by T. S. Ryder
Philip stayed by the car. When Mary asked why he wasn't coming, Amy told her that this was women's business. Men weren't permitted to know the secrets.
The tombs were not what Mary had been expecting. Instead of cramped, damp, smelly caves, it was more like a temple. Built from white granite, the cathedral-shaped building was a good three stories high and covered an area of at least a thousand feet squared. Dense cedars grew in a ring around it, so Mary couldn't see it until she stepped through the low-sweeping branches.
Once inside, the tombs were dark until Amy turned on the electric lights. The walls were made from the same white granite, covered in small shelves that housed urns of various shape and color. Mary supposed that these were the remains of the dead, but she didn't ask. There was something about this place that forbade speaking. She followed Amy silently along a dusty blue carpet.
Eventually, Amy stopped in front of a hole just big enough for her hand to fit into. She reached into it, and after patting around a little, withdrew two mushrooms. Silently she handed one to Mary. The two then separated, going through different unmarked doors.
The room was empty. Mary turned the mushroom over in her hand. It was plain white, the same as any mushroom she had ever seen before. She hesitated, sniffing it. It smelled like nothing.
What if this was some sort of trick? Did Amy have a reason to want her dead? A hand drifted to her stomach and she closed her eyes. She imagined a little baby with her green eyes and Andre's tanned skin. Her mind was made up. She needed to do this.
With her eyes still closed, she popped the mushroom into her mouth. It had a bitter taste to it and she made a face as she chewed and swallowed.
Then she waited.
She didn't wait for long. A scuffling noise came from behind her and she turned. Her heart jumped to her throat and she backed away. A giant wolf stood snarling at her. Its ragged black fur stood up on its back and green eyes stared at her, as though ready to tear out her throat.
But even though Mary trembled and glanced around for a weapon, she couldn't deny that the Wolf was beautiful and fascinating. She balked at the idea of hurting it.
The Wolf snarled again.
"Hello," Mary whispered. "I think you're me."
The snarls abruptly stopped. It cocked its head and Mary cautiously took a step forward. She stretched out her hand. There was a deep longing in her chest.
"You're my Wolf. We're meant to--"
The Wolf howled and leaped at her.
***
Ibeth smiled as she led Andre through gray cinderblock halls, lit by flickering lights. He remained tense, uncertain of what he was meant to be doing. She had been very polite to him on the ride here, asking questions he didn't answer. He was distracted by thoughts of Mary.
Was Peter really worth this? Was he worth leaving Mary behind to deal with the same siblings that had driven her crazy before? Was she okay? What was she doing right now? Should he abandoned his quest, no matter how close he was, and return to her? What would happen during the full moon if he wasn't there?
"Here he is." Ibeth opened a door, gesturing Andre in.
The room was a stark white, broken only by the shadow cast by a narrow cot. Peter, dressed in the same black hoodie and blue jeans Andre had last seen him in, jumped to his feet as the Bears entered. There were faded bruises on his face, but nothing too bad. His skin paled at the sight of Andre and his hands clenched.
"So that's how it is?" he spat. "You're here to kill me now?"
"No," Ibeth said. "He's a prisoner, just like you."
Andre whirled on her, but she was already out the door. She smirked. "Did you think I would believe that lie about you wanting to kill him?"
"No, but I hoped."
"Oh, Andre… everything I've heard about you made you sound so smart. And yet… this? Sloppy."
Andre shrugged. "More like desperate."
"You don't strike me as a traitor. And yet, here you are. Trying to bring the Locke family's leader back to them so they can attack us."
"The Locks have no intention of attacking."
"That's not what he told us." Ibeth nodded at Peter. "Why don't you two talk and get your stories straight? We will find out where the Locke Wolves are hiding eventually, I assure you."
She shut the door with a snap.
Andre snarled under his breath, but he had been half expecting this. If he wanted to change his mind, he should have done so the moment Ibeth showed up. Given everything he had done, why would they believe what he said? Unfortunately, he hadn't thought passed making sure Peter was alive.
He turned to the Wolf, glaring at him. "So you were going to start an all-out war against the Bears, were you?"
Peter sat down on the narrow cot and shrugged though he didn’t meet Andre's eyes. "Why shouldn't I?"
"If that was your plan, you wouldn't have turned yourself over to them."
"Unless I was trying to find out where their base was. Maybe I knew that you'd come back for me once you found Mary." Peter's head jerked up and worry shone in his eyes. "You did find her, didn't you?"
Andre sighed. His Bear grumbled at him though the usual bloodlust he felt when he saw Peter wasn't present. Odd. Perhaps his Bear was coming to understand his reasons for not killing him.
We might be being watched. Why else would Ibeth put us together like this, unless it was so that we would tell them something while we are speaking to one another?
"Is my family—"
"They're fine. I'm not in the mood for small talk." Andre let a growl into his voice. "So you'd better be quiet or I really will kill you."
Peter, wisely, went silent.
Mary. Andre sat on the floor, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against the wall. I will return. I promise. Somehow I will get out of here and find my way back to you.
