Blood of the Pack

by Jenny Frame

  Most packs in the world had websites you could log into if you were a member. This kept pack members connected and updated with all their news. Zaria found a computer geek a few years ago who helped her hack into the Wolfgang site. She logged in now, and the Wolfgang website popped up. She took a sip of soup and clicked on the Wolfgang Academy page. She smiled when she saw a picture of the high school football team posing with a trophy. They had just won the championship, and all had happy smiling faces.

  It was worth it. All her sacrifice, it was worth it.

  Zaria was interrupted by a banging of the door. “Zaria! Your rent’s two weeks late.”

  Her stomach twisted with tension. How was she going to get out of this one? She had spent everything paying her internet bill. Zaria hurried over to the door and said, “I just need some more time, Mr. Raymond.”

  “Open the door now, Zaria, or I’ll use my key,” Mr. Raymond said.

  Zaria reluctantly opened the door, and the large, sleazy guy pushed his way in and shut the door behind him.

  “Where’s my money?” he said.

  Zaria was disgusted. She always felt him watching her and mentally undressing her, and there was nothing she feared more. She had felt those looks before, and they’d frightened the life out of her.

  “Can you wait till Friday, Mr. Raymond? I get paid then,” Zaria said.

  “Friday is too late. Pay now or you’re out.”

  Zaria zeroed in on the beads of sweat on his top lip and they made her stomach growl. She had to get him out.

  “Please, Mr. Raymond. I need this room. I can pay you extra on Friday. Please?”

  The greasy looking man gave her a cruel smile and started to back her against the wall. Zaria’s wolf started to scratch and demand she do something, but she knew if she did, her cover was blown. She had to calm this down.

  “Mr. Raymond—”

  He grasped her lightly by the throat. “If you’re nice to me, you can stay. Can you make Ray feel good?”

  Zaria’s wolf raged at the touch of his sweaty hand. “Step back or I will hurt you,” Zaria warned.

  He just laughed and squeezed her throat. “I’ve wanted you since you first came here, little girl, and it’s time to pay.”

  Zaria saw the fear in his eyes as he saw her start to shift. He screamed as she growled, snapped the arm he held her with, and pushed him across the room so hard, he hit the other wall and was knocked out cold.

  Zaria panted heavily and wiped the blood off her partially shifted mouth. She had to get out of here—he would wake up soon, and she would be found out. Zaria couldn’t kill, it wasn’t in her nature, so running was her only option.

  She gathered up her things quickly and leapt out of the window to the street below. Zaria was running again, but running away would always be her life.

  * * *

  Dante Wolfgang grabbed her suit jacket and ran downstairs to the basement of their house. She thought she would find her daughter down there. The basement of the Alpha’s den housed her war room, a place where Dante and her elite wolves met to discuss pack business and security.

  As her oldest child and the strongest of her age group, Dion was the future Alpha of the Wolfgang pack. Such a task was a heavy burden to carry when you were young, as Dante knew from her own childhood. At fifteen and going through the rush, the werewolf equivalent of puberty, knowing you had such a big future ahead of you, and such great responsibility, didn’t make growing up any easier.

  Dante found Dion coming down here more and more and sitting and thinking at the large oak table, contemplating her future, no doubt, and full of self-doubt as Dante had been. She had started to invite Dion to some of the more mundane meetings just to give her the flavour of the job, and Dion loved it.

  She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and watched her daughter gazing at the coat of arms hung on one wall. Dion was almost Dante’s double, and sometimes she could burst with the pride in her heart, not only for Dion but her whole family—Meghan, a few years younger, and then Conan, her one-year-old son.

  But for the last few months her pride was tinged with guilt. The Lupa pack, led by their Alpha Leroux, had attacked the heart of their pack, her mate, Eden, and they had lost the cub she was carrying. Dante felt like a failure for not finding Leroux and making her pay, but there had been no leads—the Lupas had disappeared. None of her wolves who had been sent out on reconnaissance, or humans she had offered money to, knew of the Lupas whereabouts. But they couldn’t hide forever.

