Where A Witch Goeth

Chapter Four: The Death Card

If I had not been in a situation where I thought the odds of dying better than even, I might have been disappointed by not being able to see the ruins of the old hotel. But it was full dark now, and the tangle of trees and shrubbery pressed in upon what was once well-tended lawn and gardens. As we moved into the grounds, I saw nothing but a few feet of forest in the tunnel of frosty light from my head-lamp.

For "our safety," Nick had been relieved of his gun and his entire paraphernalia-filled police vest. He and I had also been outfitted with headlamps from the werewolves' extensive stash of outdoor gear, housed in large containers in the trucks. That Nick and I had been given these headlamps, which the werewolves had forgone, told me at least two things. One, werewolves had excellent night vision. Two, they kept company with people who did not. Both facts squared with what little I knew of them.

All of my father's instruction upon the subject of werewolves could be summed up in a paragraph or two. Lycanthropy was an ancient disease—a retrovirus that infiltrated human DNA with magical mutations. Yes, werewolves were compelled to change into their beasts at the full moon, but they could change at other times, too. Even in man form, they had super senses and super strength. Almost all werewolves were male. Human mates and human children were common in werewolf society. Although the humans were never considered "pack," they were fiercely protected.

A person could get bitten and infected with the werewolf virus. Werewolves could also pass on altered, lycanthropic DNA to their offspring. Not all children born to werewolves developed lycanthropy themselves, and the pattern of inheritance didn't follow the recessive rules of mundane genetics. The magical virus that integrated into human DNA wasn't stable or well-understood, even by supernatural scientists who secretly studied it.

The most important item on my father's bullet list of werewolf factoids? Avoid them, because they distrusted witches almost as much as vampires.

The irony made me laugh out loud, right at this very moment. Avoid werewolves, my dad always told me. Then why had he kidnapped a werewolf's son and left me and my mundane boyfriend holding the bag for his crime?

Because my dad was a witch who couldn't be trusted.

Jonas Unger didn't appreciate my witchy cackle. He pushed me forward on the trail he'd found, as he and I led the group. I navigated toward my father's location by magical intuition, and Jonas translated the bearing into a path through the mountain valley. The forest felt like a jungle to me, on account of the predators at my back. They could maul me as swiftly as any tiger and would probably enjoy eating me just as much.

Still thinking of werewolf lineage, and hoping to endear Jonas in an effort to woo him away from my father's agenda, when we paused to take another magical bearing, I asked, "Your son...Cayden...is he a werewolf?"

Jonas ignored my question. "Is your father's location still fixed?" He waited, compass in hand, for my answer.

I could tell my father had not moved at all. He was still was up the mountain, slightly northwest of our position, in the exact same direction as the sound of the falls. But I took my time, pretending to seek him. I wandered off the trail. Not for the first time, I tripped over a tree root, landed on my hands and knees. My left hand scraped rock before landing on the earth with my right. I whimpered as I sat down. "Oww," I complained, pretending to fuss over the cut on my hand as I pressed the full length of my legs into the earth.

Winston Straup snarled as he jerked me to my feet and dragged me back on the trail. His wiry beard brushed against my forehead as he lorded over me. "If you can't stay on your feet, I will find a better use for your ass on the ground."

"Tell me, Unger, is this what werewolves are?" Nick's voice was angry but controlled. "Monsters that threaten and abuse women for sport?"

"Not my werewolves," Unger spat back. "Winston, if I have to tell you again to stop harassing the witch, then I will take your disobedience as a challenge to my leadership, and when I get my son back, we will take up that challenge in the pack pit. Where I will tear your head off before the eyes of your wife and daughter. Do you understand?"