Wolfen

by Alianne Donnelly

  “No. About my sister.”

  Both of them stilled, and Sinna looked at Bryce for some kind of explanation. “What’s she talking about?”

  “He said if he ever found her again, he would release her.”

  What did that mean?

  Bryce said nothing.

  “You’ve met my sister,” Helena said. It wasn’t a question.

  “I met Matron’s daughter,” Bryce returned.

  Helena flinched, a gesture so small Sinna almost missed it. The blonde swallowed hard. “She’s alive?”

  “She was, last time I saw her.”

  “How…how is she?”

  Bryce sighed. “She’s with Klaus. How do you think she is?”

  Helena shook her head. “I mean, how did she look?” First time Sinna had seen the girl so vulnerable. Whatever Matron felt or didn’t feel for her daughter, Helena was different. There was a sort of hopeful anxiety in the way she leaned inward, eager to hear about her sister, but her hand was curled tightly around the sill as if she didn’t want to let go of her detachment. She looked so conflicted, so…human.

  Bryce saw it, too, and his brow furrowed in thought. “Frail,” he said. “I wasn’t…all there when we met, but I remember that. She’s short, very thin, and she walks with a limp.”

  Helena’s shoulders sagged. “I… We thought she was dead.”

  “She was the one in the lab, wasn’t she?” Sinna said.

  Bryce nodded.

  Helena huffed, hopped down from the window, and straddled one of the chairs, making herself at home. “You’re like me,” she told Bryce, “more than her. We have the same temperament, same traits.”

  “Not the same memories,” Bryce said.

  Helena nodded. “How far back do you remember?”

  From the look on his face, Sinna guessed it was pretty far, and it wasn’t pleasant. “Should I leave you two alone?”

  “No,” they said in unison.

  “Stay,” Bryce added, twining his fingers with Sinna’s.

  Helena hadn’t come empty handed. She laid out a bundle of food on the table for them. Well, set it down, untied the bundle, and told them to eat. A hostess she was not, but Sinna appreciated the thought, nonetheless.

  They sat around the table to a simple meal of bread and eggs, and it was so different from last night, Sinna didn’t know what to do with herself. Still raw from Helena’s interference, she didn’t trust her any more than yesterday, but sitting with her in the late morning light, the girl looked older, more mature, and calm, at least for the moment. And sad, so very sad.

  Bryce broke the silence. “I was two,” he said, “maybe younger. I was building block towers with Aiden. And then the white coats came, and he got so scared, but he went with them anyway. When he came back, he was bruised all over and wouldn’t look at me.” Bryce frowned. “He didn’t cry. Not one tear.”

  “What did they do to him?” Helena asked.

  Bryce shrugged. “What they did to all of us. They called it ‘regeneration testing.’ They hurt us, and timed how long it took us to heal.”

  Sinna rubbed the scar she’d always had but never knew why. “I remember, I think.” She rewound her memories, past the pitch-black shaft, past the monsters and the man dying below her, back to a long hallway with flashing red lights. To a lab with computers and equipment, and a gurney with restraints. The memory was hazy with snatches of conversation and jumbled words she hadn’t understood, but she remembered Gerry standing over her. She remembered the slice of a scalpel. It’d been like a tickle at first, but when the pain had come, it had been agonizing. “They cut me, but I didn’t heal.”

  “You were too young,” Bryce said.

  “I was too human.”

  “I remember Desiree.” Helena stared at the table, unseeing. “I must have been a baby, but I remember her. She’d come to my room and rock me to sleep. And I remember how Klaus would scream at her when he found her there, and I remember crying when she cried.

  “I remember the night we left; Mother took me ran, and for part of the way, Desiree was right there with us. Then suddenly, she wasn’t and…I hurt, and I couldn’t stop crying. Mother tried to rock me to sleep, but it felt so wrong, I just cried harder. I didn’t want her; I didn’t know her. I wanted Desiree. And she was gone.

