by Megan Morgan
Lorena and Holden picked up Dr. Winston at the airport in Lexington, along with his two assistants, a young red-haired woman named Alicia and a black man named Darrell. Dr. Winston himself was a middle-aged man, tall, thin, with glasses, his dark hair silver at the temples. He had a warm voice and a pleasant, engaging demeanor. He was keenly interested in what had been going on in Blue Ditch and they talked Wolvites all the way back to the farm.
Once there, they immediately pulled their specimens out of the cooler in the basement. Their visitors had barely relinquished their luggage before gloves and masks were pulled on.
“This is the first one we…captured.” Holden indicated the one he’d been dissecting, the one Deacon had brought over. “So far, none of the tests I’ve done have indicated the virus.”
“And these are from last night?” Dr. Winston walked over to the other two, who were still fully intact.
“Yes.”
All three Wolvites were roughly the same size and color, about seven feet when upright, with shaggy dark hair and elongated muzzles. Some Wolvites, notably in northern areas like Canada, had shorter snouts akin to bears and thicker, fuzzier coats.
The Wolvites were laid out on metal autopsy tables, side by side—like the table on which they’d dissected the Wolvite that attacked her mother. She pushed the thought away.
Dr. Winston circled the tables, peering and poking at the bodies. His assistants followed him.
“It’s very strange,” Holden said, “that they would move into a populated area and stage an ambush. We’re still trying to figure out if that’s what really happened. It’s unprecedented.”
“Not completely.” Dr. Winston bent over and examined a snout. “It’s happened before.”
“Has it?” Lorena perked.
Dr. Winston peeled the creature’s lips back to reveal the teeth. “It’s rare, but I’ve read a few accounts where Wolvites ganged up on people. Intelligent ambushes, even entering human domains.”
“Why would they do that?” Holden asked. “Especially in this day and age, when we have advanced weaponry? Surely they see humans as a threat.”
“Surely they do.” Dr. Winston moved to examine the creature’s hand, the fingers curled in a fist. “In most accounts like these, a witch was involved.”
Lorena blinked. “A witch?”
“One that stands out in my mind is an account from the journal of man who was traveling across the country in the late eighteen hundreds. He stopped in a village for a few days. The people in the village were afraid of a local woman who lived in the woods. They said she possessed evil powers, but it’s clear from the descriptions she was a witch.”
Holden chuckled. “Yes, those evil witches. Right, Lorena?”
She rolled her eyes.
Dr. Winston pried the Wolvite’s fingers open. “They said she encouraged the Wolvites to attack villagers she didn’t like.”
“Maybe the villagers were harassing her,” Lorena said. She quickly added, “Not that it justifies setting Wolvites on people.”
“She told the Wolvites to attack people?” Holden furrowed his brow. “How could she do that? Wolvites are wild, senseless animals.”
“Deacon said something about that.” Lorena looked at Dr. Winston. “Deacon Kelley, one of the locals. He said there’s a rumor that witches who can talk to animals can also talk to Wolvites.”
Dr. Winston glanced up at her. “Of course, the encouragement of a witch isn’t the only reason a Wolvite might come out of hiding and put themselves in danger. Sometimes they’re starving or sick.”
“I don’t get it,” Holden said. “Even if a witch used her abilities, how in the world would she direct Wolvites to attack people? Again, they’re senseless animals.”
“Maybe they aren’t.” Lorena folded her arms. “Maybe there’s something a witch can reach inside them, something intelligent.”
Holden scoffed. “What do you think, Dr. Winston?”
Dr. Winston tugged harder at the Wolvite’s dead, stiff fingers. “It has been my observation that Wolvites do not have any more advanced intelligence or reasoning capabilities than most animals. The idea that a witch can manipulate Wolvites is more likely some legend that sprung up, as they tend to do around these parts. Science wins out.”
Hazel would probably have something to say about that.
“That doesn’t explain last night, though.” Lorena shook her head. “I was there. They ganged up, approached a human domicile, and tried to attack a person in their home.”
