Shadows in the Mist

by Jeri Westerson

  “Then what does that make you?” I left him there and stalked up to the house. I was glad he didn’t follow.

  Jeff turned on a light, belatedly realizing he wasn’t wearing the trousers he was clutching. He turned his back to me and slipped them on.

  “He’s right you know,” he said softly. “I am a monster.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re a man with a…a werewolf problem.”

  He snorted and looked over his shoulder at me. “You always did see the best in people.”

  “I try.”

  “I didn’t deserve you.”

  “You screwed up, that’s for sure. But that’s over now, right? We’ve both moved on.”

  “You have.”

  He studied me for a long time. A brief look of sadness flitted across his face before he turned away and dragged himself to the kitchen. “Do you think that winged guy will follow us here?” he asked from the other room.

  I trailed him into the kitchen. “It’s protected by the Forget Me spell. And the ley lines, I think.” I got out my phone. “But I’ve got to call Ed. Tell him what’s going on.”

  Ed answered on the third ring. “I can’t talk now, Kylie. There’s been some explosions in town—”

  “I know. It was Baphomet.”

  He paused. “Baphomet.”

  “Yeah. I pissed him off, and he took it out on the town. I don’t know if anyone is hurt. It’s all my fault.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. Just shaken.”

  “Are you in a safe place?”

  “At my grandpa’s old house.”

  “Stay there then. Is there anything I should look out for? Is Baphomet coming back?”

  “I don’t know, but keep your eyes peeled, Ed. Stay safe.”

  “Okay. I have to go.”

  “Go help them.” He clicked off.

  I still couldn’t believe that a vengeful god was after me. Why I couldn’t believe that over everything else, I didn’t know. But the smoke from the explosions was drifting this way. Or I imagined it was. I thought I could smell the destruction.

  Jeff looked at me for a moment before poking his head into the old-style, rounded fridge. “You want a beer?”

  I nodded. I could sure use one.

  He twisted the tops off of two brown bottles, and handed me one. I drank a long sip of the cool liquid. Jeff leaned against the fridge, bare-chested, bare-footed, and definitely buffer than I remembered him. The advantages of being a werewolf.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said, shaking his head and looking at the floor. The gold locket glinted from his chest. “It was like I didn’t know you anymore. Like you were just…meat.”

  I shivered. “You already apologized.”

  “I thought I could beat this thing, you know.”

  “Jeff, you have to think of it like a disease, a condition that you have to learn to live with. And you’ve also got to take your medicine.”

  “My medicine,” he muttered, taking another swig of beer.

  “The wolfsbane? You should maybe take it now, since you missed a dose.”

  He ran his free hand through his shaggy blond hair. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” He opened the cupboard and took out a decorative bottle that had Seraphina’s handiwork all over it. He pulled the cork out with his teeth and spit it aside. He knocked the bottle back, drank, and made a face, before washing it all down with another swig of beer.

  “Bad, huh?”

  “Like cat piss. And worse…since now I can actually smell cat piss in every damned bush I pass.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Except it is my fault. I opened the Booke. What’s happening out there right now is all my fault.” We both heard the whine of sirens in the distance, getting closer.

  He moved fast, grabbing my shoulders. “You gotta stop blaming yourself. Anyone would have opened the book.”

  “Not anyone. I was destined to. I’m from a long line of Chosen Hosts. Back to Babylonian days.”

  “That’s still not your fault.” He drank again, and so did I. “It’s just our bad luck we were where we were. The wrong place at the wrong time. But how I wish I could go back. I’ve lost everything, haven’t I? I can’t even go back to my shop.”

  “You might. As soon as you learn to control it, you can probably live a normal life.”

  “Alone, you mean. I’m a monster, remember?”

  “I don’t know. I mean…think about it. There are probably lots of werewolves out there that no one knows about.”

  “Seriously?” He cocked his head and considered. “There might be. That’s weird to think about.”

