Aching Silver (House of Wolves Book 1)

by Amber Naralim

  The moon was a hazy glow behind him. The trees danced and swayed with the wind. His growl rumbled like thunder. The horse reared high. Izobel dodged left. The horse shot the other way. With it gone, the Kin set its malicious sights on them.

  He came forward. Hunkering down he touched his paws to the paving stones. His muscular shoulders roiled. The tick of his claws echoed in Zoe’s ears, powerful as earthquakes.

  That monster was the last thing her little brother saw!

  That thought shoved a spike through her brain. She couldn’t think past it. The existential dread hammered her to the spot. Even more, earth-shattering than her fear.

  Zoe ran from every memory of her family, to the point of skirting Izzy. She just couldn’t face it. Couldn’t deal. And this despair was why.

  Izobel stood in front of Zoe and held her hands out wide palms up. Eyes closed, she called the four winds. Her fingers moved in intricate choreography. She couldn’t build the prime fast enough. The Lupine coiled ready for its strike. The air in front of her shimmered like gold glitter. The tension of the moment snapped like a violin string and he rushed them.

  Her hands slammed against his chest and lightening crawled over his fur. It singed and smoked but still, he came. A brutal blitz attack, he was all snapping jaws and slicing claws. His strength bowled right through her. He knocked her to the ground and drove right into Zoe. They crushed the corner of that stall.

  Her head cracked against the beam. The momentum swung the amulet. Its metaphysical weight alone snapped the straining chain. The moonstones and silver went flying into the light dusting of hay.

  The explosion of a gunshot tore into the Lupine’s back. He turned with a snarl. Abel pulled the trigger again moving toward them with a controlled glide. He stopped at Izobel offering her a hand up. Izobel took it gratefully. She needed a moment to get her bearings back.

  Abel succeeded in getting the monster’s attention. Now, what did they do? He stalked toward them ready to leap when Zoe jumped on him from behind. Black claws ripped across the Lupine’s muzzle. Her eyes shined amber.

  Abel pushed back on Izobel trying to get her to run the other way. One Metri could kill them. Two was an absolute surety. Izobel stood her ground refusing to leave her little sister.

  “Zoe,” she cried.

  “Is gone,” Abel told her point-blank. “There is no getting that genie back into the bottle. We have to get out of here.”

  Zoe’s ears were tapered black fur. Her eyebrows drew a deep v shape between her eyes. Fangs, sharp and piercing dotted her lips. She was already changing. Izobel let Abel drag her away. The sounds of their fight bounced off the barn. Abel guided them back toward the house. They needed somewhere they could hide from Zoe.

  77

  Chapter

  Deklan’s protection magic enveloped Nora. He longed for his tools. Magic could be done with bare hands but it made it a whole lot harder. Recipes and charms were how witches learned. Not many could walk away from the formulas. The familiarity. Deklan didn’t like thinking of himself as one of them. And yet, the more he wished for them the more he accepted.

  His eyes darted over the path, over her. He searched for something he could use to magnify the resonance of his magic. Deklan concentrated on Nora. The more Worthington ranted, raved and blamed his granddaughter the surer his choices.

  Deklan had a desperate need to protect this woman. She had a personality that shined. So effortlessly herself. An amalgamation of glittery objects, from her chunky jewelry to the bright colors she wore. She desperately needed to be seen. And Deklan couldn’t tear his eyes away. He wanted to soothe and comfort her. But mostly he wanted her to live so he had the chance to get to hold her.

  These woods were endless. At the same time, he couldn’t get far enough away from the attack.

  “That way,” Nora said pointing to the distance.

  All Deklan saw was more trees.

  They rushed across the enormous yard with its tastefully landscaped bushes and ducked into the side door. The kitchen was dark. They moved past granite countertops and glass cupboard doors shooting across the hall.

  Nora went to pull away, head craned over her shoulder to give directions to take her grandfather to the garage while she grabbed the keys. Deklan slowed down. She came to a stop to see Isaak standing near the window.

  “Stop this Isaak,” she begged. “I won’t let you have him.”

