Cade (Society Book 2)

by Mason Sabre

  Cade clutched the soft body of a rabbit in his hand and made his way up to the back room. He stopped at the door before opening it, not because he was afraid, but because he wasn’t stupid. If the boy was in wolf form, he could very well try and attack Cade the moment he opened the door, perceiving him as some kind of threat. Cade did not revel in the idea of hurting the child in any kind of act of defence. He listened for where the boy might be in the room. The door had stopped rattling, and his senses told him that the boy was across the room. Opening the door slowly, he was blinded momentarily by the sunlight that streamed in through the curtainless window. His eyes searched for the boy, eventually finding him curled by the bottom of the bed on the floor. He was curled up like a small, quivering child, shudders wracking his young frame as sweat ran down his face. Was he going to survive this?

  The rabbit in Cade’s hand squirmed and fought against his grip, fought for freedom that it wasn’t going to get. Cade clenched his hand tighter around the animal, just enough so that it went still and stopped fighting. The boy had to be the one to kill it. He had to learn their ways if he was to integrate into this new way of life. Cade and Stephen had agreed on that.

  He pushed the bedroom door shut with his booted foot but kept his sights on the boy’s weak form. He was careful to keep his movement slow as he advanced on the boy. He didn’t want to startle him or cause him to attack. The boy looked up at Cade, his eyes wide, but it was the wolf, not the boy, who was looking out at him. His eyes were bright blue, almost white from their glow. Cade had never seen wolf eyes like that before. They were almost hypnotic. The boy’s teeth had come down, too, canines poking down over the boy’s bottom lip. Cade could see a droplet of blood where his tooth had pierced skin—a reminder that this was an inexperienced shifter. His breathing was harsh, too, a raspy growl in his throat.

  “You're okay,” Cade soothed as he crept closer. He lowered himself, kneeling in front of the boy. He did not want to put out an air of dominance over the boy right now. He offered the rabbit to him, but the boy shook his head. “You need to eat,” Cade urged. “It’s the only way we’re going to get through this.” He wasn’t sure the boy could really understand, or how much of his mind was conscious at that moment. Cade inched closer with the rabbit until he was holding it under the boy’s nose. Cade could tell when the scent caught the wolf because the boy’s hands flew up and grabbed its prey. He bit down on the rabbit’s neck and although his hands were thin and bony, he had a grasp like a hawk. He tried to shove the entire rabbit into his mouth, but Cade placed his hands over the boy’s carefully but firmly, and prevented him from swallowing the whole thing down. “Slow. Slow or you’ll bring it all back up.”

  Blood oozed down the boy’s chin. It ran along Cade’s arm and dripped down where gravity got the better of it. As the child devoured the animal, Cade pulled his hand away before he got his teeth into that, too. He was glad that the boy had gone for the rabbit’s neck right away. It meant that he had the instincts he needed. Others didn’t hunt for fun and torture—not really, anyway. They hunted for fun, but they didn’t torture their catch. It was a feral need inside to hunt, feed and survive. The boy growled as he ate, deep, throaty growls that echoed around the empty room with every beat of his heart.

  Cade watched him curiously. The boy had deep welts on his bare legs and arms. His face was scratched, too. He must have clawed at himself at some point. He had ‘the itches’. It was what they called it when the body needed to shift. It was the thing that drove Others to the brink of insanity when they were forbidden to shift and caused them to claw their own skin off in a bid to free their animal. Cade just hoped that the boy would manage to shift himself before that happened.

  He waited for him to finish off the rabbit, already thinking about the fact he’d need a new shirt. The boy’s arm finally dropped to the side, a partial bit of the rabbit left. Blinking, the brightness in his eyes slowly faded and was gradually replaced by the normal blue of his own eyes as his partial shift began to reverse itself. He stared at Cade, confused and hesitant.

