Five: Out of the Dark (10 page)

“Johnathan, no!” I screamed. I ran to the circle and begged with the Johnathan-creature. “John, stop! You’re hurting yourself! Please stop!” My hands clutched at my chest as the pressure built inside, ready to explode.

My pleading aroused his bestial instincts to a fever pitch. He re-doubled his efforts to escape the circle. His yellow eyes watched me, unblinking, unwavering. He licked his lips. Drool dripped from his jowls. Fear shot through me like rivers of ice through my veins. Animal instinct kicked in, my fight or flight mechanism urging me to flee. I shuddered and retreated into the trees. I fell to the ground and screamed in anger and fear; my arms covering my head and ears.

Hours later, Halli coaxed me out of the woods. Arm in arm, we walked back to the clearing, where Seth had started a fire in the pit to keep us warm and give us some light. The creature that had been Johnathan didn’t stop his screeching, or his howling attempts to escape until just before dawn. The moon fell in the sky and we could see the light of the sun as it started to light up the clouds to the east. He curled up on the ground into a fetal position and just rocked back and forth. A pathetic mewling sound escaped his throat.

Before the sun had fully risen, Johnathan transformed back into himself, his ripped clothing barely covering his body. He lay there, trembling, and my heart ached for him. For me. For us.

I broke the circle and laid my black pea coat over him. We all wore longer coats or jackets of some sort to hide our gear belts. I knelt next to him and reached to brush his hair out of his eyes. He flinched, closing his eyes tighter, then pulled my coat over his head.

I laid my hand on his shoulder. The trembling soon turned to sobs. After about five minutes of hearing his sobs and forcing myself not to cry, I pulled my coat back from his face.

“Look at me, Johnathan,” I said, tender but stern.

He didn’t try to pull the coat back over his face as I dabbed with my sleeve at his cheeks streaked with a combination of tears and blood. He kept his eyes closed.

“Johnathan, look at me,” I repeated.

He drew in a breath, then exhaled sharply. He swallowed hard and opened his eyes, looking into mine. I almost couldn’t stand the shame and sorrow I saw there.

“John,” I pressed on, my voice surprisingly unwavering. “I will find a way to fix this, I promise. This is my fault. I’m so, so sorry. I
will
find a way to fix it.”

Johnathan shook his head and sat up slowly. He took my hand in both of his and stared at them as he spoke. “This is
not
your fault. What … what
happened
last night? It’s all a blur.”

I didn’t want to tell him, to remind him, about the last eight hours or so. But he’d asked. And, maybe, he would know some answers. “You … you …
changed,
John. You yelled for me to lock you in a circle, so I did, and then you changed into …
something.
”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Like a half-man, half-wolf …
thing
. You were very angry and clawed at your face and arms in frustration. I … I think you would have hurt us … and others … if we’d let you out. I’m sorry, Johnathan.” I’d been trying to hold back tears for his sake, but the memory of the creature full of rage tipped the scales and a few tears escaped and ran down my face.

“Please don’t cry, Paige. You did exactly the right thing. I could never forgive myself if I hurt one of you, or anyone else for that matter. I don’t know what’s happening. I think I need to go see Madame LaForte. She might know what’s going on and how to reverse it.”

He stood, as if he meant to go visit the old psychic right that minute. “Johnathan,” I said. “Let’s get you home and cleaned up, first. Then, I’ll go with you to see her.”

He looked down at himself, seeing for the first time his torn and ravaged clothing, his bare feet, and the wicked, self-inflicted scratches. He was dirty and blood-streaked. “I can’t walk through the city looking like this, can I?”

“No, you can’t,” Halli said. “Let’s go to the creek and clean you up a little. You can wear Alec’s jacket, but I have no idea what to do about shoes. Yours are torn to shreds.”

“I’ll just have to go barefoot.” He stood up slowly, reminding me of an old man, and handed my coat back to me.

All five of us made our way to the creek, Johnathan stepping carefully in his bare feet. He stuck both hands in and splashed the cold water on his face and hair. He did the same to his arms, chest, and feet. Luckily, his pants had survived with only a few tears.

Alec’s denim jacket was a little snug on the bigger Johnathan, but it didn’t look too weird. The walk back to our Underground home was a quiet one and Johnathan’s feet were raw by the time we reached it. He had an extra pair of shoes stashed away, shoes he’d found in a dumpster. They were bright blue and yellow high-tops. They looked ridiculous.

I tried to convince him to rest a little before going to see our psychic friend, but he was adamant that he was fine to go right then. He needed information. I understood. I wanted information, too, but, I was exhausted and I could only imagine how much more so he was. When I saw that I wouldn’t be able to talk him into waiting, I insisted on going with him. The others wanted to go, too, but Johnathan told them all to stay, stating, “Stay here and get some rest. Madame LaForte will respond better if only two of us go.”

There was no hand-holding or talk of dates on this outing. Johnathan barely spoke a word as we walked through the downtown lunchtime crowds to Madame LaForte’s home. Johnathan knocked on the door and we heard a raspy voice yell, “Go away!”

“Madame LaForte, it’s Johnathan and Paige. Could we please talk with you for just a moment?” Johnathan asked.

