Were War (WereWitch Book 4)

by Renée Jaggér

  Grimly satisfied with her handiwork, the girl watched as she commanded her Weres to scout, neutralize sentries, and finally storm the great hall, killing the witches before they could drain her beloved and losing none of her warriors in the process.

  Then she picked up one of the fallen silver knives, and with it, cut the wizard’s bonds. He rose to his feet again, and she embraced him. Then they kissed with a passion that was almost as embarrassing as it was beautiful while the wolves cheered. They were victorious.

  Bailey felt herself crying with relief and joy. Then she blinked, and the spirit realm was gone. She was sitting up on the ledge with the shaman and the wizard beside her, and tears stung her cheeks even in the Other.

  “Oh, gods,” she gasped. “It’s over. We…I did it. I think.”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow, and Roland was curious too. She told them everything except the kissing part; she somehow felt she ought to leave that out.

  When she finished, Roland, of course, had to toss in his two cents. “Well, glad to know I was saved by a girl. Thanks, though. I appreciate it.”

  Ignoring him, she looked at Fenris.

  The deity, father of her kind, did not speak for a while. He only looked at her with a neutral intensity, crouched before her, and sat back on his haunches, seemingly deep in thought.

  She couldn’t take the delay anymore. After all I just went through, she thought, I damn well deserve an answer without a lot of dramatic-ass pauses.

  “What does it mean?” she asked. “Tell me.”

  Marcus took a long, slow breath. “It means that you are my apprentice.”

  The words hung in the air, and she discovered she didn’t mind the dramatic pause after all.

  “Oh.” She gulped. “Well, shit. That’s great.”

  He smiled. “Yes. Yes, it is. Well done, Bailey. You have passed the last of the tests, and now your true journey toward being the High Shaman begins.”

  There was a twitter of annoyance in her gut at that. She’d forgotten she wasn’t a full apprentice.

  “In that last vision,” Marcus continued, “not only did you use the skills you’d learned up to this point, but you also showed great mental fortitude and creative, out-of-the-box thinking. Not many would have come up with the idea to, we’ll say, rewrite the script of the vision to suit your goals. With that triumph, you have completed the spiritual development necessary to move on.”

  Roland clapped her on the shoulder. “See? I knew you could do it. And of course, saving me was the final and most important thing. I’m flattered.”

  She squinted at him. “Yeah, yeah. Keep flattering yourself, because that wasn’t my intention. I do kinda like you, though.”

  “Awww,” he shot back. “I mostly tolerate you too. Just kidding. I’m truly, sincerely, legitimately overjoyed for you.”

  He wasn’t jumping up and down, but he meant it. She could tell. There was a kind of warm, beaming energy passing between them.

  Fenris raised a hand, fingers outspread, and began counting them off as he summarized all that had occurred.

  “You’ve shown you can perform as a shaman. You didn’t compromise or allow yourself to be corrupted by the temptations of excessive bloodlust, greed, apathy, or fear. You’ve demonstrated compassion as well as ferocious courage in the face of adversity. Finally, you’ve shown me that when necessary, you can break seemingly unbreakable rules if that’s what it takes to succeed. Truly amazing, Bailey. My congratulations.”

  She blushed. “Thank you, Fenris. You’ve been a great teacher. I wouldn’t have come half as far without you. I mean, you are a god and all, but still. You know how to talk to a simple country girl in a way she can understand. I don’t think most deities could do that.”

  He let out a dry chuckle. “Thank you, too, for sticking it out. And now, I think the two of you need some time to rest and talk. This has been trying for Roland too, given how much he cares about you. I’ll take my leave. You’ll see me again when the time is right, however. Just be watchful. The next phase of the conflict can’t be far off.”

  After a short search, they’d found what might well be the coziest spot in the whole of a distinctly foreboding dimension.

