"Cal," she called, jogging toward him. "It's been months."
It had been. He'd been so busy looking for his mate in the Packs within his territory that he hadn't called into the Coven as often as he normally did.
"Faye, I thought you might still be in Sable."
"No, Simon and I are here until the summer solstice."
"I need to talk to Gavin." Gavin was the head of the Coven. He and Cal didn't always see eye-to-eye, but they respected one another.
"Gavin is away at a retreat with some of the other Coven elders. But Leona is here, visiting Simon. She just came from Evenfall."
And Cal's task became infinitely easier. He knew Leona well. She was knowledgeable, sensible, and more sensitive to shifter politics than Gavin.
Faye led the way to the house, and they found Simon and Leona drinking tea in the kitchen. Within minutes, he found himself sitting at the table with a sandwich and cup of coffee in front of him.
"You look serious, Cal. There's a problem, I take it?" Leona asked.
He explained about the snare, watching their reactions carefully as they went from confusion to shock and disbelief. He left out any mention of Dylan, not feeling the need to complicate an already complicated situation.
"You didn't, by any chance, bring one of the snares with you?"
He opened his backpack, pulling out the bag they'd wrapped the snare up in.
Leona took it from him, opening it with care. She ran her hands along the wire, her face tense with concentration. By the time she'd finished, her expression was dark.
"You're right. It's magic targeted at shifters. Very specific. If a human or animal stepped into the trap, it wouldn't tighten around them."
"Can you tell who's responsible for it?"
"While magic has a certain signature, whoever did this was careful to cast very blandly. There's no tell, no mark, that would give an indication of which individual or group might have done this."
"The shifters suspect Laurel."
"Things have always been tense between us," Faye admitted. "But it's been years since there's been any open conflict. And decades since there have been any deaths."
"Well, they have lost one and almost lost another. If we're going to keep the peace between the two groups, we need to find out who is behind this, and why."
"It's not Laurel," Faye said. "It's not our way."
"What Ether did wasn't their way either," Simon pointed out gently. "And you haven't been here for most of the past year."
"We'll do some investigating," Leona promised. "The last thing we need is a deterioration in shifter-coven relations."
"What about helping those already caught in the snares and finding the rest?"
Leona looked grim. "I can make up an ointment which should remove the effects of the magic. As for finding the snares…" She shook her head. "The magic in them makes them hard to detect. You won't see them until you're already caught in them, unless you're staring right at them. That goes for humans too. Presumably to stop anyone interfering with them."
She stood. "Faye, I'll need access to some ingredients."
"Of course, what's ours is yours."
Simon went with them to help, and Cal was left alone in the kitchen, chewing on the last of his sandwich. If it wasn't Laurel targeting the wolf Pack then who? And why? It was all a tangled web and he was not a fan of spiders. Rowan Pack was the strongest Pack in his territory, which depending on the agenda, made them more or less of a target. Equally, Laurel was believed to be the most powerful Coven in the territory. He had no doubt, if they put their minds to it, they could pull off something like the snares. But why? There was no inciting event, like with Ether, when Nagan Pack had killed their leader's daughter. There was no immediate benefit that Cal could see.
At length, he went to find Leona. There was one thing he couldn't puzzle out, and Leona might have the answer.
She was working side by side with Faye when he entered.
"Faye, would you mind seeing if you can find some fresh garlic? It will work a little better than dried for this particular mixture."
Faye smiled at Cal as she passed by. Leona glanced over her shoulder at him before turning back to her work.
"I recognize that expression. Thane has an identical one. You're holding something back, Cal."
"I found my mate, caught up in one of those snares."
That gave her pause. "Congratulations. Is he alright?"
"That depends. Will that work on a human?" He nodded toward the pungent concoction she was stirring.
"It wouldn't need to. The magic will only target shifters."
"When I found him, Dylan's ankle was wrapped up in a snare. I helped him out of it. That was almost two weeks ago. I saw it yesterday. It looks like the wire burned into his skin. It has spread upward to his knee. I thought maybe coming into contact with me activated the magic within it."
She pondered that for a moment. "No. He shouldn't have been able to become entangled in it in the first place. The magic is very specific. It should not have burnt human skin."
"But it did, I've seen it with my own eyes. So will this work?"
"Ye-es," she answered with some hesitation. "You're sure he's human?"
"So human, it's almost painful."
"And male?"
"Yes," he answered shortly.
"That seems… biologically short-sighted."
"Tell me about it. But it is what it is, and there's no changing it. Besides, Dylan, he… he's really…" Words failed him, and he looked over to see Leona trying to hide a smile behind her hand.
"You shifters. When you're smitten, you're really smitten."
Faye arrived back with Simon.
"We're going to form a search group to comb the woods for more snares. We're working on some spells that might help us locate them a little easier, but the wire may be spelled to resist that," Faye said.
"I'll let Rowan Pack know what you're planning. I'm sure they'll be appreciative of the help," Cal replied, though even as he said it he knew it was closer to aspiration than reality.
