Turning my head to face him, and completely unashamed, I said, “Yes, that is correct. Furthermore, as my husband, it is your duty to protect me from bugs.”
“Alright, Rozene.” He lifted his hands in surrender.
Colby asked, “What are we gonna do? I can’t drive if I can’t see.”
“The bruja wants us to try. If we were to drive off of the road into one of the ravines, it would give her plenty of time to escape or to cast more of her spells.”
The three of us looked between each other as we all felt something powerful tickling against our awareness. The sensation was like static electricity rolling over our skins. Then, a hard rain pounded down onto our trucks. Pelted with water, the disgusting bugs slid away. Again, Colby turned on his windshield wipers. They moved back and forth, eradicating the smeared bug guts from the glass.
“Huh. See? It was wise to bring Cecil,” Hunting Wolf said.
I was impressed by the medicine man’s skill, but I pointed to the vent where our crunchy little friend still rattled around.
Opening it, Hunting Wolf caught the bug in his hand, lowered his window, and tossed it out into the rain. Horrified disgust transformed my features. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You touched it.”
Confused mahogany eyes stared at me.
“Ew. Gross.”
“Rozene,” he said in a pleading tone.
“Nope. Do not touch me.” I held up my hands to fend him off.
“Ever?”
“Not until you’ve scrubbed your hands with soap and water.”
Frowning, he said, “It was worse when you touched Holden.”
Nodding, I said, “I completely agree. However, I wiped my hands.” Shivering, I took it back. “The cockroach is way more disgusting than the cock. Ew. It had wings and scratchy legs.”
Colby said, “Your legs are feeling kind of scratchy.”
“Really? Is that really what you want to say to me right now? In what accommodations should I be shaving my legs? Should I have used the sink at the park?”
“Sassy now that we’ve married her, isn’t she?” Colby asked.
“Rozene has always been spirited.”
“Look. They’re moving again,” I said, pointing at Sam’s truck.
We had only driven a few miles when the CB crackled. Sam said, “We’ve got company.”
“Now what?” Hunting Wolf asked. He took the microphone, depressed the talk button, and asked, “Is it more bugs? Rozene didn’t care for them.”
“No, Fido’s four-legged friends from earlier have shown up, and it doesn’t look like they want to play fetch,” Sam replied.
“Can you see Sophia’s house?” Colby asked.
“There’s a house a few miles ahead,” Sam said.
We heard Cecil over the radio saying, “Pedal to the metal. Get me as close as you can.”
Obeying, Sam floored the gas, and Colby sped after him. A wolf hit Sam’s hood and came flying over the roof of his cab to slam into our windshield. Flipping off the wolf, Colby turned on his windshield wipers which pissed it off. The momentary distraction prevented it from noticing when Hunting Wolf lowered his window, reached out, grabbed it by its hind foot, and flung it aside.
“This is just the scouting party,” Colby warned. He had his jaw clenched, and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The howls we could hear in the distance were a testament to his words. More wolves were coming.
“Colby!” I cried out.
“What is it, baby?” He looked through the windows, thinking that I was warning him of an imminent threat.
“Pascal’s pack is coming! They’ll kill you if they can. It’s only the five of us out here.” Desperation had me on the verge of panic. I was terrified for my husbands.
“I’m no slouch, baby. Holden has dubbed me his Omega, the weakest wolf in his pack, out of jealousy. Unlike some of his wolves, who were made by his pack members, I’m of those who Holden made. I’m stronger than at least half of them. Don’t you worry about me.”
“He’s right. Between the two of us, we can take out this pack,” Hunting Wolf said. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Aren’t you worried about me?”
I shook my head, picturing his Wendigo form. “You’re indestructible. The only part of you that I ever worry about is your gentle heart.” Lifting my hands to his face, I was about to kiss him when I saw his arm moving. “Do not touch any part of me with the bug hand. Don’t do it.” He froze, so I kissed him. I kissed Colby on the cheek. He was busy aggressively driving.
