by Jane Godman
It was Roko who gave a reluctant nod. He appeared subdued. Unnaturally so. Violet wondered if he had been warned to behave himself by Cal. “It’s true. I do not scent anything mortal about him.”
“That spell will continue to protect him when he travels to the Wolf Nation.” Violet was surprised to see a change in Cal’s expression. The charming smile vanished to be replaced by a hard, implacable determination. This was a man she wouldn’t cross. This was a man who had maintained his grip on both worlds for centuries, not only with his spectacular magical prowess but also with his strength of will. It was obvious from her father’s altered attitude that he was not prepared to oppose Cal in this mood. “Just so we are clear...nothing will happen to Nate while he is in Otherworld. That is my decree. I hope it is understood?”
Nevan cleared his throat. “Understood.”
Cal’s smile reappeared. “Then that’s settled. Violet and Nate will travel with you to the Wolf Nation tomorrow morning.”
Roko gave a grudging murmur of assent. Violet turned her head to look at Nevan. Briefly, she was caught in a blaze of fury from his eyes so strong it caused her to recoil. Then his eyelids lowered and the look was hidden. Shaken, she turned to Nate to see if he had noticed, but he was looking at Cal. When she glanced Nevan’s way again, his expression was neutral. Shaking her head, Violet chastised herself for her foolishness.
No memory, but too much imagination. Just one more problem to add to a growing list, Violet, my girl.
* * *
“Just as I extracted a promise from Nevan that you would be safe with him, I need a similar guarantee from you.” Cal drew Nate to one side just before he prepared to descend the cliff to the waiting boat.
“You think I’m going to push him overboard at the first opportunity?”
Cal didn’t smile at Nate’s attempt at humor. “I know your desire for vengeance has been the driving force in your life for the last six years. Every time we’ve met, you have done your best to persuade me to let you come to Otherworld so you can kill Nevan. Now you are here, and he is within your sights, I need your assurance that it won’t happen. Just as I need to know that, as a werewolf hunter, you will be okay with this trip to the Wolf Nation.”
Nate looked across to where Violet was attempting to make awkward conversation with her father. Beyond the cliff edge, the water was a deep blue dappled with diamond patterns of brilliant sunlight. A light breeze stirred the air, sending a crisp, clean tang of salt and seaweed in a nostalgic assault on his nostrils. It reminded him of childhood outings, of sandcastles and ice cream. It was a perfect summer morning, just about as far from feral werewolves, ruined dreams and threats of vengeance as it was possible to get.
Cal said Nate had Nevan in his sights. It was true. But as he looked over at where the Wolf Leader stood, Nate barely saw the man who had tortured and tormented him, the man who in many ways had ruled his life for so long. Because what he also had in his sights was an image of perfection. It wasn’t possible for Nate to look at anything, or anyone, else for long when Violet was near. She was the sole focus of his attention. She was everything. Pain, suffering, vengeance...all those things faded into insignificance compared with what he felt for her.
“I’d never do anything that would hurt her.” He wasn’t aware he had spoken aloud until Cal’s hand came down on his shoulder.
“That’s good enough for me.” There was a world of understanding in the silver eyes that had seen everything over the many centuries of the sorcerer’s life. “I wish I could promise you a different ending.”
Nate grasped his hand. “If you think of something while I’m away, let me know. Immortality, disguise me as a non-feral werewolf, overthrow Nevan...anything.”
Cal nodded, his serious expression signifying there was nothing he could do. Nate guessed there were rules about how far he could go to help a friend. “You’ll be the first to hear.”
Nate joined Violet and Nevan. Violet’s expression of relief told him all he needed to know about how her efforts at making conversation with her father had gone. With a final wave to Cal, Nate began his descent to the beach. Although there appeared to be a sheer drop down to the tiny bay below the cliffs, there was a series of steep steps cut into the rock. Nevan led the way and Nate went next, turning regularly to check if Violet needed assistance. Although she clambered down nimbly, her father seemed to have forgotten that she had recently been seriously ill and might need help. Nate sent a frown in Nevan’s direction at such unfeeling conduct, but it went unnoticed.
Minutes later, their feet crunched onto the sandy beach. A dinghy was pulled up onto the shore, and a young man scrambled to attention when he saw Nevan approaching. There was a larger vessel bobbing on the waves in the deeper water and, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight, Nate saw it was a motorized sailboat.
“Where is Roko?” Nate asked as the young man helped Nevan into the dinghy.
Nevan gave him a dismissive glance. “His method of transport is his own affair. I am not concerned with the movements of my enemies.”
“I take it the peace talks were not productive?” Nate placed his hands on Violet’s waist and lifted her into the dinghy before climbing in beside her.
“I may be forced to tolerate your presence, but I do not have to discuss werewolf business with you.” Nevan turned his gaze to the open water as his servant set the dinghy skimming across the waves.
Violet tucked her hand into Nate’s and mouthed the word touchy at him. Her spirits didn’t seem to have been damaged by Nevan’s coldness. She had taken it in stride, and Nate wondered if there was a part of her, even if it was buried deep in her subconscious, that knew this was all she could ever expect from her father.