  “When I was old enough to understand, Mother told me Desiree had been sick so she had to stay behind, but probably hadn’t lasted long enough to miss us. Somehow, I never believed her.” Helena looked up, gaze sharp with intent. “Understand, I will get my sister back if she’s alive.”

  Bryce opened his mouth to reply, but Sinna beat him to it. “We’ll help you,” she said, “if you help us.”

  Helena leaned back and crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”

  Sinna and Bryce took turns explaining about Aiden and the Haven situation, told her about the defenses, the guards and the weapons, and Helena nodded every once in a while, absorbing it without concern. Then Bryce told her about the converts.

  “They’re different. Whatever Klaus was doing changed them. They don’t recognize our scent as a deterrent anymore.”

  “More like a lure,” Sinna chimed in. “The way they came after us, it was like we were the tastiest meal they ever smelled.”

  “How many?”

  “Too many,” Bryce replied. “Could have been over a hundred. And they hunt together.”

  Helena whistled. “That, my friends, is what we call a pickle. Well.” She slapped her knees and stood. “We’re gonna need a hell of a lot more than a few blades and some food, that’s for sure. I’ll go talk to the smithy and see what he can spare. You two hang tight. Our departure just got postponed.”

  After Helena had left, Sinna absently twirled a hardboiled egg on the table. Suddenly being alone with Bryce felt different; the silence was strained, and they couldn’t seem to find anything to talk about, as if all of the important things had already been laid out while Helena was there. Now that she was gone, there was nothing left to say.

  “I’m going to go practice my archery,” she said. Yes, good plan. It would give her something else to focus on, and she’d need it for what lay ahead of them, anyway. If she was busy shooting arrows into bales of hay, she wouldn’t have time to feel awkward around the man she’d slept with—in the most literal sense.

  Bryce nodded. “Good. You should. I’ll go see about transportation. We might need something to carry extra weapons to the mule.”

  “You don’t think we should bring it here to load up?”

  “It’s pretty beat up. I don’t want to risk adding extra miles to it. Who knows if it’ll even last us back to Haven?”

  “Oh. Right. You’re right, of course.” She smiled, but it felt strange.

  What was wrong with her? This was Bryce!

  Nope. The Bryce she’d met two weeks ago wasn’t the same one sitting across from her now.

  “Okay, well, I’m gonna go.” She should probably get out of this dress, too; it made her feel naked, and based on the reactions last night, women didn’t wear things like this anymore. Practical trumped pretty, every time. A shame, though. Sinna kind of liked the pretty.

  When she stood, Bryce shoved to his feet. “Before you go, I want to say something.”

  Sinna blinked. “Okay. What is it?”

  Bryce stepped forward and reached for her. Sinna gasped when he caught her face in his hands, and then his mouth was on hers, and he was kissing her. Sinna froze. His tongue licking along her mouth ripped a small sound from her, and her hands drifted up to his chest and stayed there, unsure whether she wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

  Bryce stopped and pulled back a fraction, just enough to separate, but his breath seared her, made her dizzy with want. Her fingers curled into his shirt and clutched tightly, knees locked to stay upright. He eased his hold on her, caressing her cheek with his thumb as he shifted to cradle the back of her head. When his lips found hers again, it was slower, gentler. He coaxed her to t
rust him, drew her into his frame and took her weight, teased her mouth to open and didn’t go further until she met him halfway.

  Sinna drank in the sensation of being held so close, of being kissed this way, like having a silent promise branded into her lips. Bryce was holding her together, and somehow it felt like he needed it just as much.

  When he finally pulled away, it was with lingering touches, nuzzling against her cheek to whisper at her ear, “Just so we’re clear.”

  Sinna nodded, lacking breath enough to speak.

  Bryce smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners, and she realized she’d never seen him do that before. It was like seeing the sun rise for the very first time, and it did something funny to her insides.

  Then he gently set her away and walked out of the cottage.

  50: Bryce

  Amazing how quickly things change. One day you’ve got Rob Zombie on your mind, and the next Bob Marley sings that every little thing is gonna be all right.

  Aiden would approve. He always says everyone needs a song in their heart, and if they don’t have one, they’re not worth the bother.

