Deadly Rising

by Jeri Westerson

  “I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you here with all this—ow!”

  “Sorry about that,” said Doc in his soothing doctor voice. “These need stiches. They’re pretty deep. A tetanus shot too. Maybe rabies. Now the tetanus I can give you, but I haven’t got the rabies shots.”

  “We don’t know what bit him,” I reminded. “Maybe those shots would cause a worse reaction.”

  “I think I know.” As usual, Erasmus had been so quiet we forgot about his presence. His hand darted out and captured my wrist, dragging me toward Jeff. He grabbed the amulet and, for a moment, I thought he was trying to take it back. Instead, he shoved it toward Jeff, who shied back with a gruff snarl.

  Erasmus released it and me, and I hauled off and smacked him on the shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “The amulet is silver.” He hid his hand, but I could see the burn mark on his palm where he’d grabbed it. “Did you see your friend’s reaction?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re not serious?” asked Doc. His mouth hung open slightly. A roll of gauze bandage hung loose from his hands.

  “Of course I am serious. Your friend has an aversion to silver. And a wolf bit him.”

  In the long pause I got the feeling Erasmus was waiting for me. When I still looked as if I was in the dark—and I was—Doc filled in the blanks.

  “Werewolf,” he whispered.

  “No. That’s ridiculous.” I turned to Erasmus to confirm, but the demon was stone faced. “This is impossible. I mean, sure, creatures and all, but…a werewolf?”

  Jeff began to shake. “I don’t feel good.” He doubled over, moaning. The moaning turned into a whine and the whine morphed into a howl. Dirty blond hair sprouted up from the backs of his hands like some crazy fast-growing Chia Pet. Then his teeth! Oh man! His teeth!

  “No!” I cried. “This cannot be happening. Jeff, you stop that right now!”

  He turned yellow eyes to me. His ears had elongated to points, and though his teeth had sharpened and there was extra hair on his arms and the backs of his clawed hands, nothing more had changed.

  “Kylie.” His voice was gruff, a strange combination of a baritone and a growl. “What’s happening to me?”

  “Oh shit.” I couldn’t believe it. I mean, I believed a lot of things now—demons, gods, weird Netherworld creatures—but werewolves? I shook my head, willing it all to stop. But there it was in front of my eyes. “Oh, Jeff. I’m so, so sorry.”

  He stared at his hands and whined like a dog.

  “Now, Mr. Chase,” said Doc, taking what looked more like paws than hands in his. “You’re here with us. The best possible people to help you. So, first things first. You need to calm down.”

  “Calm down?” he growled.

  “Jeff,” I interjected. “Doc is right. You’ve got to calm down. We’ll…we’ll fix this. We promise. Just calm down, relax.”

  Jeff held tight to Doc as if he were a lifeline, but he locked gazes with me. I breathed for him, taking a deep breath and then letting it out slowly. He followed. The calmer he became, the more his, well, symptoms calmed. His ears shrank, his claws receded, the extra hair sloughed off, cascading around him like autumn leaves. Lastly, his teeth and eyes returned to normal.

  “His wounds,” said Doc. “They’ve healed up.”

  “Oh my God,” he breathed. “Kylie, please don’t say it.”

  I laid my hand on his now normal hand, still bloody and dirty from his fight. “I don’t think I really have to, do I?”

  Erasmus stepped forward, subtle as always. “He’s obviously been bitten by a werewolf, which means he is now a werewolf and a danger to everyone. It might be better if we just kill him now.”

  “Erasmus! No killing. Move back, you’re getting him nervous again. And when he gets nervous…” I could see that he was morphing again. The eyes and ears were changing. “Breathe, Jeff. Relax. There won’t be any killing.” His ears receded but not all the way, and his ordinarily blue eyes were caught halfway between blue and yellow, a sickly green with a white outline around the irises.

  Jeff glanced desperately between me and Doc. “So…so you can cure me, right? You and your Wiccans?”

