The Legend of the Werewolf Read Free Page B

some seconds before reluctantly returning it to
the coffee table.
    She knew what he was thinking.
"You didn't see it. It was glowing, just like in the story. And,
that guy made shadows come to life, we fought them with
light. Just
like in the story ."
    Bill took her by the shoulders and held
her at arms length. He leaned down and looked her in the eyes.
"Honey, do you know what the odds of something like that is? Even
if he is who you think he is—"
    "Then he needs to be protected. If he's
the first—"
    "He's not," Bill cut her off sharply, his
blue eyes leaving no room for argument. "Even if this is what it
looks like," Bill picked up the stone again and held it in front of
her, "you cannot believe that this man if the first
werewolf."
    Anne cocked her head, then looked at the
man still unconscious on the sofa. "But that man attacked him, he
had that stone and shadow warriors. I heard him say something about
a thousand years. There has got to be a chance."
    Bill sighed and rubbed his face with an
aging hand.
    “ Please, Grandpa?” sShe begged.
Gordon had just yelled her into submission, she needed someone to
believe that she didn’t do this for nothing.
    He looked at her, searching her face
before nodding. "Tell me what this warlock looked like
again."
    It shouldn't be so important
that someone believed what she believed. But , if that man really was the first
werewolf from the legend, then he could overrule Gordon's decision
and she wouldn't have to get married.
    And, if he was not, well, at least she
could say that she stepped in and saved his life. She could also
tell herself that she’d done everything in her power to stop her
arranged marriage from ever happening.
    "He was short, my height, and wore a lot
of flapping, black clothes. His face was very rat-like and he had a
comb over. His hair and eyes were the same shade of
black."
    Bill nodded and looked back at the man on
the couch. "Shame he has no ID on him. Maybe then we could find out
where he comes from, see if we can contact any family for
him."
    His pockets had been
searched and
no wallet had been found. Before Gordon exploded on her, he
determined that the wallet must have been lost during the
destruction of the bar.
    "And, since we can't?" sShe
asked.
    Bill scratched his full head of silver
hair. "Gordon isn’t going to appreciate it, but this is beyond even
his power as pack master. If someone is out to kill him, and
there's a chance that he is the first wolf, we have an obligation
to protect him. But, because I don't think he is who you think he
is, the best course of action is to hide him. Just in
case."
    Anne cringed. "Because I brought him here
and endangered the rest of the pack," she said, repeating what
Gordon had screamed at her earlier.
    Bill nodded. "Yes. I know you meant well
and I'll talk to Gordon. He can't stay angry for long." He pulled
her close and kissed her forehead. "You did the right thing. I
think it would be best if we helped him out regardless of who he
might be. It’s not right to let a man be killed when we can do
something about it."
    She hugged him. "I'll stay here with him,
in case he wakes up." It was nearly dawn and he'd been out of it
for hours. He couldn't sleep for much longer.
    She, on the other hand, could use a
wolf nap.
    Bill looked at their sleeping guest, then
back at her with one grey eyebrow raised. Her grandpa had old
fashioned values. If a man and a woman were not married and not
related, they didn't spend the night together in a square, one
bedroom cabin where the only thing that separated the kitchen from
the sitting room was the table.
    Whether the man was unconscious or not
was beside the point.
    She removed his hands from her shoulders
and kicked off her boots. "I'll be fine. Gordon said he's my
responsibility anyway. He'll see that I'm taking what I did
seriously if I'm the one waiting for him to wake up. Plus, I kind
of feel bad. I was the one who smashed his head with the rock,
after all."
    Bill burst