Hazel's Heart

by Terri Reid

“How the hell…”

  “I called my dispatcher when the explosion happened after I heard the call for the fire department,” he said.

  “Were you there?” Donovan asked.

  “I heard the dispatch and I called Hazel,” he said. “She and I, er, met earlier today. The explosion occurred when we were on the phone.”

  “Wait! I heard there was no explosion,” Donovan exclaimed. “There was nothing there when the fire department arrived.”

  “There wasn’t,” Joseph said, watching Donovan through the mirror. “By the time they arrived.”

  Donovan leaned forward and grabbed the front seat. “Cat!” he exclaimed. “What happened to Cat?”

  “She was in the store when it happened,” he replied, watching the pain come into the Donovan’s eyes before he fell back against the seat.

  “How is she?” he asked, his voice regretful.

  “She’s fine,” Joseph said. “She said that she heard a voice in her mind telling her to shelter herself, so she ran into the office and hid under the desk. Not even a scratch.”

  Donovan glared at Joseph through the mirror. “What were you trying to prove?” he asked.

  Joseph shrugged. “Just following a hunch,” he said. “I don’t know who I can trust yet.”

  “And now?” Donovan asked.

  He met Donovan’s eyes through the mirror. “Haven’t decided yet,” he replied evenly. “But I’m getting a better idea.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “You need to go to bed,” Agnes said as Hazel headed towards the back door.

  “I need to milk my goats,” Hazel replied. “And because of Rowan and Henry, I’m feeling fine.”

  “I can milk your goats,” Agnes countered.

  Hazel chuckled. “Yeah, I remember the last time you tried to do that,” she said. “It didn’t end well for anyone.”

  Agnes tried to look offended but failed. “I figured out he was a billy before I tried to put the milkers on him,” she argued.

  “But not before you confused the entire herd,” Hazel countered, “And had them upset for hours.” She came over and hugged her mother. “Besides, I need some time with Lefty, just to calm my heart a little.”

  Her mom hugged her back. “That I can totally understand,” she said. “Okay, use whatever shortcuts you need tonight.”

  Hazel leaned back in surprise. “What? My own mother suggesting I use magic for menial tasks?” she exclaimed with a grin. Then she peered out the window.

  Agnes sighed and rolled her eyes. “What are you looking for?” she asked.

  “Flying pigs,” Hazel replied. “Didn’t you always say…”

  “Yes, I did,” Agnes retorted. “But today is an exception to the rule.”

  “So, the new rule is ‘before you can use magic on your chores pigs will fly, unless I change the rule,” Hazel teased.

  “That’s exactly right,” Agnes replied. “A mother’s prerogative.”

  She kissed her mom on the cheek and walked over to the door. “Okay, I’ll use short cuts,” she agreed. “As long as it doesn’t bother the goats.”

  She stepped outside in the early evening dusk and took a deep breath. The fragrance from Rowan’s lavender fields calmed her spirit as she made her way across the barnyard and to the door of the barn. It had been such a strange couple of days, she thought, from the trip to town to the explosion at the store. But strangest of all was Joseph Norwalk. How easily he accepted who we are, no denials or accusations – he just accepted us. And, even odder, how quickly he reacted when mom told him to carry me behind the house, so no one would see my condition. Why didn’t he argue with her? Why didn’t he ask more questions?

  “The answers to these and other strange questions…” she mumbled as she pushed open the barn door and then she froze. Something was wrong. It was too quiet. The goats should have been bleating for their evening meal.

  She rushed forward, the pens were empty. Jumping over the wooden fence she dashed into the fenced pasture. “Good girls,” she called loudly. “Good girls, come home.”

  She listened for an answering bleat, but didn’t hear anything. Running back to the barn, she picked up a metal can that had grain in it. Rattling the grain against the side of the can, she hurried outside again. “Good girls,” she called. “Dinner. Good girls.”

  But there was no response.

  She ran back into the barn, hopped onto the Gator and pulled it out of the barn. Henry and Rowan were walking back from the still room and stopped when they saw her. “Is everything okay?” Rowan asked.