Behind us, the wolf Hunting Wolf had wrenched free of the truck had gotten up from where he had split a tree in half and was quickly catching up to us. “That fucker isn’t getting the chance to tear up my truck. Take the wheel and follow Sam,” Colby ordered.
I grabbed the wheel as his hands left it, swerving as I slid over and braced my butt against the edge of the seat so I could reach the gas pedal. Colby shifted as he jumped from the speeding truck, slamming the door closed behind himself as he did.
Hunting Wolf said, “Follow Sam and remain at his side.” Then, he opened his door and leapt out. In the rearview mirror, I watched as he shifted and tackled a second wolf. It had been preparing to jump on Colby, who had his fangs buried in the back of the wolf who had briefly served as our hood ornament. Tearing my eyes from the fight, I watched where I was driving. Sam’s truck slid to the side and stopped. Slamming on the brakes, I stopped with mere inches between the grill of Colby’s truck and Sam’s door. Putting it in reverse, I backed up so he could get out.
Sam ran to my door. “Hurry!” he said as he opened it.
I turned it off but left the keys in the ignition. Cecil stood in front of Sam’s truck, chanting and shaking a stick. “Stay back!” he commanded as we rushed to his side. “The bruja has some sort of magical barrier around her home. It’s like an invisible wall.”
Deep, guttural growls had Sam and me turning our heads at the same time. Wolves charged us from the trees, but before Sam could shift, all of us were knocked to our backs by a hard wind. My back slid along the ground, pushing me underneath Colby’s truck. Sam shimmered, and four massive paws appeared where his feet had been only moments ago. His furious roar made the ground tremble beneath me. Then, he was running.
“Girl!” Cecil called out to me.
Flipping over onto my stomach, I watched as Sam attacked the wolves. Crawling out from underneath the truck, I took the hand Cecil offered me and got to my feet.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered. He cautiously walked toward the witch’s house.
It wasn’t at all what I had expected. Neat gardens, dormant for winter, surrounded the yard. The house had gotten a recent coating of pale green paint, something my own home desperately needed. My appreciation was abruptly cut short when the door was flung open. Sophia stood within its frame, breathing heavily and shaking with strain.
“Begone, curandero! You and your kind are not welcome here!” Her frizzy gray hair blew back from her face, and she stared at us with a hatred which belied her sweet little old lady appearance.
Cecil raised his stick, decorated with feathers, leather cords, and beads, and shook it at her. Sophia cried out in agony. Cecil said, “Your dark magics have caused death and pain. You should not have sent the Chenoo against us.”
Gathering herself back up to her minuscule height, she laughed. “You shouldn’t get in my way. Bill has left this world, but I remain and will finish what we started.” She crushed something in her hand.
Pain seared through me, and I screamed, hunching over and clutching at my ribs. Sophia laughed. Looking up into her eyes, I saw the dark one there. Cecil sprang forward and knocked into her hand with his wooden stick. I heard a sharp crunch of breaking bones and a sharp cry of pain, but my pain stopped. Able to breathe once more, I straightened my posture. Cecil was blocking my view, but I could see what he had knocked from her hand. It was a doll. Reaching into his bag, Cecil grabbed a handful of somethi
ng white and sprinkled it over the toy while I watched in confusion and moved to stand at his side. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The two ancients were fighting a battle that I couldn’t see.
“Enter the house, little one. Find a way in. Search for dolls such as the one she used to hurt you and destroy them with fire.”
“No!” Sophia screamed.
“Do it!” Cecil ordered.
Sophia blocked the front door, so I ran to the right across the yard. The grass had recently been mowed. Someone had been taking care of Sophia, and before I had settled upon whom, glowing yellow eyes and a mouth full of sharp fangs arrested my sight. I had just turned the corner, hoping to find a back door. My head was almost even with the wolf’s nose. His muzzle was wrinkled from snarling.
“Nice doggie. Stay. Be a good boy, and I’ll get you something yummy from the kitchen.”
Pissed, he shifted. He didn’t need to be in his wolf form to kick my ass. “Well, if it isn’t Holden’s bitch.” He spat on the ground at my feet. Aside from being disgusting, I took it as the insult it was meant to be.
