strangers worth damning her soul to this
internal Hell?
What had been Nash’s purpose in
taking her to his village, in showing her
what it meant to be loved, and then
revealing to her he was the one thing she
hated more than anything in the world?
Why hadn’t he just killed her? She was the
last of the Hunters. With her out of the
picture, the Wolves he protected would be
free to devour entire villages at their
leisure. Nothing made sense and the only
one who might have the answers was
someone she never wanted to see again.
Except, she still saw Nash. Every few
minutes his image clouded her thoughts.
He haunted her dreams. He appeared in
her heart without any provocation. How
could she still love him now that she knew
what he really was?
“I do love him,” she whispered aloud,
“but I hate him more.”
A gentle knock at her door pulled her
abruptly back to the real world. She found
herself standing in front of the wardrobe
completely naked with no idea as to how
she’d ended up there.
“Are you ready, Miss Decatur?” Dr.
Sabin’s soft voice carried through the
door.
“Nearly.” She reached for her clothes
and dressed quickly. Several minutes
later, she opened the door, breathless from
her haste to become presentable.
Dr. Sabin smiled at her. He was clean-
shaven, had combed his hair and had
changed out of his rumpled clothes. He
took her wrist and placed something in the
palm of her hand. “Thomas said these
were yours,” he said. “I’ve been carrying
them around in my pocket.”
Maralee didn’t have to glance down to
know the warm metal in her hand was a
pair of dragonfly barrettes. She tucked
them into a pocket in her cloak, not even
thanking the doctor for returning them to
her.
“Let’s go. I’m famished,” she said.
He chuckled at her enthusiasm and
took her hand, placing it on his forearm as
he led her through the deserted clinic to
the outside.
The sky was a dull gray. Heavy clouds
blocked the warmth of the sun from
Maralee’s face as she looked up to gauge
the day’s weather. Dr. Sabin locked the
door to the clinic—a small, but well-kept
brick building in the center of town. The
dark blue door matched the awnings and
trim. A small sign beside the door read,
Dr. Jared Sabin, Medical Doctor. His
fingers covered her hand, which was
resting lightly on his sleeve and they
headed towards the inn.
“I guess being from the North you
would be used to the cold,” he said as he
turned up his collar against the chilly
breeze.
“I haven’t been home for many years.
Are you originally from Sarbough?”
“Actually I come from Rangling near
the Southern Sea. I’ve only been here a
few months. I just recently opened my
clinic.”
“Do they have Wolves in Rangling?”
she asked him, an old habit of hers. She
was always trying to decide where to go
next.
“Wolves?” He glanced at her,
perplexed.
“Large Wolves,” she clarified. “They
would stand about this tall at the
shoulders.” She held a hand waist high.
“Weigh around a hundred and fifty to two
hundred pounds. Seem to turn up only
when the moon is full.”
“Is that what you dream about? These
Wolves?”
“Mostly.”
“And you’ve seen them?”
“I kill them.” She expected him to be
shocked. Most people were, when she
told them she hunted enormous beasts for
a living.
“Are they somehow undeserving of
life?”
She paused, considering his question.
“Undeserving?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You don’t have
to answer that. I’ve never really
understood the point in killing. I saw too
much of it at the hospital in Rangling. It’s
a large city. Several territorial gangs have
formed. Nevertheless, I’d mend those
young men and send them back into the
world, only to see them again—sometimes
in surgery, but more often at autopsy. One
insulted another’s family. One became
involved with another’s sister. One stole
another’s property. One expressed a
different opinion. Always they had a
reason for fighting, for killing, but I never
understood the point. How does ending
another’s life bring peace? How can it
bring anything but sorrow?”
Maralee internalized his words but did
not comment on his logic. Apparently, he
hadn’t had his entire family slaughtered by
Wolves. He’d never known the absolute
rage or experienced the ceaseless need to
prevent the same tragedy from happening
again.
“It’s snowing,” he said.
She looked up at the sky and blinked,
as large flakes clung to her lashes. “Yes,”
she said. “Dr. Sabin?”
“Please, call me Jared,” he urged,
squeezing her hand.
“Jared, you never answered my
question.”
“Your question?”
“Are there Wolves in Rangling?”
“My
dear,
there
are
wolves
everywhere. Most of them are disguised
as human beings.”
