Jake shifted on the couch while Daniel slept soundly next to him. He’d promised to let the little guy stay up to watch the New Year’s ball drop, but had known he wouldn’t make it, of course. He’d been out by nine, leaving Jake sitting with a tiny pair of feet jammed in his ribs.
Sighing, he turned off the TV and gathered his son in his arms. Daniel muttered something incoherent and nestled into Jake’s shoulder. Nearly midnight, and a fat, silver moon shown in through the open blinds. It reflected off the snowdrifts outside, making the entire landscape glow.
Jake stood there for a minute, looking out. Daniel’s feet dangled like the slender limbs of a sapling, but he held on fiercely, even in sleep. Rubbing his son’s back, Jake stared into the darkness and wondered for the thousandth time where Aimee had gone. Wondered if she was okay, if she’d be back.
He’d been so mad at first, so furious at what he’d considered the worst kind of betrayal, that he hadn’t been able to see past it. But as the nights stretched into a week, he’d grown less angry and more overcome with questions. Why had this happened? How could it be real? Knowing what he did now, where would he go from here?
He tilted his head back and looked up at the moon. It hung in the night sky as if suspended by an invisible string. Jake swallowed hard, blinking at its frozen beauty. The desolate loveliness.
Emotionally, this past week had been nothing less than hell. But of all the things he’d been feeling, misery trumped them all. Pain over losing Lizzie. Pain over losing Aimee. The loss of each so different, but acutely the same. Because each carried with it an element of the unreal. Of a nightmare come to life.
Lizzie was gone, and she wasn’t coming back. Aimee was very much alive, but she might not be coming back either. Not after how he’d treated her. He’d seen it written all over her face—she’d been petrified of telling him. Fearing what? Rejection? Distain? Loathing? He’d pretty much delivered all those and more.
And he hated himself for it.
He stared at the moon a minute longer. Daniel breathed against his neck in soft, comforting huffs. Like it always did at night, the cottage seemed to whisper to him in creaks and pops of wooden floorboards, and doorways that arched over rooms so empty it broke his heart. He and Lizzie had always planned on more kids. They’d wanted a houseful. A life of chaos and joy. That’s what they’d hoped for.
But now she was gone, and he was left to start another life. One where the memories of her would have to provide enough comfort for the future. Lizzie would never have wanted him to be alone, he knew that. She would have wanted him to fall in love again. And he had. So unexpectedly, so hard, that he reeled in its wake.
At the thought of Aimee, his chest tightened. After she’d told him what she’d become, he hadn’t known what the hell to do. There wasn’t a protocol for how to act when your girlfriend revealed she wasn’t entirely human. He’d read his grandfather’s book again though. Cover to cover and with an open mind. He wasn’t surprised to find that this time around, it read less like a story and more like a textbook. He’d let it settle, all of it. And now, standing there with his son in his arms, he ached for Aimee. Everything that she was. Everything that he understood about her, and everything he didn’t yet. He wanted her back there where she belonged.
Daniel shifted on his chest, and Jake turned reluctantly away from the window.
“Happy New Year, Daddy,” he murmured.
“Happy birthday,” he said as he carried Daniel back to his room. “I love you, son.”
* * * *
Jake woke with a start. He’d been dreaming about Aimee again. Only this time she hadn’t been in the cave beckoning. She’d been in a meadow filled with wildflowers. She’d worn a yellow sundress, and her feet were bare. Her back was turned, and he’d been calling to her. Calling for her to come back. Pleading. But she’d kept walking. Out of the meadow and through the trees, until she was gone…
He sat up with a familiar pain in his chest, and rubbed his eyes. They felt like sandpaper.
Looking over, he blinked at the clock on the bedside table, which flashed like the power had gone off at some point. 3:24 AM.
He sat perfectly still and listened, feeling off-kilter, like something had woken him. But what? The house was quiet. Nothing from outside, not even a breeze against the shutters. But despite all that, his skin crawled.
He waited a minute longer then threw his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as his feet hit the frigid, wood floor.
He looked around the moonlit bedroom. Nothing out of place. Nothing strange or off-putting. But goosebumps sprouted along his arms anyway. They marched up his neck and onto his scalp like something alive.
Standing, he grabbed a t-shirt from the chair and pulled it over his head. Then he walked as quietly as he could into the hallway to look into Daniel’s room.
There he was, sound asleep, his teddy bear in a chokehold. Jake stood there for a long second and listened. Nothing.
With one more look at his son, he turned and continued down the hall toward the living room. The floorboards squeaked underneath him, setting his teeth on edge.
