by J N Moon
“I know, tell me about your dream, tell me everything.”
So I did, with as much detail as I could. Conor’s face was full of frowns, lines, biting his bottom lip hard as I spoke. Once I finished he went to the kitchen and put on the kettle.
“Hot chocolate?”
“Perfect thanks,” I replied.
We huddled on my little sofa he spoke, “Black Shuck usually takes its victims, escorts them. He didn’t do that to you, you’re still here. I think he was warning you. It’s unheard of-someone walking away from him, I know it was a scary experience but I’m pretty sure that was a good omen. Hum, maybe Black Shuck is in trouble, too...”
“You’re worried about him...”
“I’m not underestimating your experience, by no means but yes. I’ve met him, though not being human the same rules don’t apply. I think you need to see me in my true form, maybe here, now...”
I said nothing at first, I wasn’t so sure. But then when would I be ready? I knew they believed, heck even my mum believed that this would happen to me. Here it was private, none of his friends just popping in, watching me. Watching my reactions. But I was scared, scared shitless.
“You’re perfectly safe, I swear. I wouldn’t suggest this if I thought there was any chance of harming you.”
“So you know what you are, I mean you know both human and animal personalities when you’re a wolf?”
Glowing gold again, his eyes lit up, as if my trying to accept him made him happy.
“I am, and most weres and shifters are. We don’t go around tearing humans or animals’ limb from limb, well... nowadays there are a very few that do.” Clearing his throat, a pink blush rose on his stubbly cheeks, “I’m afraid we do sometimes perpetrate that myth just so we don’t get attacked by other supernaturals.”
“Oh...”
“Remember, it’s only me. It sounds worse than it is.” He took my hand as he stood up, bent over and kissed it like some gallant knight. I remembered then that he’d said they were immortal, and I had no idea of his age. I mean he looked late thirties but some of that could be his weather-beaten face, but maybe he was, hundreds of years old?
Before doing anything else he stripped down to his boxer shorts, his tattoos covering his upper arms and torso. Shit he was fit, not body builder fit but toned. The tattoos swirled and kissed his sun worn skin, his hair touching his bare shoulders. Seeing me watch him, he turned slightly and winked, his mouth grinning but his eyes hidden under his long fringe.
Again, I wondered as adrenalin, fear rose in me like a building cascade, am I safe?
Crouching on the floor a few feet away from me, I remembered, it’s only Conor!
But nothing prepared me for this, not even the black blooded, saliva dripping demon.
Gulping for air, he yelled as his body shot forward, bent and sent him instantaneously to his knees. Yelling, his face contorted, eyes shut in pain, his mouth a huge oval bellowing a scream. I pushed myself further into the sofa, sweat dripping from me. Something shifted, cracked, splitting bones moving, I gasped as I saw his back split open, his arms rip, his hands elongate and start to morph into something else.
His face cracked, screaming got worse and I stared open mouthed as an animal jaw jutted from his face, him twisting his head, his neck like he was pulling on a tight jumper. Guttural sounds came out of him now, fleshy limbs with hair sprouting like shoots sped up on camera.
Gasping he shook his head, his wolf head and turned to me. I couldn’t help it, I screamed, he tilted his head and laid on the floor like a submissive dog. I wanted him to turn back but he’d gone to all that effort!
“Ok, I see now,” I yelled. He whimpered and stood before me complete with wagging tail. “This is too weird, ok I’ve had enough-I’m sorry, please change back,” I gasped.
Backing off he laid down, and I saw his transformation in reverse. It was more disturbing to me because it was like watching an animal in pain, though I knew him to be one of the same. Where did the hair go?
I was transfixed in the horror, as he finally completed his human form, he took a breath and looked over.
“Can you hand me my trousers please?”
I didn’t want to, I wanted to wake up, to be anywhere else, it took all my effort to not look horrified. Shaking, I got off the sofa, legs seemingly weak from that and stumbled right into him.
