The Haunting

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The Haunting Page 24

by E. M. MacCallum


  “And leave Aidan here?” I protested.

  Joel glanced over his shoulder at me then to the two wolves as their anger seemed to fuel their fight, escalating the speed.

  I realized that Aidan had fully changed. The roan color of his fur reflected the moonlight with each swipe and lunge.

  What if Read was right? What if he wasn’t himself?

  “I’m staying out here,” Phoebe announced, her golden head held high.

  Joel turned his back to us silently, taking Claire with him.

  Read started to follow before turning to the two of us. “You’re risking yourselves uselessly. If he wins, we can come out.”

  “What if he needs our help?” Phoebe countered.

  Read stared at her, sadness in his grey eyes. “What would you do to help? You get in the middle of that and you’ll be killed.”

  The wolves backed toward us, forcing us to leap apart. I went left while Phoebe and Read went right.

  Separated by the two wolves, I held my arms up, close to my chest, just as Aidan snapped his jaws around Jordan’s throat.

  Jordan had lifted his head for just a second. It was such a slight gesture I wouldn’t have thought there was enough time, yet Aidan had ducked beneath. As Aidan gripped his former bully’s throat in his jaws, Jordan wheezed.

  Jordan tried to shake free, pawing at Aidan, attempting to roll onto his side so he could use his legs to dislodge the teeth.

  Aidan didn’t let go. Instead, he fell beneath Jordan, though he still had the upper hand.

  Read half-dragged, half-carried Phoebe toward the shack.

  She cried a protest. All I heard from her was, Dead. A gross reminder of her fate.

  However this turned out, Phoebe would be leaving me. My closest friend since childhood would be gone.

  I sidled away from the wolfish melee when I saw Jordan mechanically lose control of his muscles. He collapsed to the ground, one leg at a time, and his eyes began to dim. The more he strained to get free, the more his eyes dimmed, and the more they dimmed, the less he struggled.

  Blood poured down Aidan’s muzzle, soaking his new snout.

  Aidan rolled Jordan off of him, and I heard the thud as the man-sized wolf struck the ground.

  Aidan rolled to his four feet in a snap and looked down at his unmoving opponent.

  It wasn’t until Aidan’s eyes turned up towards me that I felt fear.

  I was no longer the fly on the wall.

  Aidan’s piercing blue eyes stopped on me. Blood caked his muzzle and chest, matting the hair like a chest plate.

  I should have gone with the others, I realized.

  At the door, I could see Phoebe and Read peering out, beckoning me to run.

  I’d never make it. I knew it. They had to have known that.

  Hope was a devious thing.

  Aidan lowered his head and stepped closer. His growl rippled up my spinal cord.

  “Aidan,” I whispered.

  Before I could speak again, he launched himself into the air.

  His body collided with mine, sending us sprawling.

  I closed my eyes and waited for the tearing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Multiple growls overhead forced my eyes open.

  Aidan still crouched over me, head lowered, but he wasn’t looking at me. His chin tilted up toward the trees, his breath slow, his tall, fuzzy ears twitching.

  Tilting my head back, I saw the three werewolves.

  They stared at wolf-boy then to their previous leader, Jordan. Both mangled bodies were barely distinguishable. The scent of metallic blood was heavy in the air.

  I felt nausea threatening to give up whatever bile I’d collected in the past few hours.

  Peeling his lips back from his long canine teeth, Aidan growled at them.

  I realized all at once that he was protecting me.

  The wolves didn’t growl back; they sniffed the air and hesitated at the edge. Aidan let a loud, intimidating bark that made me jolt, my knees knocking into his leg. It wasn’t an ordinary dog bark, however. It was the kind that could shatter eardrums and set in motion the flight-or-fight theory.

  One of the three backed up.

  As this one began to slip back into the sparse trees, the other two lost their bravado.

  At the sight of the mess, it wasn’t a surprise that they’d decided to retreat. Though, honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they could have taken him on. One wolf against three seemed unfair.

