Wolfen

by Alianne Donnelly

  “What if she screws us over, huh?”

  “Unlikely.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I’ll be keeping an eye on her.”

  Yeah, of that, she had no doubt. Sinna shook her head. “I don’t like this.”

  Bryce’s mouth twitched. “You already said that.”

  “Well, it still applies! And stop smiling, damn it! This isn’t funny.”

  He straightened from his slouch, and moments later, one of Sarge’s men came to the door, carrying a bundle. He cleared his throat, signaling he wanted to come in, but Bryce didn’t budge from his spot. Rolling his eyes, the soldier held the bundle out to them instead. “Matron said to tell you the feast is formal. She wants you to wear these, and don’t be late.”

  Since Bryce wouldn’t take it from him, Sinna accepted the bundle. “Thanks.” Then, because she was in a foul mood, she wriggled her fingers to shoo him away. “That’ll be all.” When he left in a huff, Sinna set it down onto the table and untied the protective wrap. “And for today’s choice of humiliation, we have…a Village Person, and…whatever this is.” She held up what looked like a very long blue night shirt with white laces on the back to bunch the extra fabric together. “I’m not wearing this.”

  “Well, my shoulders won’t fit into it.”

  “These are costumes.”

  “Of course they are. You heard your friend. This place is a ‘round-the-clock Renaissance Faire.”

  Sinna made a sound of disgust and tossed the dress back onto the pile. “This is like one of those killer clown nightmares you can’t wake up from.”

  “Cheer up, little bit,” Bryce said in his most accurate impression of Aiden yet. “At least there aren’t monsters chasing you.”

  Sinna winced. “I don’t think I like that nickname anymore.” It was cute when Aiden said it; he joked about everything. But coming from Bryce, it made her feel about two inches tall.

  Here she was, this genetically engineered supercreature, and until she’d met Helena, Sinna had actually believed that meant something. But it didn’t. Maybe the change hadn’t taken like it should have. Or maybe she was already too old. Compared to the real Wolfen female around here, Sinna was a dud. She didn’t have Helena’s speed or muscle definition, and she’d never be a fighter, because she didn’t like to fight. She’d never be able to sniff out converts and such; her nose just wasn’t that good. And even though she might hear a little better than before, it was nothing compared to Aiden, who could locate a rabbit underground and spear it through the roof of its burrow before the animal even knew he was there.

  Little bit. What did that even mean? A little bit Wolfen? Not enough to get the official club member badge? Or were there hierarchies among them, and the weaker ones ended up like pets to the stronger?

  “I like it,” Bryce said.

  “Well, I don’t.” She hated it, and Bryce for using it, and Helena for making her feel completely irrational about it. Sinna huffed in frustration. “I need to get out of here.”

  Bryce barred her way, looking at her hard until she raised her gaze up to his. “Nothing’s changed, you know. It’s still us against everyone else.”

  “No, it isn’t.” She gave him a bitter little smile. “Now the ‘us’ is supposed to include her. And I’m kind of wondering how long before it no longer includes me.”

  She’d known all along that trusting the brothers and letting herself fall for the good guy act would cost her in the end. And here it was. Bryce would need help to get Aiden back, and with Helena on the scene to provide it, Sinna had become obsolete.

  Bryce frowned.

  Sinna raised an eyebrow. “You said it yourself: she’s strong, and she can fight. She’d make a much more capable ally than me.” Nothing like being confronted with her complete and utter uselessness to put a girl back in her place. She tried not to show how much it hurt to acknowledge. “I mean, we are in a freaking fairy tale,” she said. “You could park me right here, safe and sound, and your conscience would be clear. I’m just slowing you down, anyway. And she seems to like you quite a bit. You two could be very happy together.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She shrugged. “All the more reason to leave me behind, right?” Sinna shoved past him, but it felt more like he let her. Didn’t exactly bolster her confidence. “It’s okay. Really. You guys saved my life, gave me a fighting chance. Can’t ask for more than that.”

  “Sinna—”

  She turned on her heel and walked away before she did something stupid, like burst into tears.