The house was dim, but the moonlight illuminated the dark shadows of the furniture. He made his way toward the lamp by the couch, trailing his fingers absentmindedly along the desk in the corner. A few boxes from the cabin sat on top, but otherwise, everything was exactly as it should be.
So why did every nerve in his body tingle?
He stepped onto the area rug and caught a movement at the corner of his eye. Pulse tapping, he turned.
There on the floor, crouched Dante. His ears lay flat against his head, a low growl rumbling inside his small chest.
“Damn,” he breathed. “You scared the crap out of me.”
He reached out and turned on the lamp.
The cat gave no indication that he’d heard his owner’s voice. Instead, he blinked in the new light, looking toward the other side of the living room. Watching him, Jake’s skin prickled. Dante usually slept with Daniel. He never wandered the house at night.
Slowly, Jake turned. His entire body felt stiff, as if ready for something, but he didn’t know what. His gaze followed the cat’s line of vision to the front door. It looked closed from where he stood, but there was an unmistakable draft that whispered against the hair on his bare legs. He took a cautious step forward. Then another, narrowing his eyes at the door.
It was open.
“What the…”
Jake reached for the doorknob, but froze as something massive stepped from the shadows to his left.
His mouth went dry. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t. The muscles in his legs trembled with the effort of keeping his body upright. His brain could only form one coherent thought at that instant. Daniel…
Something stood there, something his rational mind couldn’t comprehend. Because his rational mind didn’t believe in monsters. At least not before last week.
Now, from some deep, dark corner of his brain, he heard a faint whisper. You’ve always known…you’ve always known…
And as he struggled to understand the words, the meaning of them, the thing in his living room took a step forward.
His heart slammed in his chest; sweat crawled down his temples.
The thing lifted its black snout and opened its mouth to taste the air. It kept its yellow eyes trained on Jake. Its jaw hung slack, revealing long, white incisors that each came to a sickening point.
He tilted his head back, staring up at it. Not a dream. He wasn’t waking up. He smelled the beast’s fur, wet and sour. He heard the sliding of its paws on the floor, how the nails clicked on the hardwood.
This was real.
Daniel…Daniel…Daniel… His son’s name kept running through his head like a skipping CD.
Jake worked his hands loose from the fists they’d made, wiggling his fingers until they began to tingle again with blood flow. He forced an even breath, knowing if he didn’t, he might pass out. And still the creature watched, towering over him like a Sasquatch, its eyes narrowing, lips curling back as it took another breath.
Jake tried to think. The shotgun. It was all the way on the other side of the room, locked in the gun cabinet. And the key was…the key was… Jake struggled to remember.
The thing in front of him lowered its massive head. At the movement, Jake’s chest heaved, his muscles tightened, screaming with the instinct to turn and run. But something else told him to stay absolutely still. To hold his ground as long as possible.
A knife… A pocket knife, kitchen knife, anything. He wracked his brain, shifting his gaze to the other side of the room where the fire tools lay. Ten feet away maybe? He could try it. But he didn’t think he’d be fast enough. Not even close. And what if it caught him? What then? It was imperative that he stay alive long enough to protect his son.
Daniel…Daniel…
The creature began swinging its head from side to side. Slowly. Never taking its eyes off Jake. It reminded him of a grizzly bear. But there was a distinct intelligence behind those eyes that was a thousand times scarier than any wild animal. A human intelligence. Calculating. Cold. Full of rage.
It waited, seeing what its prey would do next.
Your move, Jake.
He glanced at the gun cabinet across the room. At that, the beast stopped moving. It stood motionless as Jake looked carefully back at it. They stared at each other in the eerie silence of the room. He prayed Daniel wouldn’t wake up. That he would stay in his bedroom, safe and warm. Never to know what had come into their house on the morning of his fourth birthday.
A weapon, he thought. Something…anything… He mentally listed everything within his reach. The couch…the lamp table…the desk. Jake blinked.
The desk. It sat right behind him. The boxes from the cabin lay stacked on top. And in one of those was his grandfather’s antique letter opener. Long. Sharp. Silver. If a silver bullet could do the trick in horror movies, he prayed this would have the same effect.
On the floor to his right, Dante let out a hiss, followed by a low, feral growl. Poor Dante. He’d forgotten all about the cat. The creature looked down at the cat, its lips curling away from its fangs.
Seeing an opportunity, Jake stepped back. As he did, Dante hissed again. Then the cat screeched, and before Jake knew what had happened, launched himself into the air. He landed on the beast’s neck like a Tasmanian devil, sinking his needle-like teeth into flesh. The creature bellowed in fury.
