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Wolfsbane: Aspect of the Wolf

Page 5

by Jennifer Colgan


  "You tried to run me out of town. Then you saved me from being dragged through a portal into hell. I'd say the two things cancel each other out."

  "Not wanting you to set up shop in Cypress Park, and not wanting you to fall through a portal into hell, are not the same thing."

  "Obviously."

  He made a sound much like the ones that had issued from the portal before it closed. “They're not opposites either."

  "So you still want me out of town?"

  God, the woman was impossible! He spread his arms wide to encompass the black, waxy sunburst on the floor. “If it means no more portals, minions, demons or warlocks, yes!"

  She put her hands on her hips and squared off, ready for another battle, by the look in her eyes. “If I leave, you're on your own if Chester Creek comes back."

  He squared off, too, all thoughts of kissing her into submission forgotten. “Your coven banished him, remember?"

  "That doesn't mean he won't try to come back. Or send someone else in his place. You need a witch in this town, bucko. You need a lot of witches, in fact, because without us, your sleepy little town would be knee-deep in portals to the underworld."

  "Somehow, I doubt that."

  She tossed her hair and swayed a little. Daniel resisted the urge to steady her. He'd lose this argument big time if he touched her now.

  "Fine. Well, thank you again for all your help, Mr. Garrison. There's the door."

  "You're kicking me out?"

  "Turnabout is fair play.” She held up her bandaged hand to stop his protest. “Before you say it, I'm still going to help your brother. In fact, I'll come over Saturday night. The spell I have doesn't require a full moon, but you may have to wait until then to find out if it worked. Oh, tell Vance to avoid dairy until then."

  Daniel blinked. Not only was Emilie Swanson utterly exasperating, she was completely insane. “Dairy?"

  "It makes phlegm."

  He shook his head. “There's going to be phlegm?"

  "I certainly hope not.” She roughly handed him his jacket. “Good night. And again, thanks for the bandage."

  * * * *

  "I'm vibrating,” Emilie announced when Charlotte answered the phone on the first ring. She slammed the door of her apartment and dashed her keys into the ceramic bowl on the end table.

  "That's a little too much information, sweetie. What you do in the privacy of your own home—"

  "I mean from a spell."

  "Ah. Werewolf?"

  "Demon banishing.” Emilie threw herself onto the sofa and stretched. Once the aspirin had kicked in and dispatched the pounding in her head, another sensation had taken over, a more intimate one that had her replaying every moment she'd spent with Daniel.

  Even when she'd been yelling at him and shooing him out of the shop, she'd been hot and hungry for him. The aftermath of good spell work varied from total exhaustion and even amnesia, to the female equivalent of a five-alarm boner.

  Now, home alone and frustrated, angry and shivering with unspent energy, she decided confession of her sins to Charlotte would cleanse her soul and help her put Daniel's deep blue eyes, broad shoulders and deliciously tight butt out of her mind.

  "More demons?” Charlotte's voice took on a familiar tone of suspicion.

  Emilie winced. “I had to re-close the portal in the shop. It sprung a leak."

  "Would you prefer I lecture you, or should I call your mother?"

  "You, please. That's why I called. If I can get this off my chest now, I won't feel the need to confess the next time I talk to her."

  "Reckless."

  Oh, God. Moaning, Emilie sank deeper into the sofa cushions and tried not to imagine how it would feel to have Daniel's muscular body on top of her right now. “That's just what Daniel said."

  "He was there?"

  "Yeah."

  "Spill it. I want all the details."

  "Okay, okay. But then I need a favor."

  "Anything."

  "I need you to talk me out of hunting him down and jumping his bones."

  CHAPTER 8

  Daniel greeted Emilie with a civil smile and a cool glare when she arrived at the Garrison house around 8:00 PM Saturday night.

  Vance stood behind his brother, looking anxious. He took the box of magickal items from Emilie and carried it into the house. “So this is it? You've got a spell that will work?” He followed her into the dining room where, as she'd instructed over the phone earlier that day, he had covered the table with a red cloth. A small silver bowl filled with sea salt sat at each corner of the table, and in the center stood a fat red candle.

