Never Cry Werewolf

by L. A. Banks

  “Whoa, whoa, you haven’t been—”

  “I haven’t been what?” He glared at her and stalked away, deep into the mist. “I haven’t been honest? I haven’t been loyal? I haven’t had your back? I haven’t understood? I haven’t been invisible? I haven’t loved you more than my next breath—and haven’t been faithful to you as my mate? I haven’t been hurt by you in ways I don’t want to revisit?” He turned away. “Tell me what I haven’t been.”

  She so wished she hadn’t been doing shots. This was not how the night was supposed to go. She had never seen him like this, and something very quiet within her told her this wasn’t just a fight, this was a very fragile transition that could easily snap a final branch in their relationship. Searching her mind for a response that made sense, one genuinely from her heart, she chose her words with care . . . but that process apparently took too long.

  Hunter shook his head and released a sad, bitter chuckle. “You can’t even answer me, can you, Captain?”

  “Don’t do this,” she murmured.

  “Don’t do what? Tell the truth?” Hunter looked at her hard. “I told you when we met I was no liar . . . and of all men, I’m the only one you never believed.”

  The charge was harsh, but she couldn’t challenge it. Words were again slow to form in her embattled mind.

  “I’m going to New Orleans,” he said flatly. “There’s work to be done down there—work important to the wolf Federations. Ask your brother about it, I don’t have time to debrief you. Maybe when I get back you can let me know what you want to do about us. That’s the part you’ve always needed to figure out—you’ve always been clear about your military career. My question is, where do I stand? Then again, maybe that’s a question that I need to ask myself—because, right now, Sasha, hell if I know.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Hunter was gone. The mist surrounded Sasha and folded in on her with an eerie silence that was all too sudden. There was nothing left to do but give in to her wolf and run. The North Country called her, summoned her, as did the moon. But there was an important stop she had to make to ensure her safety.

  Bolting to freedom, she left her clothing in a pool at her feet and then ran long and hard back through the shadows toward her apartment. Her goal was singular—to claim the sacred amulet that she’d laid on her dresser in the darkened room. Then she’d blend into the nothingness once again.

  But the moment she entered her closet, she became aware that she wasn’t alone. Her space had been violated; men were walking around, throwing things about. Unfortunately for them, her human was pushed way down deep inside her spirit, and her wolf was what they’d encounter for their trouble.

  Ears flattened against her skull, head low, Sasha moved forward as though she were a piece of living night. The closer she got to the source of the disturbance, the more her instincts registered the threat as a familiar one. The human scent stung her nose—it was that of the one lieutenant who hadn’t been injured . . . and she smelled Madison.

  Sasha remained still and took in another deep inhale. The urge to leap at the intruders and fiercely defend what was hers was so strong that it made her limbs tremble. Then the unmistakable scent of gunpowder assaulted her nose and brought with it the sting of common sense that acted like smelling salts. She knew they would fire on her if they saw her. It wouldn’t matter if she were back in her human form or remained as a wolf. That was what Madison wanted: a confrontation that would give him the justification to blow her away. She swallowed down a low growl, wondering if that was also a part of his mission, or just a sick sign of his overt prejudice against anything supernatural.

  Battling her kill instinct, Sasha crept to her dresser, transforming into her human just long enough to drape her amulet over her neck. She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment, seeing her eyes glow amber in the darkened room. A year ago that would have frightened her, too, but did that give someone the right to take her life just because she was different?

  However, there wasn’t time for the mental philosophical debate as she heard her living room wall unit crash to the floor. Did they have any idea what it had taken to put that together? It represented the last time that she and Rod and the whole team were together, having a beer, laughing . . . eating pizza, enjoying life, before Rod turned and had to be put down. Anger collided with grief. They had no right to take that from her, to destroy it! Shit!

  Her muscles tensed and she had to grip the edge of the dresser to keep from lunging at the men who were trashing her place. It was a trap; they were baiting her and Hunter. As much as it had hurt her, she was glad Hunter was pissed off and had headed to New Orleans. There’d have been no stopping him if he’d witnessed this. And she wasn’t sure she would have wanted to this time.

