As the wearg took a lumbering step closer to Talbot, the wolf slunk up behind it. Silent as death, it waited until the monster had nearly reached Mr. Talbot to sink its teeth into the wearg’s flank. The beast roared and spun toward him. Wesley clung to it. The nails in their paw ripped away as they slid through the frozen ground as the wearg tried to shake them off. Tearing a hunk of flesh away, Wesley fell back and dropped into a crouch. The wolf had stepped aside to let him control its form. It only did that when humans were involved. They were too unpredictable for his wolf to work alone, and no matter what face it wore, the wearg was still a man beneath its skin. Their heart quickened against their ribs as the monster loped over. When the wearg charged for them, Wesley dove out of the way and doubled back, narrowly avoiding a swipe of its claws. The wearg roared as the sword sunk into its side. Blood dripped from its ribs and the corner of its mouth. Nadir Talbot looked from the blade to the monster with wide eyes before searching out Wesley’s gaze. The damned fool should have run while he had the chance. Wesley had counted on him doing so.
Before Wesley could move, the beast was on Talbot. It tackled him, its paws shoving him into the grass. Wesley sprinted over to find the creature’s jaws hooked around the shaft of Talbot’s cane. His arms shook as the monster bore down. Talbot grimaced in pain and the glow in the wearg’s eyes gleamed brighter. Backing up, Wesley took a running leap and slammed into the creature’s neck. The cane flew into the bushes while Wesley and the wearg scrambled on the ground in a ball of fur and teeth. The monster nipped and bit at him. Fur tore from his neck and side and back, but Wesley pushed down the pain. As the bites became more insistent, he whipped his body until he could finally kick and propel himself out of reach. The wearg tried to turn to catch him again only to feel the bite of Wesley’s jaws on its abdomen. The putrid taste of blood and offal filled his mouth, but Wesley didn’t care. The man had killed and would kill again if no one did anything to stop it.
Before Wesley could release the loop of intestine, jaws clamped around his neck. Pain ripped through his head and throat as the he flipped and kicked, but the monster held firm. Blackness crawled into his vision. Death would be merciless, it seemed. Blood poured into his throat, but as he coughed and gagged, the monster screamed in pain. Wesley fell to the earth in a heap, pain drowning his senses as he staggered to his feet.
The wearg reared up, struggling to pull the blade from its eye. Nadir Talbot flattened against a tree just out of reach, his eyes darting between Wesley and the monster. Wesley’s ribs ached with the flutter of his lungs. If the wearg came back, he would be dead. Measuring the wearg step for step, Wesley followed it in case it should attack Talbot. With clumsy paws, the wearg tore out the blade, sending a spirt of blood from its eye. The monster took half a dozen hazy steps before it sagged to the forest floor, its leaking entrails tracing its path behind it. The magic seeped from the creature’s body until it deflated back to Gernier’s naked form. Slowly, Talbot approached the body, searching for any sign of life. When Gernier didn’t stir, he gingerly picked up the sword from the ground and returned it to its sheath without looking at the blood caked to the blade.
Nadir’s look of tired triumph faltered as he turned to Wesley’s wolf. “Wesley, are you able to turn back like that?”
Like what? he wanted to ask, but at the heaviness of his head and the pain in his sides, he understood. Blood dripped onto the ground beneath him, and with each patter, more energy seemed to sap from his limbs. He had to get to London before they did for his plan to work. Wesley blinked through the fog, drawing back as a hand grazed his head. Taking a step back, his front leg slipped and before he could catch himself, he sagged to the damp earth. In his last fleeting glimpse of consciousness, Wesley prayed his father would forgive him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Last Minute Preparations
Nadir cradled Wesley Bisclavret’s limp body in his coat as he ran back to the house. Every now and again, the wolf stirred, growling or whimpering before slipping back into unconsciousness. Hefting the wolf closer, Nadir tried to put from his mind what he had seen. The creature had been the stuff of nightmares, and so had Wesley. He had never seen a wolf fight, except in the zoo, and it hadn’t been nearly as terrifying. Luckily, the wolf had been on his side this time. With his head lolling in his arms and his blood seeping through the remnants of his tattered coat, Bisclavret didn’t look nearly as terrifying. Nadir still hoped he didn’t get a second wind and take his throat out.
