The Lady in the Mist (The Western Werewolf Legend #1) (15 page)

Since his arrival, he was certain she’d relocated it there to make dressing easier.  After all, he occupied her bedroom.  The fact she’d moved the solid piece to begin with amazed him.  He should move the heavy piece back into the bedroom for her.  First, he’d check to see if it held his gun.  If he wasn’t mistaken a woman would see her closet as the perfect place to hide a man’s revolver without distress of the gun being discovered.  He bent to the task, rifling through the dresses hanging within, next to the bottom where hatboxes along with small storage trays rested.  He noted the meager stash of clothing and lingerie the cabinet held.  One dress in particular hung near the back, wrapped in tissue.  Ty could tell the material was of a fine quality.  Perhaps it was her one good ensemble.  The war cruelly snuffed a woman’s wants and wreaked havoc on her needs.  No fine lace or French lingerie made it through the barricades.  No silver combs or fancy feathers to adorn one’s hair slipped by the Union troops.  How much had Sonja suffered because of the conflict?  Ty’s search slowed as he pondered the question.  How he would have enjoyed being able to bring some pleasure to her baron world.  Shaking his head, he found a sharp pang of annoyance rode roughshod over everything.  The world was a cruel place and he wanted…what?

Cursing, he stood again.  There was nothing in the armoire.  He kicked at the fire hearth.  The sting to his big toe reminded him his temper erupted more often of late.  Too much apprehension, he mused.  A groan of frustration left his mouth, followed by one of sheer desperation.  The old hag’s words kept circling in his head.  The memory of the witch’s prediction was a sign.  Maggie would agree.  Hell, it was a sign it was time to leave.  Glancing back at the wooden cabinet, he argued with his emotional response and moving the armoire back to Sonja’s bedroom won out.  Putting his back into the task, he shoved the heavy piece of furniture across the rough plank floor.  After several shoves, something thudded to the floor.  He reached under the front of the cabinet, where he touched the coolness of steel.  Drawing out his gun, he said a silent prayer.  The discovery should have galvanized his determination to be on his way, but instead locating the gun made the desire not to hurt her even stronger.

She’d been hurt enough.  The lost look in her eyes made his heart ache to comfort her.  From what, he wasn’t sure.  He cursed with the growing frustration.  She wouldn’t talk to him.  Probably didn’t trust him enough to explain why she what?  Couldn’t be with an Injun?  The pain of that realization stabbed straight through to his heart.  Of course, she couldn’t tell him the truth.  He’d served his purpose and now the red man had to go.  With the cabinet back in its proper place along and with his gun in the belt of his borrowed trousers, he donned a shirt and boots, both of which were made for another man’s build.  What she’d done with his, he couldn’t fathom. .Asking was out of the question.  Soon, he was gathering a burlap bag and placing two small apples from her stash inside.  It would have to do until he could kill a squirrel or other meat.  The sensation of someone watching made him glance over his shoulder.  Sonja wasn’t there, yet something was.  Shaking away the impression, Ty turned for the door.  Gathering a couple of flint rocks, he stuffed them in his bag and scanned the room once more.  The tug in his chest was back.  He turned to go and something crunched under foot.  There on the floor lay a small silver cross on a chain.  The same cross, he’d seen around Sonja’s neck earlier.  He should leave a note, but with nothing to write on, he would go.  She’d be better off without him.  He’d leave and she’d find a man who could give her the life she deserved.  Not one saddled to a man the world scorned.  The war had left untold scares for him to deal with.  Sonja deserved better.  Shoving the necklace into his pants pocket, Ty stepped off the porch.

***

The swamp at night held a chorus of bird’s songs.  Grateful for the distraction, he found he didn’t need to strain to hear something dangerous approaching.  Panthers roamed swamps.  He didn’t want to come upon one now.  But he could hear perfectly.  In fact, his senses all seemed heightened.

