Ghost Wolf

by Michele Hauf

  He swung around and marched off, leaving Daisy shaking in the middle of the aisle.

  “The allbeast?” she wondered aloud. “I have to find Beck and stop him. Whatever Marx has planned, this can’t be good.”

  * * *

  Bella left Dez and Ivan’s house and bundled into her SUV. Ivan had walked her out to the car, even though the sidewalk was shoveled and not icy. She’d spent a great afternoon with the couple, testing Dez’s attempts at cheesecake (still not there yet) and listening to Ivan’s plans for their new home in Venice. The couple loved Italy, and already owned a few houses around the world. Why not another?

  It had all been going well until Bella had asked Dez, in the privacy of the kitchen after Ivan had excused himself to make a few business calls, what she could do to help Beckett.

  Dez had explained to Bella what a peller was, a breaker of spells, and had mentioned that a Saint-Pierre had been asking the same thing of her. Was Beck in trouble?

  Nothing her son and the Saint-Pierres couldn’t handle, Bella had reassured her. And yet, Dez had gotten a worried look. She’d said there was a hunter in town who was also a peller. His name was Denton Marx, and she sensed things about him, but couldn’t be sure what those things were.

  “He’s in the wrong place,” Dez had said. “But I don’t know what that means.”

  She had warned Bella to be careful and to not interfere with whatever her son was up to.

  “Take care of the baby,” Dez had said as Bella had walked down the sidewalk on Ivan’s arm.

  Now, as she sat behind the wheel, thankful for the seat warmers that heated her butt and back, she ran her gloved fingers along the steering wheel. “I wonder if Beck knows the hunter is someone who can help him break the spell?”

  She tugged her cell phone out of her pocket. Shook her head. “I’ll stop by. A mother doesn’t need an excuse to visit her son.”

  * * *

  Time to go straight to the source. Denton had lost all patience. And he couldn’t bear to consider the Severo man’s lover had offered her wolf in exchange for his life. Severo probably wasn’t aware of such an offer.

  A real man stood up for himself and for his woman.

  Unfortunately for the woman, she would soon be grieving her lover’s death.

  Couldn’t be helped. Denton had worked too long collecting ingredients for this spell to let emotions tumble it now. Just one last element to the spell, and he could summon Sencha back into his arms.

  When the allbeast was created it sought the Edge, its natural habitat, and the only way for it to travel into such a place was to replace another, who would then exchange places with the allbeast. Sencha. And once and for all, they could leave this horrible time for good.

  He pulled the car down the gravel road to his cabin. One last look at Sencha, then he’d go after Beck. On the passenger seat sat a pistol, loaded with the specialized bullets that contained the nano-silver pellets. He’d gotten them more than a hundred years from now. As well, in the backseat, the crossbow with the same nano-silver-tipped arrows waited. He’d learned that he had to take the werewolf down while in werewolf form. The simple four-legged wolf form wouldn’t do. He’d made that mistake once. Though at the time, when he’d shot the wolf in practice, he’d only thought it a natural gray wolf.

  He noted the headlights arriving before the Marx homestead. The truck belonged to the Severo werewolf. Denton’s heart raced as he shoved the pistol at the back of his pants and grabbed the crossbow. He had not invited anyone here. And yet, he shouldn’t expect anything less than a showdown to the final breaths.

  Breaths he would steal from the werewolf.

  Aiming the crossbow, he vacillated between pulling the trigger and not. He didn’t want to kill the man in were form. He needed to shift to that monstrous ghost wolf. But an arrow skimming his skin could be just the thing to anger him sufficiently.

  Chapter 31

  Beck sensed the hunter’s decision to pull the crossbow trigger a nanosecond before it happened. He dodged, feeling the arrow skim the hair on his head. Racing for Marx, he slammed his hands against the man’s shoulders, pushing him down onto the snow-packed driveway. The crossbow skittered across the slick surface.

  A vehicle pulled up the long driveway, and Trouble’s howl could be heard from inside the closed truck.