As Nadir crested the final corner before he reached the back of the house, voices drifted over the wind. The rain that had been barely more than mist moments earlier came down in an icy tattoo. It sluiced down the back of his neck into his collar. Flattening against a mock buttress, Nadir listened to the yelling coming from the clearing. It sounded like Bourgot and Elsworth. Nadir closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the wolf. His arms were shaking as much from panic as from pain as his fatigued muscles finally ran out of adrenaline. When no footfalls came in his direction, Nadir carefully put Wesley down and inched back toward the tree line. He jumped at the roar of an engine by the carriage house. They were leaving. He nearly sobbed in relief as he gathered Wesley up and dragged him back to the house.
The wolf’s breaths came in shallow pants as Nadir tightened his grip and pushed through the front door. Closing and locking the door behind him, Nadir placed Wesley on the foyer floor and ran for Emmeline’s room. He hoped to god she hadn’t gone with them. If any harm had come to her because he was a stubborn ass, he would never forgive himself. When he found her room still full of her things and devoid of fresh blood, he sagged with relief but immediately turned and ran back down the hall to find her. All he could hear as he searched were his footfalls and the rough breaths issuing from his lips. It was only when he passed the east wing that he heard a heavy thumping. Slowing his steps, Nadir listened for the source of the sound. Most of the wing was empty, having been the nicer rooms that were reserved for the upper class guests, but at the end of the hall, one door rattled on its hinges as Nadir approached.
“Who is there?” Colonel Roulet called. “Let me out at once!”
“It’s Nadir Talbot.” Looking around quickly, he didn’t see a key or any way to open the door. “Sir, I don’t have the key. Is there another?”
“It’s down in the servants’ quarters.”
Nadir sighed. There wasn’t time for that. He didn’t know where he was looking, and with Wesley losing blood and Emmeline missing, he couldn’t risk it. Running down the hall, Nadir found the wall of weapons gleaming in the morning sun. He yanked the massive battle ax from its hooks and stumbled back down the hall.
“I couldn’t find the key, but I’m going to get you out. Back away from the door, sir.”
Before he could hear the man’s response, Nadir swung the ax into the door. The wood splintered beneath the heavy blade after the second blow. By the fourth, a hunk had broken away to reveal Roulet behind it. Nadir panted and wiped the sweat from his brow as the other man gave the door a swift kick. Finally it buckled and the latch released. Colonel Roulet emerged, his posture rigid and his face set in a fearsome scowl. His wife held fast to his arm with a soothing coolness. He gave her a grateful look as he stepped over the wreckage, but when his gaze landed on Nadir, he startled.
“Good Lord, what happened to you? Are you injured?”
“No, but Wesley Bisclavret is. If you have any bandages or antiseptic, please get it. He needs tending to badly.”
“I’ll see to him,” Mrs. Roulet said. At Nadir’s confused look, she added, “I was a nurse.”
“Thank you, Caroline. I’ll find what you need. Mr. Talbot. Where’s Miss Jardine?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out. Did you see Elsworth leave with her?”
“No, but we haven’t left our room since last night.”
Nadir stopped in each room, listening for any sign of Emmeline. She had to be there. There was no way she would willingly go with Els
worth, and she wouldn’t have left without Wesley or without spilling some blood in the process.
“Emmeline!” Nadir yelled at the top of his lungs. He waited. There, he swore he heard something. It could have been his heart in his ears or his mind playing tricks, but it sounded like a faraway voice. There were servants’ halls and old bits of the ancient abbey tucked under the house, and she could be in any of those passages. Following the sound into the library, Nadir paused. In the middle of the floor was her tome bundled in cloth. He had seen her cradling it before she found the letters. Raising his gaze to the walls of books, Nadir’s eyes snagged on a shelf. It stood further away from the wall, blocking a faded tapestry of a trapped unicorn. Before he could finish putting the pieces together, he shoved the shelf aside. It tipped, spilling its contents onto the floor as Nadir flung the wall hanging aside to reveal an iron ring. Biting back the pain in his sore limbs, he pulled until the old hinges squealed and the stone passage opened.
