BlackWolf Legacy

by Sydney Addae

They slowed and he saw large mansions dotting the hillside, animals in fields, and wheat blowing in the wind. Before he could fully comprehend what he was seeing, they picked up speed. Things were different. It was as if they were in a tornado, flying head first through a storm. The journey became bumpy, something bounced off his head.

  His stomach rolled from the turbulence. He thought she would stop or slow down. She did neither. The winds blew harder as if refusing to allow them to go further. His face hurt from the force of the stinging wind.

  “Arrrgh,” he growled as his body shook. He closed his fist in determination. If Amynta could take it, so would he. He checked Hawke and Angus’ energies and pulled them closer.

  “Almost there,” Amynta’s voice flowed through Barticus’ link to them. One moment, it seemed as if a thousand ants were on his face tearing into his skin, the next a cool breeze flowed over him. He took several deep breaths and wrinkled his nose at the odor of animals, burning peat moss and excrement. He hadn’t smelled that combination in centuries. They moved forward slowly. Nothing seemed familiar. Not the large moss-covered mansion in the distance, the crops blowing in the fields, or the well-groomed landscapes. He wanted to ask where they were but recalled Amynta’s instructions not to distract her.

  Slowly, he heard sounds and voices. Amynta had been right, he didn’t recognize the language and hoped Hawke and Niall would be able to tell them what was heard, or all this would be a waste of time. They floated forward. Bodies came into view.

  Silas wasn’t sure what he expected but seeing someone who looked like him, Angus, Hawke, and Niall standing tall in a meadow, wasn’t it. There was no question they were all this man’s descendants. Awestruck, unable to speak, Silas stared for several moments taking in the appearance of the person who started their line.

  Amynta gasped. “Nikolas,” she whispered with pained longing.

  A tall blonde with wide shoulders stood nearby listening to a tall, willowy, female with thick brown hair and brilliant blue eyes that seemed to fill her heart-shaped face.

  “Bazla. Konstantin,” Amynta whispered almost reverently.

  The three stood close together talking.

  “There’s someone else here,” Amynta said. They moved upward and to the right.

  Silas stretched to see the man wearing a dark robe hiding behind the trees, watching the three.

  “Do you know him?” Silas asked forgetting the don’t ask questions rule.

  “He looks familiar but I’m not sure,” she said as they watched the man a few moments longer.

  “They’re beginning the ritual,” she said and returned to their earlier spot.

  “Is there a way to watch the spy and hear the ritual at the same time?” Silas asked.

  “I’ll try.”

  They turned slowly until they faced the hiding man and were close to the trio. “This is the best I can do,” she said.

  “Hawke, you and Niall focus on Nikolas and the ritual. Angus and I’ll watch the other guy, it’s possible he does something that the others aren’t aware of,” Silas said.

  “Will do,” Angus said.

  “Yes, Sir,” Hawke said.

  “Alright,” Niall said.

  “Hawke, if this isn’t the ritual we’re here to learn about, let me know once you realize it,” Silas said.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “This is the day they told me they would do this,” Amynta said, her tone sharp.

  Silas had forgotten they were all linked and she could hear him.

  Amynta was as close to a living eye witness that they would find. These men were historical figures to him, people he read or heard about. For her, they were friends who saved her and Asia’s life. “Just wanted to be sure but your affirmation is good enough for me. Forget that last instruction, Hawke.”

  Bazla started a small peat fire. Once it burned she held a small pot over it and poured something from a pouch into it. Smoke billowed up as she started saying something.

  Konstantin closed his eyes and appeared solemn. Nikolas stared at Bazla who continued speaking in a melodic voice. When she stopped she pulled out a ceremonial knife and handed it to Nikolas. He cut his palm, held it over the pot so that his blood ran inside. Bazla continued speaking.

  She took the knife from him, stirred the contents of the pot with the tip of the blade and then placed the blade on his palm. It stopped bleeding. Enthralled, Silas’ gaze constantly slid between the ritual and the man who watched.

