by Kristy Tate
Lizbet heard the despair in his voice and reached over and took his hand.
“Well, I wasn’t turned as you were. My father, brothers, and uncles are all cursed... Cursed. It’s the term we use, but it’s not really so bad.”
Declan swallowed audibly. “How can you say that?”
“There’s an upside to everything. You may have noticed an increase in strength and speed, and your senses will heighten.”
“But for three nights of every month I turn into a monster.”
“Only if you choose.”
Declan leaned back in his chair. “So it’s true. I don’t have to be a werewolf?”
Dr. Madison placed his elbows on his desk. “There’s always a choice. You can learn to control the monster, or you can let the monster control you. You decide.”
Lizbet grinned as relief swept through her. She elbowed Declan. “That’s what we were saying.”
Declan grinned. “This is really good news.”
“But you will always be a werewolf.”
“But you just said—”
“Pretending otherwise would be a mistake. You must learn to subdue the creature and yet still honor it.” He smiled. “It’s much more difficult than you might think.”
“Tonight—“ Declan began.
“Yes, the first night of the full moon. Meet me in the woods beyond the town green. Do you know where I mean?”
Declan nodded.
Dr. Madison turned to Lizbet. “You may come, if you choose, but tell no one else.”
“And you’ll teach Declan how to not be a monster?”
“Yes. Although he will always be a werewolf—he needn’t be a monster.” He chuckled. “It’s all semantics, is it not? ‘Monster’ has a different definition for everyone.”
DECLAN AND LIZBET STOOD at the edge of the woods bordering the town green. The sun had melted into the mountains and the promise of a moon glimmered in a dusky sky. Declan’s skin tingled with nerves and dread.
“You can control this,” Lizbet said.
“Do you trust him? I’m not sure I completely trust him...”
“Why would he lie?”
Declan glanced over the town green’s long stretch of lawn and peered into the shadowy woods. “Why isn’t he here?”
“He’ll be here.”
He squeezed her hand. “You should go.”
“Huh-uh.” Lizbet shook her head and tightened her grip on Declan’s hand. “I’m not leaving.”
Declan tilted his head and gazed at the almost-there moon. “I could change any moment. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t want to...but I don’t trust myself.”
“I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t.” His thoughts went back to the conversation he’d heard on the wind. From his readings, he’d learned that pack members could read the thoughts of each other. That’s why he’d been privy to those half-whispers. A chill passed over him when he remembered that they meant Lizbet harm. “You have to go,” he said much more forcibly.
“No! I’m not leaving you with a pack of wild animals.”
“You like animals.”
“Of course I do, but—“
Declan interrupted her. “Here comes Dr. Madison. Please go home.”
She shuffled her feet. “I don’t feel good about this.”
He bent and gave her a quick kiss. “Go!” He watched her walk away before turning his attention to the professor striding across the green.
“Where is she going?” Dr. Madison asked after they greeted each other.
“I thought she’d be safer away from here.”
Dr. Madison chuckled. “Maybe so. Maybe so.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Ready to get started?”
“I suppose.”
“Good!” He motioned toward the woods. “After you, my boy.”
They walked a few paces in silence. The trees shivered in a slight breeze. Declan glanced around at the dark shadows, searching for the animals Lizbet counted as friends. He didn’t see any and he paused to wonder about that.
“Coming?” Dr. Madison asked without turning around.
Declan wondered about that, too, before remembering that as a werewolf, he, and he presumed the professor, had heightened senses.
As the darkness deepened, Declan’s tingling sensation increased. His heartrate picked up speed. “Professor?”
Declan stopped and stared at the hair on his arms growing thicker.
“Ah, yes, it’s beginning.” Dr. Madison stopped in front of him. “Don’t try to fight it. That never works.”
“I thought you said I have a choice.” Declan watched as the buttons popped off his shirt as his chest expanded.
“You do.” Dr. Madison waved at Declan. “You should probably just remove your pants before—”
The snap on Declan’s jeans flew into the night. Declan scrambled out of his pants. His own claws scratched his skin. He stared in horror at his furry thighs.