Raucously he laughed, “Ok, alright, I surrender. I’m yours,”
“Shit, I’m sorry. Oh...” trying desperately to retrieve any grace I had I purposely looked the other way, got his trousers and handed them to him. But I had to lighten the situation, I mean I’m not a prude. I may have lived like a nun for a few years but that was due to the number of freaks I’d encountered.
“So, that wasn’t too bad,” he grinned.
“Not after everything else, it’s weird though right, I mean if there are all these species, I’m amazed that humans don’t know, I mean don’t even have a clue. Surely some do know?” My heart rate was returning to normal and I breathed more easily.
“A very select few know, we’ve had to be discreet. In our past, burning witches, villagers with pitch forks-all to do with supernatural creatures. In the sixteenth century, they held werewolf trials, and many men here in England were burned alive. Back then if they so much as suspected you to be werewolf, or any kind of shifter, your whole family could be put to the stake. Anyone left would wander but travellers were feared in the main because people suspected them of being a werewolf or the like.”
“How old are you?” Trying to steady my voice for question that burned inside me.
“Ha, you think I could be hundreds of years old, I see,” he nodded. “Sorry to disappoint but I’m thirty-five, like actually born thirty-five years ago. Some in our community are much older, but we tend to age more naturally than say... vampires. Maybe it’s a blood thing. With other creatures, demons as they’re not initially composed of bones and flesh they can live much, much longer. But come, why not freshen up and I’ll make you some breakfast?”
In the shower I realised a werewolf was making me breakfast. And helping me fight a demon. That, obviously is weird as fuck, but having to answer text messages from my human friends, seemed stranger. Living in two worlds running parallel, I could see why these supernaturals lived apart from humans.
After showering and some fresh clothes, I chucked the bedding into the wash and ate breakfast with Conor, in my home. It seemed so normal after the dream, after him turning into a wolf and he chatted happily about the plans they’d made to kill the Nuckelavee like most people talk about their day to day events.
When he was eating and not looking at me, I stole glances, this man, so kind was actually part beast, was hard to wrap my head around. Even though I’d just witnessed it. I knew in my soul he was right, people do fear what they don’t understand. I was entering this strange parallel world and one in which I could never return. But that was alright. I’d never been a fan of normal anyway, I had tried to fit in but never managed it.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re safe, are you ready to come back to my home?”
“You really think the Nuckelavee would find me here? How? It’s not that I don’t appreciate your offer and I love your company, it’s just I’m used to looking out for myself, I’m not used to depending on others.” I didn’t want to sound ungrateful but I wasn’t comfortable with staying at Conor’s, a guest is fine for a few days. Any more feels like a scrounger or a child.
“I have a life, I can’t just hang out indefinitely, you know?” Maybe how I said that came out wrong...
Staring at me, his eyes hidden under his fringe, curved lips and mischievous grin, “Oh, I thought you’d move in.”
“You know what I mean. You have a job? Friends, things to do?”
“Emma, we all do. I know you do, though I admit I love having you at my home. It’s only for a week, maybe less. I hope... can I still see you afterwards?”
“I’d like that. But I thi
nk we should concentrate on what we’ve got to do now, first.”
He beamed that big smile, stood up grabbed our plates and washed up. That’s a keeper, I thought.
––––––––
Back at Conor’s I changed, knowing Lou would be back for training and I warmed up outside and waited for her but she didn’t show. Conor was in his basement making sure the Asrai were comfortable. He’d told everyone not to go down there, we being so much bigger and them out of their natural environment they felt vulnerable.
Conor phoned Lou but got no answer. Then he tried Steve, her husband. Nothing. “Alright, maybe they’re busy. Give me a few minutes, I’ll train you myself.”
He was much easier on me than Lou and fun. Sparring was harder cause he was so much bigger and he did have bokkens which I appreciated, I wasn’t ready for real razor-sharp swords.
“I’m going to jog over to Lou’s, coming? It’s not like her to miss training, it’s probably nothing but neither of them is answering,” he offered.
Nodding I joined him and we did a light sprint which nearly killed me, screw the Nuckelavee I might not last through this training.
