Bayou Wolf

by Debbie Herbert

  “See that you do. I respect a man’s privacy, but Jeb was killed and now my sister’s been attacked. I won’t have it. This is my land, my family. We protect our own.”

  “Understood.”

  There would be no more attacks. He’d make damn sure of that.

  A scream rent the air and Payton’s fists tightened by his sides. “Annie is hurting her.”

  “My wife knows what she’s doing. She’s cured many of us from far worse.”

  Ah, but the lycanthropic fever was an unknown quantity. They had no idea of the danger. “What if the wolf had rabies?” he argued, to give Tombi a notion of how serious this injury could be.

  “If Annie is unsuccessful, we’ll get Tallulah medical attention at once.”

  Another scream. To hell with staying outside. Payton barged through the door.

  Annie didn’t look his way, but held up hand. “The worst has passed.”

  It was true, Payton saw when he got to Tallulah’s side. Tallulah’s flushed face had returned to its natural color. Damp hair plastered her scalp and cheeks, but her eyes were open and clear.

  “Told you Annie could heal me,” she said, a self-satisfied gleam in her eyes.

  He smiled. Even after an ordeal like this, she kept a fighting spirit. “You win this round.”

  Tombi nodded at him. “I believe you have some business to take care of.”

  Payton glanced uneasily at Tallulah. He was desperate to confront the attacker, but loathe to leave her side.

  “We’ll stay with her until you return,” Annie assured him.

  “I’ll be back tonight,” he promised Tallulah. “There’s something important I need to handle first.”

  He’d never dreaded anything more.

  Chapter 7

  Tallulah took a sip of the herbal tea and scowled. “What is this? Boiled grass?”

  “Feverfew, chamomile and a special blend from my Grandma Tia. Now drink up,” Annie ordered.

  “Witch,” Tallulah joked.

  Theirs had not been an easy relationship at first meet, but she’d grown to love Annie as her very own sister. She had a gentle heart and was a perfect mate for Tombi. Her brother was the stern leader of the shadow hunters, but Annie brought out a tenderness in her twin that astounded Tallulah.

  “Go on, drink,” Annie insisted.

  A gentle tyrant. Best to down it all at once and be done with the vile drink. Tallulah tipped the mug and washed it down. It wanted to come back up. She took deep breaths to quell the nausea. If she vomited, Annie would make another cup and force it on her.

  “There. Done.” Tallulah set the mug on the coffee table. “Now all I need is a hot bath.”

  “Not so fast.” Annie drew a needle and thread from her satchel and expertly threaded it.

  “Hell no.” Tallulah stood. “No stitches.”

  Tombi laughed. “I’ve seen you face evil spirits and sustain many an injury with no complaint. But you’ve always been a baby about needles.”

  No sense denying it. “Fine. I’m a baby. Now let me go get my bath.”

  “You have to get stitches,” Annie insisted. “It will close the skin tears and prevent infection.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Tombi pressed an amber-colored drink in her hand. “Drink up.”

  “Whiskey?”

  “It’ll do the trick,” he promised. “Make the inevitable less painful.”

  Tallulah downed the alcohol and gasped at the burning that spread down her throat and to her stomach. “More,” she demanded.

  Tombi dutifully poured another couple of ounces and she drank. Abruptly, she retook her seat on the sofa. “Get it over with.”

  “I’ll be quick,” Annie said.

  Tallulah closed her eyes, like she did for any shot. It was a tad better not to see the needle going in.

  A sharp prick on the already tender skin and she screamed.

  “Good thing Payton’s gone,” Tombi quipped. “He’d be climbing the walls.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “When we were outside and you screamed, you’d have thought he was the one hurt.”

  “Really?” Her stomach did a little happy dance. She wished he were still here, holding her hand. She focused on remembering his handsome face, the way he had run through the woods holding her, the concern in his pewter-gray eyes. Her gentle giant with the golden hair.

