Chapter 21
The Nor-Witch
Howling laughter erupted from the werewolves eating at the wooden tables outside the barbeque joint. When I was here with Austin, we’d stayed outside. The building was nothing much to look at—and there wasn’t even a name on signage out front.
The standing chalkboard to the entrance’s right displayed the menu in beautiful cursive, which kind of clashed with the rugged rural theme. If there was a theme.
All the werewolves went quiet, turning to look at me in unison as I approached the entrance. This was also a common occurrence; being a half-turn, the attention was just part of daily life. It wasn’t terrible, but I still found it unsettling at times.
“Hey, new guy,” a smaller black werewolf called as I reached for the door handle. “Wanna sit with us?”
“I have some hungry guys back at home, sorry.” The werewolves here were different compared to the city.
There was no underlying desperation, no belligerent drunk shouting, no creepy advances.
They all had this calmness in their demeanor, happy and sober—for the most part, their tails wagging and ears up.
“I’ll take you guys up on the offer next time though. ”
“We will hold you to it,” said a larger, gray one sitting across from the black. “Bring the pack next time. They look like a fun bunch.”
“There’s definitely never a dull moment,” I said with a smile before stepping inside the warm restaurant.
The atmosphere shifted instantaneously from a cozy hole-in-the-wall to something right out of a haunted house.
Barbeque usually meant open, well-lit foyers and dining areas lined with wooden seats and western décor, but this was the opposite, leaning in hard on the whole ‘Halloween Town’ reputation.
Upside-down cast iron pentagram candle holders lined the walls of the entryway.
All the windows were covered with thick black drapes, and the walls were burgundy, with fake cobwebs along the corners. At least I assumed they were fake.
A woman greeted me as I walked through the foyer, the candlelight too dim to see her face clearly.
“I was wondering when you would wander into my web.” The low and seductive way she spoke gave her voice a cat-like purr.
She wore a black gown so long it hid her shoes, and her upper body remained still as if she were floating across the floor toward me.
The alabaster makeup was perfectly contoured, giving her slender cheeks more depth, and the whole ensemble popped with her ruby lipstick, long lashes and black eyeliner.
The woman was stunning, with her long, straight hair as dark as a raven’s feathers.
She had a confidence in her posture that made her seem much older than she probably was. “It’s nice to see you again, gorgeous.”
Even though she was a woman, the sensual timbre of her voice made me blush. “Have we met?”
“Briefly.” She traced the backs of her slender fingers along my cheeks before combing my thick sideburns with her nails. Her touch made me freeze. “I bought you a drink the other night.”
She leaned in and kissed me on the forehead, her lips feeling soft ice before she pulled away and glided back to the counter. The concept of personal space seemed almost offensive to her, like she owned everything and everyone that walked through the door.
“Sorry, I don’t remember. There were a lot of people trying to buy me drinks that night.” She must have been one of the women I thought was flirting with me. “I hope I didn’t seem rude.”
“You were direct,” she said with a sharp smile. “Your friend seemed rude to you though.”
“You picked up on that?” I asked, grabbing a plastic menu from a large, fake skull shaped like a bowl. “I had a bad night.”
“Well, let me make this evening more pleasurable,” she said, leaning over the counter, purposely letting her cleavage heave forward. “And by that, I mean the food is on the house. Half-turns always eat free when they come inside. So do new werewolves.”
“For real?”
“It’s my way of welcoming your pack to our town.” Her stare ravaged me the longer I stood there.
“You won’t get in trouble, will you?” I held up the menu and started reading, but she pulled it down and wagged her finger.
“I guess I’ll have to reprimand myself later. You’ll get the howler’s special feast, and when it’s done, I’ll have our driver deliver it.”
“Oh—okay.” I started backing toward the door.
“I’ll have him deliver you, too.” She waved me through the lobby toward a corner booth in the back adorned with two lit candles and two glasses of iced tea. I followed at a distance. “Get cozy. I’ll bring some appetizers.”
There wasn’t another soul in the dining area, as if I was the only one expected. The last time Austin and I were here, we never came inside to order. Was she here then?
A tightness swelled in my chest the further I went inside. The surrounding air turned thick, and it was hard to catch my breath. As if by instinct, I stopped and backed away. The intensity of the fear was so primal. The werewolf side of me screamed a warning I didn’t quite understand.
“Who are you?”
