Asher

by T. S. Joyce

  Roman stood and started shadow boxing Ghost Dad, who stood there staring at the bushes, looking bored.

  “Leave the ghost alone,” Asher said.

  “Or what?” Roman asked. “I’m boxing with my old man. It’s quality father-son time, like when we were kids. Oh wait, we didn’t get that because he was an ass-face.”

  “To protect Asher,” Gentry said. He frowned when Roman kicked Dad in the ghost dick. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me? We’re standing around having brother time instead of hunting the mother fuckers who are hunting us.”

  “Asher,” Gentry gently reminded him. “They’re hunting Asher.”

  “Psychodine saw it. We’ll be bloody in the snow next to his corpse. Mila’s going to miss you,” Roman said to Asher through a grin. His voice dripped with sarcasm when he said, “She likes your sense of humor.”

  “Fuck you,” Asher muttered.

  “Maybe we’ll dump your ashes in the woods like you did to Dad,” Roman called as Asher made his way back down the trail they’d walked. “What do you want to eat for your last meal? Say ‘pussy.’ It’ll be funny.”

  Gentry snorted behind him, but Asher ignored them both and barely resisted the urge to snap his fingers and draw in all the ghosts within a one mile radius to rush Roman and scare the shit out of him. Asher did have a sense of humor—it was just an evil one.

  “Where are we going?” Gentry called.

  “You asked me what our play was.”

  “And?”

  “We need to find their den and flush those mother fuckers out.”

  “And then what?” Gentry asked.

  Asher clenched his fists and ducked a low-hanging branch. He had two days until he’d promised Ashlyn this would be over. He’d never broken an oath, and he’d be damned if he started with his mate. “And then we go to war.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Okay, if the Bone-Rippers hate humans, can you two explain to me again why I have to be at this meeting?” Ashlyn asked in an octave above what she’d intended. “And why on God’s green and blue planet would any organization call themselves the Bone-Rippers? That’s terrifying.”

  “Rhett, the last alpha, came up with the name,” Mila explained from where she was setting a massive plate of grilled cheeses on the bar top of Winter’s Edge.

  “And what happened to him again?”

  “I killed him,” Mila said with a flat smile.

  The sweet, soft-spoken, submissive little brunette turned and bustled back into the kitchen, leaving Ashlyn to stare after her. “Oh. She killed him.”

  Blaire was staring at her with a crease of worry between her eyebrows. “I know this is a lot, Ashlyn, but you’re a part of this now. Mila is nervous, and she’s about to try and bring a broken wolf pack under her. She’s submissive, and it’s a scary thing for her to do. This isn’t something she ever planned or wanted.”

  “Not at all,” Mila murmured as she returned from the kitchen with two giant serving trays of crinkle cut french fries. “I would rather cut off both my pinky toes than do what I’m about to do, but if it protects Asher…” She inhaled deeply, lifting her chest and shoulders with it, then exhaled. “Then I’ll do this alpha gig. And you’re here because A, we are under strict orders from the Dark Wolf to not let you out of our sight, and he scares me, and B, if I’m gonna be alpha, I’m doing things way different than Rhett did. And that includes being closer to humans. He separated us and made it hard for us to fit in with the human world. That shit’s a-changin’ today.”

  “And you’re using me to change said shit?” Ashlyn guessed.

  Mila handed her a warm grilled cheese sandwich and smiled brightly. “Yep. You’re with Asher. No point in hiding it, right? The boys’ father hid his marriage to Odine for a long time, and he was really careful, but they still got caught. I figure if you two just come out now as a couple, people will be shocked at first, but settle eventually, especially if I’m alpha and can order them to get the fuck over it. I think it’s about time someone re-wrote the rules.”

  Hmm. Ashlyn liked Mila even more now.

  The door of Winter’s Edge swung open, and in walked seven men and women of varying heights and ages, led by an older gentleman with bushy gray eyebrows and green eyes that were sharp and seemed to miss nothing as he scanned the bar.

  “I am the big bad wolf,” Mila whispered to herself as she watched the others approach.