  “Yeah. And maybe with your heightened senses, you can find them some day. Maybe even…I don’t know. Get to know them. Maybe…find a girlfriend.”

  “We can get a nice doghouse somewhere.”

  “Jeff.”

  “Sorry. Yeah, you might be right. I should stick with my own kind.”

  “I didn’t mean that. I just thought you might want to see if they were around. Get some support. Learn some tricks to keep it all under control.”

  He drank thoughtfully, one hand resting on the fridge. “I would like to go back to California,” he muttered, “but there’s also something about these woods…”

  “I don’t think you should dwell on your wilder side, Jeff.”

  He looked at me with a sour expression before tossing the empty bottle toward his recycling bin and grabbing another from the fridge. “There are…things out there, you know? Things I’ve never seen before.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He gestured with the beer bottle. “Like your friend says. I’m attuned now. I can see…things, creatures. They live here. They’ve always lived here, side by side with men. Creatures.”

  “Like…what? Fairies?”

  “I don’t know what they are. Some don’t mean any harm. But some aren’t so nice. I don’t know why exactly but I get a bad vibe from them.”

  “Erasmus never mentioned them. Did they come from the Booke?”

  “I don’t think so. My impression is…they’ve been here all along.”

  “That’s…weird.”

  “No weirder than the rest of this.”

  “I guess.” I knocked back the bottle.

  “Look, Kylie, I know I’ve got no business lecturing you about your love life—”

  I bristled. “That’s right, Jeff.”

  “But I’ve got to tell you. Do not trust that Erasmus guy.”

  “Jeff…” I sighed and retreated into the living room. The rug had been vacuumed, the sofa dusted. The pictures on the walls had been straightened and cleaned. You wouldn’t have known the place had been empty for the last twenty years.

  I sat in the rocker. I had spent many an evening on Grandpa’s lap in that very rocker, with him reading or singing to me. I looked around, hoping to see his ghostly apparition hovering in the shadows.

  Jeff stood in the archway between the living room and the foyer. “I’m not kidding, Kylie. There’s more to him than meets the eye. He’s keeping some kind of secret.”

  “I know his secrets.”

  “Oh, really? Which ones?”

  “Like the one that…well. He’s supposed to…eat my soul. Like he did for all the other Chosen Hosts.”

  His eyes widened. Maybe I should have broken that news with a little more grace. “Whoa. Christ, Kylie. Why do you let him stick around?”

  “Because he promised he wouldn’t.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I think he’s in love with me.”

  Jeff’s mouth dropped open while I clamped mine shut. It was the first time I’d said it out loud, the first time I’d allowed myself to even think it.

  Jeff trudged into the room and sat on the sofa. He sat there a long time, just looking at his beer bottle, tearing little pieces off the wet label. “And…are you in love with him?”

  “I don
’t know, Jeff.”

  “Seriously? Dude, you gotta focus on the sheriff, not the demon.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Bullshit. You know what I see? I see typical Kylie bullshit, looking for something exotic, something romantic, and not being practical.”

  “Said the guy who cheated on me multiple times.”

  Jeff took a swig from the bottle and put it down empty on the coffee table. “Yeah. Okay. But I wasn’t the only one wanting a fantasy. You did, too.”

  “I was working hard at the shop. Maybe I didn’t have time to baby you.”

  “I’m not saying it was your fault—” He put his hands up in defense. “I’m not. And not just because you have a crossbow,” he muttered the last thought. “But I’m saying that your head was not in the game. Maybe you were secretly planning to escape way before your mom got sick. Maybe you had already decided to leave long ago, open your own shop, and make your own plans without me. Because sometimes I sure felt like you were already gone.”

  I twisted the beer bottle back and forth by the neck. “You did? Really?”

  “I knew I was already losing you. And I didn’t know what to do or say.”

  I stared at the rug. He was right. Thinking about it now, I could see where I had begun to pull away. Maybe it was because of Jeff’s hijinks, but part of it had started long before that. Was it me…or was it the Booke, pulling on me from all those miles away?

