by Limelan Z
Or perhaps it was more awkward because he knew more about me than I did.
I mused on it as I showered. I couldn’t decide whether or not I had a reason to fight him and the rest of the wolves. They had treated me well considering I had injured them. And I had wanted for so long to be truly part of a family, part of a pack. But at the same time, I was scared of them. Or perhaps I was scared of what they made me. As a human, I was a pacifist, quiet, plodding, keeping myself to myself. As a wolf, I was vicious. I was mated to an alpha. I had a dark history, a terrifying reputation.
I clicked out of the shower and moved over to the bedroom, closing the door. I was beginning to think that the only reason I felt so uncomfortable was because I didn’t know anything about them. I didn’t know about the wolves or the people. It had taken me a long time to learn how to survive. How had they managed it? And so publicly? How was someone as old as Wolfe able to hide in such plain sight? Especially with the surname.
My laptop was lying on the bed where I had left it. I quickly turned it on, pulling on fresh underwear as I waited for it to load. I tossed the towel onto the bed and knelt on the floor to type in “Zosimos Wolfe”. The usual business news articles came up first. That was no good for me. I wanted to know about his private life not his work. Who was he telling people he was?
‘You may ask me anything you like.’
I jumped, twisted and fell back at the sound of his voice from the doorframe. I hadn’t noticed it open. I sprang up and slammed the laptop shut, grabbing the damp towel and draping it back around me.
‘Get out!’ My voice was high. I was embarrassed and struggling to keep myself covered. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ I shouted when he made no move to leave.
‘You have questions about me. Ask me. You will not find anything online.’
My cheeks were flaming hotly. ‘Go away! I’m not dressed!’
He finally seemed to grasp my gist but simply frowned. ‘You are embarrassed because you are not dressed?’
‘Clearly!’
He shook his head a little as if he was disappointed. ‘Such a human reaction. You have no reason to hide your body. You are very attractive.’ My stomach gave an inappropriate somersault at the compliment. It must have been obvious to him; he lifted his head with a pleased and slightly intrigued expression. I scowled. Why wasn’t he just leaving? I was telling him to leave. What more could I do other than physically push him out?
‘Leave!’ Gripping the towel in one hand, I flicked my other towards the door and made shooing movements as I stepped forwards. He did not shift position so I was forced to stop before hitting him. ‘Why won’t you just go?’
He tilted his head to one side and began examining my face. ‘Because before I thought you had questions for me and because now I am enjoying your reaction to my presence.’ There was a smirk on his face. ‘I excite you, Ariane.’
I was not in the mood to play. ‘That’s not my name.’
He was still a moment, his eyes dropping to my mouth. I shivered unaccountably. ‘I think you are right. It is Ceri that I excite.’ Somehow that made it worse. Perhaps he sensed that I was about to hit him, so he chose that moment to leave.
I closed the door and shook myself. Why was I reacting to him? Was this all because of the wolf in me? Because we were mated? Or was it simply that an attractive man giving me compliments made me weak-kneed?
‘I like your flat. Your scent is everywhere.’
I scowled at him as I made my way into the kitchen some time later, fully-dressed. I wanted some of the lasagne. Wolfe did too so I made up two plates and sat opposite him around the counter. We began to eat in silence. I was happy with that. I needed to get my thoughts in order. So much had happened in the space of days. I was beginning to think it was a good thing we were alone. Maybe I could get him to talk about the Intervention.
I glanced up at him. He seemed deep in thought, then suddenly looked up. ‘I promise you I will find a way to let your wolf run again.’ It seemed important to him.
‘Why is Ariane so violent?’ I had asked Vince the same question but now I wanted Wolfe to answer. Unlike the others I had met, he wasn’t scared of my wolf. The question seemed to confuse him.
‘She isn’t violent. She is responding to the treatment she has received.’
‘You mean the Intervention,’ I said. ‘From the sounds of it, it was because she was so violent that they needed to lock her up. I would have killed her myself to stop her from killing, and I’m a pacifist!’ He looked as though I had said something abhorrent but was trying to control his reaction.
