4.0 - Howl Of The Fettered Wolf

by Krista Walsh

  Cursing, Humphrey followed, his hands covering his nose as blood oozed between his fingers.

  The Colcex demon shoved Vera down the stairs, and she pointed toward the staff room. “There.”

  Rega said nothing. He reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped in front her. A flash of metal caught the reflection of the streetlight, and Vera flinched.

  Gently, as light as a lover’s caress, he set the blade against her bare shoulder where her shirt had torn at the sleeve. With a slow, smooth motion, he dipped the edge of the knife beneath her skin and peeled back a strip of flesh.

  Vera cried out and fought to get away, but the Colcex demon was too strong. Pushing back the ancient power had already reduced her supernatural strength, and the fight upstairs had drained her even further. Vera felt herself panicking as she realized her resources were failing. She needed her plan to succeed.

  Gabe.

  “Don’t lie to me. We checked that room yesterday. You wouldn’t leave such a precious item out in the open for the world to see.”

  “I swear,” she gasped. “There’s a second safe, hidden behind the painting of the bookstore. It’s right there. I promise.”

  She hated herself for begging, for the reek of terror that oozed from her pores, and yet deep down, too far down to reach if she tried, she felt a flicker of pride. No matter what they did to her, she would not tell them where the original book was hiding. Let them torture her and cut her into pieces. Her life was not worth more than her oath.

  Rega sliced another strip of flesh from her arm, and this time she couldn’t stop herself from releasing a sharp scream at the pain.

  “Humphrey, go see if the lady’s telling the truth.”

  Still holding his nose, the warlock stomped over to the staff room and pulled the painting forward.

  “There’s a safe here.”

  “Open it,” Rega ordered.

  Grunting, Humphrey used his magic to release the two combination locks. The ease with which he worked around the magical enchantments covering the locks astounded Vera. No one should have been able to do that. When he pulled his hands away from his face to cast the spell, the bend in his nose helped her detach from her surprise. At least she’d gotten one good shot at him.

  Rega walked over to stand behind Humphrey, and the Colcex demon dragged Vera after him. Each movement tore at her shoulder, making her stomach churn. Black spots danced in her vision, and she fought to stay conscious. She didn’t trust what Rega would do to wake her up if she passed out. Or worse, what he would allow the Colcex demon to do.

  She listened for the tell-tale sounds of the safe being opened, then heard the thumps of the first editions on top of the cloth hitting the floor, followed by a grunt.

  “She’s telling the truth. There’s a book here that matches the description.”

  Rega stepped forward to look. Vera held her breath. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing, not only to stay conscious but to prevent panic from overwhelming her. If they didn’t fall for it, they would kill her, she had no doubt about that. They might kill her anyway, but at least if they believed the book was real, they would walk out thinking they’d won. The genuine text would fall into Ara’s possession to keep safe. Guilt filled Vera that she would be leaving her friend with the burden of keeping it hidden, but at least it would be in good hands.

  She opened her eyes as Rega approached her, holding the book out in front of him. He tapped the tome into the palm of his other hand and stared down his nose.

  “You expect me to believe you just threw your most valuable item in here with your money?”

  He nodded to Humphrey, who delivered a blow into Vera’s stomach. His strength was nothing compared to Rega’s, but in her state it was enough to make her gasp.

  “Yes,” she panted. “You — you hadn’t found this safe. I thought —” She had to stop to catch her breath, and Humphrey hit her again, this time in the face. Blood gushed from her nose, but the bone didn’t snap.

  “Spit it out,” Rega commanded.

  “I thought you would be too focused on checking the restricted section to look too closely in here.”

  The room grew darker in the corners of her vision, and she fought harder to stay awake. She had to convince him. Anything could happen after that, but she had to make him believe.

  “It’s an old text,” she wheezed. “It needs special conditions to be maintained. I couldn’t” — a stop for breath — “couldn’t hide it anywhere with too much air or light.”

  Rega handed the book to Humphrey. “You think it’s genuine?”

