WolfsBane: A Short Story (Revised 2012)

         Years ago, you would have called me a damsel in distress. My clients call me the damaged chick with the loaded gun. I maintain I’m looking for my Prince Charming in a city full of poisonous frogs. I lost him years ago and it hasn’t stopped raining since. Good for frogs, bad for business. Rain covers too many tracks and too many secrets.

         My name is Megen Frost. I own a relic shop called Mythos Grande. My business is taking care of business. I’m an expert in the things no one wants to know about; wet work, stalking, the occult. I specialize in mythological beasts and burdens. More specifically: killing them.

         I was mortal once. A freelance Angel found me, decided she didn’t like how I was living my life, and intervened. She broke every rule in her goddamn book.

         Now, if you know much about mythology and religion – you know that shouldn’t have worked.

         Oh, it worked. I learned the hard way not to think an Angel was bluffing.

         Amaris was an angel on the run from Heaven. She was hiding in the shadows of gargoyles and gravestones, waiting to find the one person who could free her. All she needed was a soul to call her own and she chose mine.

         She turned me immortal, handed me back a key-ring full of skeleton keys and a locked wooden box. Amaris needed help and she wasn’t the type to ask. The contract was simple: I had been given immortality for as long as it took to get her work done. Few Supernaturals, and fewer mortals, had the power to see magic. I could see it everywhere, and that made me valuable.

         I was to use my immortality to aid the fallen angel. I could not regain my mortality, nor return to my former life, until I had the right key to freedom.

         Every time I used my powers to slay and banish a “beast of burden,” one of the many keys would disappear. If I committed a sin – in the eyes of a fallen angel, there was a lot I could get away with – a key would reappear. Amaris assured me that eventually, the time would come when there was only one beast left and I would know it.

         I thought my days of dealing with a spiteful angel were over. I had two keys left on my key-ring and soon my soul would be returned from that cursed box.

         That’s what I thought, until tonight. Tonight, I walked in to Mythos Grande and found a man I knew as Javid Roberts laying unconscious on my floor. He was naked, covered in fur and bloody patches of skin, with a myriad of silver bullets in his flesh.

         Even through the blood, I recognized him instantly. I hadn’t seen him in over twenty years. He was an older roguish man with sun kissed blonde hair, flirty blue eyes and a strong build. The fur that covered his body was left over from transforming into a werewolf.

         Immediately I shut my store door, flipped the sign on the outside to “closed,” and knelt down to inspect Javid’s bleeding. His attacker was cheap; it’s all that saved his life. The silver was fake. The fur around the bullet wounds was receding even as I started to check over his body.

         The shock, not the silver, had knocked him out of his werewolf form. Examining him brought back memories that probably should have stayed buried. Caresses, embraces, murmured promises. Javid and I had a long past together. I had a lot of questions for him when the time was right.

         I leaned over and brushed the hair from his eyes. Judging by the dried blood and the smell, he had been unconscious for a few hours. He was in bad shape but he looked like he’d survive. I’d waited this long for him to find me, I could wait a few more hours.

         I stood and walked out of the main lobby to my back office. The side door to my store was smashed open. I looked over the damage. Javid had forced his way in, alone. I pulled a clump of clotted hair from the doorway and sighed.

         Mythos Grande had no alarm system that the Missoula Police Department was aware of. I couldn’t have some beat cop coming over if a Vampire decided he didn’t like the blood I sold him. Too many questions. I did happen to have a very sophisticated supernatural alarm system that was not going off.

         That was what bothered me the most. I took another look around the doorway and discovered what was jamming my system.

         It was a half-eaten Moon Apple. Normal eyesight would see a fruit with a slightly purple hue. In my cursed vision, I could see it shifting in reality. It was from the Forest of Dreams, a local tattoo parlor for Werewolves. A building with a past, built right over top of a burnt down Vampire bar.

         The one good thing that came of the fire was the building that replaced it. The Forest of Dreams became the central for Black Market Supernatural needs.