Nate didn’t have much experience of sea travel, but, as he stepped from the dinghy onto the larger vessel, he appreciated that this was a luxurious boat. The living areas were paneled in light wood, and the upholstery looked expensive. Stepping into a saloon with a cushioned bench settee and a central table, he glanced around at the other accommodations. Beyond the saloon there was a spacious aft cabin with a double berth, storage and a bathroom. Behind him was a smaller cabin, with one single bunk.
Without speaking to anyone, Nevan stalked off to the larger cabin, shutting the door behind him.
“I guess that puts an end to any protracted conversation about who is sleeping where.” Nate carried his and Violet’s bags through to the tiny cabin. “At least I won’t lose you in here.”
“How long will it take us to reach the Wolf Nation?” Violet asked the man who had brought them across in the dinghy.
“Two days.” He blushed, casting a furtive glance in the direction of the closed cabin door. “I’m glad to have this chance to thank you, my lady.”
Violet regarded him warily. “You are?”
“Yes.” He kept his voice to a whisper. “My father was one of Anwyl’s supporters. He was killed when your father took over and, like all families who were loyal to the former leader, we were thrown out of our home. My mother was ill and frail. I thought she would die. Then, on one of your weekly visits to the refugee camp, you noticed her plight. You not only got her medical care, you also found me this job.” He cast another look in the direction of Nevan’s cabin. “The Wolf Leader still doesn’t know my background.”
Violet stared at him in silence for several seconds before answering. When she spoke, her voice was shaky. “I remember. You are Emil.” She turned her head to Nate, her eyes shining. “I can remember something at last.” She placed her hand on Emil’s arm. “How is your mother?”
His eyes brightened with tears. “Even though she is still in the refugee camp, she is well, my lady. She speaks of you often.”
Observing the exchange, Nate noticed something new in Violet’s demeanor. He had always known she had reserves of inner strength, but now he got a sense of inner responsibili
ty from her, as well. He recognized that she had felt it was her duty to help Emil about his mother, and that she saw supporting those less fortunate as part of her role. Somehow he didn’t think that obligation to others had been inherited from her father. On the contrary, he got the feeling that Nevan would do his best to thwart any attempt his daughter might make to assist those people who had been displaced when he took over as leader of the werewolves. Standing up for her principles in the face of Nevan’s opposition must have taken courage and determination, and he saw Violet square her shoulders as some appreciation of what she was up against started to come back to her.
Nate began to realize there might be a lot more to Violet’s story than that of the spoiled, rebellious werewolf leader’s daughter who had traveled to the mortal realm to defy and annoy her father. That was the impression Nevan might want them to get, but it didn’t fit with what Emil was saying. She was rebellious, that much was true. If she was assisting the people who had been harmed by her father’s actions, then she was hardly behaving a way that Nevan would consider dutiful. Spoiled? Emil had spoken of one of her weekly visits to the refugee camp. That meant she visited regularly. That, coupled with her behavior toward him and his mother, was hardly that of an overindulged young woman.
No, Nevan had been less than truthful when he spoke of the reason for her defiance, Nate decided. But what he hoped to gain from it was unclear. He must know Violet would regain her memory sooner or later and that she would recall her past commitments. Unless he really was so arrogant he believed that, between now and then, he could bring enough pressure to bear on her that he could change her mind?
From the renewed sparkle in Violet’s eyes, Nate doubted that would be the case. And he has me to contend with if he makes the attempt. Either way, he suspected his visit to the Wolf Nation was likely to be an interesting one. Add Roko, the jealous would-be lover into the mix...
The boat gave a forward surge as Emil started the engines and their journey began.
Chapter 18
They had navigated a series of smaller islands, but now Emil called them over and pointed out the distant outline of a larger land mass. “That is Urlati, one of the two main islands of the Wolf Nation.”
Violet stared at it, trying to find something familiar in its shape.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for a life on the ocean waves.” Nate stretched his long limbs. “I might be going ever so slightly stir-crazy.”
“You spend most of your time on a cramped tour bus,” Violet pointed out. “How is this different?”
He leaned over the deck rail and gazed into the churning water. “I can’t decide to get off this boat and walk around the way I can with the bus. And while having you as my roommate in exchange for Khan or Torque definitely has its compensations, I’m sure that cabin was intended for a five-year-old.”
Throughout the two days of the journey, Nevan had remained in his cabin, eating the meals Emil prepared alone and not surfacing to speak to anyone. While part of her was relieved that she didn’t have to interact with this person who was essentially a stranger to her, it seemed an odd way to behave when he had just been reunited with his daughter. It made Violet slightly fearful to think about what she would uncover when she finally got to know the man who had provided 50 percent of her DNA.
Ever since Emil had spoken to her about his mother, odd snippets of her past life had drifted back to her. They were mostly connected to the things Emil had talked of. She saw images of Anwyl’s supporters being driven from their homes by her father’s beta wolves, groups of those same black werewolves who had attacked the party in Vermont and stormed the stage at the Beast concert in Marseilles. She even recalled going to Nevan and protesting, pleading with him to be merciful in victory.
