by E. A. Copen
Maybe he was gone forever. It was a rare thing for ghosts to hang out once they’d completed their business. Maybe handing me this recipe—however odd it was—had been his.
No, I thought. I couldn’t buy that. Not with everything else going on. This couldn’t just be about a recipe. I had to stop and think about what he’d said. Hear without hearing and see without sight. That was the first thing. He’d spoken as if doing so would make his instructions clearer, but I couldn’t exactly turn off my senses. Or did I? Before doing a thorough aura reading of a room, I had to do just that, entering a state of altered consciousness that left me aware only of magickal energies in the room. But how was doing that going to help me understand his strange instructions?
The roar of motorcycles and the familiar, trembling rattle of Chanter’s truck pulling into the driveway forced me out of my own mind and back into the present. I stepped over the broken picture frame, tucking the envelope and recipe into my pocket, and rushed to the living room window. Istaqua and Flash had pulled into Chanter’s driveway while Sal sat behind the wheel of the truck. Bran sat in the bed of the truck, guarding two people with black pillowcases tied over their heads. Plastic zip ties secured their hands behind their backs and the bared steel of Bran’s katana discouraged any attempt at escape. The men had been stripped down to their underwear and white tank tops which were smeared with bright red blood.
Sal got out of the truck as Bran lowered the tailgate and pulled the first man out, pushing him into Sal. His growl rattled the double window pane and Sal batted him roughly aside. The man fell hard to one side and lay there, his shoulder twisted awkwardly.
Shauna came around the back of the house and regarded Istaqua with a cold stare but quickly diverted it and lowered her head when Sal turned to bark something at her. Daphne, who had come out from behind the house just after Shauna, shrank two inches into a slouch.
I went outside, making sure the door made a sound when I shut it so I didn’t surprise anyone. All eyes (save for Shauna and Daphne’s, which remained glued to the ground) turned on me.
“What’s she doing here?” Istaqua snapped. “Pack and club only. That’s what we decided.”
“I’m Hunter’s proxy,” I offered, hoping that would be enough. Hunter wasn’t a full member of the pack yet, but he did have a stake. Everyone knew that. Now that the shooters were somehow going to be involved in the fight, I felt I had even more right to be there.
“She stays,” Sal said. There was an edge to his voice, as cold and sharp as the sword Bran had resting against both prisoner’s necks. “Alpha wasn’t the only one wronged here.”
“But the fight is a pack matter.” Istaqua didn’t sound argumentative. He stated it as fact.
“And, when I win this, one of the first things I’ll do once everything else is sorted is bring Hunter into the pack.”
Shauna chanced raising her head. “You mean you’ll hold a vote to bring him in.”
“No,” Sal growled in a rough voice, his eyes picking up their signature golden glow. “He needs the pack to help make him whole again.”
“But—”
“The pack’s always been a democracy and that’s half the reason nothing ever gets done.”
Istaqua gave an approving grunt.
Daphne wiped tears away. Shauna’s face hardened and her voice reflected the glowing, cool blue of her eyes. “You wouldn’t say that if you were yourself.”
Sal took it as a challenge and started toward her. I decided I should intervene before he forgot he was supposed to be fighting.
“Saloso Silvermoon,” I called in the strongest voice I could manage.
He stopped midstride and lowered his foot, slowly turning glowing wolf eyes to glare at me. I had issued my own form of challenge by using his name in long form while daring to stand in a higher place relative to anyone else. Good. Someone needed to tell him he wasn’t in control of the situation.
I hadn’t meant to imply I was either. When the implication hit me, I quickly sank down to sit on the stairs and formulated the rest of what I planned to say as a request instead of an order. “Could I have a moment of your time?”
The request went over better than expected. “I need a drink anyway,” he growled to Istaqua, Shauna, and Daphne and then turned to stalk toward me.
I jumped up before he got there and pulled open the door. He stopped and looked me up and down with narrowed eyes before storming through. I gave him a few seconds before going in after him.
