by Mandy Rosko
The ironic thing was that Anne couldn't have landed in a safer place. He laid her back down as gently as possible, removing his shirt and folding it up to act as a pillow.
"Don't move," he said before taking off.
The second his body left the safety of the truck lights, the shadows stopped, turned their heads, and flew at him. He did a duck and roll to avoid the first onslaught and all but danced out of the way of the rest who dove for him.
"Get your keys! Turn on your lights!"
To his horror, no one picked up on his plan as quickly as Westley had. Another wolf tried leaping at one of the advancing shadows but only passed through it again. The people in the nearby cabins watched from the safety of the windows where the lights were on.
Westley had someone's pants in his mouth as he ran to one of the trucks, turned back into a man, and got inside.
Mike needed everyone to understand what he was saying. Heto show the rest of the pack what he was talking about so he backed up towards the front of that truck. "The lights hurt them! They can't get pastsed the lights! Turn on your cars!"
The shadows, no longer flying through the air like angry spirits, approached him on two legs, crouched and readied themselvesy to spring like grim reapers. Behind him, he heard the truck cough and sputter, but it didn't turn on.
"Any time now!" He yelled behind him.
Westley glared through the windshield and turned the key again but still nothing.
Mike was backed into the hood of the car, the shadows surrounded him until he was encased within them and could see nothing but darkness. A dome of pitch black. He wasn’t dead.
He tried to take in a calming breathe. With a start, he realized that he couldn't. Like a fist clutching his insides, his lungs couldn’t move. He couldn't breathe!
He pounded against the dark wall but it was like banging his fists against steel. They had him trapped!
Hadrian's face flashed before his eyes. Mike flung his fist out but punched the steel wall. He bit his lips, hard enough to spurt blood in his mouth, fighting hard to keep from screaming out the last of his air. But the punching act alone used enough air to make his lungs constrict and burn helplessly.
Mike glared at the image and felt like he was glaring at a TV screen. The coward couldn't face him in person. Hadrian's thin lips turned up in a malicious sneer as he shook his head, as though admonishing a naughty child. "This could have been so much easier."
Mike wanted to tell him where to go but couldn't. Heat flared under his skin and cotton filled his mouth. His lungs pulsed as the instinctive urge for air took over. He was going to die because the stupid truck behind him stalled.
His ears started to ring and his face swelled as his mind began to wander.
He was in the woods again, the same clearing as in the first vision with the same beautiful woman. Mike came in for a closer look. Her hair was lighter and glowed like the moon in the sky.
She kind of looked like Anne.
"Should he find us together he will certainly kill us," his double said.
A small chuckle, like the flapping of birds wings sounded. "Nay, he would only kill you. ‘Tis impossible for a mere man to end my life."
He touched a lock of her hair. "Imp, even if that man is a powerful wizard? Do ye not fear his magic could harm you?"
She leaned into his touch and kissed the palm of his hand. Though his double’s hand was large enough that she could fit the entire side of her face in it, Mike knew who was the most powerful between them.
His double seemed to force his next words to come to him. "How can ye choose me? I am but a serf with nothing to offer. He is a powerful lord. He can give you everything."
She shined her pale blue eyes at him. "A Goddess needs nothing. His trinkets and tricks neither impress nor entertain me. And you have something he does not."
His eyes flew wide. "What is it?"
She touched his chest with a delicate finger. "A good heart ... as well as mine."
An explosion of light surrounded him, freeing him, pulling him from the vision.
With long shrieks, the shadows melted off of him. Mike felt as though he'd just come up from water to take his first breath, like he’d just been born all over again.
He fell to his knees in the dirt. Coughing and inhaling through his mouth and nose. His face, hands, and feet felt swollen as he inhaled dust, but it was still oxygen and it tasted great.
Westley's voice echoed in his ears and a hand pat him on the back, proof that he stood close even though he sounded far away. "Are you alright?"
