Below is a chapter from our first book No Bones About It. We selected Chapter Ten since it is the beginning of a flashback sequence. The events in this chapter are hinted at in Chapter One and we feel it acts more as a prologue than a spoiler to anything in the book, so please enjoy!

CHAPTER TEN: Silver Chains

The moon was high in the sky, threatening to overpower the stars with the width of its curves. Not full, but near it. She’d used the light to skirt around the edge of the storage building, keeping beneath the windows. Suspecting this was one of the safehouses, she saw that there were no cars in the drive. It was out of the city, and she’d had to drive nearly thirty minutes out here to reach it. Her truck was parked down the road quite a ways, left in the open but appearing as if something had gone wrong while driving, as it was parked crooked and she’d left the hood slightly ajar.

Jimmying the lock to gain access, she pushed it open, entering cautiously. She rolled the small toolkit back up and slipping it into her back pocket beside the burner phone she carried on these missions. She had a small handgun pressed against her front right side, hidden by the looseness of her black shirt and tucked underneath the band of her denim. Each step was calculated, slow and easy so as not to make noise. Having investigated on the hunch of one of her informants, this was part of a favor to Arthur. The man always sent her to the darkest damn places, and she had no problem reminding him that the police could handle some affairs. Frankly, she’d not understood his interest in this case until her eyes slid over to a gleaming cage. Gleaming, because the bars were clean and they weren’t iron. 

The cage was small, too small. The silver bars of it had been set just far enough apart that if the creature sat in the middle of it, curled into a ball, he’d not brush against them. Of course, that did nothing to soothe the proximity of the silver-etched runes in the collar wrapped around his neck. The monster was well and truly trapped and bound, his will no longer his own. With the full moon so close, it was taking all of his considerable self-control not to lose himself to madness. To bash his body against silver bars he couldn’t break, to claw his neck out trying to get at a collar he couldn’t touch. 

A new scent caught his attention and he looked up, barely raising a gruff chin, seeing a young woman enter the room where his cage was being kept. She wasn’t familiar, clearly not an intended victim, but not his captor either. He fixed her with his great yellow eyes and she could see the intelligence there, and the monstrous, unfathomable rage.

Charlie knew none of this. Only that whatever was within the cage did not growl at her, nor make any threatening movements. The uncomfortable gaze of the creature simply looked back, and she froze. Her beating heart had a weakness for its curled-up position and her flashlight that had been rather pointedly shone in his face lowered to observe the cage itself. 

It was obvious she was upset at the cruelty of his treatment, but before she stepped further into the light she had to clear the room. Safety from whatever else might lie there had to come first. “I’ll be back in a second,” she told him, even if he did not understand what she said. Though she slipped off to confirm there was no danger presenting itself immediately, she would keep her word.

Charlie had caught the Wolf off guard by speaking to him. She was going to be right back? What was this woman thinking? Wolf watched her, shifting slowly to keep an eye on her as she moved, always careful to never let his flesh touch the silver bars.

The Wolf tasted the scent of the woman as she walked away from him and he was surprised at the flavor of it. There was fear and tension as he’d have suspected, but neither in the amounts he would have thought. There were also no noticeable spikes when her gaze fell on him, although her heartbeat did increase just a tad. His animal side growled and raged within his mind. It wanted to tear the human apart, as it was angry and violent and desperate to bite back at what had hurt it, but lacking direction.

But the moon wasn’t full just yet.

While he could still maintain control, he would; so instead of growling or trying to move, he simply watched as the woman moved about the barn.

Charlie was moderately frightened, but she wasn’t a fool. A large, caged animal wasn’t going to frighten her, even if it was a wolf. When she released it she would do so carefully, in a way that the cage door came back in order to prevent it from snapping or getting to her. At least, that was the plan as she rounded the warehouse, finding a few larger cages that were empty at the time. Cursing her luck on that part, she found buckets within them and signs of a more human presence. Toilet paper, cloth rearranged into a bedlike formation. The thought was sickening. Her abounding rage now covered her fear. Rounding back to the cage, she bent down before it just enough to be eye to eye. Before it had been but a fleeting glance, but now she was searching for a way to free him. She could call animal control afterward; they could pick him up and return him to wherever he came from. 