With the intensity that he was staring down the narrow hall, I wondered if he sensed Chanter’s ghost had been there and then quickly dismissed the idea. Werewolves might have a good nose, but I didn’t think ghosts had a smell.
“Are you going to kill those men?” I asked in a low voice.
“They killed Chanter. They hurt Hunter, could have killed you.” His shoulders heaved twice with heavy breaths. “I want them to suffer.”
“No you don’t,” I said stepping closer. “You want Chanter back. You want to stop hurting.”
He spun around and slammed a forearm against my chest, just below my throat. The move knocked me back, pinned me to the wall, and lifted me several inches from the ground.
“You don’t know anything about what I want,” he said with a snarl that told me he was only barely maintaining any humanity.
I swallowed and dropped my eyes away from his, staring at his nose instead. “Am I even talking to Sal right now? Or have you become so weak you can’t even fight it anymore?”
“I’m not weak.” He pressed harder onto my chest.
“Oh really,” I managed wincing and wheezing at the pressure. Just a little more and he would crack bones. “What kind of a wolf lets a coyote lead? What kind of an alpha lets himself get backed into a corner and lies there waiting for the end instead of fighting with everything he’s got? Valentino’s right. You can’t lead. That’s why you’ve let Istaqua tell you what to do.”
The words didn’t feel like mine, even though they came out of my mouth and lived in my head. It was as if another voice had whispered them into my ear and compelled me to say them. Chanter’s voice, I realized after I’d spoken. That must be what he meant.
Sal lunged forward and snapped his teeth next to my ear, his voice gravelly from the Change coming on. “I don’t bow to him. I won’t.”
“Then think this through,” I pleaded. “Don’t make me choose between loving you and what I believe is right.”
Sal’s face changed, softening, and eyes widening in realization. He withdrew his arm. I crumpled to the ground, gasping and rubbing at my sternum. The pain radiated through my whole ribcage. Every breath I drew made my throat feel raw.
“I’d never ask you to do that.”
Sal stood over me with his head lowered and turned to one side. His eyes were still gold and angry, but he looked hurt now on top of it. No, not hurt. Ashamed.
I risked reaching up to brush his fingers. “I know you wouldn’t. You’re not yourself. You’re hurt, grieving. I don’t know how to put you back together, but I know you need the pack if you’re ever going to stand that chance.” He watched me with the interest of a wounded animal. Had he been a wolf, his ears would have been back and his fur ruffled at the neck. “You have to win, but you have to keep control of the wolf.”
“If Chanter were here...”
“But he’s not, and he knew the day was coming when he would leave things in your care. No, he didn’t count on going so soon, but he knew it was coming. I know if he was here, he could help you, but we have to manage without him.”
Sal sighed and said in a whisper, “I don’t know how.”
“Yes, you do.” I wove my fingers around his. “But you don’t want to, and it’s hard, I know. The same way it was hard when I had to learn to live without Alex. I felt alone then, too. When it happened, I thought I might die along with him it hurt so bad. It’s okay to admit how much it hurts to lose someone you love and to be betrayed by someone you used to lo
ve. It’s okay to admit Zoe hurt you and that losing Chanter hurts.”
“But I can’t look weak, not when they need me.”
I squeezed his hand tighter. “I’m not pack. You tell me whatever you need to say, grieve with me however you need to grieve. Do it with me so that when you go out there and face them, you can be their strength.”
The muscles in his throat worked as he tried to find words and failed. Finally, he squeezed my hand back and then sank down onto the floor next to me with a loud thud that shook the whole house. Sal collapsed forward, head on my shoulder. The extra weight hurt and pushed me back against the wall. He made a choking sound and his shoulders shuddered against me. I put one arm up over his back and leaned into his head, closing my eyes.
New pressure came down on my other shoulder. My eyes snapped open, and I looked up to see Chanter’s ghost standing over us, one hand on my shoulder and one on Sal’s. “Stupid wolf,” he said, but there was no anger in his voice. “Wise girl.”
“Help him,” I mouthed.