Wondering where she’d gone, he glanced about at the dark branches hanging low with long extensions of moss draped thick among the branches bordering the trail.  Sonja never seemed intimidated by the night.  She melded with the darkness like a torch and fire.  Speaking of a torch, one would have provided more light and some protection against those panthers, but if he was discovered or met someone, he’d be leaving questions as to his true identity.  No, it was best if he disappeared.

A noise had him halting in his tracks.  The birds took flight in a flurry of feathers and screeches.  He could hear the scurry of smaller animals ducking for cover.  Ty gripped the revolver tighter while keeping a close eye on the surrounding undergrowth.

A low howl rose up amid the night sounds and ended on a pitiful whimper.  The call tore at Ty’s composure.  Perhaps the animal had been snared, he mused.  Of course, there were wolves in the vicinity.  The foothills were close by.  Wolves commonly roamed down into the valley for food at night.  As he listened, the sound grew agonized.  He picked up the pace.  The cry came again.  This time his name echoed through the trees.  He shook his head.  Surely, his imagination played tricks on his ears.  Shortly, the cry came again.  Low and mournful, the creature cried out as if in pain.  Urgent and raw the cry rose on the wind. The howl echoed through the dark shapes of the water willows.  Reminding himself to breath, he kept moving, ever watchful for trouble.

Ty strained to hear.  The call came again and this time he struck out in the direction from where it emanated.  Hampered by the almost impenetrable undergrowth, he fought to clear his way closer.  Encumbered by the briars clogging the boggy ground, he struggled to reach the animal.  She was in trouble!  The undergrowth tripped and snagged him as if in a planned assault.  Tree limbs fell from above as vines lashed out in aggravating accuracy.

Finally, he came upon a tiny clearing where the mat of moss laid thick on the swamp floor.  The creature’s whimpered cries lead him there.  He crept closer.  Several soldiers dressed in Yankee blue worked over a fire.  Ty bit back an oath as he fought the nausea that climbed up his throat.  This was no ordinary campfire.

Struggling with a four-legged creature, they laughed, jeering obscenities at a she wolf.  A large fire burned brightly in the middle of the clearing.  Vicious snarls and teeth gnashing filled the night air.

“She’s a feisty one, ain’t she?  Damn near bit me when I got close.”  The Yankee poked a stick at the she wolf tethered near the fire.

Ty caught a glimpse of the man in the meager light of the flames.  He was one of the men who’d come with Perkins to Sonja’s.  Alarm bells went off in his head.  The situation had his blood churning, his mind racing.  What were they up to?  Why should he care?  The voice of reason reminded him he’d been on his way.  He needed to be about getting gone.

But the pitying cries of the wolf tugged at his concern.  He wondered how he would save her.

Ty could hear the men talking.

“She changed as soon as the moon rose,” another soldier said in light amazement.  “I figured it would take some time, but she changed almost instantly.”  He snapped his fingers together, before shaking back a chuckle.  “What do you plan on doing with her, Major?”

The man the soldier spoke to, turned in the firelight and Ty recognized Perkins.  The major glanced at the man from where he hunkered near the fire.  His black smile gleamed in the fire’s light.  “When you boys get those oil skins underneath the table there, we’re gonna cut her open and drain her.”  Perkins profile stood out in stark relief against the backdrop of the open flames.

Ty’s gut clenched with one of his intuitions that never presaged anything good.  The man resembled evil in its purest form.  The she wolf had little time left.

Another soldier stationed around the fire rubbed his hands together as he sucked in air.  “I can’t wait to get a taste of this one.  She’s supposed to have the power.  You know, the strength the old witch talked about before we killed her.”  His laughed with anxious tension.

With the news Hortence was dead, Ty’s eyes burned inside their sockets.  His breath raged inside his chest with the pain of death pierced him square in the chest.  He and Sonja would be lost without the old witch’s help.

If the man had no compunction about killing Hortence merely to be rid of her, he’d certainly not have one about killing a woman for something he valued.

Perkins rose, reaching over to shove the man who’d divulged their part in the murder.  “Now, listen to me and listen good.  Nobody tastes her until the master gets his.  Is that clear?”

There was an eerie silence as all their heads dropped like well-trained lackeys, nodding in unison.