“As I said.” Dr. Winston got the thing’s hand open. “Hunger and disease can drive them to take such risks.”
“You think it’s the rabies virus?” Holden asked.
Dr. Winston reached over to the table where the dissection tools were laid out, and plucked up a pair of tweezers. “Perhaps. So far, findings suggest the virus is isolated to the area in South Carolina where we originally discovered it, but perhaps we have a second outbreak here.”
Lorena refrained from saying anything about Deacon getting bit and not showing signs of infection. If there wasn’t a virus, he didn’t deserve to be implicated in something that could potentially disrupt his life.
Dr. Winston was doing something to the Wolvite’s hand. His assistants peered over his shoulders.
“I’ll get the blood samples we have.” Holden walked across the room to the cooler where they kept them.
“Wolvite populations have decreased dramatically in the last twenty or so years.” Dr. Winston bent close to the Wolvite. “Humans have destroyed their habitats and hunted them down to much smaller numbers.”
The extinction of any species, even a supernatural one, was not something to celebrate. Melanie’s anger over their mistreatment stuck in Lorena’s thoughts.
Dr. Winston stood up, something small and black pinched in the tweezers.
Lorena frowned. “What’s that?”
He held it up to the light above the table. His assistants gazed at it above their masks. The object appeared to be a black stone with flecks of blue in it, about two inches across.
“A rock?” Alicia asked.
Dr. Winston took it between his fingers and rolled it around. “I believe so. Please bring me a specimen dish, Holden.”
Holden rushed over with one. Dr. Winston dropped the rock in it.
“Possibly something it grabbed off the ground in its death throes.” Dr. Winston placed the tweezers aside. “However, the tension of the hand seems it was clenching it deliberately. I’m going to inspect the corpse for more foreign bodies, then we’ll get to the blood work and a little dissection. With any kind of luck, I’ll have answers before the extermination contingent arrives.”
Holden carried the dish across the room.
“This is getting weirder and weirder,” Lorena muttered.
* * * *
Deacon stood in the same spot he’d stood in at eight years old, at the corner of Main and Harlan, in front of Besco’s Hardware. The store had a coat of green paint now, and they’d planted a tree out front on the tree lawn, but nothing else had changed. The same old wooden bench still sat there and the sidewalk was cracked diagonally in front of the door.
Like that hot oppressive day nearly two decades ago, people lined the street, watching the procession of pick-up trucks and Jeeps as they pulled into the lot across the street. Soldiers with guns and body armor hopped out of the vehicles. The clamor and commotion was the same, but the soldiers were a little more advanced in their weapons and protection this time.
“Here we are again.” Jack stood beside Deacon. “Just like before. Things had to get too far gone before they could bring themselves around to help out.”
On the wooden bench, John Besco’s stooped gray mother sat, along with his two daughters. Deacon’s mother sat on that bench back then, sagging and dead-eyed, his aunt’s arm around her shoulders. Her daughter had been missing for forty-eight hours. Two days was too long for hope to remain. Two days was plenty time for her to be t
orn to pieces.
“Reckon it isn’t so late this time,” Deacon said. “Ain’t no one dead yet.”
Jack huffed. “It’s amazing they could be bothered to show their faces before half the town got eaten.”
“We can thank Lorena for that.”
Jack squinted at him.
Deacon shrugged. “If she wasn’t there last night, I woulda got my ass eaten. And she got her agency riled up enough to get these people here, finally.”
Zeke stood on the other side of Jack. “Wonder if we can help these folks any?”
Jack laughed. “They don’t want our help. They come in late, clean up what we started, and take all the credit. That’s how they work.”
People drifted across the street to meet the soldiers. They were men and women, guns on their hips and shoulders, ready for battle. They gathered in little groups and talked to the townspeople.
“Listen up!” a man in body armor shouted and stepped away from the others. “You need to spread the word, everyone in this town is to be indoors by sundown, under threat of criminal action.”