  Roland snapped his fingers as he looked around. “You know what this reminds me of? That motel room we got in Portland our first night out of Greenhearth. Which was…shit, the first day we knew each other, wasn’t it? I still think about that. Going out for dinner. Walking through the park and all. Perhaps it doesn’t seem too exciting or glamorous, but it was nice.”

  Hearing him say that, something within her melted. In a good way.

  “It sure was a day that changed my whole life,” she responded. “And y’know, please don’t think I blame you for all the crap that’s happened. It wasn’t your fault. I wouldn’t trade it for, well, not knowing you.”

  She tried not to blush as Roland reclined on the thick carpet of surprisingly dry moss. The magical flame they’d conjured for lighting bathed the whole of the little cave in warm light. She slipped her feet out of her boots, not caring if they smelled sweaty.

  After Bailey’s confirmation as an apprentice shaman, Marcus had stepped through a portal and closed it behind him with no further words. Shrugging, Bailey and Roland had drifted over the swampy lake and the woods surrounding it before coming to a more pleasant stretch of forest that they felt was the right place for them to unwind.

  The trees here were more gray than black, and they’d sprouted a little bit of greenery, as though spring had come to this spot while the rest of the Other languished in a dead and misty winter.

  The cave’s entrance lay between two thick trunks, mostly hidden from sight by the twisting wood as well as a hanging curtain of vines. Within, the stone was clean and covered with emerald moss.

  Roland wasn’t looking directly at her, but he seemed cognizant of everything going on around them, peaceful though it was.

  “I wouldn’t trade it either,” he stated. “You’re the most interesting person I’ve met, and I’d feel…incomplete without you around. I mean that. I’m aware that I’m a smartass a lot of the time, so do me a favor and believe me when I say I’m being sincere.”

  “Hmm.” She considered, making an exaggerated thinking face. “I guess I could do that much for you.”

  “Good.” He loosened his collar. “Since Fenris said that thing about me being your consort, I couldn’t help thinking what a good idea that was. And certain other comments I’ve made… Those were sincere in a way, too. Not that I think you’d be surprised to hear that.”

  She looked at the ground sharply. “Like, I’m happy to plunge into your tunnel anytime.’ I remember that one, boy. You’re lucky I didn’t…”

  She trailed off, suddenly tired of games.

  “Fuck it,” she said. “Come here.”

  He stood up, walked partway over to her, then grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, pulling her straight up into him. Before either knew exactly what was happening, their faces were pressed together, mouths entwined in a kiss that seemed like it had been delayed for far too long.

  They stayed like that for what would have been many minutes in Earth time. Here in the arcane realm, it could have lasted forever.

  Their lips parted, and they touched foreheads. The warmth and the welcome connection like bright electricity that had always existed between them were stronger than ever.

  “Roland,” Bailey breathed. “I think…now…”

  He kissed her again, and his hands closed on her breasts. “Yes.”

  She almost panicked. “I’ve never, uh, done this. I’m not sure how I’ll…you know…”

  “Don’t worry,” he reassured her and lowered her to the bed of moss. “I’ll show you. Otherwise, just do what comes naturally. It’s what you want, and it’s definitely what I want.”

  Too many emotions hit her at once, but all of them were good, and she almost cried. They pressed together again. “Okay,” she whispered.

  Chap
ter Fifteen

  Fenris still hadn’t returned. Bailey had mentioned to him earlier that they’d figured out how to open portals themselves, so there was no reason to expect he’d get mad at them for heading back home of their own volition.

  They stepped through the glowing purple doorway and found themselves on the wooded slopes just beyond the Nordins’ backyard. It was earlier in the day than they’d expected; about 8:15 a.m. It would be a short walk home. Jacob at least ought to be up, and possibly the other two as well.

  Bailey almost wished they’d opened a portal farther out in the mountains. The two of them had a lot to talk about, and it was better said in private.

  She cleared her throat as they started down the hill. “So,” she began, “um, well, I’m happy. That sounds lame, but I dunno what else to say. I’m not the poetic type. Happy about what happened, I mean. Happy with us.”

