Werewolves of Shade (Part Three) (Beautiful Immortals Series Book 3)

by Tim O'Rourke

  “It seemed like the right thing to do,” he said. “Staying here had to be your choice, and I’m glad you chose to stay.”

  I looked toward the fire and watched the flames jig and dance over the logs that burnt there. It was still raining outside as it pelted the windows, driven on by the wind. It reminded me of the last night I had spent with Flint, making love before the fire with the sound of the wind and the rain playing outside in the dark. But had it been lovemaking? Of that I had never been sure. I had never been sure of my true feelings for Flint. I had loved what we did to each other but shouldn’t there have been more? Shouldn’t the feelings have run deeper? I’d known Flint my whole life and Rush just a day or two. If my feelings had run deeper for Flint than just lust, would I have let Rush kiss me? Would I have kissed him back? But I had broken that kiss, hadn’t I? I’d stopped if from progressing. Yes, but not because I hadn’t enjoyed how Rush had kissed me, but because I’d felt guilty. Was that guilt misplaced?

  Your boyfriend loves you so much that he let you come all alone to a place like Shade, I heard Calix say with a smirk again.

  And was Calix right? Where was Flint? He hadn’t wanted to come with me. He hadn’t come after me either. Did being a night-watchman mean more to him than being with me? Were the people of Maze who he’d stayed to protect more important to him?

  “I should go,” Rush said, letting his fingers slide from mine. “I’ve embarrassed myself and I’ve embarrassed you. Let’s just pretend this never happened.”

  “But it has happened,” I said, that high I’d felt from being kissed by him still lingering. “Stay for a while.”

  “If I stay I might not go and it’s difficult,” he said, standing up as if readying himself to leave.

  “Difficult for you how?” I asked, getting to my feet.

  “Not for me, for you,” he said, reaching for his coat.

  I put my hand out, placing it over his to stop him from taking hold of his coat. “For me? How?”

  “You have a boyfriend,” Rush said, looking as guilty as I felt. “You told me about him, remember?”

  “Where is he now?” I muttered under my breath. Then looking at Rush, I added, “Did you tell Rea and Calix about him.”

  “Yes,” Rush nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Rea wasn’t sure about letting you stay in Shade,” Rush explained. “Calix said that you were a stranger that we knew nothing about. So I told them that you were like us, that you’d left Twisted Den because it wasn’t safe there just like we had left our home. I said that you must have been so desperate to escape that you left your boyfriend behind. I just wanted them to see that you were okay.”

  “Just okay?” I smiled back.

  His face broke out into that grin. “Much more than just okay.”

  Slowly, Rush took his hand from beneath mine, pulling his coat free from the back of the armchair and putting it on. With his shoulders stooped again, he went into the hallway. I followed. Rush opened the front door, a blast of air blowing in, ruffling his coattails.

  “How did you come to be in the wood today?” I asked. “How come you got to the girl so quickly? Both Rea and Calix told me that you were busy with stuff.”

  “Rea had sent me into the wood to check the wall for any more gaps. I was just close by when I heard the girl cry out. But by the time I reached her in the gloom she was dead, and whatever had killed her had fled.” He turned back toward the door.

  “He didn’t want to come with me,” I said.

  Rush looked back at me. “Who didn’t?”

  “Flint… my boyfriend. He wanted to stay and protect the town where we lived,” I told him.

  Slowly, Rush came forward, stopping within touching distance of me. “I would have gone with you,” he whispered, before leaning in toward me and kissing me softly on the cheek. Then turning, he stepped out into the wind and rain, closing the door behind him.

  Alone in the house again, I went back to the living room. I plucked up a candle and lit it from the flames of the dying fire. Climbing the rickety old staircase, I made my way to my room. The shutters were still open and they jittered in a draught that came from around the ancient window frame. With the candle flickering in my fist, I went to the window. I closed one shutter then stopped. My heart thudded into my throat as I glanced down at the giant wolf that sat at the end of the garden path. The creature sat on its giant haunches and looked up at me. Its eyes shone in the darkness like two smouldering coals. With its pointed ears jutting skyward, the wolf rolled back its fleshy jaws to reveal two rows of jagged teeth. They gleamed in the darkness like blades. Then with a flick of its long tail, it slowly sauntered away across the park toward the swing.