Their house was like Conor’s, large wooden cabin, beautiful. The front door was open and as we went inside, Conor put his arm out to keep me back. I could smell it, too, coppery, strong. Blood.
Conor looked around, I pressed my back to the wall, dread rising in me and he reached for the bokkens that Lou had brought over the day before, now propped up in the umbrella stand. Carefully pulling them out one by one, he handed one to me, I wasn’t keen on going on having had only two training sessions.
“Just stay behind me, keep watch,” he whispered.
Conor’s world was full of nightmares, I guessed he had to be a werewolf to cope with it. As we stalked slowly through the hallway, the silence was eerie and heavy. The home looked like it hadn’t long been occupied but now no people, just the rich smell of metal hanging in the air. Nothing downstairs, he slowly turned the handle of the door that led out into the back but shot back several feet in surprise as Steve appeared suddenly. Complete with burning crimson eyes.
“Shit me!” Conor cried. Steve, outside the glass back door grinned, teeth like pins, the next moment smashing through it to get in.
Poised with the wooden sword, two hands on the hilt held up behind his right shoulder Conor waited. I held mine at arm’s length standing to one side of Conor.
“Shouldn’t we run?” I jabbered.
“No, he looks like he’s been possessed by a spirit, I’m hoping not to kill him, he’s my friend but, if we run he’ll follow and others could get hurt. Your second test as a warrior Emma, you’ve already proved that you’re brave.”
“Oh, shit then!”
With the stealth of a cat about to pounce, Steve leapt at us, “Conor, good to see you. And you’ve brought your girlfriend... welcome Emma. There’s no point in fighting, you’ll only meet your maker, in her case God, in yours I’m not so sure,” he sneered.
Spirits have a sense of humour?
Steve jumped up and somehow launched off from standing, Conor moved swiftly back as Steve came down, Conor whacked Steve successively with the wooden sword, right then left on his temples. Steve fell to the floor like a wet rag.
“Em, go the kitchen and bring salt, it’s in the ground floor cupboard next to the cooker. Bring it all.”
Carrying the biggest bag of salt I’d ever seen in a kitchen, he whispered, “Now make a circle around Steve, then salt the doorways and window ledges. Hurry, be fast.” As I tipped the salt, he rummaged on the table, then pulling out a large pen started to daub strange inscriptions on the wall.
Steve came around, and spoke in a voice that wasn’t human, deep, resonating, the ground reverberated. Conor stood directly in front of him but outside the circle and started chanting what sounded like German, struggling as if tied up, Steve moved, strained and blood wept from his red eyes. Conor wasn’t distracted and continued on as his friend wrestled the spirit inside, Steve wailed louder, Conor chanted louder. My legs shook, the ground trembled and a plume of grey that morphed into a wraith-like creature shot out of Steve and hovered in front of Conor, then moved quickly to me.
Closing my mouth, I looked to Conor who walked over, the old dialect still reciting from him and the thing flew out of the house.
All of us gasped. I went to the kitchen and got a large glass of water, coming back I handed to Steve who, since I saw him a few minutes ago looked like he had aged ten years. Wearily he took the glass, hands shaking like crazy, glugging the water fast.
“Where’s Lou?” Conor asked sharply.
Catching his breath, Steve answered, “I don’t know. We were just about to go out when something shot through the door, crippling us double. I came around, I don’t remember a thing!”
“What were you chanting?” I asked Conor.
Taking a deep breath, he sat down and explained, “It’s from an ancient Grimoire from the Black Forest. We’re all taught some of the basics, how to dispel demons, how to protect ourselves and families, warding off vampires-that kind of thing. As you can see it doesn’t always work if they’re lurking and pounce on you. Now we need to find Lou, but for Steve I think setting up wards around our place-that’s got to be a priority, too.”
“Can’t wards keep the Nuckelavee away?” I wondered.
“Unfortunately, no, we had put some talismans around but evidently they weren’t strong enough. There’s loads on stones with bind runes dotted around the forest.”
Conor pulled his phone out, “Pete? I need you to do some divining, to see if you can locate Lou. I’m here with Steve, he’s alright now but they were attacked by spirits. Can you come now?”
