Lupine Howl: The Complete First Series (All 8 books)

by Amy Cross

  "Have you never seen a mermaid before?" she asks.

  I shake my head. I've seen werewolves, I've seen all sorts of stuff recently, but this really, really takes my breath away. It's like I'm in some kind of HR Giger fairytale.

  "It's okay," she says. "I'm used to this reaction. My name is Mena". She reaches out a hand for me to shake, but she sees that I'm cautious and she smiles. "It's okay," she says, her arm still outstretched. "You can shake my hand. I won't bite".

  I look at the hand, and I remember that the sign said not to touch the 'creature', and I remember the ripped skin of that worker earlier.

  "Okay," Mena says, putting her arm back down. "I understand. You're right to be cautious around here. Almost everyone is dangerous in some way". She fixes me with a stare. "I just want you to know, I was only going to shake your hand. I wouldn't have done anything to you. Look at me. Do you really think I could hurt anyone?"

  "No," I say quietly, trying to be polite. But the truth is, I really wouldn't fancy being in that water with her. There's something about her, she's so beautiful and so friendly, it's slightly suspicious. "I'm sorry," I say, "I just never expected to meet a real, actual mermaid".

  "Certainly not in a carnival in the south of England," she says.

  "Not anywhere," I say. "It's like... I didn't think you existed".

  "That's ironic," she says, grinning, "coming from a werewolf".

  "Hey," I say, "I'm not a -" but then I pause and realise she's right. "Fair point," I continue. "But still, next you'll be telling me that vampires and fairies and goblins are real".

  "Well," says Mena, smiling. "I don't know about fairies, but I've met a few goblins. And don't talk to me about vampires. There's only one left in the whole world now. The rest of them died, and there's just one. He's so lonely, but he's a real heart-breaker. His name's Patrick, I haven't seen him for years. Let's just say..." She smiles. "Let's just say he wasn't afraid to get into my tank with me".

  "Okay," I say, struggling to take everything in. "How the fuck did you end up here?"

  She frowns. "Would you mind not swearing?" she asks. "I'm an old-fashioned kind of girl".

  I nod. "Sorry".

  She smiles again. "I imagine I came here the same way that you did. I was captured by Vigrous Grinde. He heard I was to be found off the coast of Ireland, and he sent ships with huge nets to trawl for me". Her smile fades as she seems to be remembering something traumatic. "He caught and killed so many fish, so many other creatures, but he didn't care. All he wanted was me. And finally I knew that he wouldn't stop killing until he had me. So, to save all the other creatures in the ocean, I swam into his nets". She gives a fake little smile. "And I've been here ever since".

  "He's a monster," I say.

  "You've got that right," she replies, briefly raising the tip of her tail out of the water before splashing it down, spraying me with water. She laughs. "Sorry," she says, barely able to contain her amusement. "I don't get much fun around here".

  "It's okay," I say, wiping myself down. I'm not very wet anyway.

  "Vigrous Grinde says such awful things about me," Mena continues. "He tells people I'm evil, that I'm a killer, that I'm dangerous, because he wants them to fear me. He wants the audience to keep paying to see me, so he needs me to have a reputation. It's okay, I understand why he does it, but it makes me very lonely".

  "I saw a man earlier," I say. "He was bleeding to death outside after he'd been in here with you".

  "No," Mena says, shaking her head, looking upset. "I didn't hurt him. I've never hurt anyone. Grinde kills the men and tells the others that it was me. It's part of his plan to make me seem like a monster. The truth is, I would dearly love to have someone to talk to, but everyone's so scared to come up here. The men just throw my food into the water and scurry away. You're the first person I've talked to properly for many, many years".

  "Sorry," I say, still not sure whether I believe her.

  "Don't be," she replies. "You're right to be cautious. You're right to be careful around here. There are such creatures in this carnival. Werewolves and goblins and ghostmen and Tenderlings. And me". She looks sad now, as if her own heart is breaking. "If I had legs, like you have, I'd run. I'd run as far as possible, and I wouldn't stop running until I was sure that Vigrous Grinde could never catch me again".

