Midnight Shadows

by Emerson Knight

  I told him everything. As I spoke, Sky slipped into the room, hesitating by the door and watching us with a worried expression. When I finished, he attempted to rub away the growing frustration from his face. His cheeks only grew redder, his brow tighter.

  “We have to go back to the Creed’s house,” I said softly.

  Josh’s scowl deepened as he straightened and defiantly folded his arms across his chest. For him, it was bad enough that we’d had to bargain with the Creed to save him, he didn’t want to give Marcia the chance to gloat. We held each other’s gaze for a long moment, holding a silent debate, but the result was inevitable. We had no choice but to follow through with our agreement, no matter how distasteful.

  “Perhaps it’s better if you stay,” I said gently.

  Josh swallowed an angry retort, then turned away as I gestured for Sky to follow me from the room.

  “I know you didn’t have a lot of choices,” Josh said, his voice suddenly tired. “I hate that I am the cause of this.”

  Sky asked him, “If the situation were reversed, what would you have done?”

  His lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head, but she knew the real answer. So did I.

  Rather than follow the agreed-upon protocol to arrange for another windowless van to deliver us to Marcia’s secret location, I used the information from our previous visit to locate the house in a quiet, middle-class suburb. Bernard emerged from the house to greet us with an annoyed scowl.

  Message delivered.

  Without fanfare, he and his bodyguards escorted Sky and me to the back of the house to a concrete-framed door that opened into the hillside. He led us inside to an unfurnished anteroom with a single steel door at the other end. Several cameras were attached to the ceiling, allowing a full view of the entire chamber.

  Nowhere to hide here.

  “You will be called at the appropriate time,” Bernard said, then led his bodyguards back the way we’d come. The door closed with a loud, heavy clank, leaving us in nearly total darkness as the chamber lights dimmed. The click of the door locking confirmed that we were temporarily Marcia’s prisoners. No doubt, she would take her time to get to us.

  Sky paced, adjusting the bag that hung from her shoulder while throwing increasingly anxious glances to the inner door and the cameras. Keeping my mind distracted from our containment, I imagined how far the bunker extended into the hillside. How many levels were there? If the pack ever found itself in a war with the Creed, what inherent vulnerabilities could the bunker have that we would be able to take advantage of? Like any bunker, they would need to intake oxygen and vent carbon dioxide, which meant exposed vents on the surface, somewhere nearby. By plugging the vents or using them to circulate tear gas, we could flush the inhabitants out.

  Watching Sky pace, I picked up the accelerated beat of her heart, heard the shallowness of her breath.

  “Are you afraid?” I asked.

  She turned sharply, surprised by the break in silence. “No,” she lied.

  You have the Aufero in your bag. I wasn’t sure she realized she could easily draw upon the orb’s magic to break down either of the doors. The orb might even be capable of destroying the entire bunker, if she knew how to use it. Worried that she might try, I opted not to remind her.

  Frowning at the camera above the inner door, she wrapped her arms around her chest and began slowly rocking from heel to toe. After a moment, her heart slowed somewhat. Her breathing eased.

  She was braver than she realized. It came out in times of great stress, when she made the kind of selfless decisions that saved lives—like mine, and Josh’s. To save him, she’d offered up unprecedented power in giving up the Aufero; she’d done so without a second thought. Securing the Creed’s assistance to save him had been crucial. Considering the level of power we’d encountered at Samuel’s home, I doubted we would’ve ever retrieved my brother without their help. I would’ve been forced to challenge Sebastian in order to trade the Clostra for my brother.

  Sky’s sacrifice was all the more remarkable in that she gained no advantage from the trade. Truly selfless acts were rare in our world.

  After a few minutes, the anxiety caught up with her once more. She began to pace more furiously than before. I could smell her fear. She was on track to a full claustrophobic breakdown. Once I realized she wasn’t going to be able to calm herself, I stepped closer, trying to extend my calm to her.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered.

  She flinched in surprise, then nodded.

  “If you want to leave, we will.” The consequences would be severe, but I couldn’t ask her to surrender the Aufero for me, or Josh.