Beyond the line of shadows, undulant light illuminated the Medieval reliefs, but as he took a step inside, the passage fell dark and Emmeline appeared before him. Her eyes seemed even larger than usual, liquid and disbelieving.
“Em, you may hate me, but you don’t know how happy I am to see you,” Nadir said, his voice strangely thick at seeing her alive and unharmed apart from the dust in her wayward hair.
Lurching forward, Emmeline collided with him. Her arms latched around his chest and her face disappeared into the fabric of his bloodied shirt. Nadir released a long breath and held her close. Relief washed over him knowing that they had made it to daybreak. The steamer she had hired would be coming soon, and they could leave.
Slowly pulling away with a sniff, Emmeline looked from his face to his shirt. “Whose blood is this? Are you hurt?” she asked, her voice rising in alarm.
“No, I’m fine, but Wesley isn’t. Gernier came after me as a wearg. Wesley fought him off. Gernier is dead, but Wesley is hurt.”
“How hurt?”
“He’s lost some blood. I don’t know much about wounds, but the wearg did a bit of damage. Mrs. Roulet is going to try to stop the bleeding.”
Moisture rimmed her eyes, but she didn’t waver. “Take me to him, please. I need to speak to him.”
“I will, but he’s still a wolf right now. He couldn’t shift back.”
Emmeline nodded silently. Nadir held up the tapestry as she stepped into the room. She stood beside him but didn’t appear to see. For a moment, Nadir feared she might faint as he had done. Her mind seemed far away, but as he placed the grimoire in her hands, her gaze returned to the present. Gently holding her arms, Nadir felt her stiffen beneath his fingers before relaxing a fraction.
“Emmeline, he will be all right. Your brother is tough, like you.”
“But you don’t know that. I just found them, Nadir. I can’t lose them already.”
“You won’t. Come on, let’s go see him.” When Emmeline didn’t move, Nadir put his arm around her shoulders. “You are the strongest, most terrifying person I have ever met. Whatever awaits us in the hall or in town, I know you can handle it. You won’t swoon like me.”
A huffed laugh escaped her lips. Slowly, she lifted her face until they were eye to eye. “You came back for me.”
“Of course I did. I would never leave you.” Nadir swallowed hard and wiped the remnants of a cobweb from her hair. “No matter what I’ve done in the past, I hope you know my feelings for you are true. Never doubt that.”
Emmeline frowned, her eyes narrowing as she took a step away from him. “Will you quit helping them?”
“After this? Of course I’m not going to help them. I would do it for you, but I’m definitely not getting involved again. No one told me there was a possibility of being eaten by monsters.”
Releasing a tired laugh, the spark seemed to return to her eyes. “Very well. I forgive you, Nadir Talbot. For now. I shall expect several bouquets and a certain manuscript as reparations for your appalling behavior,” she said with feigned nonchalance as she reached the threshold.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
As they traced their way back to the foyer, Emmeline’s fingers slid between his. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, tightening his grip when he felt her falter upon seeing Wesley. The wolf lay on its side on the rug. Blood stains ringed the carpet beneath its side and head, but it’s side still rapidly rose and fell. Mrs. Roulet knelt beside him, an alcohol-soaked piece of linen in her hand. The wolf lifted its head and growled at her as she moved to clean its wounds. It was exhausted, but a bite would still be nasty, even in this state. Drawing herself up, Emmeline released Nadir’s hand and stormed toward her brother.
“Wesley, knock that off this instant. Mrs. Roulet is trying to keep you alive, you stubborn ass.”
The wolf’s ears flattened as it turned its attention to Emmeline. A low warning growl rose in its throat as it drew its gums back to reveal blood-encrusted teeth.
“Trust me, wolf, the feeling is mutual,” she said, kneeling before him. “Change back. Change back, now.”
