by T. S. Ryder
The Book of Power, Devoted To Controlling The Dark Father Of Sin. Behold, all of the answers to all of your questions are held inside.
“This is what Marcus wants,” Agatha said. Her voice sounded dreamy and far away. She had no idea how she knew this information, but she knew it to be true. “Why now?” She asked turning to face him.
“My father left Marcus an inheritance in his will, it should have lasted him a long time. It should have lasted his entire life if he had managed it well. He didn’t. He spent it all and then showed up last week demanding more. He seemed so lost and angry. I thought by telling him about the book it might offer him some sense of purpose or give him some guidance. After all, he is part of my family. It is where our ability to shape-shift comes from.
Once he heard about it, he became obsessed with the power held inside. He thinks it holds the solutions to all of his problems, but he doesn’t understand. The book gives with one hand and takes with the other. Nothing is free, there are always consequences.” He shook his head and crossed his arms. Outside the day was growing long. “He told me that if I didn’t give him the book, he would make the people I care about suffer. He started with you. But after our fight last night and the talk in the diner this afternoon, I think he’s done asking nicely.”
“Why don’t you just destroy it?”
“No one knows how to. Fire doesn’t burn it, water doesn’t obscure it. We can’t get rid of it. I left it on a deserted island in the middle of the Pacific. But when I woke up the next morning, there it was, sitting in bed next to me. It is our curse. We are saddled with it. But I can’t let Marcus have it. He’s so angry about everything; about my father abandoning him, about having to figure out what he is and how to control it on his own. He could hurt a lot of people with this book.”
Agatha reached out with her fingers to touch the book. She was sure that Henry was going to stop her. Any moment he was going to reach out and grab her hand before she could make contact. But he didn’t. Her outstretched fingers grazed the cover of the book. The material felt almost like leather, but not quite.
“You never answered my question,” she said as she let her hand fall.
“What question?” He asked.
She turned to face him. “Why me?”
Darkness was falling outside. It was twilight now. The sky was a bruised blue and purple. Clouds were gathering above them as a storm was brewing.
“Did you really have no idea?” He asked. Before she knew it, his hand was taking hers. His skin was warm and she let his hands envelope hers. “I thought I was... I thought it was obvious.”
“What was obvious?” She asked. She was looking into his dark eyes. They were suddenly very close, but still not close enough.
“That I liked you.”
“What?” She asked. “When did you ever...”
“That morning we had breakfast with that German company. And we were both getting coffee at the same time. Don’t you remember? I looked over at you and you looked back.”
Agatha’s mouth fell open and then it turned into a smile. “I had no idea,” she said. “I was so nervous just from being near you. I was trying hard not to spill anything on myself. Is that what you think flirting is? Giving someone a look over coffee?” She couldn’t help but tease him. He was so important and powerful. How was it possible he didn’t know how to talk to women?
He shrugged his shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. Then he leaned forward and she closed her eyes as his lips met hers. His kiss was chaste at first. Nothing more than a gentle press of his lips against hers. But she wanted him. She parted her lips and he responded. His arms came up around her and he pulled her flush against him, as their kiss deepened.
She had forgotten where she was and who he was. The two of them were all that existed in that moment. His tongue was dancing with hers and his hands were caressing her back and then daring to go lower.
He grabbed her ass and half lifted her off the ground. She gently bit his lower lip and he growled in response. He spun them around and pushed her against the cold wall. Pinning her arms on either side of her head, Henry pressed his forehead against hers. They were both out of breath, but she wanted more. As she leaned forward, her lips crashed against his.
His body pushed against hers, but it wasn’t enough. Her arms were still held by him so she lifted her legs up off the ground and wrapped them around his waist. She could feel him pressing against her and yes, oh yes. They were going to do this here and now. She had never wanted anything more.
The howl of a wolf ripped them apart. In an instant, her legs were back on the ground and Henry released her arms before spinning around to protect her from what might be coming. She took several deep breaths and tried to recover from the hard right turn they had taken. One moment they had been all over each other and now they were preparing for battle.