  The warlock’s eyes widened, and his hands trembled as he took the book. He tipped the pages into the dim light coming through the window from the street. Rega rolled his eyes, then marched to the light switch and flipped it on. Vera winced at the sudden glare and turned her face away, but once her eyes adjusted, she made herself watch.

  Humphrey flipped through the pages. He pressed his finger against the ink and checked the binding.

  “It all looks accurate to the age of the book. I think she’s telling the truth. Would she even dare to lie in the condition she’s in?”

  Rega sniffed. “There’s only one way to check.”

  The knife came out again, and Vera began screaming before the edge hit her skin. He peeled back another piece of flesh, and she shouted over and over, “It’s real. Please gods, believe me, it’s the real book.”

  At an unspoken signal, the Colcex demon dumped her to the ground, and she sagged into a ball, all of her muscles screaming as her blood boiled. Rega rolled her onto her back with his foot and pressed his boot into her chest.

  She met his gaze and dragged deep breaths through her ruined lungs.

  “You’re lucky I was ordered to keep you alive. I would have had fun with you. But all hands are needed for what’s coming. Enjoy what time you have left.”

  Ordered? The blood rushed out of Vera’s face as the weight of the revelation hit her. Rega was not the leader of these thieves.

  Rega gave her no extra time to process what she’d learned. He kicked the side of her head, and her cheek slammed against the floorboards. Humphrey’s curses and the Colcex demon’s wheezing laughter trailed after them as Rega led them out of the shop. The bell tinkled as the door slammed shut behind them.

  ***

  Vera lay bleeding on the floor waiting for unconsciousness to claim her. To her regret, the dark spots in her vision receded. She remained curled on her side, her knees to her chin, waiting for the agony to subside so she could find a way to get to her feet.

  Wave after wave of fire spread through her body as the Colcex demon’s poison worked through her, and the bleeding strips on her arm screamed at the touch of her tattered shirt sleeve. Her nose throbbed where Humphrey had thrown his ineffectual punch.

  Gradually, her squeezed lungs released their hold. Taking deep breaths still shot pain through her back, but she was able to slow her breathing into a steady pattern that settled her queasy stomach.

  When the first hints of light shone outside, Vera eased herself onto her good arm. She swallowed a scream at the pain from the bite in her shoulder and cradled her other arm against her chest. She crawled out of the staff room toward the stairs, aiming to get up to her apartment, but her arms gave out as she tried to start up, and she slumped like a rag doll against the side of the staircase.

  They had taken the fake book.

  In the midst of her pain, a laugh bubbled up inside her, and the sound trickled through her cracked lips to fill the empty silence of the shop.

  Even without Gabe, she had outsmarted and outlasted them. As soon as she found the strength, she would tell Fendal the real book had been stolen — the state of her body would stand as testament to the efforts she had put in to prevent it — then hide the original somewhere they would never find it. She was done.

  The knowledge that she had won the first part of the battle soothed the heat of her injuries, and she suffered them willingly a
s she faced the front door and waited for Gabe to arrive. She still felt certain that he would show. Then she could assure him that the plan had worked and that their business dealings were done.

  The gray light of dawn spilled through the bay window and blanketed the front chairs with its drowsy hues.

  The street in front of the shop remained empty.

  Every moment, Vera expected to see a golden light spill through the darkness of the shop, or maybe a dark car to drive up and three tall, gaunt nightmares arrive to ensure the book was safe, but no one came. As the sun peeked over the top of the shops across the street, she spotted the employees arriving to begin their morning routines, and still neither Gabe nor the Collegiate appeared.

  Her eyelids sagged shut, and she allowed her chin to drop to her chest, but sleep refused to come.

  The bell above the door jangled, and Vera’s pounding heart leaped into her throat. Her first thought was that Gabe had finally arrived, in a panic because his rifts had failed him, or that the Collegiate had come to check on the book and apologize for not keeping a closer eye on Rega.

