The Wolf of Haskell Hall

by Colleen Shannon

  Dismounting, Lil checked her own pistol. It was fully loaded. Sticking the pistol back in her belt, she tied her mare to a tree as Shelly had done, and then followed her stable manager, placing her steps exactly in Shelly’s larger boot prints.

  Shelly scowled over her shoulder, but Lil merely kept walking. Shelly emerged from the bog and climbed the rocky slope. She topped the rise, pausing to get her bearings, her tall form outlined by the bright backdrop of the moon.

  Lil was climbing the slope herself when it happened. One moment, Shelly was upright, getting a firmer grip on her spear. The next, she was gone. No scream, only the bouncing of a few pebbles skidding down the slope toward Lil to mark her passing.

  Her heart in her throat, Lil pulled herself the rest of the way up the slope and peered over. What she saw made her reach for her pistol.

  Shelly lay at the base of the slope, her rifle fallen beyond her reach, the spear lying beside her. But she couldn’t pick it up because her hands were occupied.

  Holding the enormous wolf away from her throat. Her large hands squeezed the wolf’s muscular neck, which Lil realized accounted for why the wolf couldn’t growl.

  Its silver-tipped ruff standing on end, the wolf bared its huge fangs as it scratched at Shelly’s torso, clawing to get free. But thank heavens, Shelly’s heavy sheepskin coat repelled even those sharp claws. Claws that had scratched just above her head in Ian’s bedroom.

  Lil recognized that silver-tipped fur, those amber eyes glowing with savagery. It was Ian. And he seemed to have no hesitation in attacking Shelly.

  Shelly’s arms were weakening. The wolf’s teeth snapped together, almost grazing Shelly’s throat.

  Lil reached for her pistol, but through her tears, she could barely see the pair locked in silent battle. She blinked, trying to steady her shaking hand.

  For the most difficult choice of her life….

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  But in the end, it was no choice at all. She couldn’t let Shelly die. In his human form, Ian would urge her to make the same decision.

  Lil dashed her tears off on her sleeve and squeezed the trigger slowly, aiming for that massive rib cage. Before she could fire, Shelly brought her feet up under the wolf’s chest and heaved with all her might.

  She wasn’t strong enough to throw off such a massive weight, but it was enough to make him lurch sideways, slightly off balance. Enough for her to roll free.

  Seizing the God-given reprieve, Lil scrambled down the slope and picked up the spear. She tried to sneak up behind him, but his snout lifted and sniffed the air. With a swiftness that amazed her, the wolf spun about–and focussed on its new, more savory prey. It faced her, growling.

  Long, low, menacing. It crept toward her, and she saw the gathered haunches.

  The words came of their own accord. “No, Ian. It’s Delilah…you don’t want to do this. Not in honor of who you are. But in honor of who we can be. Together.”

  “Stab him, Lil!” Shelly urged, her voice hoarse. “Or I’ll have to shoot him.”

  But Lil couldn’t look away from those glowing amber eyes. The wolf blinked, shaking its head slightly, sniffing the air again, as if it recognized her voice, her scent.

  Holding the spear in one hand, Lil reached out with her other. Instinctively.

  Not because she wanted to.

  Because she had to.

  Better she lose a hand than her mind. She had to know, know beyond any shadow of a doubt, that something of the good man who’d made love to her so sweetly and so gently, remained inside the lupine madness. Besides, now that she faced this terror of the night, it wasn’t so dreadful. Instead, she felt an awful fascination, a wonder at what it would be like to have such primal power and grace….

  She heard Shelly’s gasp as she crept nearer, her hand held out, palm down, for the wolf to sniff. The animal was so huge, she had to lift her hand instead of lower it, but still, she seemed to startle him, for he backed a step. She held those wild amber eyes with her own that, though she didn’t know it, glowed with a wildness similar to his own.

  She crooned, “Ian, you know my scent. Just as I know yours. Come back with me to the stables. Let me help you.” Her hand was under the black snout now.

  So easily he could bite it off. One snap of those massive jaws and….

  Instead, the wolf’s nose quivered as it sniffed again, more deeply. A bit more wildness faded from the amber eyes. For one exhilarating moment, Lil saw recognition, a remnant of humanity, in that steady gaze.

