Bitten by Treachery (Hadley Werewolves)

by Shawntelle Madison

  Right outside, underneath the overhang of a building, a form slinked against the far shadow. It was a man—or what had once been one. His watery eyes were wide and his skin bleached. Dark purple veins lined the skin around his cheek. Drops of blood dripped along his clawed hands and onto the concrete below.

  Oh, shit. What in the hell was that?

  She took a single step closer, her shoes scrapping on the hardwood floor. She had to see. She had to confirm what she hoped wasn’t real.

  His head suddenly twitched. He brought his nose to air and took a step toward Charly’s window. She backed up again until she hit the shelves with a hard thump. Could he hear her? She sucked in a deep breath and froze, not even daring to blink. He couldn’t be real. She’d just enchanted Trenton the night before. Things couldn’t have gone wrong so fast.

  But another look at that man’s face told her the worst.

  Somehow she’d unreleased Hell in Hadley all over again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Charly’s feet couldn’t carry her away fast enough. She forced herself to walk as she left the back office, keeping her head low as she murmured goodbye to Julia. Main Street was still busy from morning shoppers, at least busy for Hadley. Her gaze darted to the street connecting the main drag to the alley, hoping and praying someone wouldn’t emerge.

  Should she tell Julia? Indecision made it difficult for her to think. This place is better off now, but if I had known sooner, I would’ve gotten out of here. Brother or not, Julia had said.

  Trenton wasn’t sick. She’d seen him this morning and he was fine. Yet, she’d enchanted him. The spell had been done as she had been taught. So then who the hell had infected that man? Only a high-ranking werewolf could bring others under his control. Had someone arrived before Charly? Her dread deepened.

  Charly had to find Trenton and confess. That was the only way to keep this situation from further escalating out of control. She had to get all these people out of danger before the infected took over. Her mother would have to wait a bit longer for rescue. Without hesitation, she ran down the street toward the police station at the far end of the road. No matter what, she’d face the consequences of her actions. All of this was supposed to be easy. She’d take control of the alpha, and once he was under her command, the rest of the werewolves would fall in line. She’d return to Las Vegas with a powerful werewolf and a few pack members to help. In hindsight such a simple task.

  With each step though, she sensed the sisterhood closing their doors on her.

  “You’re abandoning our cause to aid the blood demons, Charlene,” Isabella would say.

  “Don’t choose them over us,” Ophelia would implore. “There are so many things you’re leaving behind. You’re on track to take over as head researcher. Do you want to give up your ten years as an acolyte?”

  But then she remembered Ophelia’s final words for her: Don’t ever forget. Those animals can’t get back their humanity once they surrender to the wolf. Our only option is to control them or lose our battle with the blood demons.

  When realization hit her in the gut, she stopped dead, and then her eyesight wavered. Her body went cold.

  They had no plans for her to come back.

  There wasn’t a glyph to undo the transformation from witch to werewolf, and since she lost her humanity to become a werewolf that meant they had no plans to reunite her with her mother either. She was a sacrifice. A tool to bring the werewolves of Hadley under control for the witches.

  Slowly, she made her way to her destination again. An ache formed on the crown of her head. After waking up pain-free, such a feeling bothered her. Almost as if her heart had been broken, and now her headache was the result.

  The Hadley police office wasn’t much. Just a one-story brick building with a sad bunch of drooping cacti in the front as landscaping. She’d walked by plenty of times, but never had she gone inside to see anyone.

  Today, if ever, seemed like a good enough day.

  The double doors opened up to a one-room center. A woman looked up from her desk. The metal sign on top of a stack of papers read Rhonda. She must have been the dispatcher Charly heard during her first day there. Beyond Rhonda, several desks lined up in two rows to another two closed doors in the back. Charly’s nose told her one door led to a private office, while another, based on the smells of disinfectant and body odor, came from the jail cells. Her shoes scuffed against the linoleum floor as she shuffled to the dispatcher. The main office appeared to be empty of other officers. No surprise in such a small town.