Chanter’s form flickered, and he sighed, taking his hands off both of us. “He must do this one without me.” Then, like a lightbulb burning out, the ghost grew brighter and vanished.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I don’t know how long we stayed like that. The sunlight filtering in through the kitchen window dimmed and turned blue then gray. No more cars pulled in, meaning Valentino wasn’t there yet. Outside, I could hear the muffled voices of Istaqua, Bran, and Daphne. Shauna growled once, and it sounded very close to the front door. I thought maybe she’d decided to stand watch.
Sal stayed leaning against me, his head on my shoulder. The extra weight made my tailbone hurt and my legs go numb. There was a damp, salty puddle on my shoulder and running down the front of my shirt in streaks from his tears, though he’d long ago stopped weeping. His breathing was calm and his muscles slack, as if he were asleep. Maybe he was. He needed rest more than anything, least of all to be fighting someone he considered a brother for control of the pack.
Two vehicles pulled into the driveway. One of them was Ed’s moped. I knew only because his puttered out earlier than the other, presumably Valentino’s El Camino. The last members of the pack had arrived. We were out of time. I reached up and touched the side of his face.
“I know,” he said before I could speak.
“You should go get cleaned up,” I said. “Clear your head and get where you need to be. Remember, Valentino challenged you. You’re just defending your place. You don’t need to go overboard.”
“And the two shooters Istaqua and I found?” He leaned back, eyes bloodshot. His normally earthy-coppery skin had a few splotches of lighter color. “Would you still have me hand them over to you? Istaqua won’t let that happen. I doubt the pack will accept it.”
I gave him a firm look and put my hands on either side of his face. “If you are the alpha of this pack, then they will obey whatever orders you give.”
He made a small sound, somewhere between a whine and a sigh. “But how do I know what the right one is? Should I just let them go? Turn them over to you? Go with Marcus’ plan?”
“What would Chanter want you to do?”
Sal frowned, looked down to the floor, and then nodded. He stood and pulled me up with him. I had more of a hard time standing than I should have but only because my legs still felt like vibrating, wet spaghetti.
“You should go on out,” he told me. “I need some time alone in here to think and get ready.”
“What should I tell Valentino? I thought you were supposed to get started at dusk.”
Sal rubbed his forehead. “He challenged me. As the defending party, it’s my right to take a short delay and let him sweat. Besides, haven’t you known enough Indians now to know we suck at keeping time?”
The joke was reassuring. This was the Sal I was more familiar with. He was back in control, but the faint glow that still touched his normally honey brown irises told me the wolf was still inside, and close to the surface, watching and waiting for his chance to take over.
I nodded and hugged him again. “I’m fine,” he promised me, kissing the top of my head. “When you walk out of here, I need you to say that I’m fine. Not with words but with action.”
Speak without words, I thought in Chanter’s voice, though the words were a memory and not the whisper of a ghost.
I looked down at the wet marks streaking down my shirt. “I don’t think this is going to send that message.”
Sal stripped off the black t-shirt he wore and held it out to me. Sal’s shirt had been tight enough on him that it did wonderfully interesting things to his chest and arms, but I would be swimming in it. He was a little more than a foot taller than me and easily had a hundred and fifty pounds on me. The shirt would go almost to my knees. At least it wasn’t a V-neck, which meant I didn’t have to show my chest off to everyone.
I tugged off the wet t-shirt and tossed it at him. When I caught Sal staring, I gave him a mock scolding glare. “You could’ve turned around, you know.”
“So could you,” he answered with a tired grin.
Knowing that he was going to be all right, at least for now, I went back outside.
The air held the evening cool and the faint hint of ozone, the promise of a storm. Gray clouds had rolled in low and heavy, roiling one against another. There was no thunder or lightning just yet, but I caught the earthy smell of rain on the wind.
Valentino’s El Camino had pulled in behind my car. Judging by the car seat in the back, Nina had driven. Ed’s moped was parked beside my Firebird.