Daniel…
Jake whipped around and reached for the first box, tearing it open and spilling the contents on the desktop. Books, papers, pens, paperweights… No letter opener.
Heart pounding, he threw the box aside and tore at the second one, just as something hit the wall to his right with a sickening thud. He looked over to see Dante in a little heap below the window. Jake registered this as bile rose in his throat. Will we all die here tonight? Will my son be next?
He heard the beast step forward. It shook the floor. Thwump, thwump. And still he tore through the box with hands that wouldn’t cooperate.
It took another step. Then a sound rose from its throat that sent Jake’s hair on end. Not human. Nor an animal either. It was both. And its anger, an insane rage, was evident. It wanted blood. That’s what it had come there for. It had wanted blood all along.
Jake didn’t have time to wonder if the thing wanted his blood, or his son’s. Because at that moment, the front door exploded inward in a shower of wood splinters. It dangled off its hinges as something stepped past it.
He turned, and so did the beast. Another wolf. This one smaller, its coat an iridescent silver. Jake stared, dumbfounded. The difference between the two creatures was striking, even to his shocked senses. One huge and ugly, the other slender, lithe, a thing of unexpected beauty.
Its golden eyes were round and intelligent, its ears twitching back and forth. It looked from Jake to the beast, and back again.
“Daddy?”
His stomach dropped as he turned to see Daniel standing in the hallway. He clutched his teddy bear, his face the color of ash.
“Daniel,” he hissed. “Run.”
His face crumpled. “No, Daddy.”
The beast swung its giant head in the little boy’s direction, and a sinister growl rumbled inside its chest.
The gray wolf growled back. She lowered her head and pinned her ears back. Her lips peeled away from teeth the color of newly fallen snow. With two long strides, she moved in front of Daniel, positioning herself between him and the monster a few feet away.
Jake trembled. Daniel…Daniel… He pulled in a breath and the heat of it seared his lungs. He didn’t have time to wonder about the other wolf. To fear it even. He stepped in front of his son too, keeping his eyes on the creature in front of them.
“Daniel,” he said again, his voice full of grisly urgency. This was life or death. But it wouldn’t just be death. He knew it would be a horrific death, an excruciating death. Something most people would never be able to comprehend. “Go to your room,” he whispered. “Put on your jacket and open the window. Run as fast as you can to the apartment. There’s a key under the rock by the steps. Go. Now.”
Only four years old. Practically a baby. Jake prayed that he could do this.
“Daddy…”
“Now!”
Sweat trickled down his neck as his son let out a terrified sob. Then after a second, the sound of little feet running back down the hall, followed by a door slamming shut.
The beast’s head jerked up. It opened its mouth and let out a furious bellow. The gray wolf crouched low, stepping in front of Jake. Her fur stood in a stiff ridge down her back. Her powerful haunches were bunched, the muscles tensed and ready.
The black thing lunged at her with another roar, this one rattling the windowpanes and forcing Jake to slap his hands over his ears.
The gray wolf jumped nimbly to the side, her jaws snapping like a steel trap.
Enraged, the beast lunged again, reaching out with thick, muscled arms, swiping with claws that curved like scythes. It knocked over the lamp in the corner, and glass exploded into tiny, sparkling shards.
Again, the gray wolf ducked away, graceful and cunning. Through it all, Jake was aware that she kept the creature’s focus off of him. Buying him time. But to what end? If he followed Daniel, they’d both be trapped in the apartment. And how much protection could he provide from there? None. He needed to fight. To fight with her.
Sure now of how to do that, he turned to the desk again. The third and final box sat precariously on its edge. He tore it open, just as a hideous shriek ripped through the room.
He looked up to see the black beast had latched onto the neck of the other wolf. It shook her in its massive jaws. Blood sprayed from her throat, spattering the walls and furniture. Jake felt warm droplets land on his face and arms. She screamed in pain, struggling to break free from the larger animal’s grip.
Frantic, Jake turned back to the box and dumped the contents on the desk. He pawed through it until he found what he was looking for. There, halfway concealed in the pages of a book, was the letter opener. He reached for it, clutching it like a knife.
Behind him, another shriek. He spun to see the smaller wolf on her back, her fur soaked in blood. Her golden eyes rolled. She kicked and clawed, looking weaker now.
He stood in the middle of the room, sweat pouring down his face, hands shaking like a drug addict.
The black thing looked up, still holding the other wolf by her throat. Its snout was crimson with blood.