  Roland just smiled. He put an arm around her shoulder and leaned over to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Good. And ditto. I’m tempted to say something douchey like ‘It was well past time,’ but I won’t.”

  She gently thumped his chest with her fist. “Gosh, I appreciate that. Such a gentleman. Seriously, though…”

  His arm around her felt good, somehow protective, emphasizing the connection between them. In a way, it was as though a weight had been lifted. She no longer struggled with the uncertainty of their status. It was definite at last. It was real.

  In a soft voice, she said, “I gotta admit, it was probably overdue. And now, well, at least we know what’s up. We’re together. ‘An item’ or whatever cheesy way people have of putting it.”

  “That would be correct. Oh,” he remarked, an almost sly look on his handsome face, “I’d thought about it before. Long before. And more times than I can remember. But if you’ve learned anything about men, I’m sure that doesn’t shock you.”

  “I have,” she riposted, “and it doesn’t. Buncha animals, even though I’m the one who turns into a goddamn wolf and you don’t.”

  He nodded, and his smirk cracked into open laughter. “Quite the irony. Oh, you did fine, by the way. Nothing to be ashamed of in that department.”

  She stopped and put her hands on her hips, looking squarely at him. “Just fine, huh?”

  He pouted innocently. “Well, maybe more like ‘good.’ I mean, there’s always room for improvement, but don’t worry, you’re off to a great start. You just need more practice. The more and sooner, the better.”

  She blushed. “Let’s see how things are looking in town. Got to make sure the witches haven’t blown half the place up. If not, then yeah. I’d definitely be open to more practice.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” One of his hands descended behind her and squeezed her butt.

  She jumped, a shiver going through her, and blushed harder. “Hey, now. Watch yourself, boy. We’re almost in my backyard where my brothers might see. Have some decency, you filthy heathen.”

  He retracted his hand but quipped, “I have plenty of decency.”

  They came to the Nordin property and were only seven steps into the yard when the back door opened and Jacob leaned out, taking them in at a glance.

  “Welcome back,” he called. “You probably just want to sit down and eat as usual, but there’s some stuff going on you oughta know about.”

  Bailey tensed, and it must have shown since her brother held up a hand.

  “Nothing terrible. Not yet, anyway. In fact, it’s probably a good thing. Lots of new Weres rolling into town. People we haven’t seen or heard of, a few loners plus obscure packs from around the state, and even a few from Washington and Idaho.”

  The werewitch and the wizard exchanged surprised glances.

  “Yeah,” Bailey returned, “I’d say that’s a good thing under the present circumstances. How many? Weres, I mean, rather than packs.”

  Jacob shrugged. “I dunno. At least thirty, maybe more like fifty. You’re going into town today, right? We can figure it out then.”

  Roland raised a finger. “What’s for breakfast?”

  The eldest Nordin brother made a sour face. “Uh, coffee, I guess. We haven’t made anything. Kurt’s sleeping, and Russell joined one of the patrols. I kinda wanted to go with him, honestly, but we felt like someone ought to be here to hold the fort.”

  Roland pouted, but Bailey waved a hand in front of his face and spoke for both of them. “That’s fine. I just hope Russell knows what he’s doing.”

  It almost made her sick, imagining him being the first one to stumble onto the next wave of Venatori and incurring their wrath. Then again, even without magic, he was about as tough as werewolves came.

  Jacob held the door as they walked in. “We all know what we’re doing now,” he retorted. “Defending our damn town.”

  They relaxed for fifteen or twenty minutes and had a cup of coffee. Jacob had made it himself, so it was strong, though not on the same level as Russell’s.

  After a short period of conversation about how Sheriff Browne had deputized four or five more citizens and their father was rushing back to help with things, Bailey made her decision about what to do today.

  “So,” she began, “I think Roland and me do need a proper breakfast, and like you said, we should go into town and meet the new guys anyway. Let’s go get something to eat at the Elk and, uh, do a round of inspection of the defenses while we’re at it. Hell, I sound like a colonel or something.”

