Dark Gift

by Kim Richardson

  I barely had time to scramble away as one of Tyrius’s front paws swiped in my direction, his nails tearing a chunk out of my leather jacket.

  I pushed to my feet just as the red wolf smashed into me. I felt one of my ribs crack and then I was on my back again, the wolf pinning me to the floor. Fear stabbed deep as a great, wet maw went for my neck. I thrashed under its weight, barely moving as the wolf grabbed hold of my arm with its jaw.

  “Let go, you stupid dog!” I shouted. Now I was pissed. I wasn’t worried about the werewolf virus because I was pretty sure I was immune to it. But I didn’t want to get mauled to death either.

  Making a fist, I smashed it into the side of the wolf’s head. He yelped and let go, his teeth raking my arm and sending a pulse of pain through me. The other darker wolf just stood there, waiting for scraps. I could hear thumps and cries in the background. Tyrius was still fighting.

  The red wolf was back, snarling and more savage. I didn’t want to kill any of the wolves. I knew the kind of shit storm that would follow if I did. But it wasn’t like they were giving me any choice in the matter.

  The red wolf lunged. I twisted but not fast enough. It latched on to my shoulder and picked me up, shaking me. My shoulder muscles tore under the wolf’s strong grip. Okay, so it was stronger than I thought. I had not expected that.

  With brute force, the wolf threw me across the room. I hit the wall and slid to the ground. “I really should have stayed home,” I wheezed, trying to get some air into my lungs.

  Panting, I rolled over and got to my feet, still on an adrenaline rush the size of the Hudson River. My anger, my fear, and my shame wouldn’t be denied.

  “Come on, Red,” I yelled, as a mixture of fear and fury slipped into me. “Stop playing around like a pup and fight like a real wolf.”

  Red growled, promising me pain.

  “Take your best shot, you stinking mutt,” I barked.

  The red wolf lunged, the cracked and shattered tiles spurting out behind it.

  Holy hell. I was in trouble.

  I shifted directions erratically, zigzagging across the room with my boots slipping on the smooth surface. But my dancing skills were nothing compared to the pace of the wolf coming at me.

  A massive paw hit me and I went sprawling. My pulse raced as I rolled, my spine protesting as I clambered back. My only goal was to stay out from between his teeth as I smelled and felt the hot sour dog breath when the wolf tried to bite me. On my back, I kicked out and punched. Satisfied when I heard a whimper, I struggled to my feet.

  A small cry escaped me when I was met with the darker wolf. I backpedaled, but I might as well have just stood there.

  Excruciating pain flamed through me as its massive maw gripped my neck and shook me. Agony seared me and I could barely breathe. I all but panicked as I felt its jaws clamping down on my throat. I dropped my soul blade, my fingers reaching in and getting sliced on the sharp canines as I tried to pry its jaw open. It didn’t work.

  The wolf shook me again, its strength terrifying. My spine felt like it was on fire, bones like rubber. Pain clouded my thoughts. More panic welled in me. I would not die. Not like this.

  Determination boiled in me. So I did the only thing I could do. I jabbed my finger in its eye.

  Not only did the wolf let go, but that was seriously nasty.

  I fell to my knees, my hand going to my neck and feeling the large gash with wet blood trickling down. The wolf shook its head, its eyes watering. And now I had two seriously pissed off wolves watching me as they lowered to an attack stance.

  Okay, now I was going to die.

  “Rowyn!” someone cried, and I got to my feet, shaking. “Rowyn! Get down!”

  Then I saw Gareth brush past me, pushing me down as he hurtled himself into the fight an instant before the wolves attacked again.

  Drawing his hand from his jacket, he flung it out and screamed, “Vus ardeat!” Navy colored dust roared forth from his outstretched fingers.

  The cloud of dust settled on the werewolves and Tyrius. There was a clap like thunder, and the werewolves backed off with high-pitched whimpers and frightened growls. Their bodies thrashed as though something was burning them from the inside.

  And then one after another the werewolves staggered and fell, collapsing on the smooth floor, and were still.

  I stared in horror at the black panther that lay next to the werewolf it had been fighting. Tyrius wasn’t moving.