         What are you running from, Javid, that you needed something this illegal?

         The apple was sweeter than I would have liked, but I ate it anyways. No more jamming my security system. The instant the system cleared, the alarm started to blare. Telepathically, I was alerted to a presence in my store. Downstairs. Non or sub-human female carrying an unknown magical weapon.

         Someone had followed Javid inside. The bullet wounds were fresh, he had been attacked while in my store.

         The stairs down to my basement were littered in debris. Glass and paper covered the wooden steps. They were searching for something and I had a pretty good idea of what that might be. The base of the stairs was silent.

         I reached in to the inside pocket of my coat and fished around. I found a cold metal clip and yanked it out. My gun was still empty. I liked to load it on the fly – it makes my heart beat a little faster on my own terms. I removed the empty clip and replaced it with one labeled “unwelcome guests.” I had marked the clip for just this occasion.

         If I didn’t know what I was shooting at, these bullets were cocktails all by themselves. Each bullet was blessed, cursed, hexed, sanctioned and loaded with superstition. It also meant the bullets had an impact reaction I couldn’t predict.

         What didn’t kill them would make their life a living hell. Voodoo, acid, black cat fur – all crammed in one shiny shell. A few silver bullet cases were thrown in for good measure. You can never be too careful. Call me paranoid; I call it being prepared.

         The first floor of Mythos Grande was full of fake relics, meant to gather business. Downstairs, this was where I kept all my real supplies. Someone was here and knew about it.

         I stepped off the base of the stairs and listened. It was deathly quiet. I took two steps towards my bedroom and a woman walked through the doorway.

         She stopped and stared at me. Stringy blonde hair matted her shoulders; her skin was stretched tight over her bones. She was not living and not yet undead. Darkness seemed to pull itself from every corner of the room and wrap around her. The room temperature had dropped visibly. I could see my breath and see that she was not breathing.

         The woman wasn’t my concern; what she held kept my body from moving. She held my soul in her numb hands.

         “I have been looking for you, Miss Roberts. Your friend led me right to you.” Her voice was a whisper.

         My blood turned to ice. So, that’s what Javid was running from. He was looking for me.

         She held a wooden box with a skeleton key hole in the middle. I took a better look at the woman. She wasn’t anyone I had killed before that might have come back. The gun she had used to shoot Javid was strapped to her side. She must have followed him and then waited for me. I noticed she was floating just above the floor. A Banshee, then. I hate Banshees.

         I had never told Javid why I left him. Part of Amaris’ curse, aside from immortality, had also forbid me from seeing him again. Angels, at least all the ones I had met, loved their sense of irony.

         “What do you want?” My pistol was pointed at her chest and I didn’t move. She simply floated in the hallway smiled.

         “Your time is running out, Megen. Come home and we can trade. Your life for all the souls you’ve destroyed.”

         In a thunderous crash, the banshee disappeared. My soul was no longer safe. Javid was looking for me and was attacked. No one knew where I was. Someone had followed him. I needed to know who else had found me.

#

         One advantage of being a werewolf – Javid’s bullet wounds had healed before he woke up.

         “Javid Roberts, you were told specifically never to come looking for me.” I tried my best to look stern. He looked back at me with his tired blue eyes and any resolve I had disappeared.

         “I had to find you, Megen.. I never knew what happened to you.”



         I sighed. The circumstances didn’t matter. If my soul was stolen, I had to get it back. If the box was opened by someone else, I would lose my immortality and if they wanted to, they could release the souls inside. That wasn’t something I could handle.

         “Someone followed you, Javid. I need you to tell me who sold you the Moon Apple. It was bugged, they used you to find me and stole something very important.”

         Javid stretched his arms and cracked sore bones.

         “I'll do you one better. I’ll take you there.

#

         The neon sign was dark. The Forest of Dreams was closed for another hour. The door was unlocked. Cautiously, I checked the skyline. The moon was nearly full. Another night or two and I’d lose him to the beast. As if Javid could hear my thoughts, he spoke before we approached the doorway.