“You said I had a choice!” Declan yelled.
“You do. Here, watch.” Dr. Madison pointed at himself. “Now I am a man.” He turned his back on Declan and calmly removed his clothes before transforming into a wolf. He turned back. “And now I’m a wolf.”
He spoke, but he didn’t use his mouth. The communication was instantaneous but didn’t require vocal cords or even ears. It was as if Dr. Madison spoke directly into Declan’s mind. As Declan puzzled over this, he became aware of other conversations buzzing around him.
The girl!
Don’t let her go!
Declan screamed Lizbet’s name, but his voice turned into a long, shuddering howl.
In the Victorian fairy tale, the female’s role is merely passive. She is to sit and wait upon her tuffet, languish in a tower with nothing more taxing to do than grow her hair, or spin hay into gold—ever waiting upon her hero who will deliver her to her happily ever after.
From Lizbet’s Studies
CHAPTER 14
Lizbet stared in horror at the circle of green-eyed wolves surrounding her. Two more dashed from the woods. One of them, she felt sure, had to be Declan. The leaner one sprang to her side. “Declan?” she whispered. “Is that you?”
The wolves began to yip and howl as they crouched before her in pounce-position.
“Lizbet! Over here!” Nicole stood in a clearing, pale and as substantial as a blade of grass in the wind. Her blond hair shimmered in the moonlight.
Lizbet studied the wolves. They snarled beneath her gaze.
Nicole waved at her.
Lizbet took a tentative step and the wolves did nothing to stop her. Squaring her shoulders, she headed for Nicole. The wolves in unspoken agreement fell into a single-file line behind her.
“Declan.” Lizbet said his name in a rush. “I can’t find him.”
Nicole grabbed her hand. “I’ll bring him to you.”
The wolves’ breath fanned the back of Lizbet’s legs. She shivered more from fright than cold.
“Come on.” Nicole tugged on her hand.
“Where are we going?” Lizbet stumbled beside her.
“Somewhere safe,” Nicole said, pulling her forward.
“But Declan... He has to be here. He must be one of those animals...” A realization hit her and she froze. “You’re one, too.”
“Not anymore,” Nicole said.
Lizbet gazed up at the full moon. “Then it’s true. You don’t have to be a werewolf.”
“Some people can control it, yes.”
“And you can?”
Nicole rolled her eyes. “Well, obviously. Now, come on! My family has a cabin just through the woods. You’ll be safe there.”
Just as Lizbet had noticed before, as long as the wolves were around, all the other animals were scarce. A few owls flew overhead, but they didn’t get close enough to talk to. Lizbet had so many questions niggling in the back of her mind and the only
person there to answer them was Nicole.
And she didn’t trust Nicole—but if she had to choose between Nicole and the wolves, she’d pick Nicole. Unless one of the creatures was Declan, as she suspected. But she had no idea which one he was...or if he was even there. She thought he was. She liked to think she could sense him, but...she didn’t trust her senses, either. So, she tripped along the path, letting Nicole pull her deeper into the woods.
THE WIND WHIPPED THROUGH the trees. Branches swayed, creaking their complaints of the brewing storm. Declan sprang after Lizbet and Nicole, but the pack formed a furry, snarling wall. He wanted to fight them all, but he knew if he tried, he would die.
A large black wolf stepped out of the pack. The fur on his scruff pointed to the cloud-shrouded moon. His eyes were a terrible green.
Godwin.
You recognize me in my native form. I’m glad. Now you’ll know it’s me when I kill you.
At this pronouncement, the wolves’ collective growls grew deeper and hungrier. Declan braced for the attack he knew would come.
But not quite yet. A little torture is in order. I want you to watch the pretty girl die first.
You can’t kill Lizbet. She’s protected by the animals.
Godwin’s eyes flickered with amusement. Do you see any of her woodland friends?
Declan glanced around the forest. Other than the gathered wolves, it was still and silent. What did you do to them?
