by K.N. Lee
“Cell phones,” Syd replied with a hiss. “I’m here, now. Where should we unload…the cargo?”
Leighton smiled. Syd hadn’t lived in Britain for at least a century, but retained a thick accent. He still preferred communication by postal service, and claimed that he never watched television. The one modern convenience Syd loved were cars. He owned several collections of them on his estate: Jaguars, Bentleys, Porsches, and a few brands so elite that Leighton couldn’t name them.
“You can keep them inside the van, if you like. It’s more trouble to move them into the basement and then back out again,” he said, with a glance toward the gray sky. “It will be twilight soon.”
“Good. I do hope I brought enough. I’m sure the men are working up an appetite.”
“Yes, they are,” Leighton walked with him up the stairs to the house.
“How is your girl?” Syd asked.
“Changeable as ever. Such a moody child.”
“Well she should be excited. This is her coming into power. And her chance to pick her mate.”
“I sometimes think that my grandson raised her around too many humans. She seems to think that she should have the kind of life that they do. It’s taken years to undo that way of thinking in her, and there still seems to be a little of it in her system.”
“Pack Mother is a huge responsibility. Are you sure she’s ready for it?”
“Yes, I am. She’s a tough woman. She’ll keep the men in stricter line than I do. Already she’s shown me some of her leadership qualities.”
Syd laughed, a wheezing snicker. “Well, I do suppose a pretty woman has advantages when it comes to controlling all these young Wolves. Since she can sex as many of them as she wants.”
“Or withhold it,” Leighton said.
“Are you concerned?” Syd asked.
“My hope is that she hasn’t gotten herself too attached to any one of them,” Leighton replied carefully. “A good Pack Mother understands how to keep the subordinates in line. Not just her mate. There’s always that thin margin of human blood in her to be concerned with.”
Syd patted him on the back. “My friend. She has turned you into a concerned father! I never remember you having such worries with your sons when they were young.”
“Well, a daughter is different than a son,” Leighton remarked. “And Marradith comes with more complications than most.”
“Not to worry,” Syd replied. “Tonight is all about the Feast.”
Marradith braced herself as Fiona laced up the back of her dress, holding on to the footboard of her bed. The dress was long, and leather, the top of it was a corset. This was the traditional wear for the occasion. Though back in the old days, there wasn’t such fine, thin leather to make the dress out of, Fiona told her.
“It’s going to be cold out tonight. I really have to wear a shoulder less dress?”
“Stop whining,” Fiona said. She pulled on one of the laces in the back, causing Marradith to yell as she felt her body being constricted.
“This makes me look like a Victorian whore. All I need are petticoats with some whalebone.”
“You’d be wearing that too if I could have found any,” Fiona snapped.
“What is your problem with me? Why are you doing all this?”
“Leighton never told you that I knew your mother, did he? Of course not,” she said, watching Marradith’s eyes widen. “He likes to pretend that you’re his daughter.”
“Mother never mentioned you to me.”
“Well, she wouldn’t have. Leny saved my son when he was a boy. Protected him from the Graymoor. She even took him into her own house for a while, said that he was her son.”
“I don’t remember that. When did that happen?”
“Before you were born,” Fi snapped. “Believe it or not, the world existed without you for a time.”
“Was that back in Costa Rica? Is that how you met Rafi?”
“Yes,” Fiona replied. She stopped working the laces on the back of the dress. “Do you know what the Graymoor does when they find a mixed child? One that is part shape shifter and demon, as mine is?”
“No. But you’re going to tell me, right?”
“They skin them alive, Marradith. Imagine someone doing that to a child.”
The thought made her a skin crawl. Even amongst Wolves and vampires, it was considered a cardinal sin to harm a child of any race. A child might be left alive to fend for themselves, or turned Other, but rarely were they killed.
“I promised Lenora that if her children ever needed help, I would be there for them,” Fiona said. She leaned forward, so that she whispered in Marradith’s ear. “How do you think that Scott and Danny were able to get out of here so easily? I made sure they had the money and the means to get where they were going. Your Uncle Jake writes you because I gave him your email. Leighton didn’t care what happened to the boys. No telling what may have happened to them amongst a Pack of competitive males.”
“And what exactly do you call yourself doing for me?”
“Leighton would never let go of you willingly. He’s always been obsessed with you. You are the carrier of the bloodline. Once he relinquishes power, you will be the one in control. Is it really so bad, Marradith? To have all these men under your command?”
“Tomorrow night, those men will fight. And some will relinquish, but some will die. Including the man….” her voice trailed off. She had never told anyone but Justin that she loved him, and she wasn’t about to reveal that now, to this woman. “I have a hard time considering this a favor to me.”
“Think of it this way. Better for them all to die, than for you to be subjugated to Leighton.”
Fiona tied the corset. She told Marradith to sit down in front of her dresser, and she did so. How odd to think that her mother knew Fiona and that she’d helped her in a dangerous time. She had to admit, it sounded like something her Mom would do. She loved children, spent most of her life educating them. How easy was it for her to have a soft spot for a little boy that was being pursued?
