Pity Fador isn’t here. He would have gotten a kick out of it too. Michael could have easily taken out the four hunters, even during the day, but he knew better than to try that at the moment. They couldn’t risk alerting anyone to the impending attack, and taking these men out would put the compound on high alert. Just what we don’t need. It still galled him.
“Well, I’ve seen enough. Better phone this in. See what Mr. Smith thinks about it.”
“What about the bodies?”
“What about ‘em? You don’t think he’s gonna want us to drags these damned things up with the other customers in there, do ya? Better just leave them for now. Find out what Mr. Smith. wants us to do with them first.”
Michael melted into the woods and watched them leave, taking grim satisfaction from the scent of fear that wafted after them like a cloud. He waited for several more minutes before winding a path back to the beach.
I can imagine what Mr. Smith is going to think about us blowing up what’s left of his operation here. He chuckled at that, reaching the tree line just in time to see Amber slipping into her dress before walking into the shelter of the stones. That stopped him dead in his tracks. It was fairly obvious what she and Fador had been doing. He could smell their copulation on the air. A sudden anger rose in him bringing him it a low-throated growl and bristling back hair. He sat back on his haunches.
What the hell am I doing? We’ve shared everything our whole life. Why the hell should she be any different? Somehow, she was. He knew he would keep her all to himself if he could, and that disturbed him even more then smelling their copulation, seeing her body language as she walked into the shadow of the shelter where Fador sat waiting.
His thoughts were pulled back to that day their fates had entwined with that of the wolf.
They’d spotted it at the same time, that impossibly large, impossibly white wolf. It’s icy stare held an intelligence, a wisdom, and a hatred he had never encountered before in man or beast and when it turned to run he found himself giving chase even as he willed his legs to stop. He loosed arrow after arrow, just as Fador did, praying each time that the wolf would fall to his blow but filled with a horror and fear of what would happen if it did.
He ran until his lungs hurt, until his pants and shirt were hopelessly torn and his boots soiled, but even though his legs stung from the effort, he couldn’t stop himself. Deeper and deeper into the woods they ran, further than either man had ever been, into the oldest part of the forest where the trees refused to allow sunlight to touch the forest floor. There, they came at last to an foggy glen, the full moon shining down.
It wasn’t night time. It couldn’t have been. We couldn’t possibly have been running that long….
But the moon had been there and neither man could deny it’s presence. They stopped in the middle, and Michael knew the fear he saw in Fador’s eyes was mirrored on his own face. The spell was broken and they looked all around, but the wolf was nowhere to be seen, hidden by the thick fog or simply gone altogether.
Michael had been the first to turn to leave, Fador standing still, rooted to the spot. When he turned to call after him to follow, Michael froze in horror as the mist rose and swirled in front of Fador, as the white wolf came flying out and pulled Fador down.
He heard a scream but never knew where the broken sound came from, whether from his own lungs or Fador’s. Rushing back those few steps to his brother, he fell to his knees beside him, meeting again those flashing blue eyes. The wolf tore at his throat, leaving him lying, bleeding beside his dying brother. The world seemed to spin and finally went black. When they awoke, they knew. They just knew what had happened, why their lives had been spared.
Chosen as guardians. Cursed to protect what we worked so hard to destroy. It’s all the same thing. And
“Well, I’ve seen enough. Better phone this in. See what Mr. Smith thinks about it.”
“What about the bodies?”
“What about ‘em? You don’t think he’s gonna want us to drags these damned things up with the other customers in there, do ya? Better just leave them for now. Find out what Mr. Smith. wants us to do with them first.”
Michael melted into the woods and watched them leave, taking grim satisfaction from the scent of fear that wafted after them like a cloud. He waited for several more minutes before winding a path back to the beach.
I can imagine what Mr. Smith is going to think about us blowing up what’s left of his operation here. He chuckled at that, reaching the tree line just in time to see Amber slipping into her dress before walking into the shelter of the stones. That stopped him dead in his tracks. It was fairly obvious what she and Fador had been doing. He could smell their copulation on the air. A sudden anger rose in him bringing him it a low-throated growl and bristling back hair. He sat back on his haunches.
What the hell am I doing? We’ve shared everything our whole life. Why the hell should she be any different? Somehow, she was. He knew he would keep her all to himself if he could, and that disturbed him even more then smelling their copulation, seeing her body language as she walked into the shadow of the shelter where Fador sat waiting.
His thoughts were pulled back to that day their fates had entwined with that of the wolf.
They’d spotted it at the same time, that impossibly large, impossibly white wolf. It’s icy stare held an intelligence, a wisdom, and a hatred he had never encountered before in man or beast and when it turned to run he found himself giving chase even as he willed his legs to stop. He loosed arrow after arrow, just as Fador did, praying each time that the wolf would fall to his blow but filled with a horror and fear of what would happen if it did.
He ran until his lungs hurt, until his pants and shirt were hopelessly torn and his boots soiled, but even though his legs stung from the effort, he couldn’t stop himself. Deeper and deeper into the woods they ran, further than either man had ever been, into the oldest part of the forest where the trees refused to allow sunlight to touch the forest floor. There, they came at last to an foggy glen, the full moon shining down.
It wasn’t night time. It couldn’t have been. We couldn’t possibly have been running that long….
But the moon had been there and neither man could deny it’s presence. They stopped in the middle, and Michael knew the fear he saw in Fador’s eyes was mirrored on his own face. The spell was broken and they looked all around, but the wolf was nowhere to be seen, hidden by the thick fog or simply gone altogether.
Michael had been the first to turn to leave, Fador standing still, rooted to the spot. When he turned to call after him to follow, Michael froze in horror as the mist rose and swirled in front of Fador, as the white wolf came flying out and pulled Fador down.
He heard a scream but never knew where the broken sound came from, whether from his own lungs or Fador’s. Rushing back those few steps to his brother, he fell to his knees beside him, meeting again those flashing blue eyes. The wolf tore at his throat, leaving him lying, bleeding beside his dying brother. The world seemed to spin and finally went black. When they awoke, they knew. They just knew what had happened, why their lives had been spared.
Chosen as guardians. Cursed to protect what we worked so hard to destroy. It’s all the same thing. And
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