North Wolf

by M. A. Everaux

  Gwen paused with her spoon just about to dip into her bowl. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  His eyes slid over her for a second before returning to his plate. “No.”

  His tone rankled. Taking a deep breath, she decided the day would be best spent in the studio, preferably alone.

  When she came downstairs hours later, loud voices were coming from the kitchen. Gwen stepped carefully down the stairs, keeping off the sections that squeaked, and listened. For once, they were speaking in English.

  “You can’t stay, Eben. You’re taking over. I guarantee, boy, Theron will have convinced someone else to bring a challenge. And I’d expect more than one.”

  “She’s my responsibility, Connor. Not Christian’s.”

  “He likes her, and volunteered, Eben. Don’t act like a fool when we’re here to help you. She’ll be fine.”

  Eben retorted with something too low and guttural for Gwen to catch. She stepped down a few more steps and waited. The conversation stopped for a second, then returned in French.

  Sighing, she gave up and tromped down the rest of the steps. She didn’t bother trying to be silent and actually dragged her feet and tapped on the walls as she headed for the kitchen, just to be irritating. It was uncanny how well they could hear, and terribly inconvenient. The tiniest little squeak of a floorboard and they switched to French. Any hope to eavesdrop was completely swept away.

  Connor stood at the stove wearing a white apron around his waist. His eyes snapped to her briefly before returning to Eben, who looked perfectly calm, although his eyes glittered with emotion.

  Deciding that directness was the right approach, Gwen said, “Don’t worry about me. Go ahead about your business. If the three of you want to go hang out and do whatever,” she gave a little shrug, “that’s fine. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  She tried to keep her voice light and unconcerned. Connor looked slightly worried, but he didn’t interrupt, other than to pull open the oven and take out a pan of cookies.

  Eben said something in French to Connor. Gwen couldn’t tell what it was, but it didn’t sound polite. Connor watched absently as the younger man turned and left, before reaching for a spatula and removing the cookies from the pan.

  “What’s his problem?” Gwen asked, eyeing the cookies. The smell was absolutely divine.

  “He worries.”

  She selected one carefully and bit into the soft cookie, humming with pleasure as she licked the chocolate off her fingers. “Is that why he doesn’t like me? Because he thinks I’m his responsibility, and therefore a burden?”

  Connor stared at her in shock. “Where did you get that idea?”

  Gwen shrugged and took another bite of cookie. “It’s okay. It bothered me at first, but I’m okay with it now. Everyone doesn’t have to like me, and I get that. But I’m really not his responsibility, Connor. I can take care of myself, mostly. You guys don’t have to worry about going out together and leaving me alone. I’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t say anything as he stared at her, then went back to removing cookies, shaking his head slightly and muttering something like, “Stupid foolish boy.”

  “So, when are you guys going out?”

  He took the last of the cookies off and went to the mixing bowl full of dough, and began filling the sheet up again. “Wednesday. We’ll leave about noon and be back late.”

  It certainly wasn’t the first time she’d heard of men doing an all-night poker party, or some other similarly manly activity. “Okay. Like I said,” she smiled at him and took another cookie, “I’m a big girl. I can entertain myself for a few hours.”

  “I know.” He finished the pan and slid it into the oven. “I know.”

  Eben didn’t come to dinner that night. She almost asked, but the expression on Connor’s face said that he wasn’t in the mood for questions. She let it go, and hurried through the meal.

  Christian was equally tense. He hadn’t made any crude jokes in three days, and Gwen was starting to worry about it. They all acted like they were going off to an execution rather than a guy’s night out. It was definitely strange.

  Wednesday rolled around, and Gwen was relieved for no other reason than to get it over with. She was tired of the side glances from Connor, and the silence from Christian. It was unlike them and it made her uncomfortable, as if she were ruining their previously easy existence.

  She got up early and went to the studio. She’d started working with a pen and ink the day before, and liked the results. Charcoals were still her favorite, but the clean line of the pen was a nice change.

