Erin Dameron-Hill (23 page)

“I’m fine.”

He wasn’t. His power wasn’t oozing through the line as it normally did, no, instead, he felt frozen with fear. His presence over the phone was icy, standoffish, and frightened. I had never felt that before from him and needless to say, it was a bit disconcerting. Matt is never afraid.

“Matt? Something’s wrong, I can feel it.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Sophie. I promise. And how would you know if something is wrong anyway, you can’t feel me through the phone.”

“But I can, Matt. You’re scared, why?”

He muttered softly to himself even though he was rigid, “You shouldn’t be able to feel anything, I can’t feel anything.”

“What do you mean? I’ve always felt your power through the phone.”

“Sophie, normal werewolves only feel supernatural power via touch, smell, not through electronics. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Well, what does that mean?”

“It means you are Anput,” said the deep, gruffy voice that I had heard so many times before in my dreams. It was Anubis. And he was with my family.

Chapter Twenty Two

“You!” I yelled into the phone nearly forgetting my fear and relishing in the anger and rage that was coursing through my body. Anubis had taken so much from me; my freedom, my humanity, my friends, and now he had my family and he would most likely take them away too. So, I was furious.

“Who else were you expecting?” he replied softly, “the Hunter?”

My breath caught for a few moments, fear tickling my lungs, “How do you know about him?”

“I know everything about you, Anput.”

“How many times do I have to say this, my name is not Anput!”

“But it is,” he said, his power rolling through the phone, crashing into me as swatter squashes a fly. He was strong, old, and fierce. I could feel his hatred like a red hot poker stinging me through the phone, biting at my heart. If he felt this dominant over a phone, then I could bet he was even more intimidating up close and personal.

“I don’t relish these gadgets of yours, so I think it’s time we met in person,” he said, his voice rumbling through the speaker like an earthquake shaking a crumbling mountain.

“I don’t think we should. I didn’t enjoy our first visit.”

He laughed. His laugh was worse than his power; it was raw and filled with malice, he truly hated me. But why? He was my maker, he should want me, after all, he created me. Instead, his power wanted me in pain, wanted me to do his bidding, wanted me to kneel in front of him, and wanted me to spread my legs.

“I like it rough,” he said nonchalantly, “just as you do.” He somewhat cackled then and I could hear him licking his lips, “You know where to find me, I’ll see you there. And if I don’t, then you can say goodbye to this so-called family and continue to be an orphan, alone and unwanted.”

The phone clicked on the other end and I didn’t know whether to be scared or really pissed off. I was frightened for my family and frightened for the Hunter, but I was more angry that anyone could be that mean, that malicious. Anubis was a cruel monster, manipulative and, well, I guess evil. I’ve never used that word to describe anyone before, but he was evil. Who takes friends hostage just so they can see you in the flesh? What kind of monster does that? Where is the logic? If Anubis wants me to worship him, then why make me hate him? It doesn’t make sense.

And I truly wish I knew who Anput was. He keeps referring me to that name, he has called me Anput since my very first dream. The name sounds Egyptian, so he must have dubbed me that when he first made me. But no, that can’t be right either, because he said in an earlier dream that I had
always
been Anput. If he’s confusing me with someone else, then…well, I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t think I can be any more angry than I am now. He has killed my friends and my family, he has taken my happiness, he turned me into a monster, and now, he wants to take even more. So I don’t think it’s possible to be even more angry. No, I think I would explode if I had more rage.

And where the hell was I supposed to meet him? I don’t know what he means. I can’t read his mind, we’ve only met one time before and that was in my condo and I don’t think he meant there again. So I stood in the mud, in the dark, and looked into the very black forest that loomed behind Ms. Jean’s very yellow house. I had come here for a reason, instinct had drove me here, so maybe I should just feel my way to him. I didn’t want to ever see Anubis, nor even be within a thousand miles of the monster, but I couldn’t let my family die either.

And Anubis knew about the Hunter. All those moments I could feel eyes roaming over me, it was Anubis watching me the whole time, gathering information to use against me, finding weaknesses. He found several. He knew I would do anything for those I love and he took advantage of that. He took advantage of my love. He was the worst kind of evil, he doesn’t just take because he can, no he takes because it’s amusing.

I stepped lightly into the sloshing ground, feeling the mud linger on my naked toes and I thought about my own beast, my own monster. During the entire conversation my jackal never made a sound nor even a movement. Why? Even now I don’t feel my beast, it has gone dormant, silent. I can’t feel it inside that dark cave and I can’t see it.

