The Wolf's Bait (The Wolf's Peak Saga Book 2)

by Patricia Blackmoor

  “Hazel, how is your wedding planning going?” Annabelle asked.

  Hazel sighed happily, her eyes dreamy. “Oh, it’s wonderful,” she said.

  “Do you have your dress?”

  “It’s being designed now,” she said. Her grin was infectious, her eyes holding a delighted sparkle. “Oh, it’s so pretty! Simple, I mean, not as embellished as yours was, Christine. The dress is going to be a simple silhouette, soft and flowy, made of Chantilly lace. I’m wearing my mother’s pearls as my something borrowed. It was her idea, of course. I think she’s more excited for this wedding than I am.” Hazel rolled her eyes, but she still had that impish grin that implied she didn’t mind so much.

  “What else do you have chosen?” I asked, trying to participate.

  “Well, my mother insisted we get married at St. Peter’s church.”

  “Oh, that’s beautiful!” Annabelle exclaimed. “I loved the stained glass in there. It’s exquisite.”

  “We just haven’t found anywhere to host the reception,” said Hazel. “My family’s home isn’t nearly large enough.”

  I sat up a little straighter. “You could do it here.”

  Hazel’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

  I looked between both the girls. “Well, sure. I mean, I would have to run it by Jasper, but I can’t think of a reason he’d say no. Lord knows, we have enough events here already, I doubt one more would be a problem.”

  Hazel jumped up from her chair, wrapping her arms around my shoulders in a hug. “Oh, Christine! That would be fantastic!”

  “Oh, of course. But, um, don’t thank me yet. Thank me after I ask Jasper.”

  “Sure, sure,” she said, situating herself between Annabelle and me. “Now, as an accent to the white, I want to do a pale green, something soft. I’ll still do the orange blossoms, of course; it’s traditional, and my mother will insist. But I’m thinking in addition to the orange, doing greens in the bouquets and decorations.”

  “That would be so pretty!” I said, in an attempt to keep myself awake. Hazel was rambling, and if I didn’t say something, I was likely to doze off where I sat.

  Hazel didn’t seem to notice. She continued to gush about her plans, and I felt my eyelids growing heavy. I needed to get up and do something to keep myself awake. I needed to find Bridget and get some tea, but I simply didn’t have the energy. I was ready to succumb to my fatigue when I felt the familiar thump.

  “Oh!” I exclaimed, my hand flying to my ribs.

  “You all right?” Annabelle asked.

  “He’s playing football with my ribs again,” I sighed.

  “Aw, he’s kicking?”

  “You say that like it’s a good thing,” I said. “He’s strong. It’s a little painful.”

  “Savor it,” she said, nudging me. “That’s your little guy in there.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “Are you and Stephen planning on having another little one?” Hazel asked.

  Annabelle smiled. “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps? That’s a vague answer,” I said.

  “We’ve definitely talked about it.”

  “And?”

  “We’re definitely going to have another one. Daniel is so active, he needs a sibling!”

  “That’s so exciting!” Hazel exclaimed.

  “Well, we don’t know when, yet, exactly,” Annabelle said. “Nothing is set in stone. But we have decided that sometime in the next year or two we want to have another.”

  “Do you know what gender you want?” I asked.

  “I’m hoping for a girl,” she admitted. “But of course, I’ll be happy either way.”

  “I hadn’t even thought about what I wanted before Jasper told me it was a boy,” I said.

  Hazel looked surprised. “You already know?”

  “Something about my scent being different,” I said, waving my hand. “It seems crazy to me, but Jasper insists.”

  “It’s legitimate,” Annabelle said. “They were able to tell that Daniel was a boy as well. Took some of the surprise out of it, to be honest, but Stephen wasn’t able to keep it a secret.”

  “It’s annoying, isn’t it?” I asked. “Jasper knew I was pregnant before I was.”

  “Get used to it,” Annabelle sighed.

  “Isn’t it maddening?”

  “Extremely.”

  “I can’t wait until Adam and I have a baby,” Hazel sighed.

