by E. A. Copen
“So, what’s going to happen tonight?” Hunter asked Sal.
“Chanter left a set of instructions,” Sal answered. He sounded as tired as I felt. Maybe more. “We’ll lay him out in the shroud, light the fire, and then go out to hunt.”
“I meant me.” Hunter’s weight shifted in the seat. “What do I do?”
Sal was silent for a few moments as if he were considering his answer carefully. “You remember when we went out into the desert and I showed you how to talk to your wolf? You been doing that?”
“He’s kind of an asshole,” Hunter grunted and I smiled to myself.
“We all are.” Sal chuckled. “But if you can talk, you can listen. When you Change, and you’re going to tonight, you let him do all the talking. You do the listening.”
“I still have to do it naked? And with people watching?”
“Why? You got someone you want to impress besides Amy-what’s-her-face?”
“Shh,” Hunter hissed through his teeth.
I cracked open an eye. “Who’s Amy?”
Hunter glared at Sal. “Screw you.”
Sal gave a playful growl. “Watch it, kid.”
“Screw you, sir.”
“That’s better.”
Hunter shifted and put his head on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re not dead, you know.”
“Me, too,” I said. “And, for what it’s worth, I don’t think your wolf’s so bad.”
Sal turned his head, the worry line appearing on his forehead. “You met Hunter’s wolf? This is news to me.”
“Kind of,” I said waving my hand. “I’m still not sure how much of that was real and how much was a vivid death hallucination. Life flashing before my eyes and stuff.”
“What’s your take on that, Hunter?”
Hunter shrugged one shoulder but didn’t answer. A long moment passed in silence. I almost drifted off to sleep.
“What are we going to do about the house?” Hunter asked.
I cracked open one eye, but Sal answered for me. “With everything that’s going on, the pack still hasn’t managed to finish with it. The holes in the wall still need filled. Paint needs put up. You’ll need new furniture, too.” He glanced over at me. “And, honestly, I could use the help with Mia.”
Hunter’s eyes lit up. “Cool, are we moving in?”
“No,” I interjected and then reconsidered briefly. “Not yet. Just until the house is finished.”
Sal smiled and gave a mock sigh. “I’m going to need a bigger vehicle if I’m going to haul two kids and a human around.”
“And a car seat,” I pointed out. “Maybe you ought to get a big SUV and put a stick family on the back. Throw in one of those baby on board signs.”
He snorted quietly. “I think a good sized and reliable sedan will do. I ain’t ready to fill up a whole SUV. Unless you want to.” It was a playful dig, one he wouldn’t have made if he was still annoyed at me.
Sal hadn’t been too upset at Zoe’s passing. After all, he’d already mourned her twice. That didn’t mean he wanted her to die. I saw the conflict in his face. Zoe needed to go and both of us knew it. Still, she was his daughter’s mother, even if she’d been a bad one. One day, we would have to explain to Mia how we’d let her mother kill herself. She’d probably hate us both for it.
In the meantime, she’d be the happiest kid in Paint Rock. Sal had already called half the pack to tell them about Mia. Nina offered him Leo’s playpen until we could get to the store and buy a proper crib. She’d also promptly bullied her way into organizing a welcome home party for Mia. I didn’t tell her or Sal, but it was good to hear some excitement in her voice after losing Chanter. Sal was going to be a great dad, even if he had probably gotten in a little over his head. I was going to wait a few days before I told him how hard potty training was going to be on him. The poor guy deserved some peace.
Hunter groaned and rolled his eyes. “Get a room, you two.”
“Already did,” Sal answered, beaming.
Hunter made a gagging sound.
“You know, there're a couple things I don’t get,” Sal said after he’d finished laughing and a few beats of silence passed. “Cynthia. She was trying to kill Marcus. You said you thought she was working for that faerie asshole who showed up at Aisling when you were done dealing with Crux. But what’s he got against Marcus?”
