by Mac Flynn
The witch in front of us cackled. "You won't tear from those bonds. Even your servant there cannot break them."
"He's not my servant," I snapped at her.
"Between humans and werewolves there is always a servant and a master," she scolded me. She paused and glanced over her shoulder at us. Her eyes flickered between Vincent and me. "Unless you choose to be the servant then you are the master."
"You're insane," I snapped.
She cackled. "Perhaps, but I know my place in the world."
We continued on our journey.
"What kind of bullet did you use on him?" Vincent asked me.
"A silver one," I replied.
His eyes widened. "Silver? Where'd you get that?"
"My roommate."
Our conversation was cut short by our arrival at our destination. I recognized the entrance to the cave where Glenna found us. She led us inside, but paused near the entrance to snatch up a lantern. A flick of her hands lit the oil lamp and illuminated the rough walls. Our shadow danced across the rocks as we delved into the dark depths of the system.
The cave narrowed, but continued on for another hundred feet before I noticed a glimmer of light. The tunnel opened into a domed room that was lit with a half dozen more lamps. Against the wall opposite the entrance was a bed of straw and furs. A food platter with two bowls sat near the bed. Atop the straw, curled in a piteous ball, lay the brown werewolf.
Glenna gasped and rushed towards him. She knelt by his side and touched the wound. The werewolf whimpered. Its tongue hung out and it panted. Red blood covered the straw under its arm.
Glenna spun around and glared at Vincent. "My werewolf, and you nearly killed him!"
Vincent started back. "Me? What did I do?"
"You attacked him to protect your precious little proxy!" she hissed. She whipped her head to me. Her words hissed through her lips. "And I'll do it with your own gun." The witch marched behind me and snatched my gun from its holster. She returned to stand in front of us with the weapon in her hand.
"What are you going to do?" I questioned her.
She raised the gun and pointed the barrel at me. Her lips curled back in a hideous grin. "You can't know the same pain as my werewolf, but this will hurt you."
Glenna fired the gun.
CHAPTER 9
A searing, red-hot pain stabbed my leg. I cried out in pain and writhed in my prison. The bullet hole that lay just below my right knee. The projectile had gone through my calf and exited out the other side. It was a clean wound, but a clean wound still hurt like hell.
A roar of anger echoed off the cave walls. There was a flash of shadow on my left. A dark figure stood in front of Glenna. Vincent. He stood erect and towered over the old witch. His back was turned to me, but I could see Glenna's face. Her eyes were wide and her mouth dropped open. She stumbled back and slowly shook her head.
"No, you can't! Nobody can break my hold!" she protested.
A deep, guttural growl rumbled from Vincent's throat. Glenna took a step back and raised the gun, but he knocked it aside. The weapon clattered to the ground ten feet away. Glenna stumbled over her own feet and fell back onto ground. The old woman crawled backward on her hands and rear. I felt my bonds loosen as she lost her focus on me.
The brown werewolf climbed to its feet and leapt over Glenna. It slammed its body into Vincent, and the pair flew past me. They disappeared into the darkness that lay beyond the light of the lamps.
Glenna sat up and her eyes fell on the gun. She crawled towards the weapon with only one intention. I strained against the bonds and for my efforts I felt something shatter. The shackles evaporated and I dropped to the ground. I cried out as I landed on my bad leg, but there wasn't time to complain. I limped over to the gun.
Glenna picked it up a half second before me, but I lunged at her. We tussled across the floor. Our teeth and claws dug into our hair and flesh. In the background was a mirror of our fight as werewolf fought werewolf. She kicked the bleeding hole in my leg. Pain shot up my nerves. I fell back and clutched my leg. Glenna stood and pointed the weapon at me.
From darkness came the brown werewolf. In flew uncontrollably through the air and the side of its body slammed into Glenna's front. The gun clattered to the floor as they both flew backwards into the jagged cave wall. For a moment they defied gravity before they slowly down the rough stones to the floor. A streak of red remained on the wall.
The werewolf climbed to his four feet, but Glenna didn't get up. The werewolf whimpered and nudged her with its snout. She didn't move. The trail of blood on wall behind her told me she would never whistle for the beast again.
I climbed to my feet and winced when my leg complained. Still, someone waited for me. I picked up my gun and turned towards the darkness. A shadow stumbled towards me and clutched the wall to their left. Vincent stepped into the light provided by the lamps. His hair was disheveled, but he never looked better.
I limped over to him. There were blood stains on his coat. "You okay?" I asked him.
He looked down at himself. "It's. . .I don't think it's mine." He stared past me.
I half-turned and followed his gaze. His eyes fell on the pair, master and servant. The werewolf lay down at her feet. Its snout was whetted by the tears that fell from its golden eyes. I once thought she controlled the werewolf, but no indentured beast would have mourned their master with such tears.