  Doc sighed. “I don’t honestly know, son. We’ll have to research it. But in the meantime, it might help matters if you stay with me. I can at least help you control it.”

  “Why can’t I stay here?” There was that dog’s whine to his voice, completely unnerving.

  “Because as good-hearted as Kylie is—and I sense that she would offer it—she’s got enough on her plate. And I’m in a unique position to be able to help you. I have quite a library on lycanthropy.”

  Jeff lowered his head, scraping back the gauze on his arm, which was now unnecessary. “This is a nightmare. I’m gonna wake up, aren’t I? I wish I’d never come.”

  Hugging myself, I thought the same thing. I didn’t hate Jeff, not anymore, but I was upset with him, as anyone would be. And I certainly wouldn’t have wished this on him. But Doc was right. I didn’t need one more complication on my doorstep. If Doc was willing to take him, then it would be for the best.

  After all, I now had a werewolf to kill.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We bundled Jeff into Doc’s car. I hugged him, told him it would be all right. But when I did the same for Doc, I whispered to him, “Will you be safe?”

  He patted my hand and got in the car. “Don’t worry.”

  I watched them drive away with Jeff’s haunted face staring at me through the car window. Doc said he’d tell the others. God knew what they were going to do about it.

  I gathered my discarded crossbow and dragged myself back inside.

  Erasmus stood before the fire, though he didn’t need to warm himself. “I’m sorry this happened.” He shifted, staring into the fire. I felt he meant it. “I tried to find the creature…”

  “I know you did. It’s not your fault.”

  “Nor yours.”

  “He followed me to Maine. I told him it was over between us. I tried to convince him to leave.”

  “Men seem to find it difficult to forget you.”

  I caught his eye before he turned away.

  “It’s late. Get some sleep, Kylie. We’ll talk in the morning. There is much to discuss.”

  Trudging up the stairs, I didn’t argue. I didn’t think I’d sleep, but I did, almost instantly. My dreams were filled with wolf packs running through the wood and arrows flying from a crossbow, chasing them into the night.

  I walked through my morning as if in a trance. My mind was on Jeff, my grandfather’s house, and Erasmus. Then there were Hansen Mills and the Ordo. Grandpa had mentioned them by name. That was exceptionally bad news. And it looked like the Ordo wasn’t messing around anymore. They were goofs to be sure, but they had beaten up Jeff, kidnapped him. That was an escalation. Well, attacking my shop had been an escalation. And I really couldn’t tell Ed about any of it. How could I without spilling the beans about the rest of it?

  Ley lines. What did those mean? And there was also that vortex in the caves at Falcon’s Point, and that voice that had possessed Jolene, if only briefly. And that pentagram at the church.

  Whoever said that country life was dull didn’t know Moody Bog.

  It was eight o’clock before Erasmus made an appearance. He had probably been there all along but invisible. Last night he had said there was much to discuss, but he didn’t say anything as he stood there. Just drank the coffee I offered him and became a silent, comforting presence, which I welcomed.

  And then I remembered his hand. The amulet had somehow burned him. I darted forward and grabbed his wrist. He glared at me as I turned over his hand. There wasn’t a trace of a burn on it.

  “This was burned yesterday. You burned it when you touched the amulet.”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you mean ‘yes’? This is your amulet. I took it o
ff of your neck.”

  “And now you are bearing it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Silver…is anathema to demons.”

  “So why on earth would you wear a silver necklace?”

  “Because I was created with it. Once it left me…it became something…other.”

  “So if I give it back to you, will it still burn you?”

  “Likely not.”

  “Likely?”

  “I don’t know. No one has ever…” He fell silent, brooding.

  I could get nothing more out of him. I decided to call Doc. “How is he?”

  “As well as can be expected.” He sighed. “I’m going to need the coven’s help. Nick is up on his creature lore and Jolene, well. She’s wicked good at filling in the blanks. But it’s Seraphina I’ll be needing the most. I’m pretty sure we’re going to need a potion for this and she’s the best where that’s concerned. She has that gentle touch.”

