Riley's Curse, A Moon's Glow Prequel (10 page)

I took her in my arms, and rubbed her back
while she sobbed on my shoulder. I breathed in her scent, brown
sugar and pine nuts. “I know, and she’s right. It’s hard to
understand, but it happened, and we just have to live with it.”

“Why can’t you come home? If you are better
now, why stay here?”

I sighed heavily. “I still don’t trust myself
to be around you all the time. A visit is fine, but I’ve only been
this way for seven months. I won’t put you and Mary at risk." I
paused as she looked up at me. Her bright blue eyes were full of
sadness. "Besides, I will no longer age. How would we explain that?
If they found out what I am, they would try to kill me.”

She was suddenly frightened; she clung to me
as if an angry mob were standing in front of the house watching us
right now.

“You must always keep my secret, or I won’t
be able to stay in contact with the family. Do you promise?”

She nodded, her head bobbed against my
shoulder. “I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Her
voice was muffled as she spoke into the fabric of my coat.

I pulled away and took something out of my
pocket. “Here, when you miss me, touch this and know that I am
thinking of you. And if you ever need me, I’ll be there.” I opened
my hand and dropped a necklace that I found in a catalogue into her
open palm. On the chain was a half moon pendant. She looked up at
me and smiled. “Thank you,” she said, pulling it over her head.

I pulled out a matching one from of the same
pocket. "Come on, let's give Mary hers."

She smiled and followed me inside.

A few hours later they left for home. The
loneliness their absence left, wrapped tightly around me,
smothering me.

I tore off into the woods, changing quickly.
As a wolf I didn’t miss them as much. I flew through the forest
enjoying the wind whipping through my fur. I caught a scent to my
left, it was a deer. Excited by the thrill of the hunt, I turned
toward the smell, and adrenaline coursed through my limbs.

Thirty years later

I killed again. I’ve resisted the urge for so
long, I was sure I had conquered the cravings. But I was so busy
yesterday with meetings, I didn’t eat properly and I forgot what
day it was. How could I be so neglectful? After being so careful
for the last thirty years, I cannot believe I made such a terrible
mistake. I have to find a way to make up for my sins, or I'm not
sure I can live with myself. The guilt I felt after the first time
was a weight on my shoulders that never truly went away, and now,
after so long, I've added to it.

I lay in my bed staring up at the ceiling.
The white paint was cracking along the corners. I heard a pigeon
calling from outside my window and the sun shone bright in the sky,
spilling though my curtains, but I didn’t want to get up. I
intended to stay in my house and hide, to punish myself for what I
did. I hid my face under my pillow, the scent of laundry soap was
overpowering. I sometimes forgot about my heightened sense of
smell.

The sound of a motor outside my house alerted
me. I still wasn’t used to the new method of transportation; I
preferred my horse and buggy.

Jumping up quickly, I looked in the mirror
above the bureau to make sure there was no blood on my face or
body. My sand colored hair was messy, but besides that all was
well.
I must
have cleaned up when I arrived home.
I dressed quickly and then went out to see who it
was.

I peered out of the small window, and saw a
man climbing out of a blue motor car. He was a stranger to me. He
looked to be a few years older, twenty two maybe. He had black,
slicked back hair, and deep brown eyes. His sharp jaw line led up
to a strange oval scar right below his left ear. He was shorter
than my six one and dressed in brown trousers and a black bomber
jacket. He leaned against the autocar and stared at my house,
waiting. All of this registered quickly with my sharp eyesight as I
assessed him, but there was something about him that bothered
me.

I opened the door and stepped out. “Can I
help you?” I asked, walking out onto the porch.

He smiled, or rather sneered. “Are you
Nathaniel Riley?”

“Yes, who’s asking?”

“
My name is Rowan. And I'm here to tell you
that you are not the only one in this area. I just moved into town,
and I’m in no hurry to leave. So if you have a problem with
that,
you
can leave.”
His tone was light but his words were nothing but. He was giving me
a warning, I just didn't understand why.

My brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t
understand,” I said, leaning against the railing. The wind changed
direction blowing his scent my way, and as soon as I caught it, I
understood.

He glared at me, his eyes turning yellow. He
was like me, a werewolf.

I nodded. “You don’t have to worry. I like to
keep to myself, and I change as little as possible.”

He laughed darkly. “Oh I’m not worried.” He
folded his arms in front of him.

“How did you know where I lived?”

“I watched you kill that homeless man last
night.”

I panicked. “I don’t know what you’re talking
about.” I stammered lifting my hands from the railing, and taking a
step back.

He laughed again. “I won’t tell anyone. I
killed someone myself, after I followed you here. You know, you
really should have caught my scent. Real werewolves don’t get
caught off guard.”

Did he think he was insulting
me, by saying I wasn't a real werewolf
? I only wished it were true. “I was upset. I
didn’t mean to kill that poor man.”

His arrogant smile faded. “Why not, didn’t he
taste good?”

I was disgusted at the callus way he spoke of
killing a human being. “It’s wrong to take a life,” I said
guiltily, hanging my head in shame.

He laughed heartily, and then took in my
serious expression. “You’re not joking?” he asked.

“Of course not, I try not to kill. I’ve only
killed two people in the thirty years since I changed.” I stepped
back to the railing.

He chuckled. “I guess I really don’t have to
worry about you. I thought you might be a problem. It’s not usually
a good idea for more than one werewolf to live in an area. It might
draw attention if too many people start getting killed. But I guess
I’m the only real werewolf here.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” I
repeated.

He climbed into his vehicle. “See you around,
Pup,” he yelled pulling away from my house. I had a bad feeling
about him. I would have to be careful with him around.

I had lived in this town for two years. My
father asked me to move here. He had just opened a general store
and wanted me to run it. The manager was a family member and knew
my secret, but my father said he needed me to oversee everything
since I had been in the business for over thirty years. He often
found this funny considering I still looked eighteen. When I opened
stores for him I always had to take on meaningless jobs as a cover.
But we usually had a relative to run it so I could show them the
ropes behind closed doors.

My father had opened about ten Riley stores
and his fortune was growing. They still lived in Creekford. My
sister Rose was running the store there, and the ones closest. She
was married and had three children. Mary was also married but
stayed home with her family; her husband was the accountant for all
of the stores. My father kept him very busy even though we were his
only clients.

My uncles and their sons ran the rest of the
stores throughout the country. It was my job to open the new ones
and train them. Once they were able to handle the business on their
own I would move on. My father created the position for me since I
could only stay in one place a few years at a time.

My father put in every contract that only
close relations could run the stores and they all had to keep my
secret or they would be sued or fired. Most were told they would be
taken out of my father's will if anyone found out what I was.

I got along with everyone I worked with so
there was never a problem.

My younger brother William was running one of
the stores two towns away from where I was now. I would be moving
on soon so I enjoyed spending time with him for as long as I could.
I was eighteen years older than him, but he looked more like my
father than my little brother.

After my visit with Rowan I watched the
newspaper. There were no new deaths since the night I had killed. I
did find the victim's name though, it was Tom Fielding. He had lost
his job at the shipping yard, and had a drinking problem. His wife
had kicked him out, and he had been living on the streets. His name
haunted me for weeks. I could no longer handle the guilt so I
decided to look for his wife.

I found her in one of the poorer
neighborhoods in the city. I stopped the horses outside a small
house, and stared at the woman coming out of the front door. From
my research this was the address of Mrs. Fielding. The house was
poorly tended and in desperate need of a paint job. One of the
second story windows was cracked; a piece of wood was fastened onto
the frame to keep the whole window from breaking. The houses on
either side were just as bad if not worse. One of the houses had
garbage out on the stoop with a cat ripping into it looking for
food. The smells in the neighborhood were so vile, that I regretted
my heightened sense of smell.