  “Tyrius!” I shouted, staggering forward like a drunken fool until Gareth held me upright.

  “He’s fine,” soothed the elf, panting.

  I yanked out of his grip. “What did you do to him?”

  Gareth gripped me by the shoulders and pulled me around to face him. “Calm down,” he ordered, his eyes searching my face. “He’s sleeping. They’re all sleeping. They’re fine. I promise.”

  “Sleeping?” I repeated, sounding stupid.

  Seeing that I’d calmed myself, Gareth let me go. “He’s fine. They all are. I hit them with a sleeping spell. A very strong one. They’ll be out for a few hours.”

  I moved away from Gareth and stood over Tyrius, my eyes traveling over his silky black fur. Sure enough, I saw his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. And only then did I let myself relax a little. Thank the souls.

  Gareth’s eyes widened when he saw my neck. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, reaching a hand to my neck. My fingers came away sticky with blood. “I think I might need stitches.” I knew I could wake up Pam, but I’d have to wait for Tyrius to change back to his Siamese self before I could move him.

  Panting, and shaking from the spent energy rush, I looked at the elf. “I couldn’t do it,” I said, my voice tight. “I couldn’t kill him.”

  “I know it must have been a tough decision,” said Gareth, though I heard the satisfaction in his voice. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

  I opened and closed my mouth. I hadn’t killed the werewolf, but in doing so, I had killed my grandmother.

  Gareth read the expression on my face. He looked at me for a moment and said, “Lisbeth won’t know about your attempt until later this morning when the werewolves wake up. There’s still time to figure something out for your grandmother.”

  “Yeah?” I swallowed. “Like what.”

  “I have a cabin up in Maine,” said the elf, surprising me. “It’s not much, but it’s off the grid and should keep her and you safe for a while.”

  “A cabin? You have a cabin—”

  Something big and black brushed by me like a rocket, knocking me into the nearby metal table. A wash of pain surged inside me and I heard my upper left arm crack. I slipped to the floor. Gritting my teeth in pain I turned my head just as a giant black wolf jumped on Gareth, pinning him to the ground.

  Two things occurred to me at the same time. First, the black wolf was Steven who’d broken free from my paralyzing spell, and two, my left arm was broken.

  Wincing, I pushed myself up with my right arm, the pain making me dizzy as I staggered forward.

  “Steven! Stop! Don’t do this!” I cried, but the black wolf kept snapping its powerful jaws at Gareth. Its strength was frightening, and it was a miracle that Gareth held up the wolf’s muzzle without getting bit.

  At that moment, I knew why Steven was the alpha. He was huge. Bigger than the other wolves by nearly double. He was a monster wolf.

  And Gareth didn’t stand a chance.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  The black wolf didn’t stop snapping its jaws and clawing at Gareth’s chest. The only thing keeping him from bleeding out and being ripped to shreds was his thick coat. I didn’t think elves were immune to the werewolf virus. If Gareth was bitten...

  Damn it all to the Netherworld and back. I should have stayed home.

  With my left arm hanging uselessly at my side, I shuffled forward and grabbed a long medical instrument that looked like small crowbar from the table. My vision blurred from the gut-wrenching
pain in my left arm as I made my way towards the wolf.

  “Steven, stop!” I howled as I hit the wolf with the metal bar. I hit him again. And again as hard I could without toppling over. “Your pack are just sleeping! They’re not hurt!” But the wolf never stopped thrashing madly over Gareth. I wasn’t even sure if he heard me.

  I dropped the metal pole and hurled myself over the big wolf. My entire body spasmed in pain as I reached over, grabbed a fistful of his ear and yanked.

  The black wolf growled and smacked me hard with his paw, sending me sprawling to the ground, on my left side. Tears welled at the pain in my arm.

  Gareth turned his head from the wolf’s jaws, his face contorted in exertion and terror. I saw real fear in his eyes. The wolf’s lips brushed against Gareth’s face. The wolf was going to kill him.