I closed my eyes and took a deep inhale just as I had done earlier in the bathroom when I begged my beast to eat the calming potion. I flew through my body searching myself but nothing supernatural was there. I paced loudly towards the cave but it was empty, only the dark sky and the full moon was present, my wolf was gone. But where could it have gone to? This is the only place my beast lives inside me; it couldn’t have just vanished from me, it couldn’t have been taken from me as if it were just a piece of clothing. The beast was a part of me just as my heart is, just as my mind is. So, where did it go?

I turned on my heel and was about to start searching elsewhere in my body when I heard a slight whimper come from the island that my beast lived on. I looked back and saw the black form of my jackal tied and bound by a bright yellow light. I don’t know how I missed it before, but my beast was tied up tightly. It couldn’t move, it could barely breath. I ran across the dark lake toward the island splashing the still, black water in my wake, listening to the gulps in the water as I passed and saw my beast’s eyes grew larger as I approached. It was scared of me. For the first time ever, it was frightened of me. It was like a scared little puppy at the pound waiting for its final injection. I reached out toward my beast and it frantically tried to squirm away from me.

“Wait, it’s okay, I’m not here to hurt you,” I said softly.

The beast continued to pull away from me and fell over its bindings. It landed with a thud on the top of the smooth lake, its back touching the water and its legs soaring up into the sky.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

Still the beast kept rolling away from me, further and further across that great, dark lake. I followed steadily, confused and bewildered as to why my beast was tied up and why it was squirming away from me.

I saw a few falling stars in the black sky as my beast continued to roll away from me, roll towards the shore. It was leaving the island, crossing the lake just to get away from me. The further it moved from the island, the more the sky literally began to fall around me. In the distance of that lake, stars plopped into the water creating white light underneath my feet. The sky was fully black, only the full moon remained.

I continued to walk across the white water, towards my beast. It finally stopped squirming and instead panted so violently that its chest looked as if it was going to explode.

For the first time ever, I pet my beast. It shook at first, its muscles convulsed, and then it quieted. I continued to stroke its belly through the yellow, glowing bindings and its breathing became steady once more. My jackal’s fur was so soft and velvety, like it was made of cheesecake that I wanted to kiss it and lick it and make it mine. Instead, my hands reached for the bindings and a slight burn licked my palms. It wasn’t exactly pain, more like an annoying ache, so I continued to untie my beast. The bindings on its legs released and it jumped up to stand on all fours. There was only one area still tied and honestly, I wasn’t sure if I should remove them. Its muzzle was secured, making sure it never bared its teeth. But I pulled at the bindings anyway and fully released the beast.

It jumped up towards me, not attacking me, but licking me as a dog does. I smiled lightly as the beast ran back towards the island, as the stars then fell back into the sky, as the cave once more became peaceful and serene.

The beast stood on its island with its tongue lopping out and I think it was grinning. It wasn’t foreboding nor trying to be dominant, instead, it looked as if it would work with me, be one with me, finally help me instead of hinder me.

I still had the glowing bindings in my hands. They were gold and they slithered around me, as if they had a life of their own. They left my hands and evaporated into the air leaving no sign that they were ever here. What were they?

I opened my eyes and came back to the swamp, back to reality. I don’t know what the bindings were on my beast and right now, it didn’t matter. I could figure that out later. What I needed to do right now, was find my family, find Anubis. As much as I hated that prospect, I knew I had to face my creator. He had been calling me for awhile now and it was time. Anubis had made sure that I would be alone; he made sure no one could intervene. And if I didn’t make an appearance, he would kill more of my family, take more lives, and I would still have to face him.

As I walked through the dark swamp, sweaty and damp, I couldn’t help but wonder what Anubis had in store for me. Why was he that desperate to see me? Why? What did he want from me? I just didn’t know. I was walking towards him blinded and confused which is never a good idea when facing certain doom. I didn’t stand a chance. All I could hope for was that everything would work out. That maybe, just maybe, we could all make it out safely, that no one else would be hurt or killed, and that this could all end happily ever after.

But I doubt it.

Chapter
Twenty Three

I wandered aimlessly in the swamp just as I had wandered aimlessly in the desert so many times before in my dreams. I knew eventually I would reach Anubis because I had so many times before. Only this was real and not a dream. This time I wouldn’t be able to wake up when things became too dangerous, too scary. This time I would have to face my fears, this time I would have to face Anubis. Trust me, that prospect wasn’t making me very happy. I was scared out of my mind, angry that he had my family, terrified of what Anubis would do to me, and completely confused as to why.