  The needle slid in and out, but it was bearable.

  “What kind of business was he in a rush to take care of?” Annie asked.

  “I’m not exactly sure,” Tombi said. “But he promised there would be no more attacks.”

  Tallulah’s eyes flew open. “How can he make such a promise?”

  “We need to find out,” Tombi said. “How well do you really know this man?”

  Good question. One she wasn’t sure how to answer. “Evidently, not well enough. But I thought you liked him?”

  “You can hardly blame me for a doubt creeping in after what happened to you.”

  “Give it time. If he’s trustworthy, and I believe he is, then all will be revealed in due course.” Annie knotted the thread and snipped it off with scissors. “All done.”

  Tallulah heaved a sigh of relief. A sudden thought struck her. “What do you think of him, Annie? Did you hear his aura?”

  Her sister-in-law wasn’t a shadow hunter, but she possessed her own unique gift. She could hear music around other people, could intuit something of their hidden natures.

  Annie blew out the candles and began packing up her supplies. “His was unlike any others I’ve ever heard.” She hesitated.

  “Go on,” Tallulah urged. “What did Payton sound like?”

  “Like the howling of a wolf.”

  Chills sent a tremor down her spine. “What does that mean?”

  “Is he Tallulah’s attacker?” Tombi was on his feet, anger sparking his copper eyes.

  “No, I don’t think so.” She tapped her lips with a finger. “It wasn’t an angry growl or a howl of an animal on the hunt. It was more...more of a lonely cry. I sensed a consuming loneliness in his soul.”

  “Lonely, my ass.” Tombi strode to the door. “The man has some explaining to do.”

  “Wait.” Tallulah rubbed her temples. “Are we really considering that Payton can shape-shift to an animal form? Like a werewolf?”

  “I intend to find out.”

  “I can handle this on my own,” Tallulah said sharply.

  Annie intervened, ever the peacemaker. “A woman has her own ways, more effective ways, of unearthing the truth.”

  Tallulah snorted. “Are you seriously suggesting what I think you are? Seduce Payton to learn his secrets?”

  “For what it’s worth, I sensed no evil in Payton. I think he’s a good man with hidden secrets.”

  Tallulah pondered werewolf tales she’d heard. Maybe he turned into a werewolf and either couldn’t remember or couldn’t stop his violent nature in wolf form. And maybe... “Oh, hell.”

  She sat back down on the couch, her head spinning. “If I’ve been bitten by a werewolf, does that mean I’ll become one?”

  * * *

  Payton entered the farmhouse. Eli, Matt and a few others were watching a Braves baseball game on TV.

  “Where’ve you been all day?” Eli asked.

  “Busy. Where is everybody?”

  “Adam, Riley, Jason and a few others went out for groceries and other supplies, Russell’s in the kitchen cooking supper, and Logan and Ben are sleeping.”

  Matt pinned him with a hard stare. “Anything wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he answered, a queasy rumbling in his gut. He’d never lied to his alpha before. Never. “I’ll go help
Russell with supper.”

  In the kitchen, Russell’s back was to him. The stove top sizzled as he flipped steaks, and the scent of baking bread in the oven permeated the air. It smelled of home and comfort. He turned and walked to the fridge.

  “Oh, hi, Payton,” he said with a familiar grin. “How long have you been standing there? Give me a hand, will ya?”

  Payton went to the stove and turned off the burners and the oven.

  “What are you doing?” Russell asked. “Those steaks need a few more minutes.”

  “We have to talk.”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Outside. I don’t want anyone else overhearing.”

  His friend’s face only registered mild curiosity. Payton went out the back door and down the back porch steps. He kept walking.

  “Where are we going?” At last, a vague alarm crossed his features.

  “Farther out, where no one can hear.”

  “Dude, what the hell?”

  Payton didn’t speak until they were over a hundred yards from the house. Turning abruptly, he faced him. “Where have you been today, Russell?”

