by Cheree Alsop
I cut her off and said, “I know what I am. I turn into a wolf, into an animal. That makes me a monster in this world.” I glanced at her. The sadness of her brown eyes made me let out a breath. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t have empathy for someone else.” I lifted the sleeping dog meaningfully. “Even if it might get me killed.”
“You weren’t close to getting killed,” Ceren replied. “I’ve never seen anything like that. They were in trouble, not you.” She paused, then said, “Except your arm.”
I glanced at it. Drying blood covered my forearm from my elbow to my wrist.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I told her.
At her questioning expression, I knelt and rubbed my forearm on my leg, taking care not to jostle the dog. When I rose, the red line from the knife blade was merely a scratch that tingled in the light of the moon.
“See?”
Ceren stared at it. “But that gash was nearly to the bone. It was bleeding like crazy.” She met my eyes. “How is that possible?”
I allowed a small smile to touch my lips. “One of the perks of being a monster.”
She followed me deeper into the trees. “I don’t understand.”
I gestured toward the dark sky. “The moonlight heals werewolves. It speeds the healing process and helps our bodies recover much quicker than humans.”
“That’s neat,” she said, her tone uncertain.
“It comes in handy,” I replied.
“But you could still have been killed,” she said as more of a question than a statement.
I didn’t answer her.
Alia, her mother, and James were just visible through the kitchen window when I reached the Willard house. I tapped on the door with my foot and waited for them to open it.
“Oh my goodness,” Alia gasped when she opened to door. “What happened?”
She stepped back and I carried the dog inside. “A gang was going to kill it. I barely stopped them in time. At least, I hope I was in time.”
“Bring him over here,” Mrs. Willard directed.
She spread a tablecloth over the table where they had been sitting. I recognized it as the same one they had used when Ian and James carried me in injured and bleeding in my wolf form.
James helped me set the dog down gently. He stirred at the feeling of the table beneath him, but I calmed him with a hand on his shoulder. His pain-filled eyes closed again.
“Tell us what happened,” Mrs. Willard said.
I kept the details sparse, aware of Ceren watching me from the far corner. I left out the part with the girl and knives, me throwing gang members into each other, and the leader’s head hitting the ground. In truth, I barely mentioned the violence at all. I couldn’t say who I was trying to protect, but the result was the same.
“He’s in bad shape,” Alia said when she finished checking the animal over. “I think we should take him to Mr. Rexas. I’ll text him.”
“I agree,” Mrs. Willard seconded as she put a blanket over the dog. “He’s got a soft spot for pit bulls.”
“Who’s Mr. Rexas?” Concern for the dog’s wellbeing filled me. I stepped forward to help them.
“He’s the vet I trained under,” Alia replied. “He’s really great at what he does. He’ll take good care of this big guy.”
She set a gentle hand on the dog’s head. The dog gave a little whine and wagged his stubby tail. Alia’s phone beeped and she glanced at it. “He says we can come right away. He had an emergency call he just finished with and was just getting ready to leave the office.”
I moved to pick up the dog again, but James beat me to it.
“I’ve got him, don’t worry,” he told me. “You look like you could use some rest.”
“Yes,” his mother agreed, eyeing me worriedly. “Is some of that blood yours?”
I shook my head. “It’s his.” I didn’t feel the need to mention the fact that some probably belonged to a few of the gang members. “I’m fine. I really can help.”
“Get some sleep,” Mrs. Willard said. “If you walked all the way from Township, you need it.” She gave me a motherly smile. “And a shower.” She paused in following James out the door and commented, “Probably a shower first.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.
A thought struck me and I asked, “If he’s the vet, why didn’t you guys take me over there when I got hit?”
“Because,” Mrs. Willard replied. “We know better than to show up with an injured wolf. Can you imagine the trouble that would have caused?”
A chuckle escaped me at the thought of the trouble them keeping the wolf had caused. An answering laugh came from the woman before she winked at me and shut the door.
Chapter Ten
I didn’t have to open my eyes to know that Ceren was standing outside of the shower.
“Are you spying on me?” I asked as I scrubbed shampoo through my hair.
“If I was spying, I wouldn’t say anything,” Ceren replied. “I would be perfectly silent.”
“That would be the day,” I muttered, but without any bite to it.
I closed my eyes and let the hot water run down my head and across my shoulders. It was perhaps the most wonderful feeling in the entire world. I had endured cold showers in the Lair fed by an underground stream that turned the body to ice wherever it touched. Most showers were a survival affair, rushed through because it was ordered once a week and we didn’t want to attract too many vermin to our beds. Also, many of our paranormal enemies relied at least partially on their sense of smell; it didn’t do to become the obvious target.
When I was younger, I couldn’t imagine enjoying getting clean. Now, I couldn’t think of anything better than scrubbing off the remnants of my fight with the gang using warm water and soap that smelled of the forest.
“Are you going to stay in there all night?”
I opened my eyes to see Ceren’s dully glowing form beyond the foggy shower door.
“Maybe,” I replied. “It feels good.”
“I remember.”