  At 10:00, she cleaned up and headed downstairs, ready to reinforce Connor’s faith in her.

  “I think it’s going to—” She stopped speaking and inhaled sharply. “Sorry. I thought you were Connor.”

  Eben stood in the kitchen, leaning back against the sink with his head bowed. His eyes lasered in on her, heavy and cold, and for the first time she saw true emotion behind them, although she had no idea what it was. It was too cold to be anger, but too hot to be dislike. When she moved a step back, he traced it, like an animal watching prey and getting ready to pounce.

  “I want to speak with you for a minute.”

  She stared at him, not quite sure she’d heard him right. Or heard him at all, to be exact. He hadn’t said ten words to her in two weeks. What could he possibly need to speak about now?

  Prepared to take some type of criticism, she nodded.

  He moved closer, until he was just a few inches away, which forced her to tilt her head back, just so she could look him in the eyes. She wanted to take a step back, but didn’t. He would probably just move forward again, anyway.

  “You know we’re leaving soon.”

  She nodded. “Yes. And it’s fine. I’m okay by myself.”

  His jaw clamped for a moment. She felt sure he was going to say something scathing, but he didn’t.

  “Is that all?” she urged, wanting to get away. She felt that she was growing stronger and braver every day. But, she wasn’t strong enough or brave enough to deal with Eben for any length of time. Short amounts of time, preferably under fifteen minutes, yes. Much longer than that, and she was out of luck. He was too imposing.

  “No.” He took a deep breath and held it, like he was trying to smell something. Gwen frowned at the action, thinking it strange.

  “Don’t leave the house after we’re gone, for any reason. Don’t unlock the door for anyone. There’s an emergency number by the phone. If anything happens, call it immediately. The person who answers will get us a message. Do you understand?”

  “I’m not a ch—” She snapped her mouth shut. After a minute, she just nodded.

  “We’ll leave in an hour.” He turned away from her and left the kitchen.

  Gwen watched him leave and scowled. Then stuck her tongue out at his retreating back. She wasn’t that much trouble.

  In all honesty, she was looking forward to them leaving. She was used to solitude, and in fact enjoyed it. It was one of the reasons why she liked the studio so much. It was quiet and peaceful, and even when Connor was there with her, she hardly noticed because both of them were so wrapped up in their work.

  The house was going to be all hers and she was ready for it. She had chocolate, chips and sodas. All that was required was entertainment, and that was easy since the movie collection stored in the entertainment center was large enough to rival that of the local video-rental place. There were hundreds of movies, of every category, and it wasn’t long before she had several she thought interesting.

  The three men entered the room while she was going through the last drawer, muttering about “stupid Steven Segal”. She looked up and saw them standing by the door. Christian carried a duffel bag, and all three of them were in their jackets.

  “Leaving?” she asked, getting up from the floor.

  “It’s that time,” Connor replied. “You won’t be terribly bored, will you?”

  “God, n
o. There are plenty of things to do here. Don’t worry about it, and have a good time.” She gave him a hug and smiled reassuringly.

  Christian gave her a little wave and headed out the door, followed closely by Connor. Eben stayed and stared at her, hard.

  She raised her brows and pursed her lips, wondering what else he wanted to harp about. Folding her arms over her chest, she said, “I think they’re waiting.”

  His mouth tightened. “Remember,” he ordered, stepping toward the door. “No one comes in.”

  She nodded and watched as he closed the door behind him. The lock sounded like a gunshot in the empty house.

  Hours later, the night was cold and windy. Snow fell heavily, but she hardly even noticed. Harrison Ford called to her on screen, racing away from giant spiders and rolling boulders. Before that, she’d had Mel Gibson in Braveheart, and before that, Ghost, with Patrick Swayze. All in all, Gwen thought it a very successful night.

  She was in the middle of switching DVDs when a sharp, pained cry broke the night, the sound alone enough to make her wince and run to the window. The creature cried again, this time louder and more desperate. She pushed the curtain away and searched, looking for any sign of movement.