“Beats me,” I said, shrugging. “All I know is that Marcus has something he wants. And Seamus is bad news. Seriously bad news. I’m sure he’s one of the faeries who gets a name in Irish myth. A name and a pointy hat to go with it.”
“Faerie king. Jesus, Judah. You know how to make enemies, don’t you?”
“Go big or go home.”
“So you think we’ll be seeing him again? Seamus, I mean.”
I nodded and sat up. “He clearly didn’t get what he wanted from Marcus. From what I gather, he’s trying to pull a coup in Faerie. Overthrow his brother. To do it, he needs whatever Marcus has. So far, Marcus has refused to tell me what that thing is. You can bet he’ll be back but he’ll be more careful. If he sends more lackeys, they’ll be heavier hitters than Cynthia. He might even come do the dirty work himself.”
“That’s... a bad thing, right?” Hunter said looking at me.
“Depends,” I answered. “When it comes to the fae, I’d rather deal directly than play power games. Nobody here is a match for Seamus if I’m right about who he is. We’d have to go to Faerie for help. I don’t like the idea of that. Personally, I’d sooner see Marcus just hand over whatever it is Seamus needs. We don’t need more trouble, and I could use a day off.”
“Amen.” Sal struck the steering wheel. “And you need more than a day off. You need a vacation. Maybe a romantic weekend in the mountains. No interruptions.”
“You better check your expectations, mister.” I let myself smile. “You’re about to take on a toddler. Any expectations you had about free time, money, and privacy, you can kiss that goodbye.”
“Come on,” said Sal. “How bad can it be?”
~
Doc Ramis brought Chanter’s body out to Chanter’s place an hour or so before dusk, and Sal disappeared to prepare it. Hunter went with him. Valentino, Nina, and Shauna built up the pyre in Chanter’s backyard. Daphne, Leo, and Ed manned the picnic table looking out over the desert. I went to join them.
“Judah,” said Daphne in the form of a greeting and she rose to hug me. “It’s good to see you.”
“Good to see you smile, Daphne.” I gave Leo his high five and sat down next to Ed. “How’s the leg?”
He didn’t look up at me. “Still hurts.”
“You hear anything from Mara?”
Ed shook his head. I hadn’t expected anything different, but if I didn’t ask, he’d be even more upset. The poor guy was heartbroken over her disappearance and blamed me for it. He wasn’t entirely incorrect.
“You been working out, Ed?” I asked. “You look... different.”
Ed’s nose twitched. “I’m going to go help with the wood.” He got up to go help the others.
I watched him limp away and couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret.
“He’ll forgive you eventually,” Daphne said, sitting down next to me. “Werewolves are good at holding grudges.” She pulled Leo onto her lap and let him play with the beaded necklace she wore. “So, you and Sal.”
I smiled. Daphne and I launched into mundane talk, the kinds of things normal women talk about. We talked about our significant others and all the small things that irritated us about them. She told me about some coupons she had for baby stuff and said she’d bring them over the next day for me to use. Sal, she said, was a great guy but, like most men, he wouldn’t have a clue how to shop for little girls.
After a short conversation about the benefits of cloth diapers versus disposables, she asked the question I knew she really wanted to ask from the beginning. “So, what was it like? Being dead?”
I stared off into the desert, not reall
y focusing on anything. How could I sum up everything I’d experienced for her? “Time gets all funny,” I finally decided. “A minute here was like four days on the other side. There were other people there. People I miss.”
“Alex?” she asked. I nodded and Daphne wrapped her soft hands around mine. “You should talk about him. It keeps his memory alive.”
“I know. It’s just, that was a different place and time. I don’t want to make Hunter sad about it. I don’t want Sal to think I’m drawing any comparisons. I love Sal, but I also still love Alex.”
“And so you hold back. You don’t mean to, but I know you do.” She smiled until dimples appeared in her cheeks. “Love and relationships only work when we make ourselves vulnerable. Anyone worth loving is worth loving all the way, Judah. You know, if you ever need to talk, I’m here. Free of charge.”
