The earlier threat of rain had built into a full-blown gale. Raindrops pounded down around us, and the wind almost turned the umbrella inside-out with its first gust. Why had I not called for the carriage? But we were out here now, and it was not far to Daniel’s house.
“Come on,” I said firmly to Alexandra, and we set off along the street.
But it was only a few minutes before my ears picked up another noise, something low and dangerous that lurked beneath and behind the sound of the rain. I paused.
“Did you hear that?” I asked Alexandra, keeping my voice quiet. She nodded. The expression on her face reflected my own uneasiness.
“Perhaps it’s nothing,” I said, but my feet seemed unwilling to continue onward. I listened harder. And there it was again, more distinct now I listened for it. A growl. It came from the thick, dark bushes that lined the street to my left. I looked at Alexandra and saw the terror building in her eyes as well.
“Back away quietly,” I whispered.
She followed my instructions as we moved step-by-step back towards the house, never looking away from those dark bushes. I saw nothing move, but I heard a soft rustle that kept pace with our own steady movement. If that was the wolf hidden in the foliage, it was following us. And was it my imagination, or was it picking up speed?
My nerves could take no more.
“Run!” I shouted at Alexandra. We turned and sprinted for the house, the umbrella flapping uselessly in my hand as my feet pounded on the slick paving stones. We stumbled up the steps, where my butler, his confusion politely masked, re-admitted us to the house. Gasping for breath, I collapsed onto the stairs.
Unfortunately, my team of witch-hunters chose that moment to spill out of the study and into the hallway. For a split second, my butler’s jaw dropped before he slid his expressionless façade back into place.
“What happened?” Theo asked, rushing to grab my hands. “We saw you through the window.”
“I swear I haven’t seen you run that fast since the time I asked you to marry me,” Marcus joked.
Everyone around me went silent. The butler slipped from the room. Theo’s shoulders froze for a second before he turned to look at Marcus.
“Could you explain yourself?” he asked, his words cold as ice.
I flinched. If only Marcus had not mentioned that one small detail of our past acquaintance. I was half-tempted to walk back outside and face the wolf.
A Weapon and a Plan
I barely survived the utter awkwardness of that night. Theo could hardly contradict my protestations that Marcus had never been a serious contender for my hand. He clearly still did not like seeing me in the same room as his childhood friend. Personally, I thought that a taste of his own medicine would do him no harm, but I was not tactless enough to say that. Particularly in the presence of Delilah.
At any rate, we found ourselves with other things to worry about. Many other things. I woke Deborah, and the two of us set about drying off Alexandra and tucking her into a warm bed for what was left of the night. Theo and Jules headed out to see if the wolf - if it was the wolf - had left any tracks. Marcus and Delilah headed home, although not before Marcus threw me an apologetic grimace over his shoulder.
I spent a few hours tossing and turning in my bed. I slept a little, but my dreams were uneasy, and my body was still too alert for full rest. When dawn broke, bringing a faint winter light along with it, I buried my head under the pillow, and let myself sleep for a few hours more.
The daylight hours dragged. Alexandra stayed in the guest room I had set aside for her, and asked for her meals to be brought up. I did not quite feel up to company - or explaining the events of the previous night - so I made no objection to the arrangement. I ate lunch alone, then dinner. To my irritation, throughout the day I caught myself waiting for news of a message, or glancing out of the window to see if anyone approached the house. I was waiting for Theo, and I hated myself for it.
After the unfortunate, indeed awkward, revelation of the night before, I could not quite bring myself to face the witch hunters. There would be no return to their den; at least, not today.
But I was not so foolish as to believe that the wolf cared for our petty squabbles. Whether or not I worked with the witch hunters, the wolf was still out there, lurking in the shadows.
Now, though, I had a plan. Well, I had a weapon, which was almost the same thing. I had seen for myself that my high-powered crossbow, with its silver-tipped and poison-dipped bolts, was effective against the wolf. Why not use it by myself? If Delilah, who collapsed at the first sight of danger, thought herself a wolf hunter, then why could I not hunt the beast myself?
So, a full day after my first attempt, I found myself once again standing at the railings that lined Hyde Park. This time, however, with no one to assist me, my scramble to the top of the fence was rather less than graceful. For the first time, it occurred to me to wonder whether wardens patrolled the park at night. It would be rather unfortunate for my reputation were I discovered here. Everyone would naturally assume that I was on an illicit assignation.
Well, I must simply make sure that no one caught me.
Unfortunately, that was far easier said than done. As I jumped down from the fence, my oversized coat snagged on the sharp-tipped railings - and stuck. My feet hit the ground, but I could go no further.
Swearing softly to myself, I reached up to unfasten my coat, but I could not work out where it was trapped. A black coat had seemed practical as a form of camouflage, but that very darkness was now proving extremely problematic.
I gave up and tried to wriggle out of the coat instead. But it had many buttons, and my fumbling fingers seemed unable to find them all.
