Elinore glanced around at the other servants and Mrs. Thistlewaite, her eyes resting on Alice - her young face ghostly pale. Elinore’s eyes darted past them to something they were standing in front of, something on the ground just outside the door. Something… bloody. Her eyes again roved over the servants, Mrs. Davenport and Mrs. Thistlewaite. They all carried some kind of weapon, it seemed. Silver, if Elinore’s eyesight was correct. She nodded once and took a deep breath. I am the mistress of Ravenwood, she reminded herself.
“Let us speak frankly,” she said. The male servants looked to Mrs. Davenport and Mrs. Thistlewaite first and then back at Elinore. “I see blood behind you on the ground. I can only hope at this moment that it does not belong to any of the human souls inhabiting Ravenwood.”
“No, miss,” said Jonah. Now that Elinore was of calmer heart and mind, she recognized his face in the dark light of the kitchen.
“All right,” Elinore said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nerves. “Let us have a look.”
“The omega’s never killed this close to the manor,” Alice spoke, breaking the silence with her youth and temerity on her side.
The men parted and Mrs. Davenport and Mrs. Thistlewaite moved off to the side and Elinore had her first look at the new kill of the omega.
She was glad dinner had been several hours ago, for her stomach turned at the site. She raised a hand to her throat as though its presence could keep her dinner down, should it still decide to make a return trip. “Is that… was that a horse?” she asked. To be truthful, she could not tell, but she didn’t know of any animals large enough on the estate to leave such a sizable corpse.
“Yes, miss,” one of the servants said, a footman. Stefan, if Elinore wasn’t mistaken. “One of Mr. Caleb’s. He took his regular mount, January Moon, with him when he left. This is one of his other favorites, Storm Cloud.”
Elinore’s heart lurched. Not beautiful Storm, the lovely grey horse Elinore had met in the stables. Elinore thought on her soft snout and gentle eyes. Her throat clenched and tears sprung to her eyes. Oh, poor beast. Elinore hoped her death had been quick. What was left was… horrid. Blood, bone, muscle and… other things Elinore did not have the proper names for were mashed, barely recognizable.
“Oh, Storm,” Elinore murmured, taking a step closer. “And so close to the manor.” A hand stopped her from moving further and she looked down to see Stefan’s hand on her arm.
“You’re still barefoot, miss. Best not get too close.”
Her lips tight, she nodded her thanks. “Is this the only… carnage?”
Another man, whose name Elinore did not know, spoke up. “We’ve not yet checked the stables. We heard the scream and came running.”
“I was sneaking a biscuit and thought I heard something,” said Alice. “I opened the back door and found…this.”
“Thank God you were not harmed,” Elinore replied quickly. To think of Alice so close to the creature that had done this… she shook her head. “This is far more savage than the blood I saw by the stables the other day.”
“Aye, miss,” said Jonah. “It’s getting worse.”
Elinore nodded solemnly, her eyes still transfixed by the ruin of a creature in front of her.
“Will it go after people next, do you think?” Alice’s voice was small, nothing at all compared to the boisterous young girl to which Elinore was accustomed. The silence after Alice’s question was pregnant and Elinore belatedly realized that Alice had been asking her, asking Elinore. She tore her eyes away from the carnage and found the servants and the elder women all staring at her as well. I am the mistress of Ravenwood, she repeated to herself, hoping to imbue her words with the confidence she currently lacked.
“No. You are quite safe, Alice. This… feral creature shall not harm anyone or anything else at Ravenwood.” As she spoke the words she felt them come to rest in her breastbone. They would be true. She would help make them true. “We must have this cleaned up before the rest of the house comes down and sees it. It is too horrible and shocking.”
“Most of the help know about… the afflictions of the family,” Mrs. Davenport said carefully.
“That’s good to know,” Elinore replied, “but I’m more concerned that seeing this horror will frighten and worry them unduly.”
“Begging your pardon, miss,” Stefan said, “we can’t get much more worried than we are.”
Elinore took time to look at each person individually and then nodded again. “Still, I would like to spare anyone seeing this if possible.” She took a deep, steadying breath and looked to Jonah, who appeared to be the leader of the men. “What must we do to clean this up? I’m afraid I’m not well schooled in matters such as this.”
