Waking Up Dead (The Western Werewolf Legend #1) Page 3

  ***

  A contained rage drove Ty forward. Ever since Hortence had told him of a prisoner of war camp in the vicinity, he’d planned for his men’s rescue. He couldn’t sleep without visions of the awful place being his men’s last resting place on the earth. His men had gone through hell with him. Discovering only days before, a vampire pit disguised as a prisoner of war camp and ran by Perkins made his blood boil. The knowledge ate at his insides until he’d have walked through fire to set them free. They didn’t deserve to die at the hands of vampires. He’d do anything he could to save them.

  Being a werewolf provided a benefit in dealing with the bloodsuckers. Strength like he’d never known before allowing him to travel great distances without the need for rest. His body restored itself in record time. A heightened sense of sight and smell beyond anything he’d experienced in his life came with the gift. On the other hand, his temper required a certain amount of control, which he still didn’t possess. He would speak again with the Guardian concerning the problem. What to do about Sonja as a werewolf was a situation of much greater magnitude.

  She’d wanted to accompany him in the search for his men. Confident she could help, she couldn’t understand his concern over her safety. The Guardian had warned him her blood was coveted by the vampires. “She carries the blood,” he’d said.

  “How much further, Abram?” Ty halted to allow his slower companion to catch up.

  Abram Clemens, the Confederate who’d stumbled upon the horrid encampment, strained to keep up with Ty’s accelerated pace.

  Bending over, Abram grabbed both knees with his hands. The struggle to breath prevented his answering right away. “If we could just rest a minute, Lieutenant, I’d be able to finish tellin’ ya what the monster said when I came upon him. He drew in air before meeting Ty’s gaze. “They know about Sonja. The monster said the blood of werewolf-gods allowed the vampires to walk in the daylight. He said she carries the blood.”

  Ty peered at his companion with narrowed eyes. How could Abram be speaking anything but the truth? “We don’t have time to rest. If you can’t keep up, go back, and stand guard for Sonja.”

  Abram straightened. “How you gonna find this here place without me? I’m the only one who knows where it is.” His hands settled on his hips. “Peers to me, you need my information more than you’re lettin’ on.” He spit and glared at Ty. “You’re moving so fast, I can hardly keep up.” Waving a hand to brush away Ty’s concern, Abram went on, “I’ll manage, but you need to listen to what I got to say.” Huffing out another impatient breath, Abram struggled to keep up with Ty as he bound off down the dim trail once more. Stumbling yet again, Abram growled and yanked hard at his boot. “Confounded briars.”

  Abram’s comment reminded Ty of something vague he’d managed to discard from his collection of thoughts. The remembrance centered on these wooded glades. The undergrowth seemed alive, not in the sense of springing forth and multiplying as nature had intended. No, the phenomenon proved more otherworldly. Small vines moved without provocation and followed a person’s movements. If danger lurked nearby, tiny sounds went up as the warning call echoed throughout the forest. Reasoning the things he’d witnessed nothing more than an overactive imagination brought on stress, Ty tried ignoring his apprehensions. Yet, his movements had been hampered in a solid attack. There was no denying the fact. The vegetation could capture an unassuming traveler by winding their sticky little feet around the victim. He’d discovered this all too well on his last attempt at making it through these woods.

  A frown creased his brow. If the events of the past several weeks had taught him anything, it was the fact that another universe suspended precariously under the reality he’d known all his life. While the undergrowth thrived in a sunless environment, it took on powers he’d never witnessed in other plant life. Having grown up on a cattle ranch, the growth of plants was a point of concern most of the time. Here it proved a point of major concern. When the plants reached out and wrapped their vines around a man’s leg, bringing him to his knees and binding him in order to prevent his movement, the phenomenon became quire.

  Slowing, Ty glanced back at his companion. “Would you pick up the pace, Abram? We’ll never make it before nightfall at this pace.” Wiping the sweat from his temple, he paused with a sudden change of heart. The idea of a brief rest would do them both good. No sense in pushing his scout to exhaustion. After all, Abram was the only person with an idea where they were going.

