A Reckoning so Sweet (The Reckoning Book 3)

by Candace Wondrak

  Eve and Mike huddle around, and Penny squeezes my shoulder in a show of support. Deb, meanwhile, does her best to keep the kids’ attention off the Warlock and his crazy spell.

  “Okay,” David mutters. “Only have one shot at this. Wish me luck.” Spell book in one hand, he holds the single crystal above the map. Staring at the chant written in the book, he begins to read it off.

  I understand not a single word or phrase of it.

  The crystal starts to shake in his hand, and when his fingers release it, it just falls like a regular old crystal. Much ado about nothing.

  “Let’s try that again,” David quickly says, grabbing the crystal. “Now, everybody, think really hard of the undead bloodsucker we’re looking for. The energy should help the spell.” Satisfied only when everyone else closes their eyes, he begins again.

  A hum echoes through the cave, and this time, when David releases it, it flies straight down, burying itself into the map, deep in the book’s pages. David picks up his book, wipes the small trail of blood from his nose, and flips through the pages. When he sees what page the crystal stopped digging at, he mutters, “Shit.”

  “What is it?” I ask, but my question is drowned out by the large group of crystals. They shake, trembling, lifting in the air. I look at David as everybody else steps back. When my brows raise, all David does is shake his head. He’s not doing that.

  Since no one else has the balls—and I’m tired of this game—I move toward the levitating batch of crystals, putting both hands on the rock. A zap of electricity goes through me, right as David shouts my name.

  A bad idea, apparently. I shouldn’t have grabbed the crystals.

  A bright, white light blasts me, morphing and changing until it’s technicolor, a multitude of colors I’ve never seen before. So bright, so blinding. I try to take my hands off the crystals, but it’s like they’re glued. I am stuck, and I’ve made yet another mistake. Sure hope it doesn’t detonate the cave and kill everyone in it.

  I hear everyone shouting various things, but soon even their voices are drowned out by the light. Looking around me, I can’t see anyone else. Nothing but the light that radiates from the crystals. Dots of blue and purples, reds and pinks, slither through the whiteness, a wind lapping at my face.

  Opening my mouth, I try to talk, to call out to David, but when I form words, I don’t hear a thing. This doesn’t seem good, does it? It’s kind of funny. My life is just one big disaster after another. It never stops.

  And why should it? I get what I deserve.

  The lights around me start to twist until it looks like I’m in a tunnel of radiance. The crystals in my hands turn to dust, escaping from my grip, glowing away from me in the luminosity. My feet give way, and I feel like I’m falling, farther and farther down. Physics don’t apply here, wherever here is.

  This is nothing like portaling, that’s for sure.

  The tunnel funnels me down, and I emerge from the blinding light and fall fifteen feet to the ground, a loud groan coming from me as I hit the grass.

  Wait.

  My fingers run through the grass, alive and wet with dew.

  What?

  I clumsily stand, spinning. Mushrooms taller than trees I’ve seen stand, their undersides glowing various neon colors. Flowers pulsate around their trunks, their petals razor sharp. Also glowing. My head tilts up, and I see that trees the size of skyscrapers reach toward the sky, whose darkness is completely blotted out with their thick, wooden branches. Everything seems to shine, and it’s so bright all around that I can’t tell what time of the day it is.

  A small, six-inch bug flies into my face, and I swat it away, hitting it and sending it flying to the ground. The bug lets out a moan, huffing up and shaking off its wings. It launches into the air, irate.

  “I don’t trip your kind when you walk on those ugly things, so I’d appreciate it if you’d let me fly in peace,” the bug says.

  I blink, realizing it’s not a bug.

  It’s…a pixie?

  Not like the ones I’ve seen. This one sends a gust a glitter with each bat of his wings, completely naked, like a little Ken doll. No penis, no nipples, no hair. The ones on earth take after us, I guess, with miniature private parts to match. Though pixies aren’t exactly plentiful with the deforestation and pollution—and now the apocalypse.

  Harrumphing, the pixie shoots me a frown and flies off.

  I watch it go, my mouth nearly on the floor.

  Where in the world am I?