Mike waved a limp hand and wiped the wetness from his cheeks. "Fine, I'm great." God, his voice sounded like it’d had a fight with a sand blaster.
He tried getting up but the earth swirled. He grabbed the front of the truck for support and forced his legs to work for him. "Turn on your lights!" He yelled again, or tried to yell as his voice hardly raised an octave. "They can't stand the light."
Several women who witnessed the shadow’s retreat finally took the hint. They rushed out of the cabins and dropped to the ground, picking through their husbands pockets until they came up with key rings.
They ran to their vehicles with their wolf partners behind them for protection. First they would chase away the shadows, then hide out in their cabins until the sun came up.
A sharp hand slapped his back. Mike looked up and saw Westley's grinning face, the crescent on his cheek almost looked bright with the intensity of his smile. "Sorry it took so long."
Mike was relieved to see that he had bothered to put on the jeans he'd stolen as a wolf. Though, they were so big on him, he had to hold them up with one hand.
He grinned back, somehow it was almost funny now that he knew everything was going to be alright. "No problem. I'll get the keys next time."
A soft groan caught his ears, even from the distance. Mike shot his head up and saw Anne, right where he left her under the lights of the other truck some fifty feet away. She lifted her hand to her head, shifted, and sat up.
Mike sighed but then panicked when she rose unsteadily to her feet. "Don't move I'll be right there!"
He took one step out of the lights and his feet were kicked out from under him. The little air in his lungs punched out as the ground slammed against his back.
A shadow hung over his body like a dark, misty ghost, before it grabbed his legs with an eagle talon grip and towed him toward the dark woods surrounding the ranch.
He flailed his arms out. His hand caught the tire of the truck, his body jerked and spine cracked with the force of the stop.
His name was called but he was too caught up in not letting the dark spirit take him away to pay attention to who screamed it.
Mike dug his fingernails into the tire, straining the bones in his hands, as the shadow kept pulling his legs, hard enough to lift him until his body no longer touched the ground.
He tried to kick, but the hands of the shadow thing were wrapped around his ankles like duct tape. Sweat beads grew on his forehead, cheeks, and lips with the strain of holding on. His body stretched with the force of the tug. He was going to be taller when this was over with. If he lived.
Westley grabbed his arms and yanked, causing Mike to lose his grip on the truck with the force of the opposite pull. He focused the attention of his hands on Westley instead. He was now as straight as a ruler in the air.
His knees popped and he roared in pain.
He got over it fast. The dirt below him was moving which meant that, even with Westley’s strength, the shadow was dragging them both away.
Mike’s lower spine popped, like a balloon bursting in his ears. He was being torn in two.
Anne fell on them as though she’d dived to grab hold. She wrapped her arms around Mike's torso but it still wasn't enough.
The spirits gathered together and pulled at once on his legs, yanking hard, Mike's fingers slipped from their grip on Westley’s arm. He was yanked back at least a foot, stopped only from Anne’s and W
estley’s hands catching him before he disappeared into the woods.
"Help, somebody help us!" Anne screamed.
Despite the horrifying situation, Mike had a moment of sheer calm, stretched out and being pulled to the dark place where he would find his death. He looked into Anne's eyes. Wild panic sat behind them.
She couldn't be looking at him like that because he was her chance to avoid an unwanted marriage. He knew it. He could sense it. She was terrified for him. It was strangely comforting that someone could genuinely care about his wellbeing in this place.
"Let go," he said.
"What?" sShe shrieked, squeezing him tighter and digging her heals deeper into the gravel.
"Are you crazy?" Westley joined in.
Mike would do this, he wouldn't let them die for him! Twisting his head to see over his shoulder, they had mere feet to go before they were entirely outside of the reach of the lights.
The cars and trucks honked as their engines vroomed to life, their lights shined, and the people inside drove to their rescue.
They tried to, at least. They were parked too close together, everyone too eager to turn around and drive to him created a traffic jam. They weren’t going to make it to the shadows in time.
