Page 79 of Hallow Hill at Halloween: Part One

Someone in the band near a live mic said, “Are these the same shrooms we usually get from Petey?”

A look passed between Esme and me just before we placed ourselves between Vuk and the sephalien, but apparently his instinct alerted him to the danger he was in. He began to change, quickly growing too large for the tux. He rid himself of everything except the, thankfully, stretchy boxers he was wearing underneath. His werewolf form wasn’t hideous, the way it’s portrayed in movies, but it wasn’t attractive either. Mostly, he was hairy and immense.

He stopped, sniffed the air, looked around, then made a dash for the terrace wall behind, leapt forty feet to the ground, then sprinted toward the edge of the forest, which was just a hundred yards away from where he’d landed below.

The sephalien were on him in an instant but weren’t quick enough to overtake him before he entered the trees. Forest chases favor the prey of sephalien because of their size and their wings. Guests weren’t able to follow visually because even the bright moonlight couldn’t reveal what was happening under cover of forest.

I sighed and looked at Esme. “It’s a good thing I have a guest house where Keir can sleep tonight.” To the vampire, I said, “John David, my sincerest apologies for my husband. And his brother. I don’t know why they couldn’t control themselves, but they shouldn’t have ruined your party.”

I was expecting my host to tell me to bugger off, take my kitty with me, and not come back. Or something of the sort.

Nothing could’ve been more surprising, and as usual, alarming, than to see a vampire’s ear-to-ear smile. “Tell me, everyone,” he said, raising his glass and his volume so that everyone could hear him easily, “would you say the werewolf chase has ruined the party?”

Raucous laughter and collective shouts of “No,” assured me that party guests considered the werewolf rundown part of the entertainment. Go figure.

“In that case,” Master Weir continued, “let’s toast the hunt.”

“To the hunt!” My friends and neighbors shouted happily as they clinked glasses.

Poor werewolf.

Since Vuk no longer hogged the dance floor, others began to fill the space, and move their bodies to the decidedly quirky but fun sounds of Adam’s Antics.

I shook my head and turned to Esme with an all’s-well-that-ends-well smile even though that betrayed my true feelings. My husband could be there dancing with me. Instead, he was off on another hunt. My prediction was that there’d be words later.

“Maybe they couldn’t help it” Esme said. I didn’t know if she was trying to console me or herself. “The creature did provoke them, after all.”

It was beyond odd to hear one of the magical community refer to anyone as ”that creature”. It had become evident that werewolves were pariahs without exception. I supposed that’s how Vuk had ended up with only himself standing between existence and the end of his species.

Some of those feelings were easy to decipher. In the short time I’d been acquainted with Vuk Redfurd, I’d observed that he had a tendency to gravitate toward poor choices.

“How?” I tried to remember what might’ve set them off. “Oh. When he tried to get you to join in on the weird dance.”

“Exactly.”

“So, you’re saying we should let this go?”

“Good relationships require compromise.”

I nodded. “Indeed. They do. They also require showing up at the party of the season and dancing with one’s wife.”

Esme sighed and took a sip of something red and fizzy. “You have a point.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a UFO streak across the sky. I tracked just in time to see a third sephalion land at the edge of the forest.

“What is Killian doing here?” It was a thought I could’ve kept to myself, but that would be out of character for my mouth.

“I don’t know,” Esme said. “Interesting, though.”

John David instructed the band to continue playing. Suddenly feeling the chill, I decided to take my red wine inside until it had a chance to warm me thoroughly. I couldn’t instruct my body to keep me comfortable the way many magic creatures could. It was an enviable advantage they took for granted.

I knew my way around the house well enough. So, I decided to take the short cut to the kitchen, through the dining room via the butler’s pantry. I pushed the café-style door, complete with circular glass window inward and froze. All thoughts of mere chill instantly vanished as my blood froze.

Aofinne was leaning against the pristine white cabinets with glass fronts and shiny pewter hardware. She was wearing a black and white domestic costume for the occasion instead of the pink I’d seen her wear previously.

She looked up from where she was feeding on Jarvis’s neck. He was limp as a wet towel, apparently held up without any effort at all. The copious blood on her face and white lace collar and cuffs was somehow made more gruesome by her red hair, now highlighted with blood.

The initial jump of my heart rate to 193 subsided once my brain re-engaged.

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