  The wolves didn’t turn until they were a safe distance away, and they loped into the dark woods.

  Breathing a little easier, Aidan started to step off of me when his nose caught the scent of blood on my shirt.

  I froze in place and let the long nostril sniff feverishly over the stain. Could he tell that it was our friend?

  With a snort, he stepped away from me, padded toward remains of wolf-boy, and sat down. He didn’t give any indication of what he might have smelled or if it bothered him. Could it be that Aidan was only partially there? If he was a full wolf, he’d be attacking, wouldn’t he?

  Joel stepped out of the shack first. Phoebe followed close behind him, then Read and Claire.

  They inched closer, eyes on Aidan, as I sat up and brushed the blades of grass from my ridiculous PJ’s.

  “Can he change back?” Phoebe asked me.

  I shrugged, standing just in time to see Aidan bite into wolf-boy. His muzzle was mashed into the gaping stomach. The wet smacking sound made me hold my breath.

  Wolf-boy jerked with each twitch of Aidan’s powerful head.

  Claire turned from the group and ran beside the shack in time to vomit.

  “Aidan!” I said loud enough to make everyone jump.

  Aidan lifted his head and spit out something shiny.

  Gathering closer, we inspected the crimson-coated ring. Blood oozed off the smooth surface, settling the ring in a puddle.

  “Ew,” Phoebe whispered.

  “Whose is it?” Joel asked softly.

  I glanced to Aidan. “Probably Aidan or Read.” I realized I was whispering.

  Aidan sat next to my leg. He watched the ring as well.

  “I take it he can’t change back?” Claire wobbled back on shaky knees. She drew close to Joel, keeping him between them and Aidan.

  “Well,” Phoebe motioned to the ring for Read. “Try it on, see if it fits.”

  Read turned to her, revolted. “Are you serious? That was just in a dead guy.”

  “How do you think I got mine?” Phoebe asked, waggling her fingers.

  When Read still didn’t move, I rolled my eyes. “Alright, you big baby.” I leaned down, hiding my disgust as I plucked the ring from the ground.

  I tried to dry it off on my shirt. It was already stained past the point of saving. Rubbing it free of blood, I tried to put it on my finger.

  I admit, for a split second, I was hopeful. I felt a rise of anticipation in my chest as I slipped the silver over my ring finger. It was far too large, leaving plenty of space between the metal and my skin.

  Taking it off, I handed it to Read.

  Pinching it from my fingers, as if it may be poisonous, he grimaced. “It’s still warm.”

  “Stop it, Read,” Phoebe snapped. “We can’t stand here all day and wait for you.”

  Slipping it on his finger as commanded, he couldn’t get it past his first knuckle. “It looked huge on Nora,” he pointed out, glancing up at my hand.

  “It’s not for you,” I said.

  Read’s grey eyes flickered towards Aidan. “For him?”

  Joel shrugged. “He’s the only one left without one other than you two.”

  I tried not to look hurt by this.

  Read searched out everyone’s hands.

  I restrained from petting Aidan’s head as I asked, “How do we keep it for him?”

  Read handed the ring back to me and shrugged. “Pockets?”

  “That’s a good way to get it lost,” Joel snorted.

&nbs
p; Read glared at him but said nothing.

  Claire reached back and unclasped a silvery necklace from her throat. “Put it on here and I’ll keep it for him. At least until he changes back. He might not be able to wear it because it’s silver, and that’s good, right?”

  I hadn’t even thought of that. What if he couldn’t wear it at all? Even after he changed back? If he changed back.

  Passing the ring to Claire, I thanked her as she placed it on the chain, clasping it back around her neck. It fell comfortably between her breasts.

  Stepping back from the group, Phoebe eyed Aidan before scanning our surroundings. The field to our back, the sparse sets of trees to our front. “Where’s the door? Didn’t we beat it?”

  Following her gaze, I turned around. The barley rippled in a light breeze under the waned moon. The trees were far enough apart that we could navigate our way through without too much trouble.

