by Ruth Vincent
“I understand how grievous things are, but please, don’t do anything rash that could ultimately hurt your own people as much as it hurts the fairies. The Vale is in a very delicate state right now. If our land gets destroyed, you lose your forests to run in, just like we lose our House Trees. It would be the end of the fairies and the werewolves both.”
Obadiah smiled at me; he thought I’d spoken well.
The Alpha smiled too, but I didn’t think it was to acknowledge the rationality of the point I’d just made. There was something sly in the way he grinned, showing one yellow canine. He was just pausing before dropping the inevitable bomb.
“I have considered this,” he said slowly. “There is an alternative. I know we can’t blame every regular fairy for the crimes of their Queen. I’m sure there’s plenty of fairies that just want to live in their tree houses and pick flowers or whatever the hell your kind do. There’s one thing that would eliminate the problem without going to war.”
“Yes?” I said.
“We have a coup and we kill this Fairy Queen.”
An image of my mother’s face flashed before my mind, and a tenderness I didn’t know I felt for her welled up in me, stinging my eyes. I understood why they hated her. Sometimes I did too. The Queen had committed horrible crimes; there were things I’d never forgive her for. But she was my mother, and she was doing the best she could. I wasn’t going to let them kill her. She’d promised me she’d stop kidnapping the children. She was open to reason. She didn’t deserve to die.
“No, please, you need to reconsider,” I started to say, but my voice was lost in the din of cheering werewolves. I could tell by the look in the Alpha’s eyes that my appeals were not working.
“Why are you on her side anyway?” the Alpha asked me. “Rumor I heard was that she castrated your magic powers and shunted you off to the human world. Don’t know if I’d be so quick to defend someone who did that to me,” he said.
I bit my lip, stifling the anger that flared at his words. “I know what she did. And why she did it,” I said quietly, realizing this Wolfman Alpha could have very well been among the assassins that my mother had put me in the human world to protect me from.
“If the current Queen is out of the picture, though,” mused the Alpha, “we’d be willing to work with you. We have no interest in ending the fairies’ line; we just want our streams back, to protect our way of life. We could make a new treaty, you and I.”
He thought I actually wanted to be the next Fairy Queen—as if I cared about power like that, as if I was like him.
“She’s my mother,” I said flatly. “And I’m not going to let you kill her over a groundless accusation. You have no proof that the Queen is behind what’s been happening to your pack.”
As if to demonstrate evidence of proof, Blake gave an anguished howl, followed by a crash and a string of muffled curses from Reuben. The Alpha shot me a satisfied look, crossing his arms over his chest.
Obadiah spoke up, trying a different tactic. “The Queen is aware your packs hate her. Her security is insane. You’d never get into the palace.”
“Ah,” said the Alpha, grinning, “but that’s where you’re wrong. The rules of the game have changed now. Now we’ve got a member in our pack who can be in full werewolf form outside of the moon. The Queen’s not expecting that. She thinks she’s safe from any Wolfmen threat till the next full moon. So do her guards. A Wolfman with the full strength of his powers will rip right through whatever defenses they’ve got set up. They won’t even know what hit ’em.”
What he was saying was terrifying, because I could easily see it being true. It would be the ultimate surprise attack. The Queen would never expect a fully grown Werewolf to be able to storm into her palace at any time, no longer restricted by the moon’s phases. The drought had weakened the once-immortal Fey. They really could kill her.
I had to do something to stop this.
“Please don’t act on this yet,” I said, looking up pleadingly into the hard-set eyes of the enormous Alpha. “Let me talk to her. Let me see if she’s actually behind this. Let us see if there’s something we can do.”
“Why the hell should I wait around for that? My boys are ready to end this immediately.”
I stared up at the Alpha, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. His posture was grim, uncompromising, but the expression in his eyes gave me pause. There was fear there, and it was just the crack in the door I was searching for.
Standing up on my tiptoes, I whispered in his ear.