For a moment, the words hung in the air. The wolf stared her down as if fighting itself until it let out a moan. The wolf’s battered body began to shift. Mrs. Roulet backed up as paws elongated into hands and feet. Wesley released a strangled howl at the pain spreading through his ribs and head as a man emerged from beneath the trappings of the wolf. In shifting, his body had mended most of the wounds Nadir had noted earlier. The teeth marks on his face and neck had become deep bruises surrounded by bumps while the gash on his side was nearly black with blood. Red and purple blotches littered Wesley’s naked form as he braced himself against the rug. Keeping his head low, he gulped in air until his chest heaved so hard, Nadir could feel it in his own ribs. After a long moment of grimacing and strained noises in his throat, Wesley sat back on his heels and glared at Emmeline.
“You think maybe there was a reason I didn’t shift? You could have killed me doing that,” he snapped, his voice hoarse.
“Well, you didn’t have to listen to me. Besides, your wounds closed up. From the state you were in, it seems like my judgment was sound.” Ice crept into Emmeline’s voice. “You could have died by doing nothing, too.”
“Well, thank your wolf that he didn’t let me put stitches in. That would have been a waste of time,” Mrs. Roulet offered in a tone far cheerier than she looked. Dipping into the basin of water beside her, she offered Wesley a cup. “You look like you could use something stronger, but this will do.”
Wesley nodded and murmured his thanks. Eying them all over the rim of the cup, he shifted his legs to better cover himself. Despite his fire, his skin was ashen and slick with sweat. Emmeline let out a tremulous breath. Wesley was alive and his wounds were somewhat mended. As Mrs. Roulet tidied up her medical kit, the front door whined open. Colonel Roulet slipped through holding a sword, but he must have realized how he looked for he awkwardly cleared his throat and dropped the weapon into the umbrella stand. The moment his eyes fell on Wesley, his face brightened with relief. He clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, eliciting an awkward grin from her brother.
“Wesley, I’m glad to see you up and about,” he said warmly as he reached his wife’s side. Turning to the rest of the party, he continued, “Elsworth and the others took the last working steamers, including mine, but I thought I heard Miss Jardine’s cab coming down the road. They should be here shortly.”
“Could it be them returning?” Nadir asked.
“I doubt it. This sounded like a cab. My steamer runs smoother, and I would assume Lord Bourgot’s is an even newer model.”
When Mrs. Roulet left the room, Wesley tried to stand. Using the nearest table for leverage, he staggered upright. The muscles in his legs and arms shook to the point that Emmeline shoved Nadir toward him to steady him. At first, it looked as if he would slap Nadir’s arm away, but when Roulet joined him at his left, Wesley let them support him until he reached the steps. Wesley nodded
silently when Colonel Roulet offered to fetch his clothing. As Emmeline watched his panting breaths and the pain lancing through his features, guilt pooled in her gut. If the blood-stained carpet and Wesley’s haggard appearance were any indication, she was lucky she hadn’t killed him.
It had been foolish. She had been foolish. Pushing past him on the steps, Emmeline trudged upstairs to get her belongings. Next time, she would do better. They had a few hours before they would face the weargs and the Interceptors. This time, she would have others to worry about.
***
Nadir wondered how they must look to the cab driver. They were a motley group, far more people than Emmeline had told him he would be taking, one of which looked like he had gotten into fisticuffs with a heavy-weight boxer or a badger. The amply mustached man surprisingly spent more time staring at Nadir, as if he couldn’t figure out how he belonged with two respectable looking people and their well-dressed ruffian companion. Ignoring him, Nadir waited as the driver and Roulet tethered their trunks onto the back of the steamer. Wesley leaned against the house’s stone façade, steadying his hands by holding tight to the strap of his bag.
Emmeline seemed oddly quiet and had been since Wesley shifted. He wanted to ask her what was the matter or, better yet, kiss the pensive furrow between her brows until it eased. He knew she didn’t want to speak, so he didn’t ask. He didn’t kiss her either. He didn’t know where they stood after what happened. She had embraced him when he freed her from the passage, but he had wanted to kiss Lord Dorset when he let him hide in his house when Purcell chased him. Being presumptuous would only get his heart broken, so he would wait and see if after all the chaos, she still wanted his company.
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