  "It's not that easy," I say. "He's put something in me. If I try to run, it hurts".

  "In your neck?" she asks, suddenly seeming very interested. "I've seen those before. They're horrible, but they can be removed. Have you tried?"

  "I can't... No," I say. "How do you get them out?"

  "You just have to cut and then twist them out. I can..." She pauses, seemingly uncomfortable for a moment. "I know how to do it, but you'd have to come closer. I promise I can get it out, though. I've done it before. For another werewolf who was here, I helped him escape. He said he'd come back for me, but he never did".

  "What was his name?" I ask. "Was it Duncan?"

  "No," she says, "His name was Hamish. But I did meet a werewolf named Duncan once. A beautiful, proud creature who was on his way to London. He and Hamish and Patrick were friends for a while. Do you know Duncan?"

  "Yeah," I say. "Well, I did. He vanished, I don't know where he is now".

  "Did he escape from his master?" Mena asks.

  "His master?" I suddenly remember all those times that Duncan spoke about having a master, about not being free. Is it possible that the reason he didn't come to find me is something to do with his master? If it is, I have to go back to London and find them, I have to set Duncan free forever.

  "I know you don't trust me," Mena says. "But I promise you, just come closer and I can get that thing out of your neck. It'll hurt a little, but..." She leans back, arching her back a little to make her breasts more prominent. "I have ways to help the pain go away".

  I desperately need to get this implant out of my neck. I can't get away from this place while it's still there. But I still don't quite trust Mena. I feel so bad saying that, because she seems so nice. But I know that I can't trust anyone around here, and I have to keep my guard up.

  "I understand," Mena says softly. "But if you ever change your mind, you know where I am".

  I nod. "I should be getting back to my tent," I say. "I need to come up with a plan".

  "Good luck," Mena says. "Thank you so much for coming to see me. You're very, very beautiful. Very beautiful indeed. If you'd ever like to come for a swim, I'm always here".

  "Thanks," I say, heading to the steps.

  "See you tonight," Mena says.

  "Tonight?" I ask, stopping and turning to her.

  "Of course," she says, smiling. "There's a show tonight. There's a show every night. The audience will be waiting. I can't wait to see you in action in the main ring for the first time. I'm sure the audience will love you".

  "I'm not going to be in any show," I say firmly.

  "Oh," she says, looking a little sad. "You have no choice. Unless you let me take that implant out of your neck, so that you can run away".

  I pause for a moment, trying to work out what to do. "I'll come back and see you again," I say, and then I run down the steps At the bottom, I stop and look at the sign again:

  CAUTION

  Do not enter the water

  Do not speak to the creature

  Do not obey the creature

  Do not touch the creature

  Do not believe the creature

  Well, at least I only broke one, maybe two, of those rules. I look down at the patch of blood again. The crazy thing is, I have no idea who I can trust around here. I head out of the tent. I have to find a way out of this whole damn place, and I have to do it without risking becoming lunch for a hungry mermaid. Not that I'm convinced that Mena is dangerous, she seemed nice, but I can't trust anyone around here. I have to go to London, and I have to find Duncan, and I have to set him free. If he's still alive...

  8

  I'm hanging by just on
e arm now. At least the bleeding from my right shoulder has stopped, though my naked body is caked in blood.

  9

  As night starts to fall, the workers finish the stage and start to pack up their tools. Food is brought in for the werewolves, but while the others fall gratefully onto the bones that have been thrown down for them, I stay sitting in the corner. I refuse to be turned into an animal, even if it means I have to go hungry. Besides, this time tomorrow I'll be out of here. I'm not sure how, yet, but I'll find a way.

  "It's good food," Darla says, looking up at me as she chews on her bone.

  "What appeals to the audience?" I ask, ignoring her comment. "What makes the audience decide to send you home?"

  "No idea," says Darla. "The audience can't be second-guessed. It's a matter of luck, and maybe showing a little courage".

  "It can't be luck," I say. "There's got to be a pattern. How many people have been saved by the audience before?"