  She backed away from me and returned to pacing, but she was calmer. I’d given her a choice. She was no longer powerless, trapped in a dark room waiting for someone else to release her. While she considered the possibility, I made another survey of the cameras, then the walls, looking for any hint of a concealed door. Even with my enhanced vision, it was difficult in the dark without giving away my intentions to whoever was watching us through the cameras.

  “I can’t leave,” she said, gathering her bravado.

  Relieved, I took in a deep breath and slowly released it.

  Our wait continued. Marcia was in rare form. I checked my phone for the time, noting the lack of signal. No doubt that was intentional.

  Sky managed to maintain her calm for another fifteen minutes before her agitation began to rise. Before she could start pacing, I stepped forward and gently placed my hands on her hips. She jolted, surprised, but didn’t resist as I pulled her against me so that she could feel my heart beating, enticing hers to match mine as I exuded calm. Tension eased from her as our hearts began to beat in sync, but it didn’t last. I was grateful when the inner door opened and Bernard appeared, waving us to join him.

  “Ms. Brooks,” he said, “please follow me back.”

  If you intend to take Sky alone, you have another thing coming to you.

  I followed her closely, giving him a warning look. As we walked down a long, narrow hall that gently sloped downward, I counted my footsteps, estimated the angle of descent, drawing a map in my mind. At the end of the hall, Bernard opened another steel door. The strong scent of salt, sulfur, and blood spilled into the hall. There was another scent there as well, something I couldn’t place.

  Passing through the doorway, we were greeted by a low chant. In a long room dimly lit by candles, six figures obscured by hooded robes stood in a line behind a tall table, facing us. The Creed, I assumed, joined by a mysterious sixth figure. The robes and hoods made identifying the figures a challenge, but I was confident that Marcia was at the center. A cauldron rested before her on the table, next to what appeared to be a dead lizard splayed on its back with its belly cut open.

  “You are not welcomed,” she snapped.

  I smiled, baring my teeth. “Then I will remain here unwelcomed.”

  Taking his cue from her tone, Bernard approached, reaching for my elbow.

  “I wouldn’t,” I growled.

  Marcia waved him off, then turned her attention to Sky. “Come closer.”

  Reflexively, she backed away from the command, bumping into me. I placed my hands on her hips, gently reassuring her that she wasn’t alone.

  “Now,” Marcia commanded.

  Sky took a tentative step forward. In response, the chanting grew louder, more insistent. Marcia added her voice to the rest as she flicked a powder into the cauldron, triggering a burst of fire from within. As the ritual continued, I logged every detail in my mind to report to Josh. The more he could decipher regarding the magic used, the more likely he could find a way to counter it. The motions of the witches gave away their identity, all except for the figure on the left end, the mystery witch. With the end of each verse of the chant, the figure waved a hand over the lizard, then gestured toward Sky.

  I didn’t recognize the type of lizard on the table. Its coloring wasn’t dependable, but the patterns on its sc
ales were unique.

  At one point, a circle of salt and sulfur was laid around it. Several materials were added to the cauldron, each at the crest of a rising chant. The last material was granular, and a bright green.

  The intensity of the chant seemed to be escalating to an apocalyptic finale.

  Marcia cast off her hood, then thrust her hands into the lizard’s belly. When she looked up at Sky, her expression was hardened, her eyes jet black. “Come to me.”

  Sky pressed into me.

  “Do you want to leave?” I asked, my voice so soft only her enhanced hearing could pick it out.

  She faintly shook her head, but I could smell the fear pouring off of her.

  “Skylar,” Marcia snapped, “come closer and give me the Aufero.”

  She swallowed, then slipped the bag off her shoulder and drew out the orb in the palm of her hand. Excitement flashed in Marcia’s eyes as she accepted the Aufero in one bloodied hand, then drew out a knife in the other.

  “Show me your hand.”