  Dion looked around and smiled. “Hi, Pater.”

  Dante walked over and stood beside her daughter. “Ricky called. She finally got her delayed connecting flight, so we need to leave for the airport, if you still want to come.”

  “Yeah, I can’t wait to see Ricky. She’s so cool.”

  Dante chuckled. Her cousin Kenrick was five years younger than her. With the different style of the Wulvers and younger dress sense, Kenrick was the peak of dominant wolf cool for Dion.

  Kenrick’s father was a first cousin of her own father, and they grew up sharing summers together. Sometimes Dante would visit the Wulvers, and other times Kenrick and her brother would visit them here in Wolfgang County. They had such fun together, but this visit was about more than pleasure. Kenrick’s life was about to change, and Dante was going to help her.

  Dante ran her hand reverently over the wood and steel coat of arms. In the centre was a wolf’s head in the middle of a Celtic cross. Around it were arranged the symbols of all the ancient British and Irish packs of which the Wolfgangs descended.

  All the cubs of the Wolfgang pack were brought up with the stories of the Wolfgangs’ ancient beginnings, but Dante wanted Dion to grasp how important it was to them.

  “Tell me our story, Dion.”

  Dion reached out and touched the wolf in the centre. “When the first wolf pack arrived in Britain millennia ago, they formed four packs in ancient Britain and Ireland, so that our kind could colonize every part of the land. There were the Wulvers,”—Dion touched the symbol of the silver sword, then moved her hand to the ancient Irish axe—“the Irish Filtiaran pack, the English Ranwulfs represented by their shield, and the Welsh Blaidds.” She finished by touching the Welsh symbol of a spear.

  “And what happened then?” Dante asked.

  “War came to our paranormal world, between vampires, witches, fae, and shapeshifters, and then humans hunted us through fear. The packs had a grand council between them and they asked for volunteers to build packs in the New World, so our bloodline, our ancient beginnings, would survive.”

  Dante put her arm around Dion and gave her a squeeze. “No wonder you got an A in history. That’s right, and we are one of the North American packs descended from those gallant pioneers. Luckily the ancient packs in Britain survived and grew, keeping our wider family of werewolves strong. That’s why I and all the Alphas before me have had this coat of arms on our wall. It’s to remind us where we came from, to remind us we are from something greater than ourselves. We share our blood with these packs, and we draw from their traditions.”

  Dante turned around and put both hands on Dion’s shoulders. “But the most important thing to remember is that because we share blood, the Wolfgangs are never alone in this world. The blood of our pack bonds us together in a way that cannot be defeated. That thought always gave me comfort when I was awed at the thought of leading the pack. Remember that, Dion. You will never be alone.”

  Dion smiled and seemed a lot less tense at that thought. “Thanks, Pater. I understand and I won’t ever forget.”

  “Let’s go and get Ricky then.”

  As they walked upstairs, Dante thought of the Lupas. Some pack historians believed if you went back far enough, all werewolves shared ancestry, but that was a long time ago. The Lupas arrived in America from an Eastern European pack and had immediately begun to fight for the Wolfgangs’ bountiful territory. They seemed to have jealousy and destruction in their bones.

  I will f
ind you, Leroux, Dante vowed.

  Chapter Two

  Zaria had hidden as best she could on the edge of town for most of the night. To any passer-by she just looked like another rough sleeper, not a werewolf hiding from the police. She hadn’t slept a wink worrying about what-ifs, hoping she hadn’t killed Mr. Raymond. Even though what he had planned for her was abhorrent, Zaria despised violence and knew only too well what it had cost her and her family.

  She hid behind a building across the street from the diner, waiting for Chrissy to arrive and open up. Zaria had to get her wages and get out of Knoxton as soon as possible. She grasped the haematite stone pendent she wore around her neck and closed her eyes. The pendent had been passed down the submissive line of her family for generations, and in her darkest moments it gave her courage, strength, and hope, as the stone was meant to.

  Zaria saw Chrissy pull up in the parking lot at last. She waited until Chrissy got in and hurried across the road. When she entered the diner, Chrissy jumped.

