CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Hayley kept backing away until she hit the wall. She stared at the...thing that was coming towards her.
“It can't be,” she wheezed. “Y-you're dead! You c-can't be Strom!”
But it was.
Hayley could smell the stench of death and decay as Strom stalked across her bedroom. His eyes were dead and cold, and his mouth was caked with dried blood. The wounds on his face and arms gaped open grotesquely. He was dead so he couldn't bleed and his wounds couldn't heal. He was a walking corpse, but his movements weren't stiff and awkward. If anything, he seemed to have become even faster, stronger and more dangerous.
Hayley whimpered when she saw the brutal teeth marks around his neck. There were deep punctures in his neck, and his gray skin was covered with dark stains and dirt. His clothes hung in shreds from his discolored, mutilated body.
Strom gave a rattling laugh and a red flame flared in his eyes. “I'm back!” He threw out his arms, flinging earth and bits of his decaying flesh on her walls.
Hayley shook her head. “No...you...you're dead...”
“Yes,” Strom said. His voice was gravelly and grating, like rocks grinding tortuously against each other. “I've returned to avenge my own death. And to take what is mine.”
He took a step closer and Hayley flung the lamp at his head. The lamp smashed into pieces and a long nail lodged itself in the middle of Strom's forehead.
A jagged shard from the broken lamp sliced across Strom's cheek. But there was no blood. His gray skin simply peeled away, revealing the rotting flesh beneath.
“W-what are you?” Hayley whispered, shrinking back.
Strom grinned horribly and turned in an awkward circle. “I'm dead. But I'm walking around.” He gave that terrible laugh again. “I'm the walking dead.”
Hayley made a strangled sound. Strom had been awful when he was a werewolf, but at least he could be killed. How do you kill a zombie werewolf?
“Who made you?” Hayley said, edging sideways. If she could get to the door, she might be able to make a run for it.
“A nice, helpful witch brought me back to life,” Strom answered.
“A witch.” Hayley swallowed painfully. Grayson was right. A witch was involved. She thought of Yaya and squeezed her eyes shut for an instant. Yaya was a powerful witch, but she wouldn't do this. No, it wasn't Yaya. Yaya would never do this.
Hayley glared at Strom and said through clenched teeth, “Tell me her name.”
Strom turned his head towards the door. A tall, slim woman was standing silently in the doorway. Hayley started. How long had she been standing there? Had she just appeared?
The woman glided into the room and Hayley gasped when the moonlight illuminated her face. It was that pretty, well-dressed lady at the bookstore. “Madam Betty Morg! You're the bookstore owner...”
The woman smiled. “Yes, you came to ask me for a job. But I'm not really a bookstore owner,” the woman said, circling Hayley slowly. “And my name isn't Betty Morg.”
She pointed a long finger at Strom and smiled. “She asked you for my name. Tell her.”
Strom bared his teeth and articulated her name slowly and deliberately. “Blair Morgan.”
When Hayley gave her a blank look, Blair Morgan rolled her eyes and said, “You've never heard of the oldest witch in Wolves Hollow.” She laughed. “Of course you haven't. You're just a silly little human.”
“Oldest witch? You can't be older that Yaya,” Hayley blurted out, staring at the young woman in front of her.
Blair Morgan was wearing a flowing white gown and her silky black hair cascaded down her back. Her skin was smooth and translucent, and Hayley could see her shapely, svelte figure through her wispy, gossamer dress. She looked like she was in her late twenties at most. “You look like you're even younger than me!” Hayley said, reeling with disbelief and shock.
Blair looked straight at Hayley, and Hayley froze as she stared into those deep, dark depths. It was like staring into a bottomless abyss. Those weren't the eyes of a young woman at all.
The witch smiled. “You flatter me, Hayley.” Hayley heard the words, even though Blair's lips didn't move at all.
“What do you want?” Hayley choked out.
“Why, I want what every woman wants. To remain young and beautiful forever.” Blair laughed. “What a silly question.” She tilted up her chin and the smile vanished from her face. “And I want to make the wolves pay. They ran me out of town, hunted me, tried to make sure that I never returned to Wolves Hollow again. But I did return. I came home, and I will destroy the wolf packs by destroying their Alphas.”
She smiled sweetly. “Oh, do you want to know the secret of my everlasting youth?” she told Hayley in a conspiratorial whisper. “The heart and brain of a damaged, tormented Alpha.”
Blair trailed a long nail down Hayley's face. A thin line of blood appeared. “I was supposed to get a living heart and brain, but...those she-wolves brought me a dead body instead.” The witch cocked her head at Strom. “He was already dead, so I couldn't use his heart and brain for my elixir. But I found another use for him. I brought him back to life so he could finish his unfinished business, and get me what I need at the same time.”
“What do you need?” Hayley found herself asking even though she dreaded the answer.
“From you? I need...your tongue. A fresh human tongue gives my potions some added oomph and power. Oh, and the heart and brain of an Alpha wolf for my elixir of youth.” Blair curled her long fingers into claws over Hayley's chest and leaned in. “The heart must still be beating when I rip it from the body,” she whispered. “Grayson Edge will do nicely.”
Hayley's fear boiled to rage. Her fist flew out and connected with Blair's jaw. The bitch's face was hard and cold. It was like punching a block of ice!
Hayley sucked her throbbing knuckles and snarled, “You won't get Grayson! You...you'll never find him.”
“Oh, I won't have to go after him. He'll come to me,” Blair said, wiping the side of her face that Hayley had punched. Her face twisted in disgust, not pain.
“Grayson will see right through your spells. You can't trap him. He will never come to you,” Hayley said fiercely.
“Oh, he will come...for you.” Blair Morgan let out a laugh as she eyed Hayley. “You seem to hold an irresistible appeal to dead wolves.”
The witch flicked a contemptuous glance at Strom. “Strom is dead. And—Grayson Edge will soon be dead.”