Leona ground the fresh garlic with a pestle and mortar, and then added it to the mixture.
"Almost done," she said, and a minute later she poured in into two jars and sealed them.
"One for Rowan's wolf and one for Dylan." She handed them over to him. "One application should be sufficient, but there's enough for four in each. Hopefully, you won't need them."
"Thank you, Leona. I'm grateful. I'll leave right now."
He met Andy at the edge of the Pack lands, passing him the jar of ointment. The wolf opened it and sniffed, grimacing. "I hope it works better than it smells."
"Leona assures me it does. And Laurel Coven is determined to help stop what's happening."
"Could be a ruse. Act the innocent, pretend to be helpful to put us off guard while they're killing us off one by one."
"To what end, Andy?"
"Shifters and Wiccans have never been easy sharing this land."
"That doesn't mean they've suddenly decided to wage war."
"Guerrilla warfare isn't a new concept. It's as ancient as any of our powers, and theirs."
"Conflict isn't the Wiccan way."
"They're human too. And humans know war intimately."
Cal could see the conversation was going to go around in circles.
"Just let your people know that Laurel is sending out parties to search for, and remove, any snares. It will take them at least a few days to cover the area around where we've encountered snares so far. If your people need to travel, I would suggest you ask for a Wiccan to accompany you to clear the way."
Andy laughed scornfully at that. "And let them walk us right into a trap?"
Cal had had enough. He growled low under his breath, stretching up to his full height. As he watched, Andy froze, then crouched low against the ground.
"Rowan Pack will not start a conflict with Laurel, or they will have me to answer to."
"No, not u
nless we have concrete proof that they're behind this," Andy agreed.
"Good. I'll be back in a day or two. Keep your people out of the woods. And if Laurel offers help, accept it."
Chapter Nine
He tracked the Coven search group, following their trail for as long as he could, deeming it the safest route through the forest until he had to break off to make his way to Dylan's home.
It was growing late by the time he reached the house, and he was glad to have the cover of darkness to sneak back in. He waited until he heard Dylan's grandfather go to bed before he tried the door. Locked.
He stepped back and looked upward. It was a warm night and there was a window open on the second floor. It was a long way up for a human, but not for a shifter. Using the drain pipe to scale the wall, he pushed the window open fully and slipped inside. He listened, hearing the sound of deep breathing coming from the opposite end of the hall to Dylan's room. Shay still slept.
He tried the door to Dylan's room dismayed to find it still locked. Turning the key, he opened the door and stepped inside. Dylan was curled on his side in the bed. Cal could tell from the quick sounds of his breathing that he wasn't asleep.
"Dylan?"
The other man didn't answer his whisper, didn't move. Concerned, Cal went to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder. Dylan's whole body was tense.
"It hurts," he muttered through clenched teeth.
"I have something that will help." He swung his backpack off his shoulder and pulled out the jar, making quick work of undoing the seal. Then he pulled back the covers. Even in the dim light of the room, he could see the angry red marks standing out on Dylan's ankle.
"This might sting," he warned, spreading the mixture thickly across the marks.
He helped Dylan turn onto his back, keeping his knee bent and stopping his ankle from rubbing against the bedclothes.
Smoothing a hand across Dylan's forehead, he could do nothing but wait. Gradually, his breathing evened out, and the lines of tension eased from his face.
"Better?"
"Yeah. What is that?"
"Medicine."
"It smells strange."
"Medicine always smells strange."
Dylan smiled at that, his eyes drifting closed.
"I'll come back tomorrow, to check on you."
Dylan's hand suddenly latched on to his wrist.
"Stay, please. Just for a little while."
Cal sat down on the edge of the bed, holding Dylan's hand in his.
"I wasn't sure I'd see you again, after we kissed that first time. I'm really glad you came back, but I don't understand why."
For someone clearly wrung out from pain and tiredness, there was a clarity to Dylan's voice that Cal couldn't ignore.
"We have a connection. I've felt it from the moment I set eyes on you."
Dylan's eyes were open once more, their clear blue watching him.
"My people have a tradition, a belief, in destined love. That we have one true love who we are fated to meet and fall head over heels for. When we come of age, we get a mark that signifies the existence of such a person. And after that, it's a matter of waiting to meet them."
"You've been waiting to meet me?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?" It was posed in such an innocent tone that Cal was caught between amusement and dismay.
"You think I've made a mistake?" he asked, running his thumb across Dylan's palm.
"No. Well, maybe. Can… can I see it? The mark."
"If you like."
He let go of Dylan's hand and shrugged off his t-shirt. His mating mark lay across his heart, five black dots in a loose semi-circle with a lightning bolt through the center. Some legends said that there was meaning in the shape of the mark while others said that it was like reading tea leaves, open to interpretation.
Dylan reached his hand up, skimming his fingers lightly across the mark. "You think this is for me?"
"I don't think it, I know it."
"What if I'm not what you're looking for?"
"I don't understand what you mean."