  In terms of people, Hopetown wasn’t all that big, but it sprawled over so much land, it felt huge. Sinna didn’t watch where she was going as she let her feet carry her past the stables to the arena, where young guards trained with Sarge. She slowed to watch them, envious of the way they moved. Weighed down in armor, sweating beneath the sun, they never complained, each and every face pinched with determined concentration, each move sharp, precise and coordinated with the unit. When Sarge barked an order, the group executed as one, wielding massive swords with relative ease.

  For a half-second, Sinna considered asking to join them.

  Then Sarge turned to look at her, his face expressionless, and Sinna flushed, and moved on, feeling like an intruder.

  Kids played in the square, dogs corralled a flock of ducks that had waddled out of their pen. A heavenly smell wafted on the breeze, and she tracked it to the baker and a fresh batch of buns. Her mouth watered.

  The baker stopped kneading to watch her warily. “Got something to trade?” he demanded.

  Sinna shook her head.

  “Then move along.”

  She did, and somehow her wandering brought her to Nate’s shed. All at once, she remembered Tam’s pale, lifeless face, the way her cloudy eyes had stared right through her. She couldn’t shake it, feeling the same stab of betrayal she had back then, knowing the man they’d all trusted to keep them safe had murdered one of them. The wound of Tam’s death might have scabbed over, but it was still there, along with the fear, resentment, and disgust; the helplessness from hating Nate and what he’d done, but needing him to get them somewhere better.

  There was also guilt. Sinna had suspected something was off that night—Nate had given in to taking Tam along too easily for a man obsessed with surviving at any cost—but she’d done nothing. And a horrible little voice at the back of her mind accused her of having done it on purpose. It wasn’t true. She hadn’t wanted any of them to die. Still, the sickening guilt remained and she hated it, didn’t want to carry the weight of it anymore.

  Sinna pulled the door open just enough to slip inside. Flies buzzed around the back corner, and for a moment, she thought Nate was dead. But his feet twitched, and she heard the catch in his breath.

  “Nate?”

  A low whimper.

  Sinna approached slowly, taking him in by degrees. He looked worse than before; his skin now had a grayish tinge with red splotches of fever glowing on his cheeks and his forehead, lips cracked and bleeding. She didn’t need a medical degree to know he wasn’t long for this world.

  Sinna sat down, crossed her legs, and braced her elbows on her knees. “I know you can hear me,” she said. “Maybe not like we’re having a conversation, but deep down, I know you understand. So I’m going to talk, and say my piece.” An uneasy shiver ran up her spine, and she glanced around to make sure she was alone. Nothing moved, outside or in.

  Nate’s eyes opened a crack. Flies buzzed around them, and with just enough self-awareness left to feel it, he twitched his head in a weak attempt to scare them off. They landed anyway.

  “I hate you for what you did to Tam. I hate that you always had Connor’s back, no matter what he did, and that you just stood there while he shot me down. You let Isaac die, and you left Amy and Matt behind. You were one heartless son of a bitch. If you hadn’t needed Dave, you probably would have left him, too.” Sinna sighed. “But you kept us
alive for as long as you could. And maybe the rest of us could have done more, or maybe you wouldn’t have let us. Maybe you liked bossing us around a little too much. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

  Nate jerked as if someone had goosed him, mumbling incoherently.

  “Because of you,” she went on, “a lot of people are dead. But if you hadn’t done what you did, the rest of us would be, too, and I want to thank you for that. You saved Dave’s life, and in a way you saved mine. So I guess what I’m trying to say is…I’m letting it go, and I think you should, too. We do what we can, and that’s all we can do. Sometimes it’s a shitty place to be. Well, most of the time, actually. But you can’t let it eat you up.”

  Her words didn’t magically lift the weight from her shoulders, but they did ease it a little bit. She smiled. “It’s not exactly a benediction, is it?” Pushing to her feet, Sinna dusted herself off and sighed again. “You wouldn’t have believed one, anyway. Goodbye, Nathan Jeremiah Sloan.” People didn’t get funerals or grave markers anymore. But Sinna believed in speaking the full names of the fallen in a final tribute to their life. It was a tradition they’d honored back in San Francisco, and she wanted him to hear it.