  With my heart racing, I closed the shutter. Peeling off my clothes and gripping my gun in one fist, I snuffed out the candle and climbed into bed. I yanked the blankets over my head and wished that I’d stayed long enough in Maze for my uncle to teach me how to use the gun he had given to me – but without the silver bullets I feared the gun would be useless against the creature that had appeared each night at the end of the garden path. Why had Rea and Calix taken those silver bullets? Couldn’t they see they had put me in danger? I wondered as sleep curled its black fist around me and pulled me under.

  Chapter Ten

  I was alone in the dark. The night was cold. I looked down at my feet. They were bare. Leaves lay underfoot and I knew I was outside. There was a cracking sound. It came over and over again like a tired heartbeat. I looked to my right, in the direction of the noise, and saw the swing. I was in the park. I wasn’t alone. Annabel sat on the swing, her feet scraping over the ground as she swung back and forth in the dark. Her toes were bleeding and they left ten bloody streaks behind. The girl’s hair billowed from either side of her face like black tentacles.

  “Annabel,” I said, edging toward her. “I’m so sorry…”

  “Shhh,” she hushed, placing one delicate finger to her round mouth. The blood was no more than a trickle at first as it ran from each corner of her mouth. It splattered the front of her white nightdress.

  “Annabel, you’re bleeding…”

  “Shhh…” she smiled, her lips rolling back to reveal a set of raw-looking gums. Blood leaked from them as a set of needle-like teeth appeared.

  “Anna…?” I started just as the girl sprung from the seat of the swing at me.

  I staggered backwards, my bare feet sliding in the mud and mulch. And just like the little girl, I was wearing a perfect white nightdress. It fluttered about my knees in the wind. But Annabel was no longer a little girl. With a scream trapped in the back of my throat, I watched as Annabel changed shape as she shot through the night toward me. The change happened in no more than a blink of an eye, but the moment seemed to stretch out forever. In it I saw how Annabel’s flesh fell away in strips, fluttering on the wind like fleshy ribbons. And beneath that scattered skin laid a sleek body covered in silky fur. The fur was black and it glistened in the moonlight. Tossing her head back as if in pain, I watched in horror as her hands and feet stretched into bony claws, each of them forming into a razor-sharp point. Just inches from me and still in mid-flight, Annabel lowered her head. It was then I realised what she had truly become. Her face still vaguely resembled the girl, but like the rest of her body, it was covered in fine black fur. Her eyes blazed red, the tips of her ears now sharpened into points. She opened her bloodless lips to reveal a row of jagged teeth. Snarling, the werewolf landed on the ground before me. She stood upright just like me. But the girl was taller now – stretched. A tail whipped back and forth through the air behind her. Her slender but vicious-looking claws hung low by her knees.

  Trembling all over, I lurched backwards. The creature, although fearsome, had a certain mesmerizing beauty about it. Was this one of the beautiful immortals?

  “Annabel…?” I whispered, hands to my face.

  Lowering her head and fixing me with her brilliant red stare, she snarled. “Run!”

&n
bsp; Whirling around, nightdress billowing out behind me like a sail, I raced away. My legs felt so heavy, I glanced down to make sure that I wasn’t dragging dead weights behind me. With eyes brimming with fear, I glanced back to see the werewolf running across the park toward me. The creature had dropped forward and used its front claws to propel it forward at a terrifying speed.

  Snapping my head front, I raced forward, each stride feeling as if I were sinking deeper into a quagmire that I couldn’t see in the darkness. I reached the edge of the park only to find myself at the path that led toward the church and the graveyard. With the sound of Annabel snapping at my heels, I pushed on into the dark. The trees that lined the road whipped to and fro, shedding their dead black leaves like rain all about me. The wind howled, but it did nothing to drown out the sound of the snarling creature that hunted me through the night. I reached the gate in the wall that surrounded the graveyard. Pushing it open, the gate screamed so loud on its rusty hinges that at first I wondered if there wasn’t some other kind of unworldly creature lurking in the darkness – or if the dead had come back to life.