         “Listen, Megen – if it gets heavy in here, I need you to leave. I’m the one that led this thief of a banshee into your place, she’s my responsibility. If I can’t handle this alone, I may need help that I’d rather you not see.” He crossed his arms over his barrel chest. I smiled. The man really had no idea what I’d been doing for the last twenty years.

         “I’ll keep it in mind, love.” I pushed open the door and we walked in. The Forest of Dreams was deserted; no one was expected to show up for another hour. One man stood behind a desk, looking over framed artwork.

         Riordan was larger than I had remembered. His green eyes glittered when he saw me. I smiled. I knew he was the one we were looking for. I heard Javid growl under his breath.

         “Riordan.” I commanded his attention.

         “What can I do for you this fine evening? The moon looks bright in the sky tonight. Business will be good. When we're open.” He flashed me a toothy grin and Javid lost his patience.

         As large as the man was, Javid could move fast. Before I could draw my pistol, his hands were around Riordan’s throat. The men growled at each other as Riordan tried to gain an advantage.

         “--Tell me who you’re working for, Riordan. You set me up.” His grip did not loosen and Riordan’s neck and face were turning red. He was running out of air and patience.

         “That woman killed my family. I was told I’d be rewarded to help acquire the box. They said it held the souls of anyone she’d killed, and they could be returned to me.” His words were forced as he gasped for air. Javid visibly lessened his grip.

         “What box, wolf? Tell me who hired you to follow me!”

         “Never.”

         Riordan laughed with the air he was given and lunged at Javid.

         The two men tumbled past me. I jumped out of the way as they crashed to the wooden floor in a pile of grunts and curses. In a blur of motion I heard bones cracking, saw muscles slam into being and fur deftly cover their limbs. They were transforming mid-battle as they struggled for power on the floor.

         I pressed up against the wall of the tattoo parlor. Javid – now a golden colored werewolf – had blood dripping down his chest and mouth. I watched as he racked his claws deep across Riordan’s chest.

         Riordan shifted from a grizzled man to a black werewolf. His fur was matted with blood and sweat. He howled and snapped back, biting into Javid’s shoulder. In a roar of anger and pain, the fight was over. Javid kicked the wolf across the room into a glass display case. The impact knocked Riordan unconscious.

         Javid was looking at me now and looked angry.

         “Leave. Now.” His voice was labored and guttural.

         I backed away and kept myself pressed against the wall. I walked slowly towards the doorway. Javid’s breathing became labored. It was harder for him to hold on to his humanity. I’d seen it a thousand times, just not with him.

         “I’m leaving, Javid. Don’t kill him. I need him for my keys.” I closed the door behind me and sat on the steps outside the parlor.

         Half an hour passed before the door opened again. Javid had transformed back into his looming self and looked very tired. He stood in the doorway stark naked.

         “He’s still alive?” Javid nodded. I stood up from the steps.

         “Did he say anything?” He shook his head.

         “I softened him up for you, you shouldn’t have any problems getting answers from him now.”

         “Clothes are in the car. Give me ten minutes, I need this key to disappear.”

         “Place opens in twenty. I'd say you've got about five before people start showing up and asking questions.”

         “Then I'll make it five.”

         I walked back into the tattoo parlor. Riordan was propped up against his desk, sitting on the floor. Javid didn’t fatally wound him, but he was obviously in pain. He shifted as if to move away when I approached him.

         “Give me a name.” I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a red velvet pouch. Riordan’s bruised eyes widened slightly. He uttered something through the blood in his mouth. I leaned down very close to his ear.

         “You have dealt with me before, Riordan, you know what I am capable of.” I opened the bag and poured a small amount of Wolfsbane herb into my hand. I held it out for him to see.

         “..Amaris.” The word was very faint. I nodded. I didn’t know what the angel wanted with me, but now I knew who I was looking for. The problem with angels was – they were really hard to kill.