  “Mostly hanging out around the house. Although I did go into town for a couple of hours. Why?”

  “Tallulah was attacked by a wolf today.” He scrutinized his best friend’s face, studying it for any trace of guilt.

  “The hell?” Russell gave a low whistle. “Have you reported it to Matt yet?”

  “No. I wanted to give you a chance to explain before the others find out.”

  Russell paled. “Explain what?”

  “Admit you attacked Tallulah.”

  He threw up his hands and snickered. “You’re kidding me, right? I haven’t attacked anybody.”

  “She described you, Russell. Right down to the streak of black hair on your scalp. You’re the only one in the pack with that streak. No way it could be anyone else.”

  His jaw tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s you. It’s been you all along. You’re the one with the fever. The killer in our midst.”

  Stunned silence greeted his pronouncement. Tension crackled between them.

  “You can’t believe that,” Russell finally said. “You’ve just met the woman. You’re going to believe her over me? I’ve been your best friend since you joined the pack as a teenager.”

  Pain sliced through Payton, white-hot and burning. “That’s what makes this so hard. It’s why I wanted to confront you away from the pack.”

  Anger distorted Russell’s face, twisted his features into an unrecognizable version of his old friend.

  “You can’t tell the others.” His voice was hard, uncompromising. “I won’t go to that hellhole of a place they call a treatment center. It’s a jail. A place of no hope and no freedom. I won’t live caged like a damn dog.”

  “Maybe the center can eventually cure the fever. I can understand you’re ashamed to face the pack,” he said softly. “You’ve been infected. You can’t help what you’ve become. But you should have told us, told me. Let us help you.”

  The anger vanished, leaving in its place a broken man. “Please. I’m begging you. Just let me go. I promise I won’t hurt anyone else.”

  “Where would you go?”

  “Back out west. I’ll live alone in the desert. Survive off the land—miles from other humans.”

  “Impossible. The craving will overcome your intentions. You know this.”

  Despite everything, despite the fact that this man had killed, had placed their pack and all other werewolves in danger, despite his attack on Tallulah, Payton hurt for Russell. He couldn’t help the murderous impulses that now drove him. Russell had been the one who’d first offered friendship within the pack. Had been a loyal friend through all the turmoil and dark days.

  Payton laid a hand on his shoulder. “If you can’t confess to the others, I’ll tell them myself. Pack your bags and I’ll drive you myself to the treatment center. I’ve heard they are making strides, that a cure may—”

  “No!” Russell’s eyes turned wild. “Keep your mouth shut or I’ll tell them it’s you that’s infected. Who do you think they’ll believe? I’m not the son of wolf killer. You are.”

  All sympathy fled. “Give it up, Russell. There are witnesses. Tallulah identified you. It’s over.”

  Russell lunged at him, hands gripping his neck in a death vise. Payton dropped to the ground and rolled, managing to get on top of Russell. Don’t let him bite you. He’ll infect you and take you down to hell with him. Payton kneed him in the groin. Russell’s hold on his neck loosened and Payton inhaled deeply.

  Russell scrambled to his feet, but he was still doubled over in pain. Yet he charged again.

  This time Payton was ready and delivered a right hook to his jaw. Russell fell on his ass and stayed down.

  “Son of a bitch,” he yelled.

  Payton stared at his savage eyes and mottled face. His friend was dead to him. “Be a fucking man and get your ass back in the farmhouse.”

  “Never.” He spit, blood dribbling out with saliva. “Come make me.” He bared his teeth. “I’ll get one good bite in if you try. I promise you that.”

  He stared at the stranger before him. The fever had burned away most of his humanity. He was no longer a member of the pack. He’d made his choice, and now Payton’s decision was easy.

  Payton turned away. He’d get Matt and the others. They’d hog-tie Russell’s sorry ass and drive him to Montana at once.