  Sky did so. A ripple of pain shook her shoulders as the knife sliced her palm deeper than necessary. Marcia placed the knife on the table, then took Sky’s bleeding palm and held it over the cauldron, letting the blood drip into the mixture. Once satisfied, Marcia tossed a handkerchief to Sky, who quickly wrapped her hand with it.

  As the chanting continued, I noticed a change in Sky’s heartbeat. Her hand went instinctively toward her chest and her head craned as if she were going to vomit.

  Marcia smiled. “Step back.”

  Sky quickly backed all the way to the wall next to me before she seemed to recover.

  The chanting suddenly ceased. The mystery figure completed the ritual with a final wave of a hand, then stepped back from the others and disappeared through a side door I hadn’t previously noticed. The figure moved with a peculiar gait, as if disfigured—or not familiar with the human form.

  “See,” Marcia gloated, “I gave you a fail-safe. Now you will know when you are too close. It is up to you whether or not you want to preserve your life.”

  “You are more considerate than I have given you credit for,” Sky said demurely. “Thank you.”

  On our way out through the darkened corridors, I could hear the erratic beat of Sky’s heart, the subtle effect of the curse placed on her. Upon exiting the bunker, she glanced about as if nervous or on edge, and her lips were bent into an unhappy frown. She appeared jittery, anxious, all the things that I’d felt under the influence of the dark elf magic.

  During the drive back to her house, she remained quiet within herself while she unceasingly shifted in the passenger seat, unable to find comfort.

  After parking in her driveway, I asked, “How do you feel?”

  “Fine,” she lied.

  She hesitated as if to say more, then sighed, shook her head, and climbed out of the BMW. When I stepped out after her, she gave me a puzzled look, as if she’d rather be alone to stew in her misery. As much as I wanted to allow her the privacy she needed, nothing good would come of leaving her alone. Catching up to her, I took her hand and turned her from the front door. She gave me an annoyed, questioning look as I drew her around the house to the coppice at the edge of her backyard. Within the protection of the dense bosk, I began to remove my clothes.

  “We should go for a run,” I said. “You’ll feel better.” Her wolf’s resistance to magic would provide a temporary buffer to the effects of the curse.

  I began to strip, expecting her to do the same. After unabashedly shedding my pants and underwear, I looked up to find her frozen, wearing a shocked expression. She pointedly stared at my chest, embarrassed by my nudity until she couldn’t help herself. Her eyes drifted down to linger on my abdomen, where she forcibly resisted the pull of her curiosity. Another time I might enjoy attention, but I was more concerned with her state of being. When I approached to help her undress, her focus shifted to the ground at her feet. Never comfortable with nudity, she seemed less confident than usual.

  The sooner I get that curse removed, the better.

  Gently lifting her chin, I met her silent plea with a reassuring smile, then lightly tugged at the bottom of her shirt. Slowly, she raised her hands over her head and allowed me to lift the shirt from her. I lowered it to the grass by her feet, then knelt and carefully unbuttoned her pants. An unexpected rush of desire flushed my body, but I brushed it aside. I wrapped my palms around her calves and looked up to find her glittering green eyes staring down at me. I waited patiently until she placed a steadying hand on my shoulder and drew first one leg up, then the other, as I eased the pants to a crumpled bundle at her feet.

  Rising, still holding her gaze, I slid my hands up the cool skin of her back and gently unclasped her bra. She shrugged it off and I let it fall between us onto her pants.

  When I reached out to help her transform into her wolf, she lightly pushed me back.

  “Go ahead,” she urged me. “I’ll catch up.”

  Reluctantly, I backed away a few steps. I welcomed the cool, soothing change to my wolf and padded into the brush, but I remained close. She’d not yet mastered the change—for her it was often a long and torturous process. I could ease that for her, but not unless she wanted me to help. Nosing through the brush, I found a nearby patch of grass to relax on, sniffed the air to be sure I had her scent among the pungent odors of grass and pine, then waited.

  After only a few minutes, I noted the telltale shift in her scent. A moment later, a beautiful gray wolf with pale gray eyes emerged from the bosk, shook off her worries, then ran past me with a playful look.