‘She is you. You were wild without a pack, but not violent. You set your own territory. It was the mistake of others to cross you.’ I held his eye. He seemed to see something noble in the beast inside me. He seemed to think that what I had done was fair, natural. I hoped he was right.
I set down my fork. ‘Will I ever be able to control Ariane?’
‘Control?’
‘I black out,’ I explained. ‘She takes over and I remember nothing. If she manages to take over permanently, what happens to me? What happens if I become stuck in wolf-form again?’
He was silent for a long time. ‘Ceri, you are Ariane. You and your wolf are the same. No one became great by giving up one part of themself. Ariane knows that. This is why she has been struggling to keep you alive. You must fight for her also.’
Chapter 8
For some reason, I hadn’t been able to sleep properly in my bed. I’d hoped the familiar squeaking frame and hard mattress would have left me well-rested, but it hadn’t. I had stared for hours at the ceiling, Wolfe’s words running through my head.
Ariane was a part of me, not some sort of parasite who took control of my body from time to time. She was me. We shared a soul. Which meant that we were both basically good. At least, that was what Wolfe believed. And perhaps he was right. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I wanted to believe that Ariane wasn’t the Hyde to my Jekyll but just another part of me. My animus.
I waited until about 5am before deciding there was no point pretending to sleep any longer. I tiptoed into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Wolfe appeared behind me as I reached up to get a mug from one of the cupboards, so I took out a second.
‘Armande is in London,’ he said, putting together the coffee as if he already knew where everything was. I guessed he could smell where the grains were. I let him go through the cupboards and dug into the biscuit tin. In my opinion, a warm drink is incomplete without something sweet to dunk in it. Luckily, Fi was the same so the flat was never without cakes, biscuits and a dedicated drawer of confectionary.
‘Who’s Armande?’
‘He is a particularly skilled witch in reversals.’
I bit into a bourbon biscuit and frowned, watching carefully as the coffee was poured. ‘I thought witches are women and men are wizards?’
Wolfe seemed to be getting better at taking my lack of knowledge as something other than a personal slight. He shook his head with a frown. ‘Witches are highly respected and often powerful, regardless of their gender. Wizards are something else entirely. It would be considered an insult among the witches to be called a wizard.’
‘What do wizards do?’
‘Very little.’ Okay… I offered him a biscuit from the tin. He stared at the contents a while before settling on a jammy dodger. I commended his choice and took one to match. ‘They have some magical power but lack the discipline of the witches’ circle. They limit themselves to party tricks.’
I leaned against the counter and gave a nod as if it now made perfect sense to me. ‘So, why does it matter that Armande is in London?’
A flicker of a smile appeared across Wolfe’s lips. ‘He will unbind you.’
‘Unbind?’
‘It is his speciality. You will be whole again.’
I straightened and frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ Either I was being particularly dumb or Wolfe was being cryptic. It sounded like—
I set my mug down. ‘Are you mad? That’s insane!’ He wanted to reverse the Intervention? That meant Ariane would be in control. Complete control. And regardless of whether or not I wanted to believe she was good, she was mad! Not only that but, if she took over, what would happen to me? ‘If you do that, Ariane will start attacking again. You want to set her loose in London?’
He dismissed my concern. ‘You are both older now.’
‘Exactly – she’s got years of unleashed aggression fighting to come out! And she’ll be pissed at me!’ Why would a violence-loving werewolf respect their pacifist human?
‘You will work together.’
My eyes widened. Was he insane? ‘You think I’ll be able to control her?’ Ridiculous! Even in her current state, she was still able to take over. At full throttle, who knew what she could do!
Wolfe ignored my question, took another biscuit and moved into the living room to sit down with his coffee. Was that it? Conversation done? I’d made my point and he his, so there was nothing more to be said on the subject?
I scowled. My “mate” was not a charmer. I guessed looking like that, he didn’t have to be. I watched him turn on the TV and flick to the news. Ass… After a moment or two, I went to join him on the sofa.
‘I really don’t think this is a good idea,’ I told him even though he was taking no notice.