  My heart thrashed in my chest. Forgetting my pains, I struggled to my feet. I suddenly remembered that I’d packed a hunting knife. I yanked it out of my weapons belt and threw myself on top of the wolf again, face first into a fluff of black fur. I tried hard not to think of the smell as I struggled to stay on the moving beast. Wincing as I held on with my thighs and right arm and straining with effort, I climbed over the big beast.

  Still shaking, I gripped the knife in my trembling hand and held it above the wolf’s head.

  “Steven, please,” I begged. “Stop.” But the wolf only seemed to get angrier, wilder as he pushed down on Gareth’s hold, teeth grazing his neck.

  Souls forgive me.

  Pulse racing, I drove my knife down into the wolf’s skull.

  The hunting knife slipped from my hand as the big wolf went limp.

  I stared in abrupt shock as I slid off the wolf’s back and fell to the floor on my ass.

  Gareth lay still for a moment and then, grunting with effort, he pushed the big wolf off of him and dragged himself on the floor next to me. His eyes were wide and his dark hair tousled. He’d lost his hat in the struggle and I could see pointed ears peeking through his thick hair. So he did have those.

  Neither of us said anything for a while as we sat on the floor, staring at the dead alpha wolf.

  In the end, I had changed my mind about killing the wolf. But it wouldn’t make a difference now.

  Steven Price was dead. And I had killed him.

  10

  Turns out, Gareth was skilled at stitches and he’d done a meticulous job at fixing my neck. The stitches were so fine I didn’t even think they’d leave much of a noticeable scar. He’d also wrapped my left arm in a brace. I could heal broken bones faster than humans, but I still needed time for the actual healing to work. And I still couldn’t move that arm, at least not yet.

  Gareth and I had waited in the body storage room for Tyrius to change back to his smaller self, though still asleep, which had taken about a half-hour after Gareth had cast the spell. Then, I cradled my friend using only my right arm and took him to my Subaru. We followed Gareth back to his place, which turned out to be a large two-bedroom apartment above his shop, TWILIGHT NATURAL MEDICINE.

  In addition to being meticulously clean, Gareth’s store was packed with medicinal herbs, roots, magical ingredients, and more dangerous and deadly plants. At the opposite end of the shop was a door that led to his apartment upstairs.

  The elf had given me a large glass of red wine once he was done with the stitches, which I was extremely grateful for. I sat at his kitchen table, admiring how clean the upstairs was as well. It didn’t have the modern feel of his downstairs shop but was furnished with more big pieces of crafted wood and plush Persian rugs. It felt more like a cottage, which really fit with the exterior of the house. It was cozy, and I felt myself relax as I gulped down my wine. Yum.

  “Would you like some more?” asked the elf. He didn’t wait for my answer as he poured another generous portion into my empty glass.

  “Thank you,” I answered, looking at the label. “Mouton Cadet. I don’t know this wine, but it’s very good.”

  “It’s French, and very reasonably priced,” said the elf as he poured himself some and set the bottle on the kitchen table. He moved back to the kitchen, grabbed a platter of cheese with crackers that would have had Tyrius doing cartwheels, and set it on the table between us. Then he set down a bowl filled with Kalamata olives and finally pulled out a chair to settle himself next to me.

  We’d barely spoken since he led me upstairs to his place. I knew he was thinking about what had happened, and I felt a wash of guilt hit me.

  My eyes moved over to the brown leather couch. Tyrius was curled into a ball, snoring lightly in the folds of the cushions. I knew he’d probably be pissed off he missed everything. But he’d be more disturbed when I told him I had changed my mind, but had to kill the werewolf to save Gareth.

  “I’m sorry,” I exhaled looking back at the elf. “I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry you got involved in this crap because of me.”

  Gareth stared at his wine glass. “I’m sorry too.” He sighed. “You tried. But the wolf couldn’t let go of his killing, protective instinct. He saw us as a threat. Thought we’d killed his pack. He was only doing what alphas are programed to do—protect his pack.”

  My throat throbbed. “Steven Price was a good guy. A really good guy. And I’m the asshole who killed him.” I took another gulp of wine, feeling the effects of the lovely substance making my head lighter.

  “If you want to blame anyone,” said the elf, his jaw clenching, “you should blame Lisbeth.”