“I know you can’t compromise in front of your pack. But please consider: a war with the fairies will decimate you, just like it will decimate us. It won’t bring back the Elixir; all it will do is decrease your numbers in the slaughter. And that’s the very thing the Fairy Queen would want.”
I pulled away from him. His jaw was still clenched in anger, but I saw a brief flicker of understanding in his eyes; he knew I was right.
“You’ve got until the next full moon to make our streams come back. Beyond that, I make no promises,” he growled at me, too low for anyone else to hear, and then sauntered off to join the rest of his pack.
I walked over to Obadiah, who gestured for me to take a seat at one of the empty tables by the side of the bar.
“He gave us till the next full moon,” I said to Obadiah. “I can’t let them kill her.”
“No, you can’t. We’ll figure out a way to stop this. They’re all riled up and hotheaded right now. They’ll calm down.”
“Not if the same thing starts happening to more of their pack.”
“Do you think your mom might be behind it?” he asked, his voice low. “I mean, between you and me?”
I sighed. “I have no idea. I wouldn’t put it past her. I know she’s desperate for any source of Elixir. And I did make her promise she wouldn’t take it out of any more kids.”
Oh crap, the promise I’d made her make to me—was this its unintended consequence? She wasn’t kidnapping children and extracting Elixir from them anymore, so she’d begun stealing from the Wolfmen’s streams? She had to get it from somewhere, or the fairies would die. I put my head in my hands. It was looking more and more likely that my mother was really at fault here. I supposed taking away a fully grown man’s ability to turn into a werewolf was a lot more ethical than stealing the life energy of kids. Though that probably made no difference to the werewolves.
I rubbed my brow. The whole thing was a mess. And if I didn’t do something, they were definitely going to kill my mother.
As we sat there in silence, our hands interlocked across the table, we heard another howl, scream and crash from the upstairs room, an auditory reminder of how bad things still were.
“I need to go up there,” Obadiah said.
“Why isn’t their Alpha in there right now? Why is poor Reuben having to deal with this?”
“Because Reuben’s their wolf-whisperer,” Obadiah said. “It’s his role in the pack to keep a rogue Werewolf calm. He’s been trained for it.”
“It doesn’t sound like he’s doing a very good job,” I said as the sound of another crash came from the storeroom.
“These are extraordinary circumstances. The Alpha can’t leave the rest of the pack alone, even for a few minutes. He needs to watch over the group, keep them calm. Believe me, that’s a big job in and of itself. I know the crowd probably seems pretty rowdy to you right now, but trust me, he’s keeping them under control. If he wasn’t there, they’d be rioting and killing.”
But fear crystalized in my gut. “I know you need to check on the back room. But he’s in full Were form. He could hurt you.”
“Blake won’t hurt me. He was always a nice kid.”
“He may have been a nice kid, but now he’s a werewolf,” I protested. “Let Reuben handle him.” But I wasn’t sure if Reuben could get control of him. Was it even possible to control a full-on werewolf?
“I’ll wear body armor,” he said, clearly hearing the worry in my thoughts and tr
ying to mollify it. “Reuben lent me an extra set. We’re roughly the same size. I’ve got it behind the bar.”
Obadiah walked over behind the gleaming marble counter and picked up a large cardboard box. He began taking the pieces out and showing them to me as he put them on. I guess he thought it would ease my mind, but it was only making me more nervous. There was a hulking black vest-like thing that covered the whole torso and would protect all the vital organs, and long protectors for the limbs that were attached with strips of Velcro. There was a black helmet too.
I frowned. “Do they have a suit that’s my size? I’d like to come with you.”
“Mab, I appreciate the support, but no, they don’t. One, I don’t think there are any four-foot-eleven Wolfmen,” he said. “And two, I could never put you in harm’s way like that.”
“But you’d put yourself in harm’s way?” I countered.
“I’ll be fine. I’m just going in there to check on him, then I’ll come right back out. Reuben is doing the long-term babysitting.”
I sighed, but I could tell I wasn’t going to change his mind.
“Let me walk with you up the stairs at least. I want to be able to hear what’s going on in there. If I hear you scream, I’ll run and get their Alpha.”
