Howling Bonds

10

“While it won’t entirely lift the curse, it will improve her condition. Please let me try,” I pleaded. “Even if I were a member of the Fevre Claw, I wouldn’t kill someone in a hospital. Who would be stupid enough to do that?”

She nodded and turned sideways, allowing me to follow. So I walked toward Lydia’s bed, clutching the werewolf claw. Emilia pursed her lips and studied me as if I were holding a bomb.

I placed the bone on Lydia’s chest. Her breathing became violent, and she opened her eyes, glancing at me before turning to Emilia. The woman seemed weak and appeared to have suffered a massive shock.

“Emilia…” she whispered, her voice sounding dry and raw. “I’m an actual witch, dammit.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Emilia’s shock was evident when her body jerked in surprise, but Lydia had already passed out again.

CHAPTER 5

EMILIA

A

few hours ago, I realized something absurd had destroyed my life. I had read Malinowski, Fraser, and Neil Gaiman when I was in college, and thought the days of animal cults had passed. Only anthropology professors talked about such folklore.

But it was all true, the tramp’s smoking black paws, the pale, unconscious Lydia in front of me—who was a witch—and the werewolf Nell beside me, who had just escaped from my stabbing. I could smell the sweet scent of cinnamon in this tiny ward, the orange peels drying in the sunset, and a tangy scent, like a peculiar Oriental spice. Nell attributed the smell to the wolves’ pheromones, but he refused to disclose the reason for their release. His face scrunched and turned red, like smelling mercaptan spray from a skunk.

A gray-green curtain separated us from Lydia's hospital bed on the outside, detaching us from her. The sound of an IV drip, cool and sedate, was the only thing heard in the room. The doctor informed us that the status was not life-threatening for now, but they didn’t know when she would wake up. He inspected the instruments next to Lydia’s bed and departed the room.

Left alone outside the ward, I watched Nell pulling out his cell phone. He’s quite good-looking, with messy hair, wearing a brown sweater, and gray jeans, and didn’t look like a man who needed to contemplate. But he was indeed thinking. In his gray-blue eyes, I found something else, like a river on a hot summer day, or before a rainstorm, muddy and calm. There was something swirling beneath the river—a storm churning.

Lydia’s vitals showed she was doing a little better, although she hadn’t woken up yet. I acknowledged the recklessness of assaulting a potential teammate. And besides, Nell was trying to save someone—he cared about Lydia as much as I did, and perhaps all of Tacoma’s victims.

“Nell, I’m sorry for trying to slit your throat with the chip. There’s been so much going around these days, my company’s close to collapsing. It’s a mess everywhere. I should have thought of that. You’re not the most dangerous werewolf in Tacoma.”

“I understand.” His eyes on me were unsettling. “To be honest, I always wished I was.”

“You’re healing fast, though.” My gaze fell to the side of his neck, where the wound was now almost invisible. “Are all werewolves like that? You guys are so lucky.”

Nell shrugged. “No one would consider themselves lucky, except for the elders who are as old as the hills. They used to hold me down under the sacred tree to pray. It was all cut and dried, gods and ancestors’ stuff.”

“I can’t figure out why those rogue wolves want revenge on human society. Your life is good enough without leaky dishwashers, credit card bills, student loans, and overtime work from day to day.” I let out a sigh. “If I wasn’t poor as a church mouse, I’d like to be a werewolf, eating roast meat and feasting all night long, fighting my enemy to the death. The tribal elders would give me a stone carving of the Upland with a line on it: “Don't Steal My Sacrifice.”

“Steal the sacrifice? Where did you get such a good idea?” Nell gave me a mischievous smile, as if he had thought of a way to give the elders a little shock, and his eyes sparkled. “That’s not the point. I mean, who the hell are those people attacking Lydia? Why would they do that?”

“All the werewolves in Tacoma who committed crimes belonged to the same gang, the Fevre Claws. Their own clans expelled some of them, and others wanted to enter human society.” Nell rubbed his nose and sat upright. “They found the witches, took a potion called Elixir, but they went a little too far.”

“Why would they take this drug? To solve the little furry problem of transforming every full moon?”

“That’s pretty much it. They’ve all but converted to the traditions and morals of human society in order to fit in. Finding their werewolf nature is a little… hurtful, so they take witch potions to curb it.”

“And what happened then?”

“The after-effects destroy them. It won’t just strip them of their werewolf abilities, it can also drive them into a frenzy,” he said. “Without their superhuman strength and speed, they become reckless and erratic creatures, with no regard for themselves or others.”

“They could lose their jobs and ruin their lives,” I mused.

“Yes. They tried their best to integrate into human society, but failed. When the potion wears off after a few days, they are back to square one, or even worse. It makes them realize how powerless they are, and some of them go berserk from the shock and end up attacking innocent people.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. “So that’s why they’re attacking Lydia?”

“Lydia is special. They’ve been searching for witches and forcing them to make the elixir. It’s possible they’re trying to reclaim their lost power and return to their former status. But they can never succeed in human society; their attacks won’t bring them anything but shame and isolation.” He shook his head. “They should have understood from the start that it’s too difficult to fit in there… no matter how hard we try.”

“But why are they targeting my boss, T-Mobile’s chief executive and project manager? Is it to get revenge on successful people in human society?” I asked in disbelief. “In Bellevue, in Tacoma, hospitals were filling up with these rich people the last few days.”

Nell nodded. “They sought successful, powerful people to vent their vengeful anger upon. They wanted to take away the wealth and power that others have, but can never attain themselves.”