“The men and I can take care of it.”
Elinore jutted her chin out. “I’m sure you can, but I insist on helping. I won’t leave you to do this wretched work alone.”
Jonah looked torn, exchanging a wary glance with one of the other men and then with Mrs. Davenport and Mrs. Thistlewaite. “Miss, it’s indelicate work.”
Elinore eyed the carnage. “I’m sure it is. We best get started.” She would not be dissuaded. After another look exchanged with the men folk, Jonah nodded and gave instructions. They would need wheelbarrows, some shovels, hay, and water from the kitchen. Jonah suggested Elinore work on gathering buckets of water.
“We shall help you, dear,” Mrs. Davenport said, her voice steely as she rested a hand on Elinore’s arm. Elinore felt a surge of gratitude flow through her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Davenport, Mrs. Thistlewaite, Alice,” Elinore replied, inclining her head at each woman. They set to work.
It was gruesome and grisly, but within two hours they had done the best they could. A large rust-colored stain still permeated the area, but there was nothing to be done for it; nothing but time and weather. The men had taken the carcass into the woods and buried it , Elinore presumed, seeing them return sweaty and dirty. Elinore paused. If she listened carefully, she could hear the horses in the stables, whinnying and neighing.
“The other horses sound distressed,” she said.
If the men were surprised she could hear so far away, they hid it well. Stefan nodded. “Aye, miss. That damned wolf’s scent is in the air, I reckon. And the horses can smell the death.”
“I see.” Elinore looked over the exhausted servants. “Mrs. Thistlewaite, I gather you are probably quite tired, but if you wouldn’t mind, would it be possible to fix us all something quick for breakfast? Eggs, bread, maybe some ham if you have it. I can assist if you require.”
Mrs. Thistlewaite looked as though any indication she would not be up to the task was an affront on her honor. “Not necessary, dear. This way, lads.”
The men followed Mrs. Thistlewaite in the way men often do when confronted by the authoritative tone of an older woman - like school boys, tossing down their weapons outside, shuffling their feet quickly at the mat at the door and then taking their boots off in deference to Mrs. Thistlewaite’s kitchen. Alice opened her mouth as though she might say something to Elinore, but was cut off by her mother ordering her inside to brew coffee and tea for the crew. Elinore was left standing outside the manor with Mrs. Davenport.
“I do hope young Mr. Vollmond returns quickly with the elder Mr. Vollmond,” she said, keeping her voice quiet. “The omega has never struck so close to the manor before. It must be because it knows they’re gone.”
Perhaps, thought Elinore. At least Ravenwood wasn’t entirely without a wolf on watch. She may not be a full wolf, but she had slightly enhanced senses. Her eyes scanned the forest. There was something out there, right now. She could feel it. Whether it was her animal sense or just paranoia, she wasn’t sure. Then she realized what it was that drew her eye and roused her suspicions. Ravens. An unkindness of them circling over the trees just past the start of the forest. She recalled Caleb’s words on the birds - how they were companions to them. To wolves.
“Mrs. Davenport, I’m going t
o take a walk closer to the trees.” Elinore kept her eyes on the forest as she spoke, not wanting to break her gaze.
“Oh, miss,” Mrs. Davenport said, putting a hand on Elinore’s arm. “You should come inside the manor. We’d all best stay inside until the Vollmonds return, I think.”
“I shall be quite fine,” Elinore replied, looking at Mrs. Davenport. “I wager I’m quite a bit faster now than I used to be.” Lord, perhaps the bite had driven her crazy if she was standing in the sharp morning air making a joke at possibly becoming a werewolf. “I don’t intend to go in the forest, I merely… want to get a closer look.”
Mrs. Davenport worried her lip between her teeth and then glanced at the trove of weapons the men had left. She snatched up a large axe and held it out to Elinore.
“Good heavens, I may cleave my toes off with that by accident.”
Mrs. Davenport eyeballed the large blade. “It is rather vulgar isn’t it? Men and their tools. Always wanting the biggest. Probably to compensate. Though I don’t suppose Mr. Vollmond the younger has much to worry about it that department.” She gave Elinore a significant look.
