The Legend of the Werewolf (14 page)

She swallowed and shook her head.
“No.”

“
And, if either of you think for
a second that I'll let him inherit any of this unless he gets
married, you're out of your mind, Princess."

God she wished he’d stop calling
her that. It was like he was so sure she
wouldn’t
get out of the marriage that there
was no point in not calling her that.

Westley did say this would happen, didn’t
he? It shouldn't be a shock, but she had hoped so much that he was
wrong. That his own father would know when to relent. "I'm getting
out of this marriage so you don't need to call me that
anymore."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Princesses
tend to get what they want, regardless of who it hurts. I don't see
why the name should change."

She cringed away from him. In her
weakness, her straight posture turned into a slouching show of
defense. "You’re only punishing him. He doesn't love me,
Gordon."

"You're his best friend. Why wouldn't
it eventually turn into love?"

"You know why."

With her head down, she saw his
nails extending themselves before she heard the growl. Looking up,
she caught a flash of gold in his eyes as he struggled to hold in
his temper and the wolf that wanted to burst free. "It's
not
true."

She opened her mouth to argue but his eyes
left hers, looking just beyond her head, he stormed off.

Anne watched him stomp his feet back to
his own house before she turned. Westley stood there, arms folded
and face sad. "I told you he wouldn't let me get away with
it."

She rushed to hug him but only made it
halfway before a shadow knocked her twenty feet in the
air.

Her body spun like a top before she
crashed to the hard ground with a thud. She was pretty sure screams
followed but couldn't be sure as everything flashed white then went
black.

***

Mike watched her from the corner of his
eye as he attempted to discourage one of the men from taking
pictures. He tried dipping into her head when Gordon
circled.

Being a werewolf made it difficult. The
fact that her emotions were in chaos eased the way.

They were talking about him. Figured. Then
he caught a flash of Westley. Mike put together the rest on his
own.

Ah, the wedding. Gordon figured out Anne's
plan and he was fuming. Westley had been right when he said his
father wouldn't allow him to not get married.

Did it have anything to do with
Westley’s sexuality? If it did then Mike would lose what little
respect he had for Gordon. Forcing your kid to marry a woman
because he was gay was a lame-ass attempt at control.

Anne rushed to embrace her friend. Mike
saw the shadow before it hit her.

"Anne!"

She was already in the sky. The force of
her spinning caused her arms and legs to thrust outward. His breath
caught in his throat as her body fell like a limp rag, head first
towards an old ford truck. Mike’s lungs seized up as her body
evened out so that she landed on her back, missing the hood of the
truck by inches and hitting the grass.

Mike regained control, shoved pastssed the
stunned pack of wolves and launched himself towards her like a
rocket, sliding to his knees before her body, praying she
lived.

Westley met him there but he couldn't
pay any attention to him or the screams of the people behind him as
they were attacked.

His heart stopped and exploded when
Westley grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her into his
arms.

Mike lost it. "You idiot! She could
have a neck injury!"

"She's fine. We have to get her inside
right now."

That was right, a werewolf would be able
to sense an injury like that a lot better than any paramedic.
Still, it didn't stop him from being angry about it. "Fine, give
her to me."

He knew he only managed to take her
because he'd shocked the other man with his disregard. Otherwise,
it was likely Westley wouldn't have released his pack mate so
easily.

Once
Mike had her, he was finally able
assess the situation. Several men had already thrown their clothes
off in the midst of a change. An attempt to defend their territory.
Their wives took their children indoors where it would be safe with
the lights.

Hadrian was behind this. Mike growled
and looked up into the stars but the Warlock wasn’t
there.

Goddamn cowardly bastard. The man had
the cojones of a friggin’ mouse.

I
t was Mike’s fault. He should've expected
this when Chris flew in with his wings nearly cut off. But, no.
When all those people showed up, he let his guard down, expecting
there would be safety in numbers.

Any injury these people sustained would
be on his head.

The men who stopped to fight were getting
their asses kicked. One wolf attacked in a flying leap, claws out
and jaws open, but he jumped right through the shadow thing he was
trying to fight against.

Another wolf was dragged around by the
tail, his efforts to twist and bite his attacker as useless as
Mike's efforts had been that night in the bar. Aside from the way
they moved and attacked, they were like real shadows, invincible to
everything but the light.

Westley growled and moved to help his pack
mates but Mike snatched his arm before he could leave. "Wait!
Something's wrong."

Why weren't they coming for him and
Westley?

He turned and ended up looking right
into a pair of high beams from a truck. He blinked and turned away.
Whoever owned this truck accidentally left the lights on in their
excitement to see Mike.

Mike tuned out the snarls of the one sided
fight and look around the area of the ranch he was on. There were
some lights on poles above him, but they served to make the shadows
longer and deeper. There were plenty of cars and trucks that had
not been so neatly parked outside of Gordon's house. "We need to
turn all these lights on."

Westley spun around and immediately
understood. "I'll get the keys." He threw off his clothes and leapt
forward, his arms becoming long, thin and fury as paws replaced his
feet and hands.

He was completely changed before he hit
the ground and took off running, grabbing up any pair of jeans
strewn about on the ground with his jaws as he ducked, weaved, and
leapt out of the way of any attack.

Mike refused to hold still. Even if
Westley had no trouble retrieving the keys from every pair of
pockets there was, he wouldn't know whose trucks belonged to who.
Those things were here for him and, even if they weren't, it was
his responsibility to make sure that no one was hurt.