Obadiah tapped on the eyes of the carved wooden gargoyle in the back of the bar to unlock the secret door.
“If you insist,” he said. “But whatever you do, do not open the door to the back room.”
“Right,” I said.
I opened my arms and pressed him to me, reaching up to kiss him hard on the mouth. “Please be careful,” I said. “Promise?”
“I promise,” he whispered.
And then he opened the door to the room and closed it quickly behind him.
I stood outside the closed door.
This close up, I could hear the terrified squeaking and squawking of the animal familiars in their cages. Poor things—the bars were probably protecting them, but I bet the werewolf had been trying to eat them.
I heard Reuben’s voice call out.
“Boss, you shouldn’t be in here. It’s not safe.”
“Relax, I’ve got body armor on. How is he?” Obadiah replied.
There was a low growl from the Were.
“Not good,” said Reuben. “I can’t seem to calm him down. He’s just so scared.”
“Understood. Oh boy . . .” Obadiah’s voice trailed off. I could only assume he was surveying the level of damage the frightened Werewolf had caused. I pressed my ear to the door to be able to hear what he said next.
“It’s like a tornado ripped through here.”
“You okay, boss?” I heard Reuben ask.
“I’ll be fine,” said Obadiah, though his voice didn’t sound fine. “It’s just shock.”
And then there was a terrifying, guttural howl from the werewolf. And then a thud.
My heart stopped.
“Boss?” I heard Reuben cry out. “Boss? Obadiah?”
My fingers itched for the door handle, but I stopped myself, hearing Obadiah’s words in my mind: Whatever you do, do not open the door.
“Boss, are you okay? Obadiah, talk to me, say something!”
“Reuben,” I shouted through the door, praying he could hear me. “I’m right outside. What did the werewolf do? Should I get the Alpha? Should I call 911?”
“Mab,” Reuben called back, “I don’t know. It wasn’t Blake. Blake’s over there on the other side of the room by the birdcages. He didn’t touch him, I swear it. Obadiah just collapsed, on his own. Say something to me, Obadiah, say something,” he begged.
I couldn’t help it. I just couldn’t.
I threw open the door.
The scene of chaos and destruction took my breath away. It did indeed look like the scene of a natural disaster. There was broken glass everywhere. Shelves had been ripped out of the floor and torn to splinters, their contents strewn all over. And there was blood smeared on the floor, on the bar top, on the walls.
Obadiah was lying on the floor.
I rushed over to him. He wasn’t moving.
“Obadiah!”
“Mab, no,” Reuben screamed.
The werewolf was lunging for me. His eyes glowed a bloodthirsty red.
Reuben caught him in a tackle, pinning him down.
“Mab, I can’t hold him like this very long. You have to get out of here.”
“What happened to Obadiah? What’s all this blood? If that thing did this . . .”
“It’s not his blood,” Reuben was shouting, wrestling with the salivating werewolf. “Blake got into the Sanguinari’s snack packs. He broke their vials of animal blood and smeared it all over the place.”
Obadiah wasn’t injured? But he also wasn’t moving. Was he breathing?
I pressed my face close to his. I could feel the gentle warmth of his breath coming in and out. He was alive.
“What happened to him?”
“I don’t know. He was really pale and then he just hit the ground. You’ve got to get out of here. I can’t hold Blake back much longer.”
I linked my arms under Obadiah’s shoulders and began to drag his limp body out into the hall. It was slow going. He was even heavier with all that body armor. But inch by inch we got there.
I shut the door behind us, collapsing onto the floor next to Obadiah, breathing hard.
I reached in my pocket for my phone to call an ambulance, horrible flashbacks of the last time we’d had to call 911 from this club running through my mind.
As I started to enter the numbers, I looked down at Obadiah.
His eyes had opened.
“Mab?” he gasped softly.
“You’re awake. I’m calling 911.”
“Don’t.” He touched my hand.
“Of course I should. What just happened in there? Something happened. You’re not okay.”