  Roland stretched his arms. “Good idea. Let’s take a shower first, though. If we do get into another battle, we’ll be sweating even more.”

  Bailey pretended to ignore the implication. “Yeah. You go ahead and take yours first, and I’ll take mine right after.”

  He gave her a disappointed look but didn’t protest. Bailey wasn’t about to do anything that would give her brothers more cause to make fun of her.

  Soon they were in her Tundra and rolling down Greenhearth’s main street toward the diner. It seemed like there were fewer people out doing normal things, which broke her heart. She hated the thought that the locals were afraid to live their lives as usual. But there were plenty of Weres, as well as sporadic humans, walking around in small groups and keeping an eye on things.

  A few of them waved as she passed. “Well,” she commented, “people are enthusiastic about the project, anyway.”

  “Indeed,” said Roland. “When the sheriff’s station gets a wall blown out and one of the local cops gets killed, that’s usually something to pay attention to.”

  When they arrived at the diner, it was bustling, though more with lycanthropes than with the human regulars. Again, Bailey worried about how the locals would react to all this.

  It’s a temporary situation, she told herself. We’re doing what we must to protect the whole community. Soon this will be over, and everything will be back to normal.

  Cheryl greeted them just inside the door. “Oh, hi, Bailey. And Roland. You having breakfast?” She seemed subtly nervous, but at least she was making an effort to be friendly.

  “Affirmative,” Bailey replied. “This dipshit complained when my brothers didn’t cook for him for once, so I had no choice.”

  “Hey!” Roland protested. “I’m not complaining about eating here, either. Might even be better. And at least they made coffee.”

  The pair drew the eyes of various newcomers as they walked past, and when Cheryl led them into the dining room, it looked as though a meeting or conference was going on. All werewolves, and only about half of them were familiar. They beckoned, and Cheryl gave them a table near the center of the crowd.

  Will Waldsbach greeted her first. “Bailey. I’m the South Cliff alpha now, with the Oberlins forced out. You’re kind of a celebrity these days. Most of these guys have heard about what’s going on. Everyone in our corner of the US knows what the Venatori have been doing and that you’ve been kicking ass and taking names.”

  She and Roland were suddenly surrounded, mostly by young men, leading representatives of the new pac
ks Jacob had mentioned and even a couple of packless outcasts, regional drifters who’d barely acknowledged their Were heritage until now. There was an intensity in their eyes, but not the threatening kind.

  They’d all come to declare their support for the new shaman.

  A towering, gaunt-faced man from somewhere down in the southeast corner of Oregon put a fist over his heart. “You have our allegiance,” he stated. “Fenris put his word behind you, and you’ve done a lot to protect our kind. If those witches think they can wipe us out, they’re going to have to try harder.”

  Another warrior, short and pudgy but still formidable with his thick muscles and cantankerous face, concurred. “After you rescued the girls in Seattle, we made a note of your name. We helped point the cops toward the assholes responsible for that. With this going on, we’re glad we remembered you. My boys and I will be staying around town as long as you need us.”

  Others stepped in and made similar statements. It was overwhelming, and Bailey flushed with pride and gratitude. She tried not to let it go to her head. They were here because a terrible thing was happening, and it was her duty to lead them wisely and ensure the overall well-being of wolfdom. She couldn’t betray their trust by acting like a rock star or abusing her power.

  “Thank you,” she said at the end. “I…damn. Honestly, I can’t tell you all how much it means to me to hear this. I used to feel like I didn’t fit in with Weres in general, and now, well, that’s definitely not the case.”

  She smiled and looked down at the table to gather her thoughts before addressing them again. “But this isn’t about me at the end of the day. It’s about you, and about all of us. And the people of Greenhearth—the regular humans who’ve been our friends since forever, and who I’d protect the same as my own family.”

  Some of those humans, she knew, were dining in the corners and overheard her. If they spread the word, it would help calm some of the tensions that had arisen lately.