  “After you’re married, though,” Annabelle said. “You don’t want to have to get your dress refitted.”

  “Yes, that’s the main reason,” I said dryly.

  Hazel’s face flushed a deep red, but Annabelle only laughed. “Not all of us kept ourselves pure until marriage, you know,” Annabelle said.

  “Oh God, I didn’t need to know that,” I said.

  “Have you finished the nursery yet?” Hazel asked, mercifully changing the subject.

  “Yes!” I said, thankful and excited. “It was one of my Christmas gifts.”

  “Let’s show her!” Annabelle said, hopping off the couch.

  “Sure!” I said. I loved spending time in the nursery, and wanted to show everyone. Both girls extended their arms out to me, and with one strong pull lifted me off the couch. I paused a moment to breathe after the exertion before I was ready to continue.

  Before we went upstairs, I stopped and took one of the lamps. I knew well how dark it became upstairs at night; that darkness had played a key role in my nightmares, behind Seth and fallen teeth and dead bodies.

  Anne and Bernadette watched us with mild interest as we left the room, but before we were at the stairs they were back to their card game and local gossip. We rolled our eyes as we climbed the stairs, and I only needed to pause twice before we continued on.

  I led them down the hall and opened the door to the nursery. I hadn’t been in here at night yet. The moonlight filtered through the chiffon curtains gave the room an ethereal quality. The moon cast a long beam of light onto the rug and cast shadows across the room, making everything seem distorted. I took the lamp to the dresser. A mirror hung behind it, and when I set the lamp on top of the dresser, the light was reflected back and illuminated the room so Hazel and Annabelle could see it in all of its glory.

  “Oh, Christine, it’s beautiful,” Hazel gasped. She wandered around the room, examining all the details, running her fingers along the animals printed on the wallpaper and caressing the soft embroidered blankets draped over the rails of the crib. She even paused to look out the window.

  “What a beautiful view!” she said. “You can see the whole courtyard!”

  “Isn’t it pretty?” I asked.

  “Oh, it’s gorgeous. Is this the room beside yours? That’s so smart, you’ll be able to hear him right away when he cries.”

  “That was the idea,” I said with a smile.

  As Hazel examined the room, I turned to Annabelle. “Really, thank you so much,” I said. “This room is perfect. It’s everything I ever wanted.”

  “I know,” Annabelle said. “I stole your drawings.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes.

  Hazel had stopped in the middle of the room, her eyes scanning her surroundings. “Wait a moment, is this the room I stayed in when I was here?”

  “It is,” said Annabelle.

  “My goodness! It was so different before. It was so ugly! No offense meant, Christine.”

  “I’m not offended,” I told her. “It was awful, wasn’t it?”

  “Everything was olive–colored.” Hazel wrinkled her nose while she recalled the color. “I had dreams about vegetables.”

  “My sister hated this room,” Annabelle said, and we fell quiet. Annabelle’s sister had been Jasper’s first wife. She had died in childbirth less than a year after she and Jasper had been married. Annabelle didn’t talk about her much, but Cecilia’s memory still lingered. Perhaps some women might mind, but I didn’t. From all accounts, Cecilia was lovely, and she had meant a lot to two of the people I was
closest to.

  “She would be happy with what we’ve done with it, I think,” Annabelle finished.

  “I certainly am,” I told her, pulling her in for a hug.

  The three of us went downstairs, but I declined to sit. I wanted to get something to drink to increase my energy, if even just enough to last through the party. Leaving the others in the parlor, I slipped into the kitchen. It was empty, and that was strange. It was no surprise that the cook and Daisy weren’t there; they would have retired to bed a while ago, but Bridget was gone as well. Last I had seen her she had been in the kitchen, and she always waited up until I went to bed. As I had no idea where anything was in the kitchen, since the cook always shooed me out, I had to ring for her. It took several minutes and several rings before I heard footsteps on the back staircase. Bridget popped into the kitchen.

  “Are you all right?” I asked her. Her face and nose were bright red, and she was breathing heavily.