  The spear sagged in her hand.

  And then the sound came. The long, low howl of the other wolf was so alive with feral menace it seemed as if the moors themselves had taken form and substance.

  A growl came next. Closer.

  Ian howled his answer, wildness consuming him again. That terrible hunger grew in Ian’s eyes, the amber gaze pinpointing her with menace. Lil snatched her hand back just as the sharp teeth snapped down on the air of her passing.

  Tears of despair filling her eyes, Lil backed up.

  How could she expect one night of passion to counteract a century of evil? The other wolf must be the alpha male, and he had a far stronger hold on Ian than she ever could. They must hunt together. The quick succession of thoughts came brutally clear and cogent under the transmutation of the alchemist moon.

  So easily it changed gold into dross….Blinking the tears away, Lil took a firmer grip on the spear and shook her head as Shelly leveled the rifle. “No. I’ll do it.”

  As Ian gathered on his haunches again, Lil arced forward, shoving the syringe straight into his throat, pressing hard so it would empty.

  Ian yelped. Then the makeshift spear snapped in Lil’s hands as he growled and yanked free. She had a moment to see that the syringe remained stuck in his throat before he leaped at her. Lil held her hands up to protect her face, tensing for the shot she knew would come.

  But it didn’t come as expected, to the side, from Shelly. It came from the slope above Lil.

  With one flashing look, she saw Jeremy silhouetted against the lurid sky. He ran down the slope as she watched, poised to fire again….

  ….but there was no need.

  The spear dropped from Lil’s nerveless hand. The slug had struck Ian squarely in the chest. Blood spurted from the small hole slightly off center in the rib cage. Jeremy scrambled to a stop beside her, still alert to fire.

  Whimpering, the wolf fell to the ground in a heap. Quivering, it flailed its arms and legs. But Jeremy must have missed the heart, for the bleeding at the chest had already begun to slow. Lil closed her eyes in a quick prayer of gratitude. She could only wonder at the prodigious power and strength that could take such a near mortal wound with so little effect.

  The amber eyes blinked, and Lil realized the laudanum was making it dizzy. She spared an angry glance at Jeremy and then fell to her knees beside Ian, ignoring Jeremy’s stern command to get away.

  Pulling a clean kerchief from her pocket, Lil padded the wound. To her amazement, it had already begun to close. The great head wavered on the strong neck, and those clear, canny eyes that seemed a part of the night itself grew cloudy. Lil reached out and stroked an ear, surprised at how soft it felt. “Go to sleep, Ian. We’ll worry about what to do in the morning. Everything will be all right.”

  With a peculiar little snort that sounded like relief, Ian dropped his head in her lap. He gave a little whuffle. The tension faded from his body as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, and tears stabbed at the backs of Lil’s eyes. She felt Ian’s hot breath blowing against the sensitive parts his other persona had brought to such vivid life….was it only last night? Ian’s logical mind might be victim to the lupine madness, but his olfactory capacities as both man and wolf were connected to passions that didn’t require thought.

  They only required instinct.

  With a similar primitive instinct, Lil realized he recognized her in her scent. Every ounce of the wildness drained from him as, with a soft sigh, Ian went limp
, his heavy head still in her lap. Tenderness such as she’d never known made Lil’s hand shake as she stroked that thick, soft fur, so warm and dense to her touch. Perhaps there was hope for them yet.

  Lil looked up at Shelly–in time to see the second wolf creeping up on its haunches behind her. “Look out!” Lil screamed.

  Shelly turned, but as she leveled her rifle, the second wolf reached out a huge paw and batted it away, its claws digging deeply into her hand.

  Lil saw red gashes ooze through the deep slashes in Shelly’s glove. Alarm pierced her fear. Automatically, she reached for the silver leaves in her pocket, but Shelly, too, realized the new danger.

  Backing a swift step, she removed crushed silver leaves from her own pocket and slapped them on her wound. She tossed another handful in the wolf’s face, but it only snarled wider. Fangs gleamed in the moonlight, gaping with a hunger that terrified Lil. Shelly tried her cinders next, but those, too, were ineffectual, not even drawing a sneeze.

