Never Cry Werewolf

by L. A. Banks

  CHAPTER 7

  A hot shower after her run had helped a little, just as the good clean cry had helped wash some of the pain out of her spirit. The combination had relaxed some of the tense muscles in her back and neck, if nothing else. Right now she was simply numb.

  Sasha sat on the porch kneading the nape of her neck and watching the aimless pattern of fireflies. Their haphazard blinks had a hypnotic quality that she latched onto, trying to find some semblance of peace. They seemed to know as much about where they were going as she did at the moment. Tomorrow she’d have to deal with all of that . . . would no doubt have to face Colonel Madison, would have to figure out how to shield her team . . . would have to figure out what to say to Hunter.

  For a moment she looked around at the rustic cabin that had become her second home. This was indeed a refuge that Hunter had created, a place that had once hid her from her people when they didn’t understand her transition. It was a place where he’d healed her after a nasty she-alpha battle . . . and it was the place that he loved her hard and good and true. Sasha squeezed her eyes shut. There were so many things that had been left unsaid.

  But a swoosh and the hard thunk of an arrow hitting the wooden post beside her put Sasha on her feet. The Fae missive instantly unfurled from the arrow that carried it. She read the words carefully. She had to get to New Orleans, no matter what. Someone had tried to send another possession spell through the sidhe barricade and this time had nearly succeeded?

  Panic filled her as she thought back on everyone who might still be vulnerable to the old discharged spell. Clarissa had puked, and it didn’t smell right—not that vomit ever did, but something was definitely wrong. Conflict tore at her. If she went to New Orleans, she’d be violating a direct order, which was grounds for court-martial. But if she stayed, her people could die. The choice was basic: She was going back in.

  Sasha held the missive in her fist and spoke to it. “Tell Sir Rodney I understand. I may have a civilian squad member who’s been affected—Clarissa McGill. I’m coming in, but I need a body double . . . some type of Fae glamour for a couple of hours so I can do a quick recognizance and get out without my brass being any the wiser. Can you do that? I’ll wait for a reply.” She flung the arrow back into the air and shut her eyes tightly as it sped away. “What are you doing, Trudeau?” she murmured to herself. “This is crazy!”

  A familiar howl broke her concentration and made her eyes snap open. Sasha listened intently as the bushes moved and then noises came from within Hunter’s shed across the clearing. She waited until Crow Shadow opened the door wearing a pair of Hunter’s jeans without the benefit of a shirt or shoes.

  “Just wanted to borrow these for a minute so we could talk,” her brother said as he loped across the clearing. “Will drop them in the yard on my way out. Good thing Hunter keeps changes in there and in the cabin for when we come out of the shadows . . . makes it less awkward.”

  “It’s all good,” she lied, looking at a taller, darker, lankier version of herself. There was no reason to bring her brother into this madness. She needed to know more before she got the entire clan in a lather.

  Her brother hesitated at the bottom step and stared at her, his eyes still glowing with his wolf. “It doesn’t sound all good.”

  Sasha shrugged. “What can I say?”

  “Hunter told me what happened.” Crow leaned against the stair rail for a moment before taking the porch steps in one easy bound.

  Sasha just looked at him.

  “About how you’re confined to the state,” her brother added, coming to sit on a pine chair in front of her. “But from the way you just looked at me, my wolf instinct says it was more than that.”

  Sasha sent her gaze out toward the darkness to study the fireflies again. “Got busted for the New Orleans situation . . . the paranormal didn’t remain ‘contained,’ ” she added, making little quote marks with her fingers in the air. “The news got out to the general public, human civilians got killed, and they took the mission from me. I’m stranded here until they can figure out what to do with me. Not much to tell—other than it kicks my ass because we’ve got a ticking clock at the UCE. That’s the part the military doesn’t get—there’s a whole bunch of paranormal nations involved and I have to keep the lid on that or else things will really blow.”

