hurt him. It was a monster.

  Amber raised the bat, not yet ready to run out to face it.

  But when it grabbed Samuel’s arm, and slammed him into the ground, she made her move. While the beast’s attention was fully on Samuel, she ran out and jumped up on a car in order to reach high enough. Quickly she raised the bat — and slammed it into the beast’s head!

  “OW!” the beast roared and put its huge hands onto its head, releasing Samuel.

  By the time he turned in her direction, she’d already hidden behind the car she’d jumped on. The diversion gave Samuel just enough time to get up and slide some cuffs on the beast.

  The thing just stopped, standing motionless. It was still smack talking, though, until Samuel said, “Shut up!”

  She sank to the curb, her heart pounding, and waited for backup.

  Samuel’s phone started to ring.

  Samuel picked up the spent bullet from the ground — and his hand sizzled and burned. Quickly, he dropped the bullet into his pocket, the lining protecting him from the contact. He shook out his hand. Silver. So the beast had definitely been out for him specifically, or at least for any werewolf.

  Amber wasn’t safe beside him as long as the trolls had this vendetta against him. And why? Because he’d said one was stupid? Really? His uncle was right. He was going to be forced to contact the Troll Action Committee Task Force (T.A.C.T.) and report the attack — and issue an apology so they’d call off the Knoll Patrol.

  He turned to find Amber holding out her phone to him, her eyes wide as she stared at the troll, the phone shaking in her trembling hands.. “They want to talk to you.”

  “Who?”

  “The sheriff’s department.”

  This was going to be a nightmare. He took the phone and spoke with Larry, telling him they needed a containment truck — and quickly. And that they might also need an MRS — a Memory Removal Spell. Amber wasn’t going to believe in trolls.

  He handed the phone back to her. “That was quick thinking with the bat. Thanks. I guess you’re tougher than you look, after all.”

  “What is that thing? Is it seriously a troll? It’s—”

  “Whatever you say,” he interrupted, “don’t insult his intelligence. They take poorly to that.”

  “They … who?”

  He paused for a minute, debating whether to tell her the truth or not. He decided that after saving his bacon, she deserved the truth. “Trolls.”

  She replied, “I know. People can be such trolls. My stepfather is one.”

  “Really?” She’d thrown him for a loop; apparently she was in some kind of shock.

  She nodded.

  He needed to investigate this.

  Ten minutes later, an unmarked sheriff’s van pulled up to get the troll.

  Something More Enjoyable

  THE NEXT MORNING, SAMUEL STOOD at attention before the Minister of Trolls.

  The beast stood twelve feet tall and must have dressed out at half a ton. Half a ton of ticked-off troll — ticked off at Samuel.

  “What did you say?” the minister roared in his deep, rumbling tone.

  “I was attacked last night. By one of your trolls.”

  “No, you weren’t. None of my trolls were allowed off the Knoll last night. Everyone was in by curfew.” Curfew being eight p.m.

  “One of your trolls shot at me,” he insisted. “I have the bullet to prove it.”

  The minister looked at his three advisers — Winken, Blinken, and Odd. Not their real names, but that’s what they reminded Samuel of. Smaller than the minister, they exchanged angry glances.

  Off to the side were Tweedledee and Tweedledum — Dee and Dum. Very dumb.

  He needed to tread carefully. Even the head of the Moonchuckle Bay Supernatural Squad — the secret organization to which he belonged in addition to the sheriff’s department — might not be safe with this many angry trolls surrounding him.

  Carefully, Samuel took a cloth and pulled out the silver bullet from his pocket. “He shot silver at me.”

  The beasts drew in sharp breaths. One held out his hand, and Samuel said, “I’ll need this back. It’s evidence.”

  He dropped it into the plate-sized palm. Winken examined it carefully and made rumbling sounds.

  Samuel said, “We have the troll in our custody.”

  The minister glared at him. “You will release that troll and bring him to me. I handle all punishments of trolls, per Section 183 of the Code.”

  The Code being the SCC — Supernatural Constitutional Code — that determined the legality and rights of the different beings in this area. And the Supernatural Oversight Council — or SOC — had authority over all undead, immortal, and moon-bound beings.