  “Perfectly,” she said brightly. “What can I do for you?”

  “Would you make me some tea?” I asked.

  “Gladly,” she said before she began bustling about the kitchen. I opted to sit at the kitchen table as she put the water on.

  “I talked to Conor,” I said, keeping my voice neutral.

  “Mm?”

  “He said you told him what you used to do before you came here.”

  Bridget paused and glanced at me. “If you want me to be ashamed, I’m not. I did what I had to do to survive.”

  If anything, I was the one who was ashamed. I looked down at my hands. “No, I understand that. I had nearly considered it myself. I was surprised that you told him, that’s all.”

  “Oh. He’s very easy to talk to.”

  “I’ve noticed,” I paused, not wanting to meddle, but I was about to anyway. “You like him, don’t you?”

  “You don’t approve.”

  “It’s not that,” I said. In fact, it was, but for far different reasons than she could have possibly imagined. How could I explain that it was not her station, but his species that worried me? “You haven’t known him long. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Christine, you married Jasper after knowing him for a week.”

  “Well, that’s not strictly true,” I stuttered. “I mean, we knew each other as children.”

  She gave me a look that told me it was a poor rebuttal. I grew quiet.

  “I didn’t know Jasper very long, you’re right. And our marriage has not been easy.”

  “If marriage were easy, they wouldn’t make it legally binding,” Bridget said, pouring the tea from the pot into a cup.

  I chuckled. “You’re right about that, I suppose. I’m sorry.”

  She paused before sitting down across from me. “Christine, I appreciate your concern. I’ve been in love before, and it did not end well. I’ve known heartbreak. I also know how to guard myself.”

  I gazed at her. “You are so much stronger than I could ever be,” I admitted.

  She shook her head. “You would be just as strong if you had been through what I’ve been through,” she said softly.

  I didn’t have a response to that.

  “Do you mind if I go back upstairs now?” she asked.

  “Oh, go ahead.”

  I rose to join the others in the parlor when I heard a crash at the back of the house. Startled, I left my tea behind as I flew out into the hallway to find out what was going on. Someone, or something, was pounding violently on the back door. I ran to the nearby window and peered out to see the wolves there, shoving the doors. I dashed back and unlocked the door, trying to push the heavy wood so they could get in.

  As soon as the doors were open wide enough, the wolves pushed through. In a blur of fur, I saw a few of them weren’t wolves anymore. They rushed to the great hall, and I followed, met there by the other girls.

  “Adam!” Hazel cried out in anguish.

  Adam was on the back of one of the wolves. Jasper, also in human form, was holding him steady. I was too far to see why at first, but as I grew closer, coming alongside Hazel, my stomach dropped.

  Adam was unconscious and covered in blood. Across his stomach, a large gash was ripped open, claw marks digging all the way up to his neck. He had been attacked.

  Chapter Twelve

  The room devolved into chaos. Hazel screamed beside me as I stood in shock, watching the scene around me. Jasper was holding Adam onto the wolf, Stephen, I think it was. He climbed off and wrapped the nearest article of clothing, a coat, around his waist. Then he stepped across the room over to us, and ushered us out the door so the men could change and get dressed. Though we were waiting only seconds, it felt like an eternity, time stretching on as we waited to be let back into the great hall. Hazel was a mess, crying in Annabelle’s arms, as Annabelle tried futilely to soothe her. With few words to say, she had resorted simply to a comforting shushing, well–honed after a year with a baby.

  As soon as the doors opened again, we rushed inside. Conor was already at Adam’s side, and Hazel and I flew there as well. Hazel cradled his head in her lap as I assisted Conor with his examination.

  Adam did not look good. His face was deathly pale, and his chest scarcely moved, his breaths were so shallow. His pulse had slowed to be almost imperceptible. Blood seeped out of the wound on his stomach, a wound that was one of the worst I had ever seen. In the light of the fire, bone and organs showed through the tear. Granted, it was not as bad as that of Roderick, but then, Roderick hadn’t survived his. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be the case for Adam.