  I chased after her, nipping at her heels as we raced through grass and brush. We were at the height of our play when a mood suddenly came over her. She turned and darted away from me in earnest. I started after her, but quickly thought better of it. She wanted time with her wolf alone. Recognizing her need, I let out a slight whimper as I glanced at the surrounding brush, wondering how to bide my time. From somewhere nearby I heard the rapid beating of her paws on the ground as she raced, turned, and raced some more. She was reveling in her animal form, temporarily liberated from the oppression of Marcia’s curse.

  I distracted myself with the faint scent of a small animal that had passed through the area, but I didn’t feel like hunting. Instead I practiced my tracking skills, embracing the heightened sense of smell of my wolf, but my mind remained attuned to Sky’s scent, always making sure that I was near her in case she needed me.

  Eventually the sound of her play ceased. Her scent lingered in a single area, and I went looking for her. I found her soundly asleep in a sheltered patch of soft grass. Careful not to wake her, I lay on my stomach in front of her, rested my chin on my extended paws, and took comfort from the easy, steady rhythm of her breath.

  An hour passed, maybe more. If I could’ve left her in such a happy slumber, I would have, but dawn wasn’t far off. This copse was large, but not expansive. In the daylight, a large gray wolf would be noticed. Neighbors would likely call the police, or worse, bring out their rifles to investigate.

  I should’ve taken her to the retreat.

  I waited a short while longer, then gently nuzzled her neck. When she didn’t wake, I lay my body over hers and playfully licked her face. She woke with a mild yelp and a start, turning back to me with an indignant look. If only I could’ve laughed while she wiped a paw over her face.

  When she was through, I trotted in the direction of her house, then turned back to make sure she followed. She did, but at a reluctant pace. As long as she came, the pace didn’t matter. I continued on to where I’d left my clothes, changed from my wolf, and dressed. I carried her clothes with me to the side of the house and waited patiently. A moment later, her gray face peeked from the bosk and glanced about before she slowly trotted to the house.

  She stopped in front of me, staring expectantly. I playfully ignored the unspoken request for privacy. After a moment, she sat and glanced away as if she had all the time in the world to wai
t me out. Suppressing a laugh, I rolled my eyes, placed her clothes on the grass, then walked around the house to wait next to my car; I’d prefer to watch over her, but I assumed she’d want me gone.

  I expected a long wait, but after only a few minutes, she emerged from behind the house, dressed and visibly relaxed.

  “Do you feel better?” I asked.

  She nodded, frowned at the BMW. She started toward the door, watching me with a hopeful expression. Pleasantly surprised, I followed her, noting her palpable relief.

  Once inside, she announced, “I need a shower.”

  I lowered myself onto the couch and draped my arms across the back. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

  After a faint smile, she disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later, I heard the shower. Assuming she would be a while, I decided to take a shower as well. There was another full bath in the guest room. Opening the door, I received a stark reminder that Steven had claimed the room for his own. The bedding was the most obvious, with the posters a close second. The room was surprisingly clean of clutter, but I assumed that was Sky’s doing.

  My jaw twitched as I felt a surge of anger. Both of them claimed that their relationship was a familial one. They denied a romantic interest, which I didn’t understand. If they weren’t together, why was Steven living in her home? It was inappropriate. I’d made my opinion known, but neither of them seemed to care.

  The only reason I hadn’t caught his scent in the rest of the house was because he’d been with the Southern Pack for the last few weeks helping his mother Joan reorganize after Ethos had nearly destroyed it.

  After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I stepped back into the hall to find Sky was still in the bathroom. Listening at the door, I could only just distinguish her ragged breath from the tumult of water.

  I placed my hand on the door handle, but hesitated. Frowning, I decided to give her the space she required. After all, she wanted me in the house. She’d come out when she was ready. In the meantime, I determined to make myself useful. In the kitchen, I found what I needed and set about preparing an early breakfast. By the time she finally emerged from the bathroom, dressed, I had a warm plate of waffles and bacon ready for her. The eggs were nearly done.