Nothing...other than terrorize them. Even the bears are wise enough to give the pack a wide berth.
Still, Lizbet is special—
So thinks every smitten puppy. It’s useful, this obsession of yours. It guarantees your death.
How so?
Well, there is a law...a pesky regulation. Pack members aren’t allowed to kill each other, unless one is a traitor to the pack.
I’m not a member of your pack.
Oh, but you are. You turned because of us. That makes you one of us...unless...
Unless what?
You renounce the pack. You see, as a pack member you must swear total allegiance to the pack. Our safety must be your first concern. It’s the only way we can survive. But you—why I believe you’ll choose the girl over your brothers. Drool fell from his lips. For this treason, I can kill you. But first, I must hear you say it.
Godwin jerked his furry head in the direction Lizbet and Nicole had disappeared. Surrounded as he was by the pack, Declan had no other choice but to follow. Not that he would have taken a different path. Because Godwin was right. He would always choose the girl. Even over himself.
He followed the wolves over a hill and around a bend to a small clearing. Clouds shifted and a shaft of moonlight landed on a small cabin. Declan watched through the window as Nicole bolted the cabin door.
“We’ll be safe in here,” Nicole told Lizbet.
Godwin chuckled. Ironic, isn’t it? Her thinking she’s safe. As long as you live, she’ll never be safe.
LIZBET SHIVERED AS a realization swept through her. She’d rather take her chances with Declan and the wolves than with Nicole. “I made a mistake in coming here,” she told Nicole as she headed for the door.
Nicole sprang forward, snarling, and phasing into a wolf. Lizbet unbolted the door and threw it open. Nicole hit the door’s edge and fell to the floor with a yelp.
A large gray wolf jumped to her side. Could he be Declan in creature form? She didn’t know, couldn’t be sure, until he leaned against her and the familiar rush of warmth Declan’s touch always evoked ran through her.
Declan pressed his furry side against her leg. Lizbet’s thoughts raced. These animals meant her harm, but why? And was it her? Or was it Declan that they wanted? Would she just be collateral damage? Or could she save herself and Declan as well?
Not seeing any animals, other than the snarling ones before her, Lizbet heard Mawmaw’s words come back to her. “All nature—plants, weather, the moon and stars.”
She summoned the wind. Come to me, she breathed. It answered with a rush of warm air. Bolstered by this small success, she raised her arms above her head. “Lightning! Thunder of the sky,
Send your magic nigh,
Wind, fan the flames,
Show the world where power reigns!”
A lightning bolt shot through the sky, thunder boomed, and clouds that appeared from nowhere poured rain. Lizbet smiled as memories flooded through her. She saw her mother, remembered their time together, and the lessons she’d learned as a child came rushing back even as the largest black wolf sprang at her.
Lizbet gathered her energy and directed a lightning bolt at the wolf’s head. He skittered sideways while his pack scattered. Lightning struck the tree with a deafening crack. Sparks lit the air like a hundred lethal fireflies.
The black wolf lunged at her, but the gray wolf at her side went for his neck. The wolves rose to their back legs, pawing each other and snarling.
Lizbet picked up a burning fallen branch and jabbed it in the face of the black wolf. He yipped as the fire singed his fur. Still, he leapt toward Lizbet. She stumbled back, holding the burning branch aloft. She landed on her back and her head hit the ground with a solid smack. Darkness overcame her.
SIRENS WAILED.
The pack’s unspoken words swirled around Declan.
Men.
Fire.
The girl. She killed the alpha. Kill the girl.
Declan stood guard, ready to fight should any of the pack decide to brave the fire surrounding Lizbet.
The sirens stopped at the edge of the woods. Voices. Men.
Declan glanced at Lizbet. She lay in a circle of flames. Godwin, the wolf, lay beside her.
The men would find her soon. She would be safe. For the moment. But as long as she was with Declan, she’d never really be safe again. Her only shot at a long, happy life was without him. Away from the forest. Surrounded by people who lived by a higher code than wolves...and paranormals. His disappearance wouldn’t only protect Lizbet, but also his mom and his dad...his friends. Everyone he loved would be safer if he wasn’t around.
