She checked the case and found nestled in a square of soft fabric a round lump of amber rosin that should rightfully be as hard as glass. Instead it smelled sweet and had the slightest give to it. She ran the bow across it quickly, and the hairs took on the sticky rosin, which was designed to give the hairs good grip.
Something at her ear whispered softly, like a teasing springtime breeze coaxing her to walk outside, enjoy the absence of snow. She really hated the snow. Flowers and the warmth of the sun (albeit felt through sunscreen and protective clothing) made her giddy. She couldn’t get the image out of her brain. And the idea that playing the violin would sound like spring coaxed her forward.
She plucked the E string and...it sounded in tune. More weirdness. A quick pluck of the A, D and G strings found the same.
“Holy crap,” she muttered.
Giddy excitement coaxed her to place the base of the violin against her shoulder and hug it with her chin. Grasping the neck with her left fingers, she—
“No.”
She quickly set the violin back in the case.
“You are not that stupid, Summer. If playing the violin was some means to calling up Beneath or the devil or some dark curse, then I’m not going to risk it.”
Besides, she prided herself on following the rules, or at least, not rocking the boat when it came to her missions. She did her best and did not raise questions. She liked maintaining that militant control while on the job. Because in life? Not so much control. Especially when she bit people for sustenance. She did something to them. They were never the same. And that lack of control required balance in all other aspects of her life.
Holding a hand over the violin, ready to touch it, she flinched when the breezy whisper felt more like a shove into the springtime than a suggestion. Almost as if something wanted her to touch it.
That was creepy. And not in the good way.
“Nope. Not going to play it.”
She inspected the end of the bow, wondering if she should loosen the hairs a few twists because it wasn’t good for it to be kept tightened when not in use. Yet she’d found it in this condition. Obviously, this was some sort of magical violin.
Placing the bow in the case, her wrist suddenly twisted and the bow glided across all four violin strings in rapid succession.
“Oh shit. I did not do that.”
She dropped the bow, but it landed on the strings, and again, drew out a series of notes.
“No, no, no. It’s not me. I didn’t do it!”
She looked around. A weird feeling that someone was watching and would finger her as the culprit crept up her neck. A strange silvery whisper tickled her ear, and she shook her head and slapped at her long blond hair near her ear.
The tones from that weird, accidental bowing of the strings had sounded incredible. As if the violin had been waiting ages, endlessly, ceaselessly, for someone to come and release that sound.
“But not me. Oh no.” She took a step away from the open violin case. Staring hard at the bow, she waited for it to move of its own volition. It didn’t flinch.
Dashing to the case, she slapped the lid down and rebuckled the latch. Then, tucking the case under her arm, she raced down the dark hallway, fleeing toward the cool morning daylight.
For once, she’d creeped herself out. And the last thing she needed was to be accused of playing a violin that would put her in league with the devil Himself.
Copyright © 2016 by Michele Hauf
ISBN-13: 9781488004674
Awakened by the Wolf
Copyright © 2016 by Kristal Hollis
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