Chapter Fourty Two
The Wolf stumbled as it turned, falling to its knees. Mary panted, leaning against the wall. She didn't know how long she had been here. Scratches on her arms and neck showed where she had failed to dodge the wolf's attack. It was slow and weak. She had been able to fight it off thus far, but for how long?
The growling was unceasing, its body tense and quivering. Mary jumped to one side as it charged her again, driving her fist into its ribs when its jaws came for her.
The Wolf yelped and a jolting feeling rippled through Mary's own ribs. Tears pricked her eyes. This was her Wolf, they were meant to come together! Not fight like this!
"Enough," she gasped out, kicking the Wolf away as it charged once more. "I'm sorry!"
The growling stopped.
Mary backed away warily, watching it. Both of them trembled on the verge of another attack. Did she dare do this? Or would it kill her if she surrendered? Slowly, Mary knelt so she was eye-level with the Wolf.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry that you were locked away. I'm sorry."
The Wolf took a step forward and two steps back.
"It happened to me, too. The pain." A shudder ran down her spine as she remembered the agony. It was clearer now than ever before. "The darkness." It was a black pit, full of despair. And no matter how hard she fought she couldn't get out. "The fear." She thought she was going to die. She knew she would never see Andre again. "But it's over."
The Wolf inched forward again.
Tears pooled in Mary's eyes. She reached out her arms. "It's over. You and I are the same. You know that, don't you? You're my soul."
Even as she spoke, she knew it was true. It was her Wolf that had called for Andre all those times, it was her Wolf that cried in pain at the thought of parting from him. Her Wolf was her soul and without it she was nothing. It was close enough to touch now and she gently brushed her fingers through the ragged fur along its shoulders.
"I need you."
The Wolf closed its eyes and leaned forward. Its forehead touched to hers and suddenly she remembered. Everything.
The births of her sibling
s, the slow addition of responsibility until her life ground to a halt. How she was stuck in housework and caring for them while her mother laid in bed telling her she was fat, lazy, and did everything wrong. How her father punishing her for being ten minutes late coming home from town, him telling her that she had no use for more education when she begged to be allowed back in school when she was fifteen. How feeling like her life was going to end before it even started. How she ran away from home, away from the siblings she loved but needed to be free from.
And Andre. She remembered the first time she saw him smile, heard the first time he laughed, their first kiss–the moment she knew he was her soulmate. His tears when he trusted her with the story of his wife and daughter. She closed her eyes and relived every glorious second when she was in his arms.
A whimper distracted her from her memories. She opened her eyes expecting to see her Wolf, but it was gone.
No, not gone. A howl of joy echoed in her chest. Back where it belonged.
Another whimper. Mary cast her gaze around. She gasped when it landed on a small creature in the corner of the room. It was a wolf pup, brownish-black, the color of Andre's fur. It stumbled on its short stubby legs, inching towards her. Its small tail was wagging.
Mary's breath locked in her chest. Her Wolf made a contented noise, coaxing the pup closer. It did so, but suddenly it changed. The body grew, the short legs becoming longer, the pointed ears rounding out. The Wolf pup became a Bear cub as it reached her and put its head in her lap.
"Baby," she whispered, reaching for it. But as she touched the soft fur, it slipped away like a dream and was gone.
Her Wolf made a thrumming noise and Mary knew the baby would be back. It just wasn't ready to stay yet. But it would be back.
***
Andre stared at the blank wall, trying to ignore the sounds of Peter breathing.
The longer he was in here with nothing to do but try to think of a way to escape, the more he realized this was the most stupid idea he had ever had. What did he owe those Wolves? Nothing! He had saved all their lives from Easton, so what did it matter what happened to them now? He had had Mary back in his arms and then he had walked away from her!
We would have figured out what to do with the full moon. We could get a place far away from humans and we could run together like we did before. Eventually, she would have gotten her memories back.
And if she never had, that would be fine. They would create new memories. Something he couldn't do here stuck in this prison.
The door opened and Ibeth entered, along with another Bear that had the look of a black bear about him. He was small and round, with small watery eyes. Ibeth's lips pressed tight together as she stared at Andre, a peculiar, frustrated expression on her face. She folded her arms.
"We have not heard from Grant Easton for several days now. The last we heard, he was looking for you." Ibeth folded her arms. "Where is he?"
Andre thought of the last time he had seen Easton–in a grave. He adopted a careless expression and shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"
Ibeth's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it would jog your memory if I told you that he had been reprimanded for his actions when it came to his treatment of Mary Locke?"
"Sorry. He stopped by my place, gave me the card that led me here and took off again. I believe he was going after Wolves." Andre paused, then layered his voice with heavy sarcasm. "Perhaps he was going to head off their all-out war on other Shifters and got himself killed."
"You don't believe that the Wolves are going to attack."
"Of course not. Otherwise he would have told me that, back when he was trying to get me to tell him where their community was. He would have done that, rather than manipulating Mary into returning so he could follow her there. He made it up as an excuse for you to go in and kill them."
"We have the community under surveillance, we'll know if any of your Wolves return there."
"So?"
Ibeth's expression remained hard and blank. "Are you going to tell me what happened with him or not?"
Andre stared back, pressing his lips together tightly.
