The Legend of the Werewolf (15 page)

Mike sighed but then panicked when she
rose unsteadily to her feet. "Don't move I'll be right
there!"

He took one step out of the lights and his
feet were kicked out from under him. The little air in his lungs
punched out as the ground slammed against his back.

A shadow hung over his body like a
dark, misty ghost, before it grabbed his legs with an eagle talon
grip and towed him toward the dark woods surrounding the
ranch.

He flailed his arms out. His hand caught
the tire of the truck, his body jerked and spine cracked with the
force of the stop.

His name was called but he was too
caught up in not letting the dark spirit take him away to pay
attention to who screamed it.

Mike dug his fingernails into the tire,
straining the bones in his hands, as the shadow kept pulling his
legs, hard enough to lift him until his body no longer touched the
ground.

He tried to kick, but the hands of the
shadow thing were wrapped around his ankles like duct tape. Sweat
beads grew on his forehead, cheeks, and lips with the strain of
holding on. His body stretched with the force of the tug. He was
going to be taller when this was over with. If he lived.

Westley grabbed his arms and yanked,
causing Mike to lose his grip on the truck with the force of the
opposite pull. He focused the attention of his hands on Westley
instead. He was now as straight as a ruler in the air.

His knees popped and he roared in
pain.

He got over it fast. The dirt below him
was moving which meant that, even with Westley’s strength, the
shadow was dragging them both away.

Mike’s lower spine popped, like a
balloon bursting in his ears. He was being torn in two.

Anne fell on them as though she’d dived
to grab hold. She wrapped her arms around Mike's torso but it still
wasn't enough.

The spirits gathered together and
pulled at once on his legs, yanking hard, Mike's fingers slipped
from their grip on Westley’s arm. He was yanked back at least a
foot, stopped only from Anne’s and Westley’s hands catching him
before he disappeared into the woods.

"Help, somebody help us!" Anne
screamed.

Despite the horrifying situation, Mike had
a moment of sheer calm, stretched out and being pulled to the dark
place where he would find his death. He looked into Anne's eyes.
Wild panic sat behind them.

She couldn't be looking at him like that
because he was her chance to avoid an unwanted marriage. He knew
it. He could sense it. She was terrified for him. It was strangely
comforting that someone could genuinely care about his wellbeing in
this place.

"Let go," he said.

"What?" sShe shrieked, squeezing him
tighter and digging her heals deeper into the gravel.

"Are you crazy?" Westley joined
in.

Mike would do this, he wouldn't let
them die for him! Twisting his head to see over his shoulder, they
had mere feet to go before they were entirely outside of the reach
of the lights.

The cars and trucks honked as their
engines vroomed to life, their lights shined, and the people inside
drove to their rescue.

They tried to, at least. They were
parked too close together, everyone too eager to turn around and
drive to him created a traffic jam. They weren’t going to make it
to the shadows in time.

"They're dragging me off. If you don't
let go they'll kill you too."

Both pairs of eyes flashed shock at him
but neither let go.

They lost another two feet. Mike growled,
fighting against Anne and Westley this time. Twisting his body,
yanking his arms and kicking his legs, anything to jar him loose.
"I said let go of me! Let go, Goddammit!"

He was half pastsed the first trees when
an inhuman wail pierced the air around them.

"Chris!" Westley yelled before Mike had
a chance to see the ball of fire flying in their direction like a
meteor.

It crashed and exploded like a bomb
behind him, shattering one of the lone trees. The heat fried Mike
through his clothes but it was the light that sent the shadows
scattering again like roaches.

They flew in no specific pattern, panicked
and unorganized as the giant red dragon lifted his head straight in
the air, opened his mouth, and blew fire like a flamethrower,
scattering them further.

The dragon howled flames like a war cry
at the enemies.

The cars and trucks, after untangling
themselves, sped to the trees at speeds fit for a highway with
their high beams blazing, throwing rocks, grass, and dirt as they
skid to a stop just before hitting the people they intended to
rescue.

The extra light was enough. The shadows
retreated, screeching into the night sky until no more screeches
could be heard.

Chris kept his head craned up,
arrowhead tail lazily floating in the air as he surveyed the sky in
case they decided to come back.

The people in the cars got out. Some to
stare in whatever distance the shadows disappeared in, or to stare
at Mike, Anne, and Westley. The ones who were still wolves, trotted
over to inspect the scene.

Mike shot to his knees. He scrambled to
wrap his fingers around Anne’s small arms. Whereas before he
struggled to get away from her, now he couldn’t grab her fast
enough.

He yanked Anne away from the blazing tree
with him. His body was clumsy after his spine was stretched like
silly putty and he fell on top of her.

Doesn’t matter,
he thought. The heat
of the burning tree and surrounding shrubs didn’t scorch him
through his clothes like before, which meant he put some distance
between her and the fire.

Westley, who’d managed to clear the
fire just fine on his own—lucky bastard with his uninjured
spine—jumped away to check on his lover.

Mike lifted his head. He couldn't see much
with the burning white spots in his eyes, but he did see how the
dragon wobbled on all four of his clawed feet and how Westley
allowed the horse-sized creature to lean on him as Westley escorted
him back to a bed.

Mike wanted to laugh. He couldn't
believe he was still alive by such a thin stroke of
luck.

His hands went to either side of Anne’s
head. He lifted himself enough to get a good look at her. She
stared up at him, breathing, but her body was dead-still. "Are you
al—?"