  “If the Saint-Pierre boys get hold of you,” Beck snarled at the man, “it’s all over. What the hell do you want from me?”

  “Your werewolf,” Denton said. “I need a werewolf’s essence to save her.”

  Beck followed the man’s pointing finger. The sky was rapidly darkening, and the space between the cabin and the work shed looked over a vast field, backed by a thin line of pine trees. But he saw something move. Not an animal or bird. It was faint. Was it a woman?

  “She’s trapped in the Edge,” the hunter explained. He kneed Beck in the ribs, but Beck maintained his hold on Marx’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground. “I have a spell to release her. But I need a werewolf to complete it.”

  “So you want to kill me to save her?” Beck asked.

  The brothers, all four of them, tumbled out from the truck. Trouble called for Beck to hold him; he was coming.

  “Please,” Denton pleaded. “She is my— Our souls belong together. She has been trapped for months.”

  “Yeah? Somehow I don’t care to die today.” Beck tugged the man upright.

  Trouble lunged in and punched the hunter’s jaw, splaying him out across the ground.

  “Not this way.” Beck shoved Trouble away from the unconscious hunter. “We’re not going to kill him.”

  “I heard him say he needed you dead,” Stryke said. The brothers filed beside Denton’s body.

  “He said something about a spell to save her.” Beck thrust his hand toward the figment, which still stood off in the clearing. “Do you see her?”

  “I do.” Kelyn strode over the snow, his footsteps inaudible, right up to the figment of the woman. He reached through the air, aiming for her hair, but his hand went right through her. She didn’t turn to acknowledge his presence. “A ghost?”

  “I don’t know,” Beck said. “He said something about her being trapped in the Edge.”

  Blade hissed and took out a bowie knife, holding it in defense, not over the hunter, but as if he expected something to come out from the surrounding woods.

  “I’ve heard about the Edge,” Stryke said. “It’s not a place anyone wants to visit. I’d take Daemonia over the Edge any day. What’s she doing in there?”

  “He said she was his lover. That their souls belonged together.” Beck wandered over to where Kelyn studied the figment, but glanced over his shoulder. “Leave him alone, Trouble! Is there some way we can get her out?” he asked the faery as he joined his side. “That seems to be the hunter’s goal. Said he needed a werewolf to complete the spell. She’s...beautiful.”

  Kelyn shook his head. “From what you’ve told me, I suspect she’s a wandersoul.”

  “A what?”

  “A time witch. One whose soul wanders continuously through time. They can’t stop. Not unless they find another soul worthy of their love.”

  “Soul mates?”

  “In the truest sense of the term.”

  “You said she is a time traveler?”

  “And the hunter might have come from another time, as well.”

  “I thought his clothes looked odd, like he was wearing a costume from another time. But what is the Edge?”

  “It’s another dimension.” Kelyn waved his hand through the woman’s figment. “Probably landed there instead of her goal time period. One of the dangers of time travel is falling into the Edge. The only thing that’ll bring her out is some sort of exchange with an occupant in this dimension, I’m sure of that.”

  “Like an exchange spell? And that spell requires a dead werewolf.”

  Kelyn turned and strode back to his brothers.

  Beck remained and walked around to stand befo
re the woman. Ghostly and pale, she looked right at him yet didn’t see him. Her hair was tangled and her clothing in tatters. The long dress was corseted, and the lace at her wrists hung in tatters. She’d been through hell; he could sense it from her eyes. They looked right through him. She’d given up.

  “Another dimension and time travel? This is too weird for me. But if there was a way to save you...”

  He placed his palm flat before her. If there were a means to let her know that he stood there, and was interested in helping her...

  Beck glanced to the Saint-Pierre men, who stepped in a circle as the hunter roused and sat up. Another set of headlights revealed Daisy’s car. But he saw two people in the front.

  “This is getting out of hand.” He marched back to the brothers. “Do not harm him,” he warned, as he continued on toward Daisy’s car.

  When his mother got out of the passenger side, he swore under his breath. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw Daisy in town, and she said she was on her way to your house. But then we passed this property and I recognized your truck. Dez told me about the allbeast spell—”

  “Mom? You shouldn’t concern yourself with this. It’s not safe for you here.”