“With that little dick of yours,” I pointed between his legs, “you could take my place as his bitch, fucking pussy. Get the hell out of my way!”
Sneering at me, he ran a hand through his brown hair and thrust his hips forward, shaking his dick at me. “Why don’t you put that dirty mouth of yours to good use? Do a good job, and I’ll let you live.”
I must have been doing a good job of hiding my fury. He didn’t run as I walked closer. Lifting my hands, I let my palms rest upon his shoulders. His flesh was hot with typical werewolf warmth. He grinned at me. Calling Elizabeth forth, I used her strength to drive my knee up into his balls a few times. Then, I punched him in the throat. The werewolf’s face turned red and then purple. He fell to his side on the ground, clutching himself. Jumping over him, I ran around to the back of the house.
Jealously, I appreciated Sophia’s screened-in back porch before drawing on Elizabeth’s strength and yanking off its locked door. Running inside, I passed through the den and into the kitchen. Pots hung from a fancy rack over an island. From what I could see of her appliances and décor, Sophia had money. I checked the bedrooms and found nothing but clean, nicely decorated rooms. From the front of the house, the grunts of exertion coming from Cecil and Sophia spurred me to run back to the kitchen. Seeing a pantry door, I opened it. Aside from the canned goods and supplies I had been expecting, there was another door. A sick, twisted premonition told me to run. Instead of intelligently listening, I grabbed a box of matches from one of the shelves, gathered my courage, and opened the door.
Stairs led downward. Breathing through my fear, I peered inside and found a light switch. Going down into a witch’s basement wasn’t something I had ever listed on any of my to-do lists. Sounds coming from the sunroom had me quietly turning to close the pantry door. Kneeing the werewolf in the balls had really pissed him off. It sounded like he was taking it out on Sophia’s house.
I moved my foot down to the first step. A metal pipe, bolted to the wooden slats that formed the walls and ceiling above me, served as a handrail on the way down, but in my current form I didn’t need it. When my feet had carried me to the third rung from the bottom, to the left I saw a counter, stove, and sink above which were jars of embalmed animals and others which were full of dried herbs. In the far-left corner was an old sewing machine and bolts of fabric. I jerked in fright, my hair stood on end, and chills travelled up and down my body from my scalp to my thighs and back up again. Empty doll eyes were staring at me. Rows and rows of them lined the back and right walls where they sat on shelves. All of them were naked and sat patiently waiting and watching the spot where the evil spells were created in the center of the room.
They weren’t new dolls in pristine condition. They were old. Some of them were so old that their eyelids were the type designed to open and close. While some of them might once have been loved by children, they now shared a common look of having been forgotten and left behind at donation sites. One doll had been removed from the shelves and had been laid out upon the counter in the center of the room, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
A loud scream from the front of the house upstairs pierced my sensitive werewolf ears. Hurrying down the final steps, I was about to pull out a match when the pantry door crashed open. Then, splintered pieces of the cellar door rained down on me as an enraged, partially shifted werewolf bulldozed his way down the steps. Drawing on Elizabeth’s strength and darting to the left, I lifted the heavy sewing machine and hurled it at his head. He tripped over it.
Running around the center counter, I fumbled with the matches. Pulling out several, I struck them and tossed them at the shelved dolls as I ran. They weren’t catching fire. The snarling wolf’s larger form was a detriment to him in the small room, so I used it to my advantage. How could I get the dolls to catch fire?
He slowed while rounding a corner and plowed into the wall, knocking dolls to the floor and breaking several shelves. Jumping onto the counter, I grabbed a few jars of the dead, embalmed creatures, frowning at the poor things whose lives had been stolen from them by a cruel witch. She had prematurely ended their lives with the purpose of using them to put evil out into the world. It was only fitting for their deaths to be used to thwart her current duplicitous plans. Pulling back my arm, I threw the jars against the walls.
Thinking that I had been throwing the jars at him, the werewolf snarled at me. His claws scratched against the wood as he climbed onto the central work table where they dug into its surface. During a slight pause in his attempt to reach me, I took advantage and grabbed blindly at jars. I flung them against the walls and heard the glass shattering. The contents of the jars dripped over the dolls in an unholy bath.