  Cade slid himself closer and slipped an arm behind him, intending to lift him up and place him back on the bed. But the boy slumped to the side and leant against Cade’s chest, shocking him. He stared down at the boy’s face and was greeted with softly blinking eyes looking helplessly back up at him.

  “We can survive this. I promise. You and I. We’ll do it together.” The boy let out a tremulous breath and Cade lifted his hand to his face to brush his hair back. Carefully, he lifted the front of the boy’s shirt and wiped his face clean with it.

  Seeing the innocence in those eyes that watched him made Cade’s anger flare inside. Who would do this? Who would bite a child, Human or Other? Like it didn’t matter, and then just leave them out in the world this way? It was cruel. He hoped that he would meet whoever had done this because he was sure as hell going to make them regret it. Maybe it was the bond between them, or maybe it was the same shit that was going on with Gemma—he didn’t know and he didn’t care—but the urge inside him to protect the boy was almost as immense as his need to take Gemma as his own.

  Cade didn’t really hate Humans. Not the kids. Not like this boy. He knew that they were raised to hate Others. It wasn’t their fault what they were born into, and then the shit they were fed to believe every minute of their lives. They even taught them in school about the wars and the hatred they should feel for the wrong Others had done, for god’s sake, when, in fact, most of the wrongs had been done by Humans—by their stupidity and their fears.

  What if this boy could be the link between both sides? To show that they really could just live in harmony without one side needing to feel like they had to control the other.

  Cade held the boy to him for a moment, resting his head against the top of the boy’s. With great care, he then lifted him up and placed him back onto the bed, covering him up again. The boy was asleep within minutes.

  “We’ll get through this,” Cade repeated softly. “With everything I have, I won’t let you down. I promise”

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was so heart-breaking. Everything around them was just gone, laid to waste as if it didn’t matter. Where once trees had stood so tall they blocked the view, or hedges so thick and high that they sculpted the landscape, now only masses of burnt trees and foliage greeted them. Gemma stared out of the window, bewildered at how someone or something could bear to cause such destruction. The more she saw, the more the ache in her heart tugged inside and made her want to weep. As far as the eye could see, it was just never ending miles of damage. They had the windows up in the car, even the air conditioning turned off and the vents shut, but the smell still managed to worm its way in—the acrid scent of death and destruction. Seth drove slowly. It was like being in a hearse and escorting the dead—only the dead were what was outside. Stephen sat in the front seat quietly as he stared out of the window, and Gemma knew that inside he was grieving. On one side, fires were still burning, the destruction not quite over yet.

  “Stop,” she demanded suddenly. “Stop the car.”

  Stephen twisted around in his seat to look at her. It was impossible to hide her tear-filled eyes from him. “Gem?”

  “I just want to look,” she whispered sadly. “I want to see what they have done.”

  Seth gave Stephen an uneasy look, but waited for his orders. Though it was Malcolm he typically took orders from, and in this case it was to get them straight home, Seth answered to Stephen right now. As beta, Stephen could change plans in his father’s absence. He nodded at Seth, and then glanced back to Gemma. “Just a minute, okay?”

  “I don’t need longer than that,” she said quietly. “I just want to look.”

  Only slightly older to Stephen’s twenty-four years, Seth would never question or defy his beta’s command. He pulled the car to a complete stop at the side of the lane, no real lay-by or kerb to pull up at. Gemma got out of the car and went to stand on the opposite side of the lane
, staring out into the distance. Stepping to the edge of what was once Neroche Forest, she felt a profound sadness fill her. Small, with not much wildlife, it wasn’t a place that she had ever really chosen to run. A stream had run through it, though, and it had been good on those lazy, hotter summer days, when she’d preferred to lie by the gurgling, crystal waters rather than enjoy the thrill of a hunt. A tear rolled down her face. There was nothing but a stream of darkened sludge now—a water graveyard of nature.