"They're dragging me off. If you don't let go they'll kill you too."
Both pairs of eyes flashed shock at him but neither let go.
They lost another two feet. Mike growled, fighting against Anne and Westley this time. Twisting his body, yanking his arms and kicking his legs, anything to jar him loose. "I said let go of me! Let go, Goddammit!"
He was half pastsed the first trees when an inhuman wail pierced the air around them.
"Chris!" Westley yelled before Mike had a chance to see the ball of fire flying in their direction like a meteor.
It crashed and exploded like a bomb behind him, shattering one of the lone trees. The heat fried Mike through his clothes but it was the light that sent the shadows scattering again like roaches.
They flew in no specific pattern, panicked and unorganized as the giant red dragon lifted his head straight in the air, opened his mouth, and blew fire like a flamethrower, scattering them further.
The dragon howled flames like a war cry at the enemies.
The cars and trucks, after untangling themselves, sped to the trees at speeds fit for a highway with their high beams blazing, throwing rocks, grass, and dirt as they skid to a stop just before hitting the people they intended to rescue.
The extra light was enough. The shadows retreated, screeching into the night sky until no more screeches could be heard.
Chris kept his head craned up, arrowhead tail lazily floating in the air as he surveyed the sky in case they decided to come back.
The people in the cars got out. Some to stare in whatever distance the shadows disappeared in, or to stare at Mike, Anne, and Westley. The ones who were still wolves, trotted over to inspect the scene.
Mike shot to his knees. He scrambled to wrap his fingers around Anne’s small arms. Whereas before he struggled to get away from her, now he couldn’t grab her fast enough.
He yanked Anne away from the blazing tree with him. His body was clumsy after his spine was stretched like silly putty and he fell on top of her.
Doesn’t matter, he thought. The heat of the burning tree and surrounding shrubs didn’t scorch him through his clothes like before, which meant he put some distance between her and the fire.
Westley, who’d managed to clear the fire just fine on his own—lucky bastard with his uninjured spine—jumped away to check on his lover.
Mike lifted his head. He couldn't see much with the burning white spots in his eyes, but he did see how the dragon wobbled on all four of his clawed feet and how Westley allowed the horse-sized creature to lean on him as Westley escorted him back to a bed.
Mike wanted to laugh. He couldn't believe he was still alive by such a thin stroke of luck.
His hands went to either side of Anne’s head. He lifted himself enough to get a good look at her. She stared up at him, breathing, but her body was dead-still. "Are you al—?"
Her fist in his jaw stopped him. The force knocked him to his back as though a tornado had done the lifting. Her small body climbed on top of him, might as well have put a pebble on a mountain for all she weighed, but her slap to his face cracked like a lightning strike. "You idiot! You stupid, stupid, jerk! Let you go. What were you thinking?"
He grabbed her wrists but that almost wasn't enough to stop her. Bill appeared from behind and wrapped his arms around her, yanking her off.
Her arms and legs flailed with the urge to strike. Bill dropped her to her feet and gave her one hard shake. “Stop screaming.” His voice was as calm as lake water on a nice day. Anne obeyed, though she still glared at Mike.
Mike decided to stay right where he was lest any movement provoke another attack. "Where were you?"
Bill released his glaring granddaughter and offered Mike his hand. With his eyes still on Anne, Mike took it and got to his feet. Bill didn’t release him right away, his hand squeezing Mike’s enough that a few of his knuckles popped, meaning he’d caught the subtle accusation. "It's night. I was sleeping when I heard the racket."
Suspicion scratched the back of Mike's neck. "The sun only just went down a few minutes ago."
Bill's friendly face hardened. Another one of Mike’s knuckles popped. "I'm old, I need my sleep."
Funny, Mike knew a few senior citizens and they all seemed to need less sleep as they aged. For the sake of his hand, though, he kept his mouth shut.
A frightened feminine voice whispered from behind him. "Will they come back?"
