Page 47 of Wolf's Bane
Inhaling deeply, the warm, spicy scent helped to shake off the remnants of sleep. He wanted a long soak in a hot bath, preferably with a soap that would not strip off a layer of skin, and then he wanted an enormous breakfast. Warm bread, dripping with butter and honey. A half-dozen eggs, at least, and he’d take them any style the cook served them. And a slab of beef, still red and juicy in the center, the blood oozing out on the plate.
Alek licked his lips, fantasizing about a chunk of meat that a man could sink his teeth into. The bloodier, the better.
In the early years, concern about maiming an innocent person kept him confined under lock and key, but that captivity made the beast restless. It was better, he discovered, to ease his grip on his control, seclude himself in the middle of nowhere, and let the beast hunt a rabbit or deer.
His stomach rumbled, and he was not sure if that was because of the dream of a hearty breakfast or the taste of a wet, warm rabbit liver.
He glanced up to find Godwin watching him, a keen look in his silvery gray eye. He recognized that look. It was the look that shortly proceeded with a solid thumping during practice and a lecture on how to improve his technique. The older man leaned on a short staff like a walking stick, no doubt intending the staff to be the instrument of the thumping.
“I will not apologize for guarding her door,” Alek said.
“Nor should you. The house was breached and unsecured.”
Alek nodded, as if that were the reason he stayed outside Solenne’s door. “Any luck last night?”
“I would thump you for suggesting I require luck to track a beast, but this one is a slippery devil. No. We found no trace of it, just a few prints in the mud.”
“I found this.” Alek dug in his coat’s inner pocket and removed the cravat. Dirt and Alek’s own bloody, smeared fingers stained the cloth. “No signs of Chambers or Parkell otherwise.”
Godwin hummed, as if reevaluating his opinion of his neighbor. “The blacksmith?”
“Stable, she said, but that was some hours ago.”
Alek raised his fist to knock on the door, but Godwin grabbed his wrist. “Leave them be. How is your shoulder?”
“I’ve had worse. Maybe next time, hit the beast.”
The shrewd look returned. “I hit the target.” He thumped the staff against the floor. “Come along. Let’s see if they made it home safely or if we have to build them a pyre.”
With a quick stop in the kitchen for a thick sandwich of yesterday’s bread and cheese, they headed out into the already warm and humid air. Alek pointed them in the direction where he found the discarded garments. A few tracks in the mud led down the hill, into the trees.
“I forgot how early it gets hot here,” Alek said, losing the collar at his throat. Warm, he nearly removed the coat. The shirt, stiff from dried blood, clung to his damp skin.
As if sensing his thoughts, Godwin said, “If you have not noticed, we’re unconcerned about fashion here. Remove your coat if you wish. A bit of dirt and blood won’t ruffle my delicate sensibilities.”
“I’m fine,” he lied.
“Whatever puts you at ease,” Godwin said, waving his hand magnanimously. The man had been so stern, so serious when Alek arrived that he forgot Solenne learned her sarcastic delivery from him. “I will confess that I’m curious about how the wound is healing. You barely flinched when the arrow hit. Did it hurt?”
“Yes, it hurt.” Alek took a larger than necessary bite of the sandwich, flashing his teeth and chewing aggressively.
“But is it still bleeding? You never know with your kind.”
With his kind.
Alek finished the sandwich because whatever was about to happen would, doubtlessly, require him at full strength and both hands empty. He had been hungry enough in the past to never waste a perfectly good meal. “Same as you, I’d expect,” he said, cautiously.
“I had hoped you’d draw out the beast. Like calls to like.” Godwin continued on, using the staff to part brush and low-hanging branches.
“I’m sure I do not know—”
“Don’t insult me, Hardwick. How long have you had the bite? It must be a few years now. You didn’t even shift last night.”
“Which hurt worse than your arrow in my shoulder,” Alek said.
“Thank you for doing us both the courtesy and not denying it. Now, how long?”
“Seven, maybe eight years. How did you know?”