Close enough now to have a decent look, what she saw gave her pause. Before, she’d ignored the wiggle in the back of her mind that spoke of matters not being what they seemed; but now that she was face-to-face with him, she knew something wasn’t right. Even if she could not put her finger on it. 

“Hey there,” she said softly, soothingly, like one spoke to any animal; but there was a hesitation now, for she felt there was more to this beast than just those attributes.

Throughout her entire exploration of the barn, the wolf had watched her. Silent, moving slowly, carefully, like it was afraid of touching the bars, but too curious not to keep its eyes on her. When she finally returned and approached a bit closer, her sense of scale for the beast within the bars finally started to kick in. 

Perhaps due to how tight of a ball it was in, or perhaps because she hadn’t gotten close enough earlier, she realized just how large of a creature the wolf was. Exact numbers were hard to guess with it forced low and tight around itself, but the thing looked like it was likely as big as a horse. 

Its size made its eyes all the more ominous. The intelligence and anger were still there in spades, but there was also something else behind those predatory orbs. Yet he still didn’t get hostile, despite all the pain he was in.

And closer inspection would reveal that it was in pain. The fur around the collar encircling its neck was burned away, the skin covered in blisters that disturbingly seemed to be healing and reforming before her eyes. Whatever this thing was, it may look like a wolf, but she knew deep down in her bones it wasn’t a natural wolf.

“You’re absolutely massive.” Of all the things that might have come out of her mouth, that was the last thing one might expect, for the Captain Obvious words were beneath her but the pure shock of realizing his size just brought it forward. Even if he was genetically modified to be such a size, it would not allow him to make advances so quickly in his intelligence. Wolves were intelligent, but not enough to not snap out in anger if they felt it. The fact he resisted told her one of the only things she needed to know—he had it out for a certain person, and she simply was not it. 

Wolf almost snorted in amusement as she commented on his size, but he didn’t. If he had, his skin might have touched the bars, and even with his considerable self-control that would have driven him mad enough to start gnashing his own flesh . . . since that would have been the only thing his teeth could reach. 

When she saw the collar on his neck her teeth clenched. She was already slipping the tools out of her pocket to at least attempt to pick the lock. Try the easiest manner of handling things first, she reminded herself, for she was perfectly willing to beat the cage into submission if she had to. 

“That bloody tool of a man,” she said underneath her breath as she found the lock. She put her flashlight in her mouth to hold it steady; the move was practiced, and kept her from speaking further. Brows furrowed, her anger seemed to roll off of her in waves, and even if her mouth couldn’t be involved it did not need to be for her to feel righteous in her actions.

Wolf just sat there and watched the woman. This almost caused him to hit the bars, as he nearly jumped in surprise when she actually started trying to pick the silver lock. It was a good lock, but not a masterwork by any means, so she’d not have much trouble with it if she was any good. But picking the lock was, to his mind, quite a leap of faith on her part. What was she planning?

Charlie kept working despite his thoughts. Being gifted meant that her sense of things was quite a bit beyond others. People, for instance, always had a distinct aura, and when she was a young girl she almost always knew who to avoid. Malice was hard to disguise, and she felt no true malice within him towards her. Feeling the tumblers in the lock give way, she took the flashlight out of her mouth before she moved to the last one. It was only one flick of the wrist away, but for once she was having second thoughts. “You’re not going to hurt me are you?” 

Why she was asking it now was simply because of her usual timid nature. Even going so far as to have started on the lock was beyond her normal reasoning. But she felt drawn here, drawn back to him. The flashlight settled in her hand between her fingers, the beam pointing at the ceiling, but the dim light it cast in his direction was well enough to see.

Wolf’s self-control faltered just a bit when she stopped and spoke, a snort leaving his muzzle in a blast of air that made her hair fly up. Even though it was distinctly animal in nature, it was obvious that the great beast had just laughed at her, likely because of how ridiculous it was to ask something that couldn’t speak whether or not it would hurt her. The reaction almost cost him, though, as his body shifted slightly and some of his hair brushed against the silver bars, getting singed in the process.