  I miss him.

  Wonder what he’s singing now.

  ~

  Bryce found Sarge by the gate, overseeing the preparations. Four of his men took supplies from the ant-line of people contributing generously to Helena’s departure and sorted them into categories—food and water, clothing, tools, and weapons. What the town had gathered would last the three of them a month.

  Sarge noticed Bryce looking things over, and left his station to join him. “Do you approve?” he asked. His tone said he did not.

  “Seems excessive,” Bryce said.

  Sarge made a thoughtful sound. “I expected you to ask for more.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “You’re right. Let’s take a walk.”

  Sarge set a brisk, measured pace—the march of a trained soldier who knew where he was going, and planned to get there. Bryce matched him, curious to see what this was about.

  “You’ll forgive Matron’s absence today. She is not feeling well enough to entertain, and asked me to take charge in her stead.”

  Entertain?

  “Your display last night was quite impressive; Matron was beside herself for hours. And then Helena’s decision sent her into hysterics.”

  “She already knew Helena was leaving.”

  “She did. What she didn’t know is that Helena won’t be coming back.”

  Bryce stopped in his tracks. “Say again?”

  Sarge pivoted on his heels to face him. “When Helena leaves, it will be for good.” He inclined his head for Bryce to keep going. “Naturally, this changes things quite a bit.”

  You got that right! She’d better not expect them to adopt her.

  Bryce followed Sarge past the livestock pens and into the stables. The horses were out, stalls already clean and scattered with fresh hay. Sarge stopped at the end of the open corridor and nodded ahead.

  On the far side of the lake, by the wall and safely out of the way, Sinna nocked an arrow and drew back, just like Bryce had taught her. Her face was pinched with concentration as she sighted down the shaft. Her target was at least a hundred yards away, and once she had it in her sights, she lifted the bow several degrees higher, and loosed. She hit the target, but clearly not well enough for her liking, and she stomped her foot, nocking another arrow.

  “Are you fond of your companion?” Sarge asked. He wasn’t looking at Sinna.

  Bryce followed his gaze to the wall running along Hopetown’s perimeter. Two guards stood on the catwalk a fair distance off, relaxed enough, but each had an arrow to a bow string, their eyes on Sinna. “What is this?”

  “This is a message from Matron. Like I said, your display last night left an impression. Your honor is in question, especially where Helena’s safety is concerned. In short, Matron doesn’t trust you to keep her safe. It has been suggested that we keep your companion as collateral—”

  Bryce growled. “Didn’t work out so well for the last people who tried.”

  Sarge smiled and inclined his head. “Yes, well, now that Helena’s decided not to come back, it wouldn’t have done us much good, anyway. I have been instructed to tell you there will be others joining you on this trip. And if they don’t like what they see, their orders are to aim for your friend.”

  Bryce cracked his knuckles. He had no patience for threats, veiled or otherwise. Under different circumstances, he would’ve already twisted Sarge’s head off. But these weren’t different circumstances. The more you have, the more you have to lose.

  “You don’t want me as an enemy,” he said, keeping a tight leash on his temper.

  “Naturally, I don’t, no. Which is why we’re talking right now. If you keep your word and look after Helena the same way you do her”—he pointed to Sinna—“then we don’t have an issue. It’s that simple.”

  “Is that your position?”

  “It is.”

  “Fair enough. Now allow me to demonstrate mine.” He pulled out the handgun he’d strapped on earlier and fired two shots in rapid succession. There was a reason Aiden put Bryce on the big gun wherever they went. He was the best; a killer by nature. But this time he chose not to kill the archers.

  The first shot struck one of the guards in the thigh, and he dropped his bow and sagged against the wall, clutching at the bleeding wound.

  The second bullet grazed the other guard’s head and knocked him out. He tumbled headlong to land in the lake. Sinna saw him fall and, as Bryce knew she would, raced to his aid. She dragged him out of the water, checked his pulse, then shouted for help while she administered CPR.