For the first time, looking out over the cars, I considered what an odd choice Ed was for Valentino’s second. Why had he picked the lowest ranking member in the pack? He could have chosen Nina and had a stronger standing. As far as I knew, Ed and Valentino’s relationship was strained at best. Valentino had always pushed Ed, trying to make a more passive werewolf into the killing beast he thought all werewolves ought to be. It wasn’t in poor Ed, and there was a streak in him that probably resented Valentino for it. I knew Ed was still mad at me for Mara’s disappearance and for getting both of his legs broken. Ed could hold a grudge. Maybe the choice was a dig at me, or maybe the two had suddenly become allies while I wasn’t looking.
But it was Shauna I had to deal with first. She stood at the bottom stair of the porch, arms crossed, just daring me to try and pass without talking to her.
“Sal is fine. He’ll be out in a minute. He’s doing some mental prep,” I told her.
Her eyes traveled down me and back up. “Mental prep,” she said and snorted. “If he’d think half as much with the head on his shoulders instead of the one between his legs, we’d all be better off.”
“He seems stable.”
“For now,” she said shrugging. “The wolf side likes being angry. Likes the hunt, the kill, the challenge. Anything the wolf deems is his, he will protect.” She looked me up and down again. “You and Hunter, especially.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” I snapped.
Her eyes lit up. “Everyone belongs to someone.”
“Does that include you?”
Shauna showed me her teeth. “I belong to the pack first. Regardless of how this fight ends, I know Sal is the better man. I would follow him through fire. Would you?”
“I’d never let him walk through it in the first place,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
Her newfound devotion to Sal had struck a nerve. I knew what she was asserting, that this wasn’t my place. Pack bonds would always be stronger than anything I had with Sal. If he had to choose between me and the pack, Shauna expected him to choose the pack. She was wrong. Sal wouldn’t ever have to make that choice. Should it ever come to that, I would walk away before the notion ever occurred to him. Not because I didn’t care for Sal, but because the pack needed him more than I did. That truth wouldn’t make it hurt any less, but I would do it just the same.
“An idealist,” Shauna snorted. “You t
hink you can save everyone, don’t you? All hail Judah, the conquering hero. Whatever would we do without you?”
“I don’t know what your problem with me is, Shauna, but I think it can wait for another time. There’s enough tension here tonight as it is.”
“This is my pack. Sal is my alpha.” She shook her head vigorously and the move reminded me of a dog shaking off water. “If that’s clear, you and I don’t have a problem.”
Nina came around the side of the house with Leo toddling along beside her. She still hadn’t put on any makeup. She wore her long, beautiful black hair down. Her clothes were rumpled and two nails chipped and broken. I noticed for the first time that she had very faint freckles on her sun-bronzed cheeks.
“Where is he?” she said, blinking bloodshot eyes.
“Busy,” Shauna growled and stepped between Nina and me.
Nina’s eyes went gold and she snapped at Shauna who snarled back, a bold move against the highest ranking female in the pack. If Leo hadn’t started to cry, the two of them might have broken into a fight. Instead, Nina bent down, picked up her son, and stood rigid.
“I only wanted to talk with him about the funeral arrangements,” she said.
“Wanted to come rile him up, more like,” Shauna grunted.
“Contrary to popular belief, I love my cousin, Shauna. This fight pleases me even less than it does you.”
Somehow, I doubted that. Everyone knew Nina was behind Valentino, pushing him to challenge Sal. She’d been sore he wasn’t in the top spot from the beginning.
“You know the custom,” Shauna answered, raising her chin. “If you wanted to speak with him, you should have advised your husband to withhold his challenge.”
“I am not my husband’s keeper,” Nina spat and then glared past Shauna at me. “And none of this would have happened if she hadn’t gotten involved.”
“Silencio, Nina,” said Valentino from behind his wife. He strode up and lifted Leo out of her arms without protest. “Shauna is right. That discussion can wait for another time. Let’s deal with the problem at hand before creating another.” He planted a kiss on his crying son’s forehead, a rare public gesture of affection, and then handed Leo back to his mom. “If you want to help, go and check the torches, eh?”