Marradith had seen pictures of Fiona’s son, Terrance, as an adult. He was half black, but about the same complexion as she and her older brother. It would have been easy to pass him off as a Ryder. Scott would remember what happened during that time; he and Terrance couldn’t be very far apart in age. It was hard for her to believe that Fiona was the one who sent Scott and Danny away, though she could see how it made sense. She always assumed Scott must have stolen some of Leighton’s cash, but she had no idea how he’d reached Uncle Jake. Leighton took her and her brothers away right after her parents died; she never had the chance to go back and look through her Mother’s address book or her Father’s phone and get all the phone numbers for her relatives. A familiar ache stirred in her chest. She missed her brothers, wondered how they were. Taking a brush, Fiona tended to the girl’s hair, humming as she did it, as if they’d only been talking about the weather.
Justin arrived at Leighton’s house at dusk. His Pack Brothers all stood outside, waiting on the lawn. Hands in pockets, he stood to the side, not wanting to speak with the others. He heard them talking. Since yesterday, two Wolves had actually bowed out of competition for Marradith. Apparently, they were a little frightened of her. No one spoke of her abilities, though all of them knew she was a Lamia: a hybrid of vampire, Wolf, and witch. Justin smiled. He overheard one of the men saying, “You’d think they would tell you beforehand she can actually kill people. It’s not like she just has oversensitive hearing or can read minds.” What did surprise Justin was that Alejandro Vega was not one of the dropouts. He seemed to have recovered from the shock Marradith gave him.
Vega grinned and nodded at Justin when their eyes met, an acknowledgement. How does this kid think he’ll beat the other men here, much less me? Justin wondered. What a fucking joke. Justin had only nine contenders to worry about. Too many, but better than twelve. He watched Kieran talking and greeting some of the latecomers, acting as if he were the man in charge
. Wolves were known to hold grudges, and no doubt this man remembered his fiancée died at Justin’s hands. Amazing that Kieran seemed to forgive Leighton for making him Wolf, but still was worried about what amounted to a minor detail. If Justin hadn’t killed her, Leighton, or one of the other pack brethren surely would have.
“Hello there, Granthem.”
Justin turned to see Syd Thorne smiling at him. He hated Syd: it could have been the accent, or the ponytail stuck at the back of his withering skull, or the fact that he was so old that it was rumored he was one of the werewolves who lived during the time of The Crusades. Or it could have been that Syd was one of those men that just saw himself as superior to everyone. Leighton was a prick, but he could actually be fun on occasion. He never lost his love of women and drugs, and if you left him alone, he’d probably return the favor. Syd liked to toy with others minds, including that of Wolves. Not for advantage in obtaining prey or defending himself. It was the sheer sadism of his nature.
“Syd,” Justin said. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I don’t guess you’re competing for a chance to woo Leighton’s great granddaughter?”
He laughed. “Indeed not. I brought refreshments.”
As he said this, two men opened the back of the black vans that had been parked alongside the lawn. Standing downwind, Justin caught the scent before he saw them: humans. Men and women, all fairly young, from what he could tell. Most were probably homeless youth. They were clean; in fact Justin could smell the soap they‘d been washed with. The males were completely shaved, from head to toe. The females were allowed to keep the hair on their heads. All of them were naked.
Leighton rounded the corner of the house, holding tightly to Marradith’s arm. It was obvious to Justin that Marradith had put up a fight. There was a red blotch on the left side of Leighton’s face, where she probably slapped him. Silent, but puffing, her breath was visible in the cold air. The dress she wore looked painfully tight. Except for the flowing skirt, it left nothing of her form to the imagination. Justin could see her breasts heave with every breath.
“Tonight,” Leighton said, “We Feast. And when you men return, she will make a choice of one of you. So, eat well, because tomorrow,” he grinned, “you fight.” Syd’s men came out with cow prods, which they used on the humans. They were forced to the edge of the lawn, where the property gave way to the woods. As was tradition, the humans would be given a five minute lead before the Wolves descended upon them. Which did not matter, as none of them were expected to survive the next hour.
Syd grinned. “You’d do well to pay particular attention to that advice,” he sneered at Justin. “Eat well.”
What has gotten into you, Mari?” Leighton demanded as he took her back into the house. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to raise your hand to me.”
“I don’t want this,” she snapped. “I know what and who I want. There doesn’t need to be a competition. If I am to be Pack Mother, I should have my choice.”
“I’ve indulged you far too much. Your choice? Am I right in guessing that would be Justin?”
Marradith didn’t reply. “He’s good for womanizing you,” Leighton said. “But it will never go beyond that.”
“Why? Because you’re afraid of what might happen if he had even a grain of influence around here? Alright then,” she said coldly. “Have it your way.”
Leighton lifted an eyebrow. “That easy. You’re going to give up?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Daughter,” he replied. “Don’t play with me.”
“Leighton,” Fiona said. He looked up to see Fi standing in the doorway. “What’s going on here?” she demanded.
“Nothing,” Leighton said. He frowned like a guilty child.
“Of course,” Fiona said. “Come, Marradith. Let’s touch up your makeup.”