  “Jesus, Zaria. You nearly gave me a heart attack. You’re not due in for another hour.”

  Zaria walked to the diner counter but kept glancing outside nervously. “I need to leave town, Chrissy. I’m sorry to let you down, but something really important has come up.”

  Chrissy looked her up and down, obviously seeing her dishevelled appearance. “Is everything all right, honey? Are you in trouble?”

  “No, no. I just need to leave. I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch—you’ve been so kind to me. Could I have my pay?”

  Chrissy pulled her into a hug. “Sure. It’s been nice working with you. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

  “I’ll try,” Zaria said.

  “Give me a second and I’ll get the cash out of the safe.”

  While Chrissy went into the office, Zaria opened up the local newspaper she had brought in. Her stomach dropped when she saw the front page.

  Local businessman Eric Raymond was attacked last night and left for dead. Witness heard screams and growls, and doctors say his injuries were consistent with an animal attack.

  “Terrible, isn’t it?” Chrissy’s voice made her jump.

  “Terrible,” Zaria replied.

  “Makes you wonder who or what got into his apartment building.”

  “Yeah.” Zaria caught sight of a black car with blacked-out windows pulling into the lot, and her instinct told her she was in danger.

  “Can I have the money? I have to go,” Zaria said.

  Chrissy frowned, seeing Zaria nervousness. “You are in trouble, aren’t you?”

  Zaria looked back outside and saw two big dominant wolves get out of the car, one male and one female.

  “I’m sorry, Chrissy. I need to go out the back.” Zaria grabbed the wages envelope and ran through the kitchen to the back door. It was locked and Chrissy had the keys, so she used her strength and shouldered the door out.

  Zaria stepped outside and scented werewolf coming from behind. She started to run but was grabbed around the waist and pulled to the ground.

  She fought and tried to break the male wolf’s hold but he was too strong. He pinned her down and smiled at her.

  “We’ve been looking for you for a long, long time, little wolf. You’ll make a perfect prize for my Alpha and pack second.”

  She spat in his face. “Over my dead body.”

  His face and claws partially shifted, and he clawed down the side of her face. “That could be arranged.”

  The female wolf came around the corner and said, “Stop playing with her, and let’s get her in the car and get out of here.”

  They carried her kicking and screaming around to the front of the diner. Zaria saw Chrissy with her phone to her ear, probably phoning the police.

  “Run, Chrissy, run,” Zaria shouted in vain.

  The female wolf opened up the trunk of the car and she was thrown in there. “Maybe this will shut you up, bitch,” the male wolf snarled.

  He put silver manacles around her wrists, so she couldn’t use her strength to burst open the trunk.

  “No!” She screamed but was soon engulfed in darkness in a confined space. There was nothing she hated more than a confined space. Wolves needed wide-open space to feel calm, and the burning silver leeching the strength from her body made her situation worse.

  This was hell, but she felt even worse when she heard one of them say, “Get ready to go, I’ll go and get rid of the human.”

  Zaria hit the trunk lid, but her arms and legs felt like lead weights. “Don’t hurt her!”

  * * *

  Kenrick finally got through immigration. Apparently she looked suspicious, but when they realized she was a Wulver of the Wulver beverage dynasty, it was decided she wasn’t a threat. She’d had to keep tight control of her wolf. After a prolonged journey, she was frustrated enough as it was, but to be kept waiting in an interview room answering stupid questions was nearly enough for her wolf to bite the immigration guy’s head off.

  Kenrick slung on her rucksack and pushed her bags on the luggage trolley through to the airport entrance. She couldn’t wait to see her American family. The Wulvers shared family bonds with all the Western European wolves, but she’d always felt a special kinship with the Wolfgangs, and especially Dante and Caden.