He tore himself away. Somewhere in the west, the ocean called. He heard it above the wind, beyond the call of gulls. He’d follow the coast north. He would go where no one could ever find him.
Hunger tore through him. He zigzagged through the forest in search of food. A light shone through the trees. He turned off the main road, followed a dirt road down the bank and stopped in front of a moss-colored wood-frame house. A duck’s carcass hung from the porch eaves. He leaped up, ripped it from its tether, and chewed on its flesh and bones.
The door banged open and a small wizened woman emerged from the house. She wore a large flannel shirt, a baggy pair of jeans, and a bandana wrapped around her gray-streaked dark hair. She eyed him warily before placing a bowl of water in front of him. After inhaling the duck, he drank.
The young man is charged with the duty of discerning the inner beauty of the princess hiding beneath rags and shrouded in soot. His task must be to break through the mystical forest or scale the tower in the name of a true love he has never met but can only imagine.
From Lizbet’s Studies
CHAPTER 15
Her eyelids felt heavy, as if weighted, and yet unsubstantial against the unnatural white glare. She licked her lips; they were cracked, dry and tasted of blood and ash. Her head pounded. Someone touched her hand and whispered what sounded like an apology. “Lizbet?”
“Mom?” Her eyes flickered open and her mother’s face swam into focus. Immediately, she began to cry hot tears that made her cheeks sting. She remembered falling into the flames. There had been horrific pain and then nothing. Had she died in the fire? “Where’s Declan?” she asked.
“Oh, baby,” her mom said, and her voice cracked. She pressed Lizbet against her in a fierce hug, but when Lizbet winced in pain she gently let go and settled her against the pillows. Lizbet took note of Daugherty’s tired, lined face, the gray sprinkling in her hair, and her worried
blue eyes. She was alive and so was Lizbet. But what of Declan?
Lizbet slipped a hand into her mom’s and looked beyond her to the sterile white hospital walls. Outside, the distant lights of Queen Anne Boulevard sparkled in the twilight. Cars rushed up and down the parkway; street signals flashed yellow, green and red; a blinking airplane headed for the airport. Courtney and Malcolm were probably in Alaska by now. But where was Declan?
She touched her head where it was tender and felt the bump beneath her fingers. She understood the pain, but that didn’t explain everything.
Not at all.
“Is Declan...?” She couldn’t say the word.
A sob came from the other side of the bed. Elizabeth, red-eyed, sunken-cheeked, gray and worn.
Lizbet let her heavy eyelids close, trying to make sense of her new world. A world without Declan.
A BATTERY OF TESTS and visits from doctors filled the next day. During the poking, prodding, and bandage-changing Lizbet learned a few things: a lightning strike had sparked a forest fire. The remains of eight people—all charred beyond recognition—had been recovered. Declan, along with Nicole Gunner, was believed to be among the dead. Lizbet had been found beneath a tangle of the scorched trees. No one could explain how she’d survived. She’d been in the hospital, unconscious, for four days.
Lizbet closed her eyes against all this information. She tried to process the hospital truth with the myths of the Ollos Verdes, werewolves, and vampires. But while her mind told her one thing, her heart said something else entirely.
“It’s common for a patient suffering severe physical and emotional distress to have delusional episodes,” Dr. Meehan, a mental health counselor, told her. “It’s your mind trying to escape the horror of your reality.” The doctor, a petite blond in an oversized lab coat, had purple-polka-dot nail polish. She looked a lot like Courtney.
It hurt to talk through cracked lips with a dry and scratchy throat, so Lizbet didn’t try. Worrying that she’d lost her mind was making her crazy.
Dr. Meehan shifted in the chair beside the bed and settled a clipboard in her lap. “There’s a great deal of research and controversy concerning the workings of our subconscious. Some say dreams are a random firing of neurons and have no meaning. Spiritualists believe they are messages from God.”