  She walked away, listening to his breaths come faster and harder, until she reached the door and he gasped, making her flinch. Seconds passed, and then he slowly exhaled, breathing his last.

  “Rest in peace.”

  Sinna closed the door with quiet respect. She’d need to tell someone. The body couldn’t be left there to rot—

  “That was some speech.”

  Sinna jumped, and whirled around. Helena leaned against the shack wall, face turned up to the sun.

  “No, really. I almost shed a tear. Was he your widdle wuv bug back in ‘Frisco? Will you miss him tewibly?”

  Sinna raised an eyebrow. “So, you listened to the speech, you just didn’t hear it, is that it?”

  The blonde turned to frown at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind.”

  Helena left the sunny spot to follow her. “So what’s the deal with you and Scarface?”

  “Why are you talking to me?”

  The blonde got in front of her, and walked backwards, keeping face-to-face. “What, is it like a big secret? I smell him all over you. It’s not like you can hide it. But the way you’re acting it’s like you’re in high school or something.”

  Sinna stopped. “Do you even know what that is?”

  Helena made her face grave and serious. “Do you?”

  Sinna edged around her. “There’s something really wrong with you.”

  Helena laughed, and fell into step. Couldn’t take a hint, that one. “Yeah, I hear that a lot. But you know what? Fuck ‘em. Who cares, right? What the hell do they know? It’s not like we’re even the same species.” With a sweep of her arm, she encompassed everything within sight. “I could take any one of these bitches. Or all of them. I am God.”

  Wow.

  “And Scarface should be all over me,” Helena said, disgruntled. “I haven’t seen a male like him in all my life. We’d make the perfect power couple, don’t you think?”

  “Should be…that means he isn’t.”

  “Yet, sister. He isn’t—yet. He will be. No one can resist my charms.”

  Sinna rolled her eyes.

  Helena caught her arm, pulled her to a stop, and gave her a heated once-over. “But he is a male, which means it could take a while. I wouldn’t mind a little tussle with you in the meantime.”

  “What?”

  Helena shrugged. “You’re cute enough. Got a good mouth on ya, too. And you move like you know how. I can work with that. What do you say?”

  Sinna shook her head, trying not to gape. “Killer clown nightmare. I swear to God.” She edged around the crazy person, and picked up her step to get away from her.

  “Is that a ‘no’ to the sexy-sexy, then?” Helena called, louder than necessary.

  “That’s a ‘no.’ Stop following me!”

  “Hey, I can’t help it if we’re going the same way.”

  Sinna halted. “Where are you going?”

  Helena shrugged. “Armory.”

  “Excellent.” Sinna turned in a different direction. “You have yourself a lovely day.”

  “Are you mad at me or something? ‘Cuz if this is about the other night, I asked you what your name was, and you wouldn’t tell me. That ass-kicking is all your own fault.”

  Something about the way she said it niggled at Sinna’s memory and she turned to face Helena, trying not to feel intimidated by the blonde’s extra inches and truly terrifying shoulder muscles. “What are you talking about?”

  “What’ss. Your-ruh. Naiiiim-muh?” Helena enunciated as if speaking to an idiot.

  Sinna shifted from foot to foot, pulling on her sleeves to curl her hands inside them. “Someone I knew since I can remember sometimes called me Sigma Nine.”

  Helena blinked, expression momentarily blank, before her eyes sparkled with anger. “Are you shitting me right now?”

  “Uh, no?”

  “A nine? Are you out of your mind?”

  “Hey—”

  “What the hell were you thinking, challenging a three? Jesus Christ!”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

  “Obviously!” Helena whirled around to stomp away, but just as quickly rounded back on Sinna. “You listen to me now, little girl, and you pay attention. Next time you meet one of us, you look at your feet. You fall in love with your toes, and you don’t lift your gaze off of them. Under no circumstances do you ever stare anyone down, you got it? You don’t challenge an adult, unless you can back it up—and believe me, you can’t. So just don’t. Understand?”