Something rustled in the trees ahead of me. I froze, staring out into the darkness and willing the murky blackness to resolve into shapes. For a moment, I considered calling out, but decided against it. With any luck, I could remain undetected. I did not dare move, not even to continue wrestling for my freedom from this damned coat.
But then the noise came again, closer. This time, a low growl followed it. In the darkness ahead of me, I saw the wolf’s vivid yellow eyes flash for a second as they caught the shifting moonlight. It had found me.
No point trying to hide any longer. I fought to get free, thrashing at the stupid coat that bound my arms to the fence. At least one arm was still free, so I reached into my pocket and fumbled for the crossbow. I got it into my hand and clumsily released the trigger. But it was my left hand, and I was off balance, and the shot went wide. The wolf barely flinched as the bolt flew past. It kept on towards me, steadily, head down to face me, rippling growls flowing from its throat. I tried another shot, now that it was closer, but it shifted to the side like water. I missed.
Desperate now, I clutched the tiny crossbow and reached deep inside. Where was my magic when I finally needed it? Why would it not hide me? I fumbled for that elusive spark, wishing myself into nothingness, but it seemed that my powers had chosen this moment to desert me. Nothing was happening. And the wolf kept on moving.
It was almost on top of me now, so close that its breath warmed my hand. I shrank backwards against the railings, but there was nowhere for me to go. No way for me to escape. I stared into those huge, yellow eyes and prepared for a final fight.
“Stupid beast,” I hissed at it. “I’ve faced far worse than you.”
It lunged, and I fought down a scream as wet jaws clamped down on my wrist and the crossbow was yanked from my grasp. For a second, the wolf stood there, my crossbow dangling from its mouth, and then it turned and walked away. No run, this time, just a gentle trot. It clearly saw me as no threat. I stared after it, my blood rushing and my brain whirling.
What had just happened?
I resumed my fight for freedom. With the urgency gone, my hands seemed to regain their usual steadiness, and the last button of the coat easily slipped free. I wriggled out of the sleeves and, now in a much better position, lifted the torn coat from
the railing and pull it back on.
Why had the wolf let me go free? It had me at its mercy and turned away. It made no sense.
I climbed back over the fence. I’d made it a grand total of one foot across the park, in what might be either the least or the most successful wolf-hunting trip in known history. I’d found the wolf straight away, which should count for something. Or perhaps it had found me.
I trudged home, all my senses on full alert. I scanned each bush for rustles, listened for growls in every gust of wind. Nothing. If the beast had followed me, it was keeping its presence well hidden.
Based on this evening’s events, I could only assume I had been wrong. The wolf was not, after all, intent on claiming me as its prey. But, in some ways, that made the situation even more unsettling. Surely it was not a coincidence that the beast chose to come after me again and again? I thought of the first time I had seen it, as it stalked towards me across the ballroom floor, and I shivered.
No, this could not be coincidence.
But what else? Was this beast still close enough to human intelligence to have a clear motive? I wished I remembered more from the now-lost book.
If it was not trying to kill me, then an even more terrifying possibility drifted into my mind. Perhaps it was after someone else. Someone close to me. My mind ran through the names, each one sending me into a deeper terror. Daniel, Theo, Alexandra. Even Delilah. I hated the woman, but I would hardly stand aside and let a wolf drag her off.
This had felt like a matter of life and death when I feared myself the wolf’s target. But now, it was worse. I’d almost lost Daniel to this beast. I would not risk losing anyone else.
Family
I downed my first whiskey with a gasp, enjoying the harsh burn in my throat. At home, I drank smooth, expensive spirits, but I still secretly loved the rougher stuff. The whiskey at Gwyneth’s inn did not disappoint on that count.
Well, not quite Gwyneth’s inn. Having arrived here shortly after midnight, and spent the last hour acquainting myself with the place, I had learnt that the current manager was the near-silent old woman. And the owner was, of course, me. So I supposed it was my inn. Although, given I had not previously known of its existence, it was rather difficult to think of it as mine.
I would happily lay claim to the whiskey, though.
The second glass, I drank more slowly. I gazed down into its amber depths and contemplated the tangled web that this wolf had woven around me. I couldn’t understand its motives, and I certainly couldn’t understand why it let me live. But most of all, I couldn’t shake the terrible fear that all the people I loved would be hurt while I was left untouched.
“One more?” the old woman asked, appearing behind the bar. I wondered where Gwyneth was. Serving another customer, no doubt; this inn seemed to attract a steady stream of clientele no matter what the hour. I didn’t dare ask how many of them possessed… unusual powers. It seemed that London's occult underworld was a lively one.
“Yes, please,” I said to the old woman. Had she ever told me her name?
She took my glass away and returned with a fresh one, filled with a hefty measure of whiskey.
I knew that I should go home. Perhaps my staff had already realised my absence and begun to panic. Perhaps they were all out searching for me already. But I was not yet ready to return. I needed a little more time to think, to ponder, and, yes, to drink.
I sipped the third whiskey even more carefully.
It tasted a little different to the previous glasses. Softer, even sweeter. I rolled it on my tongue, absorbing the unusual flavour.