I patted her hand. “You know, maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.”
~
Sal, Valentino, Nina, and Hunter bore Chanter out on a litter constructed of wood and a knotted blanket I’d seen on Chanter’s bed. He was wrapped in a burial shroud of gauze. We stood silently as they lowered Chanter onto the pyre of wood and piled around him his most cherished belongings. Feather fans, gourds, an old guitar, a carved wooden box full of powders and tinctures.
The funeral dirge Sal sang for Chanter was the most beautiful song I had ever heard, even if I didn’t know the language being spoken. While he sang, everyone who had come stood in a line to pay their respects. Each person, on reaching the front of the line, placed with Chanter’s body a small token. It was tradition, Sal had told me.
I asked what I should select. Sal only shrugged and said I would know it when I saw it. I had spent hours sorting through the things the pack had boxed up in my house, trying to think of what I might leave that would be appropriate. Just like Sal said, I knew it when I saw it.
When I reached the front of the line, I took a simple gold ring from my pocket and placed it with the other trinkets. I didn’t know if the ring itself would have meant anything to Chanter, but he’d often said that funerals are not for the dead. They are healing for the living. There was no greater scar on my life than the loss of my husband, Alex. Chanter had brought his spirit back to me once in a way, and again, stood beside me as I finally faced the memory of his death. He had guided me through my own grief. It was time for me to say goodbye, and I couldn’t do that without that symbolic gesture.
The procession finished, and the rest of us spread into a sparse semi-circle while Sal lit the pyre. His song finished, he turned and put his back to the flames, facing us. “Today, we grieve Chanter’s loss. Nothing can fill the void he left. I won’t try. I will not be Chanter. I am not as wise or as strong, and I don’t have his patience. I can’t promise you that. What I will promise you is my loyalty, my dedication, first and foremost, to this pack. I will protect this pack and all that is ours. I claim leadership of this pack. Let any who wish to issue a challenge speak now.”
No one spoke. The fire cracked and popped behind Sal and the wind whispered through it. The subtle nuance of magick worked its way through those of us gathered. I couldn’t identify the purpose or source but, as it passed through the ranks of werewolves, each one stood up straighter.
“My first act as your alpha will be to formally induct a new member into our pack,” Sal said. “Hunter Zachary Black, come forward.”
Hunter stepped out of the line to go and sit on his knees in front of Sal.
“Meet my eyes.”
Hunter lifted his chin and met Sal’s gaze.
“Will you join yourself in body, mind, and spirit to this pack?”
Hunter’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes, I will.”
“Will you bind your wolf in body, mind, and spirit to this pack?”
“Yes, I will.”
Sal lifted his eyes from Hunter to scan the crowd. “And you who are gathered, will you do the same? Binding yourselves and your wolves in body, mind, and spirit with that of Hunter Zachary Black?”
In unison, the rest of the pack answered, “Yes, we will.”
From his belt, Sal took a silver pocketknife and flipped it open. He made a generous slice in his hand and then asked Hunter to do the same.
“Then from this day forward, you will be ours,” Sal said once Hunter handed the knife back. He held his bloody hand out to Hunter who took it. “Our successes will be yours and yours ours. Our failures yours and yours ours.”
“We welcome you,” said the pack in unison.
A crackling power shot through the air. Only big and powerful magick was audible like that, and the Silvermoon pack had just worked a doozy of a binding spell. When the power swept past me, I staggered a little. At the end of the line, Ed winced and let out a small hiss of pain. When it hit Hunter, he cried out and fell over, doubled up, and held his chest. Sal bent down and put a hand on his back, speaking something quiet and reassuring until Hunter breathed through it.
After a moment, Shauna broke from the line, threw her head up to the sky and let out a loud howl. Valentino followed suit, and soon, the whole pack was yipping and howling all the way down to Leo. Half of them had their clothes stripped off before Hunter could move from his prone position on the ground.