  Her second thought was that Rega had returned — that he’d already discovered the ruse and was here for his next attack, to finish peeling away her flesh until she confessed the location of the real text. She steeled herself against what might happen. It didn’t matter what they did to her; she would not give in. She tried to sit up straighter against the staircase, but couldn’t bring herself to move through the pain.

  Then the door opened, and the only person to step inside was Ara. At the sight of her, Vera’s felt so much relief that her strength gave out, and she collapsed against the stairs.

  She heard Ara’s exclamation of alarm, but she couldn’t decipher one word from another. As the blackness took her, her spirit felt lighter than it had in weeks. She hadn’t failed. No matter what else happened, she’d kept her word.

  16

  Vera woke to the sting of something pressing on her arm, and she sensed the Colcex demon’s boil-covered face leaning over it.

  With a cry, she jerked her arm away and sat up.

  Ara was staring down at her with wide eyes, an alcohol swab pinched between her fingers.

  On recognizing her, Vera released a breath and sagged back, surprised to find herself supported by the rough fabric of the shop’s loveseat.

  “Did you move me?” she asked, and the words came out as a croak.

  Ara grinned, the warmth of her smile chasing away some of Vera’s nightmares about the last rough faces she’d seen. “You may be strong, but you weigh nothing at all. I figured if you were going to get some rest, you’d rather not wake up with a sore neck.” Her smile faded into a grimace. “I can’t make the same guarantee about the rest of you. I was going to call Gabe and have him come help me” — Vera tensed again, a cry of protest ready on her lips — “but considering he’s not here already, I figured you wouldn’t want me to do that. I was still outside when he left, so I know it didn’t end well. I’m sorry.”

  Her brow furrowed as she resumed her attention on Vera’s cuts.

  “I don’t understand why he didn’t show,” Vera said, staring intently at her shoes to avoid looking at the damage Rega had done.

  “I don’t know, but at this point he’d better be glad he’s not here,” Ara said. She stopped, though Vera sensed there was more she wanted to say. It only took a moment for the rest to spill out. “You had a plan, you relied on that plan, and he left you to fend for yourself. If he shows his face in this shop today, you can be sure I’m going to have a word with him. What was he thinking? You could have died. They could have —”

  The green veins under her skin had darkened as she was speaking, her eyes glinting silver. Only when she cut herself off and breathed through her anger did the signs of her dryad blood fade.

  She returned to the task of cleaning out Vera’s skinned arm, and Vera allowed her tears to fall, hoping her friend blamed them on the pain of her physical injuries and not on the memory of the emotional turmoil she’d endured over the last few hours. She knew she should be putting on a braver face, but she didn’t have it in her to try.

  She clenched her teeth together and swallowed the discomfort of the alcohol chasing after the poison in her blood.

  “The damage is bad, but you’ll survive,” Ara said. “Was it Rega?”

  Vera nodded.

  “Did he take the book?”

  Again Vera nodded, and this time the women shared a smile.

  “Good,” Ara said, and finished binding Vera’s arm.

  Vera raised her other arm to check the state of her shoulder and winced at the sight of the burned flesh where the Colcex demon had bitten her.

  “The bite mark looks awful,” Ara said. “The edges were already black by the time I got a look at it, but the poison seems to have worked its way out of your system. While you were out you spiked a fever, but I brought it down with an alcohol bath and it passed quickly. With any less ichor in your veins, you’d probably be dead.”

  “I know,” Vera said, and groaned as she sat up. Ara raised her hands to be ready to help her if she needed it, but she clasped her fingers around the loveseat cushion and steadied herself. A quick glance at the couch showed bloodstains where her arm had rested, and she frowned. More damage to her shop. She didn’t want to think of the mess that awaited her upstairs.

  “How long was I out?” Vera asked.

  “Most of the day,” Ara said, jerking her chin toward the window. Vera turned to look, wincing as a nerve in her neck pinched. The sun had made its way across the sky and was already beginning its descent. In a few more hours, it would be dark. Although so much time had been wasted, maybe it was for the best. Fewer eyes on the street to stare at her as she passed by.