  Gemma glanced back down the lane in the direction they had just come from. She pictured Cade as he had stood there watching them leave. If she focused hard enough, maybe she could reach his mind from where she stood. Lord knows her heart was aching enough for him that he should have been able to feel it. He was miles back now, across the bridge and tucked away. It didn’t matter whether it was one mile or ten, though. She would always feel that he was too far away from her. Her tiger whimpered inside, urging her to run back to where she felt she belonged.

  “He’ll be fine,” Stephen whispered from beside her. “He knows what he is doing.”

  “I know,” she said shakily, but it wasn’t the worry that was getting to her. It was the ache inside.

  One of the Humans spotted Gemma and Stephen where they stood at the edge. His eyes fixed on them, he grinned, revelling in what he knew would be causing Others great pain. She curled her lip in disgust at him, hoping the fucker could die from smoke inhalation or something. It would be less than he deserved. The roar of the fire grew as they continued to burn everything down, the flaming demons invisible as they blazed through everything in sight. Gemma couldn’t blame them, though. How can you blame something that had been captured and summoned to do what they believed would get them their freedom? No, it wasn’t their fault. It was the Humans and all of their stupidity. It was their damn irrational fear of Others that had the boy roaming the streets in the first place—she would bet her life on it.

  “I hope the Humans burn themselves,” Gemma said to Stephen. “I hope it hurts like hell.”

  “Pity them, Gemma, don’t hate them.” His hands came up and rubbed her arms in a comforting motion as he continued to stand behind her. She leaned back into him and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. She relished the contact in this moment, needing his strength and reassurance. He would make a good alpha one day. For all his laughter and all his rebellion against their father, he was a born protector. When Stephen was there, she always felt safe, like nothing in the world could ever hurt her. Not physically, at least. “They don’t deserve any kind of emotion from us. Not one fucking ounce of it.”

  She nodded against him. “Do you think Cade will be okay? I don’t mean this. I mean …” She trailed off, not wanting to voice the dreadful thoughts.

  “We’ll do our best to make sure of it,” he promised. “We won’t let him down. Are you ready to get back into the car?”

  Gemma watched the clever, victorious Human with his stick ready to beat the poor, enslaved demon should he refuse to do his bidding. How mighty he was, hiding behind two armed guards with their guns. Hatred twisted inside her for them. She wished she could be like Stephen and pity them, but all she felt was repugnance and loathing. “I’m ready,” she said. “I've seen enough.”

  When they reached the house, the driveway was overflowing with cars. It looked like every member of the Society had turned up with each heir. He spotted Trevor’s car—a Mercedes, on which the vain git had changed the emblem to that of his house wolf. Trevor was Cade’s father and alpha to the wolves—and god didn’t everyone know it. He was also second to Malcolm, a fact that did not entirely please the power-hungry wolf. Should he ever get the chance, Trevor MacDonald would not miss the opportunity to take the seat that was now held by Malcolm—his supposed friend. Stephen was almost thankful that Cade wasn’t Trevor’s beta. Aaron was the oldest of the MacDonald boys. Like his father, he too drove a Mercedes and had the emblem changed. He really was his father’s Mini-Me.

  In the house, chaos prevailed. People talked in groups and huddled in corners, though silence fell the moment Stephen walked in. He was a head taller than most, his mere presence filling the room as he stood there. He didn’t know if it was that the Humans had pissed him off, or even the night he’d just had, but as he stared at them all with quiet contemplation, he found himself eyeing them with contempt. They were all assholes. Plain and simple. Every single one of them. Stephen knew without asking that there would have been a meeting last night—probably into the small hours—all of them, like mindless sheep, bleating at his father, demanding to know what he planned to do. Then, when someone opposed his plans—usually Trevor—they would bleat their agreement like brainless twits, not once coming up with answers or solutions of their own. One day, this would be his job—and god help them. He didn’t have his father’s patience or tolerance for dim-witted members.