         I only had a few minutes left. I grabbed Riordan’s hair and pulled his head back. Before he could react, I shoved the herb into his mouth and punched him hard in the throat. He started to convulse immediately.

         Riordan was dead before I left the room. One key disappeared from my key-ring. One more beast to go.

         I knew my target, now. All I needed to get was a weapon that could kill an angel. I knew just the place.

         I walked down the steps to the passenger side of the car. Javid was dresssed again and started the vehicle.

         “We’re headed to Kalthasar’s Library.”

#

         The library was older than most buildings left in Missoula. Faded stone gargoyles watched the front door from the second story windows. I could never tell if they were sleeping or dead. We walked the front steps in silence and approached the large wooden doors.

         Kalthasar was sitting just inside the library behind the front desk. He stood up as we approached. He wore sunglasses and an expensive suit. His black hair was ruffled with traces of feathers. He was trying very hard to appear human.

         “I understand you may have something for me, Kalthasar.” The man nodded and took off his sunglasses. His eyes were as dark as midnight, void of any light.

         Kalthasar was a client of mine; definitely not mortal, but he was one person I could trust. He reached behind the desk and lifted a large case onto the desktop. He unlocked the case and opened it so we could see the glittering sword that lay inside.

         “This sword will only work on the angel once she’s mortal. It’s a celestial blade, forged by a higher echelon, a Guardian Angel. It’s blade is dull against anyone else.”

         Javid stared at the sword for a very long time.

         “I know this weapon.” His voice was a whisper. “It belonged to Amaris, she forged it before she fell, when she was still a Guardian.” His eyes stayed on the case.

         “How do you know, Javid?” I held my breath. I didn’t want to know the answer.

         “She was my Guardian Angel. She was cast out when she allowed me to become – this.” He finally looked away and glanced up at the moon.

         “You and the angel have a special bond?” Kalthasar closed the case to the sword. He looked lost in thought.

         “I wouldn’t call it a bond. She was my Guardian Angel, when I was still human. The night I was turned into a Werewolf, she stood aside and let it happen. She was cast out of Heaven and later, I assume she went after Megen.” I nodded as his assumption.

         Kalthasar frowned and his eyes changed from black to white.          “Megen, if she is an angel as you say, how will you make her mortal?”

         I waited for a moment before answering. I wasn’t entirely sure my answer was correct, but it was all I had and I was running out of time.

         “Amaris told me, a long time ago. She could only return to Heaven once I had slain enough evil beasts, she could barter their souls for entry. She said she would be the most vulnerable right before that time was ready. I can only assume she meant when all the keys were gone and both our souls lay bare.”



         “Where do we go now?” Javid’s question was very distant. “She’ll be waiting. She knows the only place I ever called home.” I looked at Javid and hid a sad smile.

         “We’re going to Spokane.” Javid knew the place as well as I did.

#

         My hand instinctively grasped at the cold metal chain hanging around my neck. Dangling between my breasts was a silver skeleton key. It rested against a bite-mark scar and the two were constant reminders of what I had lost so long ago.

         The stairs to the lonely Victorian house were right in front of me. Dead leaves, a broken beer bottle and a discarded pipe decorated the derelict porch. The windows were smashed out, the paint was peeling off. It looked like yet another condemned home in Spokane.          No, this home would have been different. Although the outside of the home was in disrepair, the door was pristine looking. The colored glass in the doorway shifted before my eyes.

         “It’s protected by magic, Javid.” I heard him walk towards me and I tensed. His body loomed behind me. With a gentleness that was surprising, he brushed aside my hair and unclasped the chain. The key fell in to my waiting hand.

         “Let’s hope the key still works.” His calloused fingers slid from my shoulder to neck, tracing a familiar path. I took a deep breath as he closed in to kiss my ear lobe. For a few short seconds, nothing else in the world mattered. The key trembled in my hand and I shook myself back to reality as his mouth pulled away. I felt like I'd been kissed by a ghost.

