Page 17 of The Witch's Werewolf
“No, no, no, no, no!” Alma has gone into full fight-or-flight mode.
“Alma, don’t panic,” I hiss, reaching for her arm. “You got this. Use one of your spells?—”
The shadowy figure jumps down out of the trees. Or it glides and lands about twenty feet from us. The shadows that form his shape recede, and his true form appears. He’s tall, well-dressed, with a sharp-edged face that could cut glass. And he’s not looking at us.
“Well? Cat got your tongue? You know they’re gonna catch you and hang your canine carcass in the town square if they catch you,” the tall, pale man says.
What in the world—oh…oh, no.
He’s looking past us, talking to someone standing behind us.
I don’t have to glance over my shoulder to know that it’s Timber he’s speaking to.
“Alma, you’re not in danger here,” I say, my voice shaking.
The witch beside me manages to extricate a vial of liquid marked “holy water” from her purse and pulls the cap off with shaking hands. “Get away from me, vamp!”
The man, whom I now am sure is Finnegan, turns his gaze in annoyance in our direction. “What do we have here? A couple of rabbits out for a walk at night? Itching to get eaten, are we?”
The raspy voice behind us snarls, “Finn, leave them alone.”
I swallow hard and turn my head. It’s Timber, half man, half wolf. He bares his fangs as he addresses his friend.
“You brought friends? Listen, old man, I’ve got enough holy water for both of you,” Alma warns.
The vampire turns his gaze to my fellow witch. Something flickers in his eyes, like he wants to say something important. But then he fixes his stony face. “I’m afraid that won’t work on a werewolf.”
She turns to me, her body trembling and her breath puffing out in white clouds. “W-werewolf?”
“It’s okay, Alma! He won’t hurt you!”
Finnegan laughs. “Don’t be too sure about that.”
Alma screams and runs back in the direction of the witch’s village. “Alma! Don’t run!”
I have to stop her. Running away will only trigger the wolf. And who knows, it might also amuse the vampire to give chase.
I drop the basket and take off after Alma, following her up the trail toward the witch’s colony.
I don’t turn around to see if anyone’s following me. I know better.
Timber is right on my heels.
On and on I run, trying to keep eyes on Alma.
Until she vanishes. And not by taking a path leading into denser woods. She vanishes in thin air. One moment, she’s there, and then, poof. Gone.
As if she magicked herself away.
I come to a halt, because what is the point of continuing if I don’t see her, hear her, or sense her presence anywhere?
“Alma!” I scream.
But it’s no use. She’s simply gone. Not even a lingering aura.
I scamper across the forest floor in the direction of Colony Hill, hoping to find her there, safe and sound.
It’s over half a mile away yet, and the wolf is still chasing me.