  A sharp howl rings in the distance, and I shiver involuntarily. I tense both hands, seeking to gather some heat, some fire, anything to protect myself against whatever made that unearthly sound. But nothing happens. No heat forms on my hands, no fire comes. I look mental as I flex my hands, waiting for something that’s clearly not going to happen.

  This is a great day. First I had sex with the Devil while Dagon watched, and now I’m stuck in some weird place by myself—and, to top it off, my magic fire isn’t working.

  The wolf that howled appears above me, crouching on a glowing mushroom top. Its tail flicks back and forth, its eyes a startling orange. Slit in rage, narrowing at me. Double the size of the wolves at home, three times the size of a normal Werewolf, this one puts every one I’ve seen to shame. Its claws dig into the mushroom, its fangs bared. Murder rested in its eyes.

  I gulp, feeling underdressed for this. I still wear the Greek dress.

  A pack of wolves of similar sizes, each with their own unique set of eyes, appear out of nowhere. I’m surrounded.

  And completely screwed.

  I turn to try to, you know, run, but my legs are trampled and my back tackled. The wolf with burning orange eyes is atop me, its snout inches from my face, its fangs so sharp and deadly.

  “Okay,” I whisper to the grass. “If you’re going to eat me, just eat me. I won’t stop you. That’s the kind of day this has been for me.”

  The wolf retracts its snout a bit, like it understood what I said. Within seconds its vehemence against me is back, and it opens its mouth, ready to take a chunk of me. Another wolf from its pack leaps from its position, standing near my head, staring down the wolf on top of me. This one’s eyes are a bright purple, its fur a light auburn. While smaller than the one atop me, it’s built fast and strong, more limber and agile. They have a wordless stare-down, and soon the wolf above me steps off.

  I am cautious to stand, meeting the strange eyes of my wolf savior. “Thank you. I think.” I point away from the pack of wolves. “It’s been great, but I should go.” I turn to start walking away when a smooth voice breaks through the snarling and growling.

  “You will not make it far. There are others in the forest who would not hesitate to either rip your throat out or make you their own.”

  The last words make me feel ill, for I am sick of being made anyone’s, and I’m slow to face the purple-eyed wolf. Though, it’s a wolf no longer. A tall, lithe, naked woman stands before me, her ears sharp and pointed, nearly as long as my hand. Those ears make David’s points seem normal and Human. Her eyes, large and round, dominate her face, the bridge of her nose smooth. Hair the color of her wolf’s fur flows down her back. She looks vaguely Human, yet even with a quick glance, anyone would be able to tell that she isn’t.

  Finding my voice, I say, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  Her head tilts, and the wolf pack gathers in her rear, including the orange-eyed one that nearly ate me. I give him the evil eye, and I see his lip curl into a wolfish smile. “How did you get here, Child of Man?”

  “I don’t know. There was a tunnel of light, and then I fell.” I point to the area above us. “Right there. Plop. Kind of hurt.”

  She looks to her pack. They stare at her, waiting for her orders. She is, I note, their leader. A woman in charge? A woman as their leader? Why does that shock me? It shouldn’t, but it does.

  “Come with us, Child of Man, and perhaps you will be able to leave this forest alive,” she says.
<
br />   Well, when she puts it like that, how can I refuse?

  Plus, I’ve got no heat. No fire.

  I glance down at my chest, where Lucifer’s Mark is. Or…where it’s supposed to be. Studying my hands, I find that Dagon’s Mark is also gone. Does that mean I don’t have my invincibility? If I would’ve gotten mauled by the orange-eyed wolf, would it have killed me?

  Great.

  We walk to a rocky overhang, where the Werewolves’ camp is. Leather skins lay on the ground, makeshift blankets. Wooden chests to hold their valuables, whatever valuables Werewolves can have. The overhang is littered with stalactites of glowing red crystals, and the woman shrugs on a spotted pelt, covering her nakedness.

  She is regal, and though her face and form are a bit odd at first, she’s uniquely beautiful.

  “I am Elysia, Child of Man, and this is my pack. Once bitten by the Beast, we were exiled from Court.” As she speaks, the red hue tints her pale, white skin.

  “The Court,” I repeat, watching as the wolves around me morph into their original forms. Their faces mirror hers: huge, almond-shaped eyes, no nose bridge, and knife-sized ears. Even the shortest one—Elysia—is more than a foot taller than me. Are these…Fae?

