Page 41 of The Agent and the Outlaw
Or werewolves? Or was this unique to me and my deviation?
I certainly didn’t feel like awolf.I still felt like a woman—like me, Charlotte. Did I look different? Would I behave differently? Was everything about me bound to change in the same way as my appetite? I grew melancholy at the thought. It had taken me a long time to recover from the disaster of a few years ago and my marriage to Philippe. I’d only just accepted myself in this new role as an agent of the Order andles Dames Dangereuses,and because of one disastrous assignment, I now found myself having to accept a whole new identity.Again.
I didn’t know how long I sat in bed staring out the window, but by the time I came to my senses, the warmth of the afternoon had cooled, and the sky had melted into a lovely sherbet sunset. I couldn’t just sit here any longer. If I was what Van Helsing suggested—a werewolf—I needed to be certain. I needed to understand more about myself…more about this condition. Feeling stronger and having enhanced senses was a far cry from growing fur and running amok on all fours, baying for blood.Or would that be howling for meat?Who was to say that was how this blood plague variant would manifest?
Van Helsing said she wanted to run some tests on me.
Well,Iwanted to run a few of my own.
Resolved, I threw back the covers and went to the corner wardrobe.Finally, a spot of luck!My borrowed wool gown and underclothes were clean and folded inside. I donned them quickly and tiptoed quietly from the room and down the stairs. I hoped Van Helsing and Antoine were resting and wouldn’t hear me sneak out. I needed some time alone to figure things out before they showed up at my bedside fretting over something that none of us really understood.Yet.
I pulled the hood of my cloak over my bound hair and lace cap, hoping there wouldn’t be any boisterous men around to trouble me. It was early enough in the evening that I didn’t think there would be too many drunken louts about, especially in a somber town that seemed to be bracing for the next disaster, but one never knew. Trouble could find a lady anywhere.
Heading out the door, I turned in the opposite direction from the town’s front gate. This way seemed to be less populated than the main streets. I pulled my cloak around me and tried to keep to the lengthening shadows. It would be dark soon, and then it’d be easier for me to stay hidden from prying eyes in a town of only humans.A town of only humans!I wrinkled my nose in distaste at the thought—as if I was already thinking myself better than human.
I furrowed my brows.No, it ismore than that.Aside from the fact that Daphne and Étienne—my friends, nay, family—were vampires, I felt a sense of unsettling tension in a town that considered all supernatural beings evil. In Paris, all but the aristocracy had overwhelmingly accepted the inevitability of the blood plague. Certainly, that was out of necessity rather than widespread ill intent—it was better to drink blood than starve to death. Being in Gévaudan, a town that shut out the rest of the world because of fear, made me worry over the other parts of France. Étienne often said a revolution was coming—a war between vampires and humans. If he was right, I was sure the vampires would take Paris, but what would happen in all the small towns like Gévaudan? I dreaded to think.
I picked up my pace and found what I’d been hoping for—an unmanned back gate set into the town wall. Through the bars, I saw a rickety bridge set over the river and a dusty road disappearing into the dark forest beyond. The gate looked easy enough to scale, but because night hadn’t fully descended, I reasoned it would be less noticeable to simply pick the large, iron padlock than to hoist my skirts and risk someone seeing me climb the wall.
I pulled out a hairpin and deftly picked the lock, being sure to close the gate behind me on my way out of town. I hoped I wasn’t putting the people of Gévaudan at some great, unknown risk by defying their lockdown orders, but if I was to understand all that had happened to me, I needed a secluded space to do so.
Besides, if Ididmanage to transform into some kind of wolf creature, I didn’t think a town as anti-supernatural as Gévaudan would approve of my doing so within one of their inns.
Once I crossed the bridge and reached the line of trees marking the edge of the forest, I allowed myself a sigh of relief. I’d managed a tidy little escape from the confines of the town. I walked along the road winding through the woods for what felt like hours, but as the dusky sunset faded and night gathered in around me, I marveled at the lack of exhaustion that would have normally overtaken me. Rather, I felt energized. I considered that was because I’d been cooped up in an inn for two weeks, but a small voice in my head suggested it was linked to the rise of the large, luminous moon.
Merde.
I stared up at it, wondering what one had to do to transform. If I were a werewolf—you probably are a werewolf, Charlotte—how would I change? Did it just happen? Did I have to do something? Did I need to be naked? Did it start with a growl or a howl?
Feeling a bit foolish, even though I was alone in a dark forest, I took a deep breath, tipped my head back, and let out a howl.
Nothing happened. It sounded nothing like a wolf, though… Perhaps I needed to practice? Should I be louder then?
Maybe I needed to be deeper in the woods to reallyfeelmy “inner wolf.” I shrugged and stepped off the road, weaving through the trees and bushes. At last, I came upon a small grassy hill that looked rather romantic in the moonlight. If I were a werewolf—again, Charlotte, you probably are a werewolf—this was where I would promenade.
I sat down on the grass, spread my skirts around me, and tried howling once more. Again, nothing happened.Charlotte, you really have lost your mind.I blew out a breath of frustration. The moon was high now, but I felt as normal as I ever had.
Perhaps Van Helsing was wrong. Maybe the infection had just healed, and the table had been shoddy, and everything I’d been sensing had been the bodily culmination of an inordinate amount of stress. One could only hope.
Right, Charlotte, give this one more attempt, then if nothing happens, we’ll return to the inn, tell Van Helsing she is wrong, and continue on our merry way, with or without Antoine.
Satisfied, resolute, I stripped my clothes off until I was completely bare. I folded them neatly, set them aside, and strolled to the top of the hill. It was remarkably freeing, being utterly naked out in a forest, and felt exceptionally sinful. I breathed deeply, inhaling the scents of frost-glittered grass, ancient trees, moss, and dirt. I closed my eyes and stilled my mind as much as possible, focusing on the sensations of the world around me. My stomach churned—probably the raw meat disagreeing with me—and I started to feel lightheaded. Oddly, it only now occurred to me that I didn’t feel the cold at all.
Something inside me seemed to be gathering, drawing up, tightening. There was nothing for it now. I was going to try this one more time and then put the whole thing behind me.
Ignoring any remaining whispers of self-consciousness and shame, I dropped to all four on top of the hill, tilted my head back, and howled with everything that vibrated through me. Blood rushed through my ears as distantly, the answering howl of another wolf pierced the night.
Merde.
Pain exploded in my body. I screamed and fell to the earth, writhing in agony. Every nerve was on fire, every bone breaking, every inch of skin scraping away from my flesh. I howled again, this time involuntarily, and only briefly registered the alien timbre of my voice.What is happening to me?
But I knew. Deep down, through the haze of torment, I knew what was happening. I sobbed my acceptance of it, and as I feared, the sound reverberated as a distinctly canine whimper.
Abruptly, the pain ceased. Dread like I’d never felt before pooled in my mind, and I was loath to open my eyes. Everything felt different. Everythingwasdifferent. I didn’t want this to be real. It needed to be a nightmare that I would wake up from soon, cuddled in bed with some courtly fop.Or Antoine.
I cracked one eye open and looked down. What I saw made my heart sink.
A mutant paw in place of a hand, tipped with long, sharp claws. An arm covered in glossy dark fur. Something brushed me from behind, and I whipped around to catch it—mon dieu, a tail!