         Before I opened the door, I had Javid help me strap the sword to my waist. It was lighter than it looked. A sword of glistening glass, made from the tears of gargoyles. The scabbard was polished leather, no doubt the skin of a creature I didn’t want to ask about.

         The key turned and unlocked a door I had never opened. This may have been my old home, but this magical door led somewhere else. Inside was a swirling vortex of magic. I clasped the key around my neck again for safe keeping. I reached blindly behind me, grabbed Javid’s hand, and stepped into the beast’s lair.

         Immediately I knew something was wrong. We didn’t move forward in the swirling mass. I felt tired and tightened my grip on Javid just as we both fell to the floor.

#

         The woman floated above us in the darkness. She didn’t hold a weapon this time. My vision was blurry but I could feel her intentions. I wasn’t sure where Javid had fallen but I wasn’t holding on to him anymore.

         “You’ve come home, Miss Roberts. Your soul is already with our mistress. Once she’s destroyed you, she can have your soul – and all the souls of the beasts you’ve destroyed. Then we can leave this hideous place.”

         I drew my gun, still loaded with the “unwelcome guests” rounds and fired. The Banshee was quick to react. She pulled the shadows around her like a cloak and the shot ricocheted. I heard it explode with the shriek of a dying cat. The room started to smell like burning fur. Out of the smoke, four black cats came running out. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

         Luckily, the Banshee was just as confused as I was. She floated towards me a little uneasily this time, still wrapped in darkness. I had a few more shots remaining. One of them had to hit her.

         An arc of blue and green lightning shot from her hands. I rolled out of the way just in time and found myself crashing into Javid. He helped me stand back up and I fired again.

         The bullet cut right through her shield and exploded. I shut my eyes to protect them from whatever guts and gore she’d litter the room with. When nothing happened, I opened my eyes.

         Where the Banshee had stood, there remained only a pillar of stone. The bullet was lodged in to her stomach and from it dripped a grayish liquid I could only assume was banshee blood. I felt the last key on my key-ring disappear.

         We caught our breath and ran down the hallway. She’d be in the bedroom. This was both my old home and a convoluted version of what Amaris needed. The carpet was the color of soot; the walls were covered in blood.

         I could see her sitting on a golden throne. Her halo was still shining bright. I didn’t understand – we had just killed her Banshee servant, the last key on my keyring disappeared – she should have been mortal! I looked at Javid to try and explain.

         A Halo had appeared over his head, faint but there was no mistaking it. My mouth went dry.

         “Javid – what happened? There are no keys left, she shouldn’t still have her Halo.”

         “There is one key left. The one I gave you, the silver skeleton key to this house. It’s still around your neck.”

         I reached up and grasped at the key; it was still there. He was right. Somehow, the connection between Javid and Amaris was keeping the angel immortal. Gods, no! Not Javid. Please.

         “She was my Guardian angel, Megen. I must be the last thing keeping her immortal. We don’t have a choice. I won’t let her do this to anyone else. Now, you can either help me, or get out of my way.”

         I closed my eyes tight against his words to keep tears from streaming down my face. I knew it was the only choice.

         “Give me the Wolfsbane, Meg.”          His arms moved to encircle me. I shook my head against his chest.

         “Love, we don’t have much time.” I shook against him for a moment longer and then reached in a coat pocket without losing his embrace. I always kept it with me; it was a very deadly herb used to kill Werewolves, completely harmless to humans.

         I drug the small bag out of my pocket. I avoided looking him in the eyes. I couldn’t handle it. Time was running out.

         The herb was blood red in my palm. Javid stood before me, waiting. My hands trembled as I put the herb in my mouth.

         “Are you—-“ Javid kissed me before I could finish. The herb burned in my mouth and I kissed him as hard as I could. His tongue stole death from my lips.

         The poison was hallucinogenic to humans. As Javid was slipping into death, I slipped into memories.

#

         “Javid, do you remember when we used to dream about this? Just laying in your bed in Spokane.. years ago.. The coffee shop, across from the lonely Victorian house? What happened to us?”