  “You are not on your world anymore,” Elysia says.

  The orange-eyed wolf man pauses near her, shooting me a glare. “You are in the realm of the Fae. Be grateful we did not end your short, useless life,” he growls, rumbling in his chest. Scars line his body, and as the rest of the pack puts on the skins of other animals, he is content to stand there, nude and menacing.

  I force a laugh, though it comes out stale. “You’re making me feel warm and fuzzy. Careful, otherwise I might start to think we’re friends.” My joke falls flat, because I’m not really in the mood for it.

  “You should be careful,” he mocks me, “for when you are not looking, I will eat you alive.”

  Elysia holds up a hand, stopping his aggressive talk. “That’s enough, Raegar. Leave us.” He storms off, and her purple eyes follow him as he huffs and puffs like the big bad wolf he pretends to be. “Ignore him. Sometimes the Beast inside takes hold and causes us to be a little…uncivilized.”

  Crossing my arms, I ask, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a Vampire around here?”

  “A Vampire,” she says the word strangely, like it’s foreign on her tongue. “What is a Vam-pire?”

  “An undead creature from my world whose food consists of the warm blood of the living.”

  “A Night Child?” She shakes her head. “Not in these forests.”

  Why is my life never easy? Why can’t Cloud be right in front of me? Then again, even if he was, how in the world am I supposed to get back? I was meant to wait for Dagon, so he could portal us back. Now…oh, god. I hope I’m not stuck in fairy-land.

  “Well,” I start, glancing at the forest around us, “I have to find him.”

  “If you venture into the forest alone, you will die.”

  Blunt, straight to the point. However, let’s be honest: that’s not going to stop me.

  Remembering Lucifer above me, his wings spread, the look on his face, I shiver. “I’m not afraid to die,” I whisper, speaking the truth. “I’d rather die surrounded by friends and family in ripe old age, but that was never in the cards for me.”

  Elysia tilts her head, her long, straight hair cascading down her shoulder, above the fur that she clings to. “Are all Children of Men as peculiar as you?”

  I shrug, because I don’t rightly know. I’ve never had many friends to begin with, so my pool of comparison is smaller than it should be.

  Why do I feel like I’m screwed?

  The meat of whatever animal the wolves caught smells…good. Many of them eat it raw, bloodied and carnal, but Elysia started a fire to cook a piece for me. Once it’s done, she saunters to my side and sits on the leather pelt, her legs grazing mine as she offers it to me.

  I sit, hunched, a small striped pelt hugging tightly around my back, covering my dress, and gratefully take it. Holding the stick the meat is attached to, I give it a sniff. Though there are no spices, it still smells delicious.

  “Go ahead,” Elysia says. “There is no blood left. It’s fully-cooked. I made certain of that for you.” As she speaks, the pack around us finishes their bloody meal. The men and women pair off, including Raegar. They start doing the other thing animals do best, the other things besides hunting.

  “Oh, boy,” I mutter unenthusiastically. “Dinner and a show.”

  Elysia, the only wolf not pairing off, brings her violet gaze to me. “The bodily pleasures of the world should not be cause for frustration.”

  Laughing incredulously, I manage to say, “You have no idea.” I bite into the meat, pushing Lucifer and Dagon out of my mind. I don’t want to think of either of them, I don’t want to relive those moments anymore. I want…well, I’m not exactly sure what I want.

  The ones having sex start to moan, and I can’t listen to them anymore. I get up, aware that Elysia is confused at my uncomfortableness. As I go to the edge of the camp and move a few feet out from the rocky overhang, I’m watched by one particularly intent orange-eyed Fae, who should be busy plowing into his partner.

  A gentle breeze tousles my hair, and I undo the rest of the pins, letting the curls fall wherever they may. I feel naked in the dress, even with the animal pelt around me. I feel powerless without Dagon’s Mark. Mostly, I feel empty because of what I’ve done.

  My stomach gurgles, and I grimace. Maybe my stomach doesn’t like the meat. Maybe…

  Another sharp pain; this one makes me double over.

