“Family means everything to us. Have you had a chance to speak to the Redferns yet?”
“We’re getting together for Thanksgiving. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“That’s wonderful.”
I refill our beverages. “Say, I’ve been thinking. You really don’t need to stay in the cage tonight.” Everything feels so normal, so…right.
“Did you make that potion?”
By the look on his face, I’d have a hard time getting him to take it, even if I had. “No, but…”
Ren shakes his head, wiping his hands on his napkin. “I don’t want to chance it, especially if you’re having the gathering downstairs. We know a lot more than we did, but until I’m positive I have a handle on this, I don’t want to risk your health or anyone else’s.”
We clean the dishes, and I bring a few candies up to the tower with us. Lenore hops the steps and settles on the back of Eunice’s chair.
Ren and I freshen our respective beds and I take out the stack of letters. The first I choose is from Ezra a few months before he made it back to Story Cove and Eunice. “Seems like Ezra had a regular menagerie of animals he took care of,” I tell Ren.
He leans against the rear bars. “I want that, too. A big house, kids, lots of pets.”
Our eyes meet. “That sounds lovely.”
An invisible hand ruffles the letters in my hand, making me start. I look down and find the one on top is about Eunice and a pack of wolves she’s seen in the woods.
“Listen to this,” I tell Ren. “‘I saw them again—the giant wolves—last night at dusk. They are at least as tall as you, I imagine, if they were to stand on their hind paws. Is it possible dire wolves aren’t extinct, as long thought? Such dark eyes that are intelligent, and a preternatural stillness as they watched me gather the hens to put inside for the night. They’re probably to blame for the recent livestock killings, but I wonder. They seem to wish me no harm, and it’s almost as if they’re trying to tell me something. How I wish you were here to advise me!”
I scan through a few more and find another entry six months later. “There’s been skirmishes in the forest again between the settlers and the natives. I wish this all would stop! This land belonged to them, long before we came and invaded it. I love it here, that is the truth, but I feel terrible for them. They have children and such to care for, they wish for peace and a warm hearth, just as we do. If only we could all live in peace.”
“The wood walkers,” Ren says. “They were trying to protect the land and their homes.”
Before either of us can say anything else, my phone rings. It’s Robyn.
“Sorry, I was neck-deep in this investigation. That Wagner fellow is as unlikable as they get. I thought he was going to have a stroke when I refused to let him do his show.”
“I thought it was back on?”
“No way. The chamber tried, but I got Judge Mecum to declare the area off-limits. My officers are keeping an eye out to make sure Wagner doesn’t attempt it anyway.”
I put her on speaker so Ren can hear, too. “But you caught the killer, right?”
She hesitates for a second too long, alerting me that something is bothering her. “Martin Fusel appears to be our guy, but I don’t like it, Ruby. The video evidence Wagner gave me could be doctored. I’ve asked our tech expert to examine it, but it may take her a day or two. And although I found a drone in Fusel’s hotel room, he denies knowing anything about it. I’ve got that feeling in my gut that says he’s telling the truth.”
“Is there any way to prove it’s the one that hit Hargraves in the head?” Ren asks.
“On initial inspection, it looks like a strong possibility. It even has hair on it. Could belong to our vic or the animal who dragged him. It’s the right size, and it makes a noise like Poppi described, but the medical examiner can’t rule out other weapons.”
Ren and I glance at each other. “What kind?” I query.
“A thick tree branch or a baseball bat. Doc found tiny splinters in Hargraves’ hair, possibly from the weapon. He’s determined some of the puncture wounds are not from an animal bite. They’re too rough, again suggesting our victim was poked, perhaps postmortem. There’s more to this story than I’ve figured out.”
“Oh, dear.”
Ren’s eyes narrow. “He was hit after death? That suggests anger or rage.”
“Exactly.” Robyn agrees. “His attacker beat him up pretty good, that’s for sure. Whether the killer knew the victim was dead or not, I can’t say.”