"Very well." Ibeth nodded to her companion.
He strode into the room. Andre shifted to the balls of his feet, ready to embrace his Bear, but the little Bear went to Peter–and sunk a fist into his stomach.
Andre's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
Peter's face went white and he sucked in a noisy breath. The little Bear pulled his fist back again. Andre jumped forward, gripping the fist. He yanked the little Bear away from Peter and stood protectively in front of the Wolf.
"Easton is dead!" he roared.
Surprise rippled through him. Was he really defending Peter Locke? Putting himself directly in harm's way for the Wolf was not the same as trying to get him out of this prison, was it? He pushed away his own confusion and focused on Ibeth, while the little Bear returned to her side.
"Easton found Mary again. He attacked her and I defended her. I killed him. But he was not after justice, he was after revenge. Paul Locke killed his family and I don't blame him for wanting revenge. God knows I let it nearly consume me in the past. But he was going to kill all of them even the children. He was going to kill Mary. I was defending my love."
Ibeth's expression grew troubled. She nodded briefly at the little Bear and he backed out of the room, glowering at Andre.
"What now?" Andre asked.
"I will bring your allegations to the others. What you say… is disturbing. We must authenticate your story. I will be back."
The door shut. Andre turned to Peter. The Wolf was white as a sheet, half-laying on the cot. His gaze didn't move from the Bear's face.
"Is it true? Easton's dead?"
"Shut up," Andre grunted, turning his back again.
***
Joy filled Mary's body, buoyant and warm. She slipped from her room, unsurprised to see Amy already waiting for her. The other woman looked exhausted but happy as she rubbed her belly fondly with a smile on her face.
"I remember," Mary whispered, not wanting to break the holiness of her experience. "You borrowed my pearl necklace when you married Peter. I was so happy… you made him happy, so I was happy."
Amy stared at her for a moment before a shy smile spread over her face. "Then you have your Wolf back?"
Mary touched her chest, where her Wolf was howling with triumph. She nodded. "Were you successful?"
"Yes. I'm going to have a strong little girl." Amy linked arms with her sister-in-law. "Let's find Philip and go back. Perhaps your Andre has brought Peter back by now and they're waiting for us."
Mary nodded. Thoughts of Andre had her nerves skittering again. What if something happened to him? He'll be back. He has to be back.
But before they reached the tomb doors, the doors opened. Mary's brow furrowed when Philip entered. His face was pale, his hands raised behind his head.
Her Wolf snarled a warning.
Three men stood behind Philip. One pointed a gun at him and the other pointed one at her and Amy. Outside the door, a dozen brown bears waited for them.
Chapter Fourty Three
"How long do they intend to keep us here?" Andre paced from one end of the cell to the other, scowling at the bare walls.
"I would ask if all Bears are as impatient as you, but judging from the others I've met, I think I have my answer." Peter sat unmoving on the bed.
Andre sent him the blackest glower he could muster. "Maybe if you didn't keep staring at me!"
Peter shrugged and didn't look away. His brow furrowed and he cocked his head to one side. "I just can't figure you out. Why would you come to… rescue me? I thought you would do what you felt morally compelled when taking my younger brothers and sisters away from the Bear attack. I thought that you'd just leave after that, to find Mary. So why come back?"
Dammit, that was not a question he wanted to answer! He tugged the elastic out of his bun, letting it fall, then ran his fingers through his greas
y, tangled hair.
They must have been in this room for a couple of days together and he couldn't remember when he last showered. The knee that Paul Locke had shot a few months back ached with his relentless pacing, but what else was there to do in this tiny cell?
"If you are telling the truth, that you want to build a new community of Wolves where you interact and share with the world rather than isolating yourself and attacking it… that's a worthwhile goal that I would like to see it come true. But you bunch have too many problems ingrained into your lifestyle. It's going to take more than a desire to change, to actually change."
"What? You want to help us?" Peter got to his feet, moving for the first time in hours it seemed. "Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Even after… what we did?"
Andre drew in a deep breath as his Bear growled at the reminder of how Peter had helped his father kill Isadore and Eve. A faint beat of guilt fluttered in his chest. But if Isadore was here, she would approve, wouldn't she? She was kind and forgiving, like Mary. Eve was too young to understand, but she had inherited her mother's compassion.
"I'm doing it for them just as much as I'm doing it for Mary. It's what she wanted. She wanted to save her sisters from the confines of your community. And if there is communication between you and other Shifters, then perhaps you won't kill more Bears."
Peter flinched. "Philip and I didn't know—"
"You told me. And I believe you when you say that." Andre studied the Wolf and sighed. "I'm not going to deny that there is a part of me that still wants to rip you to shreds. But I believe that you thought they were just animals. I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse."
"I know nothing I say can—"
"No. There's nothing you can say. But perhaps there is a way to prevent such a thing from happening to others."
Peter sighed heavily. "Perhaps there is."
"And the fact is that Shifters around the world are slowly dying out. Fewer and fewer children are being born with the ability," Andre repeated the words that had been told to him by Zoe. She had been so excited to build relationships with the Wolves before Paul Locke murdered her. "And yet you Wolves are going strong. If—"