Anubis had never said why he had created me nor what his reasons for creating me were. I guess he was saving those answers for our one on one interview. Which is another prospect I’m not rejoicing over.

My feet continued to slush through the damp ground and decaying logs as an owl hooted softly in the distance. On nights such as tonight, when the moon is full and the sky is bright, animals, bugs, and birds are so loud, so alive that the forest screams with life. But tonight, all I heard was the hooting of an owl. Even then the sound was distant, faint, miles away. So I knew I was getting close.

Sounds of life are always silent around danger, because life itself is afraid. It quiets down like a fawn and waits silently until the danger has passed.

A torch lit up in the distance, the orange fire burning bright in the darkened swamp. I moved some Spanish moss from in front of me to get a better look as several more torches were lit. It was just like my dream; a runway was being made for me, telling me where I should go. Except, I wasn’t about to walk down that path. If I was to stand my ground in full light and make my presence known, then I knew I couldn’t do a thing to help my family nor my lover. I needed to get my bearings, know my surroundings, make a plan. I shouldn’t walk in there half-cocked like a crazy person, I needed a solid plan of action. But how does one plan for something like this?

I crouched silently on my knees, trying to dodge the light and hide in the shadows while my eyes searched around me. I crawled past the lit torches making sure I couldn’t be seen and with all the swamp bog sticking to me, I was pretty sure I couldn’t be smelled either. There were two ways I could be found out: my scent and my appearance. The swamp reeked of rotting sulfur and decaying logs which would overpower normal scents. Being a wolf so many times before had actually taught me a lesson in camouflage, you have to be invisible to catch your prey.

So I was completely hidden as I crept along the side of the runway, my eyes searching around me. It was odd; I wasn’t scared yet or panicking like I should be. Instead, I was calm, cool, and patient, waiting to strike like a coiled rattlesnake, biding my time.

If Anubis wanted to see me, then it would be on my terms. He had controlled my life for too long already and I wasn’t going to let him anymore. He controlled me when I locked my doors, paranoid that he would strike again. He controlled me when I turned at the full moon, because normal humans don’t shape-shift. And finally, he controlled me when he killed my friends just for my attention. So no more. I wasn’t about to give him any more control than he already had over me.

I moved one more step closer, to what? I’m not sure, but I knew I had to follow the runway, that Anubis would be waiting at the end.

My eyes were blinded by the harsh torchlight in the dark swamp so I resorted to just smelling and feeling my way around. Unfortunately, I couldn’t call on my beast because it was still whining and curled up in a fetal position. I wonder if Anubis had done something, if he could control my beast. It would make sense if he could, after all, he created me, he should be able to control me. He had for so long, why would he not be able to control my beast?

“Anput,” I heard the sound rumble through the swamp and a few lagoon birds squawked loudly and fluttered away at the noise. Nature was not keen on being silent for too long.

My heart danced and jumped for the slightest of seconds as he called out that name. He couldn’t have spotted me; I was hidden, silent, like a predator. I had strength; I was the one in control.

“Anput,” he said again, this time more fervently and demanding then before, “I know you are here. I can feel you on the wind.”

He can feel me? Not good. My nerves started twitching and my breathing became faster. I was supposed to be in control, I was supposed to be hunting him, not the other way around. My hands clenched tighter at the loose ground underneath me trying desperately to find some sort of stability to mask the fear that was racing through my body. I didn’t want to face him, I couldn’t. I knew what he was capable of because I experienced it firsthand. I was in the hospital for more than a month and that’s with supernatural healing. He had broken 236 of my 245 bones. He had torn 87% of my ligaments and tendons. I had lost more than 3 pints of blood, which by any standards, would have left me for dead. And he did all of this to me slowly. The attack didn’t take a few minutes nor even a few seconds as most attacks last. No. Mine took an hour. He enjoyed my pain, my agony, my screams. He wallowed in my fear as a pig wallows in the mud, nastily and joyfully.

I was shaking, violently, because the mud puddles underneath me were bubbling as if something large and heavy were walking by. I couldn’t help myself, I was scared. More than scared. There are no words to describe a fear so intense that I was about to go into convulsions.

“I know you’re nearby; I can hear your heart beating, hear your blood flowing underneath your perfect skin. So, come on out. I’m waiting.”

Shit. How could I forget that I had super awesome hearing? Damn it, of course he would too. I was in over my head here. I was no match for him. Why was I even here? What possessed me to venture into the jaws of death?

“Not only am I waiting, but you’re little boyfriend is as well.”