His response seemed childish to Charlie, but deserved at her rather blatantly late question, and she gave him a slight look that said ‘knock it off’ but she could not maintain it for long. She half-smiled as she retook the tumblers and said softly, “Sense of humor, check.” 

It was easier to speak openly around animals. They usually didn’t judge, other than to determine if you were predator or prey. Whether they were the latter, if they were in danger, came next. Obviously he was not in danger from her, but she was from him. He was gigantic and could rip her apart without issue. She was the prey here if he so chose to see it that way, but something about his eyes told her this was the right thing to do. 

“There.” The lock clicked just as she said it and released the pressure on the mechanism. Pulling it back as she moved, she left him plenty of room to step outward.

For the first time in longer than he cared to dwell on, the door was open without the voice of the wizard pounding in his skull, without the madness of the beast driving him to action. He wasn’t truly free, not yet, not while he still had the collar on ,but he could stretch his legs on his own terms and that was a joy in and of itself.

Unfolding slowly, he carefully, gingerly, stepped outside of the silver cage, ever careful to avoid touching the bars. The constant sting of the collar on his neck was taking much of his willpower to control, and now was not the time to give himself a shock and go mad. Finally, though, he was free of the bars and he looked down at his savior—literally, as in his wolf form he was eight feet tall at the shoulder. 

He eyed her in silence for a long moment before exposing his neck to her, revealing the collar around it and the wounds it was dealing him. Perhaps she’d go so far as to remove it.

Charlie was left observing how he’d stepped through the opening. He exhibited intelligence in a methodical manner. It did not take a genius, however, to work out that he was attempting to avoid touching the bars that were beside him as he exited. The collar she had seen earlier, but it wasn’t until he craned his neck she worked out its true damage. 

“What kind of monster . . .” She wasn’t referring to him, nor was it a question. She was already looking for a clasp or other such way to remove the collar without touching him right away. He was too high for her to reach easily, considering she was a few feet shorter to start. “If you’ll lay down, I can probably get it off,” she offered.

Charlie didn’t know the kind of monster who’d done this to him. Then again, she didn’t know the kind of monster she was about to free. Wolf obliged her request, laying down on his belly to allow her access to the collar. There was a clasp, though it was partly crushed shut, as clearly it wasn’t meant to be removed.

Breaking it would be simpler than forcing it open, but she needed leverage and a way to keep it off his already injured neck. The bolt cutters she’d brought in might be suitable, but they’d take time and effort she wasn’t sure she had. Besides, if tampering with it shocked him she would feel guilty. 

“It’s not going to be easy to open. I’m afraid that if I try and force it that it will shock you as well,” she explained, conveying her dilemma and why she was taking so long to figure out a plan. “I could use the bolt cutters . . .”  They had rubber grips, it would insulate her against it but not him.

Cocking his head, Wolf looked at the woman curiously, realizing she thought the collar around his neck was one of the shock variety. It appeared as though she’d not pieced together that what was paining him were the silver studs layered into the collar that were jabbing at his neck. So he simply looked her in the eye, shifting his head, before nodding it up and down giving her permission to cut it off.

“All right.” Her assumptions were made off the idea that he was some sort of genetic mutation to another creature. She’d seen quite a bit of the supernatural, considering that ghosts made it their sole duty to bother her on a semi-normal basis. Heading back to the door in order to grab the cutters she’d left there, she returned a moment later. Slipping them underneath from the side, it took all her strength to slam the things to cleave the collar halfway. Readjusting, she did not know how painful it would be for him unless he physically showed it, other than tugging on already softened skin.

As soon as Wolf felt a bit of give, he shook his great head hard until the collar went flying away. This put the horrible line of burned and scarred skin that rimmed his neck into full view. 

Rising back to his towering eight feet, he looked down at Charlie with his large, yellow eyes. Then he leaned in and pressed his nose to her face in a sign of gratitude. Charlie had looked upward when he lowered his nose, touching her face with the cool skin. When he drew back she touched her own nose, a chill settling there.

Then, almost faster than her eyes could track, he was gone. There was an almighty crack as a hole opened in the side of the barn, and through it she could see the rapidly vanishing form of the wolf and the house in the distance.