  “Sis, can we just be real with each other?” Crow Shadow said, leaning forward on his elbows. “I got that part—that’s the warrior-to-warrior conversation. Hunter gave us all a debrief before he headed out. Bear is to watch Silver Hawk’s back, and to be sure the old man is cool when he goes on his vision quest. I’m supposed to be your backup, with Woods and Fisher, and to be sure your human squad isn’t jumped by those assholes on the base. But that’s not what I’m asking you.”

  Their eyes met in a standoff before she looked away. “There’s not much more to tell,” Sasha said in a quiet tone.

  “How’s your head?”

  She returned her gaze to Crow Shadow and shrugged, then bit her lip.

  “I thought so,” he said, and let out a long breath. “Look, Sasha, we’re family . . . albeit we found out late in the game.”

  She nodded and swallowed hard, biting down harder on her lip as her brother spoke.

  “I mean, who knew?” Crow Shadow opened his arms wide and let his head drop back. “Shit . . . I was grown and thought I knew who my father was.” He sat up straight and stared at her with a pained expression. “Then I found out about Doc, that he was the one. It made all the parts and pieces of my life fall into place . . . why the father I grew up thinking was mine always looked at me funny, always was extra hard on me, as though he was carrying a grudge that I was even born.”

  “I know,” Sasha murmured. “So much came out that year—but I don’t blame Doc.”

  “I don’t blame him, either,” Crow said, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. “He was never told about me, and he made you to keep you from being the kind of monster the boys in the lab were playing around creating. But what I am saying is, you and me and Doc have wasted—or lost—a lot of time. If I ever have a kid . . . I’m gonna be there, no matter what. Must have killed him not knowing about me, then finding out like he did . . . or knowing about you and having to love you without letting anybody know so they wouldn’t put both you and him in a glass cage. Damn. It’s no wonder we’re all screwed up.”

  She could only nod; what her brother was saying was true, but right now she was so worn out emotionally that it was hard to process.

  “Like . . . remember when the Vamps snatched me and kept me hostage, hooked up to their frickin’ blood machine?” Crow Shadow was leaning forward with his hands clasped together, and Sasha covered his hands with her own.

  “Oh, God, how could I forget?”

  “I thought I was gonna die, but I could feel you searching for me. That’s what gave me hope.”

  “I felt it,” she said quietly. “I can’t explain it, but I knew you were alive and that I had to find you.”

  “Right—that’s what I mean. There’s no explaining the wolf.”

  Sasha offered him a sad smile. “Now you sound like Hunter.”

  “Then you have to know that I know something between you guys isn’t right.”

  Sasha slowly sat back and wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “He didn’t say anything to me, Sasha, so relax.” Crow got up and came to sit on the bench beside her. “I could feel it as he talked about you, and I could sense it when I came up those steps and looked into your eyes. Something isn’t right. Whatever is going on, don’t do this. He loves you, you love him. I can say it to you, because you won’t bare fangs at me.”

  She gave him a wan smile. “You sure?”

  A supportive arm came across her shoulders. Little by little she gave in to the pull of it and allowed Crow Shadow to hug her.

  “You are such an alpha . . . I can feel you fighting the tears, Captain . . . can feel you fighting to keep that stiff uppe
r lip. But I’m telling you it’s cool—I’m your brother, okay. It’s safe with me, Sasha. I don’t know what happened, and it isn’t my business . . . but I can tell you that something built up inside that man—he’s wounded.”

  She couldn’t answer, could only squeeze her eyes shut more tightly and nod, breathing in short, anguished bursts.

  “You can let down your guard and I’ll have your back just like you had mine.” Crow Shadow hugged her tighter until she rested her forehead on his shoulder. “If this is all I can do for my baby sister, let me, all right? You saved my life, came in there with another huge alpha, Hunter’s brother, and kicked ass when it would have been so easy to just leave me. You didn’t even know I was part of you, then, but you wouldn’t leave me.”

  “We don’t leave our own,” Sasha said in a muffled voice, her voice beginning to quake. She drew in another deep breath to steady herself and then fisted her hands at Crow’s back. “I am just so tired . . . of proving myself.”

  “With us, you don’t have to,” he said quietly. “Just be you—that’s good enough.”

