24. Catriona

24

CATRIONA

" R eally?" Belinda asks, relieved. Then her face falls. "I can't ask you to do that."

"I'm sure they didn't get far," I say encouragingly.

"I'll be forever indebted to the two of you," Belinda says. "But please, don't put yourselves at risk, all right?"

We nod, saying our goodbyes as we step into the cold street. Night is falling quickly, the sun nearing the treetops along the horizon.

"Which way should we go?" Felix asks, scanning the street. There's no sign of Millie or Hubert.

"Let's walk toward the northern bridge for now. When it gets darker, we can send Greg to look for them."

As soon as we're well away from the village hall, Felix asks quietly, "What are your thoughts?"

"Hubert is suspicious, but he's almost too suspicious."

"Who fits the type the most, would you say?"

I think about it, frowning. "Honestly? Otis. But there's no way—he has children, a wife, a sister. He's closely related to too many people. Even if this werewolf is a master manipulator of faces, someone would notice. And Belinda has reported strange changes with her father."

"Though something tells me he wasn't a ray of sunshine before the wolf took him out and stole his identity," Felix says wryly.

I nod.

It's almost dark by the time we reach the bridge. We look down the lanes, seeing no sign of Millie or her father.

"Greg," I call. "We need you to help look for someone."

"Or rather, two someones," Felix adds.

"Will you circle the village and the surrounding area?" I ask, sensing him in my head even though he hasn't answered.

I hear a groggy groan, and then finally, he says, " It's evening. "

"Did you sleep all afternoon?" I ask him.

" Not much else to do, " he grouses.

"I'd send you home, but we need your nose and eyes in the sky."

" Anything for you, Cat. "

"And what about me?" Felix jokes.

" Is your name Cat? " Greg asks, making me laugh.

Felix snorts, rolling his eyes. "Are you in the air yet?"

" Yes. Now leave me alone so I can do my job."

"Thank you, Greg," I say.

Though the dragon is nearby, I feel the connection go silent, and I laugh. "Apparently, he's not feeling sociable this evening."

"He never is when he first wakes up."

My mind goes back to the meeting. "It seems most of the town believes it's a werewolf. I'm surprised no one suspects us."

"Maybe they do, but they're good at hiding their speculation."

"Possibly, but I think most believe the myth. They're looking at each other with speculation, wondering who got themselves bitten."

"The full moon is in nine days?—"

Felix is cut off by a loud, male yell coming from a lane near the tavern.

"Hubert," I breathe.

We take off at a run, praying none of the villagers will beat us there.

"Do you have your pistol?" I ask as our booted feet pound against the cobblestones.

"Yes. You?"

I rip up the hem of my gown and pull the weapon from the holder strapped to my thigh. "Always."

We race around the side of Friedrich's bakery, down a lane that winds into an orchard. We haven't been this way, but I believe it leads to the cottages behind our shop.

But we don't get that far.

A man lies on the ground, shadowed in the twilight. As we race to him, I quickly scan the orchard, looking for our werewolf.

When we reach Hubert, I drop to his side while Felix stands guard. The man is in a bad state, his clothing slashed and blood running from several deep bites and gashes. But still, he's conscious.

"Who was it?" I demand, using the hem of my gown to staunch the flow of blood in the deep wound on his abdomen, though I sense it's too late.

He shakes his head, nearly unconscious. "Still out there."

"I know, and we'll find it. But you must help us," I say urgently. "Think of your daughters."

"Millie," he breathes, his face contorting.

"We'll go after her," I swear. "But, Hubert, please?—"

Suddenly, a massive shadow drops on us from the tree above. The werewolf lands directly on Felix, and I leap to my feet, raising my pistol as the two wrestle.

By wolf standards, it isn't large, but it's muscular. Covered in coarse, thin hair, it looks neither like a wolf nor a human, but a strange blend of the two.

"Shoot it!" Felix yells.

"I can't without risking hitting you!" I say frantically, desperately wishing I had my swords. "Can you pin it?"

"I'll get right on that," Felix growls, narrowly evading the snap of the wolf's teeth near his jugular. The creature has pinned him to the ground now, putting Felix at a significant disadvantage—but making it easier for me to act.