  “Can I help you?” The human woman leaned forward on her desk. “You must be Charly, our newest resident.”

  The newest killer of town innocents, Charly thought glumly. “Is Officer Spencer here?”

  “He should be back soon if you want to take a seat over there.” Rhonda pointed to a bench on the far side of the wall. “You shouldn’t have to wait long.”

  She took a seat as instructed. Not long after, a voice blared over the radio on Rhonda’s desk. “Dispatch, this Officer Crane. Officer Spencer and I are finished up here at the Osborne farm. The cows are missing and we don’t see any sign of them…” The rest of the report became unintelligible white noise to her ears as the realization hit.

  Missing cows might mean those who had turned had fed…

  No. No. No. Everything was happening too fast.

  She rested her head on her right hand. Maybe if she relaxed she could calm her beating heart.

  A breeze shook the glass front doors, shaking them against its hinges. Charly’s head snapped up from the sounds. She strained to listen, but couldn’t hear much other than the back and forth scrape of metal against metal. From her angle on the other side of the room, she couldn’t see the door well. The wind had been brisk during her walk to the station, but something prickled the hair on the back of her neck.

  One of the doors creaked open, and then the dispatcher yelled, “Is that you, Aidan?”

  Charly angled herself forward and caught the powerful scent of decay. Enough to make her cringe. Charly remembered the name of Sly’s son-in-law and realized that must be who rushed at Rhonda. The woman’s eyes grew wide as his claws extended in mid-flight over the desk. Rhonda screamed and scrambled back from her seat.

  Oh, holy fuck. Charly choked on a cry. With nothing in her hands, she glanced around for a weapon. One would think a police station would be the best place to take on a threat...if the guns weren’t locked away. She grabbed a chair from one of the desks.

  She turned to see Aidan land hard on top of Rhonda. His back twitched as he let out a long growl. “So sweet…” Rhonda tried to get away, but he sunk his claws deep into her shoulders. He heaved her up and slammed her back and head onto the hard floor.

  With the chair hung high, Charly ran toward them. “Get off her!”

  She swung the chair against the crazed werewolf’s back with a heavy thwack. Aidan didn’t budge, merely turning toward Charly to snap at her with his blackened long teeth. “Bitch,” he snapped.

  He yanked the chair from her with surprising strength. And now she had nothing.

  Fire. She needed fire. Using her fingernails, she drew blood in the palm of her hand. The initial pain hurt less than it usually did. Rapidly, she scribbled the glyph for fire into her palm. She sucked in a deep breath and then cupped her hands together to form a tunnel. As her exhale blew through her hand and brushed against the glyph, bright orange flames stirred to life and arced through the air to Aidan. A gust of heat fanned her face and burned her skin, but she held firm to her magical blowtorch.

  Aidan screeched and flailed, the flames eating away at his clothing and skin. Charly scuttled around him and ran to Rhonda. The dispatcher’s arms were a horrible mess of deep scratches, but she was still alive. Charly grabbed Rhonda’s sweater from her seat and ripped it in half. The garment wasn’t much of a bandage, but the material would make do. She delicately hoisted Rhonda’s arm around her shoulder and supported the woman’s weight
. Smoke and the stench of cooked flesh began to fill the room. Aidan continued to writhe on the floor as they limped past. As Charly reached for the glass door, the path to safety opened for them. In the doorway, Trenton held the door, but his arm slipped down when he saw what lay behind them and the dispatcher’s sad state.

  His mouth dropped open. “Oh, shit.”

  As the emergency sirens around town blared, the crowd in the town hall grew every minute. Their voices rose and fell in anger, bringing further pain to Charly’s headache. Yet the crowd didn’t grow to overflowing. As soon as someone came in, a few spilled out.

  Many other familiar faces remained though, including Julia, Emma, and Meg. Trenton briefly introduced her to Officer Crane, who told her to call him Drew, and a few of the other officers on staff. Their chat didn’t last long as townspeople came inside to vent and leave.