The ironic thing was that Anne couldn't
have landed in a safer place. He laid her back down as gently as
possible, removing his shirt and folding it up to act as a
pillow.

"Don't move," he said before taking
off.

The second his body left the safety of the
truck lights, the shadows stopped, turned their heads, and flew at
him. He did a duck and roll to avoid the first onslaught and all
but danced out of the way of the rest who dove for him.

"Get your keys! Turn on your
lights!"

To his horror, no one picked up on his
plan as quickly as Westley had. Another wolf tried leaping at one
of the advancing shadows but only passed through it again. The
people in the nearby cabins watched from the safety of the windows
where the lights were on.

Westley had someone's pants in his
mouth as he ran to one of the trucks, turned back into a man, and
got inside.

Mike needed everyone to understand what he
was saying. Heto show the rest of the pack what he was talking
about so he backed up towards the front of that truck. "The lights
hurt them! They can't get pastsed the lights! Turn on your
cars!"

The shadows, no longer flying through the
air like angry spirits, approached him on two legs, crouched and
readied themselvesy to spring like grim reapers. Behind him, he
heard the truck cough and sputter, but it didn't turn
on.

"Any time now!" He yelled behind
him.

Westley glared through the windshield
and turned the key again but still nothing.

Mike was backed into the hood of the
car, the shadows surrounded him until he was encased within them
and could see nothing but darkness. A dome of pitch black. He
wasn’t dead.

He tried to take in a calming breathe.
With a start, he realized that he couldn't. Like a fist clutching
his insides, his lungs couldn’t move. He couldn't
breathe!

He pounded against the dark wall but it
was like banging his fists against steel. They had him
trapped!

Hadrian's face flashed before his eyes.
Mike flung his fist out but punched the steel wall. He bit his
lips, hard enough to spurt blood in his mouth, fighting hard to
keep from screaming out the last of his air. But the punching act
alone used enough air to make his lungs constrict and burn
helplessly.

Mike glared at the image and felt like
he was glaring at a TV screen. The coward couldn't face him in
person. Hadrian's thin lips turned up in a malicious sneer as he
shook his head, as though admonishing a naughty child. "This could
have been so much easier."

Mike wanted to tell him where to go but
couldn't. Heat flared under his skin and cotton filled his mouth.
His lungs pulsed as the instinctive urge for air took over. He was
going to die because the stupid truck behind him
stalled.

His ears started to ring and his face
swelled as his mind began to wander.

He was in the woods again, the
same clearing as in the first vision with the same beautiful woman.
Mike came in for a closer look. Her hair was lighter and glowed
like the moon in the sky.

She kind of looked like
Anne.

"Should he find us together he
will certainly kill us," his double said.

A small chuckle, like the
flapping of birds wings sounded.
"Nay, he would only kill
you.
‘
Tis
impossible for a mere man to end my life."

He touched a lock of her
hair. "Imp, even if that man is a powerful wizard? Do ye not fear
his magic could harm you?"

She leaned into his touch
and kissed the palm of his hand. Though his double’s hand was large
enough that she could fit the entire side of her face in it, Mike
knew who was the most powerful between them.

His double seemed to force
his next words to come to him. "How can ye choose me? I am but a
serf with nothing to offer. He is a powerful lord. He can give you
everything."

She shined her pale blue
eyes at him. "A Goddess needs nothing. His trinkets and tricks
neither impress nor entertain me. And you have something he does
not."

His eyes flew wide. "What
is it?"

She touched his chest with
a delicate finger. "A good heart ... as well as mine."

An explosion of light surrounded him,
freeing him, pulling him from the vision.

With long shrieks, the shadows melted off
of him. Mike felt as though he'd just come up from water to take
his first breath, like he’d just been born all over
again.

He fell to his knees in the dirt.
Coughing and inhaling through his mouth and nose. His face, hands,
and feet felt swollen as he inhaled dust, but it was still oxygen
and it tasted great.

Westley's voice echoed in his ears and
a hand pat him on the back, proof that he stood close even though
he sounded far away. "Are you alright?"

Mike waved a limp hand and wiped the
wetness from his cheeks. "Fine, I'm great." God, his voice sounded
like it’d had a fight with a sand blaster.

He tried getting up but the earth
swirled. He grabbed the front of the truck for support and forced
his legs to work for him. "Turn on your lights!" He yelled again,
or tried to yell as his voice hardly raised an octave. "They can't
stand the light."

Several women who witnessed the
shadow’s retreat finally took the hint. They rushed out of the
cabins and dropped to the ground, picking through their husbands
pockets until they came up with key rings.

They ran to their vehicles with their wolf
partners behind them for protection. First they would chase away
the shadows, then hide out in their cabins until the sun came
up.

A sharp hand slapped his back. Mike
looked up and saw Westley's grinning face, the crescent on his
cheek almost looked bright with the intensity of his smile. "Sorry
it took so long."

Mike was relieved to see that he had
bothered to put on the jeans he'd stolen as a wolf. Though, they
were so big on him, he had to hold them up with one
hand.

He grinned back, somehow it was almost
funny now that he knew everything was going to be alright. "No
problem. I'll get the keys next time."

A soft groan caught his ears, even from
the distance. Mike shot his head up and saw Anne, right where he
left her under the lights of the other truck some fifty feet away.
She lifted her hand to her head, shifted, and sat up.