“Oh,
Johnathan
,” she said in a softer tone. “Why didn’t you say so? Just a minute, I’m coming.”

The elderly psychic had a smile on her face when she opened the door. She
really
had a crush on Johnathan. “Come in, come in!” she said as she ushered us into the foyer. She shut and locked the door and then turned toward us. She laid her wrinkled hand on Johnathan’s forearm to escort him into her sitting room … and she stiffened. She shrieked in disgust, “
You tricked me! You are not Johnathan! Get out! Get out! Get out!”

Johnathan’s face was a mask of shock, as I’m sure mine was. Madame LaForte backed away and held her pentacle necklace up in a defensive posture.

“Madame LaForte,” I said. “What’s wrong? This
is
Johnathan. We’ve done nothing to trick you.”

She narrowed her eyes warily for a moment and then gestured me forward, “Come here, girl, slowly.
You
stay there,” she shook an angry finger at Johnathan.

I went and stood in front of her. She gingerly touched my arm, and relaxed slightly. “Good,” she said. “
You
are untainted … for now.”

“What do you mean,
untainted
?” I asked. I wanted to add,
why are you being so weird?
But decided against it, since it was kind of a dumb question … she was always weird.

“He has been
turned
. I can feel the evil. He must leave my house. He cannot be here!” Her voice rose in pitch.

Johnathan held his hands up in a placating gesture and said, “Okay, Madame. I’ll wait for Paige outside. Just, please, let her stay, we need some information.”

“Fine. Leave.”

It was up to me.

She turned to me when she was sure Johnathan was out of her house and said, “What happened to him? Tell me!”

I explained what happened with the changeling. Madame LaForte stood quietly and listened. As I described what had happened the night before, her eyes grew wide.

“Girl, I’m afraid your friend has been turned. Have ya heard of a
lycanthrope
?”

“No …”

“Very much like a Hollywood werewolf. His blood is tainted with evil.”

“Okay. Then how do we fix it?” I asked. That was all I cared about.

She laughed a bitter laugh. “Fix it? You don’t
fix it
,” she said. “I know of no cure for this evil. If he’s an honorable man, your friend will end his own life in order to spare the lives of his hundreds of potential victims. Including yourself.”

I gasped at her harsh words. “He will do no such thing! I
will
find a cure if it’s the last thing I do! There has to be a way!”

“Poor girl. If there is a way, no human knows it. Maybe the Fae people know of a way, but I doubt it. They would exact a harsh payment from you for any information anyway, harsher than most humans would be willing to pay. Death is his only cure, Paige. Death will bring peace for his tormented soul.” She reached a comforting hand toward my arm. I jerked away, frustrated tears stinging my eyes.

“You’re wrong.” I said, and stormed from her house.

I didn’t tell Johnathan about her suggestion for a
cure
. I did tell him the old woman didn’t know of a cure but that she’d given me an idea of how to find one. When he pressed me for details, I said, “Just let me do this for you, John. You can’t do it for yourself. Don’t worry, I
will
find a way to help you.”

The sky darkened as black clouds swept across it. The gloominess of the atmosphere matched that of my soul. We walked home in silence as rain poured down on us.

ohnathan went right to sleep as soon as we reached our new home. The night’s activities had really worn him out. I, however, had a hard time falling asleep, even though I was exhausted. In my haste to find a cure and my subsequent anger at Madame LaForte’s suggestion, I’d neglected to ask some important questions—like, how often will he change? And, when will he change again? Little things like that.

So, I tossed and turned for about an hour, then I gave up on sleeping for the day. I grabbed the white book and sat down at a table. I thumbed through the chapters on non-human beings, trying to remember the word Madame LaForte had used.
Likeand-
something. As I flipped quickly through the pages, a picture caught my eye. I backtracked, searching slower for the picture. I found it about five pages back—a drawing of a creature that looked very similar to how Johnathan had looked the night before.
Lycanthrope
, the caption read.

There was very little information. It basically said there were two ways to become a
lycanthrope
. One, it could be genetically handed down from father to son. Or two, a warlock is bitten by some form of
lycanthrope
—a warlock in the guise of a human, an Elf, or a Goblin. Even Giants weren’t immune to the evil poison of a bite. The
change
took place only during a full moon. That was good; it meant I had a full month to find a cure. Oh, and there was no known cure. I latched onto the word
known
because that left the possibility there was a cure, but the people who wrote the book just didn’t know what it was.

I laid my head on the table, cradled by my folded arms. I fell asleep thinking of what I should do.

I was awakened quite abruptly by a nightmare. It started out nicely. Johnathan and I were on a date at a fancy restaurant. I sat across the table from him and we held hands, lost in each other’s eyes. The waiter brought our food and set mine in front of me—a perfectly cooked medium steak and an abundance of crab legs. Then he set Johnathan’s plate down, and I gagged. Johnathan’s steak was raw; fresh blood dripped off the plate. His nostrils flared, canine-like. He changed in an instant. He became the long-toothed
lycanthrope
and gulped down the raw meat in one mouthful, plate and all. Then he looked up at me with a wolfish gleam in his yellow-gold eyes. I awoke, screaming, as he lunged across the table at me.