  “So there is a cure?”

  “No, Kylie. Unless Nick or Jolene can scare up something else, all the research I’ve ever done has said there is no cure. But there can be control with the right kind of potion. He’ll have to be trained to live with it, I’m afraid.”

  I felt sick as I sat on the nearest surface—the cobbler’s bench in the corner. “That’s really horrible,” I gasped. Tears stung at my eyes and I wiped at them.

  “It is. But I suspect your Jeff is strong and can endure it. Many have before him. What you’ve got to worry about is the other werewolf out there.”

  “But wait a minute. Isn’t that a person? I mean, all the other things were creatures. I don’t mean to be ‘creaturist’ about it, but I don’t exactly feel comfortable killing something…human.”

  “I’m just speculating here, and perhaps Mr. Dark can confirm this, but the werewolf from the book is likely the first werewolf, and if that is the case, it’s been a werewolf for far longer than it’s been a man at this point. He may not even be able to shift back into human form anymore.”

  “But we don’t know that.”

  “No, we don’t. I’ll be meeting with the coven as soon as possible. Jolene has to go to school, of course, and I don’t want Nick to lose his job. Seraphina and I will be putting our heads together before the others can join us.”

  “Do you need me for anything?”

  “Like I said, you’ve got enough on your plate. And this is a Wicca matter in any case.”

  “And…are you all right?”

  “I’ve spent part of the time teaching him some meditation techniques. I daresay he knew quite a bit already, he just needed reminding.”

  “Jeff was big into yoga.”

  “And all that will help him. When Seraphina comes, I’ll get a little shut-eye.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”

  “Good heavens no. To be honest, I think he might get too excitable when you’re around.”

  Great. Just great.

  “If you need anything, Doc…”

  “You just run your shop, little lady. And…get that werewolf. Jeff will rest easier when it’s gone.”

  I hung up and found myself staring at Erasmus. He barely moved. The coffee mug in his hand sent up tendrils of steam. How about that? He was his own Thermos.

  For some reason, of all the things crowding for dominance, that pentagram at the church was looming large in my mind. Maybe because I didn’t want to be blindsided by one more unknown. Maybe it was because focusing on it meant I didn’t have to think about creatures or an ex-boyfriend who had turned into a werewolf.

  Yeah, that was another one of those sentences I never expected to say.

  Maybe I could make myself useful, get over to the church and talk to Reverend Howard. And then still have time to get over to Grandpa’s and look around before I opened my doors at…well, realistically ten at this point. I’d never run a successful business this way. But really, I was beginning to wonder if there was any point to it anymore.

  We drank our coffee, Erasmus and I, both stealing the occasional glance at each other.

  “What did you want to talk with me about?”

  He set the mug down and adjusted his coat. “It doesn’t matter. We have other things to concentrate on.”

  “A kelpie and a werewolf.”

  “Yes. And whatever comes next.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “The kelpie I understand. The werewolf…I don’t. Doc said it’s the first werewolf, the first person to change. Is it even a person anymore? Please say no.”

  He smiled grimly. “Not a person you would recognize as human. The first werewolf was the imagination of an angry god. This werewolf is ancient.”

  “Erasmus, when I shoot these things, are they dead?”

  “Not as you understand death. They are returned from whence they came.”

  “And where is that exactly?”

  “It’s very difficult to explain.”

  I waved him off. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. As long as they aren’t here anymore and can’t do anyone any harm, that’s good enough for me.”

  We said nothing more. I sighed, looking at my empty coffee cup. I had to get started. “Listen, I have to go over to the church for something…”

  “Beelze’s tail, whatever for? There is so much else for you to do.”

  “But I have to do this. I saw a pentagram over there. I want to find out more about it and alert the pastor.”

  He frowned.

  “And then I’m going to Grandpa’s to see if there isn’t a journal there.”

  “I can accompany you. But not to the…the church.”