  "One," says Darla, but at the exact same moment Stephen, who is chewing a bone nearby, laughs. "What's so funny?" Darla asks.

  "You know no-one's ever been saved," he says. "Getting picked by the audience gets you out of here, sure, but do you really think it gets you set free? What do you think the audience wants with us in the first place?"

  "Grinde wouldn't lie to us," Darla says.

  "Sure," I interrupt. "He's kidnap you, torture you, keep you prisoner and put implants in your neck. But he'd never lie to you, would he?"

  Darla clears her throat. She doesn't seem too impressed by me right now. "I'm sensing a lack of trust," she says. "Do you not like Grinde?"

  "We got off on the wrong foot," I say. "He killed my friend".

  "Grinde doesn't kill people," Darla says.

  "No? He had my friend Lacey killed when I was captured. And what about Mena and the men who keep dying?"

  "What about it?" Darla asks, looking worried.

  I smile. "Do you really think a mermaid is killing all those men? Or do you think maybe someone just wants us to believe that?"

  Darla grins. "You don't know anything about Mena. Sure, she looks cute. But she's deadly. She talks a good game, but when it comes down to it, she's like a piranha. She can skin the flesh off a man in seconds".

  "Maybe," I say.

  "Definitely," she replies. "I've seen it". She stares at me. "I'm deadly serious, Jess. Don't be fooled by her. Don't believe her for one second. I've seen people get deceived by her words, and they all end up dead. Grinde keeps her isolated for a reason". She puts a hand on my shoulder. "Promise me you won't let Mena trick you".

  "I guess," I say. I pause for a moment. "But she says she can get these off," I say, touching the implant on the back of my neck.

  "Bullshit," says Darla.

  "No," I say. "She says she can do it. She says she did it before, for someone else, and he escaped. She said -"

  "Total bullshit," Darla says, sounding angry. "No-one has ever escaped. If Mena said that, it's just because she wants to get you close enough so she can strike. She's smart. She knows what you want, and she offers it to you. But the fucking price is too high, okay, darling? Please. I'd hate to see your pretty corpse dragged out of there, all your skin hanging from your bones like threads".

  I shake my head. "There's got to be a way out of here," I say. "There's got to be a way to get these implants out and just... run".

  Darla sighs, then she pulls up her trouser leg to reveal a huge scar on her leg, where it looks like large chunks of flesh were gouged away. "Mena did this to me," she says. "Touch it".

  I stare at the scar.

  "Touch it," Darla says, grabbing my hand and forcing me to touch the scar. "I was sent in to throw some food in to Mena. Oh, sure, she was acting all innocent and sweet, and I got persuaded, see? I stood too close to the edge, and suddenly she lashed out. I was lucky, I managed to pull back. I almost bled to death, but someone heard and came to rescue me". She pulls her trouser leg back down. "So I know all about how persuasive Mena can be. My advice to you, though, is to make sure you don't make the same mistake that I made. If you do, you might not escape with just a scar on your leg".

  There's a sudden commotion nearby. Darla and I stand up and go to watch as the workers, who have changed now into smart uniforms, gather around the door to a small tent.

  "What's going?" I whisper.

  "The audience is arriving," Darla says. "Fuck, that means the show's starting soon. We'll have to get ready".

  "What do you mean?" I ask. "Where's the audience?"

  "Coming now," says Darla.

  As I watch, the door to the little tent opens and a young boy, looking like he's only about ten or eleven years old, walks out. He has a dark, sombre look on his face, and he walks slowly and carefully.

  "Who's that?" I whisper.

  "I told you," says Darla. "The audience".

  I shake my head. "That kid is the audience?" I ask. "The whole fucking audience is just one kid?"

  Darla nods. "That's about the shape of it," she says. "The same audience every night. The same... dark little expression on his face, the same blank stare. And you know what? We perform for him every night, and he never smiles. Never claps. Never cheers. Never even reacts. He just keeps coming back, night after night. Has been for years. He's a lot older than he looks. I don't know why he's here, but he's the one who's really in charge. Vigrous Grinde works for the audience, and he knows it. Grinde is terrified of him".