I mean, I got it. If the old magick was breaking down anyway, perhaps it did make sense to get someone to take it down and do a rebuild. Check the structural integrity of whatever spell was stopping me from killing everything. Like getting your car serviced and passing your MOT.
Still roadworthy? Tick.
Still the right side of rampage? Tick.
It made a kind of sense. As long as this Armande guy was could do it in a safe way. Which presumably he could otherwise there might be a dead witch and a psychotic werewolf to deal with.
We sat watching a piece about a recent economic forum and sipped our coffee in silence. It was all Greek to me but Wolfe seemed to be paying attention. When it had finished, I let out a short breath. ‘Okay, I’ll do it. Would Armande “unbind” me here?’
He shook his head, eyes still on the screen. Weather forecast. Mild. ‘It is better that we go back to my home.’
I glanced at the wall-to-wall furnishings. ‘Less stuff to break?’ Maybe it made more sense. After all, I was hoping to get the full deposit back whenever I moved out. I also had no idea what excuse I’d use for any mess.
‘We will be less likely to cause a disturbance. Magic can be loud.’
‘What kind of loud?’ Dancing teapots and candlesticks loud? Or screaming in agony loud? He said nothing. Presumably, it was going to hurt. ‘Great...’ I muttered under my breath.
He glanced at me and then turned his attention back to the TV. ‘You have adapted to this age well.’ Another compliment? ‘How?’
I cocked a brow. ‘I’m more intrigued as to how you’ve managed it. For all intents and purposes, I’m human. The only thing I have to cover up is that I don’t age. Your eyes change colour when you’re angry and you sprout a fluffy tail!’
He scrunched up his face in distaste. ‘Sprout a fluffy tail,’ he repeated.
‘You know what I mean.’ He let out a little grunt and drew from his mug. I took it to mean he wasn’t going to answer my question. ‘So, how does this whole being supernatural thing work?’ He stared at me blankly. ‘Like what else is there? Werewolves, witches... Presumably there are vampires?’
He gave a nod. ‘Yes, but not everything you see on television shows is correct.’ He indicated a boxset of Buffy the Vampire Slayer sandwiched between Only Fools and Horses and The Wire. ‘The old stories – the folklore, the legends – they are the most accurate.’
‘What’s not real?’
He lifted his head thoughtfully. ‘Ghosts.’
‘Really? They’re far more realistic than werewolves!’ He didn’t seem impressed by my assessment. ‘They have to be real!’
‘Why?’
‘Because—’ I struggled to think of an explicit reason, but in my head it made perfect sense that if werewolves and vampires were real, so were ghosts.
‘Have you ever seen a ghost?’
‘Well, I thought I had,’ I said defensively. For a long time I had wondered if I was a ghost, albeit a more tangible one, since I couldn’t age or die. I had been fascinated by the Victorian spectre movement and snuck into the back of theatres to watch people called first hand. I had followed people around haunted houses and woods and factories and... Yes, I had thought I had seen things.
‘You are mistaken.’
I let out a breath and grabbed a hobnob to dip in my caffeine. We watched the news in silence for a while before I found myself scowling again. ‘But how do you know what exists and what doesn’t? Maybe you’ve never seen a ghost. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist.’
‘They do not exist.’ I scowled and opened my mouth to speak but he continued. ‘The exhaustive list of what you call the supernatural is vast, I grant you. But I have been alive a long time and there is little I have missed.’ His arrogance immediately sparked further irritation. I forced it back.
‘Most people think werewolves aren’t real, maybe most werewolves think ghosts aren’t.’ I didn’t know why I was being persistent – I didn’t really care whether ghosts existed or not.
‘Most humans are stupid,’ he said, turning his full attention on me. ‘They are ruled by fear. It makes them so desperate to believe anything that gives them more control. Werewolves, vampires, witches cannot exist to them, because how could humans possibly survive in a world with creatures stronger than themselves?’ He scoffed and turned back to the TV. ‘Of course, ghosts must be real because they can be exorcised by...well, humans.’