Her mind took her back to the refugee camp, to the unimaginable suffering she had witnessed there. She saw packs of displaced werewolves huddled together, lost and confused, their lives torn apart because of a power struggle that had nothing to do with them. Men, women and children robbed of their basic human rights and their fundamental werewolf dignity. She remembered making a promise that one member of her family at least would not turn a blind eye to their suffering. My lady. It was what Emil had called her, and she heard the words ringing in her mind, accompanied by hands lifted in supplication and tears of gratitude. And overlying it all was a sense of fear, of wanting to do more, needing to find a way to make things better.
Why and how that vow had taken her to the mortal realm she had no idea, but she felt her presence there had something to do with the charitable work she had undertaken on behalf of those refugees. It was almost as frustrating to have half memories as it was to have none.
Nate seemed to pick up on her thoughts as he nodded across the expanse of water at the looming island of Urlati. She had told him about her flashbacks, so he knew her memory was trying to resurface. “Do you remember it at all?”
Violet stared at the shimmering outline. Was it because she wanted to feel something, or was there really a tug of emotion deep within her? Whatever it was, the tiniest flicker of warmth stirred in the recesses of her memory. A faint nostalgia. She tried to clutch at it. Yes, this place meant something to her. Urlati was her home, the land of her birth. She had been raised here. Her family and friends lived here. The more she chased the feelings, the further they danced out of her grasp.
“I’m not sure.” It was a disappointed sigh.
He slid an arm around her shoulders. “You’re getting there. It will all come back to you in time.”
Nevan came on deck as Emil brought the boat alongside a harbor wall. When they alighted and stepped ashore, they were in a scenic village, and Violet could see Nate staring around him in surprise. She guessed he was thinking that this was not the picture conjured up by the words Wolf Nation.
“Did you imagine it would be a dark, apocalyptic place filled with warring packs of snarling werewolves?”
“I don’t know what I imagined,” he said as they followed a narrow lane toward rolling hills. “But I don’t think it was anything like this.”
Because she had no recollection of her homeland, Violet wasn’t sure what she had expected. During the short time she had spent in the mortal realm, she had become accustomed to the fast pace of life there. Crowds of people had packed into huge stadiums, where noise, light and color had been the dominant features, to see Beast. She had stayed in large, luxurious hotels in densely populated cities. They had traveled in a huge tour bus along vast, congested freeways. Ged had used the internet to communicate, and the band members had been amazed at Violet’s lack of knowledge of social media. With no memory to draw on, she had been unsure whether her ignorance was due to lack of experience or amnesia.
The faerie palace had represented a very different pace of life. Instantly, everything had slowed down. There had been no crowds, no vehicles, no cell phones or internet. Stella, whose job in the mortal realm had been to design digital games, had confessed to Violet that she had initially found the contrast bewildering. Violet had experienced no such difficulty in adjusting. She had not missed the trappings of technology that went along with the mortal realm. She hadn’t realized that the noise, bustle and constant motion bothered her until they were gone. Once they were, she had breathed a sigh of relief.
The Wolf Nation echoed the peace of the Faerie Isles and took it a step further. As Emil led them away from the harbor, Violet drank in the simplicity of her surroundings. The sylvan setting of rolling pastures and wild woodland was only occasionally broken by small clusters of dwellings. Something stirred in the recesses of her memory. Some residual sadness. She cast a sidelong glance at Nevan. Her father was a violent man. She recalled that, as she was growing up, her overriding feeling toward him had been anger at his insistence on dragging the werewolves into a prolonged and bloody civil war. She also knew that questioning him had always been futile.
“
Wolves are pack animals. We fight for our own families. It is not in our nature to follow the cause of another.” She spoke the words out loud, knowing she had said them to Nevan before. Many times.
He turned his head sharply, glaring at her. “Why do you say that? Why now, when the war is over?”
“Because it still matters. The fight between you and Anwyl tore our dynasty apart. Now you are proposing to do it all again by taking this feud against Roko to the same lengths.” She waved a hand around her. “These lands are mostly composed of these tiny villages. Individual packs. The reason our population is so large is that our lands are huge and there are so many of these small hamlets. Plus, there is a huge werewolf community in the mortal realm. You draw your reluctant army from each of these small areas of paradise. And when you won, you weren’t magnanimous in victory. You burned the homes of the losing side to the ground. You wiped out entire packs and left the wives and children of the losers homeless.”
Violet was aware of Nate listening intently to what she was saying, his expression shocked and disgusted at what he was hearing. The contrast between the beauty of the scene and the ugliness of her words could not be more marked.
“Your spell in the mortal realm hasn’t changed you. You still know nothing of politics,” Nevan growled. “My reluctant army? How can there be such a thing?”
“Because you rely on the single most important trait a werewolf has.” Violet’s voice was sad. “These people leave their homes to fight for a cause out of loyalty. They are forced to take sides and are punished when they do.”