  The Bone-Rippers were looking around the bar, murmuring low amongst themselves, moving too damn gracefully. Ashlyn would look like a bumbling rhino next to any of them. Some of them had strange eye colors and one, a man about her age, had his lip snarled up. He was probably growling, but she couldn’t hear him from where she stood behind the bar with Blaire and Mila. She was getting more than a few dirty looks, though, so she held up a pad of paper and whispered to Blaire, “I’m just going to be over here, coming up with better pack names.”

  “She knows?” the older gentleman asked, fury transforming his features until his face was twisted up like a predator.

  “Eeee,” Ashlyn muttered, sidestepping back toward Blaire again. “If they attack me, bite the shit out of them okay?”

  Blaire snorted and said, “I’ve got you.”

  Now, Ashlyn was a stress-eater, and had been ever since she was a kid, so she shoved a good third of that grilled cheese into her mouth and began rapidly chewing. She probably looked like a squirrel right now, but hang it. The Bone-Rippers were scary as hell.

  “What’s this meeting about?” the older man said. He must’ve been some kind of leader because the others had grown silent and watchful as they’d lined up behind the bar top on the other side.

  “I killed Rhett,” Mila said in a surprisingly strong voice. “He’s gone because of me, and I’m claiming the throne.”

  The man arched one bushy brow up high. “Mmm, no.”

  “What? Tim, alpha is mine by right. I want to do the binding ceremony today. Right now.”

  “But you took too long to claim it, Mila. Someone else got to your throne first. The crown isn’t up for grabs anymore.”

  “Who claimed it? You?”

  Tim shook his head slowly, and now some of the others smiled, but not friendly expressions. It was more a show of teeth. Sharp teeth. There was so much tension in the room it was hard to breathe, and no one was speaking.

  They were all having some staring contest Ashlyn didn’t understand, so to break the silence, she laughed nervously and announced, “I’ve come up with some new pack name ideas.” Everyone turned to look at her. “I mean, let’s face it. Bone-Rippers isn’t a good name from a PR standpoint. I was thinking…” She read the names she’d come up with on the fly off the notepad. “Glitter dogs?” Nobody moved, and nobody spoke. “Right.” She marked that one off with a flourish of her pen. “Love Nuggets, Sexy Unicorns, or oh! Here’s my favorite…The Pupcakes. Get it? It’s like cupcakes…but…” The air was filled with the snarling of werewolves, so she pursed her lips and silenced herself. At least Blaire snorted a tiny giggle. She cut off the sound almost immediately, but it counted.

  “If you aren’t alpha, then who is?” Mila gritted out to Tim.

  A lady with fluffed-up gray hair gave a shrill whistle that made Blaire and Mila hunch their shoulders and cover their ears. The door to Winter’s edge flung open and crashed against the wall, and the biggest man she’d ever laid eyes on ducked under the doorframe. He was roughly the size of a house, pushing seven-foot tall. He had tattoos down both arms and up his neck, and his black hair was fashioned into a laid-down mohawk.

  “Slade,” Mila said in a frightened tone that made Ashlyn look at her in confusion. Mila’s face had gone white as a sheet, and she was backing up step after slow step, her eyes wide and locked on the giant.

  Behind the man trailed another giant, and another, and then a tall, lanky woman who walked hunched over, attention twitching this way and that, her eyes blazing an inhuman shade of
fiery gold. All their faces were twisted into something fearsome, like they were midway through a Change into their wolves already. And now Ashlyn really couldn’t breathe.

  “Slade is our alpha now, Mila,” Tim said in a snarl.

  Slade’s predatory eyes were locked on Ashlyn, and all she wanted to do was duck behind the counter and wish this all away. He was that terrifying. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

  “You’re the other alpha’s bitch,” the man said in a deep, rumbling voice.

  Ashlyn shook her head and stammered. “A-alpha?”

  The man was still stalking forward, coming closer. Move, feet! He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes to thin slits. “Asher Striker, alpha of the Wolves of Winter’s Edge. This is my town now. I want his territory, I want his pack, and you’ll get them for me.”

  Blaire slipped her hand around Ashlyn’s and raised her voice. “Asher’s not alpha. He’s rogue. We all are.”

