Return of the Wolf Man by Jeff Rovin Read Free Book Online Page A

“You’re afflicted.”
    “There’s evil in all of us. This thing you call an affliction lets it come out.” He touched the glass. “Today I will find a way to kill that evil before anyone else can be killed . . . or cursed, as I am.”
    A part of Joan understood the man’s self-pity. A part of her also found it weak and objectionable. And a part of her didn’t want Talbot to die for purely selfish reasons. Joan Raymond had spent her entire life solving mysteries. She had to know if what he’d told her was true. Because if his condition were supernatural rather than biological, it would be very difficult for her to go back to the real world, hunting down missing art, jewelry, and people.
    “Mr. Talbot,” she said patiently, “you were in England during the war. Weren’t there times when the struggle against the Axis seemed hopeless?”
    “There were.”
    “But we pressed on. We found ways to win. We invented new weapons. I believe in hoping for the best, not the worst.”
    “You’re young,” Talbot said. “When you’ve experienced what I have you become weary. You have to fight to hold on to hope.” With easy grace Talbot leaned toward the mirror and removed it from the wall. Dust flew from the frame and flickered as it caught the candlelight. Talbot raised the mirror above his head then stepped back and dropped it to the floor. Joan winced as the glass shattered in large chunks. Then Talbot lifted the frame and threw it aside. He bent and picked up a large, jagged piece of the mirror. He looked at it longingly.
    “This should do.”
    “Don’t,” Joan said. “Come with me. We’ll find help. And if that doesn’t work out then I’ll help you end your life.”
    “It’s too late for that,” Talbot said. His eyes on the piece of glass, he dropped to his knees, turned the silvered side up, and placed the point against the pentagram on his chest. He put both hands around the glass then looked at Joan. “I ask only one thing. If you truly believe that I am not like the Frankenstein Monster or Count Dracula, tell that to people. Tell them that Lawrence Talbot had a conscience . . . that he was not entirely inhuman.”
    “I do believe that,” Joan said as she looked at him. “Which is why it’s wrong to do what you’re doing.”
    He looked over at her. “Thank you,” he said. As sad as his face appeared, it seemed more at peace right now than it had all night. “But the greater wrong is to keep on living.” He looked from the woman to his chest. As he pressed the point into his skin, his hands began to shake. His cheeks and jowls began to darken. “Oh, God!” he moaned. “No!”
    “What is it?” Joan asked. But even as she asked she knew the answer. Talbot had said that the wolf would emerge if he tried to take his life.
    “Help . . . me!” Talbot cried as his lips pulled back from his teeth. Thick spittle began to roll along his upper and lower teeth. His hands trembled violently. “God . . . help me!”
    Joan shook her head and stepped back. She bumped into the front door and watched as Talbot struggled to put the glass through his chest.
    “Please!” Talbot wailed. “He’s resisting —trying to get out!”
    “No! Whatever it is, you’ve got to fight it!”
    Talbot’s nails began to grow. His nose seemed to tighten and grow darker. “Don’t you understand?” Talbot cried. “I won’t be able to control him! He’ll stop me and then he’ll hunt you down!”
    Joan had always prided herself on being a woman of principle. An idealist, always choosing the right course over the convenient one. But she wasn’t foolish. Breathing deeply, she ran toward Talbot.
    “God help us both,” she said as she knelt in front of him. Her face was directly in front of his. She could smell the inhuman breath coming from his mouth. “What do you want me to do?”
    “Push!” he cried. “Just push!”
    Joan extended her left hand toward the piece of glass. She wrapped her fingers around