  Hazel nodded with a little exasperation. “The goats must have found a weakness in the fence somewhere,” she said with a sigh. “They’re off on an adventure somewhere. But I’ve got the grain bucket, so they will soon be in my control.”

  Henry shook his head. “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  She laughed. “Henry, these goats have gotten out so many times, it’s practically a weekly event. Nothing nefarious going on here, just a bunch of naughty goats,” she argued. “Really, it’s no big deal and the ride on the Gator will clear my head.”

  “Do you have your phone?” Rowan asked.

  Hazel patted the pocket of her vest. “Yes, it’s right here,” she said. “So, if I need you, I’ll call.”

  “What direction are you going?” Henry insisted.

  Hazel rolled her eyes. “Well, if you must know, I’m going to go out towards the orchard in the high pastures. The raspberries are ripe, so they are probably eating their fill.”

  “Okay, you will call us?” Henry insisted.

  “Yes, I will,” Hazel replied. “Tell Mom I’m fine, okay?”

  Rowan nodded. “Okay, I will,” she said. “Be safe.”

  Hazel rode the Gator to the gate, hopped off, then opened the gate and rode the Gator through it. Then she locked the gate behind her, waving to Henry and Rowan. “Worry warts,” she muttered with a smile, as she climbed up on the ATV.

  She rode across the first pasture at high-speed and stopped at the gate on the other side, only to find it already open. She paused, and a flutter of unease went through her stomach. Did she unlock the fence and forget about it? She couldn’t remember walking out to the pasture. She studied it for another minute longer and almost reached for her phone. Then she shook her head. This was ridiculous, she was letting them get to her. She was not going to be paranoid on her own property.

  She drove the Gator through the open gate and started to go back to lock it but realized it would be easier to herd the goats back through it if it were kept open. The sun was beginning to set, so Hazel turned on the headlights on the Gator and continued across the large pasture towards the orchard.

  She held the metal feed bucket in her hand and shook it again. “Good girls,” she called. “Dinner! Come on home!”

  “Probably feasting on raspberries,” she said, but found she couldn’t bring herself to smile. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her breathing was shallow. Every shadow seemed to be menacing.

  “Stop it!” she scolded herself. “You’re scaring yourself.”

  She paused for a moment on the outside of the large apple orchard. The trees were leafed out and small fruit had started to grow on the branches. The path between the trees was wide enough for the Gator to pass through easily, but with the deepening darkness, the usually cheery apple orchard was a maze of long, twisted branches and oddly shaped silhouettes.

  She began to reach for her phone once again, then stopped. “Sure,” she whispered. “Ask Henry to come and save his soon-to-be little sister. I don’t think so.”

  She revved the engine on the Gator and put it into gear, moving slowly through the orchards searching for the goats. She kept calling, but found her voice getting shakier and shakier with each try. So, finally, she gave up trying and just rattled the feed bucket.

  Finally, with a sigh of relief, she drove out of the orchard and onto the clearing where the raspberry patch lay. There, alongside the patch, were th
e goats, all gathered together in a circle. She nearly cried with relief, as she drove the Gator forward. “You girls are in such trouble,” she said. “Scaring me like that.”

  She stopped the ATV and stepped off. “Okay, it’s time to go home,” she said.

  Suddenly, she was grabbed from behind and her arms were pinned to her side. She twisted and fought, but whoever held her, was much stronger than she was in her weakened state.

  “Let me go,” she screamed.

  Just then, a familiar figure stepped forward, out of the shadows of the tall raspberry bushes and walked into the beams of light from the Gator.

  “Wanda,” Hazel said, glaring at the woman. ‘You really don’t want to do this.”

  “Hazel dear,” Wanda said. “How nice of you to join us. We decided that the Master needed a celebration, so we decided on a blood sacrifice.”

  “If you kill me…” Hazel warned.

  Wanda laughed. “Oh, silly, I wouldn’t kill you,” she said, waving to another person in the group. “Come show little Willoughby our choice for tonight.”