  I tried to think up an excuse as to why the door hadn’t appeared but came up short.

  Silence enveloped everyone as we tried to imagine what this could possibly mean.

  “Let’s start walking,” Joel suggested. “Eventually something will show up.”

  “Yeah, but what?” Phoebe asked.

  Despite the morbid question that left most of us to our imaginations, we started into the trees.

  Aidan took lead, sniffing ahead, much like a household pet. Except he was as tall as a Great Dane and thicker than a wolf.

  Once we were out of the moonlight, would he change back? Maybe in the next Challenge? He couldn’t be like this permanently. Could he?

  “Well, we can eat something at least,” Read said, catching our attention, even Aidan’s.

  Read held up a plastic zip-lock bag stuffed with jerky.

  “It’s ‘bout time someone found something,” Joel said.

  I was already salivating.

  “Open it already,” Phoebe said.

  It wasn’t until we all saw food that the intense hunger turned to desperation. We gathered around Read, and no one seemed willing to question if it were poisoned.

  I gave some to Aidan, who munched contently for the three seconds before swallowing and waited for more. Behind him, I noticed tattered clothes. Hurrying around Aidan, I picked at them. Only one pair of black jeans was worth salvaging. There was a rip in the thigh and the top button hung by a thread, but it was better than nothing. I was pretty sure they didn’t belong to Aidan, but I doubted he’d magically have them back on.

  Dividing the portions, we each had a fist full as we ventured further into the woods. We devoured every morsel of the bland, stiff jerky.

  My stomach twisted in knots at the presence of food. I almost felt sicker after eating.

  Sleep deprived but semi-full, we were content.

  Claire had managed to detach from Joel and stepped up beside me. “I was wondering…” she said in a whisper.

  “What?” I asked.

  She took a deep breath, as if calculating the right words. “Was he a good kisser?”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “Huh?”

  Claire batted her long lashes at me, unfazed. “Damien,” she said as if I were a simpleton.

  “Uh…er…I don’t know,” I answered lamely and started walking again. I didn’t want the others to get too far ahead.

  Following hip to hip, Claire watched me with the hint of a smile. “That good, huh?”

  I glared at her. “Why do you care what Damien kisses like?”

  “I was curious,” she said. “I mean, he’s a bit of a jerk,” she touched her cut cheek, “but he’s sexy as hell. I wish he was after me instead.”

  She was insane. That was the only logical explanation. “He’s not after me,” I said.

  Claire snorted and met my glare with a smirk. “So seriously,” she said again, “how was it?”

  “Why?” I asked. “So you can run off to tell your boyfriend?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she said softer, sounding hurt.

  I could have told her the truth, that I hated how much I had liked it. That every time I thought about him, my heart hammered with anticipation instead of fear. Then when all this was happening, I’d remember Cooper and Cody. Then it was nothing but overwhelming guilt. I was a failure as a human being—at least that half of me was. I wanted to think that it was the demonic blood that made me forget, that drew me to him, but that would be lying to myself.

  Could I see myself in the Demon’s Grave? Did it feel comfortable and right?

  I hated the answer to that.

  Finally, I shook my head and bit the insides of my cheeks. I was wringing my shirt long before I knew it.

  Claire watched me carefully. Then in a low voice, she leaned closer and said, “Sometimes we don’t get to pick who we fall for.”

  Part of me wanted to hug her, while the other still thought of the people we’d lost.

  After an awkward silence, Claire nodded at me and hurried her step. Her shoulders hunched and head down, she pulled up beside Phoebe instead.

  After some time, the woods grew denser, fuller, but it didn’t block the moonlight.

  Aidan hadn’t changed back. Still plodding on all fours, not far from any of us, he was a faithful companion instead of our friend.

  Who wouldn’t want a werewolf on their side?

  The only problem was that I couldn’t talk to him. I wanted so badly just to speak with him and find out how he was doing or, better yet, how he heard me when I spoke into the green living ball. Was it because he was the Keeper?

