Wolfdark

by Isobel Robertson

  “He’s the wolf,” I whispered.

  The old woman nodded.

  “Correct. He learnt not just to call the beasts, but to become a beast himself. He’s not the only one to do it, and not all witches would condemn him. But I think it’s filthy, dirty magic.”

  This was the first I’d heard of witches having different moral codes, but I had no time to dwell on it.

  “But if he’s my uncle, why is he stalking me like this?” I asked. “Why hasn’t he come to speak to me.”

  The old woman shook her head slowly. She and Gwyneth exchanged nervous glances.

  “I swear I didn’t know all of this story,” Gwyneth said. “But I can tell you how it ended. It was this same wolf that killed your mother.”

  “No,” I said again. “My parents died of a fever.”

  “Wrong,” the old woman said. “Don’t believe everything that you know about yourself. People find it easy to lie to small children.”

  “Your mother was killed by the wolf,” Gwyneth said quietly. “The illness was a convenient story. No one needed to know the truth.”

  “And my father?”

  A pause. Too long.

  “He took his own life after your mother’s death,” Gwyneth said softly. “You can understand why no one wanted a child to know all of this.”

  I sat down hard on the chair.

  This was all too much. Could it even be true? It seemed too far-fetched, too ridiculous. A long-lost uncle who was in fact a werewolf? A decades-long cover-up to hide the true nature of my parents’ death? Nonsense.

  And yet, I believed. Something about the old woman’s story rang true in my heart.

  If this wolf had killed my mother, I finally had a chance at revenge. A fever - well, that was nothing I could fight. But I could kill a wolf. I would have my revenge, regardless of the cost.

  Witch Killer

  I felt almost ashamed at breaking into Marcus and Delilah’s house. It seemed sneaky. Dishonest. But then I remembered the flirtatious glances that Delilah threw at my fiance, and my conscience stopped complaining.

  They had remarkably lax security, given their profession. Dressed in breeches and a shirt, I managed to slip in through an upstairs window, thanks to a tree, a rope, and years of practice. I made my way down through the house without being disturbed. I had, of course, made sure that the Carringtons themselves would be otherwise occupied. I knew them to be in attendance at a frankly second-rate ball on the other side of the city. Not something I would have bothered with myself, but no doubt Delilah had leapt at the opportunity to hunt down more men.

  The door to their main supply room (could I call it the headquarters?) was locked, but it was a straightforward enough lock and took very little effort to pick. In fact, by the time I entered the room, I was almost expecting a trap. Or perhaps for Delilah to leap out at me from behind some furniture. It all just seemed too easy.

  But the room was empty of life, and illuminated only by the moonlight shining in through the gaping window. The last of the shattered glass had been swept up, and someone had pinned boards over the window, but plenty of light still crept through the cracks. Or perhaps my new witch-sight enabled me to see in the dark. My vision was certainly sharper than ever before.

  It had been almost a full day since the loosening of my powers, and they had barely stilled at all. Everyday tasks, like getting dressed, had been complicated by the effort it took to control the swirling magic in my fingertips. I could only imagine how horrified Deborah would be should I set fire to one of my best dresses. I was wealthy, yes, but it would still be a terrible shame to waste a fine garment like that. My increased power did seem to have some uses, though. Only time would tell if those uses were worth the cost, but I could not quite bring myself to care. If my magic tore itself lose, so be it. I just had to find this wolf.

  I made my way over to the large table in the centre of the room. As I had suspected, it contained a map of London, marked with pins and threads. So much for Delilah’s magical tracking abilities. There was nothing special about this map at all.

  Other small items also lay on the map, carefully pinned down. A broken autumn leaf here, a scrap of torn silk there. All artifacts related to wolf attacks, I had no doubt. I reached out to touch a hank of coarse fur, pinned to the board near the location of my house.

  A vision hit me with such force that I felt my knees hit the floor, although I could no longer see the world around me.