  "This spell will separate you from the wolf,” she said, careful to keep her voice neutral. Daniel's proximity had already started her blood pumping and brought back unwelcome thoughts of lust. She allowed herself to glance at him when he picked up the brown bottle of coffin nails that rested on top of the items in the box.

  "I see you brought these back."

  "Don't worry. We won't be burying anyone tonight."

  His gaze flickered to hers and her cheeks grew hot. Carnal thoughts churned in her. How was it possible that she would want to kiss him and throttle him at the same time?

  Daniel set down the bottle and turned to open a cabinet in the adjacent kitchen. Vance helped Emilie unpack the box's contents, carefully placing her small cauldron, an herb bundle, his grandfather's silver chain and the small bottle of wolfsbane potion she'd concocted on the table with a few other magickal tools.

  "Extra strength aspirin,” Daniel said, setting a familiar white bottle on the corner of the table next to her other necessities.

  Warmth washed through Emilie's body, but she refused to smile at the sweet gesture. Was this his way of apologizing for the other night? After all, he'd insisted on staying for the banishing ritual after she told him to leave.

  Vance reached for the aspirin. “Good idea. I could use some right now."

  Emilie slid the bottle out of his hands and replaced it on the table. “You don't want to take anything that will interfere with the potion. You may need it afterward, though, more than you do now."

  "That's reassuring.” Vance rolled his eyes.

  "Sit at the head of the table. Take some salt from one of the bowls and rub it on your hands, then put the chain around your neck."

  "I can't. We already tried it and it burned me."

  "It won't now. I cleansed it and respelled it.” She handed him the chain, and it coiled harmlessly in his palm. “Daniel made it a little too strong. It'll be fine now."

  Daniel gave her a curious look, but Vance did as she instructed. He sat patiently while she set up the cauldron and lit a fire within it.

  While a small pile of rowan twigs burned in the iron pot, Emilie motioned for Daniel to turn off the lights. Vance placed the silver chain around his neck, and Emilie caught the look of relief in his eyes. She had to admit, she felt relief as well that it caused him no discomfort.

  In a fifth silver bowl she set in front of the cauldron, she poured a small amount of blessed water. She dipped her fingers into it and began her incantations, drawing power from the elements to aid her in her endeavor. Fire, Water, Earth and Air commingled their essence in the room, and Emilie felt the power rise around her as she placed the ingredients of the potion in the bowl and stirred them.

  To his credit, Daniel stood out of her way as she began walking the circle of protection around Vance. Three times around the table, widdershins she went, holding the water bowl in her cupped hands. When she briefly set the bowl on top of the cauldron, the liquid brew bubbled violently and turned from clear to blue. When Vance's eyes widened, Emilie wondered if Daniel clued him in about the color change. She hoped it was something he could live with for a day or two.

  When the potion cooled, she plunged an empty glass vial into the liquid and let it fill. Then she blessed the bottle and its contents before handing it to Vance. She didn't need to tell him what to do.

  He sipped the still-warm pot
ion, made a face as she'd expected, then gamely downed the bottle. Emilie held her breath and waited.

  After a moment, he shrugged. “That's it? Now I have to wait three weeks to see if it works?"

  "Do you feel any different?” she asked, ignoring Daniel's questioning gaze.

  Vance wrinkled his nose. “It tasted a little like mouthwash. With basil."

  "How come he's not turning blue?” Daniel asked.

  Vance laughed. “That's a good sign? Right?"

  "I don't know. I used plenty of silver."

  "Blue?” Vance's worried gaze bounced from Emilie to his brother.

  "You didn't tell him?” Emilie asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Daniel shook his head.

  "Aw, come on. Is this a practical joke? I'd rather be a werewolf than a Smurf!” Vance began checking himself for color changes.

  "It was supposed to last for only forty-eight hours, tops,” Daniel said. “Anyway, it looks like it didn't work. Nothing seems to have happened."

  Emilie frowned. She'd followed all the instructions to the letter. “Maybe the wolfsbane I used was stale. It's hard to tell with that stuff."