A little girl ran out and gave the woman
who must be Mrs. Fielding, a big hug then ran back into the house,
the door shut behind her with a loud
bang
.

I nudged the horses to move out onto the
street, I had seen enough. I found out that she had two other
children besides the little girl and she worked two jobs just to
put food on the table. I needed to help this woman; maybe then her
husband's face would no longer haunt my dreams. I just wasn’t sure
how to accomplish that yet.

I continued to watch the paper for any
unusual deaths, and it wasn't until a few weeks after Rowan
appeared that I finally found something. It was an article about
the rise of animal attacks. I knew he was behind them. My stomach
turned as I read the story that confirmed four new deaths in town.
The police didn’t know how to handle it. They were searching for
the animal, but of course they would never find it, since the real
animal was human. I needed to find a way to stop him, because I
knew the police couldn’t.

The next night I decided to track him. I
wandered through many different neighborhoods sniffing the air for
his scent. It had been hours and still nothing. I had scoured
almost all of the districts with no luck.

Just as I was about to give up, I caught a
whiff of his familiar scent. He was in an alleyway behind a tavern,
and what I found shocked me.

Rowan had a woman up against a wall leaning
over her, whispering in her ear. She was whimpering and begging for
him to stop. All of the scents of the alley assaulted me, garbage,
urine, even the girl's fear. There was movement under a pile of
rags near the door of a building, and I heard the rustling of rats
and other small creatures.

“Is there a problem here?” I asked, making my
way towards them. The girl, I could see now, appeared to be about
sixteen, her blond hair was dirty, and she was wearing ripped
clothing. I guessed that she was a runway.

She stared at me in relief. “Please help me.
He’s going to hurt me.”

Rowan glowered at me. “Go away,” he said, not
concerned at all that I was there.

“Let her go, Rowan,” I commanded, thankfully
my voice sounded stronger than I felt.

He pushed himself off the wall and focused on
me, his almost black eyes turned yellow with contempt. The girl saw
the change in his eye color and let out a gasp. Her face was full
of fear, as she glanced from him to me. Since he had stepped away
from her she was able to slip away, running around a dumpster, then
out onto the street.

Rowan watched her go with a shrug, and then
turned to me, hatred clouding his face. “Who do you think you are?
You are no match for me.”

“You need to stop killing people. You are
starting to attract attention to yourself.”

“Nobody tells me what to do,” he said, slowly
stalking me.

“If you continue to kill recklessly, I will
stop you.” My fists were clenched at my sides and I was prepared to
fight.

The sound of a motor chugged by on the road
next to us. “That’s a joke right? I’m older, and stronger than you.
What are you going to do about it?” He leaned against the dumpster
with his arms folded in front of him. Not a care in the world. I
was just a small nuisance to him, not truly a threat. And I admit
his casualness intimidated me.

“I’ll find a way.” My voice was not as strong
as I wanted, but I got my point across. I turned my back on him,
half expecting him to pounce, but nothing happened. As I turned the
corner onto the street, I heard him laugh softly. Apparently, I
wasn't as threatening as I had hoped. As I walked back to my horse
and buggy, I knew he was right. I didn't have a violent bone in my
human body, and I didn’t know how to stop him.

The next day I had an idea of how I would
help Tom Fielding’s wife. I asked the manager at the store to call
her and offer her a job. It appeared that she had experience and
was given a position that would help her move to a better
neighborhood. I know it could never change what I did to her
ex-husband, but helping her in this small way eased my guilt a
bit.

I spent the day with my cousin Daniel,
discussing an idea I had after my visit to Tom Fielding's old
neighborhood. Even though I had helped his wife, I still wanted to
help others and I believed I had just the thing to do that. I
wanted to open a house, where people of need could go for help. We
didn't have the specifics yet, but I knew I was on the right
path.