  Even now, the Booke drew on me, its absence draining me. I knew it was safe, back at my shop. I knew exactly where it was. I knew it hadn’t feared Baphomet or Andras or anyone or anything. And as the days drew on, I was feeling closer and closer to it. What did that mean? Was I going to become so obsessed with it that one day I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else?

  “Kylie?” Jeff said again.

  I looked up. Blinked.

  “You’re in your own world again. This is what you used to do in our shop.”

  “I did?”

  “Yeah.”

  Oh, God. Maybe I had pushed him into someone else’s arms— No! I refused to take responsibility for that! He was a grown human being and perfectly capable of controlling himself. Except that he hadn’t.

  “I’m sorry if I did that, Jeff, but it’s no excuse for the things you did—”

  “Dude, I know. I’m owning it, okay? But you gotta own it too. Something’s up with you. Something’s always been up with you. Maybe it is that book.”

  “Maybe it has been. How the hell do I get it out of my life?”

  “It’s gotta go. You have to get rid of it, destroy it.”

  “If only we could.”

  “Your coven will find a way. They are some pretty straight-up dudes. I trust them.”

  I bit my lip. If anyone could, they could. But I couldn’t help remembering that if the Booke went, so would Erasmus.

  The demon in question was suddenly standing in the arched doorway. Even with the light on above him, he always seemed to be in shadow. “Are you ready to go home?”

  “She can stay as long as she likes,” said Jeff with just the hint of a growl to his voice.

  With narrowed eyes, Erasmus lowered into a pouncing stance. “Don’t think you can win a fight with me, dog.”

  Jeff shot to his feet.

  “Jeff! Don’t take the bait.”

  Jeff’s ears grew, and his nose took on a particularly snouty look. “Maybe you should go, Kylie. Only one monster at a time.”

  I grabbed Jeff’s hand and squeezed it until his face was normal again. “It’s going to be all right, Jeff. It will. You’re Jeff. Not anyone else.”

  He shook himself and seemed calmer. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe the coven should come here. The ley lines make it safer.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll suggest that to Doc tonight.”

  I moved away from him, but he grabbed my arm this time. “Don’t fall for his bullshit, Kylie. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Think with your head, not with your heart.”

  I nodded and gently pulled away.

  * * *

  Erasmus was quiet on the way back to the shop, searching the skies through the windshield.

  “Is Jeff really more creature than man?”

  He still hadn’t answered when I pulled up in front of my shop. “Is it such a terrible thing if he is?” he finally asked.

  “Yes! He’s human. He was born that way, lived his entire life that way.”

  “I see.” He sat for a long time, still as stone. When it looked as if he wasn’t going to reply, I got out of the car and quickly unlocked my front door.

  When I looked back, he had at least gotten out of the car, but he was still standing on the gravel outside. His long coat hung around him like a cloak.

  “Um…are you coming in?”

  “No. I think it wise I patrol tonight. See if I can’t find where Andras is hiding. If he survived his encounter with Baphomet, that is.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well…good luck.”

  He gave me a long, lingering look, then vanished in a wisp of smoke.

  * * *

  I locked up, making sure all the windows were shut and the back door was secured, before pulling out my phone. I texted everyone about what had happened tonight and recommended that we meet at my grandpa’s house tomorrow.

  There had been too many distractions, and we still had a lot to do. Like learn more about the locket. I was glad Jeff was guarding it, but I also worried about the guy. His life had changed drastically in the last week and a half, and it was a helluva thing to have to reconcile. Strangely, it seemed to have matured him like nothing else had. If he had been like this when I’d met him…

  No use thinking about that. And Erasmus was wrong. Even if Jeff was half wolf now, he was still a man. A man with a wolf problem, not a wolf with man issues.

  I checked my phone one last time for any texts and noticed I had a voicemail. I clicked on it and heard Ruth’s agitated voice on the line.