  "This is not funny, you two. Honestly.” Vance started to remove the silver chain from his neck and gasped. His left hand ended in five misshapen claws. Dark hair began sprouting on the back of his arm and yellow rimmed his irises. “This shouldn't be happening, should it—?” His question ended in an incoherent growl.

  "The chain should still arrest the transformation,” Emilie said, though she took a step backward.

  Vance bolted from his seat. Both his hands had become claws. Gleaming fangs protruded over his lips and his ears had elongated to points. With a snarl, he pawed the eyeglasses from his face and raced across the room.

  * * * *

  "How can he be transforming? It's not a full moon,” Daniel yelled over Vance's unearthly howl.

  Why hadn't they done this in the basement room where a brand new padlock gleamed on the reinforced door? He put himself between Vance and Emilie as his brother tore off his own shirt and scattered salt and silver bowls across the dining room with a swipe of his gnarled hand.

  "I don't know what went wrong,” Emilie said, ducking as Vance yanked the red cloth from the table and threw it across the room.

  Daniel sidestepped and caught the beast with a cuff to the back of the head as it bounded across the table. The creature—Vance—only glanced back and growled, then advanced toward Emilie, who held a bundle of dried herbs in front of her like a weapon. She shook the leaves at Vance, who swung at them, distracted by the movement.

  While Emilie and Vance sparred with the herbs, Daniel picked up the discarded tablecloth and prepared to throw it over his brother's head. Unfortunately, Vance obviously noticed the movement and whirled around. He snarled and tore at the cloth. Daniel teased him like a matador, while Emilie scrambled for the spilled contents of the magickal box.

  "Come on, bro, snap out of it,” Daniel taunted. “The moon's not full tonight. It's not your time of the month."

  He dodged when Vance lunged. They crashed together anyway, knocking over a chair. The force of his brother's body landing on his chest knocked the wind out of Daniel. For a moment, he lay stunned, looking into the remnants of Vance's face as the last of his human features disappeared.

  Triumphant, the beast snarled as it ripped the constricting silver chain from its neck. The creature leapt off Daniel and bounded across the room.

  A second later, Emilie screamed.

  CHAPTER 9

  The beast vaulted over the dining room table, trailing shreds of red tablecloth. Its yellow eyes found Emilie and zeroed in, tracking her as she tried to run from the room. Enraged and slavering, the creature lunged for her before she reached the door.

  She held up her hands to ward off the rake of razor-sharp claws and cringed as her back hit the wall.

  Think! Think! she commanded herself as the creature's hot breath warmed her cheek. Pinned against the wall, she couldn't reach anything to use as a weapon. The bundle of wolfsbane lay discarded under the creature's feet, useless.

  A low growl rumbled in the beast's chest and it swiped at her throat. Its claws just missed her flesh, but tore the protection amulet from her neck. The small pouch of herbs flew across the room.

  Instinctively, Emilie ducked. She slid down the wall and bolted under the creature's legs. It howled, as if momentarily confused by her actions, then whirled around and tangled its claws in the back of her shirt.

  At that moment, when the talons sliced through the thin fabric and into her skin, Daniel rushed toward them. He threw himself at the beast, and once again, they grappled. With blood pouring down her back and her shirt in tatters, Emilie dragged herself up and scrambled after the brown bottle of coffin nails, which had rolled under the table.

  She grabbed the cylindrical glass and twisted the tight cork out of the top. The shiny nails spilled into her palm. As a weapon, a two-inch-long nail seemed desperately inadequate, but it was her best, perhaps her only shot, at wounding the beast.

  She scrabbled out from under the table with a nail clutched in her fist. With the werewolf and Daniel locked in mutual chokeholds, they'd both probably pass out from lack of oxygen. But Emilie couldn't wait to see who gave out first. She ran up behind the beast and plunged the nail into the thick muscles of its neck.

  The creature screamed. Sorry Vance, she thought, pulling the nail out of his flesh and jabbing it in again. The wounds sizzled, and dark blood matted the beast's rough fur.