“I’m fine,” he said weakly, and I shot him a look.
“You’re not fine.”
“I’m fine,” he repeated. “I just blacked out. It’s rather embarrassing.” He frowned.
“It’s the Elixir sickness,” I said, my voice shaking. “It made you black out.”
“Nah, it’s not that. Probably just the shock of seeing all the damage to the store.”
The sight of that devastation would’ve been enough to fell anyone, but it wasn’t just that.
“I’m so sorry about what he did to your place,” I said.
But Obadiah waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t think about it. I’m trying not to. That’s what insurance is for.” He smiled wanly.
“You don’t have insurance, though, do you?”
“Trifle difficult to fill out paperwork when your birth certificate says 1708.” He laughed, a high-pitched strangled snorting noise that showed me he really was in shock.
“Don’t worry,” he said with false lightness, “I can always get a loan from the Sanguinari mafia.”
“You will not borrow money from them,” I said, aghast. “Do you know what they do to anyone who doesn’t pay on time? Now come on, let’s get you downstairs, and I’m going to call the paramedics.”
Obadiah shook his head from where he lay across the floor of the landing. “Don’t call anyone. I’m fine.”
“Did the werewolf bite you, even a scratch? We should get it checked out. What if that thing had tetanus or rabies or something?”
“Blake didn’t hurt me. And don’t call the paramedics. They’re not going to be able to do anything.”
“But . . .”
“What are we going to say when they ask what happened? Tell them there was a werewolf, that there is a werewolf, loose above the club? I don’t think that would go over well.”
I nodded, glumly acknowledging that he was right.
“I still want you to get checked out by a doctor, though. We don’t have to tell them the werewolf part of the story.”
“A doctor can’t fix what’s wrong with me.”
I put my h
ead in my hands, because I knew he was right. It reminded me of Quinn, that despair in her voice when she’d said no professional could help her, and I’d wanted so badly to contradict her but knew I’d be lying.
What was wrong with Obadiah was Elixir sickness.
The first symptom of the Thirst was shaking. The second was weakness.
“Oh god,” I said, barely breathing.
“I’m fine,” he said again, sitting up, as if to show me he was okay.
“No,” I whispered. “You’re not fine. The Thirst is progressing.”
Chapter 7
Reggie closed the office early the Friday before Labor Day, and I decided to take the train out with Obadiah and have dinner with my folks in Grover Heights, New Jersey. I had planned to spend the whole holiday weekend with them, but I couldn’t if I was going to use it to go back and check out the situation in the Vale, so this was my compromise. I had told Obadiah he didn’t have to come. He was still dealing with the werewolf, and the overwhelming cleanup of his upstairs storeroom, and though he insisted he didn’t need my help, that the werewolf clan was pitching in to assist him, I still felt bad. But it wasn’t just that. Part of me was afraid to face a family dinner at my parents’ house with Obadiah’s hands potentially shaking under the table. It would just get my parents worried, and they couldn’t even know the real cause.
It wasn’t the first time Obadiah had met my parents. That had happened months before, and hadn’t been nearly as nerve-wracking as I anticipated. After eight months of dating, my folks had accepted Obadiah as a part of my life now. My mom had started referring to our visits as “the kids are coming to stay,” as if Obadiah was now their other grown-up child. I think they liked him. Sometimes my dad made a crack about how much older than me Obadiah was, and I always flushed with shame at the half joke. They thought Obadiah was thirty-three to my twenty-three. They didn’t know he was really three hundred and eight. But ultimately, I could see in my parents’ eyes that they saw Obadiah made me happy, and that touched me. I wished my other mother, the Fairy Queen, could understand that.
My parents met us at the train station in Grover Heights.
As we joined them in their aging Toyota, it occurred to me how much older my parents looked. It had been less than three months since I’d seen them last, so it wasn’t that. It was a subtle, almost imperceptible shift. My hands noted how my father felt a little frailer as I hugged him. My mom’s voice was bubbly and cheerful as she took my hand, but her eyes seemed tired. I felt bad about how little I’d visited lately.