  I was in the street outside my house. But this was no true image; the world had transformed into black and white, like one of the tintype photographs that people bought to hang on their walls. A man was strolling along the pavement, dressed in a top hat and tails, presumably returning home from some evening entertainment. He froze, looking about wildly. I heard nothing, but it seemed that the entire world was silent for me. Hearing was not necessary for me to identify the panic in the man’s eyes as the wolf leapt for him.

  I tried to scream, tried to run forwards to help, but I could not move. I stood there, frozen in place, as the wolf ripped the man’s throat out before my eyes. His blood spilled out onto the ground, obscenely red in this black-and-white world. I was still screaming in my mind, but no sound came out.

  Around me, the Carringtons’ house came back into view as the black and white scene vanished. I tried to sit up.

  What had just happened? I had experienced almost-true events before. At Killston Hall, for example, I had experienced the ceiling collapsing on me - and then the ceiling had indeed collapsed, only some days later. Perhaps this was another vision of the future. But something about it had felt urgent. Dangerous.

  “Delilah? Are you there?”

  There was someone else in the house. I scrambled around, looking for somewhere to hide, but my legs still could not carry me, and the footsteps were coming closer. The door swung open, and Theo walked in, still calling Delilah’s name.

  He started visibly when he saw me crumpled on the floor.

  “Lily! What on earth are you doing here? What’s happened?”

  He rushed to help me up. I stood in front of him, swaying slightly, my hands clasped tightly in his.

  For a moment, I did not know what to say. His eyes were so caring, so full of love. I knew how much it would hurt to watch those eyes change. But I thought of that red blood, spilling out to taint a black and white world, and I thought of my mother.

  “Hear me out, Theo. You won’t like it, but I have to tell you the truth.”

  He cocked his head a little, but said nothing. I drew a deep breath, ready to say the words that might ruin my life.

  “My mother was a witch,” I told him. “I didn’t know before we got back from Yorkshire, I swear. But it seems that I have magic of my own, in some way. Anyway, what I really need to tell you is that I just had a vision of the wolf. And if we don’t act now, I think someone will die.”

  Theo said nothing. He just stood there, staring at me. He didn’t even seem to be blinking.

  “Theo?” I said, taking a small step away from him. He looked horrified. His expression was everything I feared. I knew that I might burst into tears at any moment, but I couldn’t let that stop me.

  “Theo, there’s no time to waste,” I snapped. “Whatever you think about me, whatever you want to say when this is over, we need to act now, or an innocent person will die.”

  “Yes,” Theo said faintly. “Yes, we should do something.”

  “I know exactly where we need to go,” I said. I grabbed him by the hand - perhaps this would be the last time - and dragged him from the room.

  I hadn’t brought a carriage, and apparently neither had he, so we ran. With my magic loose, I seemed able to run faster than ever before. I remembered how the Yorkshire witches had transported themselves from place to place, and I shivered. Would I ever learn to do that?

  We rounded the corner onto my street, our hands still clasped, and I almost gasped aloud as I saw the scene from my vision springing to life. There wa
s the man, top hat gleaming as he walked briskly along the street - and then he stopped, listening.

  “Get away!” I screamed, ripping free of Theo to throw myself forward. Too slow. The wolf was already in motion, rising from the darkness.

  But our presence had changed things. The man fell to the ground, the wolf on top of him. I kept running, Theo keeping pace with me. And the wolf did not lean down for the killing bite. It lifted its head to stare at us for a second, then it turned and ran. The man lifted his head from the pavement to stare at us. There was blood on his arm, but he was alive. I’d done it.

  “We need to fetch help,” I said, but Theo grabbed me by the arm.

  “We need to get inside, where it’s safe,” he said firmly. “Your staff will deal with this.”

  He tugged me past the injured man and up the stairs to my house, where he shouted for help. Despite the hour, my butler appeared in seconds.