  “What happened?” I asked as Conor ran his hands over him, doing a quick examination.

  “We had all separated,” Jasper said. He had sat down in a chair at Adam’s feet, watching us work. “Stupid, in hindsight. I met up with Conor and Stephen. We were about to find the others and head back to the house when we heard Adam’s howl. We found him like this, lying at the foot of a tree.”

  “Do you know who did it?” I asked.

  “We have our suspicions, of course,” Jasper sighed, “but by the time we got to him, his attacker was gone.”

  “Seth again?” I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear him say it.

  “It appears that way.”

  “This certainly is his modus operandi,” Conor said.

  “Is he going to survive?” I asked, trying to speak low enough that Hazel couldn’t hear our conversation. She didn’t appear to be listening, anyway, speaking in low, soothing tones to Adam as tears dripped down her face.

  “I think so. We need to get him patched up. If we can do that, his body should work quickly enough to do the rest,” Conor said.

  It was another advantage to being a wolf, I supposed. If a wolf was injured but not killed, his body was able to heal itself rapidly. It seemed that Roderick had been attacked in too swift a motion, but Adam’s attacker hadn’t finished the job, and as a result, he might be all right.

  The doors to the great hall opened and Bridget came in, shutting the doors softly behind her.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked. “I heard a commotion.”

  She came closer to see Adam lying on the floor. Her face paled. “Oh my goodness.”

  “Bridget, I need some supplies,” Conor said. Bridget snapped out of her shock.

  “Of course,” she said. “Whatever I can do. What do you need me to grab?”

  Conor began rattling off a list of supplies, such as a needle and thread. It reminded me distinctly of when I had first come to Wolf’s Peak. That time, the cook had sliced her arm, nothing nearly as dangerous as what we had before us now. Back then, I had been the one giving orders and fixing the wounds. Truthfully, I was happy to pass that duty off to someone else.

  Adam was beginning to stir, his eyelids fluttering. While that was a positive sign, it had the potential to be dangerous here. If he was awake while Conor was trying to stitch him up, there was no telling what sort of movements he would make during the painful procedure, es
pecially in his pain–induced haze.

  “I’ll help you,” I offered. “We should find the ether as well.”

  Conor looked at Adam and saw him beginning to wake. “Yes. Ether too.”

  We were only gone for a few minutes, but of course, it felt longer than that. All the first aid supplies were kept in the kitchen. I was thankful that Jasper kept a kit that rivaled a doctor’s. He claimed he never knew what might happen in the woods, and so he wanted to always be prepared. As my fingers closed around the brown bottle of ether, I thanked God for Jasper’s caution.

  Supplies in hand, Bridget and I returned so we could begin the extensive task of repairing Adam’s injuries. Once we set the tools next to Conor, we breathed a collective sigh of relief. I was happy to see that Conor spent some time sterilizing his makeshift instruments, as I knew that plenty of doctors wouldn’t have. When everything was ready, he threaded the needle and began the delicate task of cleaning Adam’s wound before he sewed it up.

  As Conor dabbed at the wound with a swab of alcohol, Adam writhed and cried out in pain.

  “I need someone to hold him down,” Conor yelled out, as Hazel began crying. Jasper moved off his chair and held Adam down by the arms. Conor continued to attempt to clean the wound, but Adam was still twisting and writhing in Jasper’s grasp.

  “Christine.” Conor nodded at the bottle of ether Bridget had brought. I dripped some onto a rag, not wanting to completely knock out Adam, but rather subdue him a bit.

  “It’s going to take more than that,” Jasper warned.

  “I only want to get him to relax,” I said. I placed the rag under his nose, but it seemed it made no difference. He continued to thrash.

  “Christine, I need him out,” Conor said.

  I gave up on the rag. Jasper had been right. This time I took the whole bottle and put it under his nose, using my hands to waft the scent toward him the same way that doctors used smelling salts for women who had swooned. It still took longer than any of us would have liked, but at long last, his body began to react to the chemical. He became relaxed, his head lolling onto Hazel’s lap.