Her eyes opened wide as she stared up
at him in disbelief. “How did you know?”
Were there others like Nash? Others who
were half-human, half-monster?
He gave her a puzzled look. “I was
speaking figuratively. Philosophizing. It’s
a bad habit I picked up at university.”
“Oh.”
“Here’s the inn.” They drew to a halt
in front of the building.
She pulled her hand out of his grasp,
climbed the four shallow steps of the
stoop and reached for the door handle.
“Miss Decatur?” he asked, gazing up
at her from the lane.
“Yes?” She turned to look at him.
“Would it be acceptable for me to call
you Maralee?”
She chuckled. “Well, I suppose. It is
my name after all.”
He smiled and nodded with his eyes
closed. “Right.”
She opened the door and entered the
building. Jared followed, removing his
glasses and wiping them on his shirt as
they steamed up in the moist warmth of the
inn.
“Miss Decatur,” the innkeeper said.
“We heard you’d been taken to the clinic.
How are you feeling?”
/>
“A bit better,” she said. “Did Phyllis
cook breakfast this morning?”
“You bet.” He took her cloak and
Jared’s long, wool coat. “Is it snowing?”
Maralee nodded. “Just started.”
“I am looking forward to spring,”
Gordon said. “Snow is bad for business.
Now, off to the dining room with you. I’ll
tell Phyllis to bring your breakfast.”
“Thank you,” said Jared.
“It’s good to see you again, Doctor. I
wanted to ask you about this pain I’ve
been having in my shin at night.”
“A pain in your shin? It could be any
number of things. Make an appointment
and I’ll see what I can do.” Jared
followed Maralee into the cozy dining
room, escaping the innkeeper’s attempt at
a free consultation.
“I’ll do that,” Gordon called after him.
Jared seated Maralee, pushing in her
chair for her, before taking the chair
across from hers. She avoided looking at
him, tracing an indiscriminate pattern on
the table with her finger. She wasn’t really
in the mood for company. She was grateful
when Phyllis burst into the room with two
large plates of food. If Maralee had food
in her mouth, it would be rude to talk.
Phyllis set a plate in front of each of
them and smiled sweetly at the doctor. “I
must say that Miss Decatur has fine taste
in men,” Phyllis said, “though I must put in
my vote for the gentle doctor over the dark
and dangerous sort she usually keeps
company with.”
Jared gave Phyllis a questioning look
and then turned his attention to Maralee
who suddenly felt lightheaded again.
“Are you feeling all right, Maralee?”
Jared reached for her trembling hand
across the table.
She withdrew her hand and hid it
under the table before he could touch her.
“I’m fine,” she lied. A particular dark and
dangerous sort had invaded her thoughts
once again—not that he ever left them.
“You’d better eat or I’ll be dragging
you back to the clinic,” he warned.
“Gentle, yet firm,” Phyllis said. “Yes,
he definitely gets my vote.”
Maralee was glad when Phyllis went
back into the kitchen. She reached for her
fork, her hand still trembling. “Jared, after
we eat, do you think you could give me
that sleeping concoction?”
“If you’d like.” He smeared butter
over his griddlecakes, and drenched them
in syrup without having to look to Maralee
for guidance. He used his fork to take a
bite, and failed to drain his glass of milk
to flush the sweetness from his mouth. He
didn’t claim he would stick to sausage
because he could stomach it despite its
spiciness.
“Yes,” she said, shaking her head to
clear her thoughts. “I’d like a few hours of
peace.”
He glanced up at her. “You’re not
eating.”
She nibbled on a piece of toast. Jared
seemed satisfied with this. He had no way
of knowing she was not a delicate eater.
Jared chatted lightly about his experiences
in medical school. Maralee responded in
the appropriate places, but she couldn’t
have told him what he was talking about if
he’d asked. She was thinking about a
particular pixie princess who brought
smiles to faces with her magical giggles.
“Try some eggs,” Jared was saying.
“You need protein.”
Fresh robin eggs right out of the
shell. I notice you cook everything.
Maralee shook her head. “I don’t
really like eggs,” she lied.
“Sausage then, or at least drink your
milk.”
Maralee took an obedient sip of her
milk. Why did everything, absolutely
everything, remind her of Nash?
Phyllis came to claim Jared’s empty
plate. Maralee’s plate showed signs of
food being moved around, but it was
mostly still intact.