  Elder Vlad stood at the edge of Lake Pontchartrain eagerly awaiting the uncustomary icy breeze that would announce the arrival of Queen Blatand of Hecate. She was an Unseelie masterpiece. The ancient Vampire felt his fangs begin to lengthen as frost covered the blades of grass beneath his feet, even in New Orleans in July. Within moments his sight was rewarded as the fragile, porcelain beauty materialized out of an icy mist. A wash of blue-white moonlight sparkled in the tiny, sequin-like icicles that crusted her pale blue gown. Penetrating pale blue eyes arrested him, and her frosted blue lips quirked up in a half smile. Tonight she’d left her long platinum hair down as though to tease him, and he studied how it spilled over her shoulders and petite, perfect breasts.

  “Cerridwen,” Elder Vlad murmured.

  “You have summoned me,” she said, quietly coming to him and placing a cold hand against his cheek.

  He turned his face into her palm and kissed the center of her hand. “Yes . . . it is done.”

  “The creature has a body?”

  Elder Vlad smiled a toothy grin. “Indeed.” But his smile faded as Cerridwen backed away.

  “Witches and warlocks can be . . . how shall we say . . . sometimes unreliable. They are, after all, human.”

  “True,” he said, with confidence, taking up her hand for a moment. “But given your opposition to Sir Rodney, and all that you have to gain from taking his place at the UCE when this plays out . . . your hands must be clean.” He stared into her eyes and then kissed the back of her chilly hand.

  “I am slightly uncomfortable with some of the logistics associated with this plan, but I do trust you implicitly.”

  Colonel Madison looked down the jump-seat row at his men. The engine drone of the aircraft felt like it was drilling a hole in his temple. Two more innocent humans had been found in that supernatural cesspool called New Orleans? He’d clean it out, would eviscerate any wolf dens down there—then would come back to Denver and address the dual wolf threat that was too close to the base. There had to be more of them locally; he could feel it. They traveled in packs, clans, Trudeau’s report had said. She’d tried to blame things on so-called Vampires. Bullshit. These were wolf killings. Vampires would be next on their target-of-value list. Right now, Vampires weren’t active, weren’t draining human beings of blood and snatching bodies.

  Pure hatred burned within him as he thought back on how the two wolves had bested them over at Ronnie’s Road Hog Tavern. And the brass had let one of those beasts in the U.S. Army? She’d scammed the brass, had lied! There was no difference between a fucking Werewolf and a Shadow Wolf, except that the former was vulnerable to silver and the latter was not! He’d seen them slip in and out of shadows using stealth, and something that agile, that strong, and that dangerous had to be eliminated. A beast like that moved humans down a notch on the food chain, which was unacceptable.

  Talking about wolves that were demon-infected versus those that were not was splitting hairs; they were all rabid dogs, as far as he was concerned. He’d frag that bitch Trudeau as soon as look at her if he got a chance—and there would be a chance, one night, somehow. The fact that she was allowed to even wear the same uniform and claim to be of service to his country was a slap in the face. Affirmative action had gone too far!

  Worse yet, his own command had allowed her to pass off information from her animal lover as intel? As far as he was concerned, anything that wasn’t 100 percent pure human needed to be exterminated—wiped off the face of the planet.

  The thought of it made him grind his teeth with unspent rage. The huge male wolf had toyed with him and probably given three of his best men concussions. But this time they’d be ready. They could heal later; they were warriors. Right now it was time to rock and roll. The two-hour-and-thirty-six-minute flight from Denver to New Orleans was the only thing standing between him and monster killing.

  Madison glimpsed out of the window, glad that it was still dark. A full moon would hang around for at least two nights, long enough for them to kick in some doors, blow up some bayou hideouts, and come out with a wolf hide.

  “Juarez, you good?” Madison said, glancing at the flank man who’d taken the first blow to the head in the tavern’s parking lot.

  “Never better, sir,” Juarez shouted over the din of the airplane motor.

  “Good man,” Madison shouted back. “McPherson, Johnson, you good?”