  Nikolas walked a short distance from the other two, pulled out his penis and urinated around him while remaining in the middle of the circle. When he finished the circle, Bazla handed him the pot without crossing over the line. Nikolas raised the pot heavenward, said words and poured the contents on the ground.

  The man in the woods raised his hands as well and his mouth moved.

  Bazla saw him, stretched out her hand and said something. He ran a short distance and fell. Konstantin went to the man and using his sword, killed him.

  The contents in the pot went into the ground as if a sponge soaked it up.

  “Oh no,” Amynta said as Bazla started speaking again.

  Nikolas’ sad expression required no interpretation, something unexpected had just happened. It took everything within Silas not to ask questions, but it was important for Hawke to hear whatever Bazla was saying.

  When Bazla stopped speaking, Nikolas left the circle. Bazla tossed something from her pouch onto the ground. It sizzled along the circle Nikolas had created and stopped with a loud pop.

  “Good, she sealed it,” Amynta whispered.

  The three stood with their heads together talking for several more moments before walking away without glancing at the dead body lying on the ground. Amynta drifted behind them as if she couldn’t bear to leave her friends again. When they reached a relatively large house, Bazla kissed Nikolas’ cheek first and then Konstantin’s. She then walked up the path toward the gate. The two men watched until she reached the porch and entered before turning to walk down the path.

  How far they would follow the men and was it relevant to their quest for information regarding the ritual Silas wondered. Since Nikolas and Konstantin were talking he assumed Hawke and Niall were learning vital information to assist their Clan. The men eventually stopped and held each other in a loose one-armed embrace. Konstantin walked in one direction, while Nikolas headed in the other.

  “That’s it,” Amynta said. “That was a lot to see and answers a lot of questions for me. I hope you got what you needed.” She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, they were hurled backward so fast Silas became dizzy. His head hurt as he became nauseous. Maybe since she wasn’t searching for the right exit or time period she wasn’t careful at all with their return. It was fast, disorienting and painful.

  He woke coughing and rolled over to release the contents of his stomach.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JASMINE HAD SEEN A lot of unbelievable things since she met Silas. As his mate she had met several celestial beings, had conversations with the Goddess and lived to talk about it. She had seen Nicromja, the self-proclaimed God of male wolves, and wasn’t in the least impressed with the narcissistic being. She had been told wolves weren’t the only paranormal humans in the world but so far had never met any other shifters or creatures. Her good friends, the Chimera, didn’t count since they were born human and changed into humans with extra abilities, but were still humans. When Silas was under attack with the Shershrine, she hijacked Shyla to save him and Angus. That alone was some weird stuff and she hadn’t batted an eye.

  Mystic stuff bothered her.

  In reality, a man turning into a wolf or anything else, had its roots in mysticism, she understood and to a point accepted it. Trying to decipher how her kids and husband changed into something else gave her such massive headaches she no longer bothered.

  She rubbed her palm against Silas leg and took another deep breath trying to locate the source of her discomfort. Silas mind traveled all th
e time. When Tyrese was held captive in Lyrill, Silas connected to him through Tyrone. Silas did the same with all 50 of his Alphas on a regular basis. Even the meetings he attended this week with the BlackWolf Clan had been done on a mental plane, she got that.

  But this. Going back in time, taking Silas back, not just in time, but to a specific event to gather information, bothered her. It reminded her of the disquiet she felt when she first learned about the chameleon bracelet Angus created using crystals and the damage it could do. Granted, she hadn’t been a part of the Nation long but she had been horrified that such a thing existed. She thought it should be tossed in the deepest hole never to be recovered. No one should be able to sift through another person’s memories or take on their persona.

  Silas agreed with her and considered locking it away.

  She was all for it until Tyrese and the people in Lyrill held him hostage. Strange how a personal crisis changed her perspective. Angus and Asia used the bracelet to rescue him and while it’s still a powerful weapon that could do a lot of damage if the wrong hands got hold of it, she also saw the value. She tugged on that lingering memory of good coming out of the unusual to steady her. An image of Storm and Renee rose before her. They wanted children and a future. What Silas was doing could help them. Thinking of the benefits to Pack and her family eased Jasmine’s mind.