  I glanced at Aidan. His fur shimmered a darker red in the patches of moonlight. The blood had dried to his chin and front.

  “This isn’t right,” Phoebe muttered, swallowing the last of her jerky. “We should have found something by now.”

  A unison of nods agreed.

  Joel cleared his throat. “So what do we do about it?”

  Phoebe glared at him. “I don’t know! I was just saying.”

  “Listen,” I commanded, squashing the impending argument.

  We all stood still in the pregnant silence, waiting.

  Voices.

  Distant and unintelligible, but it was human voices.

  Aidan lowered his head, slinking ahead of us.

  Following at a safe distance, I kept my eyes trained ahead.

  A few times, I thought I saw something dark zip past the corner of my eye. Every time I happened to look, I saw nothing. The moonlight illuminated enough to move quickly.

  Claire gasped, “It’s beautiful!”

  Halting, I saw the mansion-sized home. It was a European style with Greek columns along the sides. Manicured bushes and colorful flowerbeds littered the clearing.

  It was breathtaking to see the vines snake their way up the side of the house, leaves curling in the moonlight.

  Stepping closer, we revealed ourselves in the clearing.

  Lights flickered in numerous high, rectangular windows. Gaslight lanterns had been lit outside the door, illuminating the front of the home.

  “This is amazing, like out of a movie,” Claire breathed, impressed.

  Joel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Didn’t Read…” He glanced at Read and shook his head. “The other-Read say that Victor Frankenstein lived in a big house outside of a town?”

  Good memory, I thought.

  Phoebe nodded. “He did.”

  “But,” Read pointed out, “that was Damien talking. It could be a trap.”

  “Or,” I said, hating to play Devil’s advocate but having little choice, “Robin could be in there right now.”

  Phoebe crossed her arms. “Should we bother going in then?”

  I waited for her to move before nudging her. “Yes,” I said. “She was our friend.”

  “No,” Phoebe growled, “she cheated on our friend.”

  Joel rolled his eyes. “Whatever gets us closer to the next Challenge. I really don’t care at this point.”

  “That will involve going in there.” I pointed to th
e house.

  Phoebe shook her head, pursing her lips. “Don’t expect me to stick my neck out for her,” she muttered.

  She didn’t look at us, only regarded the mansion with distaste.

  Sure, I felt betrayed by Robin’s actions, but it didn’t mean we should leave her to die.

  Aidan moved first, lowering himself to his belly as he followed the shadows toward the house.

  I followed him, mimicking his every move. I looked back to see the others behind me, trailing in single-file. Ducking and weaving, we made our way to the front door.

  There were enough shrubs to conceal our presence from the lanterns.

  Aidan nudged my arm with his head.

  Glancing at him, I saw his pale blue eyes, which were unnerving to see on a wolf, focused on me. He nudged me with his cold wet nose, causing me to recoil from his touch.

  He wanted me to go up to the door.

  I suppose Aidan didn’t have thumbs anymore.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm the thundering heartbeat in my head. I thought of the monster chasing us through the stone hallways earlier. He’d been fast, big, and could be hiding just behind that door.

  I set Aidan’s tattered clothes on the ground before tip-toeing up the front steps.

  Creeping to the front door, I felt small compared to its massive size. It didn’t look this tall from the trees.

  Reaching for the handle, I pushed it down. The door swung inward easily.

  Freezing, I waited for the high-pitched squeal that was associated with most evil houses, but it was extremely quiet.

  Inside, the house was dimly lit with candles and lanterns.

  The entrance had a table with several arched doorways and a set of wooden stairs leading up. I turned my head to look at my friends. Their eyes shimmered against the lamplight and made them appear paler.

  Waving them forward, I took the initiative and stepped inside.

  “Who are you?” The voice whispered from the side.

  I started to turn when I felt the cold tip of something sharp against the side of my throat.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Stiffening, I held my hands away from my sides. “My name’s Nora,” I whispered. “We’re not here to hurt you—”

  As ill timed as ever, Joel burst through the door.

 

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