I rubbed my brow irritably. He had made his point and, annoying though it was, it seemed valid. Maybe the reason I had gone so long believing werewolves didn’t exist was simply because, if they did, then why weren’t they running the show? Why wasn’t the Prime Minister a vampire or the Royal family lupine? Maybe I was happier thinking none of it was real. I glanced in Wolfe’s direction. I had definitely been happier before I’d met him.
He stood abruptly. ‘Come, let us return to meet Armande.’
Chapter 9
Armande turned out to be a Spanish lothario in his mid-twenties. I had wondered if he only looked that way and actually had hundreds of years of witching experience, but no – he was actually twenty-six and apparently some kind of wiccan genius. His clothes were skin-tight and colourful. Everything about him was flamboyant and decidedly not what I had pictured a witch to look like.
He sashayed over to me, arms outstretched, and kissed me three times. Then did the same to Wolfe, who stood like a stone during the encounter with a frown on his face.
Armande tapped him on his nose when he straightened. ‘You can smile, you know,’ he said in a thick accent. ‘A bite from me is not gonna kill you.’
I instantly liked him. And not just because he didn’t cow down to Wolfe like most people did. He was just too pleasant to dislike. He took my hands and pulled me into the centre of the now empty cell I had been sleeping in at Wolfe’s. Then he wiggled my hands, my arms, my hips like a salsa instructor once had. He stopped and pressed a finger to his lips.
‘You know, I see you have some fire in you. Let’s see if we can bring her out!’ He clapped his hands theatrically and then turned to Wolfe. ‘You can leave now. I will take care of her.’ He was shooing him? I glanced, intrigued for Wolfe’s reaction.
Unsurprisingly, he refused. ‘I will stay,’ he said commandingly.
‘No, no – the magic is not good for you. You are too close here. You can wait outside.’ Wolfe scowled. ‘I will call you when the transformation is complete.’
‘No need,’ I told him, ‘there are cameras in here.’
‘Cameras?’ Armande turned to me with a cheeky g
lint in his eye. ‘Well, well. Zee, you naughty puppy.’ I couldn’t help but be amused at that – doubly so when I saw Wolfe’s irritated reaction. Eventually, he left me alone with Armande.
I straightened and dropped my arms. ‘So, how does this work?’
‘Darling, it’s very simple,’ he said, taking a step back so that there were a couple of yards between us. ‘We start by you following my breathing. We will breathe slowly at first. In and out, in and out.’ I mirrored him, moving my arms as instructed.
‘And the magic part?’
‘It’s very simple. First of all, we will work on your senses. I will unbind them and you will be able to hear and smell and taste and so on.’ I could already hear and smell and taste, but I said nothing. I presumed he meant better. ‘And then gradually we will release the rest of your bindings.’
My brow lifted. If it was gradual, then maybe I could get him to stop before Ariane took control of me.
‘Don’t be nervous. I am a genius. Now, breathe...’
After a few minutes of deep breathing, I realised I wasn’t feeling anything other than light-headed. I glanced over at the door and wondered if Wolfe was watching. How long was this going to take?
‘Pay attention!’ Armande snapped, clapping his hands together.
I whipped my head round and a moment later a piercing noise shot through my head. It was excruciating. I let out a cry and tripped onto the floor. The noise was persistent, loud, throbbing through my skull. I pressed my hands to cover my ears and squeezed my eyes shut.
‘It h-h-urts!’ I shouted out. My head felt like it was about to explode. It was piercing. For seemingly ever, I lay huddled on the floor, unable to do anything but try to block out the crashing noise.
And then it disappeared. Just as fast as it had come. The noise stopped. My head was still throbbing but the noise was gone. I struggled to catch my breath and peel open my eyes. My hand felt wet. I looked down and saw blood on them. My ears were bleeding? My nose too.
I looked around, feeling disoriented. Wolfe in wolf form was stood over me, watching me carefully. He must have forced his way in. He lowered his muzzle and licked my cheek until I pushed him away. Armande was looking at me with a frown. It wasn’t until he opened his mouth and started speaking that I realised I couldn’t hear anything.