After his call, “Pete’s at the centre just teaching a lesson. He’s heading over, he’ll be here in twenty.” His pupils dilated, his face twisted Conor looked tired. Of course, he’d been up most of the night hammering on my door. Pale and shaken Steve searched around the garden, a look of hopelessness written on his face. She wouldn't be here.
A phone buzzed, Conor pulled it from his pocket, relief in his voice, “Sabian! Thank God. We have a problem, I’m at Steve’s can you come now?”
Don’t on Any Account, Talk to Strangers.
Strength and confidence started to soar through me, in less than a few weeks my life had changed, I’d faced a demon, my beloved uncle had gone and now I’d faced a powerful spirit. And I’d watched my friend turn into a wolf but wagging his tail-that still made me laugh, or cringe, I’m not sure which.
Sabian was tall, rugged like Conor, had longish hair and looked like he spent most of his time outdoors. I guess being what they are, they spend their time in nature quite a lot.
Luke on the other hand had short dark blonde hair, he was handsome in a non-conventional way, his face was worn but young, signs of worry and he didn’t smile. He had a hard look about him, not mean but I guessed he didn’t laugh a lot. He was smaller than the others, I remembered then he was the dragon shifter. I might have imagined a dragon shifter to be bigger, ripped like a wrestler, but he just looked regular. Except for his eyes, they were bright green, dark but bright almost as if there was a light shining behind them. He looked part of their pack though, jeans, boots, leather jacket, black t-shirt and tattoos. Contrary to his look, he was very well spoken.
Sabian introduced them, his face full of concern.
“Emma, hello. I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances. This is Luke, we knew your uncle well, his loss,” Sabian shook his head, “Is very hard to bear. We will kill this thing, believe me.”
“Thank you. I wonder why Ethan never mentioned any of you-unless it was to keep our worlds apart.” I said. “But you won’t kill the Nuckelavee-I want its head.”
Sabian grinned with the rest of them, for a second I assumed they were mocking me, but I remembered Conor had frozen in its tracks, my uncle had been defenceless, I alone was the only one who could move. Until the last moment.
That had to mean something.
Whilst Steve and Conor had explained to Sabian, Luke studied the symbol on the wall.
Turning to me, “Emma, see this?”
Walking over I couldn’t help but notice that he smelled of hot fudge, must be something in his hair. Like a warm hearth he radiated a heat, comforting, he turned to me, his eyes moving over me.
“Touch it,” he said lightly.
Placing my finger tips on the sigil a buzz thrummed through them, he placed his hand over mine. The energy increased along with my heart rate, feeling his breath as he stood almost into me. Noticing silence from the others, I was too embarrassed to turn around, Luke started speaking in Germanic and something surged through me like electricity, powerful, raw, savage. Gasping, he took away his hand, rubbed my arm, “Are you alright?”
Biting my lip to hide my fear, I nodded.
“It’s fascinating isn’t it,” he whispered.
There was something intriguing about him, the way his eyes studied my face, as if he hadn’t seen a woman before. Something primal, wild.
“How did you do that?” Conor asked him.
Luke shrugged, “I don’t know, I guess I must have learned it a long time ago. You know, energising sigils,” he sighed.
Pete arrived complete with tarot cards, they busied themselves lighting candles while Pete sat on the floor, closed his eyes and concentrated on answers.
“Steve, pull five cards with your question,” Pete asked calmly.
Small eyes and mouth tight, Steve’s anger and anxiety were bound tightly, that I could see.
His hand slightly shaking as he cut the pack and placed it front of Pete.
Pete turned the cards over, I could tell even Luke was holding his breath. The Tower was the first card, Pete nodded thoughtfully. “This tells me that something big, probably catastrophic has happened, I know we know that, but the cards echo that. However, out of the ashes a new beginning, a new structure can be built.”
Gracefully, Pete turned the next card, it was five of cups. “Something is lost but one cup remains upright and the seeker has to go find that missing piece. Obviously, that’s Lou, or her...” Pete cleared his throat, “Or her soul is lost.”