  She saw Dante and Dion waving from the other side of the entrance area. She smiled and waved back. Kenrick loved cubs, and Dante and Eden’s were amazing to be around and play with. As she walked over to Dante, that ever-present knot of stress returned to her stomach. Dante in her professional looking designer suit looked every inch the Alpha of the Wolfgang pack, and then she looked at herself. Ripped jeans, black T-shirt with skulls and gothic designs, and heavy black boots—how could she ever be like Dante?

  But that was why she was here. In a month her father was stepping down as Alpha of the Wulver pack, no longer the strongest and most dominant wolf in the pack. That was now Kenrick, and the pack and business would be handed over to her. Doubts had been plaguing her since her father made the announcement that it was time to enjoy his retirement.

  Since leaving school, she had worked in the hands-on, physical labour side of the business, maintaining the forest and the fish stock in Wulver Loch, and working on site at the Wulver bottling and distillery plant.

  Kenrick enjoyed her life, but now she had to step into the office and run the business side and take leadership of the pack. Dante had made the same transition when her father died, and Kenrick’s father thought spending time with Dante and shadowing her in business would give her confidence in her abilities.

  Dion ran the last few yards to her and hugged her. “Hi, Ricky.”

  “Hi, Wolf, you get bigger every time I see you,” Kenrick said.

  “Your T-shirt is totally cool,” Dion gushed.

  Kenrick pointed to Dion’s which had a rock bands album cover on it. “Cheers. Yours is too. I love that band.”

  Dante walked over and joked, “They give me a headache.”

  She opened her arms to Kenrick, but Kenrick thumped her chest in salute first in respect, then hugged her cousin.

  Dante said, “You don’t have to do that. We’re equals now.”

  “Not for another month,” Kenrick said trying to put some distance to her new life that awaited.

  “It’s great to see you, Ricky. You’re looking good. Dion? Push the luggage trolley for Ricky.”

  “Sure, Pater.” Dion walked a few steps ahead of them.

  “It’s good of you and Eden to have me, Dante,” Kenrick said.

  “We’re glad to have you. You’re always welcome.”

  Kenrick felt she had to say something but didn’t want to upset Dante. She lowered her voice so Dion wouldn’t hear her. “How is Eden? Mum, Pater, and I were so sad to hear about your cub.”

  Dante looked at her, and Kenrick was sure she saw Dante’s eyes fill up, but she quickly gulped the emotion away.

  “She’s doing much better. The body heals but the mind and heart take
longer,” Dante said.

  Kenrick shook her head. “The Lupas have never been happy with peace, but to come into your land and attack submissive wolves is the height of cowardice.” Kenrick stopped Dante and put a hand on her shoulder. “You know the Wulvers stand with you always. If you need anything, any wolves or help, it’s yours.”

  Dante smiled and clasped the back of Kenrick’s neck. “I always know that. Thank you.”

  When they broke away from their clinch, they laughed when the humans passing them by stared.

  Dante said with amusement, “Humans aren’t accustomed to close contact are they?”

  Wolves needed contact with each other, both dominants and submissives. That’s how they were brought up, and there was no awkwardness.

  They continued walking and got to the door of the airport. “How’re Caden and Lena? Is Caden coping with having a pregnant mate?”

  Dante laughed. “She’s a bag of nerves and is driving Lena crazy, so I hear. The cub’s due any day now.”

  “It must be nice,” Kenrick said wistfully.

  They reached the parking lot and began the drive to Wolfgang County. Kenrick shifted uncomfortably in the front seat of Dante’s Jeep Cherokee. It seemed like years since she had let her wolf run free.

  “Your wolf restless?” Dante said with a smile.

  “Aye, just a bit.”

  “Well, we’ll be back at the house in about an hour, and then Dion will take you out to the forest. You can run a bit of that teenage energy off her.”

  Kenrick laughed. She remembered how crazy the rush made her feel at that age. When Kenrick was going through it, she didn’t have a girlfriend to test out those early feelings with. It made her even more restless.

  Dion sat forward and popped her head between the two front seats. “Yeah, come with me, Ricky. I’ll show you all my favourite places.”

  “I’d love to. How’s school going, Dion?” Kenrick asked.

  “Great, we just won the football championship,” Dion replied.