“And the other man? Same cause of death?”
“Similar.” Someone speaks to her and she responds to them before coming back to me. “Look, I’ve got to go. As I feared, Wagner and his crew are still trying to cause trouble.”
She hangs up before I can even say goodbye. “I’ll be glad when tonight is over.”
“You and me both.”
“What made you shift that night?” I ask myself again.
“I thought it was due to me or the sacred ground being threatened.”
“Most likely, yes, but what if you witnessed the first murder?”
His brows rise and then he seems to get my drift. “And I tried to stop it. In my wolf form.”
I nod.
“If only I could remember that night.”
I toy with a piece of candy. “Well, I hate to bring it up, because I know you didn’t like it before, but there are spells I can do to enhance your memory.”
He screws up his nose and snags the last candy from the plate. He’s about to say something when my phone rings again.
“It’s Nonni,” I answer and put her on speaker. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, Ruby, you have to come.” She’s out of breath. “The wolves—they showed up again. The big ones. They were acting so strange. I don’t know what happened, but Poppi went to chase them off and…”
Her voice cracks, and my grip on the phone tightens. “What, Nonni? What happened?”
I hear her stifle a sob, fear plain in her voice. “He went into the woods with them, and Ruby, he hasn’t come back.”
Chapter Twenty-One
My first call is to Robyn—it goes to voicemail.
I grab my cape.
“What are you doing?” Ren asks from the cage.
I send a group text to my sisters and Snow. Uncle Odin doesn’t have a phone.
“I have to find Poppi. He could be in jeopardy.”
“But Robyn caught the killer.”
I slide the phone into my pocket. “You heard her, her gut says there’s something off about it.”
He grips the bars and his knuckles go white. “Then let her handle it.”
I tie the cape. “She’s not answering and may not get my message in time.”
“Let me go with you,” Ren demands. “I can help.”
“Not with the full moon.” I stop at the stairs and turn back. “I’m sorry, but you will change if you go out. That won’t help.”
He rattles the bars, making it slide slightly on the floor. “It’s too dangerous for you alone. At least take Matilda.”
The spell on the cage holds, but I covertly send another tendril to reinforce it. “Don’t worry. I can handle this.”
With another wave of magick, I cause the lock to become invisible so he can’t undo it. Lenore squawks and flies to my arm.
Ren frowns at the now concealed lock. “You don’t trust me?”
My heart sinks at the hurt in his voice. “I’m sorry.”
I turn once more to the steps.
“Wait! You said one of the pros of being a werewolf is my enhanced senses. I can sniff Poppi out for you. And I have increased strength to protect you.”
He’s making this terribly hard for me. I don’t look back, knowing I can’t meet his eyes. “I’ll be careful, and my family is on the way. Poppi may be in danger, I can’t just sit here.”
His voice rings out after me as I hustle down the stairs, “Ruby, no!”
Downstairs, Matilda is welcoming two of her followers into the shop.
“There’s a problem,” I tell her, pulling her aside.
She sees my fear. “What is it?”
I give her a brief summary of what Nonni shared. “I’m going after him.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“What about your group?”
“I’ll cancel. Give me a minute.”
I grab her arm. “Then I need you to go to the farm and stay with Nonni. She’s not one to sit on her hands, and the last thing we need is for her to go searching for him.”
She gives a furtive sigh. “You’re right. Okay, go. I’ll take care of her.”
I hurry outside and run for the path. Lenore takes flight. “Find Poppi,” I command.
The night is cloudy, wisps like pale shrouds thread over and under the moon’s glow. The predicted rain is close but not falling yet.
Lenore appears and disappears among the tree tops. I wrap my cloak tighter and pull up the hood. “Make me imperceptible to my enemies,” I whisper to it.
My flashlight beam seems too small as it scans the trees and path. It catches the glowing eyes of nocturnal creatures—toads, possums, raccoons, and others I’m unsure of, scampering amongst the foliage and debris.
