It was the howling wolf that woke me.
There’re no wolves here, my sleeping mind reminded me.
Despite this succinct fact, the wolf maintained its howl. I had the unnerving impression that the wild canine was sitting on my head while it sang its song into my ear.
“Good heavens,” I muttered, “why can’t beasts leave me alone until sunrise at least?”
I peeled an eyelid open and stared into the eyes of a glowing wolf.
My wolf energy.
A by-product of a werewolf bite, the energy form tended to appear when I perceived a threatening force. I’d developed the habit of banishing it whenever it should present itself, as it was the cause of my first husband’s demise.
On the positive side, the wolf had defended me against Koki. And thanks to my witch mother’s early application of anti-venom, I wasn’t prey to the whims and influence of a full moon. In actual fact, I wasn’t capable of transforming into a werewolf even if I wanted to, which I didn’t; I couldn’t abide by the stench or the shedding hair.
“What,” I mumbled to the wolf.
It sat back, staring expectantly at me. Only then did it dawn on me that I was no longer in my bed, or in my bedroom for that matter. I did however recognize where I was, and that was decidedly not good at all.
“Hello?” I asked as I stood as best I could in an environment where there was no up or down.
The wolf yipped and padded away, the only source of light in a void where possessed souls languish. I shivered, wondering if I’d hear Mrs. Cricket’s cackle, and followed the wolf through the dark silence.
Had my body been possessed by another malevolent spirit? The last (and, I should point out, the only) time that had happened to me, Mrs. Cricket had sent me into an emptiness disturbingly similar to the current one I found myself in.
But you couldn’t remember anything, I thought, hoping this was a reassuring observation. You couldn’t even remember your name, which is Beatrice Knight. Don’t forget that.
I sniffed, the sound muffled. My wolf energy ignored me, following a path that only it could perceive.
“I jolly well hope you’re leading me to an exit,” I told it, “or at least a civilized location that serves tea.”
“Beatrice?”
The wolf halted, its glowing form illuminating Lilly. She too was in her nightclothes and appeared as decidedly uneasy as I felt.
“Beatrice, what are you doing here?” she asked, reaching a hand out to me.
“Oh, you know how it is,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. “I do find it refreshing to take a midnight stroll through the land of the possessed. And you?”
She pursed her lips, unimpressed with my attempt at frivolity. “This is my nightmare, not yours.”
“Well, if that’s your attitude,” I retorted, “then let me be off to find my own personal hell and leave you to yours.”
“Bee, this is serious,” she said and she clung onto my hand. “How did you even find this place?”
“I didn’t,” I informed her, weary of the conversation and wondering if I could pinch myself to wake up. “One minute I was sound asleep. The next, I was here with you and my wolf.”
“You’re still asleep,” she said.
“And you’re also with me,” another voice added.
Lilly and I glanced about as another form entered the small sphere of light cast by my wolf energy.
“Gideon?” Lilly asked, a rather redundant question given that it was clearly he.
Gideon ignored her and scowled at me, clearly vexed by my presence. “This is rather singular,” he said. His voice was at normal speaking volume, not the whisper he was limited to when out in the real world, and he seemed as solid as Lilly and I. I was tempted to touch him, but restrained the urge, for I doubted he would tolerate such attention from me.
“Indeed,” I replied.
Locking his hands behind his back, he inquired, “Is this where murderers spend their evenings then?”
“I don’t know,” I countered. “Whom did you kill?”
“Oh dear,” Lilly said in a sigh.
“Certainly not my spouse,” Gideon said with a sneer.
“Neither did I,” I said. “You might want to take that issue up with my wolf,” and I gestured to the offending party.
“Convenient,” Gideon said, clearly not convinced.
Since I had his attention and none of us were going anywhere, I pressed on. “And while we’re on the topic of spouses, you should know I mean to acquire another one.”
Glowering at me, he said nothing.
“Mr. Timmons and I…”
“What? That ill-bred rascal?” he interrupted. “I thought you had better taste than that.”
“Well, I married you, didn’t I?” I countered.
“Precisely my point,” he replied.
“Enough,” Lilly said, stepping between us. “We’re here because we were all at one point or another possessed by Mrs. Cricket.”
This notion put an end to the heated dialogue, although I was certain that chapter wasn’t yet finished. Gideon spun about and stalked away but didn’t go far into the darkness.
“Lilly?”
It was Mr. Elkhart, but his voice was distant and had an echo to it. Lilly gazed about.
“He’s trying to wake me,” she said. She turned to face me, grabbing my hands. “Come find me tomorrow, Bee. There’s something of great urgency I need to convey to you…”
“Lilly?”
The voice was stronger; the darkness quivered, cracks forming high above us. My wolf howled and the cracks expanded.
“Wake up, Lilly,” Mr. Elkhart’s voice boomed and the world shook.
“Lilly, I don’t believe we’re in Mrs. Cricket’s creation this time,” I said even as she began to fade before me. “We…”
I woke up in my bed. Lilly, Gideon and the wolf were gone.