  Of a much more practical bent, Jeremy raised his rifle. From this angle, he was blocked by Shelly. “Move, gal, get out o’ me way!” Jeremy shouted.

  But with canny precision, as Shelly moved one direction, the wolf shadowed her in the opposite direction. He was huge, even larger than Ian. He was also black, but his hair was red-tipped, his snout longer and more menacing. The sounds he made were terrifying enough, but it was the look in those glowing black eyes that froze Lil to her marrow.

  Never had she seen hatred so fierce, nor blood lust so pure. The moors could run with rivulets of red, and it still wouldn’t be enough to slake this hunger. But was it Shelly he hated? Or any human being?

  Setting Ian’s head gently on the ground, Lil stood. Jeremy and Shelly had put themselves in danger to protect her, and she couldn’t sit helplessly by and watch them die. She touched the pistol in her belt, but suspected the puny slug would only anger the creature. She eyed the tree clinging to this patch of rocky ground, and picked up a fallen limb so heavy she could barely lift it.

  The movement drew those inimical black eyes away from Shelly–to Lil. Then the snarl was turned on her. With one bound, the wolf leaped across ten feet. He landed in front of Lil. With all her strength, she lifted the limb and whacked the animal’s nose.

  Yowling in combined fury and pain, the wolf backed a step, shaking its head. Shelly had time to pick up her rifle, but she stared down in dismay. It had landed hard against a rock, and the barrel was bent. She tossed the useless weapon away and snatched Jeremy’s sword, creeping up on the wolf from the side.

  Jeremy hurried to help, too, but in his haste, he tripped over a rock. The rifle flew out of his hands, firing in Shelly’s direction as it hit the ground. Shelly went very still as her hat, a neat hole in the crown two inches above her head, sailed through the air from the force of the impact.

  Scrambling up as the wolf closed with Lil again, Jeremy raised the shotgun.

  “That will only anger him from this distance, you idiot,” Shelly said through her teeth.

  Lil brandished the tree limb again as the wolf snapped at her, but she was exhausted, and the teeth came uncomfortably close to her throat.

  Jeremy snatched the sword away from Shelly–and threw it like a spear. The point stuck in the wolf’s shoulder. Howling, it spun in a tight circle. Then, with an intelligence that chilled Lil to her marrow, the wolf stopped and carefully bit into the sword hilt, removing the weapon with its teeth. If Lil had debated this animal’s origins, she did no longer. This creature, too, was a werewolf, for surely such craftiness was a human, not a lupine, trait.

  It licked its wound–and then bounded across to meet its new opposition. Lil dragged the tree limb with her as she valiantly tried to go to Jeremy’s aid.

  But in this skill, Jeremy needed no help–running. Spry as a man half his age, Jeremy covered the ground in long, loping strides, straight toward the bog.

  Disgusted, Shelly watched him run. “I never thought the little banty cock a coward.”

  “He’s not,” Lil retorted. “Can’t you see he’s drawing him away from us?”

  Her mouth open now, Shelly watched the wolf gain on Jeremy. “By Jove, I believe you’re right. Come on! If we both fire on the beast at the same time, maybe we can scare him off!” Grabbing up Jeremy’s still working rifle, Shelly ran after them.

  Lil followed, pulling her pistol as she went.

  As bright as the moonlight was, Jeremy was still some distance away, and the wolf blended very well with the night. They’d have to get closer to be sure of their aim.

  But as hard as they ran, Jeremy was faster.

  So was the wolf. It was only three paces behind Jeremy now.

  Two…

  And then to Lil’s immense relief, Jeremy scaled the tree he’d obviously been running for. Using his hobnailed boots for purchase, Jeremy swung his scrawny weight straight up the bare tree with the remarkable agility of a man who’d climbed more masts than he could count.

  Just as Lil and Shelly drew within firing range, the wolf surprised them yet again.

  It followed Jeremy straight up the tree, its claws ripping into the bark as it went. The bog lapped beneath the tree on one side. If the limb supporting Jeremy’s weight broke….

  Shelly tried aiming, but she lowered the rifle, defeated. “At this angle, I might hit the little bastard.” She held the rifle in her hand, shifting from one foot to the other, obviously not liking her helpless feeling.