  “There’s an injured man outside,” Theo said, never taking his eyes off the man on the ground. “Send for medical help immediately. And get some footmen out there right now, before the beast comes back.”

  My butler practically saluted.

  “Yes, sir,” he said. “Right away, sir.”

  And indeed, he summoned the first two footmen, those unlucky enough to be on night duty, in only a few minutes. They rushed past us, into the street.

  “I’m going to call for a bath,” I said, pushing past Theo and heading for the stairs.

  “Lily, we need to talk,” he said, but I ignored him.

  “Deborah,” I called, banging on the door that separated my bedroom from my dressing room. She slept in a small bedchamber on the other side. After a few moments, she appeared at the door, still bleary-eyed from sleep, and with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

  “I find myself in need of your services,” I said brightly. “But first, a bath, I think.”

  “Enough!” Theo growled. “Deborah, please go back to bed. You will not be required until the morning.”

  He slammed the door in her face and turned the key.

  “Lily. Sit down and let me speak.”

  Nervously, I sank down to sit on the bed. Theo remained standing.

  “Who was that man?” I asked, unwilling to let the silence linger.

  “Henry Greenway,” Theo said, frowning. “He’s a notable collector of antiquities. Particularly the occult kind.”

  I nodded, watching his face carefully.

  “And you think that’s important,” I said.

  Theo shrugged.

  “Maybe, maybe not. But given the wolf’s interest in the library on that first night, I think we should at least consider it.”

  “Yes,” I said. “It may be an avenue worth pursuing.”

  We were enveloped by that awkward silence I had so feared. Theo stood motionless, arms folded across his chest. I could read nothing on his face. The gulf between us seemed to stretch wider and wider, pulled to breaking point, until I could take no more.

  “Theo, just end our engagement now,” I snapped. “Whatever you think you’re doing, stop it. You owe me that much. And I suppose I can only hope that you won’t hunt me down like you’ve hunted all the others.”

  Theo stared at me for a moment, his eyes wide.

  Then he did the unexpected. He reached out and pulled me close to him, tucking my head under his chin and wrapping his arms tightly around my body.

  “Oh, Lily,” he said, his voice breaking. “I can’t imagine how scared you must have been, all this time. I promise you, no matter what, I will never doubt your good heart or your love for me.”

  “But you hate witches,” I whispered. “You kill them.”

  He was silent for a moment.

  “You’ve killed witches, too,” he pointed out.

  I choked back a laugh.

  “That’s true,” I said. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  Theo sighed.

  “I won’t lie,” he said. “This will be difficult. Very difficult. But we’ve faced this before, albeit slightly differently, and I swore that I would never doubt you or abandon you again. I intend to keep that promise.”

  “You can’t mean that,” I whispered.

  He smiled, although his face was still a little sad.

  “I do mean it,” he said. “You’re still the woman I love. We’ll make this work.”

  And then he kissed me, so deeply and sweetly that I thought I might cry. Perhaps I did cry. I threw my arms around his neck, holding his body against mine as I breathed against him. His lips touched my cheek and my neck, and I could barely hold back my sobs of relief and exhaustion.

  “I love you,” I murmured against the side of his face as he slid his hands along my back. He kissed me again, harder. My shirt lifted from the waistband of the breeches, and then his warm hands were on my skin. I moaned softly against his face and let him lift me into bed.

  It was beautiful to be with Theo again - truly with him, no longer separated by secrets or fears. I slipped into sleep with a gentle smile on my face, feeling relaxed in a way I had almost forgotten.

  But that peace was not to last, for the wolf found me in my dreams.

  It stood close to me, its nose almost level with my nose. As I shifted to the side, I watched its own rough paws step in time. When it growled, I felt the rumble deep in my own chest. I reached out, hesitantly, and touched cool glass.

  The wolf was my own reflection.

  I woke with a scream.