  “Except when Section 183 is superseded by Section 189, which states If said troll is aggressively out of control, then the supernatural authorities may have primary jurisdiction over him.”

  The four held a hurried discussion.

  Samuel thought of Amber, who’d been in danger along with him and whom he’d left with Deputy Larry Knight for her safety this morning until he returned. Amber, who he couldn’t get out of his mind, even as he stared at the huge beasts around him. In addition to the four leaders and Dee and Dum, another dozen oafs stood around the edges of the room.

  Samuel did not feel safe, but the best way to deal with trolls was to assert authority over them. It was one of the few things they respected. “It was bad enough that he attacked me, but I also had a friend with me, a young woman named Amber Newman, who could have been seriously injured. And that could have gotten your troll put to death.”

  The minster glared. “You wouldn’t have dared.”

  “It wouldn’t have been my doing, but the SOC’s. I’m grateful it didn’t come to that.” Samuel shrugged. “I can identify the troll. It’s the same one that I put in jail the day before. We need his name.”

  The four turned back to him. The minister put his hands on his compact-car-sized hips. “None of our trolls would do any such thing. They are well trained and obedient to me,” he roared.

  “You have a rogue on your hands, then. If you would take a look at his face, you can tell us with certainty that he is not one of yours.”

  “You lie!” Another roar. “No trolls would dare invade our territory!”

  Blinken stepped closer to Samuel and put out a conciliatory hand. “You must understand, wolfling, that these are serious charges. First you called us stupid. Now you call us attempted murderers. You owe us an apology.” Lowering his voice, he said, “Perhaps it will avoid bloodshed.”

  Samuel had been afraid it would come to this. He had called the stupid troll stupid, after all. He probably did owe them an apology. He was certainly sorry he’d said it aloud. He nodded. “You are correct. I was wrong in what I said. I spoke out of anger, and I regret my words. I’m sorry I offended you, and I hope you will accept my apology.”

  The Minister of Trolls narrowed his eyes. “Too little, too late, I’m afraid.”

  Samuel forced himself to bow his head, just enough to be polite but not so much he wouldn’t see an attack if it came. “I would like to make amends, Great One.”

  “You have insulted our intelligence and now you insult our integrity. We will be coming to town in three days. At the full moon.”

  Samuel stared. Did he just declare war? Seriously? He had to talk fast to turn this around. “The SOC will not condone a war. And the other beings will support our side.” He scrambled to placate — and warn — at the same time. “That is because your people are physically superior to ours. We cannot defea
t your warriors unless we group together.”

  The four moved away and conferred again, with many gesticulations.

  Finally, they motioned for him to come to them.

  He did, quickly and respectfully.

  “We have decided we will accept your apology, lacking in finesse though it was.” Then the huge creature pointed toward the exit. “I will only guarantee your safety for the next three minutes. I suggest you leave while you still can.”

  It had taken four minutes to walk from the boundary wall.

  He ran, not wanting to change into his wolf unless absolutely necessary.

  Sitting across the Beans and Boos booth from Chicory, with Larry keeping watch from a nearby table, Amber asked, “So what is the Werewolf Diet, anyway? I saw the poster on the Diet Center.”

  Chicory waved a hand dismissively. “People fast intermittently depending on the phases of the moon.”

  “Weird. Do you suppose it works?”

  “The only thing that makes sense about this diet is that if you have a very full moon, you may need to trim down."

  Amber laughed. “Yeah.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out a paper bag, which she unfolded. She handed Chicory a high-quality reprint of a special photo.

  The other woman studied it and then studied Amber’s face. “This is Samuel, but who are the other men? Someone in this photo means a great deal to you. I feel that.”

  “You’re very perceptive,” Amber admitted.

  “Wait. This one looks a little like you.”

  “That’s my twin brother with his army buddies. Samuel was one of them.” She breathed in deeply before continuing. “Adam died last year. In Afghanistan.”

  “Ahh. That would be the buddy that Samuel once mentioned to me.”

  Amber pulled a Wild Things Gift Shop bag from her backpack. “Here’s the frame I found to put it in.”

  Chicory touched the frame, and ran her finger along the faux dog tags around the left side. “That’s perfect.” With a nod, she handed back the photo.