Free Wolfsbane by William W. Johnstone Page A

moquer de, Edan?”
    â€œNo, Annie,” he quickly denied that. “I’m not making fun of you. I just don’t understand how you know these things, that’s all.”
    â€œWhen you was a little-bitty boy, Edan, you and Stella used to play together. I used to try to teach you tings ’bout the roo-garou and the cauchemar and the letiche.” She leaned forward and tapped him lightly in the center of his forehead. “You ain’t got de power lak me, Edan. I give de power to Marie, she give it to Stella. You ’member, Edan, years back, when you and me and Stella see de fee folay?”
    The feu folie, the fire balls?” The sheriff nodded. ”Oui, Annie, I remember. You made them come. But I didn’t understand how you did it then, and I still don’t. ”
    â€œSo you ’mit dere tings you don understand, but you believe dem?”
    â€œOui. ”
    â€œDen how come it is you don believe me when I tale you someting bad gonna happen in Ducros?”
    â€œMaybe I do believe you, Annie—but I just don’t want to admit it.”
    She smiled. “All de fine education in de world don’t take away from your mind what ever good Cajun boy know in his heart be true. You believe, Edan. I keep you ’live comin’ months.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œYou wait where you sit. I be rat back.”
    She returned presently with an amulet and a small leather pouch. She put the amulet around Edan’s neck and handed him the pouch.
    â€œWhat’s this?” Edan questioned.
    â€œKeep you safe. All kind of dried animals in dat pouch. De amulet be for extra protection.”
    â€œWhat am I suppose to do with it?”
    â€œKeep it wit you all de time. Gonna be bad in Ducros—soon. Spirits out—bad spirits.”
    Sheriff Edan Vallot didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He felt the amulet around his neck and hefted the leather pouch.
    â€œYou make me a promise, Edan?”
    â€œOui, ” he said quietly.
    â€œIt’s a small bag. Don take up much room in your pocket. So you promise me you wear the amulet and keep de bag in your pocket all de time.”
    â€œI promise, Annie,” he surrendered to the old ways.
    Edan thanked the old woman and climbed down the ladder to his boat. He left Annie Metrejean sitting on the porch of her bayou home, singing a French song. It was only when he was halfway back to Joyeux that Sheriff Vallot realized she had not told him a damn thing about Claude Bauterre’s death.
    But he did have an amulet around his neck and a leather bag full of . . . God alone knew what. And he had promised to carry the bag around with him wherever he went.
    â€œShit!” Edan said.
    He thought about tossing the bag and the amulet into the bayou. But, better not. He put the bag in his pocket. He’d carry it around.
    Of course, he thought, superstition has nothing to do with it.
    â€œOf course not,” he said aloud, smiling.
    Â 
    By the end of a month, Pat, having no scales, guessed he had lost about twenty pounds. His arms, legs, and shoulders were firming up, but he was still a long way from being the man he once was. And he knew he would never again be that man. His belly was shrinking in size almost daily, due to the good diet and hard exercise.
    And he still could not think of a reason why he was putting himself through all this agony.
    Pride, he told himself. But he wasn’t certain that was it, at all.
    He had put himself on a meat, fish, and vegetable diet, with powdered milk he kept cool in the well-wall compartment. The damn stuff almost made him gag, but he forced it down, several glasses a day. When his checks from the government came, he bought several kinds of vitamins, to supplement his diet.
    He had not had a drink of booze—of any kind—in over a month. And had tossed his cigarettes away, even though he had never been a heavy smoker.
    At night, after his