Aching Silver (House of Wolves Book 1)

by Amber Naralim

  Johnny hesitated and the look on Connor’s face crumbled even further.

  “She broke free,” Johnny affirmed.

  “John, you want this to work you have to choose your tactics.”

  “It took her time. By then it was too late for the family. But she broke free. I swear it.”

  “Blurry lines won’t save her and they sure as hell won’t save you!”

  Connor turned away from him. He pressed his hands to his hips and chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. He shook his head. A dozen ideas popped into his head. Not a one of them would work. Not without a whole lot of bodies, no matter how he reshuffled his deck.

  Fuck!

  Conner was seriously sizing his stakes in this one. He considered cutting his losses, no point working for something that nets you nothing. Besides, boredom was settling in already.

  “We have to tell her,” Connor said simply.

  He figured it was only fair. Conner always gave them a choice. John could do the right thing. He could take her pretty little hand and spout the truth. The consequences that dotted that path were swift and sure. He would lose her. Conner was betting he would fight tooth and nail to keep that from happening. It amazed him the lies people told themselves. The willingness to shut their eyes. It just reaffirmed Conner’s view that the world is full of hopeful suckers.

  “We can’t,” Johnny hissed.

  Connor turned back to his brother with a predatory hunch to his shoulders. “We have to. We have to teach her!” His sarcasm bled through before the end.

  “In a month?” Johnny asked incredulously. “I had ten years and it didn’t help.”

  Connor softened pity climbing to the peak of his emotions. Believe it or not, Conner loved his brothers. “You were a child, John.”

  “I still failed. And look at what it’s done to you guys.” Johnny hung his head.

  “Abel made a choice.”

  Conner didn’t agree with it. He would have found another way. At least that’s what he told himself. He was bitter Abel sacrificed their family for their parent’s mistake. Annoyed that Abel couldn’t have hidden it. His foolish nobility cost them everything.

  Given the same choice, Conner would have saved John if he could. He just would have done it differently. Smarter.

  “He should have killed me,” Johnny admitted with a hitch in his voice and trembling lips.

  “No.” Connor put his hand on his older brother’s shoulder. “It was wrong then and Abel knew it. It was wrong now, and you knew it. We’ll figure something out. We’ll save you, John.”

  19

  Chapter

  Izobel stumbled through the trees. Exhausted. Hungry. Numbness was a tide that rolled through her, crushing her beneath its weight. She crested the top of a hill and stopped. Nothing but trees for as far as the eye could see. She spun and spun searching for any break in the pattern. The webs were thickest here. A dozen of them anchored to every rock.

  The bracelet hung in the air. It glimmered and glinted. The magic was weak. But it still functioned. She didn’t understand. Zoe should be here!

  Izobel paced the hilltop. Nothing. Frustration and despair bursting Izobel threw her head back with an inarticulate scream. She dropped to her knees tears cascading down her face. Clawing at the gravel, she sobbed. She’d always had a hard time separating pain and anger. Closing the rocks in her fist, she hurled them.

  Pinging ricochets rocketed back toward her. She threw her hands up to shield herself from them. Curiosity and wonder hacked their way through her expression. Izobel climbed to her feet and wandered toward where they hit. She reached her palm out slowly. Her fingertips brushed… something. Color and light flared, rippling.

  It was warm, almost solid, like touching your hand to the surface of a glossy lake. Hungry and begging, all she had to do was push through to another world. Izobel glanced over her shoulder. The wood was just as empty as when she entered it. What was this place?

  She leaned against the barrier pressing her hands in around her eyes trying to peer through it. Izobel could almost make out something. What it was she had no clue, but there were plains, shadows. She considered just pushing through. There was no telling what was on the other side. Someone took her sister. Someone who had powerful magic.

  Izobel stepped back from the whirling, rippling barrier and took stock of her tools. Rocks for stamina, fire, and smoke, salt. These were weapons she could work with. She’d always been better at offense. Izobel was sure to take a strand of webbing to mix into her incantations to give them a little extra kick. Much as she wanted to rush, Deklan’s voice droned on about attentive preparation and sloppy spells. He always said careful magic could mean the difference between life and death. She heeded him this time.