  “Roger that, sir,” McPherson said with a hard nod, returning a steely, blue-eyed gaze.

  “Locked and loaded, sir,” Johnson said, his dark eyes set hard within the ebony frame of his face.

  “Pho?”

  “They never laid a hand on me, sir—but I’ve got an early Christmas present for ’em,” Pho said, patting his weapon.

  Colonel Madison nodded toward his men and then sat back in his seat. “Hoo-rah!”

  “Wait, brother!” Shogun called out to Hunter, leaving Sir Rodney and his retinue behind.

  “Just howl and we will guide you to the sidhe,” Sir Rodney shouted toward the retreating wolves. “You have safe haven there.”

  Moving quickly to catch up to Hunter, Shogun simply waved and kept running.

  “Brother, we are one clan! Do not go into the shadows where I cannot follow you!” Frustration turned Shogun’s gait into a flat-out dash until he caught up with Hunter, rounded him, and stopped his retreat by body-blocking him. “Stop and talk to me!”

  “There is nothing to discuss. We must find your aunt and put her out of her misery before she does more harm.” Hunter sidestepped Shogun and kept walking.

  Again Shogun caught up to him, but this time grabbed his arm. “No, there is more than that!”

  Hunter snarled as he looked down at Shogun’s hand, but Shogun didn’t remove it from his bulging bicep.

  “There is nothing more than that!”

  “Now I know your wolf isn’t thinking clearly,” Shogun said, slowly letting go of his hold on his brother. “There is evidence to gather.”

  Hunter glared at Shogun but didn’t move.

  “Yes, brother,” Shogun said firmly. “We must stop Lady Jung Suk, but we must find out who embodied her . . . this will take investigative work. We must fan out our forces, get to covens—the only source strong enough to cast such a spell, or prove that the Unseelie acted on this—and then we must find the benefactor.”

  “We already know it was probably Vampires.”

  Shogun nodded. “This is truth. However, that is also how we have arrived at this political dilemma. We knew it was them, but we didn’t have evidence before we acted. This time we must arrive at the UCE with hard evidence, or there will be an open license for retaliation against us. Sir Rodney could also be sanctioned, which would give his ex-wife, Cerridwen—Queen Blatand of Hecate—his seat.” When Hunter turned to fully look at him, Shogun stepped back and relaxed. “The ruling power that comes from the bench is something I do not have to revie
w with you, yes?”

  Hunter released a quick breath of frustration. “I am aware.”

  “Then what happens if the Unseelie queen and the Vampires take control of the United Council of Entities? How long do you think it will be before the other supernatural parliaments fold and brutal rule returns? Then . . . what happens to our wolf Federations—whether they are Werewolf or Shadow Wolf, we face certain extinction, as that is the goal, and always has been for the Vampires. It doesn’t matter that the Unseelie only care about annexing power from Sir Rodney’s Seelie court. They will exterminate us, brother. Wolves will be no more—only those who have been demon-infected and living behind the demon doors.” Shogun slapped his chest hard with emotion, making his long spill of jet-black hair sway and shimmer in the moonlight. “Your kind, my kind, our clans living peacefully amid humans will be a thing of the past!”

  Silence stood between them for what seemed like a long time.

  “This is how I know you are distracted,” Shogun said carefully. His tone was nonjudgmental and weighted with compassion. “We have come to know each other well . . . we have battled side by side, even though we were raised to adulthood never knowing about the other until recently. But there is a bond. You have saved my life, I have saved yours . . . we are not each other’s enemy.”

  “You are indeed my brother,” Hunter said after a moment. “Yes. What you say is true. Forgive me.”

  “I am going to risk my life by telling you the truth . . . since the one thing that is constant with Shadow Wolves is that you are no liars.” Shogun smirked and stepped back out of Hunter’s swing range and then dragged his fingers through his hair, his calm, almond-shaped eyes focused on Hunter’s stoic expression. “We Werewolves do not have that same code of honor . . . we will lie, our value system is a little less rigid. But we do have our own code of honor.”