The air is cold on my nose, the damp soil and rotting leaves pungent. I wrestle with the idea of calling for my grandfather—if anyone is out here, they’ll know I am, too.
The killer is caught, I reassure myself.
Please let them be caught!
After several minutes of fighting with myself and no humans in sight, I take the chance. “Poppi? Are you out here?”
There’s no reply, and I silently pray that Robyn does have the right person in custody.
Lenore caws and I twist to find her.
My beam glances off metal. A shotgun! It’s leaning on the boulder where I found the shoe and bloody prints. I swing the light in an arc, knowing instantly, it’s Poppi's.
He’s nowhere to be seen, however.
The sad hoot of an owl makes the hair on my arms stand up. A twig snaps. Leaves rustle behind me. I pivot in that direction. “Poppi? It’s me, Ruby.”
What appears in the illumination is not my grandfather.
Dark hair, long snouts, snarling mouths. My heart pounds so hard, it feels as though my rib cage will burst.
Three wolves, as big as Ren, their eyes glowing, stare back. They can see right through my cape’s invisibility ward.
And by the look in their gazes, they’ve decided I’m a threat.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Do not fear.” Eunice’s ghostly form hovers a few yards away.
I don’t take my eyes off the approaching pack. “Easy for you to say.”
She floats toward me, and I notice she’s surrounded by spirit animals, wolves, who stand nearly as tall as her elbow. They look as menacing in the shadows as their live counterparts. “They’re here to assist you, granddaughter.”
“You aided another set of wood walkers all those years ago, didn’t you?”
“This was their people’s land. When their tribe was forced off of it, they still had a strong tie to the spirit of this place. A few wouldn’t leave, no matter what the settlers did to them. These woods, and many that no longer exist, were tied to their souls. But because no one understood who and what they were, they were hunted, injured, some killed and others imprisoned. I did what I could to ease their pain.”
I feel such a bond with this woman. “I’m glad you did. I want to help them now, but I don’t know how.”
One of the living wolves paws the ground. Eunice nods. “Go with them, granddaughter. They’ll show you the way.”
I reluctantly glance at her then back to the animals in front of me. “I would be more willing to do that,” I tell them, “if you would kindly retract those fangs.”
Like synchronized swimmers, the three lay their ears back, lift their heads, and howl.
The eerie wail sends shivers through my already chilled body. “Yeah, that’s not helpful, nor inviting, if you want me to follow you.”
As one, they turn and race off. Eunice and her pack dissolve into the forest after them. “Godspeed, Ruby. You’ve been entrusted with a great gift.”
Another one I’m not sure I want. “So, that’s not weird or anything,” I say to Lenore, who’s on a nearby branch. “Follow the werewolves, Ruby. It’s only a creepy night in the woods where two men have been murdered.”
I scan the area again, biting my bottom lip. A light mist is falling now, coating my skin . Lenore takes flight, the branch bobbing up and down like a diving board. Her wings hit leaves and they cascade in front of me, laying a trail. “I feel like the heroine in a horror film.”
Should I go? Am I too stupid to live, or brave and daring?
At least my fourth great-grandmother put her stamp of approval on it. She wouldn’t lead me wrong. “Well, here goes nothing, I guess.”
Calling up my courage, I tramp into the shadowed forest.
The trees become more numerous, dense foliage tangling around my ankles. My breath billows white in the frosty air. Hustling to catch up, I twist my ankle on a large pine cone and fall to my knees. The jarring drop sends my flashlight flying.
I calculate we’re farther north than I have ever been, close to the national forest. After brushing dirt and leaves from my skirt, and rubbing my injured knees, I scramble to find the light.
But now I’ve lost the wolves. “Hey, guys? Where are you?”
Above, the moon peaks through the clouds and filters past layers of branches. A fog is rolling in from the river. “Perfect. Adding to the horror movie ambience.”