  Yeah . . . things were way too fragile; it was time to go and stay gone.

  Sasha took one last glimpse through the partially opened bedroom door, turned away from her vandalized apartment, and then became her wolf-self again to stalk into her closet.

  A cold green flame spread along the outer edge of the carpet, eating up nap with icy fire and sending the sickening stench of sulfur into the room. Gathering into itself, it coalesced into one tall glittering pillar. He sat mesmerized, staring at its beauty, drinking in its power . . . knowing its absolute commitment to wanton violence.

  “You must feed me soon,” the disembodied voice from within the flame murmured, causing the column to sputter and dance in an eerie throb.

  “I will . . . just tell me what you need,” he whispered. “The area is crawling with ghost hunters and paranormal seekers.”

  “I want one of them. Every feed now must be strategic.” The green flame lapped the ceiling and then pulled itself up to crawl across it.

  “Tell me what to do,” he murmured, staring up at the miasma.

  “Come closer for the joining,” the voice murmured in a teasing coo.

  A long tendril of green flame stretched down and caressed his face. He closed his eyes as pleasure from the sensual touch coated him, burning deep within his groin. It had been so long since his personal demon had come to him like this that his body involuntarily arched toward the fire. Quiet laughter filled the room and entered his bones as he leaned up and then reached toward the roiling flames on the ceiling.

  It all happened so quickly—the searing pain, the echo of his scream, and then the bliss of complete consumption.

  Hunter stood next to Sir Rodney staring down at the body that was shredded on the bayou floor. Limbs had been shattered, and most of the viscera were missing. The victim’s chest was caved in, and Hunter was sure that this was the killing blow before the attacker had begun to feed. Shogun sat back on his heels and shook his head before uncoiling from the squatting position he’d been in to stand again.

  “Second human tonight,” Sir Rodney muttered. “Judging from what’s left, it would look like a wolf did this, but we know better.”

  “It was cat,” Shogun said and then spit on the ground. “My aunt—Lady Jung Suk.”

  Hunter nodded and inhaled deeply. “It is the same scent we’ve picked up before . . . but this time she fed.”

  “Yes. Before she’d only cast nasty spells to do her handiwork, carving sigils on her victims to make them burn to death. Not this time.” Shogun wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve, clearly disgusted. “She needed a body to feed. She’s no longer in the state the Unseelie Fae left her in.”

  “If she is no longer disembodied, then she will be easier to track,” Hunter said, staring at his brother for a moment. “Fortunate for us . . . but unfortunate for the humans. Time is not on their side. We must find her soon. Whoever returned her to a bodied state had to employ dark magic—and that is the beginning of our countercase at the UCE.”

  “Damn it all!” Sir Rodney shouted and then paced away through the wide opening his Fae archers allowed so he could pass. “Ever since the UCE event I’ve had sleepless nights knowing there would be repercussions, and now m
y friends and allies are being set up? This should have never been! You and Sasha came to the aid of my court. We were under attack, and you helped us hunt down and exterminate the source—now you are being brought up on charges? This is insane! What’s just as bad, I have been attacked in my own sidhe by a possession spell cast by the Unseelie.”

  “True, but typical,” Hunter said, stalking away from the rotting-body stench. “The Vampires are strategic. So are the Unseelie. We knew Cerridwen was in with them since we brought Kiagehul to trial. She and Vlad left arm in arm, so is there any wonder? They know if they break our backs, we of the wolf Federations, then an unchallenged return to rule will be easy for them.”

  “You have permanent asylum in the sidhe,” Sir Rodney said, lowering his sword in Hunter’s direction. He glanced around at his men. “Always will the fortress be at your behest.”

  “But where will we run under the moon?” Shogun said calmly, moving in a slow, zigzag path among the trees. “Where will we hunt?” His calm gaze locked with Sir Rodney’s. “I am sure you have heard the slogan ‘Live free or die,’ yes?”