  The cracked path snaked away from me, winding its way amongst the tilted gravestones. Daring to take a glance over my shoulder, I could see Annabel – the werewolf – bounding towards me. Her eyes shone like the brake lights on my uncle’s truck. Why hadn’t the creature caught me yet? Was it teasing me – running me into the ground so when it made its kill, I was too weak to resist? Or was it enjoying the hunt so much that it wanted it to last until I was so tired and ravished with fear that I could do little more than crawl away on my hands and bloodied knees?

  I made my way along the path, dashing past the gravestones that jutted from the ground all around me. Halfway across it, I heard another sound that I recognised.

  Scrape! Scrape! Scrape!

  Peering into the darkness I saw the ghostly silhouette of Augustus Morten in the distance. With back arched over his spade, he stood digging out another grave. I wanted to scream and tell him that there was a werewolf in the graveyard. But more than that, I wanted to scream for his help.

  “Morten!” I panted, drawing in deep lungfuls of cold night air. The sound of my voice was little more than a whimper over the sound of the nagging wind, the bristling branches of nearby trees and the snarling of the werewolf at my heels.

  Sucking a blast of air, I screamed, “Morten, help me!”

  Standing straight, Morten placed the spade over one of his narrow shoulders. He turned to face me. From beneath the rim of his bowler hat, he stared at me with eyes that burnt as fiercely as the creature’s which stalked me through the graveyard. Raising one long hand that looked like something close to a claw, he beckoned me toward him with one hooked finger.

  “I have a place for you to get some rest,” he said, lips twisting up into a grin. “Come and lay down.” He gestured toward the open grave, his voice floating on the wind like a song.

  I looked front again. I wasn’t going to lie down and give up just yet. No way! The trees where Annabel had been snatched swayed in the distance. I couldn’t go back so I darted forward, mud and earth spraying up with each heavy footfall I made. My hair whipped about my face and shoulders. I clawed it out of my eyes. Reaching the treeline, and bent forward, I collapsed against the nearest gravestone. I drew in breath as I glanced back. The werewolf’s red eyes seesawed through the darkness as it came toward me. The scrape, scrape, sound came again, as Morten returned to his grave digging.

  With the werewolf now within touching distance, I stood straight, stumbling back into the slithers of darkness between the knotted tree trunks. I felt two hands fall onto my shoulders. They dragged me backwards into the darkness. With a scream tearing its way up my throat, I was spun around.

  “It’s okay, you’re safe now,” the voice said, those strong hands pulling me forwards.

  “Flint?” I whispered. Had he come to save me like he had before?

  “Rush,” he said, his face coming forward out of the darkness.

  “There’s a werewolf,” I panted, trying to warn him of the danger we were both in.

  “You’re safe with me,” he smiled, placing one hand on my hip and the other cupping the side of my face. I felt his hand slide down over the swell of my butt. I didn’t move or flinch – my fears falling away as easily as Annabel’s flesh had as she’d changed into the wolf.

  Rush tilted my head back, his head leaning in toward mine as he placed his firm lips against my neck. My skin tingled as any thoughts of the werewolf that had been chasing me melted away. He pulled me close against him, his chest hard against mine. As Rush kissed me, he slowly worked his hands down over my thighs, hitching up the nightdress I was wearing. With my head thrown back and neck exposed, Rush brushed his lips up toward mine where they lingered. I kissed him back as he drew his hands up toward my shoulders, burying his fingers into the soft fabric of my nightdress. The sound of tearing filled the air as Rush clawed my nightdress free from me. Now naked in his arms, I reached for him, our lips joined, tongues snaking and darting back and forth…

  …I was suddenly on my back and the ground was soft against my naked skin. There were no leaves or twigs where there should have been on the floor of the wood where Rush was kissing me and I was kissing him… something felt wrong. Rush’s touch didn’t feel right. I opened my eyes and snapped them shut at once. I must be dreaming – locked in some kind of hideous nightmare. I was in my room, on the bed, and it wasn’t Rush I was kissing, but Calix.