  Speaking the words, magic thrummed through the air. It vibrated a little slower than she was used to. Izobel chalked it up to the earth magic. She couldn’t deny its power. It whispered in the back of her mind, sure and primordial. Gold spilled into the pools of her eyes burning away that watery blue. Her every movement had tracers of prismatic lines. The resonance was astonishing.

  Lastly, she poured salt over a stone, flat and smooth. The grains cascaded over its surface carrying light with them. The glow seeped into the object infusing it and shifting its purpose. Izobel exhaled and slipped it into her pocket. Ready as she was going to get she slipped her bag over one shoulder, strap cutting across her chest diagonally.

  Izobel stepped through the barrier between worlds shoulders razor straight. The other side was a room. It was empty, four walls and worn wood floors. Mirrors. All sizes and shapes, they hung on the walls with barely an inch between them, hundreds of them.

  Curious, she moved toward the door. It opened easily. Izobel scanned the hallway. Seeing nothing she closed the door behind her with a barely audible click. The earthy, warm scent of leather swirled around her. Izobel wasn’t sure what she’d expected but gothic revival fell pretty low on her list. The furnishings were rich but threadbare. Tufted velvet, creased leather, and Louise XVI curves. The herringbone wood floor creaked beneath her feet.

  A boy walked around the corner. Maybe seventeen, he looked the same age as Zoe. He stopped cold. Shock and recognition flickered across his lovely face.

  “How did you?” he began.

  “Where is she?” Izobel demanded moving toward him threateningly.

  He dropped into a fighting stance and that was all the provocation Izobel needed. She swung her arm and a shockwave of force sent the kid slamming into the wall so hard the drywall buckled. He dropped to the floor with a meaty thud, blood pouring from a gash on his forehead. Izobel snatched a lamp from the console table and smashed it over his head. What little consciousness he’d been able to hang onto fled him and he slumped.

  With a glance in the direction he came and another over her shoulder, she crouched down next to him. His pulse was thready. Magic crackled and chased over his form. Jeans and a button down-shirt with a tailored vest layered over it, hiking boots, his pockets were empty. He didn’t even have a phone.

  She thought about hitting him again. Humans are fragile creatures; it didn’t take much to end one. But Izobel wasn’t sure she could do it. If Zoe was dead she wouldn’t hesitate. This was about rescue, not murder. She stepped over him moving deeper into the house.

  A dining room yielded a rectangular farm table covered in papers. Photographs pinned to the floral wallpaper. Izobel plucked one. It was Zoe. The photo was taken from a distance and without her knowledge. There were at least a dozen more. A few of other people too, but she didn’t recognize any of them. A laptop sat open on the table. She pressed the power button and while it booted up shuffled through the papers.

  Land deeds, police reports, she couldn’t make sense of their randomness or their purpose. The laptop wanted a password. Izobel left it humming on the table heading off to search other rooms. The kitchen was both large and empty. Someone was sitting on the couch. She spotted him before he did her. He was a big gu
y.

  Izobel’s fingers swished at her side wreathed in a blue glow. She rushed through the archway and lashed out. A wave of force sent the couch flying backward. Abel shook his head, rolling his jaw unsure of what the hell just happened. He rolled to his feet closing the distance.

  A right cross missed her by inches. She was fast he could give her that. Izobel kicked at his shin and came forward with a vicious head-butt. He staggered back a step a little surprised. He raised her a hook to the solar plexus that dropped her to her hands and knees begging for breath.

  “Now that we’re better acquainted, how’s about you tell me what the hell you’re doing in my house?”

  “Where is she?” Izobel growled.

  He had just enough time to cock an eyebrow before she came up on her knees both hands in upturned human claws. Blue lightning crackled and sparked between her fingers. She gathered the power into a seething mass and hurled it at him. He curled in on himself crying out as the electricity scorched his insides.

  Izobel climbed to her feet, two hits to his midsection followed by a kick to the gut. He took them in stride backhanding her. Her head snapped to one side, blood staining her teeth.

  “A Sparrow, huh?”