  Lowering himself to the moss covered earth, Ty’s eyes cautiously tracked to a nearby Morning Glory vine. The vine twitched in response causing Ty to roll his eyes skyward. Only a few days before, he traveled this way in search of Sonja after she’d become a wolf right before his eyes. Mentally checking his truths, he corrected himself. He’d traveled in search of the white wolf, the one that was Sonja. A gnawing feeling of dread crept past his guard. Slapping his Stetson against his thigh, Ty’s mind went to her gleaming blonde hair like gold in the sunlight.

  The mental picture he carried with him eased some of his foreboding and he dropped his head a moment to regroup. Was he letting his emotions get the better of him? This trek through the woods could be a fool’s errand – both ladies had said as much when he’d announced his decision to save the men he’d lost because of the attack on the Rebels’ supply train. The fact he was responsible for that mission weighed heavily on Ty. When the supply wagons ended up ditched outside of Spotsylvania, speculation went up about where all the guns had disappeared. Jeb Stewart had been killed by one of those confederate rifles. The fact a Yankee soldier carried the gun made their lose that much more devastating.

  “Tell me what you know of Jeb Stewart’s death.”

  Abram dropped his head, sighing. “It’s a powerful sorry story, sir. The bastards ambushed us at the Yellow Schoolhouse. Our men were out manned and I would say out gunned but...”

  “But what?” Ty urged Abram to finish.

  “Well, it’s just peculiar the way they all but swooped in and attacked, the Yankees I mean. It happened so quick and without much gunfire.” He shook his head. “I can’t recall them firing the first shot come to think of it. I just figured they used their knives and swords. No, they didn’t fire a shot,” he said with a look of bewilderment creasing his brow. “All I heard was the men screaming, begging for mercy. I heard lots of screaming before things got real still. The Yankees was gone. Hell, I didn’t even hear a cannon go off. Before any of us knew it, the whole mess was over and the general was dead. I skedaddled back the way we’d came.”

  Abram’s account sounded familiar to Ty. The Yankee actions proved similar.

  “The witch found me and took me to her place. She said I was lucky.” Abram’s shoulders hunched. His looked like a whipped dog. “Peculiar how I didn’t feel all that lucky. But she said I could lead the Rebels to the Yankee vampires’ hideout.” He tugged off his cap, scratching at his skull. Bemused, he flicked a hesitant glance at Ty. “Sure was odd how the strangest feelin’ came over me. Felt like I knew just what she was talkin’ ‘bout, you know?”

  Ty understood exactly what Abram meant. The sensation wasn’t new yet at one point not long before, he’d had the same feelings assail him. The confusion he’d experienced was something he’d never forget. If a man studied on the perplexing aspects of the whole thing, he’d surely go mad. Ty considered how he could best relieve Abram of the worry over things, which didn’t make sense. While he pondered the answer, a birdcall went up some place close to their location.

  “That ain’t no ordinary bird, Lieutenant.” Abram peered owl eyes first left and then right.

  “I know. Let’s get the hell out of here. This place gives me the creeps,” Ty growled.

  Chapter 2

  Belief

  Soft, wet flakes of snow fell around her. The ground underneath her was warm though. How long had she been there? No twilight stars peeked from behind the clouds blanketing the spring dusk.

  Sonja took small u
neven breaths as she rose. The pain seared through her in waves, stealing her breath, robbing her conscious mind of calm. Her mortal part realized she would live while the beast in her raged at the atrocities she’d endured. The havoc her beastly soul wrecked in the time before she returned from her romp with the vampires was yet unknown to her.

  Gingerly, she tested the arm which sang out in agony with a touch. She needed time, she mused, time to heal and a safe place from further attack. Night came quickly to this part of the forest. She’d best be getting to a safer clime. Since her house lay in ruins, she set her hopes on the barn. The effort to rise brought on more waves of stabbing discomfort and nausea. Stumbling toward her home place, her ears ever alert, her keen wolf sight taking in every twig and flutter of a new leaf, Sonja limped toward home.