  “I’m not staying for another blood bath,” one man shouted. After he signed in with one of the officers, he pushed his tearful wife and kids out the double doors. He was smart to take his family and leave.

  Charly’s hands trembled from the burns. As the days passed her body was changing, and due to these changes, her protection from her own spells wasn’t as effective.

  How much longer did she have before the werewolf in her ran out the witch?

  A hand touched her shoulder. “You holding up all right?” Trenton cursed and lightly touched the red skin around her mouth and on her hands. “What happened to you?”

  She was ready with an explanation. “I had a lighter and used a can of air freshener to defend myself.” She snorted to show nonchalance. “Not so well, unfortunately.”

  “Damn it, Charly. You need ointment on those burns. At least some painkillers.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She presented her palm. “They look bad but I’m slowly healing, actually.”

  “Even if we do heal faster than humans, that doesn’t stop the pain.”

  She needed the discomfort. Welcomed it for what the witches had done. “Trenton, can we talk?”

  “Soon. I need to get everyone evacuated to safety.”

  “Everyone, can I have your attention?” One of the officers in the room yelled for everyone to calm down. But many continued to shout.

  “How the hell did another get in?” one man asked.

  “Who has come in recently?” another belted out.

  Charly waited for eyes to fall on her, but none did. There were looking for a human. A vulnerable human, not a witch in wolf’s clothing.

  “This was never supposed to happen again,” Julia said bitterly.

  “It has happened,” Trenton said. “And now we need to be smart and deal with it.”

  “Where is Kyle?” Julia asked. “Has someone sent for our alpha?”

  “I left him a message. He’s in Montana.” Emma’s voice had grown quiet. “He’ll take the quickest flight or drive if he has to, but it will be at least a day before he’ll make it.”

  “So much can happen in a day,” someone yelled. “Last time, twenty-four hours after the first sighting, our town—”

  “Now’s not the time to think about the past,” Emma snapped. “We got a problem on our hands here.”

  Julia took a step forward. “The last invasion was centered around my brother. Who got infected this time?”

  The many faces in the crowd looked around as if expecting someone to come forth.

  “It could be anyone of authority,” Trenton said. “We need to worry about the infected out there and the innocents in their homes. We need a team of armed men and women willing to go door-to-door to warn folks that don’t answer their phones or respond to the sirens.”

  The raised hands were few. With Kyle gone, the town only had three police officers, and five civilians raised their hands.

  Charly was one of them.

  “I respect your decision,” Trenton said. “Anybody who wants to leave town until the problem is taken care of is welcome to go. We never had a warning like this last time. I’ll make sure to leave a message on the police station information line when it’s safe for folks to come home.”

  Many in the room took it as a sign to depart. Mothers shuffled their kids to the door. As the room emptied only the officers and the five volunteers remained.

  “Where’s Officer Hurst?” one of the volunteers asked. “He was just here.”

  “He probably went to get his aunt and sister out of town,” Trenton said.

  Charly didn’t blame the guy. If he had someone he cared about, she wouldn’t want his family here either. Now they only had two policemen to help.

  “You should go with Meg and get out of here, Charly,” Emma said firmly.

  “I can’t. My place is here.” Her throat dried further with each word. “It’s my fault.”

  The few in the room closed in on her.

  “Charly, it’s a witch who did this,” Emma said. “They infected one of our own and now that infected wolf is bringing others under his control. Get yourself together. If you’re not strong enough to stand with us, you need to leave.”

  “What are you saying?” Trenton’s eyebrows lowered.

  “I’m not who you think I am.” She tried to swallow and failed. Warm tears fell down her cheeks.

  “Charly.” Trenton gently took her hand.

  “What does she mean?” Drew asked with a suspicious tone.

  A scream rang through the air outside of the town hall. Everyone’s heads snapped in the direction of the wide-open doors.

  “It’s all my fault,” she breathed. “I’m not a werewolf.”

  “She’s not in any shape to be a volunteer,” Emma said to Trenton. “Anybody in this room can smell what she is. She’s probably been through too much.”