  Sarge said nothing, but he was tense, shoulders back, chest up, jaw twitching. Bryce should have left it at that, but for once in his life, he needed to say something. Not just for Sarge, but for himself. And for once, he knew exactly the right words. “Pay attention. Did you see how she looked at both of your archers before she dragged that one out? How she’s keeping an eye on the other? She knows she’s saving someone who would have killed her, but she’s doing it anyway. See, Sinna doesn’t stop to decide who deserves to be saved. She just does it. It’s who she is, how she thinks. She’s what you and I will never be, no matter how long we live. She is good.”

  Sarge jerked to make a move.

  Bryce caught his arm in a punishing grip and felt the bone creak just short of snapping. He could break it so easily; a few pounds of pressure was all it would take. Just a few more, and he could crush it beyond repair. But this wasn’t about him or his desire to make the man cry tears of blood. This was about Sinna. Tearing his gaze away from her made the feral part of him rise almost to the surface. Bryce knew his eyes had gone pale, catching light in the shadowy corridor; he knew, because when Sarge met his gaze, his pupils dilated with sheer, unadulterated terror.

  “Now,” Bryce said, “I know a soldier like you will misunderstand the message I’m trying to send here, so let me spell it out for you. If your people want to make themselves a walking banquet for converts, that’s their choice. But if their yummy scent brings the horde down on her, I swear to you I will slaughter them all and make a trail of their innards all the way to your front door.”

  Bryce released Sarge, and the soldier stumbled back with a pained gasp. “Do we understand each other?”

  Sarge gave a clipped nod, pivoted around, and marched away, rubbing his arm.

  The townspeople carried their injured soldiers away, leaving Sinna by herself, holding one of the guards’ bows, an arrow still on its string. She peered up at the places where the guards had stood, then searched for the origin of each shot. The moment her gaze landed on the stables, she dropped the bow and headed right for them. Clever girl.

  Bryce turned to head back, but people had begun to pour in from the other side to see what had happened. So many shoved and tripped into Bryce, he growled and ducked into one of the stalls to get out of the traffic.

  David stragg
led, trying to shoo the children away, while craning his neck to see the commotion. He and Sinna met in front of Bryce’s stall at the same time and Bryce shifted farther out of sight.

  “What happened?” David asked.

  “Have you seen Bryce?” She sounded annoyed.

  “Uh, no.”

  Bryce couldn’t see them, but their scents told him plenty. Anxiety left a bittersweet aftertaste on his tongue. Not as sharp as fear, but it lingered longer.

  Sinna huffed, footsteps muffled on stomped dirt as she tried to get past David.

  He stopped her. “Whoa, slow down. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “No. Not really. Something’s going on and... Forget it. I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

  Bryce moved a few inches to the side. From that position, he could see Sinna’s hair through the gap between the stall door and wall. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, rising up on tiptoe to look over David’s shoulder. Let her go, he thought, silently compelling David to get the fuck out of the way.

  “I don’t mind.” There was a shrug in David’s voice but it wasn’t careless. And he still hadn’t moved. “So, I guess you won’t be staying, huh? Because you could, you know. There’s plenty of everything to go around. You’d fit right in. It’d be like old times. I mean, before. I mean... You know what I mean.”

  Bryce clenched his teeth until his jaw cramped, waiting for Sinna to answer.

  “I can’t,” she said, her posture stiffening. Had she picked up on the same eagerness Bryce had heard? She must have. No female was that oblivious.

  “Yeah, I get it, you’re all grr now, too good for the likes of us.” David chuckled, but the sentiment still came across as bitter.

  “It’s not that,” Sinna said. “This place is amazing, really. But it’s not for us.”

  Us. Not me—us. Bryce’s animosity eased a bit.

  “It could be,” David pushed. Could he not take the hint? “You could make a home here. Start over, make a new family.” She said no, friend. Let her go and move on. But no, he had to go and lay it on extra thick. “We’re the last ones, you and I. There’s no one left from the city. I know it’s a stupid thing to say and there’s no chance in hell of anything, I get that, but I just wanted to say that I—”