  “There was a time when the Children of Men knew better than to trust any food given to them by a Fae.” Raegar appears next to me, sweat glistening on his naked body. His lithe form holds muscle, his wide eyes narrowed down at me from his two-foot taller figure. As tall as any basketball player, back when that was important. “I see your people have not kept the legends.”

  I drop the meat, glancing back to Elysia, who simply stares, watching my fate unfold. The woman who was, until now, Raegar’s partner also watched with piqued interest. The others are still too busy getting down and dirty to care.

  A sharp pain shoots through me, and I fall forward, collapsing on the ground. My fingers stretch out in the grass, growing longer, growing claws. Hair sprouts from my skin as Raegar takes the pelt off my shoulders.

  “The first time is easier if you do not fight the Beast,” Raegar says, sounding very similar to Lucifer.

  “No,” I mutter, letting out a scream as my jaw breaks and reforms. My entire body feels like each bone is breaking, shaping into a wolf’s. It hurts beyond words. Soon my screams are muffled by the growth of a snout and fangs, and my hands mold into paws. The dress given to me by Aphrodite tears into shreds, the sandals no longer tied to my ankles. A tail grows on my backbone, new muscles that I’ve never had.

  Raegar watches my entire transformation, rapt. Once it’s over, and I’m fully wolf, he smiles. “Such a small thing,” he talks about my size, which is less than half of their smallest wolf. He reaches to pet me, but my jaws snap at him, and he pulls away just quick enough to avoid my teeth.

  I turn tail and run, stumbling at first, not knowing how my new body works.

  He lets out a growl, starting to morph and follow me, but Elysia calls out, “No. Let her run. She will come back to us. They always do.” Raegar releases the inner wolf and returns to his partner whose legs remained spread for him.

  I run. I run and run and run, my lungs never tiring. The glowing forest doesn’t seem as frightening as it did before. The bizarre animals and pixies stay away from me. Though the forest is brimming with life, I’m totally alone.

  Tricked by Lucifer, tricked by the wolf Fae—the list could be longer, if I extend the timeline. Tricked by Hades, by Gabriel, by Mike. Who haven’t I been tricked by?

  My wild, free running eventually brings me to a pool of water. Little pixies hop on its surface, their fee
t sending ripples of light through the pool. No bigger than a car, the pool is small, but it affords me a chance to look at my reflection.

  Even though I know, I’m still shocked with I see a wolf staring back at me. A sad, depressed wolf.

  I fall over, exhaling through my nostrils. Laying on my back, I lift my front paws up and wriggle them, trying to move them like I would my fingers. It doesn’t work and I’m glad that I’m alone.

  Although, if I wasn’t alone, maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all.

  My self-pity party is interrupted by a growl. I lift up my head, seeing the orange-eyed wolf, Raegar, positioned on the giant branch that rests above the pool. The playing pixies hide when he leaps off, handing near me. By the expression in his unique gaze, I can tell he either wants to kill me or have me like he had his partner a little while ago. Or both.

  Raegar’s four, strong legs step over me, and he stands atop me, his chest rumbling, his lip risen to show his canine teeth. I don’t bother moving. His snout digs into my neck, tugging at the fur, trying to get me up. And when I don’t get up, he bites my neck harder, drawing blood and eliciting a yelp from me.

  I stand on all fours, and before Raegar can do anything more, I stumble forward, into the pool. I fall, for it’s far deeper on its edge than it looks, and struggle to get out, all the while he watches, waiting. Once I’m out, I shake my body, water droplets flying everywhere.

  Raegar’s claws dig into the ground, and he pounces. I’m sure he thinks he could easily best me. He’s bigger, more experienced when it comes to his wolf form, and more maniacal. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s those who are the biggest also fall the hardest.

  I jump to the right, avoiding his teeth the best I can. He’s able to twist and get one of my back paws in his mouth, and he clamps down hard, breaking the pad and flesh simultaneously. Somehow I manage to wriggle it free and land a kick to his jaw.

  I can’t best him in head-to-head combat. To win this, to survive, I have to fight dirty.

  With a limp, I hurriedly place my wolf body beneath his. Every time he moves, I move with him, and since he can’t bend and stretch his neck at that harsh an angle, he can’t bite me.