Her voice was so quiet I didn’t know if she meant for me to overhear, but a pang of sadness went through me at the thought of how hard it must be to want the things the rest of us took for granted.
I turned off the faucet and grabbed one of the fluffy towels Mrs. Willard always had stacked on the shelf near the shower door. A glance at Ceren showed that the ghost had turned away to give me some privacy. I wrapped the towel around my waist and grabbed a shirt from the pile of second-hand clothes Mrs. Willard had started keeping in there. Ceren stopped me before I could put it on.
“Tell me about the wolf pawprint.”
I glanced down at the mark on my chest. The jagged outline of the pawprint was black against my skin. It was rough, raised slightly, and I could feel its presence even with a shirt on.
“Those same witches who took care of the jakhin’s body shot me with silver, then saved my life when they realized I wasn’t all bad,” I told her. “The head witch said the pawprint is the reminder that I survived out of sheer stubbornness.” My tone was wry as I pulled the shirt over my head and straightened it.
“What about that burn on your hip?”
I glanced down and saw that the towel had started to fall. Embarrassment washed over me as I snugged it tighter.
“That was from fighting an acid-spewing demon fiend called a diablo monk. It wanted the Lair for its own master.” My voice quieted when I said, “We lost five of our brethren and sisters that day.”
I pulled on a pair of pants and threw the towel into the hamper near the door.
Ceren pointed to a mark just visible below the hem of my tee shirt. “And that one?”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have time to tell you the story behind every scar. We need to track down the khavis.”
“No.”
I looked up, expecting to meet her gaze in the mirror, but only my reflection showed. Her statement that she could only see herself in my eyes whispered in the back of my
mind when I turned to face her.
“Ceren, we have to stop it.”
She shook her head. “It’s too dangerous.”
I stared at her. “But it’s dangerous out there. It could hurt people.”
“It could hurt you,” she replied.
I watched her a moment before I let out a breath. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“But you bleed,” she pointed out as I reached for the doorknob.
I paused with my fingers stretched out. “And it’s a ghost eater.” I looked at her. “You need to stay here.”
She shook her head, but fear showed in her eyes. “Not if you’re going out there.”
“It can’t hurt me,” I told her.
“How do you know?” she demanded. “You don’t know anything about it!”
I leaned against the door. “Then I’ll learn. I can’t just let it go hurt innocent humans, not to mention the ghosts wandering around out there.”
“Why not?”
Her question rang through the bathroom. It was a demand, but it was also filled with panic, fear, and worry that were as easy to read as the howl of a wolf.
I ran my fingers across the healing wound down my forearm as I answered, “Because I have things to make up for. I told you. I’ve hurt a lot of lives, and it’s my turn to protect them.”
“But what if you can’t?” Her question came as a whisper.
I held her gaze when I replied, “Then I’ll die trying.”
Anger made her expression stiffen. She clenched her jaw so hard I saw the muscle jump that ran along it. When she spoke, her hands were curled into fists.
“You’re an idiot, Zev. You’re going to throw your life away. I saw you nearly do it with the gang, and they didn’t manage to kill you, so now you’re going out after this khavis. Well, I’m done with it. I’m done with you, and I never want to see you again.”
Her words hollowed me out, but I forced myself to reply, “Fine.”
I opened the door and stepped into the hall.
“Fine,” she shouted back. “I’m leaving. I’m going back to the beginning and I don’t want to see you ever again!”
She vanished. I shut the door in a futile effort to leave her in there. The fact that she could just go through the door teased at the back of my mind. I ignored it and set my forehead on the cool, painted surface of the wood for a moment.
“Zev, are you alright? I heard you talking to someone.”
I pushed away at the sound of Mitch’s voice.
“I’m fine,” I told him. “We need to rally the pack.”
“They’re just getting ready for a run,” he replied, following me to the kitchen. “What’s up?”
I was about to answer when Virgo opened the door from the basement. The warlock gave me a searching look.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Fine,” I replied shortly. “Everyone needs to stop asking me that.” I turned toward the kitchen door. “What I need is for you to fill us in on what you and James found out about the khavis. We’re going hunting.”
“When?” the warlock asked in surprise.
“Right now,” I replied.
I left the warlock staring after us and stepped into the welcoming wash of moonlight that lit the backyard. Striker, Safira, and Frost were already there in wolf form. The huge dark gray wolf paced to meet us followed by the smaller almost white form of Safira and Frost’s long-legged brown and black youthful frame.
Tingles of anticipation rushed along my limbs at the thought of joining them. At least in wolf form, the hunt would be an enjoyable one.
“I need your help to track down a dangerous creature,” I told them. “It was summoned by a murderer to stop the ghost of the man he murdered from harassing him.” I glanced at Mitch. “He’s the same one who summoned the jakhins. If the witches are right, there’s still one of those around, too. We need to be careful.”
The wolves’ expressions sobered, telling me they understood just how dangerous this could be. We had hunted down our share of deadly creatures for the Master. The same feeling of anticipation filled me as it had before each of those hunts.
“We’ve trained for this,” I reminded them. “Remember what you’ve learned, don’t take unnecessary risks, and if you find either the khavis or the jakhin, howl for the others.”