I closed my eyes and turned away. "Come on. Let's get out of here."
Vincent glanced between me and the scene behind me. "But-"
I shook my head. "There's nothing we can do-"
I heard a growl from behind us and spun around. The werewolf lunged at Vincent. Its long, bared teeth and outstretched claws aimed for his throat. Vincent raised his arms. I grabbed the grip of my gun and swung it forward. Two shots echoed in the cave. The werewolf dropped to the ground three feet from us. Vincent grasped my shoulders and we stepped back. We watched in horrified fascination as the werewolf writhed on the ground. Steam rose from the two bullet impact points. One of them lay over the heart.
The werewolf arched its back and spasmed a few more moments before its body collapsed onto the ground. Its head lolled to one side and its tongue hung out. The smoke from the silver bullets stopped.
My eyes widened as I watched the fur slip into its body. The muscles shrank and disappeared, leaving only a skeletal figure. The skin loosened and wrinkled. Brown hair shortened and changed to gray. In a few moments the werewolf before us was a wizened old man.
"Her. . .her servant?" Vincent whispered.
"Or her husband," I suggested. I sighed and shook my head. "Maybe it was better this way."
"Maybe. . ." Vincent replied.
"Come on. We should go," I suggested.
I turned away and limped two steps in the direction of the mouth of the cave. My companion didn't follow. I paused and half-glanced over my shoulder. Vincent stood over what remained of the werewolf. He was still, and his eyes were focused on the man's face.
"Are you coming?" I called to him.
He half-turned to me. His eyes fell on the gun in my hand. "Are those bullets meant for me?"
I raised the gun and held it in my palm. My voice was soft and my conviction uncertain. "I. . .I don't know. Maybe at the beginning, but now-" I shook my head and holstered my gun. "It doesn't matter. Let's go."
I turned away from the carnage, but Vincent grabbed my hand and spun me around to face him. My bad leg buckled beneath the spin and I would have fallen if he hadn't caught me. He pulled me against his chest and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. I placed my palms on the front of his coat and tilted my head back to look into his face.
His eyes were soft and the corners of his mouth hinted at a smile. "I know you won't believe this, but I. . .I love you." I started back. He turned his face away. "I've loved you since I first saw you outside your apartment building. That's why I took a room there. Your room."
I blinked. A red blush war
med my cheeks. "Vincent, I-"
Vincent bit his lower lip and opened his arms. "I'm. . .I'm sorry. I've tried to fight against my feelings. How could someone love me knowing I. . .I might be a monster?" He shook his head and lifted his eyes to smile at me. It was a sad smile. "But I can't anymore. I love you, and whatever happens I won't leave you."
I turned my traitorous face away from him. "W-we should get going. There's no telling what might happen if we don't get out of here."
I limped away from him for a few steps before I paused and glanced over my shoulder. He stood where I'd left him. His face was long and sad, and his eyes were downcast.
I sighed. "I'm not going to shoot you, but I might if you don't get your butt moving. I don't want to leave you, either."
Vincent's eyes widened. A smile slipped onto his lips and his emerald eyes shone in the weak light. He gave a nod. "Right."
He hurried over to my side. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "I'll never understand men. . ." I muttered as we made our way out of the cave.
CHAPTER 10
Halfway to the entrance I topped and leaned against the wall. I clutched my chest and panted. The pain crawled up and down my leg. Blood dripped from the wound. Vincent moved to stand beside me.
"Let me carry you," he offered.
I snorted and righted myself. "You're better off leaving me behind."
I gasped as Vincent stooped and scooped me into his arms. My side pressed against his hard chest and his thick coat was warm to the touch. I looked up into his emerald green eyes, and he smiled down at me.
"I'll never leave you, remember?" he reminded me.
A blush came to my cheeks. I shook my head and turned away. "Fine, but you're going to have to carry both me and the food."
He chuckled. "I think I can manage."
Vincent carried me back to the witch's house. Everything was as we left it, but the cabin had an air of coldness that wasn't there before. I told myself it was because the fire had gone out, but a voice inside me couldn't help but wonder if the home itself knew its owner was dead.
Vincent set me on the bed and knelt in front of me. He rolled my pant leg up. I winced as the roll passed over the wound. His eyebrows crashed down as he glimpsed the hole.
"This isn't good," he commented.
Sweat streamed down my temples, but I managed a smile. "Yeah, I'm running out of shirt."
Vincent unwrapped his fingers and placed the strips over my wound. A hiss escaped my pursed lips. He stood and stepped back.
"Sorry," he apologized.
I gingerly rubbed the wrapped wound. The blood had stopped, but the ache was still there. "This time I'll accept it," I replied.
Vincent turned away and gathered our canned foods. He perused the assortment of herbs on the shelf. The familiar varieties were placed in the blanket. Others were left to rot.