  “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t make me incapable. Who are all these people?”

  “Get back in the car, Mom.”

  Daisy popped out and strode up to Beck. She looked ready to run into his arms for a hug, so he stepped back and put his hands to his hips. Daisy stopped abruptly before him.

  “We’re here to support you,” she said to him. “The man who killed your father lives here.” She looked around his shoulder. “You must want to do the worst.”

  “I don’t,” he growled. “But your brothers just might.”

  “Beck,” Bella said. “Dez said the man could help you.”

  “I know that. But trust me, I’m more valuable to him dead than alive.” He turned and stalked away from both of them. It should have been him and Denton Marx tonight. Not the entire Saint-Pierre clan, and his mother.

  Someone had to control this situation.

  Trouble grabbed Denton, and just when his fist would have collided with his skull, Beck grabbed the wolf and yanked him to a stand.

  “At least he has the courage to show me his anger,” Denton mocked.

  “Leave him,” he ordered Trouble and the brothers, who had formed a ring around the hunter. “This is between him and me.”

  With a nod of his head, Trouble directed the brothers to step back. They did so, but remained alert and on guard.

  “Daisy, stay back,” Blade said.

  “No.” She walked up, Bella’s hand in hers. “I want Mister Marx to take my wolf instead of Beck’s.”

  “What?” Trouble barked.

  “Daisy, you don’t get a say in this,” Beck warned.

  “But I don’t need my wolf,” she insisted.

  Bella nodded in agreement beside her. And Beck silently cursed his mother’s newfound independence that should have waited for a safer time to show.

  “The wolf is the one part of you that you identify with most,” Beck argued with Daisy. “I won’t let you sacrifice it.”

  “What’s wrong with your faery half?” Kelyn asked his sister.

  “I carry remnants of Father’s curse,” she explained to the brothers, who had been unaware of her struggles until now. “I can only be either werewolf or faery. I have to choose.”

  “You’ve always been more wolf,” Trouble said. “And Beck is right. You’re not sacrificing anything for this bastard.”

  “Do you not see her?” Denton pleaded, thrusting out an arm toward the figment. “Her name is Sencha, and she is my love, and she is trapped in the Edge. Her only hope is if I can complete the spell and send the allbeast to switch places with her.”

  “Not our problem, buddy. Most especially not worth murder,” Trouble said.

  “She looks so lost,” Bella said quietly.

  All the men’s heads turned toward the vampiress, who cradled her swollen belly. Even the hunter regarded her. Denton gasped.

  Noting his reaction, Daisy pulled Bella forward. “This is Belladonna Severo,” she said to Denton. “Three months ago on a cold November night, she waited to tell her husband about the child she was carrying, but he never returned home. Instead, his son, that man you want to now kill, returned home with his father in his arms. He’d been shot by a hunter’s bullet. A silver bullet.”

  Denton grasped Beck’s gaze before then returning his attention to Bella. “Truly?”

  Bella nodded and bowed her head, but then lifted it proudly. “I forgive you.”

  “Mother, you don’t have to say that.”

  “I mean it,” Bella reiterated. “Just because I can forgive does not mean I condone the act.”

  “But...” Denton’s jaw dropped. “I took your husband’s life?”

  Bella nodded.

  “I...” The hunter pressed his fingers over his gaping mouth. He shook his head and looked to Beck for confirmation.

  “It was me who charged you that night you killed the wolf,” Beck said. “I chased you away from my father’s body.”

  “I hadn’t known I had to kill the beast in werewolf form,” Denton said quickly. “It was a wasted shot—”

  Beck lunged for the hunter, landing them both on the ground as Bella screamed. The brothers formed a circle around the fallen men, shutting them off from the women.

  “A wasted shot?” Beck felt his werewolf stretching at his spine. He dug his fingers into Denton’s shoulders, but knew it was too late. “I won’t do it!”

