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Her frail arm reared back over her head as she swung the switch toward the soles of my feet, ignoring my cries as I fought against the restraints.
“Deny the beast!” She shouted. “You must be able to control yourself. Even if you are in pain. Even if you are filled with rage. You must remain yourself. You must remain untouched by the wolf.”
I woke with a start, my arms still wrapped around the metal trashcan in my office.
Wyatt knelt down, pushing my hair away from my face. The black tendrils were stringy with sweat. I looked up at him blearily, uncertain if I had fallen asleep or was seeing things.
I wiped the saliva from my lips with the back of my hand.
“Do you want me to cut him down?” Wyatt asked.
I shook my head. “We’ll have to call the police. The longer we wait, the more suspicious it looks.”
Wyatt eyed me. “This is your ex-husband?” He guessed.
I nodded. “There is no magic on him.”
“Do you think he’s the kind of man to do this?” Wyatt waved a hand toward the body and the sight of his limp legs dangling sent another wave of sickness through me.
“Can we get out of the office?” I begged.
Wyatt nodded, helping me up.
I didn’t speak until the door was shut behind us, and Joel’s body was out of sight. “I don’t feel bad. I mean, I feel sick, but it’s not because I love him or because of shock; it's because someone killed him and justlefthim there for me to find.”
“His pants are still ripped from Kaleb’s bite,” Wyatt noted.
“Do you think he came straight here?” I wrung my hands together.
Wyatt’s brow furrowed, and he glanced back to the door, troubled. “I don’t know.”
Joel was taken to the county morgue, but by the time the police left, suicide was mentioned several times.
I was told not to leave town, but other than that, Wyatt and I were free to go.
We got in the car, ready to go to the motel on the edge of town, as sunset fast approached.
I hadn’t spoken a word for most of the day except for answering questions about Joel and the last time I had seen him.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Joel’s hanging body.
“Melly is waiting at the Locket Inn outside of town,” Wyatt informed me as we drove. The tendons in his hands stood stark as he clenched his fists and pressed them against his thighs.
“It’s just for a night,” I assured him. “If you were worried about me.”
“You just saw your husband’s corpse.” He countered. “Anyone in their right mind wouldn’t want to be alone right now.”
I loosened a small, shaky breath. “Is it wrong to feel relieved? Even just a tiny bit?”
“Kaleb told me what happened. What he did to you.” Wyatt glanced at me. “I don’t think you’re wrong to feel like you do.”
“Part of me doesn’t believe it's real. That Joel’s going to walk out in front of this car.” I waved a hand to the windscreen. “What about Faith? And their baby?”
“Do you think he did that to himself?” Wyatt did not turn his head from the windscreen and the road.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “There weren’t any unusual magic signatures.”
“Nor smells.” Wyatt agreed.