“Mrs. Davenport!” Elinore exclaimed, blushing furiously.
“I was young once and I’ve still got eyes. I know what goes on in the chambers of Ravenwood,” she replied, winking. She seemed wholly unconcerned that Elinore and Caleb were not betrothed nor even overly familiar with one another. She set the large axe off to the side and picked up a bat with spikes coming out of it, swinging it lightly, testing its weight. “How about this one? Mr. Vollmond the elder controls all the silver at Ravenwood, so it’s only made of iron, but it could deliver a strong blow.”
Elinore supposed it would do. She took the bat and hefted it in her hand. Yes, she supposed she could swing it well enough to defend herself if necessary. She dearly hoped it would not be necessary. Though she was sure she could swing it and hit a target, she wasn’t sure how many hits would be required. Nor the amount of… mess it would make.
“Be careful, dear,” Mrs. Davenport warned.
“Thank you, Mrs. Davenport. I’m sure I’ll be fine, but just in case, if you should hear me scream or shout… send someone with a gun. Or that large axe.”
The housekeeper nodded. She took a watchful stance by the back door as Elinore made her way across the grounds. It occurred to her only as she felt the chill seep into her toes that she was still barefoot, having not taken the time to don boots before coming down when she heard the scream. It couldn’t be helped now. She could feel that something, perhaps someone, was watching from the forest, waiting. She should be more frightened than she was, Elinore supposed. She was wary, and on alert - and afraid, but she wasn’t about to turn around and run away screaming.
She felt colder as her distance from Ravenwood Manor grew. Logically, she knew it must only be so in her mind. Surely there was no temperature gradient between the manor and the forest. The morning air was crisp and sharp, but it wasn’t bitingly cold. She clutched her robe tighter around herself. What was she thinking, coming out here like this? Her toes were numb with the wet dew and chilly morning. Elinore glanced over her shoulder and saw Mrs. Davenport in the distance, still standing like a sentinel at the back door.
Finally at the edge of the trees, Elinore paused. She looked up to the sky. The ravens still circled and one of them squawked. As if sensing her, a pair of birds swooped toward her - one came to rest near her feet, the other remained flitting and flying near her head for a moment before finally settling on her shoulder. Its weight felt like a cloak of armor, covering her with confidence and courage.
“I didn’t kill the horse.”
The soft voice seemed to come from the forest itself and Elinore’s heart beat madly in response. She didn’t think the person, the man, was all that close to her, but he was near enough that Elinore could make his words out. She turned her head slightly to the trees.
“Who are you?” Elinore asked. She kept her own voice equally low. If she could hear the person in the woods, they could certainly hear her.
Ignoring her question, the voice continued, “I wasn’t sure if anyone would speak to me or if you would kill me on sight.”
Elinore glanced down at the bat in her hands, squeezing her hand around it. “If you threaten me, perhaps I will.” She was quite proud of how firm and even her voice sounded. “Are you the omega wolf?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been killing animals.”
“No. I told you I didn’t kill that horse nor any of the other animals.”
Elinore narrowed her eyes, peering into the woods. “And you expect me to believe you?”
“No.”
“Then it seems we are at an impasse.”
There was a pause from the forest, for so long that Elinore thought perhaps he’d left or was readying to pounce on her. She was listening so carefully for footsteps coming closer that when he did speak, though his voice was still low and soft, she flinched.
“Your Alpha, the older man. Where is he now?”
“He’s not my Alpha,” Elinore replied quickly. Why she should feel the need to make that clear to a strange voice in the woods, Elinore wasn’t sure.
“He bit you. He’s your Alpha.”
“No,” Elinore said, a sinking sensation in her stomach. “You bit me. I was bitten by a feral wolf. A feral omega.”
“You may have been bitten by a feral wolf, but it was not me.”
“You’re lying,” she replied quickly, but realization was spreading in her like a dark and horrible sickness. Hayter. Hayter’s lingering closeness, Hayter’s overfamiliarity. Hayter had been the one to insist she travel on the night of the full moon. Hayter, Hayter, Hayter. Of course.