  She’d taken no more than a handful of steps when a huge shadow stepped into the path ahead. His long arms hung well past normal, making him appear to drag his knuckles on the ground out of habit. Talons of a blue-green intensity jutted from his hairy fingertips and reminded her of an eagle’s claws.

  Sonja recognized the soundless appearance of the one called Guardian. “Damn it, quit doing that!” She’d grown more accustom to his appearing and disappearing on whims. Still in the aftermath of a battle, she senses remained on high alert.

  “You could have helped, you know,” she snapped the words out before thinking. Wouldn’t do to antagonize the first assistance she’d garnered since the battle began, Sonja mused.

  “How would that have benefited your training?” The Guardian’s long wolfish silhouette gleamed with droplets of dew clinging to the course, straggly hairs on his snout and chin. “You did well.”

  A small surge of pride sparked inside her chest. “Of course you watched.” Her short snort of laughter ended in pain. Stopped by the sharp thrust of what seemed like a blade piercing her side, Sonja swayed. She reached out with her good hand to grip a nearby tree for support.

  “Your injuries are many, Sonja.” The Guardian stood alongside her and Sonja realized he’d used his transport powers once more. His disappearance and reemergence used to bother her. Perhaps she was growing accustom to his strange talents, or possibly madness was slowly taking over.

  “I’ll be fine with some time.” Blinking at his great presence next to her, she asked, “Can you get me to someplace safe?” The pain shot through her side again and she caught herself before she winced. “I seemed to have burned down my house.”

  The grin which appeared on his ugly mug, couldn’t be described as pleasant. More of a smirk. “I’ll have you safe in a few minutes.” With the statement, he whisked her into his massive arms and the next place they came to was her sister’s house.

  A big strapline Cur dog rested in the doorway to the modest but comfortable looking cottage. A trail of flowering Jasmine peaked out from the trellises on either side of the front porch. The steps down to the ground were steeper than Sonja’s steps and immediate gratitude to the great one came over her, when he deposited her on the planks of the porch rather than make her walk up the small flight of stairs to the door.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” she told him as he knocked on the portal for her.

  “You’ll be safer here than in that rundown barn of yours.” Resting his great claws on her shoulder, he reminded her, “Besides, there are few who can cross one of Hortence’s protection spells.”

  The truth of his words gave Sonja a moment’s comfort. The old witch, the Guardian spoke of was both her trainer and friend. Waiting on the moonlight rising over the ridge, Sonja said, “She disappeared this morning before the fun started. Are you two planning these disappearances or just scared of vampires?” Her wry poke at her mentor’s behavior brought an arched brow from the Guardian. The beast possess little of a humorous nature.

  Without giving her room to argue the point, Guardian simply scooped her up again when the door opened to reveal a tall, slim redhead holding a large bowl full of flour.

  “Sonja?” The young woman’s voice quivered for a second before the bowl thudded on a nearby table. She took a step forward gathering Sonja in her arms.

  Guardian opened the door wider and guided them both back inside.

  “I’m fine, sis, no need to look so upset.” Sonja did her best to calm Briann’s concerns before her older sister fell on her like a mother hen. “Just a few scrapes and scratches is all,” she said trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m sorry to barge in like this, but I seem to have no place to stay. I burned down the house.” Her sister’s mouth dropped open and Sonja shrugged. “Too many memories anyway. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

  With a wink at Guardian, she relaxed a fraction as they settled her on a daybed near the fire. Her only living relative lived a few miles from Sonja with her two boys since the passing of her husband, Stephen. Being an empath gave Briann more defenses against danger than most.

  “You sister should be concerned. The woods aren’t empty of danger.” Guardian wandered over to the small window of leaded glass and peered out. He formed such a strange sight in the otherwise warm, homey room. Sonja forced her eyes from him before addressing her sister and explaining further, why he was there to begin with.