"I'm just me. I've lived in this house all my life. I've never been further than the front gate or the river. I don't know how to hunt or do anything really useful. I can read, but there's not a lot of use in that."
"Who says?"
"Shay. He says I waste time on books that could be better spent doing chores."
"Why doesn't Shay let you leave?"
"He says it's dangerous out there. That there are lots of bad people. He can stay safe because he's older and knows a lot about the world. But I don't know anything."
"How will you ever learn if you don't go out? And what will happen when Shay is gone, when he isn't around anymore to look after you."
"I don't know," Dylan whispered.
"And how is locking your bedroom door keeping you safe? If someone breaks through the outside door, they're not going to stop there. And why are there bars on your window? You're on the second floor. Who is he trying to keep out?"
Dylan's eyes grew frightened at his tone. "I don't know. He said it was to keep me safe."
But yet it wasn't adding up, not to Cal at least. Was everything Shay had done to protect Dylan from the outside world? Or was it to protect the outside world from Dylan?
"Shhh. It's alright. I'm just trying to understand." He stroked Dylan's cheek, smiling when Dylan leaned into the touch, rubbing his cheek again Cal's hand.
"Dylan, have you ever been something more than what you are?"
He got a blank stare in response.
"Have you ever changed, been something different?"
He was met with more confusion as Cal struggled to put it into terms Dylan might understand without coming right out and asking.
"Some people have special abilities. Things that make them different from others. Like my family and the kind of people we are. Usually, the people we fall in love with are special too, in a similar way."
Dylan's face fell. "No, I'm just me. I've never been special. Does that mean what you said about true loves isn't true for us."
"No, not at all. In fact, my mother wasn't special in that way. She was extraordinary in many ways, but not in that. And my father loved her dearly."
That put the smile back on Dylan's face but left Cal just as confused as when he'd started. If Dylan was a shifter, there was nothing in him to suggest it. His scent was human, through and through. Nothing in how he moved or spoke, nothing in his body, screamed shifter. His appearance was striking, but that wasn't a feature unique to shifters.
Dylan opened his mouth to speak, but Cal pressed a finger to his lips. "You need to rest. I'll stay until dawn and then try and see you tomorrow afternoon."
He'd need a few hours to see what progress Laurel Coven was making. And to make sure tensions with Rowan hadn't escalated.
Dylan settled down to sleep, drifting off with ease, though he held Cal's hand between both of his. Cal waited until shortly before the sun rose to make his exit. He didn't think Shay would react well to finding a stranger in his grandson's bedroom.
Dylan woke alone, lying on his back with weak sunlight creeping in through the window. His bandaged ankle was the only sign the previous night hadn't been a dream, that and the complete absence of pain. Unwrapping his leg, he was surprised to find the skin almost healed, only a faint pink line remaining.
Feeling better than he had in days, he dressed, waiting eagerly for Shay to unlock his door. The near permanent frown on his grandfather's face eased when Dylan greeted him with as much energy as he could.
"You seem better."
"I feel it. Can I grab a shower and make us breakfast. I was thinking oatmeal pancakes with some of that raspberry jam."
Shay nodded. "That would be lovely."
They chatted as they ate, about normal things like what they'd grow in the garden come fall and how sick they both were of eating turnips. They'd had a bumper crop the previous year.
"I have to go r
un some errands this afternoon, but there's a lot of work to be done in the yard," Shay commented as they finished the last of their meal. "Can I trust you to finish the work while I'm gone?"
"Of course, Shay. I told you, I feel much better."
He knew that wasn't what his grandfather was getting at, but he didn't want to tackle the issue of Cal directly. Somehow he didn't think he could hide his feelings on that score.
After breakfast, Shay went and retrieved a brown paper bag, pulling a box from it and setting it on the table.
"I got something for you from town the other day. To help keep you focused."
"What is it?" Dylan asked, stepping closer.
"It's a tag. It goes around your ankle and it stops you going too far from the house. It's set to stop you going beyond the gate."
He ushered Dylan into a seat and before he knew it, the tag was snapped closed around his ankle.
"Why? What happens if I go past the gate?"
"It shocks you. And if you keep going, it will knock you unconscious."
"I don't understand. Why would I need this? I won't leave the yard, I promise."
"You promised me things before and where did that lead us? No, this will help keep you safe, help you keep your promise."
Dylan opened his mouth to argue.
"I won't hear another word. You wear it or you don't leave the house, ever. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Dylan whispered, rotating his ankle slowly. How was he going to get out of this mess?
Chapter Ten
He worked all morning with Shay in the yard before they took a break for lunch, gulping down large glasses of cool water and munching on watercress sandwiches. Shay gave him a list of chores to finish as he left, stopping for a moment to place a hand on Dylan's shoulder.
"You're a good boy, Dylan. You always have been. But you're young, and there is so much you don't know. I need to keep you safe, whatever happens."
With those parting words, he left. Dylan retreated to the yard to get started. There was a lot to be done.
He worked for a solid hour, so focused on his work that it was some time before he realized he was being watched.
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