  “I do,” I said, clamping my teeth as I forced myself to relax. “But I’m to blame too. I should have listened to you. I should have listened to my gut.” I met the elf’s eyes. They seemed darker in the dimly lit kitchen. He’d taken off his coat and sat in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, which revealed a wonderfully trim body. But he’d kept his hat on.

  “You can take your hat off.” I smiled, rolling my eyes over the dark fedora. “I’ve seen your ears already.”

  Gareth smiled and his face darkened by a shade. “It’s a habit.” He grabbed his hat and set it on the table next to his glass. “I don’t have to waste energy on glamouring them when I’m here.”

  “Do you ever not wear it? And freak out the humans just for fun?”

  “Halloween. I’ve been Legolas Greenleaf for twenty years,” he said, making me laugh. Gareth tossed his hair from his eyes and pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing a compact and muscled forearm.

  It was hard not to stare at his face. I’d seen his ears before and his thick, tousled hair that was long enough to make me want to run my fingers through it. The tips of his ears were pointy and very similar to the elves’ ears in The Lord of the Rings movies. But without the hat transforming his face, I could finally see his face, and it was a very lovely one.

  He had a nice straight nose and perfectly shaped lips. It didn’t hold the eerie beauty of the vampire Danto’s face or the ridiculously beautiful model-type of Jax’s face, yet the rugged edges and the shadow of a week’s old stubble were pleasing to look at. This was a real, rugged, and manly face. Every inch of his jaw, the frame of his face and cheekbones, the thickness of his neck, all depicted strength and virility—and that was very sexy.

  Gareth caught me staring for a tad too long, and I quickly grabbed a slice of cheese with my right hand and shoved it in my mouth. Wow. That was good.

  “Why did you move out here?” I asked between chews, realizing I was starving and wanting to change the subject before the wine made me do something stupid. “I can get why some angel-born live among the humans, but a half-breed? You don’t blend as well.”

  Next to me Gareth exhaled. “I moved here to be with someone,” he answered, surprising me. The tension in his shoulders dropped, and he seemed much more relaxed in my presence.

  “A human?” I asked, sitting up and curious.

  Gareth’s dark eyes were on his glass. “Yes. Her name was Emma. We were young and very much in love. She accepted me for what I was, a half-breed. It never bothered he
r. I couldn’t care less that she wasn’t an elf. I loved her. That’s all that really mattered.” I looked at the elf who looked exactly like a human, except for the ears. I could see how easily a human woman could fall for him.

  So, Tyrius had been right all along. The elf moved out here because he fell in love with a human woman. Curiouser and curiouser.

  “When the community found out about our relationship,” continued Gareth, and by community I knew he meant the half-breed community, including the elves, “they asked me to terminate it. They would put a memory charm on her so she’d forget she’d ever met me.”

  I leaned forward and popped an olive in my mouth. “I’m guessing you told them to go screw themselves.”

  Gareth smiled as he looked at me. “Something like that. They told me if I continued my relationship with Emma so openly, I would be... silenced.”

  “Damn. So what did you do?”

  “I dared them to try,” said the elf. “They knew my magic was much more powerful than theirs. So they shunned me. I was turned away from everything I knew, everyone I knew and loved. My family. My friends.” His jaw clenched, his expression going hard. “I vowed I’d never have anything to do with the community ever again.”

  “Your own people shunned you? The elves as well?” A shudder ran through me at the fierceness in the elf’s eyes.

  “They were the worst of them,” he muttered. “Elves don’t mix with other non-elves. They don’t take kindly to mixing with the other half-breed races. Being with a human... well... it was much, much worse.” He looked at me and gave me a sly grin, making him look years younger and boyish. “We could compare shunning stories.”

  My breath slipped out and I laughed. “We could. But you’re going to need a hell of a lot more wine.”

  Gareth laughed. It was a genuine, deep-throated kind of laugh and very pleasant.

  I set my wine down and went for some more cheese. “I get it now,” I said, taking a bite out of some cheese that was having a fiesta with my taste buds.

  Gareth frowned as he sipped his wine. “You get what now?”