Her fist in his jaw stopped him.
The force knocked him to his back as though a tornado had done the
lifting. Her small body climbed on top of him, might as well have
put a pebble on a mountain for all she weighed, but her slap to his
face cracked like a lightning strike. "You idiot! You stupid,
stupid, jerk!
Let you go
. What were you thinking?"

He grabbed her wrists but that almost
wasn't enough to stop her. Bill appeared from behind and wrapped
his arms around her, yanking her off.

Her arms and legs flailed with the urge
to strike. Bill dropped her to her feet and gave her one hard
shake. “Stop screaming.” His voice was as calm as lake water on a
nice day. Anne obeyed, though she still glared at Mike.

Mike decided to stay right where he was
lest any movement provoke another attack. "Where were
you?"

Bill released his glaring granddaughter
and offered Mike his hand. With his eyes still on Anne, Mike took
it and got to his feet. Bill didn’t release him right away, his
hand squeezing Mike’s enough that a few of his knuckles popped,
meaning he’d caught the subtle accusation. "It's night. I was
sleeping when I heard the racket."

Suspicion scratched the back of Mike's
neck. "The sun only just went down a few minutes ago."

Bill's friendly face hardened. Another
one of Mike’s knuckles popped. "I'm old, I need my
sleep."

Funny, Mike knew a few senior citizens
and they all seemed to need less sleep as they aged. For the sake
of his hand, though, he kept his mouth shut.

A frightened feminine voice whispered
from behind him. "Will they come back?"

Mike turned. That woman who was nearly on
top of him earlier, Flo, or Fanny, or whatever, stood trembling,
her thin hands clutched together and feet were bare. Her broken
shoes must’ve fallen off when she ran away from the danger. A wolf
rubbed against her legs to offer comfort but she paid no attention
to it.

He didn't know what to say to her. "I
don't know. They don't seem to like the light so we should be safe
if we stay indoors with the lights on."

Anne stood beside him, close enough that
their arms brushed but when he looked down at her she avoided his
eyes. His lips quirked, he couldn't help it. She worried for him
and now she stood by him to keep the crowd at bay despite the anger
that radiated off her like an oven burner set on hi.

Then it hit him and his eyes bulged.
She was protecting him. He couldn’t believe it. Though he was one
human against a crowd of werewolves, he was still sure he could
handle himself without her protection should they decide that the
possibility of him being the first werewolf wasn’t worth the danger
to them or their children.

He appreciated it, but he didn’t need
her protection. Not at all.

Didn’t matter that the last time he stood
before a crowd like this they hadn't been so forgiving. They had
rocks in their hands and the idea that this could play out like
that horrific scene from so long ago, made him question whether or
not he should be standing there or getting ready to run as the
people in front of him looked among themselves for
answers.

Their low murmurs picked up into excited
chatter, as though nothing had just swooped in from the sky and
tried to kill them to begin with. "It must be him!"

"He's the one."

"Did you see those shadows?"

“Frickin’ crazy, man.”

The crowd was ready to advance on him
but Gordon cut ahead of them all, two heavy flashlights in his
hands. "That's enough! I didn't call you here to rush him, he's not
a Goddamn celebrity!"

Mike was in awe of the way the entire
pack hushed at Gordon's strong gaze and severe voice. Would he ever
understand the relationship between a pack and their leader? Money
alone couldn't do that.

Gordon sighed and shook his head, annoyed
with the people before him. "Since it's obvious that most of you
travelled quite a ways to be here, I'll give you a choice: either
go home and get away from the possible danger," he looked over his
shoulder at Mike. "or stay until morning so everyone can decide
what to do about this."

Mike at least expected the individuals
with children to take the hint and go. Everyone kept their feet
firm.

"They're out of their minds," he
muttered.

Anne nudged him, her anger gone, replaced
with a catty smile. "And they'll do whatever you tell
them."

Mike glanced sharply at Bill who still
stood next to them, but the man either didn't hear his
granddaughter or pretended not to.

With his keen senses it had to be the
latter.

When no one moved to leave, Gordon
grumbled, pulled an overstuffed key ring out of his pocket and
handed them all keys to the small houses around the ranch with a
warning to keep the lights on throughout the night and telling them
where the flashlights were located.

Gordon threw them a glare when everyone
had gone. It took twenty minutes to convince the pack to go without
getting another word, or more autographs, from Mike.

"I hope your highnesses are happy. Now
if you'll excuse me, I need to turn off the lights from these
trucks."

"Shouldn't we keep them on?" Anne
asked.

Gordon barely glanced at her. "I'm not
paying to replace those batteries when they die just because the
lights were left on."

"I'll help you," Mike offered.

"I'm not the one they're after. Go to
bed," he snapped.

Anne stepped toward her master, guilt
in her voice. "Gordon—"

"I don't want your help either. Go to
bed," He yelled, already in one of the cars.

Mike rolled his eyes and turned so
Gordon couldn’t see his sneer. If the bastard didn’t want any help
then Mike wasn’t going to offer twice.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Bill said,
nudging Anne to follow Mike to their small cabin. "Get some
rest."

Anne hesitated, wrapped her arms around
her grandfather, kissed his cheek, and then looped her arm through
Mike's.

He couldn't help but bring a hand up to
the back of her neck.

She looked at him sharply. "What are
you doing?"

"Checking for injuries." It was true,
but it was secondary to his need to touch her and he needed a quick
cover. He let his hand slide down her back as he searched for
anything out of place and delighted when he found nothing. "That
was a hard fall."

She stretched under his fingers and he
had to fight against the grin threatening to take him. "Felt hard,"
she muttered.