Blood on the Moon - serialised EXCLUSIVE for Steemit! - 36

Blood On The Moon Cover

Amazon link

My third novel was finished and published in time for Halloween 2016 and I had a launch at Waterstone's at Sheffield.

The full book cover, done by the wonderful, talented, brilliant Paul Mudie

Other Images from Pixabay or Google (Free Usage)

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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35

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“What are you following me for, Lickspittle?” She asked the question as she lowered him from his vantage point.

“Sentinel, my name is Entwistle and I believe you know that.”

His tone, rather than being respectful and grateful at being released, became haughty and even arrogant and Hazel at once wondered what gave him that arrogance.

Who was he allied with that made the insignificant smear of faeces believe that he had no need to fear her? He pulled at the collar of his shirt as though that were the reason for his discomfort.

“I wasn’t following you at all; I think that you may be getting paranoid because of your position.”

Hazel snarled at the subordinate’s disrespect and in a split-second had part-Wolfed her features. She was so practiced at the transformation that she didn’t have to think about what she was doing, her face made the alterations of its own volition or so it seemed. Her nose elongated to accommodate her teeth and they re-arranged themselves into place ready to rend flesh from bone.

Entwistle closed his eyes and prayed for his salvation.

“Open your eyes, Lickspittle. I won’t kill you this time, but know this, you are on very thin ice with me and I dare you to take one more step. If I find that you are trying to follow me again or that you have been asking questions about my business or the business of the Lycaeon, I shall hunt you down and serve my own special judgement upon you.”

She turned away from him, dismissing him.

“You can’t do that, Sentinel. You still have to abide by the First Laws and you are certainly not allowed to kill another Wolf. Like it or not, I was given special dispensation by the Council. I may have been made Wolf illegally but I am now fully legal and a member of Wolf Society. I have my rights and they are the same as yours.”

She turned slowly back to face him and all arrogance and self-assuredness trickled from him, along with the contents of his bladder. He didn’t notice that he had pissed himself because he was terrified at the visage that now faced him.

Hazel had made a complete transformation as he was speaking and the Wolf that stood before him wore human clothes but that was the only semblance of humanity left.

Her head was low, at shoulder height, her eyes were bright and clear and shone with a malevolence that Entwistle had heard of, and imagined but never yet seen. Now that he was face-to-face with it, he wished to all that was holy that he wasn’t.

Her lips were curled back so that he could see the entire length of her razor-sharp teeth and the saliva that glistened on them. He knew then that if she so wanted, she could take his life and suffer the consequences – if there were any to be suffered – and not give a second’s thought to any punishment dealt.

He knew also that he would be blubbering the answers to any questions she asked and hoping that he got away from this experience with his miserable life even partly intact if she wanted answers from him.

He had never been so scared, not even on the evening when the Wolf attacked him and left him to die.

Entwistle had been fortunate on that night but he doubted that fortune would be smiling on him this time. He had pushed too far.

“Please my Lady. I apologise. I am still very new to this experience and I do not yet know my place. I am so very sorry that I followed you and even more sorry that I was disrespectful to you. I assure you, on my life, that it will never happen again, but please, spare me.”

“You miserable mongrel, get out of my sight!” she snarled at him and was changing back to her usual and human form even as he fell over his own feet and half-crawled, half scuttled in his scramble to vacate the area.

He looked back once and saw that she still watched him. Her silhouette framed in the entrance to the alley, back-lit by the street-lights of the courtyard behind her.

He had run along a few streets before he realised that his groin was cold and damp and a fresh wave of embarrassment and resentment washed over him.

He clenched his fists and raised his face to the waning moon – the reason that he had not been able to face the other Wolf in kind – and he vented his anger.

“I hate that fucking bitch! I hope someone force-feeds her silver and I hope I’m there to see it happen!”

His fingernails bit deep into the palms of his hands and were oozing blood. He looked down at them and became fascinated by the eight mirror-image droplets on his palms and he licked the blood and savoured the taste.