  Silas bucked and started shaking.

  Startled, she tried to hold on to him but couldn’t. Without thinking, she jumped and landed on top of him to keep him on the bed. His groans and sharp head movements had her wondering what was going on.

  “Silas?” she called through their link but received no answer. That was a problem. Even though she had been warned, she didn’t like him not being available to her 24/7. His hands curled into fist as his body went taut beneath her as if he was straining.

  “What’s going on?” she asked at the sound of rapid gunfire. It took a moment to realize the sound was coming from outside. “Not again. When was this guy going to give it up?” As the gunfire continued, she closed her eyes and dropped her head onto Silas’ chest. “Why? Why? We go away for one week, just one and we attract the looniest of the loonies.”

  Lying still, she listened to the repeated gunfire.

  Shyla strode into the room. “Jasmine, that fool’s back with about 15 men on the beach moving around the island trying to break through Alpha’s shield. Will it hold?”

  Until that moment, Jasmine hadn’t thought of the possibility of the shield not holding and resented Shyla’s implication. Tamping down her frustration, she gave her mate another glance and spoke. “I’ll layer it just in case.” She slid from Silas’ calm body.

  “Angus just relaxed too. Wonder what happened to make them react that way?” Shyla said.

  Jasmine wasn’t sure and didn’t bother guessing. Cortes attracted her frustration and anger like a magnet. She was tired of his antics and waved in the direction of the loudest noise. “Maybe we should let them in, corral them into a bubble until Silas and Angus return.”

  Shyla laughed.

  “He wants to get in so bad, he keeps coming back,” Jasmine said considering the idea.

  “If it were him and a couple more, I’d agree. But that’s a lot of men to go missing, don’t you think?” Shyla said.

  “Once Silas and Angus come back they’ll go missing anyway. He already said he would kill the man if he returned.” Jasmine looked at Shyla, read the excitement in her gaze and grinned.

  “What are you planning?” Shyla asked.

  Jasmine looked at Silas who lay peacefully. “A windstorm?”

  Shyla laughed. “That’s always fun on a beach but you did that the last time.”

  Jasmine nodded. “You’re right, I did.” Ignoring the gunfire, she looked out the window. “Couple hours before sunrise. I don’t want to kill them.” She made that clear to Shyla. “Torment. Teach them a lesson, yes.”

  “If they are shooting when Alpha wakes... you might be more merciful,” Shyla said.

  Silently, Jasmine agreed even though she couldn’t do it. To save someone’s life, she’d take a life but she nor Shyla were in danger.

  “That’s Silas’ call and we both know he’ll deal with it. Let me see the security cameras.” They walked toward the storage room, looked at the cameras and searched for Estevan. He stood near a man placing light brown putty on something. Frowning, she pointed to the camera.

  “What’s that?” she asked as the men backed away down to the beach.

  “I don’t know,” Shyla said as an explosion sent tremors through the island. Trees fell, several men were hit and pinned on the ground.

  Jarred but okay, Jasmine pulled energy from the Pack to stabilize the shield.

  “I’d be honored to kill that fool,” Shyla said in a serious tone as she watched them return to the large hole in the island.

  “We could call the police,” Jasmine said more shaken than she wanted to admit. What was it with people in this part of the world and explosives? Silas, Angus and Hawke had been in a house in Honduras when an angry gang member thought they were humans who had attacked members of their gang, blew it up.

  Her heart clenched in memory. She had lost him. For a few moments Silas had died. Bless the Goddess, her seal on him saved his life and brought him back to them. Just thinking about that time messed with her, caused her to take a step back and want to sit.

  Shyla looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Perhaps she had. “Humans. They have laws. Using explosives on islands is against the law or it should be,” Jasmine muttered.

  “How would you explain the hole on one side...” Shyla gasped and pointed at the monitor. “They’re going in the hole and coming up on the other side. Look, they’re running toward the middle of the island.”