  Izobel had no idea what he was talking about. He swung and she grabbed his wrist with both hands. Overextending his arm, she locked the joint. He swung with his left and she barely dodged it. Izobel grappled that arm too. They danced in a circle. She was glad for the prep magic, without it, Izobel never would have been able to hold onto him. Locked together, he slipped her grasp and grabbed a fistful of her luxuriant black hair. Frustrated she bit his forearm.

  A knee to his stomach didn’t stop him from lifting her off the ground and slamming her onto the overturned couch.

  ***

  Johnny stood up moving towards the door. Zoe grabbed his wrist.

  “Don’t go!” She cried.

  Her lips trembled and her unearthly eyes were wide. Johnny turned to her. Stepping close he touched her face.

  “I will never let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?” He asked.

  She didn’t even have to think about it. Zoe nodded her head. She knew he would keep her safe. Her fear was more about him getting hurt.

  “I trust you,” Zoe answered.

  Sounds of the fight traveled up the stairs. Johnny licked his lips. He moved toward the door. Zoe didn’t know what to do. Johnny took the steps two at a time. His beast chomped at the bit ready to be set loose. He could feel the claws biting at the ends of his fingertips, teeth pushing at his gums.

  It was just like Worthington to say one thing and do another. The consequences of his world crumbling swam through his head. To his utter surprise, he did not find a war party at the bottom of the steps though.

  It was a girl. Black hair and blue eyes with a burst of lavender at their center, she looked so familiar. He joined the fray anyway.

  Izobel wrapped one leg around Abel’s upper body, her arm hooked around his neck. Two elbows to the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, she slammed the palm of her other hand against his chest. Power flowed from the connection. Biting and stinging at first, it grew. Fiery and scorching it flowed through his veins like lava, igniting his blood. Abel screamed. Smoke poured from his mouth, his nose.

  He set her free, lurching backward. Faltering steps gave her some distance. Abel clutched at his throat howling in agony. Johnny came at her. Izobel spun around with an elbow across his nose. He shook his head and hurled two hooks to her midsection. Her face reacted to the blows, but she didn’t let up.

  She blocked a punch with her forearm. Izobel thrust her palm forward shoving magic into him. The force of it drove Johnny to his knees. He cried out. Blue lightning chased over him. She swung her arm and the force of a blue wave sent him crashing into the wall. His head snapped back and Johnny slumped to the ground.

  Abel swallowed past the fading pain and lowered his shoulder to rush her. Izobel turned with a complicated movement of her fingers. Abel made it all of three steps when glowing force grabbed him by the throat. Izobel lifted her hand and Abel rose off the ground. Feet kicking, he gasped and sputtered, the magic choked him.

  Johnny made it to his feet. Izobel half-turned holding up her other hand and a glowing shield kindled between them that he punched and kicked at but could not move past.

  “I’m going to ask one more time. Where is she?”

  ***

  Zoe paced in front of the gaping doorway. Johnny told her to stay here. But the sound of his screaming had her looking for anything she could use as a weapon. She grabbed a tarnished candlestick moving toward the stairs. She raised it ready to attack. Zoe moved down the stairs carefully. She stopped at the landing her mouth falling open at the scene she found.

  “Izzy!”

  The cruel look on Izobel’s face crumbled into utter relief. Zoe was okay. Her shoulders slumped.

  “You’re okay?”

  “Izzy stop. They’re my friends!” Zoe said jogging into the room.

  She dropped the candlestick to the floor. Izobel cast a glance at Abel hanging from her grasp, then at Johnny. She lowered her arm slowly loosening her grip. Abel fell to the floor gasping for air. He came up on one arm. Izobel dropped the shield. Johnny, confused, but glad the fight was over rushed over to his brother.

  Zoe threw her arms around Izobel and she melted into the embrace, brushing her hands over her hair, and cupping Zoe’s face in her hands. Izobel’s knees were weak.

  “I’ve been so worried about you. You’re safe. Thank the Gods you’re safe.”

  Izobel rested her cheek against her little sister’s head. Tears soaked into Zoe’s hair. Abel and Johnny shared a glance.

  20

  Chapter

  “What the hell is going on?” Abel croaked, hand around his throat, he massaged it gently.