Henry grabbed his cell phone and dialed quickly. “Mr. Stevens, has the staff left?” He waited for a moment, listening to the answer. But he wasn’t standing still. He was loosening his tie and then he was unbuttoning his coat and taking it off.
As much as she wished it were, she knew this wasn’t for her. He was getting ready for something else, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to see. “Thank you, and have a good night.”
“Is everyone gone?” Agatha asked and her voice came out a whisper.
“Yes,” Henry responded. “Stevens lives on the property, but I’ve told him to lock himself in for the night.”
The howl came again, closer this time as if it were just outside. Agatha whipped her head to the side as her body began to shake uncontrollably.
“Where is he?” She asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. In front of her, Henry lifted his shirt over his head and threw it to the side. He kicked off his shoes and stripped down to nothing but his black boxer-briefs.
“Can it get in here?” Agatha asked.
“There is little that can stop it,” he said. “Certainly not those doors.”
As if on cue, there was a loud banging from directly below them. The entire tower shuddered and the book on the table jumped. The pounding on the steel door became relentless. Something massive was hitting it over and over again. Finally, there was the horrible sound of metal squealing against metal. He had broken through.
Henry looked at her over his shoulder. He said nothing but gave her a long, sad look. Then he began to change. With a violent yell, he fell forward on all fours.His legs and arms transforming into those of a wild beast. Bright white fur emerged from his back and spread over his body as his jaw jutted out and his teeth grew. Before her eyes, he turned from a handsome man to a terrifying animal.
Henry bared his teeth. He was on his haunches facing the door, growling and snapping his jaw. She could hear her own desperate gasps, tears slipping from her eyes. She pressed her back against the wall, trying to put more distance between herself and the stairs. She was so weak and powerless compared to these strange, magical beings. She wished she had a sword or a weapon or something to protect herself with.
Without warning, Marcus came bounding up the stairs and launched himself at Henry. The white wolf fought back, but Marcus, in his shaggy brown wolf form, was scrappy and fast. Before she was ready for it, they were nothing more than a fury of fur, teeth and claws. They were attacking each other and she could hear painful cries coming from both of them.
The animals separated, but continued to growl at each other. Marcus had blood trickling down his hind legs. Henry looked worse. There was blood pumping from his side and he was limping. They were circling and nipping at each other, searching for weaknesses. The room reeked of animal and blood.
She needed to help Henry, but how? How could she possibly help him? Then she heard it. Whispers, too quiet to be understood. They flowed just underneath the sounds of the fighting animals. They were calling to her, but from where? Suddenly, she saw the cover of the book open on its own.
Agatha gave one last look at the two animals who wer
e circling and growling at each other. It was only a moment before they were at it again, biting and clawing. Using their fury as a distraction, she raced towards the book. It was huge, the pages were a thick tan parchment. How would she find what she needed? There were at least a thousand pages in front of her.
“How do I stop him?” She asked and the book responded. It opened in front of her, quickly flipping through hundreds of pages, somehow knowing to stop at the page she needed. Again the words first appeared as strange, unreadable symbols. But as she stared at them, they transferred to letters she understood.
She began to read. At first, her voice was halting as she struggled to speak the strange sounds of this ancient language. As she read, a wind picked up in the tower whipping her hair around her head like a deranged halo. And then the words weren’t bizarre or foreign. Somehow she knew them, it was as if she had spoken this ancient language every day of her life. Everything in front of her began to shimmer and shine. And then it wasn’t her reading the words, it was more like the words were using her voice to come out.
The wolves pulled away from each other and looked at Agatha. Marcus growled and lunged at her, but Henry was ready and he clamped his jaws on Marcus’ back leg, holding him in place as the words poured from Agatha’s mouth. She was speaking louder and louder, faster and faster. Marcus was desperate, his paws scrabbling on the floor as he struggled to free himself from Henry’s hold.