  “Kylie, it seems I have misplaced my locket that you were so admiring. It might have fallen off in your shop or in the parking area. If you would be so kind as to look for it and return it, I’d be obliged. Good night.”

  Oops. Of course, she would have noticed. How was I going to hold her off? We’d all have to come up with a plausible lie. I didn’t want to think about it now, so I trudged upstairs.

  The Booke was leaning against the wall in the stairwell. I walked past it and did my nightly routine.

  After I dressed myself in a long-sleeved pajama tee and sleep pants, I stepped toward my bedroom window to look down into the yard. A lone figure strode past my half-fence like a ghost wandering the plains. It was Erasmus, of course. I was glad he was on patrol. We had narrowly escaped with our lives tonight. I didn’t know how long our luck would hold out. Surely it was only because I had help. Other Chosen Hosts had gone it alone and look where it had gotten them.

  In bed with the lights out, I couldn’t help but think about the Booke, its presence almost palpable in the back of my mind. I could feel it on the stairs. What had made it close up and become inactive in previous centuries? Was it because the Chosen Hosts back then had captured all the baddies and sent them back? How could they have? Surely the Booke’s supply of monsters was unlimited. No, there was only one conclusion I could draw. They had died, ending the Booke’s cycle for that period. Yes, I decided with a chill in my bones, it had to have been the death of the Chosen Hosts. No wonder it had never been truly stopped for good.

  And what had killed the Chosen Hosts? Some had been killed by the creatures themselves, Erasmus had told me that. But others had either committed suicide—sacrificing themselves for the good of mankind—or been killed by Erasmus himself.

  How many Chosen Hosts had there been—Generations’ worth? Centuries’ worth?—that he’d killed, whose souls he’d eaten?

  Had it been their deaths that had closed the Booke…or their eaten souls?

  I rolled over away from th
e window and stuffed my arm under the pillow, blinking into the gloom of the bedroom. If it was their souls that triggered the closing of the Booke, then why didn’t he just eat them right away? Did they need to…ripen? Were they tastier when they’d been allowed to hunt and chase the baddies? Did Erasmus even know? Or did the Powers That Be simply tell him to wait…wait…until a time of their choosing?

  Dread made my belly squirm.

  What if they ordered him to do it now? Would he?

  I don’t know how I fell asleep amid all the thoughts whirling around in my head, but I did. But I woke in the middle of the night, eyes wide and body alert. Something was in my room.

  I opened my hand for the crossbow and it came to me. And when I quickly aimed it into the night, a hand simply pushed it out of the way.

  “It’s only me,” said Erasmus in the dark.

  “Jesus Christ,” I gasped, relief shooting through me. I lowered the crossbow and switched on the bedside lamp. “What are you sneaking around for?”

  “It’s what I do.”

  He stood at the side of my bed, looking as he always did—stern, alert, stoic. His dark clothes and his black leather duster covered him. And he was looking at me curiously, the way he always seemed to be looking at me. He said he’d never had a Chosen Host like me before. Never met one who had friends willing to help, who stood up to him toe to toe, took his amulet right off his neck, and demanded a chthonic crossbow. What weapons had these former Chosen Hosts used if not the crossbow? Spears, axes, swords?

  “Is everything all right?” I asked. “What did you find out?”

  “Nothing. I could not find him. But I sensed him. He’s still alive.”

  “That’s too bad. It would have been nice if Baphomet had taken care of at least one of our problems. Should I pray to him to do that, do you think?”

  “Don’t. And don’t mention his name again. How many times must I tell you?”

  “Sorry. Forgot.”

  He huffed a breath and then looked about the room. “Well…I’ll…let you get back to sleep.”

  Really? With all that hanging over my head. Sure. Why not?

  I rubbed my eyes and slipped back down on the bed, pulling the covers up. “Whatever.”

  But he lingered. Slowly, he leaned over, paused, then bent further to kiss me. I let him. And then I reached up, kissing him deeper.