“You son of a bitch,” Jake hissed. “You mother fucker.”
The beast growled, its monster eyes narrowing to slits.
“Get out of my fucking house.”
Slowly, it released its prey. She fell to the floor, her body limp. Her hooded eyes were no longer golden. They were growing darker, blacker by the second. They held his gaze in a plea that touched his very soul.
The beast raised itself to its full height. Blood was smeared over its fur like paint. Its mouth was wet with it. Its jaw hung open, its teeth glinting like razor blades in the soft light.
Instead of backing up, Jake took a step forward. The wolf on the floor lifted her head and whined. The blood she lay in was a reflective crimson lake, the scent rising up to choke him.
A deep growl rumbled inside the beast’s chest. And Jake took another step forward. He was close enough to see the whiskers above its lips now. The size of its pupils. The shape of its ears and how they were tipped with fine, white fur.
It smelled like pine needles. Like wet dog. Like death.
Jake thought of Lizzie then. And he knew that as horrific as this thing was, it was not what had killed her. If it had, there simply wouldn’t have been anything left.
The beast stepped around the wolf at its feet, its nails clicking on the floor.
Jake could hear the rush of blood in his veins. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh… The letter opener was warm and slick in his hand. He tightened his grip and it dug into his palm.
He took a deep breath, realizing with a start that he could feel his grandfather’s presence. Suddenly, but painfully clear, it seemed almost like the old man had opened the front door and stepped into the room with him. He felt Lizzie too. Sweet Lizzie. It was as if they were in the air he pulled into his lungs. Calming him. Giving him life. Promising a future.
The beast lifted its giant head and released the most chilling howl Jake had ever heard. It rattled the windows and vibrated the kitchen chairs against the floor. Jake winced as it pierced his eardrums, but he held the letter opener steady. He stood with his feet planted apart, ignoring the burn of sweat dripping into his eyes.
And then it charged.
He was poised, ready to do battle. Raising his fists, he yelled at the top of his lungs at the thing coming for him. All the fury from the last year quaked inside his bones. He thought of Lizzie and how he couldn’t protect her. Of Aimee and how he’d turned his back when she’d needed him most. He thought of his son and how he’d grow up without his mother. All these things raged inside him like a cyclone.
And then, the blow came, directly at his head. Stars exploded behind his eyes. A second, maybe two, before he realized he was no longer on his feet. He’d hit the far wall and lay at an awkward angle.
Move. Move. He forced his eyes open just as the creature descended again. Jake didn’t have time to check to see if anything was broken. He flung himself to the side as the thing hit the wall where he’d just been. It shook its head and turned, its teeth bared in a macabre grin.
Jake squeezed his fist, still clutching the letter opener. He scrambled to his feet, blood trickling from his mouth.
“You want me?” he shouted. “Come and get me, you piece of shit!”
The beast roared. The sound reverberated inside Jake’s chest like thunder. Then it launched itself, and this time it didn’t miss.
Jake felt the horrific brush of fur against his skin, felt the incredible heat of the creature’s body, the muscle and bone that dwarfed his own.
The thing opened its mouth and Jake felt a wave of sour breath against his face. One of his arms was pinned to his side, but the other twitched. He struggled to raise it against the weight pressing down on his chest.
Daniel…Daniel… He thought of his son, thought of him cowering in the apartment across the driveway.
The beast leaned closer. No doubt what it intended. It would rip his throat out.
With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Jake twisted enough to raise his arm. With every bit of strength he had, he pulled his fist back and plunged the letter opener into the creature’s chest.
It screamed in agony. Jake pulled the blade out and plunged it in again. Blood poured from the wound. The flesh sizzled and hissed where the silver had pierced it. The smell of burning hair and skin filled the air.
Jake scrambled back and coughed.
The thing stood upright for another second, swayed, then fell to its knees. It tilted its head back and howled, calling to the moon that hung in the night sky above the cottage. Maybe in the hopes of conjuring up the last of its magic. Or maybe just because it was the only thing left to do.
It whimpered, settling its wounded gaze on Jake, then collapsed on its side. Still.
Jake watched it, trying to pull in a full breath.
The creature shuddered once. Then its yellow eyes glazed, its stare growing empty and cold.
Death comes to us all, Jake thought. Even in fairy tales.
Feeling like he might throw up, he turned to wipe the sweat from his eyes. But before he could blink it away, he froze and dropped his hands to his sides.
There, in the middle of the floor, lay a woman.
Naked, covered in blood.
Aimee.