  “Yes,” Sir Rodney said with sad eyes. “Yes.”

  “And there is a complication that we must not forget now,” Hunter said, staring at the men before him. “The humans. This has moved beyond the realm of our hidden communities. Humans have been fed on, one of the bodies at least has been found . . . and before it’s all over I am sure more will conveniently find their way to the human authorities to inspire a wolf hunt.”

  “This is why I’ve said to seek asylum, man!” Sir Rodney shouted, becoming exasperated. “Our Fae magic can hide you; we can give you glamour to ensure—”

  “Appreciated, but not as effective as you would believe in this era,” Hunter said, cutting him off. “I have been with Sasha’s military. The humans have become more sophisticated, their weapons beyond our comprehension from years past. These are not mere villagers who are fighting demon-infected werewolves with wolfsbane and silver-tipped crossbows from the eleventh century. This is what the Vampires know, too. Our biggest advantage had been that humans didn’t know we existed in the modern era. But now that they do, their tracking devices and DNA forensics are effective. With full military cooperation, they can monitor from the air, from satellites so sensitive that they can pick up the correct digits on a license plate from beyond the earth’s atmosphere!”

  Hunter walked away and punched a tree. “Rodney—when they do a wolf hunt, this time they have RPGs, machine guns, C-4 to blow dens . . . tanks. Do you understand what I am saying to you? If humans feel threatened by an entity that can die, that actually bleeds red blood, they will have no compunction about initiating an extermination directive—especially if they believe that species is feeding on theirs.”

  “But what about the Vampires, brother?” Shogun’s quiet, steady voice drew everyone’s attention. “If the Vampires are fanning the flames of a human wolf hunt, and the Unseelie are attacking our ally here, might we return the favor? The Art of War.” He bowed slightly and then waited.

  “Harder to do,” Hunter said, “and against our beliefs.” He waited until Shogun nodded. “Are any of us prepared to grab innocent humans and then try to drain their bodies of blood by inflicting a deep jugular vein wound? Or would we set a possession spell upon an innocent human, to incur a witch hunt and burnings at the stake like medieval times, just to have evidence drawn toward Cerridwen for revenge? The evidence would soon fall apart if we did anything less dramatic. As I said, the humans’ knowledge of the different supernatural species is in-depth in this modern era. Their forensic gathering techniques are to be respected.”

  “Especially since Sasha helped them understand,” one of the Seelie archers muttered. “And she has not yet responded to a missive we sent hours ago.”

  Both Shogun and Hunter turned toward the sound with a snarl as Sir Rodney wheeled around.

  “She was doing her job and has not been where she could receive it!” Sir Rodney shouted toward his men. “Never forget that! She is a head of state, the she-alpha of the North American Shadow Wolf Federation who kept the humans at bay as long as was possible. This was not her offense! Captain Sasha Trudeau will have our respect at all times, and any challenge to that order is treason—are we clear?”

  Tense silence strangled the night, and Hunter looked at Sir Rodney with thanks as he paced away from his men.

  “We need her here,” Shogun said carefully.

  Hunter couldn’t immediately answer. “I know . . . but her own have turned on her and her travel has been restricted.”

  “Then she is in danger,” Shogun said, coming up to Hunter. “We must—”

  “Do nothing,” Hunter said evenly, leveling his gaze at his brother.

  “I don’t understand.” Shogun landed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “What happened?”

  Hunter shrugged away from him. “She is safe in the North Country for now. We have work to do here to save our clans.”

  “Redirect the missive to locate her there,” Sir Rodney ordered his missive archer. “Make sure it contains all that we have recently learned. Call the other one back. It is dated.” Sir Rodney and his men looked between the huge male wolves with confusion as Shogun pursued Hunter deeper into the underbrush.

  “What work is more important than ensuring her safety, brother?” Shogun called out behind Hunter.

  “She is coming to her own conclusion about which comes first—us or the humans!” Hunter shouted, wheeling on his brother. “Do not allow your personal feelings for her to eclipse what is our priority as Federation leaders.”