  “Had I not the power of reading people’s minds, I would have shot you a long time ago, Guardian. Your mind is unreadable but your actions are honorable.” She glanced at Sonja. “This mess, which has unwittingly become my sister’s life I wanted to blame on you.” Briann paid little attention to the creature as his bushy brows winged up. “But I can’t. I have to admit, if anyone or thing could protect my baby sister, Sonja, it’s you, despite your grotesque animal appearance.” Turning her focus on Sonja, Briann winked, “At least you’re alive and we can deal with the cuts and wounds until…” Biting her lip, her sister faltered over her next words, “Until the healing you do commences.” She tried valiantly for a positive smile and managed a trembling tight-lipped purse. The tears welled in her eyes. Spilling in a slow trickle down her face, she gave in resting her forehead against Sonja’s and simply sighed. “Oh, baby girl, you’ve been getting into more and more trouble ever since this whole wolf thing started. When will it ever end?”

  “Someone’s coming.” The Guardian’s words tightened. With his eyes, volatile and dark, the wolf-god sought Briann’s help. “Make yourself useful woman and show me to a room I can use for the change.”

  Undeterred by his gruff command, Briann pointed toward a set of doors against the back wall, one led to her bedroom and one to the bedroom of her small sons, Ethan and Nathaniel. “Be quiet, the baby’s sleeping,” she admonished Guardian.

  With as polite a nod as a werewolf-god could manage, he disappeared into her bedroom. The change would come on violently if he remained in the room with the new guests. In seclusion, he would transform into a man with much more grace and less noise.

  “Who is it?” Sonja asked as she rose onto an elbow.

  The room spun but slower than before. Grateful the healing didn’t show overly, she dropped her head and covered most of the cuts about her face with her long, blond curls. The picture of Ty’s hand fisted in her curls wavered a moment before she shoved the idea to the back of her foolish head. Her life depended on what she did now, not what she dreamed of doing with the man she’d turned into a werewolf after sharing her gift with him. When she glanced up, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

  There in the doorway stood the Confederate Major General, Jeb Stewart. His gray woolen long-coat over slim charcoal gray suit trousers didn’t show a sign of wear. His face framed by a well-trimmed beard and matching chops gave him the unmistakable appearance of a gentleman.

  Sonja nodded in his direction. “General?”

  “Sonja Brooks, I believe.” Stewart bowed low over his arm and sent his gold braid dancing from the insignias fastened to his shoulders. The dusky gray cavalry hat, which until moments earlier had sat jauntily atop his thick mane of dark brown curls, now rested in his large, strong hands. “I have word
from our lookouts. Ty Loflin has been captured outside the Union prisoner of war camp, Conner’s Breach.”

  Sonja got up slowly and stared back at the general. “You’re dead.” She wasn’t trying to ignore his information or be insensitive. With effort, she stepped toward him.

  “Sonja?” Briann asked hesitantly.

  “It’s okay, Sister. The fear doesn’t rear up any longer like the sensation used to.” With a slight crook to her mouth, she explained for Stewart. You see, General, before, I was scared to death when my wolf nose smelled your kind lurking in the woods beyond Briann’s door. Waiting for Stewart to answer, she reached out to check his pulse. She found him indeed, dead. “Why have you come here with such news? You tried to kill Tyler Loflin the last time I saw you. He is no traitor to the ‘cause’ yet you tried to court martial him. Now you stand here telling me he’s been captured by the Yankees. What do you want me to do, find him so you can finish killing him?” With her temper rising to the boiling point, she shoved past Briann, who tried to help and positioned herself between her sister and the vampire.

  “Your observation is correct,” Stewart said humbly. “I am dead.” His hat remained in his hands as he glanced from her to her sister, who moved to stand beside Sonja.

  “Why have you come here with such news? You ordered a firing squad to shoot Tyler. He didn’t even get a trial! Why should I believe you, Rebel?”

  “As you already know, my regiment was attacked at the Yellow Schoolhouse outside of Spotsylvania. Vampires disguised as Yankees drained most of my men. They’d decided to make me one of them for sport, I suppose.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I managed to escape. I came to warn you.” He paused, waiting for their response. Stewart glanced from Sonja to Briann. “I know what Tyler is now. And I know what you are as well.”