Marradith let Fiona lead her away. Neither of them spoke again until they were in the bathroom, with water running in the sink. She was reaching the point that she wanted to hurt Leighton. She could tell Fi felt it, like the accumulation of electricity in a stormy sky.
“Don’t let him get you upset like that,” Fiona whispered. “You realize what all the others would do if something…untoward were to happen to him? You are not the Pack Mother yet, and their allegiance remains with him.”
“I know,” Marradith replied. “I’m not sure I care.”
“Come on. The Wolves won’t take long with the hunt. You just have to get through tonight.”
“The first night of a three night ritual,” she snapped.
“Yes. But when it’s through, you’ll be free of him.”
Rafael stared from the window of his bedroom as the humans were unloaded from the vans. They were bound and gagged, blindfolds over their eyes. They barely made a sound, but the terror they felt was in the posture of their bodies, the way they tried to strain against their bonds. Rafael counted thirty of them in all. Thirty human lives for the taking of ten Wolves.
“Quite the dilemma, is it not?” Came a voice from behind him. “You can’t save a single one of them without showing your hand.”
Rafael turned slowly to face Adam Sarus.
“I didn’t summon you, so why are you here?” the warlock spat.
“I couldn’t help but watch you. Telling Marradith will not change anything, you know. She’s a silly child. I’m surprised that Leighton hasn’t wiped his hands of her.”
“Really? If you could get rid of her, you’d have done it by now,” Rafael replied.
It was difficult to look at Adam for long without looking away. His eyes were cold emptiness. Rafael noticed the old man’s wrinkled hands were drawn into fists. When Adam spoke, his words were full of vitriol.
“No one can help you. Nothing can help you.”
“Why did you bring me here?” Rafael spat.
“I didn’t bring you here,” Adam said. “Something happened when Xia took you. I don’t know what, exactly. But there are always consequences. You’ll find that out soon.”
When Rafael turned to ask what he meant, Adam was gone.
Marradith went outside and sat on the front steps. She brought a jacket along with her---damn tradition--and sat with her legs crossed on the steps. Justin saw her, and broke from the rest of the men. He kissed her cheek, and she put her arms around him. She knew he sensed that she was upset.
“Justin, do something for me?”
“Sure? What?”
“Make sure you don’t sleep here tonight,” she said. “I know most of the others will, but make sure you’re not here. Go back to your house.”
“What is it you’re not telling me?”
“Rafi will come to see you, once the hunt is over. You don’t have much time. Now go.”
It had been years since Justin talked with Rafael, but he knew that the man was like family to Marradith. He just didn’t understand how this man fit into whatever she was planning.
“Alright,” he said grudgingly.
“Be safe,” she whispered.
He kissed her one last time, and then ran, disappearing into the tree line.
From where Bruce stood at the edge of the woods, he watched.
“That will be the last time you touch her tonight,” Bruce growled.
Justin spun on his heels. He turned to see his pack brother standing only yards away, his face flushed with anger.
“Enough of this. You want to fight? Let’s fight.”
Kieran heard the growling of other werewolves. He was deep in the forest. Making quick work of his meal, he turned around. Most of his brethren were already tearing the flesh of the humans. The youngest, Vega, seemed to be playing with a female that was trying to escape. She crawled, blindfolded still, but had managed to break the ties around her ankles. Vega followed her, close enough that she felt his breath, perhaps even the prickle of his fur. But she could not move quickly enough to get away from him. Sniffing the air, Kieran identified the scent: two Wolves, further off, not far from the clearing. He�
�d heard their guttural howling earlier and thought at first that they were enjoying a shared meal. A few words of the primal language reached his ears, and he realized that instead, these Wolves were fighting each other. Running, he went towards the noises, lifting his body in its lupine form to his full height.
Justin was in his primal form within seconds, heat raging through his body as he faced his opponent. This had been building for a long time. Justin had fantasized before about killing Bruce, and now that the time was here, he couldn’t wait. Bruce cried out in pain as Justin’s claws sank deep into his flesh. He was a younger Wolf than Justin by many years, and he underestimated how strong he would be, or how many times that strength would be multiplied by his rage. Stumbling backwards, he barred his fangs, and then charged at Justin, his orange eyes glowing like fire. Justin stepped forward, ready to take his kill. Bruce fell backwards.
Justin saw the claws that pierced Bruce’s neck from behind. He was dead before his body hit the ground.
Kieran laughed at the shocked expression on Justin’s face.
“I did not need your help,” Justin shouted.
“Perhaps. But this is Feast night, and there shouldn’t be any infighting. Besides. No one else here is going to kill you. That is a pleasure reserved for me.”
The other Wolves came, gathering in a circle.
“Men!” Kieran cried in the primal language. “I saw Bruce attack Justin while he was unaware. He performed sacrilege on a Feast night, and I killed him for it. What shall we do to this traitor?”
“FEAST!” They cried.
One by one, the Wolves circled and took apart what was left of Bruce, bit by bit.
“They will be coming back from the woods soon,” Marradith said as Rafi came up beside her. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I will be.”
“Justin knows to expect you.”
“I don’t like this. It’s risky.”