  The small boy stops and turns to look directly at me. He stares at me with his totally expressionless eyes, and then he turns and carries on walking over to the main tent.

  "He's noticed you," Darla says, elbowing me in the ribs. "He likes it when there's a new creature. I don't know why. Maybe he's waiting for someone to finally do something that makes him laugh. I don't know how he can keep coming, seeing all the acts, and he never laughs. Never".

  A horn sounds. I turn to see Joe is the one who has just blown what looks like a large bugle.

  "That's the signal," says Darla, with a glint in her eye. "Showtime in half an hour. You'd better be ready".

  10

  I haven't heard him for a while. Either he has left the chamber, or he is watching me in silence. I should open my eyes and look, but I don't dare. If I were to see his face, the rage might kill me.

  Slowly, cautiously, I raise my head. I listen, but I can't hear anything. I open my eyes.

  He's standing right in front of me, staring straight into my eyes, his face just inches from mine. I have never seen such hatred boiling in another person.

  11

  Darla leads me into the big tent by the back door. It's a hive of activity inside, with people running about, getting ready for the show.

  "Disorientating, isn't it?" Darla says, smiling at my obvious discomfort. "Don't worry, it's always like this on your first night. You'll soon get the hang of it. I was in your position once. Soon you'll be the old hand showing the new arrivals around".

  "I don't plan to stick around long enough," I say, watching as a small red creature is poked with a long golden spear. The worker doing the poking looks bored, as if he's done this kind of thing many times. The creature seems angry, but can't escape because he has a manacle around his neck, with a chain linked to the ground.

  "That's a Tenderling," says Darla. "You ever heard of them?"

  I shake my head.

  "Nasty creatures," she says. "They steal your dreams and leave little black stones under your skin. If a Tenderling latches onto you, he'll suck away every emotion you have until you're a dead husk, and then he'll just move on to his next victim".

  "Nice," I say, as the worker jabs the Tenderling harder. The little red creature lets out an ear-piercing scream and cowers away, but the worker continues to poke it. "Why's he doing that to it, though?"

  "He has to get the Tenderling riled up," says Darla. "They're docile creatures by nature, they don't like confrontation. But if he's angry, he'll perform in the carnival tonight". She looks at
me and sees that I'm disgusted by the whole thing. "It's part of the routine," she says. "It's just how things have to be".

  "And what about us?" I ask, turning to her. "Are we going to be poked with sticks so that we perform?"

  Darla smiles. "Of course not. Tenderlings are dumb, they don't know what's good for them. We're smarter than that, right?" She looks at me, studying my expression. "Right, Jess? We're smarter, aren't we?" She seems to be waiting for me to reassure her.

  "We are," I say eventually. "We know what's best for us".

  "That's my girl," Darla says. "Come on, darling. I've got something to show you". She leads me around the side and we come to a large curtain, which she parts a little. "Look," she says conspiratorially, as if we're a pair of children who have snuck into the back of a theatre.

  I peer through the curtains and see a large, circular performance space, like a circus, with some small creatures putting on some kind of play-fight. The creatures are green and look like they stepped straight out of a nightmare. There are rows of seats all around. On the other side, sitting high up in the stalls, is the audience, the unsmiling little boy. He seems to be just sitting there, completely unamused by the show. He's totally impassive; I'm pretty sure you could drop a nuclear bomb right behind him, and he'd barely raise an eyebrow.

  "God, that's a bad warm-up act," says Darla. "Still, it makes us look better when we finally arrive".

  "Who is he?" I whisper to Darla, my eyes fixed on the little boy. "I mean, really, who is he? He's so... quiet".

  "We just know him as the audience," Darla whispers back to me. "I can tell you one thing, though. Vigrous Grinde is terrified of him. Absolutely terrified. Goes out of his way to make the carnival better and better each night. You should see the way he grovels and begs for praise. Not that the audience ever says anything, though he and Grinde spend hours talking in private after each show. And before you ask, no, I have no idea what they talk about. But every morning, Grinde is full of ideas about how to improve the show. Each night has to be better than the previous night".