“What whiskey is this?” I asked.
Or at least, I tried to ask. The words did not come out right. My tongue felt floppy and useless, suddenly unable to form the sounds that should have been second nature. I blinked hard at the old woman and tried again. Nothing escaped my mouth but a confused gargle.
I was not this drunk.
My vision was blurry now, as dark spots crowded in from every direction. I shook my head to clear them, but all that did was send sparks flying across the bar. Were they real, or only in my head? I felt like I might be sick.
The wood of the bar was cool on my forehead. When had I lowered to touch it? My head throbbed and my throat burned. Had I collapsed on the bar?
“Lily? What’s happened? What have you done?”
The voice was familiar. Cool hands touched my face.
“Are you awake? Can you hear me?”
Gwyneth.
“I can hear you,” I mumbled. At least my voice seemed to be working now. In fact, it seemed as if my whole body was recovering. But something still felt wrong.
“What happened?” Gwyneth demanded again.
“A few herbs in her drink,” the old woman said. “It needed to be done.”
“You poisoned her?” Gwyneth asked, utter horror in her voice.
I managed to sit upright and stare at the old woman. Her shape wavered a little, but I could make her out.
“What have you done to me?” I asked, my voice weak and shaking.
“I’ve done what should have been done a long time ago,” she said flatly. “You’ve been fighting your magic, girl, and it will only do you harm. I’ve given you a little something to free those powers that you keep so buried.”
I stared at her in horror.
“No,” I managed to say. “No, you can’t do that to me.”
But now I could identify what felt different. What pulsed in my veins and hummed along the surface of my skin.
Since I returned from my visit to Yorkshire, I’d been able to sense the early stirrings of my magic. But they were nothing compared to the power that now hovered within me, its strength growing with every breath.
How had she done this to me? What had she put in that drink?
I turned my attention inward. I reached for those changes in my body, and I studied them as closely as I could. And my magic begin to respond. Once again, it came to my aid, protecting me. It pushed against whatever foreign forces were interfering with my body.
“Let me go,” I demanded. “My magic is none of your business. I want nothing to do with you. Whatever you’ve done, reverse it now.”
The old woman just glared at me, her eyes narrowed. I glared back and focused harder.
Where before my power had been tendrils brushing against the black spots of her magic, now it became great hammers, crushing every speck of her influence. I saw her flinch with each crash, and I intensified my efforts. Inexperienced and exhausted, I began to shake, but I saw with satisfaction that I was not alone in that. The harder I pushed, the harder she shook, and the deeper the lines on her face became.
“Stop!” Gwyneth called, but I ignored her. Just a little longer and I could win.
Gwyneth stepped in between the two of us and threw her arms wide. A wave of force hit me, accompanied by a flash of white light and a boom like compressed thunder. I fell straight off my chair, crashing backwards onto the floor.
As I peeled myself upright, I turned to glare at Gwyneth. She was facing me with her fists clenched and a mutinous expression on her face.
“What did you do?” I asked, shouting.
“I did what was necessary to end things before one of you died!” she shouted back. “That was a stupid and irresponsible thing to do. And that goes for both of you!”
She directed the last part of her tirade at the old woman, who had just staggered back to her feet on the other side of the bar.
“You had no right to do that to me,” I said, more quietly this time. The old woman just shook her head.
For a second, I dared hope that I had acted in time to erase her influence. But already, I knew the truth. Even a few days ago, my magic could not have defended me like that. Something within me had changed.
Victory or not, the action of fighting back had loosened my magic even further. It now swirled and lashed within me. What if it broke free? What if I lost control? And as I looked from the old woman to
Gwyneth, my hopes of sanctuary slipped away. If these people treated me like this, how could I trust them?
“All the rest of you out,” the old woman shouted abruptly.
The other patrons of the inn, who seemed to have ignored the lights and noise as if they were utterly normal (perhaps they were in an establishment of this nature), grumbled a little at this. But they emptied out with surprising speed. In just a moment, it was only the three of us left in the inn.
The old woman walked around the bar to face me with no obstacles between us.
“You need to know the truth,” she said. I said nothing in reply, but simply stood and waited for her to continue.
“This wolf is connected to you. That, you already knew. But you do not know how deep that connection goes.”
Hesitantly, I reached for a chair and sank down into it. The old woman’s eyes were now so dark that they absorbed the light around them like pools of total darkness. Somehow, I knew that she was telling the truth.
“Your mother had a half-brother,” the woman told me. “Illegitimate. Very few people ever knew about him. But we knew him, in this place. He was one of those who came to us for help, for a place to hide.”
“No,” I said, jumping to my feet. “My mother was an only child. I have no family. Do you not think I would know something like this?”
“He was not a child your family cared to accept,” the old woman said flatly. “You may never have heard of him, but that does not mean he never existed.”
I had no words. I stood mutely, knowing that she had more to say. Although I feared that I already knew just what that was.
“This brother had your mother’s gifts. Almost. His were strange, twisted. We all work with blood and bone, you know that. But he went too far and changed himself beyond all recognition.”
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