Page 106 of A Shade Too Far
“A couple of demons ate my patio furniture,” I said. “And a plant that I was really fond of. It might surprise you that I’m not much of a gardener and Eli mostly takes care of that for me. But Jude had given me this rhodo as a housewarming gift when I first moved and the hardy little thing survived me.”
I sat cross-legged, something I could never do comfortably on my own sofa because it wasn’t wide enough, and massaged my aching left hip. Laurent shimmied slightly closer, so I kept talking. “I always prided myself on being the responsible one. In my marriage, at work, even with Jude. But how do I stay that person when every time I think I have a handle on what I’m dealing with, the universe laughs and shows me otherwise?”
The wolf leapt onto the sofa, positioning himself at the other end.
With the return of Laurent’s magic, all should have been right with the world, but seeing him still stuck in animal form, I felt my grief swell inside me. I was bobbing in a tiny boat, the distance between us an ocean, so I crossed it the only way I knew how.
Words gushed out of me. I jumped topics from my fears over my family and friendships, to demon poos in my kitchen, and circling back again. My throat became dry, but I kept talking, unable to stop.
“The more I try to make things right, the more it all feels like everything is careening out of control.” I poked at a ragged cuticle. “The only solid relationship I have is with my best friend that I haven’t had time for and a potty-mouthed golem. I wish you could speak and tell me if I’ve broken us.”
I blinked out of the trance I’d fallen into as I mused aloud, realizing that Laurent had pushed his head into my lap, and I was slowly raking my fingers through his fur. I froze, but his breathing was deep and even, gently ruffling my shirt with each exhale. I resumed petting him, so that he’d keep sleeping, the long, dense fur bristly to the touch. I was mesmerized to be this close to him. Not even to a wolf, just to Laurent, who deplored physical contact.
Maybe, though, I had that wrong as well. Maybe it had been so long since he’d been touched that it was too much for him and he couldn’t deal with it.
The scent of cedar that always clung to him was deeper tonight, mixed with the tang of rich soil. I flicked away a pine needle that was caught in his fur and small silky hairs from his undercoat clung to my fingers.
“I’m sorry that I risked you,” I murmured. “You mean a lot to me, and I took you for granted. I won’t anymore.”
I scratched behind his ear, and the wolf huffed softly, a sigh rippling through his body, but he didn’t stir. My breathing fell into sync with his.
“What are we going to do? Zev won’t give up the gloves and that’s the only way to save Tatiana.” I rested my head against the cushions, staring up at the ceiling as I stroked his fur. “I can’t kill Frances, and when I really think about it, I’m not sure you can either. You talk a good game about dybbuks, but you’re also adamant that you only kill the host after their consciousness is gone and the dybbuk is in control. Frances is very much alive.” I sighed. “We won’t have a choice though, will we? Tatiana is our priority.”
Frances was Banim Shovavim; she knew our history and the danger that using her magic placed on all of us. I was the first one to call people out for using slurs or being prejudiced against my kind, a real champion of my people. But champions had to make sacrifices. Was me being Banim Shovavim precisely the reason I had to be the one to end this?
I buried my face against the top of his head. “I won’t let you have all the blood on your hands. My actions started this and if Frances’s death is our only hope, then I’ll find a way to live with it.” I paused. “I’ll kill her myself.”
We hadn’t turned on lights when we’d come in, and night had fallen, filling the space beyond the circle of light with moonlight and indigo shadows. My magic sang in my blood, enjoying the calm before the horrible storm barreling down on us.
“I hope we’re okay, Huff ’n’ Puff.” I yawned. “Five minutes, then I’ll go, ’kay?” I rambled on for a bit longer, then things got fuzzy. I might have heard Laurent’s voice, but perhaps that was only in my dreams. All I know is that suddenly sun streamed in through the front windows, and I lay on his sofa covered by a soft blanket.
Stretching out my stiff shoulders, I sat up. “Laurent?”
He wasn’t in the main room and although I hesitated, not wanting to disturb him if he was sleeping, there was no sign of him in his room, and his bed was made.
I found my phone among the pillow cushions with a text from Laurent that he was picking up Juliette and would see me at the Bear’s Den later.
Laurent was bringing a healer to this rendezvous. Not just any healer either, his niece, who he wanted kept far from all of Tatiana’s business. Juliette couldn’t revive the dead, so was he bringing her for one of us? All of us?
There was a second text to eat breakfast so I didn’t get hangry and screw everything up. I pressed the phone to my chest, relieved that he’d shifted back to human, though I could have done without the snark in his text, because I had no clearer sense of how things stood between us than when he’d been in wolf form.
Laurent had set out bread, butter, and jam, which was thoughtful, because I would have felt weird helping myself to food from his fridge when he wasn’t here.
I pulled my hair into a ponytail, already halfway through a cup of the coffee that Laurent had made earlier. The toast had popped when I remembered some of what I’d shared with him last night. The only thing that kept me from feeling completely embarrassed was that he’d been asleep. I paused, a glop of butter on my knife. I’d said I’d kill Frances.
I would if there was no other way, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was some argument that would sway Zev. Yes, he’d refused me once in no uncertain terms and again to Tatiana, his Tanechka, but he was equally adamant that she survive.
Pushing aside any concerns about Lonestars tracking my internet searches, I typed in what Chester had said about the demon who’d cursed the gloves. It had stayed with me because the wording had been so oddly old-fashioned.
The curio proprietor had called this slaughter akin to a ravening wolf—not ravenous, the more colloquial and normal way of phrasing it. Unsurprisingly, there were a number of references to ravening wolves in the bible. I followed up on them over breakfast, but most were dead ends.
Wiping my buttery fingers on a napkin, I chased down one more reference. This one came from the Book of Genesis about the Tribe of Benjamin. “Benjamin shall ravinasa wolf: in the morning he shall devour the prey, and at night he shall divide the spoil.” The quote itself didn’t give me any epiphanies, so as with the others, I dug a bit deeper.
And dropped my phone like I’d been scalded.
I snatched it up again, rereading what I’d found. This latest biblical reference to the ravening wolf had given rise to the Hebrew name Ze’ev.
A ravening wolf tearing men apart. A vampire capable of incredible violence.
Zevwas the demon who’d cursed the gloves.