  “I think we should get you to bed,” Ara said, as if reading her thoughts. “You’ll have a chance to change clothes while I make some tea. We could both use a cup.” She looked around the shop. “And I guess we may as well take our time. It’s not as if we’re opening tomorrow.”

  Vera’s eyes stung with a fresh rise of tears, but she swallowed them down before they had a chance to fall. It was not a failure if they had to close work for a couple of days. She knew that Ara would be able to pick things up after she left as if the interruption had never happened.

  “It’s probably a good idea. You’ll have to sort through the books on the floor and determine which ones can be salvaged.”

  “Me?” Ara asked. Vera only stared at her in reply, and her friend’s eyes grew wide. “You can’t still be thinking about leaving. Especially not right now, when you can barely carry your own weight.”

  To prove her wrong, Vera rose to her feet and shuffled toward the stairs. The effect lost some of its potency when she had to pause against the counter to catch her breath, but she refused to be seen as weak or incapable.

  “Vera, think about this.” Ara followed close behind her. “You need to be able to go unnoticed and move fast. Right now, everyone would be staring at you and wondering how you’re walking around at all in the state you’re in. You wouldn’t make it to New Haven’s city limits without half the members of the otherworld following your tracks to find out what did this to you. The book is gone, the threat is out of your hair for a little while, so why not take the time to heal?”

  “I can’t take the chance that Rega will discover the truth and come back,” Vera said. “Especially now that I’ve learned he isn’t working alone. Someone’s giving him orders.” She pushed open the door to her apartment and cringed at the fresh disaster of her living room. Both bookcases had been destroyed, and her books were scattered across the floor. The little stuffing in her couch that had survived the first round of destruction now poked out of the armrest, and her rocking chair was nothing more than splinters.

  “By the gods,” Ara gasped, looking around. Then she gave herself a shake and turned her attention back to Vera. “What about the Collegiate? Can’t they step in and hold them off while you
recover?”

  “I don’t know if they’re coming back.” Vera shoved a few books aside with the edge of her foot on the way to her bedroom. “They came to me in a dream earlier tonight, and I showed them the fake, playing up that it was the real book. I have no idea if they believed it, but I think they did. They closed the connection. They might still want it, but they have to know I’m not about to hand it over.”

  At the mention of the Collegiate, Vera paused and turned to Ara. “They told me Dad was a descendant of the guardians. Did you know that?”

  Ara’s already wide eyes opened further. “No, I had no idea of it. I swear.” Her fingers flew to her lips. “But maybe that explains everything. I was there for the demon wars. The dryads helped where we could, though we weren’t able to do much to push the demons back. I remember the day we were told the guardians had fallen. We were devastated. A handful managed to escape, but they were hunted down. Anyone with a trace of guardian blood went into hiding to avoid the same fate. If Gregory — if you are part of that bloodline, he would have wanted the secret to die with him. For your own safety. That must be why he never told you the truth about the book.”

  Vera stared at Ara, too dazed to focus, too confused and battered to form a sensible reaction. “I guess his plan didn’t really work out as he expected, did it?” she said in the end, offering the best smile she could manage.

  Ara tried to return it, then turned her attention to the books on the floor. Unable to let them lie there, she bent over to pick up the strewn-about copies. Vera left her to it and went to her closet. She longed for a shower, but didn’t want to suffer the pain of water striking her open wounds. For now, fresh clothes would have to suffice.

  “If it’s down to us versus Rega, then I need to act as though he’s going to discover the truth sooner rather than later,” she called back to Ara as she stripped off her ruined shirt. She tossed it directly into the trash and grabbed a pink tank top and gray knit sweater. They were loose enough that they wouldn’t press on her skin, but would still hide the dressings from curious eyes. “If he knows it’s a fake, I doubt he’ll show any mercy to find the original.” Vera pulled the shirt over her head and eased the sweater over her shoulders, then released a breath and propped her good shoulder against the wall. It took her a moment to find her energy. Once she did, she stepped into the living room. “The sooner I leave, the harder it’ll be for him to track me down.”