There was a wrenching, cracking sound as Marcus’ body began to seize up. He was fighting against it, but it was a losing battle. His limbs were locking and inch by inch the spell overtook his body. His legs locked, his gaping mouth was frozen mid-howl and then he stopped moving altogether. The spell worked, he was inert, a taxidermy wolf trapped forever in mid-lunge.
Henry finally opened his jaw and released Marcus’ leg. The wind stopped whipping, calmness fell over them and the spell was over. Agatha slumped down on the table, feeling suddenly more tired than she had ever felt in her life. She was drained and empty and very, very thirsty. Her eyes were closed and she did not see Henry change back into a man. From somewhere far away, she felt him lift her up and carry her past the frozen Marcus and down the spiral stairs.
“It’s alright,” he whispered to her. “It’s ok. You did it. You saved us. Just rest now.” She felt herself lowered into a soft and warm bed. Henry was pulling away from her, but she couldn’t be separated from him. She needed his touch. She tugged on his arm and managed to open her eyes so she could look into his.
“Come and lie down with me,” she whispered. He nodded and slid between the sheets. He wrapped her up in his strong arms and Agatha rested against his warm chest. It felt so right being next to him. It felt perfect, it was where she belonged. Slowly she was coming back to earth. She still felt tired, but not as exhausted as she had. She was at least managing to keep her eyes open for more than a few seconds. She could feel his heart beating in his chest. Tilting her head up, she saw that he was looking down at her with his dark eyes. Henry leaned down and kissed her forehead. Smiling at him, she leaned in for a real kiss.
Their lips met like old friends. His kisses started light and teasing, but as they continued to touch each other those kisses grew in intensity. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him. Agatha leaned forward and laid delicate kisses along his chest, touching his scars with her lips.
He groaned and held her tightly against him. She could feel how eager and ready he was. His hands slipped under her shirt and he pulled it off her, before unsnapping her bra in one smooth movement. The cold air of the night danced across her skin as his hands caressed her bare back.
She felt like she was falling into him. She was lost in his touch and his kiss. Henry easily flipped her over, so she was on her back. His hands unzipped her jeans, sliding them off of her. She grabbed at his shoulders, his chest and any part of him she could touch. She wanted him, she had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him.
Agatha gasped and arched her back when he entered her. Rocking together, their bodies moved in a perfect rhythm. Closing her eyes, Agatha let herself go. She only existed in the moment, focusing on his touch and the way his breath caught in her ear when she whispered the word yes. She reached orgasm first, yelling out his name as she did. An excited Henry followed a few seconds later.
His arms wrapped Agatha as she slipped into a heavy sleep. It seemed impossible that so much had occurred in a single day. She felt like her entire life had been turned upside down and she was currently sharing a bed with her shape-shifting boss. There was a lot that needed to be figured out, but it could all wait until the morning.
Chapter Seven
It was the coldest December that the small town of Cryer’s Bluff had ever had. Or so the news said. Agatha smiled whenever she heard that bit of information repeated on the television. She had been hearing it a lot over the last few days, but for the life of her she just couldn’t remember a winter that had made her feel as warm and as full as this one.
She tuned out the sound of the weather report as she looked out one of the stained windows of Henry’s Manor. Her breath curled in soft, white vapor before frosting against the glass. She wiped it clean with the palm of her hand and continued watching the snow fall on the manor grounds. It was a thick, blanketing layer of white that turned the entire landscape into one uniform, blank canvas.
Only a single line of gray interrupted the snowy layout, the main road leading up to the manor that had been shoveled and salted and was being kept clear by several snow ploughs that Henry had rented. Agatha smiled at the thought of Henry. Her arms curled around herself and her belly as the familiar warmth that came with thoughts of him filled her up. She could never have thought, in a million years, that she would have found someone like him.