  He shoved the hunter away from him. Beck crept away, his body shifting as he did so. “I have to get out of here. Daisy, don’t let them—”

  His werewolf came upon him so rapidly, his sweater tore away from his biceps and chest. Managing to step out of his boots, Beck landed on powerful hind paws with each step.

  * * *

  Daisy pushed Bella toward Blade, the safest place she could be right now. “Protect her.”

  Blade tugged the vampiress toward Daisy’s car.

  Daisy saw Denton pull a weapon from the back of his pants. “He’s got a gun!”

  Kelyn moved swiftly. The heel of his palm landed on Denton’s shoulder just as the hunter lifted his arm to aim. The pistol fired skyward, the retort echoing across the snowy clearing.

  Beck’s werewolf howled. Claws scraped the air. The ghostly beast, eyes glowing red, stalked toward the hunter.

  Trouble and Stryke grabbed Denton by the arms and wrestled him into a secure hold while Kelyn took away his weapon and slid it under one of the vehicles.

  “Please!” Denton cried. “He can save her!”

  “You don’t need the ghost wolf,” Daisy insisted. “You can take my wolf. You only need the essence, yes?”

  The hunter nodded. He glanced to Bella, huddled up against Blade’s chest. “Yes.”

  At that moment the ghost wolf’s claws cut across the hunter’s chest. Blood oozed through his shirt.

  “No!” Daisy raced to put herself between Beck and the hunter.

  “Daisy, don’t be stupid,” Trouble said. “Get out of the way!”

  “I’m not moving. He needs to see me. To hear me. Beck!”

  The ghost wolf reared and swung around its arm, its claws aimed for Daisy. At Bella’s scream, the werewolf stopped abruptly. It howled, lifting its chest and stretching its spine to call out to the moon.

  “Hell, he keeps that up I’m going to shift,” Trouble muttered. “Then it’s all over,” he said with a jerk of the hunter’s arm backward.

  Indeed, the air vibrated with aggression and werewolf pheromones. Daisy could feel the urge to shift, as well. Not because she wanted to hurt something, but rather because her bondmate called to her instinctual desire to mate. The situation had to be cooled. And fast.

  She thrust out a hand, her palm landing the soft warm muscle strapping Beck’s chest. “Feel me,” she said.
“Know me. Your bondmate.”

  Behind her, Trouble hissed. Well, he had to find out one way or another.

  Teeth bared and claws at the ready, Beck’s red eyes looked over her head. She knew he focused on Denton. The man who had destroyed his family. Now Marx relentlessly sought to take Beck’s life. But it wasn’t necessary if she could give him her werewolf. And she would. To save her lover.

  Pushing both palms against his chest, Daisy sidled up next to the creature, sensing its need to pull away—and yet it did not. She would hold him until he knew her, and ever after.

  Behind her, Trouble swore. Stryke told the oldest to pull it together. Her brother was shifting against his will. It was natural for a werewolf to want to shift when others around him gave off such aggressive vibes as Beck did.

  She closed her eyes, curling her fingers into Beck’s chest fur and whispered, “I love you. And I like you even more. I am yours. Settle, lover. Feel my hands against your skin. Concentrate on that.” If only she could heal him with her vita, but it was too weak even in faery form.

  The ghost wolf slashed through the air above her head, and then his paw landed against Daisy’s back none too gently. She chuffed out a breath.

  “He’s going to hurt her,” Trouble said.

  “No,” Stryke warned. “She knows what she’s doing.”

  Daisy spread her arm around the ghost wolf’s massive rib cage and hugged him. The wolf let out a howl that was both mournful and triumphant.

  Off by the car, Bella exhaled a sniffling sob.

  “I will break your spell, wolf!” Denton shouted. “I will do it. I must. Sencha will... I’m sorry, Sencha.”

  Daisy glanced over her shoulder to the hunter, whose head hung miserably. Trouble shook off the wolf’s ears that had already shifted on his head.

  And suddenly the ghost wolf pulled her into a hug that lifted her feet from the ground. And he did not crush her; his embrace was so gentle it must take effort to be so careful in his form.