Sensing something, I risked a glance at the stairs. A dark cloud was billowing down them. In horror, I watched its descent and felt it chill my blood. Even the werewolf felt it, and it stole his attention away from me. The massive supernatural beast whined.
“That’s what we’re fighting! Don’t you understand? She’s become pure evil! She’s given herself over to it! Help me!” I flung more jars at the wall of dolls.
Suddenly, the black mass vanished. It was like it had never been. The werewolf and I both looked around for it. Then, the eyes of the antique dolls clicked open, and they turned their heads to look at us. The werewolf’s hackles rose as it backed away from them, eased off of the work table, and stood with his back turned to me. In the stillness, I could hear our heavy breathing and the drops of liquid that dripped to the floor. One of the dolls laughed. Chill bumps raised so high on my skin that I thought they might break free of me and run screaming from the house. The light above us popped and went out, throwing the basement into complete darkness. With Elizabeth’s eyes, I could see in the dark, and I almost wished I couldn’t because the dolls were getting to their feet and laughing.
“This is the dark one’s doing. You saw him. I know you did. Please, help me. Help us all.”
The werewolf matched my hysterical tone with his own fearful whine. For all his strength and power, what could he do against dark magic? What could either of us do?
The dolls, smiles frozen on their dirty faces, were climbing down from the shelves which remained attached to the walls. The ones that had been knocked to the floor were taking small, stilted steps in our direction. I lit a match and tossed it, but the wood from which it had been made was too light for it to go very far, and it went out.
“Please! Shift and help me. Together, we can fight this! We have to destroy them, or they will be used to bring more monsters like the Chenoo down upon us!” Lighting more matches, I was preparing to throw them when a doll started climbing the counter beside me.
Shifting back into his human form, the werewolf kicked it like a soccer ball into the wall. “Climb onto my back. I’ll get you over there. You throw the matches,” he said in a deep, frightened voice. Holding onto his shoulders, I wrapped my legs ar
ound his waist. A laughing doll grabbed his bare leg. “Aww!” he yelled while shaking it off.
“Did it hurt you? Can they hurt us?” Panic threatened to consume me as I lit and threw a match. Catching, flames licked up the wall. Embalming fluid was flammable after all.
“Fear and pain. Its touch….”
“Go!” I urged. When a doll jumped onto my back, I understood what he had meant. Terror smothered me. Fire and smoke burned my skin and suffocated my lungs. We were dying!
“Snap out of it!” he yelled while giving me a shake. “Throw the fucking matches!” He yanked the doll from my back and hurled it into a wall. It laughed.
With shaking hands, I followed orders while he hurried to the stairs. Dolls laughed together as they piled on top of each other to block our exit. Yanking up the sewing machine, he threw it so hard into the shelves of jars and herbs that it stuck in the wall with loud crashes of glass and broken wood shelving falling against the counter and floor. The fumes were burning my eyes and nose. Plowing through the dolls like a raging bull, he ran up the stairs and into the pantry with me still clinging to his back. I lit more matches and tossed them behind us at the smiling dolls who were crawling up the stairs.
Black smoke rolled up the stairs. The fire had caught and had begun to burn madly. Tears streamed down my face from my burning eyes. I tried to breathe against the back of his neck. Even with the enhanced vision of werewolves, it was becoming impossible to see. He ran through the house with me clinging to him, as if by memory or the scent of fresh air pulling him forward, and plowed through Sophia and Cecil like a linebacker to escape the flames.
Cecil jumped from his path, but having been so intent on their battle, Sophia hadn’t been so lucky. The fall was too much for the elderly witch. An explosion rocked her house, and as black plumes of smoke rose up, a black mass exited Sophia’s mouth. Cecil chanted with strong conviction and placed himself in front of us, preventing the evil entity from attacking us. Thwarted by the powerful medicine man in its attempts to possess either of us, it angled up and sped toward another target. A large black bird gave a loud caw and flapped its wings as it became the dark one’s host.
Wendigo Conjuring Page 4