Jack grunted. “Been telling us to stay inside for days. I’m tired of being told how to handle myself.”
“This is for your own protection!” The man raised his arms. “Anyone caught outside without good reason will be detained and fined. Let us do our work and take care of the threat. We’ll let you know when it’s safe.”
“Everyone lays their trust in them.” Jack spat on the sidewalk. “No one has faith in us anymore. We protected this town as long as it’s been here, but no one thinks we can do it now.”
“To be fair,” Zeke said, “this threat’s a little big for the likes of us.”
“Our Daddies handled it back in the day.” Jack turned on him. “They held the bastards back and kept everyone safe.”
“They weren’t trying to get in our houses back then,” Deacon said. “We might be dealing with a whole new level of bullshit.”
Jack seethed. “We ought to tell everyone about the rabies. Show them we still have their safety in mind, more than these assholes. They wanna keep secrets from them, but we want to keep people safe. They need to know that. We can win their respect back.”
“I don’t think we should.” Deacon frowned. “Lorena’s right. There’s no need to stir up panic if there’s nothing to panic about.”
Jack gaped at him. “If there’s even a chance they might be—”
“I got bit.” Deacon lifted his arm. “That thing weren’t rabid, or I’d be rabid. They’re gonna have most of those hairy bastards blasted out of here by tomorrow morning, let them do it.”
“Jesus.” Jack flung up his hands. “You get a piece of tail and you lose all sense.”
“Watch your mouth. You ain’t got no room to talk, with that skittish filly you took as a wife.”
Jack charged at him. Deacon prepared himself. However, Zeke jumped in the middle.
“Ain’t no time for this!” Zeke blocked Jack from getting closer. “We got bigger things going on right now than your women issues.”
Jack eased back, but he and Deacon continued to glare at each other. They’d given each other enough whoopings over the years it was a shock they were still on speaking terms. Jack had a mean right hook. Deacon was bad at ducking it.
“We ought to go back to Jack’s house.” Zeke remained in place to keep them from attacking each other. “Get all our weapons and tuck in for the night. You know how it was last time they drove them out.”
Plowing into Wolvite territory meant some of them came running out, to try to escape. Last time, all those years ago, Deacon crept out of bed and peeked out the kitchen window, to watch his father and uncles on the back deck. They picked them off as they ran out of the trees. The gun pops went off like fireworks. He wasn’t scared, but he was sad for his mother, upstairs in her bed. Was she afraid? Was she glad?
“Good idea,” Deacon said. “We’ll be helping them out anyway, Jack. You know they’re gonna drive the critters out. We’re gonna have to get the ones they don’t.”
A voice called out. “Hey, you three!”
The man who had made the announcement stalked across the street toward them. Deacon sized him up.
“You Lycans?” the man asked. Someone must have pointed them out.
“We are.” Jack glared at him. “We been taking care of things while you took your time getting here.”
“Jack, don’t,” Deacon muttered.
The man stopped in front of them and looked them over. “We don’t want citizens involved in this, for your own safety.”
“Someone had to hold them back until you showed up,” Jack said.
“We’re here now.” The man stared him down. “Any interference will result in detainment and a fine. Leave this to us.”
“We know where they live,” Deacon said. “We could show you.”
“That won’t be necessary. We have trackers. Stay in your homes tonight and let us do our jobs.”
Deacon stepped forward. “We’re gonna protect our homes, if they come out of the woods. But we won’t get in your way.”
“Are you Lycans registered?”
“Yes.” Deacon tried to keep his hackles down. He wouldn’t be no help inside a jail cell. “We’ve given our blood.”
“All the men in our family are Lycan,” Jack said. “That’s why we keep these townspeople safe. That’s why it falls on us when you bunch ain’t around. Course, we don’t have our balls wrapped in government tape.”
The man bristled. Deacon clamped a hand on Jack’s shoulder.