  There was another scream of pain before she saw anything, and what she did see infuriated and flooded her with such rage she couldn’t do anything to stop it. Without a thought, she left the window and ran to the front door, unlocking and yanking it open with more anger than she’d experienced in the last ten years.

  She didn’t think to grab a jacket as she marched out into the night, walking into the cold with nothing more than her blind fury. She marched around to the side of the house, stopping when she spotted the man walking around the wounded creature. The animal was completely in shadows, hidden by the overhanging boughs of the trees, but she knew the sound of a wolf when she heard it.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled. She marched closer to them, not stopping until she had a clear view of the man’s face. She memorized it, determined to give Connor a detailed description of the poacher. “This is private property. You’re trespassing and better leave now. The cops are on their way.” She wasn’t sure where the lie came from, but it sounded good.

  He was medium height, with what seemed like a slightly paunchy build, although she couldn’t really tell because of his heavy winter clothing. He raised his face from the animal and smiled at her, his thick lips spreading into a creepy smile. “There you are, pretty girl.”

  He stepped away from the wolf and walked toward her. Gwen had a view of the creature’s back, covered in a thick, pale pelt. It didn’t move.

  “There’s someone who wants to meet you, pretty girl.”

  She jerked her attention back to the man, and for the first time felt a frisson of alarm run up her spine. She’d been fueled by anger when she’d seen the poacher, but now, with him approaching her in such a threatening manner, the word stupid ran through her mind on a banner.

  “What would a pretty little piece like you be doing in this place, huh?” He stopped a few feet from her, and Gwen smelled the heavy odor of garlic on his breath. “Especially with stupid dogs like this?”

  Cautiously, she took a step back, and then another. “Leave. The cops are going to be here any minute.” The wind whined, blowing her hair into her face.

  He sniffed at her and smiled wider, revealing crooked, yellow teeth. “Liar. I can smell it all over you. Plus,” his smile widened, “I cut the phone line. Won’t be getting no calls out of this place for a while.” Suddenly, his smile disappeared and he licked his lips in a predatory manner. “I’m going to taste you, pretty girl. After I’ve had my fill, Theron can have you. What do you say to that?”

  Gwen’s breath froze in her chest. The snow was coming heavily, hitting her skin like tiny little darts. She exhaled slowly, everything suddenly seeming to still, and a second later, turned and ran, so quickly she almost slipped in the snow.

  Her heart raced, thumping heavily in her chest as she rushed for the front door. She could see the door, so close. It was safe. All she had to do was get in and lock it.

  She heard him breathing heavily behind her a second before he grabbed her and yanked her back. She went tumbling into the snow and his heavy body landed on top of her, smashing her into the cold, frozen ground.

  She screamed and scratched at him. He slapped her hard, then again when she didn’t stop struggling.

  Gwen blacked out in a daze for a minute. Everything spun around her crazily. The sky was a sheet of blue velvet, tumbling in waves above her head. Occasionally, her attacker appeared in her vision, ripping at her clothes, squeezing her flesh painfully.

  She gasped as he jerked at her pants, and came back to herself. She was nearly nude, wearing only shreds of her clothes, lying in the frozen snow. Above her, he reached for his zipper and pulled down his pants. His cock flopped out, red, pointed and dripping with pre-cum.

  Gwen tried to leap up and get away, but he was on her in a second. Viciously, he grabbed her by the back and flipped her around, slamming her back into the ground. “You will stay still, slut!”

  Tears ran down her face in hot streams. He was working his cock, trying to get closer to climaxing. At the same time, his other hand grasped her thigh, bruising her as he wrenched her legs apart.

  With a last thought to survival, Gwen kicked her leg up, hitting him in the balls. With a short cry, his eyes rolled up and he crumpled, both hands going to his groin. With a single glance, she scrambled away, crawling on her hands and knees for the woods, no thought except to get away.