It had been such a whirlwind of a romance, an absolute fairy tale of a story. Agatha smiled and shook herself as the phrase ‘Cinderella story’ entered her thoughts. She chuckled despite herself and pressed her palm against the cool, stained glass window. “More like beauty and the beast,” she murmured to no one in particular.
Agatha smiled and closed her eyes. There had been a fair bit of awkwardness at the office in the beginning. After all, it’s not every day that the CEO of a successful company falls for one of the accountants.
The logistics of it, Agatha remembered Henry using that word, the logistics of it had been the trickiest bit to handle. It was hardly appropriate workplace behavior and the tabloids had had a field day with the story, trying their best to make it sound sleazy and unethical. Agatha had known better, deep in her bones, with a certainty she had never before experienced, that this was it, that Henry was the one for her.
Henry, on their fourth date would confess just as much to her, confirming what she felt as well. He had wanted her to move in with him after the second month of dating, but she was the one who had wanted to take it slow. But despite their precaution, time had flown by so quickly, and before she knew it, she had gotten pregnant. Henry had been ecstatic. And now it was Christmas. Their first Christmas together. Agatha couldn’t stop smiling at that thought.
“Would Madam care for some tea?” Agatha turned slightly at the sound of Stevens’ voice. He had been one of the best surprises of the relationship she had with Henry. Their first encounter had been a very rushed, panicked “Defeat the rabid werewolf” kind of an affair and even after that, poor Stevens had the considerably large chip of being the butler of what could easily be considered modern day royalty.
He had quickly proven almost all of Agatha’s preconceived notions wrong. Not only had he been one of the most polite and professional people she had ever met, but more importantly, he had been one of the kindest. In him, Agatha had found not only a trusted confidante but an easy bridge into the lifestyle and culture of the Cranes’.
Whenever she found herself ‘weirded out’ by the reality of her situation, by Henry’s unique condition, it was Stevens who provided perspective and support to her. He wa
s the one who had guided her into the rituals and traditions and quirks of the Crane household. He was the one who had held her hand while Henry had locked himself in the steel doored basement of the manor during one of his sessions and it was he who had helped Agatha and Henry gain some valuable alone time away from the prying eyes of tabloids and townspeople.
“Thank you, Mr. Stevens.” Agatha smiled as she accepted the warm drink from him, bringing it to her lips for a quick sip. “It’s delicious!” she said. She had learned early on that Steven was as sensitive to false compliments and praise as any person could possibly be. Any praise that was offered had to be sincere or it would be rebuffed as politely and as sharply as only a British butler could, with impeccable manners and acerbic wit.
“Thank you Ma’am.” Stevens smiled with the slightest bow of his head and turned to leave.
“Stevens?” Agatha called after him, stopping him before he could leave “Why did Henry want me here?”
Steven arched a brow, the corner of his lips twitching ever so slightly as he replied, “I believe it’s called a ‘Christmas party’ Ma’am.”
Agatha smirked slightly. “Right…..and I’m Jennifer Lopez.”
Stevens bowed smartly. “Very good Ms. Lopez,” he said and turned to leave crisply
Agatha couldn’t help but chuckle again. In a world full of magic and werewolves and CEO boyfriends, Stevens helped provide much needed grounding and perspective.
The sense of anticipation and anxiety that Henry had exhibited when he had asked her to spend Christmas together had surprised her. It was more than the nervousness that any boyfriend might exhibit when taking a step towards commitment, it was….something more… something Agatha couldn’t quite put her finger on. She sighed and downed the rest of her tea, pushing the thought out of her mind. It was their first Christmas together, and she was determined not to let anything ruin it.
She was about to follow after Stevens into the main dining room when a flash of light from outside caught her attention. She walked up to the stained glass window and peered out at several pairs of headlights making their way up the main path to the manor. A frown crossed her face as the cars, three of them, all black, all expensive looking, stopped at the main door and one by one emptied their passengers. Family, friends and coworkers started entering the building.