“Willa,” she said, her sanguine lips pulling upward into a bewitching smile. “Willa Mosavi.”
“Shit,” I whispered, taking a shaky step backward, but it was like walking through tar. So she was the mayor’s wife.
Her seductive smile softened into something less threatening as she grabbed my arm.
“Oh, come on.” She pulled me along and pointed to the booth. “The food will be done in about twenty minutes, but I’ve been wanting to talk.”
“Are you going to put another charm on me like your husband did?”
“That naughty beast,” she whispered, sliding into the booth and pointing to the other seat across from her.
“I told him to leave you alone from now on.” She lifted a glass of tea to her mouth and sucked it through the plastic straw, leaving a thin film of red behind.
“I won’t force you to stay, but I would like to talk about what happened.
My husband can be brash and heavy-handed.
It’s a wonder he’s made it this far into politics. ”
“Your husband’s sick.”
Her eyes rolled back, and she wet her lips. “Oh, I know.”
“I didn’t mean it in a good way,” I muttered through my teeth, reluctantly taking a seat.
She pursed her lips, seeming to feign disappointment.
“I guess since I’m here, you can answer some questions as well.”
“I often have the answers.” She placed the glass back on the table, stirring the floating ice cubes with her sharp, manicured finger before sucking the liquid away.
“You know I’m completely gay, right?”
“Of course I know. That’s why this is so much fun. You and my Darius have so much in common, you know?”
“I wish people would stop saying that. I am nothing like your husband.”
“You’re still a baby compared to him but give it a couple hundred years.”
Why was her presence so terrifying? It wasn’t just because she was Mosavi’s wife. She had this suffocating aura that made me remember the warnings of the Whasha ferals.
“Are you a witch?”
She sat up straighter, seemingly uneasy. “What a dreadful question.”
“Sorry. I’ve just heard some rumors.”
“I’m not a witch, Cody.”
I let out a relieved sigh.
“I am the witch. The Nor-witch.” The woman let out a shriek of maniacal laughter, weaving her fingers through the air like spindly wands. She stopped and snorted a real laugh before taking another sip of tea.
“You could have just told me no,” I said, relaxing my clenched fists under the booth, trying to come across as nonchalant. I still wasn’t sure if she was lying or telling the truth.
“Any other questions?” she asked. “Do you want to know where I keep all of the human children I eat?”
“Ha ha. I’m gullible, okay?” Of all the personalities Mosavi’s wife could have had, this was actually not as terrible as I imagined. She almost seemed like a smart, female version of Roscoe. “Why is your husband so interested in me?”
“Well, look at yourself,” she said, pulling an ornate compact mirror from a hidden pocket against her right breast.
“Yes, I’m a cutie. We’ve established that.”
“No, I mean, actually look at yourself,” she said more seriously, sliding the mirror across the table. “See what Darius sees.”
I gave her a bit of side-eye and grabbed the mirror before unfolding it and giving my reflection a careful look.
“Is this supposed to be some kind of lesson of self-confidence?”
The image in the mirror rippled before going still again, and my irises took on a silver glow similar to Mosavi’s.
My face morphed and broadened into someone older and much more masculine, but I could still tell it was me.
I’d never looked so handsome, so refined.
When I smiled, my sharp teeth glistened with an ivory sheen in the dancing glow of candlelight.
The more I stared, the more wolf-like I became, my face now warping into a full lycanthropic visage. Gray streaks gave my neat mane a distinguished appearance. I was massive.
“What is this?” I asked, enamored. “Another one of Mosavi’s enchanted toys?”
“That is your potential,” Willa said, pulling the mirror away. She snapped it shut and stuffed it back into her brassiere. “Normally, you’d be too old for this stage of lycanthropy, but you’re the special case.”
“So, I’ve been told.” I picked up my glass and took a sip. “This wasn’t supposed to be my life.”
She patted my hand. “You can’t change it, Cody. Trying to hide it away will only cause you distress and bitterness. It was something I wish I’d have been around to help my husband with when he was much younger, but I didn’t know him then.”
“That’s easy for you to say. It doesn’t happen to women. You don’t have your entire life and future upended by whatever the hell this curse is.”
“Curse?” She shook her head. “When you were looking at your future self in my mirror, what did you feel?” she asked, pulling her hand away.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not a hard question. Were you satisfied?”
“I… don’t know.”