“We’re headed home,” Deacon said. “Good luck out there.” Jack’s shoulder tensed and Deacon tightened his grip. “Come on, we gotta make sure our families are safe tonight.”
They drove back to Jack’s house. Jack stayed silent and tight-jawed most of the ride. Deacon checked his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed a call from Lorena.
“Hope that bastard gets a bite,” Jack finally said. “That’ll take him down a peg.”
“You ought not to wish that on anyone,” Zeke said sharply. “Anyone who ain’t Lycan, anyhow.”
They fell back into silence as the truck bumped over the uneven road. Deacon looked at his empty phone screen again and tried not to get nervous about what the night might bring—both in Wolvites, and swift departures.
Chapter 10
Lorena pulled into Jack’s driveway as the sun dipped low in the sky. She’d passed trucks and Jeeps on her way there, and had to squeeze past them on the narrow dirt roads.
Deacon stood on the porch.
“The extermination squad is here.” She walked toward him. “They’re heading out to the woods.”
“I know, I seen them.” He stood at the top of the steps and she stopped at the bottom. “We was downtown to say hello when they showed up.”
She gazed up at him, towering over her. She had two things to talk to him about. She drew her hand out of her jacket pocket. “Do you know what this is?” She opened her hand to reveal the black stone.
He squinted, frowning. “Come on inside.”
She joined him on the porch. He opened the door for her, his other hand brushing her lower back.
He led her through the house to the kitchen. Hazel sat at the head of the table. She had a book open in front of her and was writing in it. She looked up.
“Show it to her,” Deacon said.
Lorena walked over, the stone held up between her fingers. “Do you know what this is?”
Hazel looked from Lorena’s face to the stone, and back again. Her eyes gleamed behind her glasses.
“I’m disappointed you don’t know what that is.” Hazel clucked her tongue. “Such a shame.”
“My grandmother had stones, but she didn’t teach me much about them. Google tells me it’s a black opal.”
Hazel returned her attention to the book. “If you would learn the ways of your kind, you wouldn’t need a computer to tell you such things.”
“Where’
d you get it?” Deacon asked.
“From Dr. Winston.” She tucked it back in her pocket. “He got it from the hand of a dead Wolvite. One of the ones you shot last night.”
Deacon’s gaze turned puzzled.
“What’s the purpose of it?” Lorena asked Hazel. “What does a black opal do?”
Hazel set her pen down and leaned back in her chair. “It’s the Witch’s Stone. It enhances the power of a witch.”
“Enhances it?”
“Yes, it magnifies her abilities. It’s basic witch knowledge. Even the youngest of witches knows this.”
Lorena had never read about it, but then, the agency’s books covered the basics, not the lore. She fought to school her irritation. “All right, so what was it doing in the hand of a Wolvite? Opals aren’t indigenous to this area. I doubt it just picked it up.”
Deacon sucked in a breath. “Maybe it attacked a witch.”
Lorena hadn’t considered that. Her stomach lurched.
“No one has gone missing or been attacked by them.” Hazel waved a hand. “Apart from my foolish grandson here. I know all the witches in this area and they’re all safe and sound.”
“So then the question remains,” Lorena said, “how did it get in the hand of a Wolvite?”
“My guess is, a witch put it there.”
Lorena frowned. Deacon tilted his head, like a dog.
“You mean after I shot it, Grammy?” he asked.
“No, before you shot it.” Hazel adjusted her glasses. “A witch, apparently, has been talking to the Wolvites.”
Lorena narrowed her eyes. “Deacon told me about that. I’d never heard of such a thing, but Dr. Winston said he’s read accounts.”
“There’s a great deal you can’t learn from your science books. You’re a witch, you don’t believe in things that science doesn’t teach you?”
Lorena looked between them. “So witches can talk to Wolvites? It’s possible?”
“Of course it’s possible. With the right witch.”
“So what does the rock do?” Deacon asked.
“I already told you, it enhances a witch’s power.”