The Hunter. I hadn’t exactly forgotten about him, but I was just too scared to move. I was paralyzed and crying. I was paralyzed with my nightmare come to life and crying uncontrollably for the Hunter, my friends, and my family. I have cried too much lately to even have tears, yet they came, in floods. I was silently sobbing, hoping and praying that my hiccups and breathing wouldn’t give me away, when a large, red paw came into my sight.

My breathing stopped. My heart stopped. I slowly looked up from the muddy ground and came face to face with the beast of Clyde. I knew that wolf anywhere. I had run beside him so many times before, hunted with him so many times before, and I had loved him. But his eyes were showing no semblance of recognition. Instead, he looked at me as if a Doberman had caught the burglar and that my time of hiding was up. His growl was deep and haunting as his mouth came closer to my head. I could smell the rancid decay of meat lingering on his breath, feel the specks of saliva on my face as he breathed intently at me. His nostrils flared and he began to pace around me. I kept on my hands and knees so I wouldn’t make any sudden movements and force the attack. Like I said before, predators are cursorial, they only attack when the prey moves. In fact, chasing prey aids in the digestion of food, jump starting stomach acid to do its thing.

But as the wolf of Clyde paced around me, I knew I had been right in one theory; the human part was being killed keeping alive only the beast. Clyde would never be Clyde again. He would remain a monster, a predator, a werewolf. He would never again enjoy the feel of silk nor satin, nor enjoy a hot, gourmet meal, nor the touch of a lover. He, instead, would relish in the hunt, death, and blood. And that is a fate worse than death. Because that is not living.

“Good boy, Clyde,” Anubis said in a very mocking manner, “Thank you for welcoming our guest. Such a good boy, yes it is.”

I wanted to puke. Clyde shouldn’t be treated as a dog, he was more than that. He had been a such a great man, loving, caring, kind, and above all, genuine. And now he was less than human, a mere animal to be coddled and praised. Hearing Anubis say those words to Clyde made me stand on my own two legs because he was treating me like an animal as well. And I was more than that. Just because I have a jackal living inside me that doesn’t mean I’m not human.

My eyes found Anubis through the hazy, torch-lit swamp. He was relaxing on a large gold throne with red velvet cushions. It was a bit odd to see such a tacky display in the middle of gooey swamp, but what did I expect from the God of Mummification?

“Why don’t you help escort our guest, Charlie?” Anubis demanded more than asked.

I looked around hastily and realized there were at least a hundred wolves hiding in the shadows just as I was doing. I hadn’t smelled them and neither had they smelled me. The swamp was doing an excellent job at hiding the predators from the prey.

Charlie stalked towards me from the darkness on my right, his light red fox body slithering next to me. Charlie was the only fox in our pack and we used to make fun of him for being so small and feral. And yet, now, I was scared of him. He was still quite tiny, but he looked rabid. Bits of drool lined his black lips and his sharp, white teeth were gleaming in the firelight.

I looked more around me, because apparently, hiding in the shadows, I had seen nothing. I scanned the wolves for signs of Billy, Matt, Sheila, Eric, Ernie and the Hunter. I didn’t see them anywhere nor could I smell them. Then again, there were no scents in the swamp other than muggy decay.

Clyde’s wolf pushed me forward, his nose digging into the back of my knees. I yelped quickly and as soon as I did, the other wolves took a step forward. They knew I was the meal for the evening, that I was the weakest link. Predators always attack the weak, it makes for easy pickings.

I tried to calm myself down by taking deep breaths, but that only aggravated my system. I could barely breathe through my fear, yet alone inhale properly.

The wolves stalked closer as my thumping heart rang out as if I was in a marching band, announcing my fear and my weakness.

“Come to me, Anput,” Anubis said again just as he had in my dream, “Come to me and they will stop. If you do not, well, what’s the term? I will ‘release the hounds’,” he sighed and then continued, “England used to be quite charming.”

I didn’t really care what England used to be like because there had to be at least a hundred wolves here, each of them eying me like a succulent steak. I couldn’t really blame them; I was scared, frightened, jittery, shaking; I smelled like food. Clyde and Charlie were the closest to me. They padded around me and occasionally thrust their muzzles into my legs as they stalked me on all fours. They kept rubbing up against me, forcing my fear to tell me to run. They wanted me to run. They wanted to hunt me. To tear me apart.

I stood there, frozen with fear, a few tears seeping down my burning cheeks. I didn’t want to die this way, I didn’t want my friends, my “family” to be the ones who killed me. So I did what I had to do, I walked toward Anubis.