  “Oh ho! Hallowed ground, eh? I’ll have to remember that.”

  His disgusted look could wither a mighty oak.

  As I grabbed my coat and keys, the Booke was suddenly sitting there before the front door.

  “What do you want?”

  I bent to reach for it and it trembled. Snatching my hands back, I straightened. “Erasmus, what is it doing?”

  “You are neglecting your duties. It is agitated.”

  “Well, tell it to take a chill pill. I’m busy.”

  “Kylie, the book must be appeased. The kelpie—”

  “Is still out there. I know. I really, really do. But these other things must be taken care of too, and I am only one Chosen Host. So the both of you…relax!”

  The Booke suddenly stopped its shuddering.

  “Oh. Okay then.” I picked it up and was a little surprised that it let me carry it to the kitchen and deposit it on the table. “Now you behave yourself. I’ll get back to kelpie and werewolf hunting soon. As soon as I can. Coming, Erasmus?” I called over my shoulder.

  “Why must you treat me like a footman?”

  “Well, you do hover like one.”

  We got into the Jeep and took Lyndon Road down to the white steeple I could see spearing above houses and shops. I rounded the village green and pulled into the church parking lot. Was eight o’clock too early for a visit? I hoped not. But even now I couldn’t get that image of Jeff shifting into an animal out of my mind. Was it a death sentence? Would he, too, change permanently and have to be hunted down? I didn’t want to ask Erasmus. I’d wait to see what Nick and Jolene had to say. I trusted their judgment.

  The plain white sign in front of the church read, “First Congregational Church of Moody Bog. Rev. Howard Cleveland, Pastor.” in gold letters.

  There were a few buildings around the back of the church. The church hall, where I saw the pentagram, and another one that looked like a cottage, which I assumed was Reverend Howard’s place.

  In the far reaches of the green, I saw the janitor trudging his way across, dragging bulging trash bags behind him. I parked, got out, and trotted toward him, sans Erasmus. “Excuse me!”

  He kept trudging, oblivious to the crazy woman shouting and running after him.

  “Excuse me!” If I only knew his n
ame, I wouldn’t have looked so insane.

  Finally, he noticed me and stopped, squinting with a doglike head tilt. “Ay-yuh?”

  Out of breath (I really needed to work out more), I tried a smile. “Hi. Do you remember me? From last week at the Chamber of Commerce social?”

  He looked at me blankly, which was probably just as well. I put out my hand to shake, friendly-like. “I’m Kylie Strange. I own that herb and tea shop near the highway. And you are?”

  He stared at my outstretched hand with a measure of skepticism, but never returned the gesture. He sported a full head of white hair, with some of it tufting out of his ears. His nose was round and veined with burst capillaries, and his mouth hung open from hard breathing. He said nothing at first, then licked his lips and muttered, “Mister Parker,” as if that was all anyone ever knew about him…which might have been the case. He was, no doubt, one of those indispensable characters no one actually knew well, but who was always working thanklessly in the background.

  “Mr. Parker, it’s nice to meet you. I wonder if I might pop into the hall for just a quick minute. I don’t mean to interrupt your work…”

  “Why’d you want to go in there for?”

  His Maine accent was thick, the kind one might use for a Maine tourism ad.

  “I just need to check on something. I, uh, wanted to give the church something for being kind and hosting the Chamber gatherings, and I, uh, need to check on sizes and stuff.” That was vague enough. Lame but vague. But now I’d have to follow through. I wondered if the church needed an additional samovar.

  Mr. Parker didn’t look any less skeptical. “I don’t think I can let you in.”

  “Oh, it would just be for a minute. Half a minute. Just a poke-my-head-in-the-door kind of thing.”

  Now he narrowed his eyes. Had he cottoned on to me? After all, if he were a secret Wiccan of the black sort, he wouldn’t want me digging around. If he were of the light sort, I figured he’d already be pals with Doc and Company.

  “Just a small peek,” I said desperately, edging back toward the church hall.