  Another jab and another finally enticed the beast to release its hold on Daniel. Enraged, it turned on Emilie and raked its claws across her shoulder before she could back away. She fell, weakened by the stinging pain, and tried crawling away. She didn't get far before the werewolf lifted her, struggling from the floor.

  She braced for the attack, figuring the creature would bite her. Instead of sinking its teeth into her flesh, it tossed her hard across the dining room table. She slid across the polished surface, and her breath left her in a surprised gasp when she landed with a loud thud on the floor.

  Dazed, she blinked at the ceiling, expecting the beast to come after her. Glass shattered. Daniel yelled his brother's name, receiving a howl of rage, receding in the distance, as the only response.

  Emilie sighed and closed her eyes.

  * * * *

  Daniel stared into the darkness outside the shattered remains of the dining room window. Vance had hit the ground running and disappeared almost instantly. In the feeble light of the waning moon, the deep shadows revealed no trace of him.

  A moan drew his attention. Emilie.

  She had pulled herself up from the floor and used her torn shirt to wipe the blood dripping from deep scratches on her shoulder and back. Blood also covered her lacy bra.

  He crossed the room and caught her as she swayed. “I'll call 9-1-1."

  "No!” She put a hand on his arm and looked into his eyes. “They'll ask too many questions. Where's Vance?"

  "He's gone."

  Emilie's eyes widened. “Go after him!"

  "You need—"

  "I'll be okay.” She pushed him toward the door. “Just give me a minute and I'll catch up."

  He took her arm and pulled her toward him. “You have to get these scratches taken care of."

  "I'll be fine. Find him before someone else does."

  How could he leave her? How could he not? What would he do when he found Vance? He headed for the door, but she called him back and her voice broke.

  "I'm sorry. I don't know what went wrong."

  "Don't worry. We'll find a way to fix it.” He wished he could believe it.

  * * * *

  The park. Daniel knew the wolf too well. It followed a predictable path through town, avoiding the well-lit areas, the busier streets and the shopping district. It always headed for the park, skirting the lake and winding its way into the deep, dark grottos where wise people didn't walk at nigh
t.

  He saw a familiar footprint in the mud next to the jogging path. At the edge of the softball field, where willow trees formed a curtain separating the wide-open space from the shady lanes and picnic areas, stillness descended around him. Then he heard the squeal of a small animal, a snarl, and the snap of tiny, hollow bones.

  "Vance!” Maybe a trace of humanity remained. But what if this unscheduled transformation became permanent? He thought of the gun locked in the nightstand drawer and cursed. Vance wouldn't want to remain a werewolf. He'd rather die. Could Daniel bring himself to battle the wolf to the death—again?

  No.

  "Vance! Come on.” He thrust himself deeper into the dark recesses of the park, tensed when he heard a siren and flinched at the sharp crack of a twig. “Vance?"

  "Oh, God! Daniel!"

  "Vance."

  His brother lurched through the trees, naked and shivering, his hands and face bloody. He fell at Daniel's feet. “Emilie?” he croaked out the word, retched, and gasped. “Did I hurt her?"

  "She'll be all right.” He hoped. “Come on. Take my shirt. Let's get you home."

  Daniel yanked off his T-shirt and helped Vance pull it over his head.

  "I ate a pigeon,” Vance said miserably, staggering to his feet.

  Nodding, Daniel threw his arm across his brother's shoulders. “Coulda been worse."

  "What if this happens every night now? I can't let Bethany see me. You'll have to tell her something. Tell her I had to leave town. Tell her—God, Daniel."

  "Don't worry. We'll fix it. I promise."

  CHAPTER 10

  Emilie surveyed the magickal arsenal she'd spread out on her kitchen table. Spell reversal was a tricky business that sometimes required a “reversal of the reversal” to get it right.

  I should call everyone together. The voice of reason droned in her head as she packed her assembled ingredients into a satchel. I can't do this alone.

  "But Daniel wants anonymity. I can't betray Vance,” she argued aloud. The painful scratches on her shoulder and back twinged as a reminder, that once again, she'd gotten in over her head.

 

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