         I felt his arm tense around me. A long moment passed before he answered.

         “Death stops a lot of things, Meg. That was years ago, long before Amaris found you. Long before she found us.” His fingers slid slowly along my stomach. His touch was calloused, older, forgetful. It was a chilling, bittersweet memory of him. I closed my eyes, intending to find solace in the darkness, and found myself looking back to a night long ago.

#

         Dark blue silk sheets, so hot and stifling in the summer, we made them worse with sweat. The details were blurry; I couldn’t recall the color of the walls, the size of our bed or the time of day. I remember the sunlight as it poured in through the faded glass window and warmed our naked bodies.

         We had just opened a coffee shop together. Tomorrow was opening day and that night would be our last. Nearly twenty years would pass before I’d see him again – Javid will have aged to fourty-five and I will have stayed the same.

         Javid and I had been the same age, then. In our middle twenties, in love with life and each other. Gods, how I adored the man.

#

         Wolfsbane was a merciful poison. Javid was gone.

         The silver key around my neck disappeared. The angel was mortal. I unsheathed the sword and walked towards purposefully towards death.

#

         Amaris shifted on her throne, her deep red wings stretched far and draped over the sides. I noticed immediately that her feathers had begun to shed. In her lap she held the wooden box that I was searching for. A silver key appeared in the lock as I watched. She was ready to unleash the souls and return to Heaven.

         The sword became heavier in my hands. My arms and muscles ached, my stomach burned. No creature had ever hurt me as badly as this woman had. I stepped through the doorway, sword held before me.

         “Why did you do this?”

         She blinked her golden eyes slowly at me, as if surprised I could speak.

         “Javid was the reason I Fell. If he hadn’t been so careless, I would still be a Guardian. I could not kill him myself. The next logical choice was to have you do it. Now that he’s gone, I can return to Heaven by using all the souls you’ve captured for me.”

         “You’re an Angel, how can you get away with murder?” Amaris shifted in her throne. Feathers were falling rapidly now.

         “Technically, I haven’t murdered anyone – yet.” In a flurry of feathers and light, Amaris unfurled her wings and rose from her throne. Beneath her wings was a bloody skeleton that held her wings together. She winced in visible pain and stared at me in shock. She just realized she was mortal. There was no way, even with all the souls I had accumulated, that she could now return to her Heavenly Throne as a mortal.

         We realized at the same time, all she had to do was turn the key and she’d put us on even ground. If she couldn’t return to her Heavenly seat after all the work she had done, what reason did she have not to kill me? I saw her pick up the box, turn the key and throw it was hard as she could towards me. The box smashed on the ground and exploded in black and red smoke.

         My soul was slammed painfully back in my body.

         I hadn’t felt pain in such a long time. All the pain came crashing down. I buckled over in agony. My vision blurred. I saw her reach behind her throne and draw an equally intimidating sword. She marched down the stairs towards me, sword poised to strike.

         I barely lifted the blade in time to block her attack. The anger and power behind her sword sent pain shooting down my arms. Amaris swung again. Our blades collided. Lightning and fire ripped apart the air and set the world ablaze. I scrambled backwards and pushed myself into a standing position with the blade. She was right behind me. The remains of her wings were heavy and slowing her down.

         I used the wall as leverage and threw myself at her. Smoke was starting to fill the room. Amaris reacted slowly and I plunged the gargoyle blade into her stomach. She made a sickening scream and lunged, forcing the blade deeper in to her body. She managed to push close enough to slash out and rip open my chest. Shock and pain dominated my senses. My vision turned red. I watched her fall in slow motion. Time was standing still. My body went numb except for a warm sensation down my stomach.

         The walls were crumbling now, starting to cave in from the heat. Soon the entire building would be alight. All that I had ever loved would be consumed by fire.

         I was dying, but so was she. Amaris would never again destroy lives. Javid was gone. If I got lucky, maybe I’d find him on the other side. Only, I didn't believe in the other side...