Read The Witch and the Werewolf Online
Authors: John Burks
Tags: #paranormal romance, #witches, #werewolves, #post apocalyptic romance, #free post apocalyptic novels
Cassandra didn’t answer.
Instead she pulled the silver filled pistol from its holder and
aimed it at the beast’s head. “You killed my mother. You’ve invaded
my head. It’s time for you to die.”
He did not try to argue.
“I am sorry about your mother. Though long an adversary, I have
nothing but the greatest respect for Eleanor Kent. She was a true
warrior and, if it’s any comfort, the feral who took her recently
saw his own demise. As for your thoughts… that I cannot explain.
I’ve never felt anything like it. If you will pull that trigger and
be sure to put the bullet here,” he said, pointing to the spot
between his eyes, “You may be able to stop the connection and do me
the service of killing me once and for all.”
Cassandra had wanted
nothing more than to kill wolves since Worm Fall and her mother’s
murder. She was getting good at destroying those who’d destroyed
her mother. She’d thought of little else besides killing this wolf
since he’d first stirred in the corners of her mind. She’d expected
a snarling beast, easy for her to kill. She hadn’t expected a
thoughtful, sorrowful man.
“
I don’t understand. You
want to die?”
The wolf nodded in
agreement. “I came to this city to do just that. One last night of
relishing in the warmth of your people and then a long, endless
sleep. I was taken to this place before I could manage it,
though.”
“
I still don’t understand.
Why do you want to die?”
The wolf man sighed. “I
don’t know how to explain it to someone so young.”
“
I’m not a
child.”
“
Nor do I mean it that
way. I am, however, thousands of years older than you. I’ve seen
the rise and fall of my people. They are rising once more, but I do
not want to see what comes of this new dark kingdom. They are not
the innocent wolves in the meadow. They have become twisted, sick
with blood lust. I’ve grown weary of watching my lovers grow old
and die before my eyes and my children become monsters. I’ve seen
the good of your people, but more importantly, I’ve seen the bad. I
do not relish living in this new world created by
Wormwood.”
Cassandra’s finger
tightened on the trigger again. Fine, she thought. The thing does
want to die. I can make that happen. But she could not squeeze the
trigger far enough to make it and her hands shook as she
tried.
“
You do not want to see
what is coming,” the wolf told her. “War like this world has not
seen for thousands of years is on the horizon. It will not just be
my kind. It will not just be the wolves. Every dark species has
been waiting for this day and they will all crawl from the shadows
and hunt your people to extinction. Man has been the king for far
too long, now, and Wormwood has brought the change those hiding in
the dark needed. The scales are tipping, Cassandra. I suggest you
pull that trigger and then turn the pistol on yourself. It would be
the easiest, most humane way.”
He wanted her to not only
kill him, but commit suicide. It seemed ludicrous. Cassandra tensed
and tried to pull the trigger but couldn’t. “Damn it,” she growled
at him. “Why can’t you be full of fur and teeth? Why can’t you be a
wolf right now?”
“
Would it help if I
transformed for you? The process is not pleasant to watch and these
silver bindings will make it… difficult.”
“
No,” she said sadly, the
pistol wavering in her hand. “I don’t think I can.”
“
Why?” the wolf asked,
genuinely curious. “Why can’t you kill me? I am your enemy, aren’t
I? At least that’s what your mother has raised you to
believe.”
“
Until Worm Fall I didn’t
even know werewolves were a thing. I mean, I know in the movies and
what not, but in real life… no.”
“
You did not know your
mother was a witch?”
“
No.”
“
I think it’s my turn not
to understand.”
She felt its confusion.
The wolf had been so sure she was coming to kill it and, when she
couldn’t, his situation changed.
“
If you can’t kill me at
least set me free.”
“
Why would I do
that?”
“
Is this right?” he said,
pulling at the shackles that still burned his flesh. “Is this who
you are? You’ve felt what they’ve done to me. Every time I think
your species is finished with learning new ways to inflict pain you
think of another.”
“
You are a werewolf. Not
six hours ago I watched your kind devour an entire survivor
community,” she said, not mentioning that the people who’d run
Bridge Town deserved exactly what they’d gotten. “You expect me to
turn the most powerful of your kind that I’ve met free?”
“
Those are mere feral
wolves,” the wolf man told her. “Little more than beasts, countless
generations removed from their sire. They are so far from the
original bloodlines that I barely feel them. My connection with
you, for whatever reason, is stronger.”
“
And just who is that
sire? My mother and the priest say if he were to die, your entire
species would just disappear. Is it really that easy?”
The wolf leaned forward,
grinning. “If you’ll pull that trigger we can finally put that
particular theory to the test.”
He was the alpha? How is
it possible? Her hesitation faded and she finally squeezed the
trigger. The big gun barked in her hand, her aim true. The bullet
punched a hole between the wolf’s eyes and his head jerked back.
Brain and bone splattered the silver walls behind him as he slumped
down, against the chains.
The cop burst into the
room, his own firearm drawn. “Is everything all right? There was a
gun shot.” He looked past her, into the cell. “Crap. The priest is
going to be pissed now. What have you done?”
“
I’ve ended them,” she
said sadly as the connection to the wolf was severed in an instant.
She felt a piece of her fade with it. “There will be no more
wolves.”
Alarms began blaring
throughout the complex.
“
What is that for?” she
asked the cop, holstering her gun.
“
Werewolves are
attacking,” he said, running for the stairs.
She stared at the corpse
of the wolf in disbelief. They’d all been wrong, she thought. So
very wrong.
“
So much for that
theory.”