  Angela, the pack master to the foxes, was standing by the window alone. Malcolm had always had a fondness for her, but as Stephen stared at her now, with eyes suddenly opened and his mind filled with anger, he saw that she was nothing more than anyone else. “Where is my father?” he asked her with no prelude. Angela always knew the exact whereabouts of Malcolm.

  “In the kitchen with Trevor,” she replied coolly, her stony, assessing eyes meeting his squarely. Stephen gave a curt nod and left. He found his father standing at the table, unsurprisingly with Trevor as he stood debating over every single disagreement he had with Malcolm’s suggestions.

  His father looked old today, Stephen thought—tired. His light brown hair had turned grey over the years, and the lines of worry that marred his face went hand in hand with the responsibilities of being alpha to the Other community. Small, round glasses rested on top of his head, where they usually sat if they weren’t perched on his nose. He didn’t look up when Stephen entered, but Stephen knew full well his father knew that he was there. Malcom wasn’t alpha for no good reason. His keen senses and astute intelligence were a force to be reckoned with.

  Stephen cleared his throat and waited. No one ever interrupted the alpha when he was in the middle of something.

  “We’re heading to see Patterson. You need to get ready,” Malcolm finally said to his son without looking at him. He carried on writing whatever it was he was writing while Trevor stood there, like some kind of prison warden, arms clasped behind his back, ready to criticise Malcolm for anything he believed he was doing wrong.

  “We’re meeting?” Stephen asked his father when he eventually stood up straight.

  “Yes. We have a meeting booked two hours from now. With Andrew Patterson.” Patterson was the Human who was the equal to Malcolm—although not equal as such. To Patterson, he was above Malcolm, but he was the voice for the Humans in the area and he was the one that Malcolm would have to discuss everything with in order to come to some form of conclusion. The meeting would happen in the main centre of town, in a meeting house. It was nothing more than a rundown warehouse that no one used except for neutral meeting grounds. There were two entrances at either side—one for the head of the Human Council, Andrew Patterson, and one for the head of the Preternatural Council, Malcolm Davies. It was more like a debate section in a high school. There were a few seats, and both sides had to take along their families. It was an insurance thing. Kind of like silent hostages, Stephen thought to himself. It was one of the many rules Humans had—they saw it as protection. Stephen would stand beside Malcolm.

  “Do we know anything yet? What have the Humans said?” Before he could answer, Gemma wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a plate of cold meat from the fridge. Stephen grimaced with disgust and then went back to his father.

  “All we know is that a young boy was murdered and half eaten. There is no denying that it was a crime committed by Other. My main priority right now is to get them to stop destroying everything in an attempt to flush the culprit out.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll ask for time,”
Malcolm said. “So that we can find them ourselves and sort this out in our own way. The Humans will want some kind of compensation, however. There's nothing that can be done about that.”

  “Because burning everything we have to the ground isn’t enough?” Gemma threw at him.

  “Because one of ours killed one of theirs, and they need punishing,” replied Malcolm evenly.

  “Are you just going to hand them over?” Gemma demanded to know, and Stephen winced at her tone. It was never a good idea to question their father, especially in front of Trevor.

  “We will do what is needed,” Trevor said, “to keep the peace so that you can all rest easy.”

  “What if it was an accident?”

  “Gem,” Stephen said warningly.

  “No, not this, Stephen. We just give in all the time. What if this death was an accident?”

  “How can half eating someone be an accident?” asked Trevor, his tone mocking. He cocked his head to one side and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you just accidently eat people?”

  “I have control … but I might start,” she retorted.

  “Enough,” Malcom said, raising his hand. “Patterson will make his demands and we will make ours.”

  “He’ll want the …”

  “He’ll want the person responsible,” said Stephen, cutting his sister off before she said too much. “As would we if this was something the Humans had done. “

  “They wouldn’t give us one of theirs if they did something bad to us. You know that.” She looked from Stephen to Trevor, and then to her father. Stephen understood her frustration, he really did. But this was just the way things worked. “We don’t always have to give them what they want.”