The Legend of the Werewolf (25 page)

Brock didn’t follow him. The wolf sat
on the porch, posture perfect and staring straight
ahead.

Perhaps it had something to do with the
fact that he was now essentially family, or the giant red wolf
sensed Anne and Bill needed more protection at this time. Whatever
it was, he didn’t move to stop Mike.

The answer hit him. Brock was letting
him leave.

Mike kept his eyes on the giant red
wolf. Could it be true?

As though sensing his dilemma, Brock
nodded his fury head and settled himself to lay in the
sun.

Stunned, Mike returned the gesture in
thanks. Brock must’ve heard Bill's confession. He was allowing Mike
the time he needed to get out.

All for the sake of the true first
werewolf.

He resumed his pace at a quicker
speed.

He hadn’t been brought into this pack by
choice, didn’t know the majority of the people in it and didn’t
like some of the one’s he did, but he had to keep them
safe.

Even if it wasn’t his job, even if Bill
hadn’t said what he’d said, Mike needed to go. He’d endangered
these people for too long already.

He’d endangered
Annie
for too
long.

Just thinking about what he’d seen in
Bill’s head made him shudder.

The man had just let him in. There was
no struggling to see or hear like with Annie or any other werewolf
on the ranch. He just saw.

The younger version of
Bill, or Edward, as he was really named, who looked so much like
Mike, looked up as a pillar of white encased the woman before
him.

She placed a small
something in Edward’s hands. Mike recognized the moon stone. "From
now on," she said, “I will not answer his calls, only
yours."

"I have no Magic to call ye
with."

"You need not have any."
She touched the rock in his bigger hands. "Whenever the moon is
full on earth, should you desire it, I will come."

She waited for his response,
eyes bright and eager.

“I shall always want
ye.”

Luna smiled and wiped her
eyes. She lifted herself on her bare toes and their mouths
met.

The silver white light pulled
her upwards, yet their kiss continued as her feet lifted from the
ground. Her arms remained around his neck and her lips connected to
his until the force pulling them apart allowed it no
longer.

She waved, tears in her
eyes, and he did the same as she disappeared into the
sky.

“Until the next moon,” he
whispered, clutching the stone, the sun rising behind
him.

He turned, ready to leave,
but did not take two steps when Hadrian entered the clearing with
several men-at-arms.

Edward froze as Lord Hadrian
stared down his nose at him from his place on a magnificent horse.
"Serf, if ye would kindly explain yerself," his men drew their
weapons, "we will not have to resort to barbaric measures. What was
your purpose here, alone, with my intended?"

Hadrian’s words became
louder, his eyes blazed brighter with every word.

Edward looked him in the eyes,
both fists clenched around the stone. "My lord, I have prepared
myself for this inevitability and can say, with no fear in me, that
as long as Luna is not present for you to set your anger upon, I do
not care what ye do with me."

Hadrian’s face twisted in a
sneer. "Indeed? I mean to make ye regret those words."

He snapped his fingers. Four
men carrying a cage with a snarling black beast inside entered the
clearing. It snapped at them through the irons and threw its body
against the bars. No man flinched as they held the handles of the
jostling prison.

They lowered the iron cage
to the ground and jumped away as the animal threw its body against
the bars again, nearly tipping the crate. It rattled as though it
would come apart but the trap held firm.

Foam spewed from its jaws
and its hair stood on end as it howled at its captors.

Edward stepped back. A
wolf. A mad one from the look of the creature.

Two men latched their hands
onto him like shackles whilst another attempted to take the stone.
Edward struggled and was punched in the gut for his
trouble.

He doubled over, losing his
hold over the stone as he coughed and wheezed for air.

He struggled and kicked as
the men pulled him towards the animal, but his strength was no
match for theirs. They forced him to his knees, inches from the
mouth of the beast within who shoved his foaming muzzle through the
bars, attempting to reach him.

Edward tensed, stock still
lest he move too close and the beast bite him.

Hadrian's lips turned up as
one of his men handed him the stone. He examined it critically
before tucking it out of Edward's sight. "Luna intends to answer
only your call? Then I intend to have you thirst for her blood
every full moon."

A dark light erupted from
Hadrian's hands, enveloping Edward and the wolf. The cage door was
opened and he screamed as he and the mad creature were pulled
together, becoming one.

The vision didn’t end there. Days, weeks,
months’ worth of events played in Mike’s head on fast-forward,
everything so clear.

Edward became Hadrian’s
prisoner and plaything. Always in chains. Forced to watch Hadrian
eat well while he remained shackled to a wall, starving.

Soldiers took their turns
beating him for pleasure. Laughing maniacally at his inability to
defend himself and pissing on him when he couldn’t summon the
strength to get back to his feet.

Mike needed no further proof to see
that Bill told the truth. But the images went on and on.

Edward awoke in chains one
morning, in pain from the transformation of crazed wolf to man, and
only able to look at Hadrian’s leather clad feet.

Hadrian stared that long
nose of his down at his prisoner, the stone in his hand, emitting
no glow at all. “Luna is dead.”

Edward’s eyes widened, his
broken mouth opened as he lifted his head. “Ye lie.”

Hadrian sneered. “I told ye
that ye would thirst for her blood. Now she is to belong to no
one.”

Edward did not move. Then, he
blinked rapidly and put his face into the filthy stone floor of his
prison. He fisted his grimy hands into his hair as he
wept.

Hadrian spat and turned his
back to leave.