  “Bullshit. I was there the night you came to the arena, White Wolf. I felt the bond. Practically saw it. Asher’s a right proper monster. He has powers, right? I saw him do things no man or wolf should be able to do.” He turned his dead gaze on Ashlyn. “Nah, human bitch. He’s alpha, and you’re his mate. We’ve done our research. Your job is simple. Easy. Painless. I just need you to bring him to me.”

  Painless? Betraying Asher would rip her heart out. “Fuck you.”

  “Maybe after your mate’s dead.” Slade tipped his head to the side and dragged a hungry gaze to her chest, then back to her eyes. “I don’t usually like leftovers, but I already know you can bed a monster. And I have a big”—he inhaled, his nostrils flaring slightly with the breath as he seemed to search for the right word—“appetite.”

  “Ashlyn, run.” Blaire had said it so softly Ashlyn thought she’d imagined it. Right up until Blaire turned to her and squeezed her hand so hard Ashlyn yelped. Blaire’s eyes were blazing such a vivid green they were hard to look at. Louder, she demanded, “Run now.” She shoved her toward the kitchen door, and before Ashlyn could even get her legs moving, Blaire fell to the floor with a snarl in her chest, and the massive snow-white wolf ripped from her body. Already Mila was Changed into a mottled gray wolf and leaping through the air at Slade. Shit, shit, shit.

  Ashlyn hit the door hard and sprinted through the kitchen, but she could hear someone following right behind her. Could feel their closeness. Could almost feel their breath on her neck. She whimpered and skidded around one of the stainless-steel counters as she struggled the big skull pocket knife Asher had given her out of her pocket. The gold-eyed woman was right on her, but she slid farther than her and gave Ashlyn those precious seconds to shove the back door open.

  Her mind racing a million miles a minute, Ashlyn flipped the blade out. She didn’t have much time, because the woman was so fast. Could Asher read her mind from this far? Where was he? Don’t come back here.

  Everything was settling into place. Asher was alpha? It wasn’t alpha of the Bone-Rippers like they’d thought. He was unknowingly alpha of the damn Wolves of Winter’s Edge. And these empty-eyed werewolves were going to use her to draw him back here, where he was supposed to die. No, no, no.

  She pushed her legs as hard as she could, but her boots were sinking deep into the un-marred snow.

  “Asher, don’t come back here!” she screamed as the woman grabbed her hair and yanked her backward.

  The second Ashlyn was spun around, she slammed the blade into her shoulder. The woman howled in pain, and her eyes flashed with fury in the second before her fist smashed into Ashlyn’s face. The shock of the pain brought her to her knees in the snow.

  So dizzy. She didn’t want to open her eyes, but the woman was dragging her now by the hair, and all Ashlyn could do was hold onto her wrists to give her scalp some relief. Red was dripping onto her pink sweater. Red polka dots from her bleeding nose. It must’ve been broken, it hurt so badly. The woods around her were spinning slowly. “Don’t come back here,” she pleaded in a whisper, concentrating on the thought as hard as she could.

  “Brayah, do you have her?” a voice called.

  “Got her,” the woman snarled, yanking a struggling Ashlyn up to her feet and bullying her to move faster.

  Around the corner of the building, some of the Bone-Rippers had gathered outside. A couple of gray wolves slunk along the edge of the tree line, and from a trail that led to the inn strode two more men.

  “Are they at the inn?” Slade asked.

  One of the men shook his head. “The place is totally empty.”

  “Fuck!” Slade looked like shit. His shoulder was bleeding badly, and there were claw marks all over his face and neck. She would’ve been proud of Blaire and Mila, but they weren’t out here, and all she felt right now was worry over their safety. As it stood, there was an enormous racket inside, glass breaking, furniture hitting the walls, but Mila and Blaire weren’t where Ashlyn could see them. All she could hope was they were still inside fighting, not lying stiff in a corner while the Bone-Rippers trashed Winter’s Edge.

  Don’t come for me.

  “What do you want to do?” Brayah asked, jerking Ashlyn to a stop near Slade, digging an unforgiving grip deep into Ashlyn’s neck, like she wanted to snap it. She probably could with little effort. “If he has too much warning, Asher could disappear on us.”