My son swayed back and forth a little until Sal helped him up. “You ready, kid?” Sal said, smiling. He opened his hand and showed Hunter he’d pulled the silver out of his ear.
Hunter nodded and stripped off his shirt.
He did not change quickly the first time. When Hunter began, it was barely dusk. The bones cracked and settled at an achingly slow pace. He cried out only when his face started to change and the rest of the pack, all of whom had already shifted save for Sal, howled long and loud, covering the sound of his pain and anguish with what I could only guess were cries of encouragement. It was full dark when he was finished.
Hunter stood up and shook blood from his beautiful, white fur. Ed, who was a skinny, black wolf now, was the first to wander up and sniff him. Even though Ed was eight years older than Hunter, Hunter was the bigger wolf. Hunter let out a small growl when Ed approached and Ed gladly dropped onto his back and rolled around. Valentino yawned and trotted up to bump his shoulder against Hunter and sneezed, unimpressed.
Sal took off his shirt and paced over to me. “Keep an eye on Leo and Mia?” he said.
“You know you don’t have to ask.” I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Could you guys bring home something other than a rabbit this time? A deer would be nice.”
“You don’t ask for much, do you?” He grunted and took off his jeans, handing them to me. “Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone,” he ordered and shifted into his gray wolf.
Sal ran to the front of the pack at full speed and then circled, waiting, while the rest of them caught up. Ed brought up the rear. In mere minutes, all of them were up and over the closest ridge. A distant howl pierced the night, and I knew I wouldn’t see them again until daybreak.
For a long while, I sat with Leo and Mia watching the fire. Leo fell asleep in the playpen and Mia drifted off to sleep in my arms. I considered closing my eyes myself, but something made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I sat forward, shifting Mia and scanning the yard around me for danger.
“I warned you, did I not?”
My head snapped to the side to regard a tall, mustached man with ashen skin, golden eyes, and a mullet of silver hair. Instead of the polished armor he’d worn the last time I saw him, Seamus wore a long, green tunic with gold designs intricately woven in, heavy brown pants and leather boots. A long and menacing blade hung at his hip.
“I told you that if you continued to meddle in my affairs, you and I would become enemies.”
“Technically, I was meddling in Marcus’ affairs,” I said and clutched Mia tighter. I started drawing in my will, preparing to defend myself. Even at my best, I couldn’t hope to win a fight with Seamus. I was far from my best. Still, I had to try. I couldn’t let anyth
ing happen to the children.
“Still your magick, mortal. I come to you this day as you bury your honored dead. It is in honor of his sacrifice and the declared neutral ground he maintained that I stay my hand.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t let go of the energy. “How considerate of you.”
“I come with an offer.” Seamus crossed his arms and turned his head to stare directly at me. “Pledge yourself to me. Promise to serve me and mine as my agent, and I will reward you with any desire in my power to grant.”
Taking anything from the fae is dangerous. Even the good ones had a penchant for twisting words and making you regret any deals you made with them. A big, scary, bad guy like Seamus could do a hell of a lot worse. He could also make me miserable if I declined.
“No, thanks,” I answered politely.
“Think carefully, mortal. You owe the vampire no loyalty.”
“I don’t owe you any either, Finvarra.”
His eyes blazed brighter gold at the name. “That is a name I have not heard spoken in many eons, not since my brother retreated from this realm and banished me from his court.”
“But it is your name, isn’t it?”
Seamus narrowed his eyes at me. “Speak it with caution. That name does not belong to you.” He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. When he opened them again, they’d regained their paler gold. “I would have your answer. Do you decline my offer a second time?”
“I do,” I said. “I like being a free agent and I don’t want to play politics with vampires or fae.”
“And yet you will. That is if you live long enough.”
“What is it you want from Marcus? What’s he got on you?”