  Her manner was pleading and guarded all at once. She held out her arm like it would do something to protect the old man in her care.

  He seemed older than she remembered. Tall and a little too lean, his expensive clothes hung from straight lines. His short hair slicked back with a shine. He wasn’t anything like she remembered. The doting brother who would do anything at all for his family was gone replaced by this knife-sharp, power-hungry husk. He had the same point of no return eyes though.

  “I missed you,” she said.

  Nora didn’t dare move any further. She braced for impact. It didn’t show in her voice. In contrast, Nora was every bit the sweet, too smart for her own good little girl he remembered. His second thoughts and regrets weren’t visible. He simply held her gaze.

  “I’ve given you every opportunity to join me. But you keep running back to Abel hoping he’ll be your savior. There’s nowhere left to run.”

  “Isaak is that you, my boy?” Worthington asked coming forward a few steps.

  Nora held him back. Deklan chanted beneath his breath weaving charms together.

  “Why would you ever come back here?” Worthington asked.

  The man wore vulnerability and malice like varying colors. He glared Isaak down shoulders razor straight. It was muscle memory at this point. It stung like a bitch. You could see it in Isaak’s face. His resigned inevitability crumbled away to reveal pain he lashed out at.

  “You’re nothing but a frail old man. I should have done this sooner. It was cruel of me to leave you like this for so long.”

  Isaak moved toward her with grim determination. He backhanded Nora as she moved to block him and went straight for the old man. Deklan moved, ready to run to Nora’s side. Two semiautomatic rifles trained on him. It stopped him cold. His expression wasn’t a happy one. There was nothing he could do. Backed against a wall, bullets locked him down.

  Isaak pulled a blade from the small of his back. Six inches of crescent-shaped silver. It looked old. Well used. Ritualistic runes stamped and molded into the side of the blade. His grandfather’s death was not something he relished. He was saving the old man. Honor thy father was a basic tenant in the culture of the lycanthropes. And he more than anyone should tow that line. Being king meant something. Their clan forgot that.

  Isaak would remind them.

  He tightened his hand around the leather-wrapped pommel. This metal had seen a thousand sacrifices. This one would bathe in King’s blood. A just and fitting end for someone who let his fiefdom fall to ruin.

  Isaak thrust forward burying the knife hilt deep. Blood spilled out of the corner of Worthington’s thin lips. He backed up, staggering, hands pressed to his belly. He groaned sliding down the vanilla paint leaving a splotch of red behind him.

  Worthington stared, his face a mask of surprise and wonder at the impudence of what his grandson did to him. His heart thumped a heavy beat. It fought for every one. His lips were a stark pale against the blood that stained them.

  Nora landed on him a moment past too late. Isaak spun the knife and sliced it across her chest as well as pushed her back. All Nora managed was to strip the knife out of his hand. It clanged and clanked on the hardwood. She crumbled to the floor. Isaak moved forward a step and a fist dragged the shorter guard into a fight. A gunshot made short work of the Folk. Abel aimed his Dessert eagle at Isaak’s head. Deklan took his chance to fall to his knees next to Nora. The guard’s gun swiveled that way.

  “Ah-ah!” Abel warned.

  The guard shrank back a little. Everyone froze in those positions. A lot of rapid ey
e movement marked the difference.

  “It’s been a while,” Isaak said a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth.

  “Not long enough!” Abel snapped.

  A warm green frost spread across his iris as the prime answered Deklan’s call. He put everything he had into directing fate. Every cut. Every bruise, Essence magic wipes it away. But it has to go somewhere. And Deklan pushed it at Worthington. Having to choose, it was poetic that the old man would give his life to save the girl he tormented.

  With each passing second, the wound knit together like a flower blooming backward. Nora’s mouth tightened with her grimace. She gazed up at Deklan in wonder and curiosity. She’d seen the Kin heal like this her whole life but she could never pin down what it felt like.

  It tingled like a million shards of icy needles blunted by their own number. Cold radiated in waves through her body. Cool and soothing it spread. It started sharp and melted in its cycle of trajectory. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight.