  “No, I don’t.” Little girl. Little bit. Weak, puny, barely Wolfen female who couldn’t hold her own against anyone, apparently. Was Helena trying to piss her off?

  Helena snarled, shoving her hands through her hair. “God, what is wrong with you?” She huffed, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Then, without opening them, she pointed down the path. “I don’t have the nerves for this. Bryce is with the quartermaster, where you should be, getting fitted for gear. Go there—now.”

  Sinna felt no particular urge to obey. She wasn’t in the mood to be bossed around, and she didn’t want to see Bryce. They’d spent every waking—and sleeping—moment together since Haven, and she could use some distance right about now to consider her next move. Crossing her arms, she rooted her feet and started Helena down.

  The girl growled. “Fine. It’s your life. Do whatever you want.”

  Sinna smiled as Helena stomped away. A small victory, but a mighty one. Damn, that felt good! With renewed vigor, she headed for the lake where she’d seen women go to wash earlier. The hell she would take one more order. From anyone. Sinna might not have Helena’s strength, but she had a good head on her shoulders. There were other ways to win wars than with brute strength.

  Weak and puny, am I? I’ll show them.

  The feast was formal? All right, she’d wear a dress.

  And it sure as hell wouldn’t be that stupid blue tent.

  48: Bryce

  The good news was the linen shirt was big, which gave him plenty of room to move. The bad news was the pants were tight leather with laces instead of a zipper up the front. Bryce could barely take a step, but when he’d asked the quartermaster for a bigger pair, the woman had giggled and told him they were supposed to fit that way. She’d traded him silver cuffs and a shoulder guard for a few bandages and a box of painkillers, but not even the whole rest of his supplies could buy him a different pair of pants.

  Sinna had been right. These costumes were meant to humiliate them.

  The thought of her made him slow to a stop in the shadows between the goat pen and a storage shed.

  She thought he wanted to leave her behind. He’d be lying if he said it had never crossed his mind. The moment he’d seen this place, Bryce had recognized how rare it was—
these people had built themselves up from nothing, and they were self-sufficient, isolated, and safe, as long as no one brought trouble to their door. And Sinna had a friend here. She wouldn’t need to feel like a stranger.

  Bryce had considered asking her if she wanted to stay. It would have killed him, but if she’d said yes, he would have let her.

  Okay, he’d have tried.

  Shit, who was he kidding? He hadn’t seen her for a day and it was already pushing him closer to the edge than he’d been in months. No way he’d ever leave her anywhere, especially not in the care of humans.

  And better off with Helena? In what universe? Helena was practically male, except for a few anatomical quirks. Bryce might go hunting with her, and it’d probably be like hunting with Aiden. But to come home to her at the end of the day?

  Bryce shuddered.

  Whenever you don’t understand someone, put yourself in their shoes, Aiden always said. That tends to clear things up real quick.

  Sinna had been raised by a human. She’d never met another Wolfen until Bryce and Aiden had entered her life. The only other females she’d ever seen were the ones Klaus kept chained to the wall. She had no frame of reference, so of course she didn’t know.

  In their world, Sinna wasn’t the anomaly. Helena was.

  He smiled, instantly feeling better. That was it. He’d just explain it to Sinna, and everything would work itself out.

  An enthusiastic shout rose up in the square, and drums set a driving rhythm to accompany some kind of wind instrument. The feast had begun.

  Bryce quickened his step, not keen on getting lectured for being late. He rounded the corner, then stopped in his tracks, gobsmacked.

  A massive bonfire roared in the middle of the square; a pile of wood as tall as Bryce, with flames licking high into the air. People crowded the tables with benches set up in a broken circle around it, eating, drinking, dancing, and singing with a joy the likes of which he hadn’t seen perhaps ever. And they were all dressed just like him—men in colorful shirts, women with ribbons and flowers in their hair.

  The scent of good food—and lots of it—made Bryce’s stomach growl. He stalked forward, eyes sharp for Sinna.