Mike turned. That woman who was nearly on top of him earlier, Flo, or Fanny, or whatever, stood trembling, her thin hands clutched together and feet were bare. Her broken shoes must’ve fallen off when she ran away from the danger. A wolf rubbed against her legs to offer comfort but she paid no attention to it.
He didn't know what to say to her. "I don't know. They don't seem to like the light so we should be safe if we stay indoors with the lights on."
Anne stood beside him, close enough that their arms brushed but when he looked down at her she avoided his eyes. His lips quirked, he couldn't help it. She worried for him and now she stood by him to keep the crowd at bay despite the anger that radiated off her like an oven burner set on hi.
Then it hit him and his eyes bulged. She was protecting him. He couldn’t believe it. Though he was one human against a crowd of werewolves, he was still sure he could handle himself without her protection should they decide that the possibility of him being the first werewolf wasn’t worth the danger to them or their children.
He appreciated it, but he didn’t need her protection. Not at all.
Didn’t matter that the last time he stood before a crowd like this they hadn't been so forgiving. They had rocks in their hands and the idea that this could play out like that horrific scene from so long ago, made him question whether or not he should be standing there or getting ready to run as the people in front of him looked among themselves for answers.
Their low murmurs picked up into excited chatter, as though nothing had just swooped in from the sky and tried to kill them to begin with. "It must be him!"
"He's the one."
"Did you see those shadows?"
“Frickin’ crazy, man.”
The crowd was ready to advance on him but Gordon cut ahead of them all, two heavy flashlights in his hands. "That's enough! I didn't call you here to rush him, he's not a Goddamn celebrity!"
Mike was in awe of the way the entire pack hushed at Gordon's strong gaze and severe voice. Would he ever understand the relationship between a pack and their leader? Money alone couldn't do that.
Gordon sighed and shook his head, annoyed with the people before him. "Since it's obvious that most of you travelled quite a ways to be here, I'll give you a choice: either go home and get away from the possible danger," he looked over his shoulder at Mike
. "or stay until morning so everyone can decide what to do about this."
Mike at least expected the individuals with children to take the hint and go. Everyone kept their feet firm.
"They're out of their minds," he muttered.
Anne nudged him, her anger gone, replaced with a catty smile. "And they'll do whatever you tell them."
Mike glanced sharply at Bill who still stood next to them, but the man either didn't hear his granddaughter or pretended not to.
With his keen senses it had to be the latter.
When no one moved to leave, Gordon grumbled, pulled an overstuffed key ring out of his pocket and handed them all keys to the small houses around the ranch with a warning to keep the lights on throughout the night and telling them where the flashlights were located.
Gordon threw them a glare when everyone had gone. It took twenty minutes to convince the pack to go without getting another word, or more autographs, from Mike.
"I hope your highnesses are happy. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to turn off the lights from these trucks."
"Shouldn't we keep them on?" Anne asked.
Gordon barely glanced at her. "I'm not paying to replace those batteries when they die just because the lights were left on."
"I'll help you," Mike offered.
"I'm not the one they're after. Go to bed," he snapped.
Anne stepped toward her master, guilt in her voice. "Gordon—"
"I don't want your help either. Go to bed," He yelled, already in one of the cars.
Mike rolled his eyes and turned so Gordon couldn’t see his sneer. If the bastard didn’t want any help then Mike wasn’t going to offer twice.
"I'll keep an eye on him," Bill said, nudging Anne to follow Mike to their small cabin. "Get some rest."
Anne hesitated, wrapped her arms around her grandfather, kissed his cheek, and then looped her arm through Mike's.
He couldn't help but bring a hand up to the back of her neck.
She looked at him sharply. "What are you doing?"
"Checking for injuries." It was true, but it was secondary to his need to touch her and he needed a quick cover. He let his hand slide down her back as he searched for anything out of place and delighted when he found nothing. "That was a hard fall."