There was a rustle in the woods followed by strange and horrible sounds. Clicking and popping. Then something that sounded like taffy being stretched - wet and thick. Elinore stumbled backwards, clutching the bat tightly. The horrid sounds stopped and were followed by footsteps. Footsteps coming toward her. No, not footsteps. Animal steps.
A wolf moved behind the foliage, where Elinore would be able to see it. From where it stood, it would still be hidden from Mrs. Davenport. Before her stood the same wolf that Elinore had seen once before, watching her from the woods. When she’d mentioned it to Caleb, he’d indicated it had been Hayter, and she’d taken Caleb at his word. Now, however, hearing the voice of the omega and seeing the wolf before her, she knew this wasn’t the wolf that bit her. And if this wolf before her now, was the omega, then it must have been Hayter who’d sunk his sharp teeth so deeply in her arm. Hayter had been the wolf that stalked her in the dark forest. This wolf, the one before her now had been the one that chased Hayter off. Indeed, she owed this wolf a debt. She took a step forward and the wolf moved away, back into the dense trees. Again, Elinore heard the awful wet clicking and popping. Her mind whirred. What were those sounds?
Her breath caught. They were the sounds of him shifting. Of his body transforming from a human to a wolf and then back again. It sounded excruciating to her ears, but he made no sound. No cries nor whimpers.
“Do you believe me now?” came the soft voice again.
“Why are you here?” she countered, unable to voice her answer to his question.
“Miss Reed? Are you all right?”
Elinore spun around to see Mrs. Davenport taking a few steps away from the manor, hesitant, but holding strong to the axe to come to Elinore’s aid if necessary. Elinore held up a hand and gave what she hoped was an assuring wave and the older woman stopped her advance, moving back toward the manor. Elinore turned back to the forest in time to see the unkindness of ravens above the canopy of trees fly up to the sky, a flurry of wings and black shapes. They moved as one, flying further into the forest. The two ravens remaining next to Elinore, the one on her shoulder and the one by her feet, stayed a moment longer before flapping their wings madly and joining their brethren. The forest was silent. The omega was gone.
Chapter Eighteen<
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Neither Caleb nor Hayter had returned by nightfall. The long day left Elinore with far too much time to ruminate on what the omega wolf had told her and she now feared for Caleb’s safety more so than before. She had not liked the idea of Caleb going after Hayter, but it had seemed a wise choice at the time. Now… Elinore stayed busy throughout the day assisting the staff of Ravenwood with their duties, feeling as though she had to be a constant, calm presence for them, but her mind churned with thoughts of Caleb finding Hayter - perhaps as some savage, feral beast.
Elinore recalled the animal that bit her in the woods. She could not reconcile the creature that bit her with a human being, not even Hayter. She could easily reconcile the idea of Caleb with that of the black wolf - both quiet, unobtrusive creatures. But the animal that had bit her had been demonic. A hellhound. Mad yellow eyes, slavering jaws, sharp teeth. Her arm ached with the sense memory of being bitten, of feeling teeth sink into her flesh and pull. God, the pull of those teeth against her flesh had been nausea-inducing. She’d stabbed the wolf. She’d shot it. Had Hayter appeared injured when she first met him? At all? Would she have known if he had been hurt? Caleb said wounds from silver took longer to heal. How much longer? Would Caleb have known if Hayter had been injured?
Another thought batted against the confines of her mind, like a hurricane trapped in a bottle - swirling and crashing against the perimeter, lashing out fast and violent. Did Caleb know Hayter was the one that bit her?
Elinore dismissed the thought. No, Caleb must not know his uncle was the one that bit her, nor the one that was terrorizing the countryside killing animals and driving fear into the residents. That left Elinore in an uncomfortable position - to be the one to tell Caleb that his uncle was possibly entirely mad. She did not relish the thought. She thought back on how Caleb had spoken of his family, how he’d articulated that his uncle was all he had left. Could she be the one to take that from him? Did she have a choice? Hayter could not be allowed to continue as he had been. As Elinore understood it, his attacks were growing more savage and she feared it was only a matter of time before Hayter turned his attentions to human prey. What then?
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