  Russell clutched his arm and Payton faced him. The fever was taking over Russell. The combined forces of anger and stress made it impossible for any infected wolf to restrain the burning disease inside. Sweat rolled off his forehead and his lips began to curl.

  “Give it up, buddy,” he said, trying to calm Russell. Slowly, Payton took a few steps back toward the farmhouse and scanned the ground for a possible weapon. “We can work this out,” he continued, hoping his level voice would get through to his old friend.

  But it was too late. Russell’s humanity was partially—if not totally—destroyed by the fever. The part of him that had been his best friend, the one he’d watched ball games with and had hunted with, and who had shown him the ropes in the pack’s social functioning—that Russell was dead.

  His face distorted into a rapid scowl and his skin transformed to a thick coating of gray fur. The damning streak of black fur formed on the top of his head, where tufted ears now appeared. His nose elongated to a snout, and green eyes morphed to yellow. Soon, two legs would become four.

  The beast was almost completely primed for attack.

  A low growl rent the air. Soon, very soon, Russell would pounce.

  Run! Get to the house. Payton fought the instinct. He’d be dead before he made ten feet. Why hadn’t he brought along a weapon? His eyes skittered to the ground, finally locating a two-by-four piece that had fallen from the old fence at the edge of the property line. He despaired it would be rotten, but it was worth a shot.

  Another step backward, this time angling toward the bit of broken plank.

  Russell growled again, louder. The transformation had completed. He lunged, an explosive leap in the air that was so fast, Payton narrowly missed being taken down. He rolled to the ground and grabbed the two-by-four. As the wolf was in midflight over his body, Payton jabbed the weapon at its chest and sent Russell flying to the opposite side of the fence.

  I need help. Fast. Payton ran toward the farmhouse, still clutching the two-by-four. “Hey, get out here!” he yelled.

  The wolf was in front of him, blocking the path. Payton held up his weapon and it charged. He swung, connecting with the wolf’s head.

  It barely fazed Russell, who swiped at him again. Pain seared Payton’s right leg and blood oozed from to
rn flesh. The vicious clawing sent a wave of fear and anger through him with a predictable result—bones crunched, and muscles and flesh twisted and morphed him into a wolf. One thought consumed Payton. Don’t let him bite you.

  Unrelenting, Russell charged again.

  His best bet was to run. Even if he could beat him in a fair fight, chances were good that Russell could get in a bite. That’s all he needed to do, and Payton’s life would be ruined.

  He ran, all four legs beneath him pumping faster than they’d ever been required. Russell’s breath and the pounding of paws was close behind. Gaining on him. Where the hell were his friends?

  The chase continued. Payton swerved and darted, narrowly escaping the nips at his heels. He barely registered the creak of the door opening and human voices. His entire concentration was focused on avoiding the chance of infected saliva burrowing into him.

  Men ran toward Payton and Russell slowed, obviously hesitant to engage with more than one adversary at a time. Payton dropped at the alpha’s feet, willing his body to transform back to human as Russell turned tail and disappeared into the woods. Damn it, they needed to go after him.

  Matt’s face thrust near Payton’s, concern radiating from his gray eyes. “What happened? Why were you two fighting?”

  Payton fought to speak, but the change from wolf to human wasn’t instantaneous. He yipped and then cleared his throat as his lips and lungs fully formed. “Russell’s the one infected,” he panted, exhausted from the chase. His chest heaved up and down as he gathered energy. “He attacked Tallulah today and she can identify him.”

  Matt scowled. “How could she know which wolf attacked?”

  “She described the tuft of black fur on his head. I confronted him and he admitted the truth.”

  A strange silence descended and Payton glanced around, stumbling to his feet. Eli and Adam had followed Matt out to the yard.

  The two men exchanged a glance. “How do we know it’s not you?” Eli asked bluntly. “Could be you’ve concocted a story to throw us off the trail.”

  Heat flooded his face. “And how do you explain Russell’s running away? I’m still here.”