The birth of a first born Harpe son in 2006 awakens the DarkWolf, who sends enough enegery back to our world to allow the spirits of Micajah and Wiley to return. Seeking the Harpe Amulet and the child, the Harpe's rampage along the same paths they did 200 years ago.
In 1968, two hundred years to the day from the day Micajah Harpe was born, another firstborn Harpe child drew his first breath. He was Odell’s child, and they named him James William Harp, and called him Billy. When he was born the eyes of the Wolf snapped wide open. The blue flame danced in all its wild fury, and the hunger inside his belly grew to gigantic proportions. The Wolf had no doubts. This child was the one. He was the Harpe, the chosen, and he had finally returned. Soon would the boy know the hunger, even as the Wolf had known it for the past two hundred years.
As Billy grew, now and then the Wolf would open his eyes and watch for a moment or so. He watched for any sign of weakness in the boy, ready to breach the line between the two worlds and send part of his spirit to reinforce the boy’s resolve, but not once did he find a single chink in the boy’s armor. Occasionally, when Billy would injure himself, the Wolf would send the energy through the gate to aid in his healing, and more than once he sent tiny fingerlings of wildness slithering through the darkness between the two worlds and into the boys mind.
The boy grew strong and brave, ready to face anything life threw at him, never once suspecting the presence of the Wolf, never knowing of the coming battle.
Billy was eleven the first time the Wolf touched him with the rage.
Billy had a brand new pocketknife his father had given him just a few weeks before. He had sharpened in until he could shave the soft hair on his arm with it, and had practiced getting it out of his pocket and opening it as quickly as possible. He was very fast with it, never knowing that it was a talent that he was born to.
It was Halloween, and Billy had collected a large bag of candy on his trick or treat rounds of the neighborhood. He had told the last of his friends’ goodnight and continued home alone, never once thinking to be afraid of the bigger kids that lived nearby.
As Billy passed the last street light before he reached his own home, he heard a voice softly call to him from the darkness.
“Hey, Harp,” the voice said, “come over here for a minute.”
Billy walked over to the tall hedge where the words had come from.
“Who’s there?” he asked.
“It’s just me and Tommy,” he heard a rough voice say, and recognized it as belonging to Buck Hendricks, one of the biggest bullies in school.
“What do you want, Buck,” Billy asked, his own voice sounding loud in his ears. He realized the two of them were probably going to try and beat him up, and though he wasn’t afraid of them, he’d really just as soon pass on fighting them both.
The two of them stepped out from behind the hedge and stood in the pale yellow glow of the small streetlight, staring at Billy with open hostility.
“Don’t worry, Harp, we just want to talk to you. And maybe eat a little bit of that trick or treat candy you got in the bag. We ain’t going to hurt you.”
Stepping back a step, Billy slowly eased his hand into his pocket where the knife rested.
THE KNIFE WAS WARM FROM BEING IN BILLY’S POCKET, AND AT THE SAME TIME THAT BILLY’S HAND TOUCHED THE STEEL OF THE BLADE, DEEP IN THE CAVE ON THE SPRIT WORLD, THE EYES OF THE WOLF SNAPPED OPEN! THE WOLF PEERED THROUGH BILLY’S EYES AND SAW THE TWO BIGGER BOYS, AND WITHOUT A THOUGHT HE SENT A SMALL HUNGER PANG THROUGH THE GATE AND INTO BILLY’S MIND!
“Yeah, I know,” Billy breathed, and his voice was quieter now. For some reason he had suddenly become very calm.
The steel of the knife felt familiar as Billy drew it from his pocket and opened it. As the blade unfolded, something strange happened. A feeling came over Billy that he had never felt before, and a tiny blue flame began to flicker deep in his eyes.
“No, I know you’re not going to hurt me,” Billy said, whipping the knife open and holding it in front of him. The blade caught a tiny ray of light from the overhead street light and gleamed yellow in the darkness. A wolf’s tooth made of old ivory may have gleamed in much the same way.
“I’ve got a sharp knife and a short temper, boys, and I’ll cut you if I have to. And I’ll only tell you the one time.”
Excerpt
"I've got a sharp knife, and a short temper, boys, and I'll only tell you the one time."
A new client talks attorney Stan Turner into acting as his executor and trustee of his estate if he should die. Stan reluctantly accepts, but when the client is murdered before the ink is dry on the paperwork, Stan realizes he has been set up and mus