“I said is that clear?”  Perkins growled.

The subordinates murmured but nodded clearly.

Cold seeped into Ty bones.  They meant to have their way with her, to kill her after they’d raped and drained her.  Who the ‘Master’ was kept circling in Ty’s brain.

“Don’t look so glum boys, Master ordered me to give you a little present for all your hard work.”  He glanced from one to another around the fire.  “When we’re done here, you’ll all get to feed on the old witch.”

Feed?  Ty’s mind raced with the possibilities of what Perkin’s words meant.  While he tried to sort it all out, the soldiers good naturedly slapped each other on the back, grunting their approval.

Their next movement had Ty’s mind screaming for it to stop!  Dragging the creature they’d chained belly up between two trees, the Yankees swung the animal onto a nearby wooden table.  Securing the chains to metal brackets lodged in the trees on either side of the rough platform, they managed to stretch her spread eagle.  Now the she wolf’s howls rose into the night air filled with terror.

“Have you got the blade hot?” Perkins asked the Yankee working with a long, sinister looking hooked knife gleaming red in the light of the fire.

“Yes, sir. Major, it’s hotter than hell.”

Perkins flicked the man a glance and stepped toward him, waving him back from the task.  Bending over, he took the claw-like piece of metal in his hand.  With a smirk on his lean face, Perkins stepped around the group and spoke to them, “Tonight, we began a new journey.  For tonight, not only will we be immortal, but we will also be invincible.”  He jutted his chin, pointing at the men with the red-hot blade.  “After tonight, we will be able to walk through a lake of fire, withstand any wooden stake, and laugh at holy water and garlic.  After tonight, we will take our rightful place as Lords over this pitiful place.”

They cheered.  Ty glanced at the wolf as it struggled shacked across the crud table despite her efforts to escape.  A chill shot through him when Sonja’s voice came to him on the wind.

“Help me!”

Ty gripped the gun tight.  Waiting proved the hardest thing to do.

Perkins raised his arms wide as if embracing his congregation and said, “All right, it’s time.  The master will be here soon.  He will want to feed.  So, let’s get about it.  Okay?”

With the first man’s touch along her throat, the wolf snarled viciously, slobbering in all directions.  The poor creature whined and whimpered in agony as the man cut a thin slice into her hairy flesh right below her ear.  The cry bursting from her had Ty’s blood burning in response.  Sweat beaded along his brow.  His skin crawled with spider flesh.  Unable to focus clearly, he shook his head.  A red haze built around the edges of his vision.  Wiping away the perspiration with his sleeve, he cautiously pulled the hammer back on the gun.  Leveling it on a nearby limb, he estimated the distance.  It would prove to be a factor, but one he could do nothing about.  Raising the hairs of the pistol up a notch while gauging windage and elevation, Ty bore down on the nearest one before pulling the trigger.

The soldier flinched, clutching at his belly.  Ty’s shot had been off, but caught the man in the stomach.  The soldier stared at Perkins in surprise before slumping forward and dropping into the flames.  Agonized wails of pain filled the air as the soldier crumpled into ash.

The other Yankee soldiers made the direction the shot came from.  “Shit!” he growled and levered the hammer back again.  His targets ran for cover like scared rabbits.

Another soldier fell.

Perkins snarled vicious slurs at the darkness encircling them.  He barked orders at the two remaining men before firing near Ty’s position.

The bullet missed him but not by much.  With nerves of steel, Ty slipped back into the thicket and moved to a new position.  A movement to his right flickered in his peripheral vision.  Ty wheeled to come face to face with a large black wolf standing on two legs.  His eyes focused on the beast and without hesitation understood what Hortence meant about the Guardian.  In his subconscious, Ty found a kinship with the hulking creature.  Within seconds he absorbed the words the beast hurled at him with his mind.  Rage surged up from down deep, trying to engulf him.  The hairs on his neck stood at attention.  He could actually hear a roaring in his head now.  Shaking his head before knocking his temple with the heel of his hand, Ty tried to clear the sensations, which seemed to come out of nowhere.