  Fear shot through Jasmine as she moved the shield further inland. Three men slammed into it and bounced off, hitting the ground. The rest of the men ran toward them. Estevan waved someone forward. It was the same man who had put the putty on the shield before.

  “Not again,” Jasmine muttered. Anger rose swift and hot through her, blotting her earlier hesitation as she walked toward the window and pointed toward the men. Sand swirled on the beach, slowly at first. As it lifted higher, heated energy caused it to swirl faster with the force of her displeasure. She curled her fist and envisioned them being pushed backward into the water.

  The men yelled and screamed as they were hit from every direction with the blinding sand and water. Estevan clung to a palm tree and wrapped his belt around it. The waves rose and lashed against the boat. It broke free of its moors and went out to sea.

  Thinking of the dead bodies, Lynda, and Jandro, Jasmine didn’t let up as men were tossed about, hitting trees, stumbling as drunks and screaming for help. Thoughts of the bomb Silas and the others endured fueled her wrath and caused the wind from her outrage to hit with greater force. Men rolled around on the shore and fell into the water. She searched for the man with the explosives but didn’t see him.

  Shyla closed her eyes for a few moments. “There’s three heartbeats left, including Estevan. Two are pinned beneath trees and covered in sand.”

  Jasmine didn’t care. “I’m tired of him and this mess. He put a hole in our island.” She still had a hard time processing someone released a bomb.

  Shyla nodded as the winds eased. “I offered to kill him.”

  Jasmine stared at the security cam to see the damage from her anger and the bomb as she forced herself to calm down. “If he keeps this up he won’t make it to sunrise.”

  Minutes later, Estevan untied himself from the tree and slowly walked to the shore. Staring out at the water he yelled a few curses, turned and headed in the direction of the men pinned beneath the trees.

  “How much you wanna bet he doesn’t help them?” Shyla asked.

  “Won’t touch that. Chances are he’ll take their weapons or cell phones to call for back up,” Jasmine said.

  “Think someone will come?” Shyla ask
ed.

  Estevan reached the first man, picked up the broken semi-automatic, looked at it and slammed the broken butt of it into the man’s head.

  “Make that two heartbeats left,” Shyla said.

  Stunned and unable to speak, Jasmine couldn’t believe anyone could be so callous and self-centered. Why kill his own people? It made no sense to her. With trepidation she watched Estevan reach the second man, pick up the semi-automatic, test it and hold it in the air with a wide grin as he turned and walked back in the direction he came.

  The pinned man must have said something. Estevan turned, fired several rounds at the man and continued on his way.

  “And the rat stands alone,” Shyla said softly. “I know all humans aren’t like this, but he’s a great reason not to have anything to do with some of them.”

  Jasmine should have been offended, after all she was human. But what could she say? Shyla was right. Estevan was the worst of the worst. “True, but you met Lynda and Jandro, too.”

  Shyla nodded. “Thank the Goddess. We have very little contact outside of Pack and I’m beginning to understand why. Watching him made me nauseous.”

  Tempted to send Estevan spiraling into the water, Jasmine fought down the urge as she decided to allow Silas and Angus the privilege of saving the day. Shyla left the room and returned moments later with two bottles of water. She handed Jasmine one.

  “I’ve got to get the bad taste of him out of my mouth.” Shyla took a long pull.

  So did Jasmine. They watched Estevan empty the semi into the woods and throw it. He stomped to the shore, looked out and then sat on the sand.

  “He looks pitiful,” Shyla said.

  “Evil and pitiful,” Jasmine said as she tossed the bottle into the trash. Today was their last day on the island and dealing with a lunatic wasn’t how she wanted to end the week.

  She heard Silas retching and fall to the floor and ran to their room. Shyla took off in the opposite direction.

  <<<<>>>>

  Unable to move or talk, Silas held his head as his stomach heaved, mercifully nothing came out. He hoped the world would stop spinning so he could regain his balance.