  A burly man walked forward with something squirming in his arms. He too stepped into the beams of the Gator and in his arms he held Lefty.

  “No!” Hazel screamed, her eyes filling with tears. “No! Don’t hurt him.”

  She turned to Wanda. “Please, no,” she pleaded. “Please, he’s done nothing to you.”

  Wanda smiled. “Oh, dear,” she mocked. “I had no idea he meant so much to you.” She turned to the man holding the baby goat. “Make sure his death is painful.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Rowan and Henry stepped up onto the patio steps when the police cruiser pulled in behind the house.

  “I wonder what this is all about,” Rowan said.

  “Looks like there’s someone in the back seat,” Henry replied as they hurried toward the vehicle.

  Joseph opened the door. “I need your help,” he said. “Donovan needs some medical care and then I need to question him.”

  “Medical care?” Rowan asked. “What’s wrong.”

  “The mayor was displeased that he called 9-1-1,” Joseph said, then he paused and slowly looked around. “Where’s Hazel?”

  “The goats got out again,” Rowan said. “She took the Gator up to the orchard to find them.”

  “In the dark? Alone?” he asked harshly. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “We…” Rowan began.

  “How do I get there?” Joseph demanded.

  “There’s no road,” Rowan stammered. “It’s through the pasture, about two miles over that hill.”

  “Get as close as you can with your cars,” Joseph demanded. “And meet me there.”

  “What are you going to do?” Henry asked, as Joseph jogged away from them.

  Joseph looked over his shoulder, his eyes reflecting yellow in the deck light. “I’m going to run,” he replied, his voice a low growl and then he dashed away from them.

  Donovan ran over to them. “Get everyone, now!” he called.

  “But…but Hazel said it was no big deal,” Rowan insisted.

  “Everything is a big deal now,” Donovan said. “And right now, Hazel, one of the three necessary to stop the Master, is vulnerable.”

  The door opened, and Cat and Agnes ran forward toward the stairs with Fuzzy at their feet. “Hazel?” Agnes cried.

  “The orchard,” Rowan replied, running towards the Jeep. “Joseph wants us to take the road and come in from the other side.”

  As Agnes and Cat ran to meet the others at the Jeep, Fuzzy took off through the pastures, following Joseph’s scent.

  Joseph leapt the fence on the far end of the pasture. He picked up her scent earlier and the darkness of the night increased his other senses. He could feel the fear for her course through his body, could feel the anger towards her enemies increase his adrenaline. Then he heard her scream and he could no longer hold back the change.

  He ripped his shirt over his head as he ran, his body buckled and twisted. His face altered and narrowed. His skin peeled back, and new muscle, sinew, and fur replaced it. He paused for only a moment and howled his war cry into the night sky and sprinted ahead on all four legs.

  He could smell her and could hear her heart racing. He could smell the others, felt the terror from the animals and the hate from the humans. He flew through the orchard, his padded feet silent on the grass. He was only a few yards away and narrowed his sights on the one holding her.

  “Please, no,” Hazel begged.

  “Better yet,” Wanda said. “Kill him here, in front of her, so she gets to watch the consequences of her decisions.”

  “Wanda no!” Hazel screamed.

  “Sorry, dear,” Wanda said. “You chose the wrong side this time.”

  The loud growl echoed through the orchard and suddenly Hazel’s captor was gone. Hazel reacted immediately, focusing her energy on the man holding Lefty. She held her hands apart, her fingers wide, and slowly brought them together, as if she were holding an invisible balloon. The man started to gasp, and his face turned purple. He dropped to his knees, releasing the little goat and grabbed his throat, gasping for air.

  Hazel stared at him, hate running through her veins, feeling blood lust nearly overcome her. “No!” she yelled, then dropped her arms. “You aren’t worth it.”

  The man collapsed to the ground.