As the door to be opened,
Edward roared, his fingers becoming claws as he snapped his chains
and lunged for Hadrian’s throat.

The first time he’d ever
managed some control over his curse.

So that was why Hadrian feared the
werewolves he created. Had one of his men not stepped in the way of
the attack, allowing himself to be ripped apart instead of his
lord, Hadrian would be dead.

Other soldiers came to pry the
half-wolf from their comrade. Though they brought the enraged beast
under control, they had been bitten and scratched in the
process.

The spreading of the
curse.

He watched Edward alone with
himself after being beaten and degraded by the guards; eyes closed,
concentrating. Perfect serenity on his bruised and swollen face.
Searching for control until finally he gained it. He transformed.
But not only that, he transported himself …

Zeke hailed him from another cabin
across the ranch.

The call pulled from the images still
in his brain.

He didn’t just get the story; he got the
movie of the first werewolf. It would stay with him for the rest of
his life.

Zeke ran to catch up with him, along
with a few other people Mike recognized from his wedding, Westley
being one of them. He kept his eyes straight ahead, not
acknowledging them even when they walked with him.

"There something we can help you with?"
Zeke asked, curiosity in his voice.

Likely wondering why he wasn’t with his
new wife.

"Nope." Mike kept walking. He jogged up
the porch steps with the air of a man frequently invited over. He
heard the murmurs behind him as most of the men stopped before
stepping a single toe on Gordon's stairs.

Westley followed. Zeke climbed half the
stairs before he lost his nerve and stood frozen.

Westley grabbed Mike by the arm and
gripped tight enough to halt him.

"Is Anne okay?"

Mike clenched his jaw, reached around
with his other hand, and forcefully removed Westley's hand. Only
then did he inhale and inspect the red mark left on his skin from
the wolf’s firm grip.

He looked at Westley, who had the
decency to look abashed. "Sorry. Keep forgetting you're
normal."

"Right."

"Seriously, though, she alright? Why are
you out here? Shouldn't you be—?”

"Enjoying my honeymoon?"

Westley's face colored. "I was going to
say 'with her'? Shouldn't you be discussing your marriage with
her?"

Westley kept his voice low so the other
wolves wouldn’t hear.

Mike kept his voice equally low, then
started walking again to keep the people behind them from getting
suspicious. "When did she tell you?"

"I was already in on it. Though,
the idea was that she become
engaged
to you, not outright marry you."

“
Things don’t usually work out
the way we plan,” Mike stated, and it was true. His plans had been
to visit and confront his family, not get sidetracked by a pack of
wolves, then fall—

He was so not going to finish that
thought.

Westley nodded, a faraway look in his
eyes. “That’s true.” There was a pause. “What are you doing
here?"

Mike stopped in front of the door, stared
down at the brass handle, then at Westley. "I'm going to admit to
you that I haven't really thought this out; whether or not I should
just sneak in and take them or knock on the door and lie through my
teeth."

"Take…what? What's wrong? What do you need
to take?"

"The keys to your father's
truck."

"What?"

"Look, I'm done dancing around this.
I'm not the first werewolf and I think you believe me when I say
that."

"I have been pretty skeptical," Westley
admitted.

And with good
reason
. "The
point is that there's no way I can prove that to the people here.
As long as they keep me here, you're all in danger. Werewolves or
not, you’re still civilians."

Westley stared hard into Mike's eyes,
as though searching for his sincerity. The link gave Mike a brief
glimpse into Westley's mind and he caught a vision of Fanny, mother
werewolves who had their toddlers playing at their feet, and then
their husbands.

Abruptly, he was pushed out of Westley’s
head.

"Agreed," Westley said, shoving him out of
the way and letting himself in. "So, you're leaving."

He held the door open for him, but it
took Mike a second to realize that he was being given a silent
invitation to enter. Being invited in by the prince of the pack
probably looked better than just letting himself in, legend or
not.

Finally, he snapped his head out of the
mud and took two steps indoors so Westley could close the door,
shutting the onlookers out. "Right. Figured if I get a head start
back to Griffon City then I should make it there before he can
catch up to me."

Westley walked casually through the
house as though he weren't planning on stealing from his father. He
stopped at the far wall at the end of the hall where a giant wooden
key with hooks holding other keys hung. "What's your plan
then?"

"I'm calling for backup the second I get
the chance. Then, I'm going to meet up with that medieval freak
with about a hundred cops behind me and we'll see who's got more
firepower," Mike growled, his fists clenching.

Westley faced him, the key's he'd
picked dangling between his fingers. "Will you kill
him?"

The question brought him back to earth.
"I'd rather see him in jail. I just want him to know what it's like
being hunted."

Westley grinned and jingled the keys.
"I'd like to see that. These are to my truck. It's in the
garage."

Walking casually through Gordon's home
uninvited put Mike on edge. "Where’s your father?" He asked, body
tense should the man choose to spring from a dark
corner.

"Still sulking. He went for a run after
the wedding ended. If you thought I'd break into his house when
he's in it, you're out of your mind."

Mike smiled. He knew which way to go to
get to the garage since it took up one whole side of the house.
"Speaking of him, what are you going to do about him? About the
whole forced marriage, I mean," he asked, cutting across the living
room and trying not admire the leather furnishings arranged in
front of a flat screen TV.

Westley heaved a sigh. "Chris keeps
telling me I need to grow a pair and put my foot down. He's right.
If Anne's brave enough to suggest a fake bonding to you to get out
of marrying me, then I should be able to tell him that I've made up
my mind and nothing he'll say is going to change that."