  “You kidnapped my sister!” Izobel growled accusingly. She held Zoe a little tighter, her stance protective.

  “They didn’t kidnap me,” Zoe said. “Well, kinda but… it isn’t like that, Izzy.” Zoe looked at Abel. “See, you should have let me call her.”

  “You never said she was a Sparrow,” Abel argued.

  Both Zoe and Izobel in near unison asked, “What’s a Sparrow?”

  “A sorcerer.”

  Zoe looked into Izobel’s face like she’d never met her before. It just clicked with that label. Magic went from myth and fairytale to real like the snap of fingers. She saw it. Flashing lights, sparkles and all. Her sister could wield magic! Izobel shrugged awkwardly in response to the wide eyes and questioning eyebrows Zoe had.

  “Where’s Connor?” Johnny asked.

  Izobel looked sheepish for just a moment before her shoulders settled and a haughty look melted over her embarrassment. “Unconscious.”

  Johnny jogged out of the room looking for him. Izobel went back to doting on Zoe. Her fingertips drifted over the black and blue peeking out from underneath Zoe’s black bangs.

  “What did they do to you?” Izobel asked. Her voice vibrating with barely caged anger. She glared at Abel.

  Zoe grabbed her hand. “It’s okay, Izzy. They didn’t hurt me. Johnny is protecting me.”

  “From what?”

  “You should tell her, Johnny,” Connor needled. A wicked smirk played across his face. Johnny always needed a little prodding. He could be stubborn that way.

  Johnny swallowed. Zoe was a jumble of colors and lines. She held his hand. Smiled at him. The argument that he liked her was completely blown out of the water by the conclusion that he loved her. Johnny couldn’t lose her now. He was paralyzed by the prospect.

  Everyone in the room turned to him. Johnny helped Conner limp through the archway into the living room. Izobel gave him soft eyes. She wouldn’t apologize. They took her sister. They should all be glad they were still alive.

  “Tell me what?” Zoe asked.

  Abel and Johnny flipped the couch back over. The rest of the mess would just have to wait. Abe
l flopped back down in the spot he began this whole debacle from and Johnny helped Connor over to sit next to him, buying time to get his story straight. Connor had a bad limp.

  “Man, Izzy, why did you go all Scarlet Witch on him like that?” Zoe hissed. She couldn’t keep the accusation out of her voice.

  Izobel’s jaw dropped open. It snapped shut again. She swallowed the need to scream at her baby sister.

  “A house full of blood and guts and my sister missing. They took you, Zoe! I was scared to death about what they’d done to you. I chased you to another state, into the middle of a magical vortex. I was trying to save you!”

  Not only did that explanation put Zoe in her place, it erased Abel’s annoyance at the whole situation. He didn’t blame the Sparrow one bit for coming to rescue her sister. He would have done the same. Only if it had been him, Connor would be dead. He understood and he respected Izobel for it.

  “What do you mean a magical vortex? What are you talking about?”

  Johnny’s head dropped to one side, his face scrunched up. “This farm is… well, it’s a…”

  “It’s a prison,” Conner shot at him from the cover of distance.

  Johnny looked at Conner and then at the floor shame radiating from him.

  “A prison?” Zoe asked confusion and compassion fought a bloody battle in her expression.

  “We’re Kin.” Abel made a face. “Werewolves.”

  “I- I don’t understand?” Zoe said backing up.

  Magic. Werewolves. Prisons! Zoe didn’t know what to think. The seriousness of their stature told her they were telling the truth but she couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. Even Izzy. A sorcerer? She saw the magic. Felt it thrumming on the air. But she didn’t want to believe it. It was all too much.

  “Why did you take my sister?” Izobel asked.

  “Because she was bitten.”

  Zoe’s eyes went over-wide. “I was who?”

  “True Lycanthropy spreads through bloodlines. Ours runs in the family. But the Lunatic curse is carried by venom. A bite from a werewolf can sometimes infect humans.” Abel sighed. “You’ve seen movies, read books, the creatures who lose control on the full moon, who slaughter innocents through pure rage. That’s where those legends come from. The Metris, infected wolves, have no control. They are killing machines.”