4:45 p.m. Monday — The Cabin in the Woods
Jacob took the small stone key chain off his key ring and set it on the desk near the cabin window. Bai floated in the corner, legs crossed, perfectly upright yet somehow asleep. Outside, Marci sat on the porch steps, shoulders tight and head bowed.
The two hadn't exactly been on friendly terms. Marci wanted to go into town to hunt for leads; it took Jacob threatening to cuff her and leave her in the van to convince her to stay put. He didn't blame her — waiting felt like punishment.
After checking on Gwen (no change), Jacob went out and joined Marci on the steps.
"How are you holding up?" he asked quietly.
"Good, all things considered." She exhaled slowly, eyes distant.
Jacob had spent years coming to terms with the magical world; Marci had been thrown headfirst into it in a matter of days.
"How's the new perspective treating you?" he asked.
Marci snorted. "Magic's real, I'm talking to a werewolf, and the two men I'd call my grandpas are a demon and a dwarf. I'm just hoping I'm still drunk and this is some long nightmare after a bad horror movie."
Jacob laughed — a warm, real sound. "Wanna know something funny?"
"Sure."
"Were-mice are a thing."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what?"
"Yup. The movies always focus on werewolves, but there's a were-version for nearly every animal in the kingdom."
Marci blinked. "You're shitting me."
"I wouldn't shit you — you're my favorite turd." He gave her a thumbs-up, all Fonzie-like swagger.
"You're such a child."
Marci's laugh came out genuine this time.
"Gwen's gonna love you when she wakes up," she teased, sarcasm barely hiding her worry.
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2:45 p.m. Tuesday — Violet Moon's Cottage
"I'm so confused. I don't remember anything you just said." Gwen stared at William, eyes glazed with disbelief.
"Hildyard, are you certain this is your Gwen?" Hildwulf interjected.
"I promise you, she is my Gwen," William pleaded. "You have to remember."
But Gwen only shook her head. William began pacing, frustration turning his movements sharp.
"Violet! I know you're listening — what do you think?"
The spiral staircase creaked. Violet descended gracefully, a sly half-smile playing across her lips.
"What is with the shouting, William?" she purred.
He stepped forward, took her hands, and kissed them lightly. "V, I know you too well. I'm sure one of your little trinkets up there is enchanted to eavesdrop. You trade in secrets as much as charms."
She feigned outrage. "My dear William, I would never violate a customer's privacy!"
"V," Hildwulf cut in, "even I don't believe that — and I barely tolerate the man."
Violet laughed softly, straightening her cuffs. "Well, shucks, you caught me." Her tone was pure theater.
"I say we go to the mortal realm and put the two together in the same room."
William froze. "You want to put her in the same room as a group being hunted by Shadow Demons? V, are you mad? Hildyard, you can't support this!"
To his surprise, his brother actually looked concerned.
"Maybe he's changed," William thought grimly.
"Hildwulf," he said, "we need answers to a problem that keeps getting worse. I don't want to risk anyone else — especially not you — but if this gives us clarity, so be it."
Gwen rose slowly. "Do I get a say? You're talking like I'm not even here. I still have to find Jacob. I need to know he's okay."
A sharp KNOCK KNOCK echoed through the cottage. The sound was deliberate — whoever was outside wanted to be heard.
"Oh, perfect," Violet sighed. "A customer drawn by all the yelling. It's open."
The door creaked wide.
"Jacob!" Gwen's voice broke with relief.
William turned toward the entryway. "Officer Cain?" His confusion deepened when he saw the man's face.
Jacob stepped forward — but stopped at the threshold. His expression was cold, predatory.
"Let me go, it's Jacob! My sweet Jacob!" Gwen cried, trying to push past Violet.
Violet's hand shot out, blocking her path. "No."
William saw it then — the blood-stained linen shirt, the long unkempt hair, the bare feet and feral eyes. This wasn't the clean-cut officer he'd known.
Jacob lunged forward, hitting the invisible barrier with a hiss. A red shimmer flared, holding him back. He let out a hollowing cry — not the deep-throated howl of a wolf, but something wrong. A man unmade.
"Vampyre!" Hildwulf roared.
He pulled a small carved wooden axe from his vest pocket, holding it tight. "Restore."
The trinket pulsed with light, stretching and reforming into a full-sized Skeggox Axe, the lower blade trailing like a predator's fang. It hummed with old magic as Hildwulf twirled it in his hand, ready.
William clapped his palms together. With a hiss, two Rondel Daggers appeared, the blades rigid and perfect. In his grip, they weren't tools — they were death.
"The enchantment should hold," Violet said, voice calm but iron-hard.
Gwen struggled against her. "He's in pain — he needs me!"
"He needs blood, girl. That's all he's after now."
Violet pulled her closer, nose to nose. Gwen thrashed, but an elf's strength was unmatched. With one delicate motion, Violet blew a pinch of sparkling dust into Gwen's face.
Within seconds, Gwen's body went slack, her eyes softening as she fell into a calm, dreamlike haze.
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End of Chapter 21