Page 7 of A Cursed Noel
“Do I?” she asks.She cocks her head, her beady eyes shimmering with malice and enoughcrazy to give me pause. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t remember.”She cackles again. “This could be part of the problem.”
I don’t like gamesand I’m in no mood to play. “What problem?”
She twiddles herfingers, the motions growing frantic as her thoughts overtake her.
I jump up when themirror image of me appears andchanges, becoming my wolf andtearing into a werehyena that leaps from the brush.
I know this hyena. Iencountered him in Mafeteng.
His back strikes thetree to my right, bringing it down from the force of my charge. Istart toward the illusion of him and of me, the roar and temptationof battle calling me forth.
I stop in my tracks.Mimi is screwing with me. Thiswereprotected the witch whomurdered my father. A witch that no one had ever challenged andlived. Mimi isn’t simply pulling things from midair. She’spulling my memories, showing me what I did.
Once grown, mostweresrange between four and six hundred pounds in their animal form. Thishyena teetered close to the latter, where I remain close to theformer. But what he had in muscle and brute strength, I made up forin speed and anger.
His fangs find mythroat, cutting through the muscle and severing my jugular. Like afountain, my blood spews onto his spotted face and blinds us both.
He almost had me. Hewould have taken me out. But my claws, and my commitment to avenge myfather, wouldn’t allow it. I broke his ribcage wide open and sankmy fangs through his heart.
I cup my throat as theimage of mechangesback to my human form. The pressure I adddoesn’t help me like it did then. As I watch, the healing power ofmy wolf knits the surrounding tissue closed and slows the bloodsoaking my chest.
My hand falls away as Itake in my kill, just as I did that day. I should have sat and restedmy beaten form, given how my wolf worked overtime to save me.Instead, I kicked over the hyena’s carcass and watched himchangeback to human. Even in death, my pride wouldn’t allow him to see meweak.
His limbs quiver as thelast of his lifeline trickles along the muddy ground. His chest iswide open. There’s nothing left of his hyena spirit to heal him.Even if there was, the damage I inflicted was far beyond his ability.
In human form, he wastall and lean; very unlike the formidable beast he became. His soleswere deeply calloused for awere. This was someone used towalking down stony paths and rough terrain barefoot.
I tilt his chin up withmy foot. He died with his eyes wide opened. He hadn’t expected meto beat him. I proved him wrong, just as I had his spell-wieldingmistress. She was my first kill, and the one who had mattered themost.
I thought killing thewitch responsible for my father’s death would bring me a sense ofaccomplishment, maybe even an inkling of peace. All it did was makeme lust after evil, to bring it down so no one would ever hurt likewe have.
A mournful cry fills mysurroundings as the rushing wind breaks through the trees and coolsmy skin. The hyena’s woman appears, clutching a child against herchest. She throws herself on top of her dead mate, burying her faceagainst his, as the little girl she holds whimpers in fear.
I watch the image of mestagger away from her, dizzy from the amount of blood I lost. My darkbrown hair is red from the carnage, the longer length on top,plastered against my forehead.
Blood and death comewith battle. That’s okay with me. What I don’t like is how mylight brown eyes fire with that lust to kill as they take in thewoman and her child.
I take a step back, notliking what I see now. But that other me? The me then. He watchesthem for a long time, licking his lips as if he can already tastethem.
Chapter Three
The image fades away.I allowed the woman and child to live, but only just barely.
“Did you know he onlyworked for the witch to spare and help his family?” Mimi asks.
“Didyouknowhow many women and children he brought to her to kill? How manyhekilled for her?” I counter.
Mimi laughs. She’shaving fun. I’m not. “No,” she admits. “But his wife andchild were just innocent little doves, weren’t they? Cute littlethings you yearned to slaughter.”
I don’t argue, hatingthe disgust that roils my stomach. I shove it down with more rage.
“What do you want,Mimi? Are you here to haunt me? Do you have some twisted need to makeme relive each one of my kills?” I cross my arms. “Go, ahead.Everything I did was just and within our laws. Do your worst.”
Her grin widens enoughto show the gray color along her gumline and the few teeth stillhanging on for dear life.
Like an idiot, Ichallenged her to do her worst. I’ll give it to Mimi, she doesn’tdisappoint.
I’m back inside myhouse, just outside my parent’s suite. The hall is dark. I didn’tbother to switch on the chandelier that my grandparents gifted Momand Dad on their wedding day.