  Officer Crane and another officer ran to the doors. After Emma gave Trenton a dark look that told Charly he shouldn’t her, Emma ran to join them. More screams poured into the room. The sounds of car brakes screeching and the thud of a crash.

  The sounds reverberated in the empty room where only the two of them remained.

  Trenton pulled her up from her seat. His right hand’s grip on her wrist was firm. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you to safety and help everyone.”

  Her lower lip trembled and her bones collapsed into smoke. “If you knew what I am, you wouldn’t help me, Trenton. You don’t get it! I’m not who you think I am. I’m a witch.”

  Trenton let go of her hand as if he’d been burned. His mind told him to back away. To run away from what she represented: death, lies, and betrayal. But she couldn’t be a witch. He drew her close instead, drawing his nose to the top of her head where he inhaled. A hundred scents wafted toward him: an evergreen forest at midnight, the hunt, her femaleness, sadness. A need to comfort her filled him. She is a wolf. Not a single trace of witch remained—none that he could detect.

  “Charly, why?”

  She shook her head. “I’m so sorry I enchanted you. I should explain everything, but nothing I say will matter.”

  She cast a spell on him?

  He paused. Was this need to protect her just a part of the spell she cast on him? Last night he’d say he was out of it for a period of time, but right now his mind was clear. No more gaps in time. Either way, it was too late. Any other man should leave her behind, yet he’d opened himself to her and now there was no way he’d leave her all alone. “We need to go.”

  The look of disbelief on her face was clear. The parted lips and shuffling steps backward, she hadn’t expected him to take her with him.

  When he spotted Emma, holding a gun and standing in the doorway, they stopped cold. So she heard everything. The chilly glare from the alpha female was cold enough to push his shoulders down a peg or two.

  “There are unaccounted folks we need to find. Drew is with the first team. You two are coming with me. I’m keeping an eye on you. Both of you.” She twisted to leave, and Trenton followed. Based on the way she marched out of the room, he suspected a conversation would take place soon enou
gh on the matter of Charly being a witch. Just not right now.

  Right outside the door, Trenton didn’t expect to see a war zone. The car crash he’d heard earlier was a family van pummeling a smaller sedan. The occupants were long gone, but the blood on the van’s busted out windshield told a different story. Something about the ripped up front seats warned him the problem had escalated beyond Aidan and his wife, Penny. Since Aidan was dead, his wife needed help to do this. A lot more help. So what the fuck had happened overnight?

  Charly trailed after him. He peered over his shoulder to glance at her. How was she involved in all this? She’d said she was a witch and had enchanted him. So was he behind the attack? That couldn’t be true. He didn’t feel any different. He clenched his fists. Had he done something after he made love to her? Had he infected all these people while he’d slept? How could they be infected if he wasn’t? He needed answers. Quickly.

  Emma took the lead as they weaved around street corners toward the first house. The list was short. Most folks got the hell out of Dodge. The Wendells, an elderly mother and her son, lived in a small house off Main Street. Emma slowed once they reached the driveway. The door had been bashed in.

  “Shit. We’re too late,” Emma muttered, breathing hard. As she walked up the steps, she tilted her head and inhaled.

  Trenton could smell it, too. The stench of death exuding from the house’s wrecked door. “Might as well check for survivors.” Or more infected werewolves lurking about.

  He walked in first this time with Charly following and withdrew his gun from his holster, carefully stepping over the threshold. He’d been in the Wendell house a few times in the past. Mrs. Wendell kept a tidy house at her spry age of eighty-two. She kept to herself, but once in a while, her son would call the emergency number if his mother’s blood sugar dipped too low and he couldn’t wake her.

  Trenton took in the scene. The household was a human one, but it looked more like savages had lived there. Death’s stench clung to everything, making it hard for him to determine if any infected werewolves still hid away. The destruction began in the sitting room and extended toward the bedrooms in the back. The photos of grandkids on the walls had been ripped off with clawed hands that gouged the wallpaper while the incessant beeping of an abandoned alarm clock was the only sound in the home.