The Song in the Silver Read Free Page A

kiss...”
    “And you shall.”
    He stood, unable to move or think as her mouth descended on his. The icy bliss of her kiss flooded his mind, and all he knew was that he wanted her, that he must have her, that he must give himself to her. Her mouth possessed him, and she caressed his face, her fingers as cold as steel, freezing him to the spot. She slid a hand down his chest, across the broad muscles, and then down over his stomach. He was hers. All he could ever remember was that he belonged to her and must give her all that she desired.
    “Mine? Are you mine?”
    “Yes. I am yours...”
    The infinite black pools of her eyes held him captive. A grin spread across her face, wide and evil, to reveal a row of perfect white teeth interrupted by two long, slim fangs. A cackle echoed on the stone walls, and she fell forward onto him, driving her fangs into the naked flesh of his neck, piercing his skin, and freeing his blood to flow into her mouth.
    His eyes were suddenly wide, and he knew. The pain of her bite swept away her spell, and he knew himself again. His hands fell to his sides, one feeling something cold and metallic. He grabbed Mary’s necklace, cold silver that, as his lifeblood flowed away, burned his flesh.
    He managed to gasp, “No...”
    The howl of a wolf, clear and close, rent the air, and the bothy door swung wide in the wind. The baobhan sith lifted her mouth from his neck, blood running from her fangs and down her chin, dripping onto him. She turned her cold, dead eyes from her victim and looked to the door as two wolves, silver gray in the moonlight, sped up the path and burst through the doorway.
    She howled a demonic scream of total frustration and spun around, her long green dress swinging wide and revealing her cloven hooves beneath legs that began as a woman’s. She moved with an unnatural speed to the side as the first wolf sprang at her, and would have escaped through the door and into the night but for the second, smaller wolf. It leaped up at her, its powerful, heavy paws suddenly on her shoulders, pushing her backward against the fireplace. She snarled in futile rage as the wolf bared its teeth and lunged for her throat, but at that very moment, the bottom of her long, green cloak swung into the flame of the peat fire. It caught instantly, and the fire roared into life, as if it, too, were set on ridding the world of her evil. Her entire dark green garment was suddenly aflame, and the wolf fell back to avoid being caught in the conflagration that engulfed her.
    Her black eyes filled with an evil rage as a final, unearthly wail of pain and anger leaped from her snarling, bloodstained mouth.
    And then she was gone.
    The fire burned no more, and in the deathly cold silence, a cloud of black ash fell to the floor.
    Beside the smaller wolf, there now stood a tall woman in a silver-gray fur cloak. She hurried to William, who had fallen back onto the blood-soaked blankets, his hand closed tight on the silver, though it burned him deeply.
    “He is changing. We are too late to save him from that. Her bite has done for his mortal life. He will walk the night now. But we must take him away from here. If the farmers find him in the morning, they will bury him with a stake through his heart, and I cannot see a love so pure taken from this world. Hurry now and bring the Pack. We will take him to the cave,” she said.
    She lifted William in her arms and stroked his blood-soaked face and hair.
    He looked up into the silver-blue eyes of the wolf-woman, the pain in his hand burning deeper as his lifeblood ebbed. His eyes fluttered, and his consciousness faded into black.
    ***
    Mary woke in the dead still of night as the distant sound of... What was it? A wolf? But no wolf she had heard before. It was high and distant, aching and angry—and terrifying. Not human, but not animal, either. Then she heard the howling of wolves, nearer, louder, almost a conversation in howls.
    Then suddenly it was quieter as the