  On some dim level, Lil noted the bleeding gashes on the back of Shelly’s hand, but the blood loss had slowed. There was something she needed to remember. Something to do with the legend of the werewolf. But there was no time to worry about it now….

  Hooting a mocking laugh, Jeremy climbed further out on the scrawny limb. “Come on, ye ruddy beast. Ye want a taste? Come and get it. I hope I make ye choke.”

  The limb made an ominous creaking sound as the wolf put one huge paw on it. Below them, the bog glistened like an earthly maw, wide, gleaming and hungry.

  Lil covered her eyes. But when she heard Shelly laugh, she lowered her hands.

  “I’ll be damned,” Shelly murmured on a gurgle of laughter less honking than usual. “He’s got him trapped.”

  Lil had time for one glance. Jeremy clung to one end of the limb while the wolf slowly climbed out on the other. But with every step, the limb bowed more under its weight. It tried to ease back, but with a savage CRACK! the limb broke. Yelping, the wolf fell straight into the bog.

  And Jeremy? He was obviously expecting it, for with an agile leap of his banty legs, he shoved off and grabbed the next smaller branch above. His feet dangling far above that dark, struggling mass in the bog, Jeremy shouted down, “Can’t fly, can ye’? Swim, ye bloody bastard. Straight to hell where ye belong!”

  Shelly and Lil crept to the edge of the bog and watched the wolf flail at its new, far more formidable enemy.

  This one had neither hands nor feet. No blood or bone. Only an amorphous mass that couldn’t be bitten or clawed. Instead, the wolf was learning what it felt like to be eaten, for the bog sucked at it more greedily the harder it struggled.

  Lil saw its forelegs disappear into the murk, then the powerful neck….turning away from the terror in those black eyes, Lil instead watched Jeremy as, hand over hand, he worked his way from tree limb to tree limb until he could drop to firm ground.

  When they turned away, only the wolf’s face was above the bog. A mournful wail followed them. It made Lil shiver, but Jeremy only smiled in satisfaction.

  Shelly eyed him as if she’d never seen him before, and his smile grew teasing. “Didn’t think I had brain enough for such a ruse, did ye?” Jeremy leaned close to Shelly and whispered, “I be good at other things, too, ducky.”

  What might have been a blush reddened Shelly’s cheeks, but she only turned away and began to organize what she called a travois. “It’s a hauling device used by the Indians of the American west,” she explained, detailing what she wanted them to do.


  As Lil followed instructions, she couldn’t quell a last glance at the bog beneath the tree. It roiled like oily sludge, as if recently disturbed, but there was no sign of the wolf. She’d never know who he was, now, but at least he wouldn’t be able to tempt and torment Ian any more. Using trees limbs and the heavy piece of rolled canvas Jeremy fetched from Shelly’s horse, they constructed the device easily enough. It was getting Ian onto it that was hard. He was limp, and heavy.

  But between the three of them, they managed to heave him onto the litter and haul him back up a circuitous path that bypassed the slope, to the horses.

  Before they began the trek back, Lil tried to clean Shelly’s hand with the water they’d brought along, but Shelly waved her away. “Nonsense. Just a scratch.” But Shelly wouldn’t meet Lil’s eyes as she mounted her gelding.

  Nibbling at her lip, Lil stared up at Shelly, but her friend merely glared down at Jeremy. She offered a begrudging hand to him. “Since Lil’s mare is pulling the litter, you’ll have to ride double with me.”

  “Hmm….sounds like a right attractive offer,” Jeremy opined, stroking Shelly’s hand before he leaped up behind her. “Make it again, later, ducky.”

  “Would you stop calling me that? I’m not a duck, a goose, or anything else of an avian persuasion.”

  “Now don’t ruffle them pretty feathers, ducky,” Jeremy said, pulling her firmly against his chest. “I’ll soon show ye how persuasive I can be.”

  Lil bit her lip to stifle her laughter at the dazed look on Shelly’s face. It was one Lil had seen in her own mirror after her more exasperating encounters with Ian: Shelly had the look of a woman torn between fury and reluctant attraction.

  It would be interesting to see who won this battle of wills. Shelly was much smarter, but Jeremy was….well, there was no defining what Jeremy was, save his own unique self.