  She turned around to face Wanda and was surprised to see Wanda backed against a tree, her face filled with fear. Hazel turned and gasped aloud. The beast stood over six feet all. His arms were long and muscular, and his paws had claws that were at least six inches long. He was covered in fur, yet he stood like a man. His massive jaws were covered in blood and Hazel turned to see the man who had held her captive was laying bloodied on the ground.

  It had saved her. Whatever it was, whoever it was, had saved her.

  “Thank you,” she said to the beast.

  It turned to her, for only a moment, and she felt the connection to her soul.

  Suddenly the pasture behind the raspberry patch filled with light as the high-beams from the Jeep flashed over the hill.

  The shadows standing near the raspberry patch dispersed quickly, running in all directions. With a scream of fear, Wanda ran too, and the beast growled at her. She fell to the ground in fear, then scrambled away, through the thorn-infested berry patch, as quickly as she could. Hazel wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. She turned to thank the beast once again, but he was gone. Was he pursuing Wanda and the others?

  Suddenly Fuzzy appeared at the edge of the orchard. “Fuzzy,” she cried. “Go help the wolf. Go!”

  Fuzzy lifted his nose up into the air to catch the scent, then turned and ran back into the orchard.

  Stumbling forward, Hazel ran over to Lefty. He cuddled close to her, frightened and trembling. “It’s okay, baby,” she crooned. “We’re going to get you home. We’re going to get you home right now.”

  She tried to lift him, but it was too much. She couldn’t get the strength to do it. Laying her head against the little goat, she sobbed into his fur.

  “Hazel,” Agnes called. “Hazel, where are you?”

  “I’m here,” she cried weakly. “Over here.”

  Henry got to her first and wrapped his arms around her. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  Looking up to him, her eyes filled with tears, she shook her head. “Thanks for being the cavalry.”

  “I shouldn’t have let you go alone in the first place,” he said. “If not for Joseph…”

  “Joseph?” Hazel asked. “Where is Joseph?”

  “He took off running to help you,” Henry said, “Once he told the rest of us what to do.” Then Henry chuckled softly. “But I don’t think he understood how far away it was.”

  Hazel nodded slowly, but in her heart she knew that Joseph had arrived just in time.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Standing inside the barn, leaning against the pen wall, Hazel watched the goats ru
sh for their grain. Even Lefty seemed to be back to his usual antics, trying to grab a little grain from each separate feeder.

  “Looks like they’re going to be fine,” Rowan said, leaning shoulder to shoulder with Hazel.

  Hazel sighed and nodded. “Yes,” she agreed with a sigh. “Thank goodness.”

  “And how about you?” Rowan asked. “How are you going to be?”

  Hazel turned to her sister and smiled. “Actually, I’m better than I thought I’d be,” she said. “It was terrifying for a moment. And it was really foolish of me to leave myself in a vulnerable position like that. But, I’m good.”

  “So, you haven’t really filled us in on the details,” Henry said, as he tossed fresh straw into the pen. “When is that going to happen.”

  “I need to get things straight in my mind,” Hazel said. “And I really need to speak with Joseph to clarify things.”

  Henry leaned against the rake and shook his head. “I still don’t know how Joseph made it there before us,” he said. “And why did he disappear before we got there.”

  Hazel nodded. “And those are some of the things I want to talk to him about,” she said. “But I really think it needs to be just the two of us, at least at first.”

  Rowan pushed back, away from the wall. “So, can we help you with the milking?” she asked.

  Hazel shook her head. “No, but thanks. It won’t take me long and I need a little time to process things,” she said.

  “We’d really like to help,” Henry added.

  Hazel laughed. “I see this for what it is,” she teased. “You don’t want to go inside with Mom.”

  “She is a little frantic,” Rowan admitted.

  “Well, you two need to calm her down,” Hazel said, then her tone changed, and she was completely serious. “And you need to find out what going on with Donovan.”

  “You’re right,” Henry agreed, coming over and putting his arm around Rowan. “Come on, sweetheart, no use hiding out in the barn any longer.”

  Rowan leaned over and hugged her sister. “Call if you need us,” she said.

  “I will,” Hazel promised.