  “Unnecessary and way out of line,” Shogun said, taking a stance. “As a Federation leader, she is a priority—her safety is no less an issue than yours or mine would be if we were being tracked by the human military. Maybe it is you who has allowed your personal feelings to eclipse what is a priority of our national interests.”

  “Gentlemen . . . the war is with those who seek to destroy us, not one another,” Sir Rodney offered in a solemn tone. “We cannot afford to be divided or conquered.”

  The night wind parted Sasha’s silvery coat with each bound as she ran wild and free across the Uncompahgre. Summer scents of lush flora in bloom filled her nose and broke her heart as she raced through the breathtaking land that Hunter had once shown her. He’d coaxed out her wolf, had shown her its majesty, and had opened her eyes to an entire new plane of existence that she’d once thought was frightening and evil. But it was so beautiful, his version of wolf, that her soul wept.

  So she ran to keep from throwing her head back and releasing a mournful howl. Everything she’d known was being stripped away again, being savaged from her grasp. As vast as the open country was, there was no escaping her thoughts, no getting away from Hunter’s words—or the look on his face. The hurt that she’d caused him cut her to the bone as though they were linked, as though they were the same body and owned a singular spirit. Yet the independent wolf within, or the fiercely independent woman, would not allow her to easily relinquish her old military life that she’d fought so hard as a woman to prove herself within.

  What was it all for, though?

  The words echoed inside her brain, chasing her like a predator, making her heart slam against her rib cage as her body defied gravity, leaping, stretching, to out-race herself until she collapsed.

  That’s when the tears came—the private purge, the private mourning. Wolf paws receded into human female fists that hammered the broken grass. Her hair spilled over her arms and shielded her face from the moonlight as bitter sobs racked her body. She was a soldier, goddamn it! She had worked so hard, saved so many lives, had followed all the rules . . . well, enough of them, given the circumstances. She’d endured the humiliation of being different, being a lab experiment. Had overcome the so-called limitations of being a woman in a male-dominated profession, those of a combatant . . . and had dominance-battled her way to the top of the Shadow Wolf Clan. Yet none of that seemed
to matter. Still, in this day and time, she was defined by her mate-status in one world, Hunter’s—and by her DNA in the other.

  Fatigue and slowly accepted defeat ebbed her sobs. Sasha pushed up and wiped her grass-stained face with dirty hands to stare at the moon. But the sight of the large, luminescent disk made her vision blur again with sudden moisture. The realization that this was the first full moon she’d spent alone since she came into her wolf stabbed her so unexpectedly that she could barely breathe.

  Sasha closed her eyes and allowed the tears to flow down her cheeks without censure. There was no getting around it, she loved that man.

  “I heard they found another body,” one nervous by-stander said as a crowd gathered on the balconies of the French Quarter hotels.

  Police lights flashed an ominous red and blue stain against dim bar windows and asphalt. Onlookers craned their necks to see the carnage, ignoring warnings from authorities to go back inside. Cell phone video ruled; digital cameras set off a paparazzi bonanza.

  “It’s a free country!” one man shouted from a balcony with a beer in his hand.

  “Yeah!” another called out from across the street.

  “Whatchall ’fraid of, huh? Tell the truth and shame the devil,” a huge woman shouted, holding her children close under her meaty arms.

  Black police helicopters hovered over rooftops warning people to go back inside, to no avail. Crowds had gathered wherever was possible without being directly down on the street in violation of martial law. It was a fine line, a balancing act, but a defiant refusal to disperse nonetheless.

  Russell Conway used the telephoto lens on his camera to get a better view, and judging by the size and strange angles of the body tarp in the side alley, there wasn’t much left of the victim. He cringed inwardly and took the shot, adding it to his collection of paranormal incident photos. When were humans going to realize that really horrible things owned the night? If the government wasn’t going to put down these beasts and exterminate them, he would. He owed the memory of his little sister and mother that much.