  Deklan looked over his shoulder at Worthington. His shoulders slumped. The rasp of his labored breathing stretched over-long. Deklan funneled it down into Nora.

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  Chapter

  Conner dodged bullets and trees with the same concentration. The dirt bike’s whine echoed through the trees shattering the silence with murderous intent. Kye was a hundred feet ahead of him weaving through the trees. They were almost halfway back to the Merrick house. Conner figured that exit would be covered the least. They had to watch out for the Witch and Abel, but in truth, Conner would rather lean that way.

  Guilt was sort of new to Conner. He understood the concept. He’d just never dipped his toe in very deep. So he was presented with conundrum after quandary after feeling like a total piece of shit. He had to say, he wasn’t fond of it either.

  He was lagging, and if he had to tell the truth, he was doing it on purpose. He lost sight of Kye. Bright colors and movement flashing drew his eyes to the left. A beast form attacked a human. Conner slowed his bike down when he realized the black hair belonged to Johnny!

  Johnny slammed into the trunk of the tree so hard the edges crumbled. He curled in on himself protecting from the next hit. Three lines bled across his belly. The Metri flailed and grabbed with deadly precision.

  He dropped to his knees and dodged beneath a swinging claw trying to dart between the roots and young saplings. He held his right arm close to his broken ribs. A cut on his forehead dripped for a second or two before it mended whole.

  A round of bullets ricocheted off the copse of trees. The Folk kept his distance from the Metri. He didn’t want to get its attention. They were volatile, to say the least. He took his time reloading. He fished a full magazine from his jacket pocket.

  Kye got further away with every passing second. Conner watched him disappear and made his decision. He turned the bike and revved the engine taking off in the opposite direction. Conner pulled a gun from his shoulder holster, flicked the safety off and sent three shots in quick succession barreling at the Folk who had Johnny pinned. He reacted to two hits. The third sailed wide.

  The Folk ducked sprinting for cover. One shoulder dropped low. His head swung around trying to spot where they came from.

  Conner raised the gun an inch, his hold strong. He aimed. Another bullet dropped the Folk to the ground dead. The rest of the magazine kept the Metri distracted to cover Johnny.

  Johnny sucked in a breath and took in his surroundings. He could escape but the Metri would be on him in seconds. Better to make a stand here. There was only one way to fight a Metri. Johnny pulled the necklaces from around his neck and wrapped them around his wrist instead.

  He hoped the silver would help whatever this charm Izobel fashioned out of moonlight and death do what it was supposed to do. He ripped at the shirt he wore and stood up sucking in a breath that swelled his bare chest and prepared him for the coming pain.

  Johnny flexed his fingers and tore a clawed hand across his chest taking the flesh with him. He revealed the fur underneath. Another handful and another heralded his change. Johnny charged at the Metri on all fours. They collided with snapping jaws and flailing claws. A growl followed him like a sonic boom.

  Yelps, and ripping flesh rang loudly despite the rumble of the motorbike. Johnny’s strikes and attacks were driven beyond madness in their strength and savagery by the agony of silver branded into his flesh. It took everything he had to not lean over and gnaw his arm off. And that desperation wove its way into his bloodthirsty need for violence.

  They slashed and rent one another, blood and bone flying. An open claw ripped across Johnny’s muzzle. He caught the second at the Metris’ wrist and followed it up with a hook to his ribs. The Metri’s gave just as good as he got. Jagged lines opened across Johnny’s chest. Johnny dodged backward and used the tree at his back to launch up and at his opponent. Johnny caught him at the first rotation of his summersault; and flipped him up and over. Mud erupted with the Metri’s collision with the earth. He was up and rushing clumsily at Johnny just a few seconds later, seemingly unfazed.

  Bullets riddled his back shoving him just a little off balance. Conner broke off. They were too close, any shot he took at the Metri from here would just as likely hit John.

  Johnny used the distraction. He stepped up on the broken trunk of a sapling. His right hand wrapped around behind the Metri’s head and seized his top jaw. His other closed on the Metri’s bottom jaw claws sinking in around the bone.