“Would you like me to make you
something else?” Phyllis asked her.
“Some
porridge perhaps, or some
oatmeal.”
“No, thank you, Phyllis. I just don’t
have much of an appetite these days.”
Phyllis clicked her tongue with
disapproval. “I will start a pot of chicken
soup immediately,” she said, “and I won’t
leave you alone until you’ve eaten an
entire bowl.”
“She’s going to get some much needed
sleep first,” Jared said, and climbed to his
feet. “You go directly upstairs and get
ready for bed. I have to return to the clinic
for your medicine. I’ll be back directly.”
He stepped out of the dining room,
retrieved his coat and was out in the snow
before Maralee had even found the
strength to rise from her chair.
“I’d say the doctor himself is your best
medicine, girly,” Phyllis said. “Nothing
better for a broken heart than a kind and
understanding, young man.”
Maralee pushed past her. “I hope
you’re not insinuating I should get
involved with my doctor.”
“That’s exactly what I’m sinulating.”
Phyllis stopped her from leaving the
dining room by placing a hand on her arm.
“I know this ain’t none of my business, but
those dark dangerous types are exciting
and they make the heart pound and the
knees weak, but it never lasts, miss. You
find yourself a nice, steady young man,
like Dr. Sabin, and settle down. That’s the
smart thing to do.”
“The smart thing to do is to stay away
from men entirely,” Maralee said.
“Excuse me.”
As Maralee climbed the stairs,
Phyllis’s look of concern seemed to bore
into her back. Maralee wasn’t used to
having people fuss over her. She felt
greatly relieved when she entered her
room and closed the door behind her. She
gathered her things and went to the
bathroom at the end of the hall. There, she
washed up, braided her hair and put on
her long flannel nightgown—an article of
clothing that hadn’t been used once, when
she’d stayed with Nash. When she
returned to her room, Jared was already
waiting for her. He was running a finger
along the length of the sword sheath on her
dresser.
“That was fast,” she said.
He jumped and hid his hand behind his
back.
“I’ll save you the trouble of
wondering,” she said. “That’s the sword I
use to slay Wolves.”
“I didn’t mean to pry,” he said. “It’s a
very beautiful sword. It s
eems you take
very good care of it. It’s shiny.”
So, he’d gone so far as to remove it
from its sheath.
“I have to keep it polished or it
tarnishes,” she explained. She could tell
he didn’t know anything about swords
when he didn’t question her about her
sword tarnishing. It didn’t matter. It would
not occur to many people that silver was
an unusual metal from which to forge a
sword.
“Are you ready for your long nap?” he
asked, opening his medical bag to retrieve
her sleep aid.
Maralee nodded. She climbed into bed
and arranged her pillows and blankets. He
handed her a small cup of thick liquid.
“Drink it all, Maralee,” he said. “It
tastes pretty bad.”
She hesitated and then downed the
medicine. He hadn’t been lying about the
taste. She winced, forcing the bitter
medicine down her throat. He took the
little cup from her and handed her a glass
of water to wash the medicine down. He
took the empty water glass, as well, and
surprised her by sitting next to her on the
edge of her bed.
“I’ll observe you for a while,” he said.
“This is strong stuff. I want to make sure
there’s no adverse reaction.”
She blinked rapidly, already growing
groggy. Jared’s face blurred.
“Don’t
fight
it,
Maralee,”
he
murmured, stroking her cheek. “Just
relax.”
She couldn’t help but relax. Her body
felt heavy, her thoughts and senses seemed
to be drifting away. Within a few minutes,
she was sound asleep. For once, her sleep
wasn’t plagued by nightmares. She dreamt
of two small Wolf cubs, one black and
one white. Both had contrasting marks
across their left eye in the shape of a
crescent moon. Watching them play
together in the forest brought the deepest
joy to her heart.
CHAPTER 23
Nash and Carsha picked their way through
the forest in single file. Nash was
dragging the carcass of a large buck. A fat,
gray rabbit dangled from Carsha’s mouth.
He would have field dressed the animals,
but he hadn’t brought a knife. Because he
vowed never to shift to his human form
again, a knife would have been useless
anyway. Opposable thumbs had distinct
advantages, but he would get by without
them. He was out to prove, for reasons not
altogether clear, being a Wolf was as
good as being a human. Carsha whined
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