  No More Secrets

  I awoke as dawn broke and the first of the cool winter light trickled into the room, pooling on the floor and touching the straight lines of Theo’s face. I traced the curve of his cheek with one hand as I propped myself up on my other arm. He was beautiful - and all mine. I knew I should let him sleep for a little longer, but I couldn’t resist. Leaning forward, I pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

  And in that instant of contact, another vision crashed into my mind.

  Theo lay helpless on the floor, covered in blood. There was so much blood that I could not even tell where it came from. His face creased with pain and I knew that he was injured beyond all hope.

  I pulled back with a muffled scream, falling into my own body so hard that I tumbled over and hit against the wall. No. I must not let that happen.

  Grasping Theo’s shoulders, I shook hard.

  “Theo! Wake up!”

  His eyes snapped open almost at once; the alertness of a witch hunter was apparently a hard habit to shake. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and brushing his tousled hair from his face.

  “What is it?” he asked, concern in his voice as he focused on me.

  “I had another vision,” I told him.

  That brought him sharply awake.

  “The wolf? Already? Where was it?”

  “Not quite,” I said, tugging at his arm to bring him back close to me before he rushed out of bed.

  “I didn’t see the wolf, Theo. I saw you. Injured.”

  Theo frowned at me.

  “I can look after myself, Lily. There’s no need to worry.”

  “This was real,” I said, panic rising in my chest. “I can't just forget about it. You were so badly hurt.”

  I made my decision quickly.

  “I know a safe place,” I told him. “Get dressed and I’ll take you there.”

  Theo shook his head slowly and brushed my cheek with his hand.

  “Lily, I’m fine. Maybe it was just a bad dream. Please don’t worry about me. We’ll hunt this wolf down, then everything will be normal again. You’ll see.”

  “You don’t understand,” I said, tears threatening to blur my vision. “There’s an inn. It’s safe. You have to go there, Theo. It’s a safe place for witches. They can keep you safe from the wolf.”

  Theo pulled back sharply.

  “Don’t talk nonsense,” he said, his voice a little colder than before. “I don’t need anyone to keep me safe. If anything, it’s this wolf that nee
ds protection from me.”

  “The witches there would help you,” I insisted. “They want to stop the wolf, too.”

  “Please don’t talk about it any more,” Theo said. “Now, let’s get dressed and work out what to do next.”

  He turned away from me, as if scanning the room for the clothes he had discarded the previous night. But I had already seen the tightness of his face.

  “It’s the witches, isn’t it?” I asked.

  He swung back round to look at me, his expression equal parts confused and wary. He said nothing.

  “You couldn’t bring yourself to walk into a place full of witches and magic, even if it saved your life,” I said, horrible suspicion forming into cold truth. “You hate witches. All of them.”

  Theo’s gaze slid down to rest on the sheets. His face was hidden in shadow.

  “Not all of them,” he said, a pleading note in his voice. “But don't ask something like that of me, Lily. Not yet. I love you, and I always will, but you can’t expect me to change that quickly. The only witches I’ve ever known were killers. Witches killed my parents. How can you expect me to walk into an entire den of them and consider myself safe?”

  “A den?” I said, my voice rising. “Like animals?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Theo began, but I cut him off.

  “How dare you spend the night with me like that and give me so much hope, then say such hurtful things in the morning! You aren’t talking about some abstract evil any more, Theo! You’re talking about me - and my mother.”

  Theo drew breath to reply, but a commotion in the hallway outside caught both our attention. It sounded as if someone had made it up the stairs - someone uninvited. I heard a footman shouting, as if he was trying to stop someone. Then the footsteps approached the door. Theo and I only had enough time to exchange panicked glances and grab the sheets to cover ourselves before the door burst open.

  “So you are here,” Delilah said, Marcus at her shoulder. “Don’t worry about covering up, darlings. Between the two of us, I’m sure we’ve seen it all before.”

  I gaped at her, finding myself utterly lost for words.