I pull my dagger from my boot and leap, landing on the wolf's back. I attempt to plunge it between its shoulder blades, but werewolf hide is blasted thick, and my hold is awkward. The blade barely knicks the beast before the monster twists around, knocking the dagger to the ground.

The wolf snarls, turning its head to snap at me. Spotting his chance, Felix raises his pistol.

But like I did, he hesitates, the chance of hitting me too great.

"Shoot it!" I command, caring less for my safety than his.

"Get off its back," he yells.

"If I get off its back, it'll kill you."

Taking advantage of our hesitation, the werewolf rolls, crushing me under its weight and sending Felix flying into the trunk of an apple tree with a hard kick of its back leg. He lies still, blood oozing from his temple.

No.

The monster presses its clawed hand to my throat to hold me in place, snarling when I knee it in the stomach.

A shot rings through the air, startling the wolf enough that I can reach for my fallen dagger. My fingertips brush the cold metal hilt. It's so close.

I almost have it.

Almost…

My vision blurs as my hand finally closes around the blade's grip. With the last of my strength, I slash the wolf's arm, desperately hoping the blade will cut through its tough hide.

The monster shrieks, the sound eerily similar to a dog when you step on its tail, and suddenly, I can breathe. I'm vaguely aware of the wolf retreating. There's another shot, followed by a snarl, but all I can do is lie on the ground and gasp in a deep, burning lungful of air.

I leap up once I catch my breath, but it's too late. The werewolf is gone, vanished into the dark forest.

"Felix!" I cry, turning back for him.

He's already dragged himself to his feet. He stumbles over to me, holding his shoulder with his pistol in his hand, one arm hanging at his side.

"Are you all right?" he breathes, dropping his shoulder and wrapping his arm around me.

I nod, coughing several times. "That wasn't my finest hour."

"Nor mine." He holds me tightly, but only with the one arm.

"What's wrong with your shoulder?"

"I think I dislocated it when the wretched monster threw me against the tree."

"Is that why you missed twice?" I manage to tease, thankful he's alive.

Felix might not realize it, but we faced my greatest fear and made it through. Together, we fought a werewolf, and Felix is still breathing.

He laughs out a groan. "I grazed its shoulder the second time."

There's a holler from down the lane, and I quickly hide my weapons. It's one thing for Felix to carry a pistol, but another for his demure wife to be armed.

"Hubert," I breathe, realizing I forgot about him.

Felix turns toward the man as I say his name and then whirls back as if unprepared. Even in the night, it's a gruesome sight. "Is he…?"

"I don't see how he couldn't be," I say soberly, and then I check for a pulse even though his eyes are open and unseeing. Then I rise, shaking my head. "He's dead."

Johann and Otis arrive, the first armed with a hunter's crossbow and the second a broom. They carry a lantern, casting an orb of light in the nearly dark orchard.

"You need to act like you're in shock," Felix says quietly, pulling me into him once more. "Can you play the part of a helpless female?"

"It won't be difficult," I say honestly, happily clinging to him. "I'll just press my face into your jacket and be thankful you're alive."

He softens against me and strokes my shoulder, kissing the top of my disheveled hair.

"We didn't get here in time," Felix says to the men when they reach us, his tone heavy and full of remorse.

Johann swears when he sees Hubert.

"You were attacked as well." Otis is unable to look away from Felix's ripped jacket, nor the blood trailing from various wounds on our bodies. "Are you all right?"

I pull away from Felix, blinking at the men. A real tear trails down my cheek—the product of my lingering panic when I saw Felix lying lifeless on the ground.

"Your throat!" Johann exclaims, crossing the space. He holds up the lantern and gasps.

"We heard the scream and went to help," Felix explains. "The wolf attacked while we were trying to give Hubert aid."

"You saw it?" Otis says urgently.

"We did," Felix answers heavily.

"And what was it?"

He looks at me, unsure what answer I want to give them. But they already suspect the truth.

"A werewolf," I say meekly. Then I close my eyes. "It was awful."

And it was. It always is.

"We shouldn't linger out here," Johann says to Otis. "The monster could come back."