Church of the Dead Wolf
The interior of the ship surprised Dutch and he knew then
where all of the priest’s supplies had come from in such a short
amount of time. The basement had been loaded to the ceiling with
supplies, but it hadn’t been enough to feed the large number of
people now working around what everyone had taken to calling the
Church of the Dead Wolf for more than a couple of days. The cargo
ship had been packed to the brim with supplies of all sorts. There
were stacks of Chinese generators next to pallets of shrink wrapped
noodles along with hundreds of tons of pallets marked FEMA. The
vast holds of the ship were packed with similar items and Dutch had
to wonder what sort of cosmic luck the preacher had in order for
something like this to crash only a feet away from where the
entrance to his bunker was.
“
Wow,” Jeremy mused as
they pushed through the people in the ship. “Where did they all
come from?”
There were more people
inside the ship than out. Many were simply recovering, lying on
mats on the floor, eating, and sleeping. Most, however, worked like
ants, cataloging the ship’s supplies and rearranging the cargo
areas to squeeze in more people. Dutch and Jeremy eventually found
a makeshift cafeteria and the smell of cooking food just about
doubled him over.
They stood in line with
the survivors from the bridge battle. The men and women were dirty
and bruised up from the ride in the back of the eighteen wheeler,
but Dutch was happy to see some of them smiling. He even heard some
laughter. Man will go on, he thought. You can throw a cosmic rock
at us, blot out the sun, and attack us with killer werewolves but
we’ll survive. He felt good after the mostly successful mission and
was happy to see other survivors who weren’t trying to eat
him.
“
It’s pretty good, huh?”
he asked the kid.
“
What is?”
“
All this,” he said,
motioning around the ship in a wide circle. “We just might make
it.”
“
I guess,” the boy said
reluctantly. “If we survive the werewolves.”
“
Keep that down,” Dutch
ordered. “No reason to spook the natives just yet.”
“
Okay,” the boy responded,
taking a tray of food. Dutch was surprised at the number of blind
in the ship. That any had first somehow survived the tsunami and
then made their way to the ship was just as amazing luck as the
priest’s on where the ship filled with supplies had settled. The
boy was different than them, though. Dutch was also shocked no one
had asked how he managed about so normally without any
eyes.
“
You like her, don’t you?”
the boy finally asked as they took their trays to a
table.
“
Who?”
“
You know who.
Cassandra.”
“
Sure,” Dutch replied.
“She’s a pretty cool lady.”
“
I don’t mean like
that.”
“
Then just how do you
mean?” Dutch asked. The boy being uncomfortable asking the grown up
questions tickled him.
“
I mean like a girlfriend.
You like her like that.”
He was attracted to girl
for sure. She was beautiful and, when she wasn’t busy being a
spoiled little girl, he found her funny and genuine. He wasn’t sure
how he felt about the fact that she was some sort of warrior witch
queen with superhuman powers.
“
I don’t know, kid. She’s
way younger than me,” he said, though he knew the ten year
difference wasn’t all that much, especially considering the
apocalypse and werewolf wars. “And besides, even if I did, she’s
not into me. Not like that. Hell, Jeremy, I don’t even think the
girl likes me.”
“
You’re wrong. She does.
But he’s in her head.”
“
The wolf?”
The boy shook his head in
agreement as he shoveled a spoonful of chicken noodle soup into his
mouth.
“
And what’s he doing while
he’s in there?”
“
I don’t know for sure. I
can’t see thoughts. But I can see her confusion and pain when she
thinks about him. I think she might… I don’t know. She might want
to kiss him or something.”
A child’s simplification
of an adult relationship to the act of kissing was fascinating. The
fact that the boy had picked up on the subtle shift in Cassandra’s
attitude towards the wolf was worrisome, but he tried not to let it
bother him. He’d watched her kill the wolves, admired her in
battle. He didn’t think she was about to consort with the
enemy.
“
I wouldn’t worry about it
kid. We’re going to have bigger things on our plates before long.”
The werewolves were coming, he knew. He just wanted a meal and a
nap before they got there.
“
I want you to kiss
her.”
“
Huh?”
“
If you kiss her she’ll
forget about that werewolf and like you.”
“
It’s not that
simple.”
“
Why not?”
“
I don’t know how to
explain adult relationships to you, kid. But it’s more complicated
than just kissing her or passing her a note. And I’m telling you,
that girl does not care for me one bit. I’m surprised she didn’t
shoot me in the back on the way here. So moot point.”
“
I wish you’d quit calling
me kid.”
“
I know, kid,” Dutch said
with a smile.
“
And you’re wrong about
her not liking you.”
“
Oh yeah? How do you know
that?”
“
She changes colors when
she talks to you. I don’t think that green means hate.”
“
Interesting,” Dutch said,
but before he got a chance to ask more alarms began sounding
throughout the ship. He stopped one of the people running through
the ships hold.
“
Hey, whats the alarm
for?”
“
Werewolves. Father
O’Leary said they’d come for us. I didn’t believe him. Guess he was
right.”
“
Great,” Dutch said,
staring at the bowl of chicken noodle soup that was about to be
left uneaten.
“
Okay kid, find a place to
hide. Dinner bell is ringing.”
Cassandra took the steps leading out of the dark basement
three at a time, pistol in one hand and one of her mother’s swords
in the other. The area inside the unfinished wall was awash in men
running with weapons towards the walls, weapons raised. Others fled
up the ramp into the ship. She heard the wolves howl in the
distance followed by the first rattle of automatic gunfire. The
priest was atop the wall, rifle in hand.
“
Do not fire until you see
them. That silver is not easily replaceable!” the man ordered in
his thick, Irish accent.
The rubble wall was
covered in ice and sleet making her accent tough. She finally
joined the priest at his side, scanning the darkness.