The scents of sugar pine and cypress fill my nose. I continue to shine the beam over the murky landscape, a rise in the terrain leading to a hill with a cave in the distance.
Definitely national park property.
The illumination catches the eyes of an animal. Not one of the wolves—Lenore.
“Did you find him?” I ask the bird.
She caws, opens her wings, and carefully zips through the skeletal branches of the nearby evergreens. I pivot and slide between two, noting multiple boughs are broken in places, as if large creatures have come through here.
When I finally spot the wolves, the relief makes my body sag. Lenore lands on a downed trunk, covered in vines and moss. She dances and flaps her wings, happy.
Against the ancient trunk leans my grandfather.
I wipe rain from my face, as I rush to him. “Poppi!”
A wolf flanks him on each side, the large animals poised like sphinxes. The third paces a few feet away, looking off into a dark copse beyond.
“Ruby.” Poppi’s voice is weak and he seems groggy. There is blood coming from a jagged cut on his temple.
He reaches for me and I take his hand. His fingers are ice cold.
Mine aren’t much better. I bend down and wrap him in my cloak as quickly as I can. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“My head.” He touches his temple with his free hand, then wipes blood on his pant leg. He pets a wolf on the neck. “I can’t remember exactly.”
He tries to push himself up to standing but can’t gain his balance, even with the tree at his back for support.
“Take it easy,” I tell him, and he once again slumps to the forest floor.
The wolves whine.
He rubs his head. “Something hit me.”
Fingers of frosty air seep into my bones without the warmth of my cape. I adjust it around his shoulders, and examine the wound. “This will heal you, but it takes time. Help is on the way. I’m going to get you on your feet in just a minute. For now, rest.”
He waves my ministrations off. “Someone’s in trouble. You need to find them.”
“Who?”
He shakes his head, grimacing as though the act causes him pain. “The wolves… That’s why they’ve been coming to the farm. To warn me and ask for aid. I didn’t figure it out
before.” He grips my arm. “The men who were killed—the animals were trying to save them.”
The three beasts growl low. The two beside Poppi stay put, but the third walks away, jogs back, and repeats the action. He wants me to follow him.
“I can’t leave my grandfather,” I state, hoping he understands.
The wolf returns, bringing himself face-to-face with me. He holds out one massive paw.
I hesitate, not sure I understand, but take it anyway. “What is it?” I ask.
All of a sudden, my hand warms to an unbearable heat. My vision whites out and I’m transported back in time, through a funnel, watching centuries fall away.
I see the inhabitants of this area long before other cultures invaded. The people, the families, and their connection to the land plays out like a movie in my head. In each generation, one man or woman steps forward—a wood walker.
They are shamans, mysterious and beautiful. Power radiates from each of them. I see them moving, sometimes alone, but mostly in groups, traveling from tribe to tribe, exalted and welcomed. They are healers, storytellers, wisdom keepers.
The forest reveals secrets, too. The trees become more dense, nature teeming with wildlife. Deer, rabbits, coyotes, and raccoons. Birds of all kinds, some of which are unfamiliar. From the meekest mouse to the fierce mountain lions and panthers, I feel as though I’m in a tropical rainforest, rather than southern Georgia.
And then, I see the first wood walker. He is only a child, but he talks to the trees, the water, the animals.
Those around him speak in hushed tones about his gift. He heals the wounded, sings over the dead to transport their souls to the afterlife, blesses the babies born to the tribe. As he grows, his gift becomes stronger. He can go for days without sleeping, without eating. He never gets sick. His youthful body becomes that of a strong, muscular, and powerful man. People travel great distances to see him, asking for healing. Even his touch is regarded as a blessing.
He looks like Ren.
As if he senses me, he meets my eyes at one point. I hold my breath, but the connection is so real, so intense, I can’t stay silent. “Can you see me?” I whisper.
Red Hot Wolfie Page 11