  Chapter Eleven

  “What the fu…” I gasped, pushing Calix from off me. I yanked the blankets over my naked breasts, cowering against the pillows. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  “What am I doing?” Calix said, mock surprise in his voice. He got up and stood beside the bed. With that arrogant smirk on his face, he stood and looked down at me. He wore the same long, dark coat and faded blue jeans I’d seen him in before. The coat was open and I could see the spidery-scrawl-like writing over the muscles that lined his chest and stomach.

  I wiped my moist lips with the back of my hand. “You had your freaking tongue in my mouth!”

  “Correction,” he said. “You had your tongue in my mouth.”

  “I was asleep!” I shouted at him, the last remnants of the nightmare fragmenting at the furthest corners of my mind. “You took advantage of me!”

  “I took advantage of you?!” he scoffed. “I came in here to wake you up and you grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. Pulled me down on top of you and started kissing me.”

  “Bullshit!” I scowled at him, just wanting him to get out of my bedroom and out of the house. I drew my knees up beneath the blankets, wrapping my arms about me. “I didn’t know it was you. I was dreaming… I was dreaming about someone else…”

  “Oh yeah? Who?” he grinned cocking an eyebrow at me. “The boyfriend?”

  “Well it wasn’t you!” I snapped at him. I wiped my mouth again. “You sicken me.”

  “It didn’t seem that way just a few moments ago,” he said. “You couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

  Glaring at him over the edge of the blankets, I said, “if you ever lay one of your grubby little hands on me again, I’ll go straight to Rea and tell her that you spied on me when I was in the shower and that you sneaked in here and kissed me while I was asleep… I’ll tell her what a disgusting pervert you really are.”

  “Please stop – you’re starting to scare me,” he mocked.

  “You should be scared when she finds out that you’ve been trying to cheat on her with me,” I threatened him. “I heard what you and Rea were up to yesterday when I left the pub.”

  “And what was that?” Calix asked as if undeterred by my threats.

  “I heard you two having sex,” I said.

  “Is that what you think?” Calix laughed. “You think me and Rea are lovers?”

  “I heard you!”

  “Not me, darling,” Calix said, that cocky look on his face. “You got the wro
ng guy.”

  “You’re lying,” I hissed.

  “Think whatever you like,” he said. “I really couldn’t give a shit if you think I’m shagging the corpse of the old girl that used to live here.”

  “You disgust me,” I said, cringing away from him.

  “Yeah so you keep saying, but it didn’t stop you from shoving your tongue down my throat,” he smirked, heading for the bedroom door.

  “I was asleep!” I screamed in frustration.

  “You keep telling yourself that, darling, if it makes you feel better. But why you have to keep playing so hard to get beats the shit out of me,” he said before disappearing beyond the bedroom door and out onto the landing.

  “Arrrggh!” I roared, knotting my fists and driving them down onto the bed.

  Poking his head around the edge of the door, Calix said, “Now get your scrawny arse out of bed as we have work to do.” Then he was gone again.

  “I don’t have a scrawny arse!” I yelled, gathering the blankets about me as I tried to get off the bed. I lost my footing and fell flat on the floor.

  “Yeah, you do,” Calix said, striding along the landing toward the top of the staircase. “I usually prefer a bit more meat on my women, but you’ll do.”

  “I’m not your woman,” I yelled, using the door to pull myself up, the bedding knotted all about me.

  “Not yet,” I heard Calix mutter as he headed down the stairs.

  “Why, you conceited pig!” I fumed. “If Flint was here he’d whip your arrogant arse!”

  “Well he ain’t here, it’s just me and you, so stop your bitching and get your shit together pronto,” he said, glancing up at me one last time through the gap in the banisters before heading into the gloom at the foot of the stairs.

  Losing sight of him, I marched down the landing, blankets wrapped about me like a giant shawl. “Jerk!” I roared, slamming the bathroom door closed and locking it behind me.

  After taking a cold shower, fixing my hair into a ponytail, and throwing on a clean sweater and jeans, I headed downstairs. I had the gun tucked safely down the back of my jeans. Reaching the bottom stair, the smell of bacon hit me. My mouth began to water at once and my stomach cried out. When had I last eaten? I couldn’t remember. It had probably been the toast that Calix had made in the pub the previous day. I made my way along the hallway and pushed open the kitchen door. Calix was sitting at the table, feet swung up and crossed at the ankles.