A Kiss at Midnight

Chapter Ten

Weather worn brick buildings curved around narrow streets and roads of cobblestones. Wooden signs marking the name of the business swayed lightly in the late afternoon breeze. Caps and bonnets concealed faces, paces were brisk. A group of children sat huddled on a stoop, playing a game involved a tin cup and a handful of marbles.
Yet Ilona noticed their wary eyes glanced towards the large clock tower and a slight frown marred her face. The frown deepened as the carriage made its way along the streets and she saw a housekeeper in a starched pinafore of pear green casted a nervous glance around as she spoke to another, a basket held in her white-knuckled grip.

"Do they know?" She asked, a note of quietness in her voice which caused Carrick to look at her. "Do they know a werewolf rules their lands?"

"The town guards do and a gold coin or two extra keeps their lips sealed to visitors and newcomers. As for the people, my source says some do know Barrymore's true nature, others no," Carrick answered.

"And yet they stay."

The carriage passed a woman, the hem of her dress in tatters grabbed a small pudgy toddler back into the safety of her arms.

"For some, life in Burr is all they have known and leaving for somewhere else is too big of a risk. Or they fear Barrymore will track them down to reclaim what he considers his."

Is that why he won't tell me what this item of great importance is because if it comes down to it, Barrymore will hunt him and not me?

The words were on the tip of her tongue to ask but then she mentally dismissed such an absurd notion of care and instead, asked, "Are all of the guests in attendance also werewolves?"

"A number of the gentry invited and their wives as far I know are human though the remainder of guests are werewolves. As such silver is forbidden in Burr and at Barrymore's estate."

Ilona's brows furrowed. "Won't the humans think that is an odd request?"

A shrug of his shoulders. "Barrymore is powerful and wealthy. If anything, they will chalk it up as him being a little eccentric."

"The nobility are odd," she muttered, her gaze returning to the window.

"Indeed."

Carrick suddenly winced, clutching at his abdomen as an old ache flared up.

It had been three years since that dreadful night.But closing his eyes couldn't keep the memory from overwhelming him.

Her screams of terror, the Luna huddled in a corner. She was desperate to protect her young pups as her husband fought with a fury rivalling the gods to protect what was his from a pack of invaders. As did all of the pack. Jaws and claws clashed. Puddles of red soaking the earth.

The pale beauty of a full moon unsullied by the carnage below.

An unseen beast slammed into him. Carrick tasted dirt on his lips. He tried to twist to defend himself but it was too late. The wolf's jaws sunk into his side next to his ribs and for a moment, he felt nothing.
Then all he felt was the searing pain, tearing his body apart.
A sound to never escape his ears, the loud crunch of bones breaking.
His jaws twisting into a silent scream, agony stripping him of speech.
A coppery scent invading his senses, his body sagging into the arms of darkness...

"Carrick." Her soft dulcet voice releasing him from the grip of his memory. "Carrick!"

His eyes snapped open.
Ilona was looking at him, worry pinching her cheeks. His gaze flickered down and the sight threatened to break him. Her hand covering his, her thumb grazing the spot between his own thumb and index finger. Then he met her gaze once more.