“We’re splitting up?” Mitch asked.
I nodded. “The faster we find these creatures and stop them, the better.”
“And I’ll be ready,” Virgo said. He held up the knife that smelled of lavender. “As soon as your howls tell me where you are, I’ll be there to finish the job.”
I had to give the warlock credit for bravery. His arm was still wrapped and there was no doubt the thought of going against another jakhin was terrifying, but he didn’t let it show on his face or in his voice.
“We’re lucky to have you on our side,” I told him.
A slight smile touched the warlock’s face. He looked at each of the wolves in turn. “From what James looked up, a khavis is a lot like a jakhin, but bigger. I’d recommend for you to be careful, be quick, and watch out for their claws.”
Snorts of laughter came from the wolves.
Virgo looked at me. “What are they doing?”
“Agreeing,” I told him while trying to hide my own smile.
“I was trying to motivate them,” he said in a whisper. “I figured it would help against terrifying creatures.”
“It’s helping,” I replied in the midst of more snorts.
The warlock’s eyes widened as if he just remembered that werewolves could hear whispers. “I just don’t want you to be afraid,” he said.
Mitch took pity on Virgo and set a hand on his arm. “You’re doing great. We’ll let you know when we find anything.” He turned his eyes to me. “Ready?”
A smile of anticipation lifted my lips. “Ready.”
Running through the forest in wolf form filled me with renewed energy. We had sectioned out Brickwell into quadrants for each of us to sweep. I kept my ears tuned to the sounds around me. If any of the other werewolves gave the call, I would head that way immediately.
Worry for Ceren hounded my steps. The thought that she was out there somewhere with a ghost eater wouldn’t leave me alone. She might have been angry, but she was also sweet and funny when she wanted to be. The fear that the ghost eater would find her first kept me running. If we could find it, then Ceren would be protected for whatever the future held. One thing I could admit to myself was that I wanted her to be safe and happy above all else. But we needed to stop the khavis first.
As my nose sifted through the thousands of scents of city life, my mind refused to slow. Usually phasing to wolf form meant shutting away some of the clutter of human life. The emotions and fears were muted, leaving the clarity of animal thought as another form of freedom.
But this time, something continued to nag at the back of my mind. As the moon circled lower on the horizon, the lack of any scent belonging to either the khavis or the jakhin pressed ominously against me. None of the werewolves sounded the alarm. The fear that the creatures had moved beyond Brickwell to somewhere else increased with each beat of my paws. I snuck between houses and down alleys, checking the backs of stores and beneath vehicles. The thought they might have moved out of our reach was a terrifying one. If we didn’t stop them, who could?
Memories of the nightmare I’d had at the college surfaced. Flashes of pain, the sound of the jakhin’s claws on the painted bricks, and the blackest black of her eyes haunted me. I stumbled over a curb and barely righted myself in time to avoid smashing into the side of a building. Realizing I was a danger to myself if I didn’t get my thoughts in order, I stopped and sat beneath the pooling light of the library’s front steps.
The jakhin had chased me through the college. It had felt so real and terrifying. I had awoken from that nightmare to see Ceren for the first time. What had she said in the bathroom? She had yelled something
about going back to the beginning.
The realization made me open my eyes. I had to go to Township.
There was no way to let the others know. If they came upon the khavis or jakhin, at least Virgo was there to help them. I couldn’t leave Ceren alone to deal with either creature if my nightmare was right. I had to hurry.
I ran through the forests that separated Brickwell from Township faster than I ever had before. Gray was barely touching the horizon by the time the city came into view. I paused only long enough to phase and pull on the clothes I had hidden at the edge of the college, then I ran through the grounds.
That fact that it was a Saturday was obvious by the lack of vehicles in the parking lot. Apparently, teachers relished the weekend as much as the students did. Professor Shipley’s comment that I should get some rest this weekend made me shake my head. Rest definitely wasn’t in the cards for this werewolf.
I picked the lock on the Science and Arts building and let myself inside. With my chest heaving and my heart thundering in my ears, I stood still and tried to listen.
Silence met me, whispering that perhaps I was wrong. Maybe the nightmare was just a nightmare. If Ceren was safe and the khavis gone, I would have allowed myself the foolishness of running dozens of miles to save her.
A scream shattered the wry smile that had spread across my face at my actions. Another scream sounded and the smile turned into a shout.
“Ceren, I’m coming!”
I took off running. I hoped it was only the jakhin who was there. If it was, it would be no threat to Ceren and I could defeat it with the knife in my pocket.
Ceren’s terrified scream contradicted that thought. I ran around the corner. My bare feet made a squeak on the tiles when I slid to a stop.
That was no jakhin.
A hulking, spiked, wretched looking form had its claws sunk deep into the bricks on either side of where Ceren was huddled in the corner. Four massive arms with huge, curved claws glistened with a glowing, green slime. Its legs were as thick as pillars. Gouge marks that it had made when walking tore up the tile beneath its claws. When it growled, a billowy, slimy haze battered up against Ceren.