  Johnny yanked them apart with every ounce of his preternatural strength. Skin tore like paper. Bones splintered and separated. Blood sprayed like a fountain from what red meat and shattered skull was left at the stump. The monstrous mass slumped to the ground in a forgotten heap. Johnny dropped the top of its head.

  Conner’s relief began to ebb marked by the animalistic look in John’s eyes. He repositioned his foot and tightened his fist on the throttle. John took a slow step forward scenting the air. Conner swallowed hard.

  “John? John, it’s me.”

  The beast stood to its full height, claws dripping blood and studded with brain-matter. Conner’s left hand hovered over the butt of his gun. The lunatic cry couldn’t be denied. It clawed and grasped at Conner. There was a reason he chose to keep his human form tonight. John wasn’t exactly known for his stellar control as it was.

  Conner lamented staying behind suddenly. He wondered if Kye even realized he wasn’t behind him yet.

  The beast closed its glowing amber eyes and began to shift. The beast dove deep down into the darkness where it lived. Human again the corner of John’s mouth twitched up. That was so much easier than he thought it would be that it left him shocked and surprised. He recovered fast.

  The wounds on his face and chest knit together with every passing second. He flashed his little brother a smile he would never forget.

  “You came back for me.”

  Conner’s mouth dropped open as he considered his answer carefully. If his brothers knew he was going to run off and side with Isaak they would never forgive him. He simply nodded forcing a smirk. He stole a glance around their surroundings. He didn’t see Kye anywhere. It stung.

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  Chapter

  “She never loved you!” Isaak spat, his eyes glassy and red. Accusatory and cold Isaak had been wanting to scream that at him for so long.

  “Don’t you dare talk about Lorelei! You son of a bitch.”

  “You didn’t see it then. Too lost in your own delusions to see that she wanted me. She was leaving you, Abel.”

  “Then why did you kill her? Huh? She was beautiful and you murdered her. Left them in a pool of blood.”

  Abel’s rage oozed through his veins like lava. Its heat sparked a conflagration that incinerated him. Fear was a cold contradiction. It brought with it its own agony and suffering. That flickering memory had Abel trapped in the past.

  “It was an accident. I went back to get her. They were right behind me. We were going to run. Start
a family. My family,” he growled.

  Everything about that day came back in a wash of color and light. And even though he knew the scene by heart Abel found himself searching for clues as to whether Isaak told the truth. He found Lorelei lying on the floor. There was so much blood. It stained her face. Her shirt soaked through with a shock of red.

  He dragged her into his arms and rocked back and forth with his sobs. It was all he could do. They were already gone. His baby girl ripped from her womb. Left near the front door like so much flotsam. Abel would never get that image out of his head.

  “You won’t take my memory too. You hear me, Isaak. Not that too.”

  Abel launched himself at Isaak. Isaak led with a hook that sailed over Abel’s head. Abel got his gun out but not pointed. Isaak slammed his wrist against the archway. A shot went off that nearly took Izobel’s head with it.

  Deklan helped Nora up off the floor. Nora saw the other guard moving. He went for Deklan. Nora was left questioning why. Deklan held his hand out in front of him palm up. His fingers moved in intricate dances. The rushing Folk slammed into a wall of writhing glamour. The collision left him staggering it rang his bell so hard.

  Isaak leapt. They fought over the gun. Isaak threw an elbow to Abel’s nose and the gun burst from both of their grips. It got kicked into the shadows. They collided into the wall knocking a table over. Framed art on the wall fell on them, shattering on the floor at their feet.

  The Folk guard got his feet under him after a hard-fought battle. It just wasn’t fast enough. Both of Deklan’s palms shot out. The shoving motion sent his opponent flying. He crashed into the highest point of the wall just to fall empty to the wood floor. He moaned but stayed where he landed.

  Izobel dodged out of their path. Punches and kicks thrust from the ricocheting block. Isaak spotted the flash of his dagger and went for it. He came up with it slicing wildly. One of them caught across Abel’s chest in one flowing movement. Abel jumped back putting space between them. They squared off for a hesitating moment.