Waking Up Dead (The Western Werewolf Legend #1) by Catherine Wolffe Page B

faced
before me.”
    Candor of such a degree pained her in
several waves. Releasing a breath, Sonja rubbed at her arms. A cool
wisp of air suddenly enveloped her. “Yours is not uncommon, still,
I regret your plight.” Her own plight seemed paltry in the face of
such loss. “You’re in my prayers, General.”
    His stony eyes held no emotion as he
spoke. “I’m beyond prayers, ma’am, but I would appreciate those
prayers for my wife and children. They will need all the prayers
now.” Tipping his cavalry hat to them both, his tone warmed as he
assured Briann, “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of him.” He
spurred the great steed, galloping toward the front of the line of
slow moving men.
    As he rode off, the dust cloud
erupting behind his mount. Tiny squeals of excited laughter floated
back to them on the gentle breeze.
    “ Poor man.” Briann’s voice
laced with sympathy.
    The Guardian spoke from behind them.
“He grieves for his life. Were it in my power, I would set him free
from the hell the monsters sentenced him to endure.”Tapping his
horse lightly with his quip, the Guardian stared straight ahead at
the general’s shrinking image. His gentleman’s face wreathed in
concern bore a true measure of the group’s plight. Each member of
the small band of refugees was dealing with the upheaval of their
world. Some for obvious reasons and others for something imagined
only in horror stories.
    Sonja glanced askance at the Guardian.
The only sounds between them, the light squeak of the wagon wheels
as the gentle sway of the rolling boxes lurched forward with the
mule teams’ efforts.
    The weight of all their woes seemed
insurmountable. Wanting desperately to change the subject, Sonja
asked, “Are we really headed to Texas?”
    “ To Texas?” The Guardian
searched the trees flanking the roadside. As his eyes narrowed in
the dimming light, his attention returned to Sonja. “Yes, as you
already know, the lieutenant has a ranch there where these men will
be safe. Your change can occur without witness and little danger
will come to you or others.”
    He spoke of the fact she’d became a
werewolf at the onset of each full moon like she changed clothes,
without the notion of repercussions or reprisal. “Will I ever be
able to view this as a good thing?” Her question was one she
considered often, but hadn’t spoke of before. Uneasy with her own
insecurity, she dropped her gaze from his. One of the mules balked.
She slapped the animal across the backside with her
whip.
    In the guise of a man, the Guardian
appeared so normal, he could have passed as a gentleman of
distingue. No one would have guessed he was overly grotesque, a
hairy monster with bleary eyes and slobbering jowls. “In time
you’ll shimmer from human to werewolf without consideration or
concern. Yes, the change will be as natural as breath. Still I
cannot offer relief with a shift in temper.”
    Briann gathered her sister’s slender
hand in hers and squeezed. “The way of things isn’t for us to know.
You’ll see what he means in time, dear.”
    She spoke as if an expert. Yet,
frustration filled Sonja. The old witch spoke in nothing but
riddles and vague references. She could ill afford her own sister
doing the same. Unable to fault Briann, she supposed her sister
couldn’t help it. After all, the gift of reading a person’s
thoughts came with drawbacks as well as advantages. Tugging at her
shawl as the night air began to set in, Sonja recalled the many
nights her sister would cry herself to sleep with the pain of being
an outcast in a world of cruel, small-minded fools. Briann’s gift
was a battering ram for their taunts. Being different wasn’t easy
for most to understand and the girls had weathered many a hard time
at the hands of those around them. It was probably the reason she
considered herself a loner.
    “ My wish for you is that
you are able to acquire the skills necessary to utilize your gift
to the best of your ability.”