  A streak flew past her, pale yellow against the snow. It growled and snarled as it launched itself at her attacker. It was huge, six-and-a-half feet and covered in a thick pelt. It growled low in its throat, and her breath froze—she was staring at her nightmare all over again.

  Through her haze of pain, Gwen watched as the creature tore and ripped at the skin of the man. Her attacker was suddenly growling and changing before her, his bones and skin popping and reshaping, reminding her of too many horror movies. Hair sprouted all over his body as his clothes tore away, until his form was changed into that of the other, the werewolf. Her terror.

  She stayed where she was, collapsed in the snow, unable to tear away from the horrible sight before her. The pale werewolf was already bleeding, already hurt. It flinched and screamed as the darker one aimed and bit down, tearing a large piece of flesh from its side.

  Then it seemed to get a second wind, and seeing an opening, it went for its opponent’s neck, pinning the darker werewolf to the ground. With a fatal shake of its head and a tearing of flesh, the darker wolf howled in pain, a small geyser of blood splashing across the snow and gurgling in its throat.

  Gwen lay still in the snow, watching the creature’s death spasms. It died jerking and yelping, its legs twitching.

  The other werewolf collapsed with a cry, its back arching in pain. Even in the dark, its blood was visible on the pristine snow.

  She couldn’t tell how much time passed as she huddled in the snow, that old and familiar numbness strong, making it possible for her to survive. Her shirt was in shreds, and her jeans were gone. She had to warm up or she’d die in the cold.

  Stumbling, she moved closer to the house, watching both forms cautiously, on guard for any sudden movements.

  She was close to the house when the pale form turned toward her, its clawed hand/paw reaching for her.

  “Gwen,” it groaned through vocal chords not meant to speak.

  She stilled, new fear flooding her bloodstream. With disbelief and horror, she crawled toward it. It couldn’t be. “Christian?”

  Its huge head rolled and foreign, feral eyes blinked up at her, clouded with pain. Its mouth opened, revealing rows of jagged teeth as he gasped, “Call Connor, Gwen.”

  Her shivering suddenly became violent. Pressure exploded in her chest, demanding to be released.

  Her cry broke the night, full of hurt and confus
ion.

  The Christian creature inched closer to her, and she scrambled back. Its lips lifted in a growl of warning. “Don’t.”

  She cried silently with her arms wrapped around her chest. How could this be? How could she not know?

  “Gwen,” he growled again, his voice weaker.

  She sucked in her tears and looked around her. She was outside, nearly naked, and hurt. Feeling as if she was waking up from a long nap, she tried to get to her knees and immediately fell down again.

  “Go. Now.”

  She tried again, and fell again, sprawling even closer to him. For a second, she lay there, unable to move. “I don’t think I can,” she whispered.

  “Get up!”

  She scrambled away, fear giving her strength. The house was there, she could make it.

  Falling every few steps, she pushed herself to the door, agonizing and crying the entire time. When she finally touched the handle, she could hardly feel it, her fingers were so cold. She had to try three times before it opened properly and she was able to pull her body inside. She locked the door immediately.

  She lay in the hallway, panting and crying until she was warm. She had no idea how long it took, and hardly even thought about it. Her mind was empty suddenly, giving her time to heat up before dealing with other issues. The numbness was still there, protecting her from the terror, and she let it take hold, thankful.

  She stood up on shaky legs finally, slightly dazed. As if it were any other day, she glanced down at her body, seeing the bruising and blood. She studied it, and then pushed it out of her mind, too. Later. She’d deal with it all later.

  Humming slightly, she walked to her room and pulled out sweatpants and a shirt. After getting dressed, she went and sat in the living room, shivering. And she waited.

  Her mind stayed pleasantly empty as she stared at the shelves of books. So many, all different colors. She could look at them forever and not get bored going over the differences. Maybe she would do that.

  The clock struck midnight. Gwen jerked her head up and stared out the window, as all those thoughts she didn’t want poured into her head. Christian was a werewolf, like the monster she saw the night her father died. He was a monster.