  “Nah, not without his mate,” Tim said from where he was nursing a gaping cut across his cheekbone. “The Strikers bond hard. As long as you have his human, he’ll come.”

  “Good,” Slade said, flinging blood off his fingertips into the snow. Red on white. Ashlyn wanted to retch. “Then we’ll take her out into the woods and make her scream. Brayah,” Slade said, gesturing to her like ladies first. “Lead the way.”

  “With pleasure, Alpha,” Brayah said in a dead voice that matched her vacant eyes. Something was seriously wrong with her.

  The Bone-Rippers were Changing. More and more wolves trotted alongside of them through the trees. Gray ones and dark brown ones, and one was even black. Not demon-black like Asher’s monster wolf, but a patchy black with chocolate brown points and a gray muzzle.

  Don’t come back.

  A whimper crawled up her throat as Brayah gripped the back of her neck and forced her to move forward faster. Her nails dug into Ashlyn’s skin and made her hunch her shoulders against the stinging pain. She had to get out of this, had to escape somehow. Desperately, she looked around for something, anything to use as a weapon, but even if she could bend down to pick one up with Brayah’s hand gripping her neck, there were now seven wolves surrounding her and closing in, eyes intent on her, hungry, as they snapped their razor-sharp teeth and snarled at her.

  Pack of monsters. The Strikers were the good ones. They would never look at a human like this. They would never hunt and hurt one. These wolves were bad. They wanted to hurt her, to kill her, to bleed her. She could tell by the rising excitement in their eyes and the pitch of their yipping. Two began to howl, as though she was their prey.

  Don’t come back. Please, Asher, don’t come back to Winter’s Edge.

  Two of the gray-colored wolves broke out in a fight near her, brawling and ripping each other to shreds. The sound of the growling and the violence scared her, and her emotions suddenly overwhelmed her. She huffed a fear-filled breath that froze in front of her face. It was so cold out here, even the tears that streamed down her cheeks were only warm for a moment before they froze. Her jacket was back in Winter’s edge, and now she couldn’t stop shivering from both the cold and adrenaline.

  They were going to hurt her. She knew it with certainty. Was this the place she was going to meet her end? With these strangers in the cold, haunted woods of Rangeley? Torn to little pieces by creatures she hadn’t even known existed until a few days ago?

  And all for what? So they could hurt the man she loved? So they could get to her mate?

  She hated them. Hated their emptiness, hated their hatred. If she had The Taker in her, she wou
ld devour every last one of them right now and not feel an ounce of guilt.

  Up in the sky, the clouds began to darken by the moment, roiling slowly like they were forming a twister. And she could feel him. It was as if her soul recognized its counterpart was near.

  Asher was here.

  The Taker was here.

  Odine had been right.

  A long, low howl lifted the fine hairs on her body. The reaction of the wolves around her was instant. The snarling stopped, and all their attention went to the east in the direction of the battle cry. A second howl joined the first, rising in haunting notes and then lowering back down again. Two wolves. Just two. Maybe it was just Gentry and Roman, and they’d left Asher somewhere safe. That was just wishful thinking, though. It wasn’t logic. The clouds were dark and menacing, and it looked like evening instead of ten in the morning.

  “He’s here,” Slade said from behind them as Brayah jerked Ashlyn to a stop. Her neck trickled warmth where the woman’s nails dug in, but she couldn’t worry about that right now.

  The prophesy was coming true. From the day of his birth, Asher had been building to this moment. To the moment of his death.

  A storm wall formed in the east. Snow and dark blue fog blotted out the landscape, but two figures appeared out of the chaos. A charcoal gray wolf with bright green eyes and a light gray wolf with a golden gaze trotted toward them, heads down, hatred in their eyes. And behind them followed Asher, human, hands out, dressed in dark jeans and the black sweater. His arms bulged with tension as he lifted his palms, and all around him, the fog whipped like a hurricane wind, reaching from his body and absorbing back into him in a constant chaotic cadence. It stretched as far as she could see, and as he passed, the trees around him splintered, dried, fell, and turned to ashes.

  Asher was feeding in preparation to bring hell to the wolves here.

  His eyes were a smoldering silver, like mercury in his face. Ashlyn had never seen fury on a man’s face like this.