Vincent paused in front of a particular area. His back was turned to me and his wide coat blocked my view so that I couldn't see what he took from the shelf. I didn't see him replace the item back on the shelf, but neither did I see him put whatever he took in his pocket. He closed the makeshift sack and turned to me.
"This should do it," he told me.
My eyes flickered to the shelf. There were too many empty spots to determine what he took. "You sure you can carry that and me?"
He sheepishly grinned. "No, but I hope the next town isn't too far away."
I hopped off the bed and landed on my good leg. The stick for the hearth leaned against the chimney near me. I limped over and snatched the stick. A simple test of my weight against its length told me it would hold. "I'll walk as far as I can, and then you can carry me."
Vincent frowned. "But we won't get very-"
"Stop talking and start walking!" I snapped.
I hobbled past him and out the door. There was a sigh and Vincent followed. I limped to the start of the trail and paused. A fresh wind blew my hair back, and I tilted my head back.
The sky above us cleared as the remnants of the storm were swept away by the gentle breeze. I closed my eyes and sighed.
"Still no answers. . ." I whispered.
"Pardon?" Vincent asked me.
I shook my head and opened my eyes. "Nothing. Let's go."
And onward we traveled to what Fate had in store for us.
Fate was quick to intervene on our hike. Ten yards up the trail I froze. Someone stood in the middle of the path five yards from us. Their wizened back was bent, and blood poured down their forehead. The life fluid dripped off their chin and pooled between their feet. Their arms hung limp by their sides and their clothes were covered in dust and a darker color of blood.
Vincent sidled up beside me. "Leila, what's-" His eyes, too, fell on the figure and widened.
A crooked smirk slid onto her cracked lips. "You think. . .you can just. . .leave here?" Glenna gasped.
Vincent stepped forward and stretched his arm out in front of me. His eyes narrowed and he ground his teeth together. "Leila, get back," he ordered me.
I frowned. "I'm not leaving you."
"If I'm really a werewolf than I have a better chance of beating her," he pointed out.
Glenna's smirk slid off her lips. "Neither of you are leaving here alive. You stole my precious pet! My only companion!"
"It was just a servant, remember?" I snapped.
Her dark eyes fell on me. Their depths glowed an unnatural purple. An aura of purple light appeared around her. She straightened a little and pointed a finger at me.
"You. It was you who killed him."
"She was only protecting me!" Vincent spoke up. He moved in front of me and blocked most of my view of Glenna. "So that means your fight is with me!"
Glenna nodded. Her eyes never left me. "That's fine. A fitting punishment is a slow, painful death."
The light around her focused in her hand that pointed at me. The brilliance forced me to raise my arm over my eyes. Glenna's face twisted into a hideous grin as her eyes widened.
"For my love!" she shouted.
The energy in her hand burst forward like a bullet from a gun. The beam of light sped across the ground. Vincent stepped in its path.
At the last moment I shoved him away.
The blast hit me in the chest. I was knocked off my feet and flew back five feet. The slick ground meant I slid another yard before I came to a stop in a clump of brush.
"Leila!" Vincent screamed.
The world was a blur of grays and blacks. I couldn't make out anything but shadows. My ears rang and my body was sluggish. I could barely lift my head as Vincent slid on the ground beside me.
He wrapped me in his arms and raised me to a seated position. His worried eyes looked me over. "Leila, are you all right?"
Tears pooled in my eyes. I reached up and cupped his cheek. "Dummy. . ." I whispered.
A wild laugh broke the calm night air. "Now you'll know the pain of losing her as I've lost my love, but so much more slowly!" Glenna cackled.
Vincent closed his eyes. He set me gently on the ground. "Leila, stay here," he ordered me.
"No," I croaked.
I leaned forward and reached for his hand. He stood and turned away from me. My fingers brushed against his palm, but couldn't catch him. He strode down the path halfway to Glenna and stood with his back to me. I couldn't hold my head up any longer, but my eyes never left Vincent.
The pain from my leg injury and the blast made it hard for me to focus. My eyesight faded, as did the sounds around me. Darkness sank into my sight, starting from my peripheral and edging towards the center of my vision.
Vincent's figure became a black blur, and Glenna a shadow. His figure grew in size so that he stood a foot taller than I remember. Vincent's coat billowed around him and his long arms hung by his sides. His hand whipped out and grasped Glenna around the neck. He lifted her off the ground.
I focused what remained of my ebbing strength and stretched out my hand to him. "Vincent," I croaked. My voice sounded faint t
o my fading ears. "Vincent, no."
Vincent turned towards me. His figure was no longer black, but gray. I couldn't make out the details, but he'd changed.
Tears streamed down my cheeks. My hand dropped to my side as I lost consciousness.
For all books by Mac Flynn visit her author's page or visit Mac Flynn's website.
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