Shadow of the Wolf

Lana wasted a moment wishing Kerry had followed her, but her friend had been flirting with a very hot male stripper, and Lana hadn’t wanted to interrupt. If she’d known that the small spike of unease she’d felt just before heading out would lead to a broken-down car in the middle of freaking nowhere, she would have plastered herself to Kerry’s side. And no matter how badly she wanted to, she couldn’t just “zap” the Beetle no matter how much she might want to. She stood a good chance of doing even more damage that way. “Fixing” anything mechanical usually ended in a disaster of epic proportions, especially since she had a bad tendency to get angry when it didn’t work.

Anger and witchcraft just didn’t mix well.

And why the fuck had Kelly, Kerry’s twin, picked some place so far off the beaten path to have her bachelorette party anyway? Who heard of a male strip club so far out in the boondocks? Kelly the Crazy, that’s who. She just hoped Kelly’s fiance didn’t get wind of the lap dance Kerry had bought for her, because odds were good it wouldn’t be Kelly who got into trouble. Dennis and Kerry got along about as well as dogs and fleas.

Kerry lived to annoy the straight-arrow Dennis, and Dennis tolerated Kerry only for Kelly’s sake.

One thing she could say about the man, he did love Kelly more than anyone or anything. That, and the happiness she saw in her twin’s eyes, made Kerry much more pleasant than she could be towards the man. The last guy Kelly had dated hadn’t fared nearly so well. She’d put an entire fifteen ounce bottle of Jean Nate after bath splash into the man’s Listerine.

It had gone downhill from there. Kerry had the pictures to prove it.

A shock of thunder caused her to jump. With a sigh, she pulled out her cell phone.

Hopefully she’d be able to get a tow truck despite the storm and the late hour. Hell, if Kerry was still available, maybe Lana could pry her away from the prime beef she’d been plastered to long enough to lend a hand.

She flipped the phone open and stared at the distinct lack of phonage. How could the battery be dead? The stupid thing was plugged in! Lana made sure to keep it in the car charger… She fumbled around, finally finding the end of the cord in the pitch black car.

Well, shit. The plug was loose in the outlet. It may have been in the charger, but it sure hadn’t been charging.

Isn’t this the part where the spooky music is supposed to start?

With a weary groan, Lana opened her door. The heavens opened up above her, pouring rain down on her outstretched arm, soaking it in seconds. Oh yeah. Cue the music. All the night needed was a scary black figure at the end of the road.

She glanced back, unable to help herself. Road clear.

Reaching into her back seat, she pulled out her umbrella. It refused to open. When she finally forced it open, the wind plucked it right out of her hands and sent it flying into the dark, wet night.

Lana glared up into the storm. “Are you trying to tell me something? I mean, you’ve got my attention!”

Lightning, quickly followed by thunder, answered her.

No car, no phone, no umbrella, and a nice long walk back to the strip joint in the pouring rain. Maybe I should stay put and wait for a cop. Isn’t that what they say to do if your car breaks down? And isn’t that what I’d be yelling at the screen right now?

Of course, I’d also be thinking that the poor girl was pretty much toast either way.

Especially if this was the beginning of the movie, cause that would mean I wasn’t the heroine. She wasn’t the heroine. Whatever.

Once again, lightning and thunder answered her. There was a definite Move! vibe to the air that had her instincts howling at her much like the wind was. And one thing Lana almost always did was listen to her instincts.

She glanced around the dark interior of the car. Because this is what happens when I don’t. Thunder rumbled overhead, ominous, the air heavy with the threat of the next lightning strike.

Okay, okay, I get the message!

Lana grabbed her purse and keys and got out of her car. She started walking, heading away from the night club. Why she was being prodded in the opposite direction she had no clue, but she was done ignoring the fates tonight. With any luck the powers that be would eventually let her know where she was going, but she wasn’t about to hold her breath. Apparently she’d done something to piss off the Karma police. She just hoped her punishment was nothing worse than a bad cold.

* * *

Christopher returned from an early evening run, refreshed and oddly jubilant. He loved running in the woods, but tonight somehow felt different.

He felt his familiar’s tug when he crossed the boundaries of his property. He stepped, naked and human, onto the back porch. Reaching for the jeans he’d left on the glass topped patio table, he stopped at Alasdair’s meow. The heavens opened up and drenched him before he could even finish unfolding them. Shivering in the cooler air, he quickly abandoned the damp jeans and stepped into the house.

Alasdair appeared, his tail quivering high in the air. He rubbed himself against Christopher’s calf before running towards the crystal Christopher used for scrying. A quick peek into his workroom showed that the two candles were finally touching.

After a month of waiting, his mate was finally here.

Christopher sat at his desk, swallowing to calm himself. She was here, within his reach. For the first time in his life his hands were shaking from nerves. He stared at the crystal ball, eager to finally see his mate. All of the preparation spells for scrying where already long in place, just requiring an activation spell. With a wave of his hand, he muttered,

“By the power earth and fire,

Show to me my heart’s desire.

By the power of air and sea,

As I will so mote it be.”

Mist swirled briefly within the ball, clearing abruptly. Christopher’s eyes widened when he saw his chosen mate for the first time.

Goddess, she’s beautiful.

But the more he watched, the more he knew something was very, very wrong.

* * *

Lana slogged through the woods, grumpy as hell. She’d followed the road for about half a mile before the urge to leave it had overcome her. Following her instincts she’d gone to the right, into the woods, rather than to the left, where the ground was more open.

Something felt very wrong about being in the open right now, something that would leave her … vulnerable. Enough so that she was willing to go into a wooded area during a thunderstorm.

Not your brightest move to date. If the lightning didn’t get her, whatever was hunting her would.

She was thoroughly soaked, her shoes squished when she walked, her hair was a bedraggled mess, and she knew her mascara was running down her face. She wiped the moisture away, not that it did any good. With any luck she’d strike just the right note of pathetic to get some help. Hopefully, someone was nearby who would take pity on such a sucky night and give her a hand. Or a phone. Or a hand holding a phone.

Hell, while we’re wishing for miracles, a cup of hot chocolate would be nice, too.

Lana shivered, her teeth chattering in the cold autumn rain. Her booted feet kept slipping on the wet leaves, the three inch heels definitely not meant for hiking in rain-drenched forests. She was lucky she hadn’t broken her ankle yet, but she had to keep moving. Her internal trouble radar was pinging like mad, urging her forward, her fear spiking until all she wanted to do was run.

She was being hunted.

She didn’t hear, or see, a thing, but she knew something was behind her.