Howl for Me

by Lynn Red

  “Do we ever have to stop doing this?” I asked, still catching my breath.

  Damon’s face grew a little tight, but he smiled, anyway.

  “Unfortunately,” he said, “Yeah. But not today. Late in the third trimester.” For a second, we both laughed. God that felt good.

  “What about Devin?” I asked, propping myself up on an elbow, and trying not to reach down and stroke him again. “Doesn’t Poko need help with him?”

  “I think,” Damon said with a sigh, “that Poko mostly needs help because he wants to make me feel needed. But, he said he’d need a day or two to help Devin back to some kind of health. He got this dust stuff all over him, and,” he paused for a second. “Look, I’d rather not think about it right now. Is that okay?”

  I nodded and kissed his jaw.

  “I’m just glad you’re home,” I said. “Husband.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Just trying it out,” I looked up at him, smiling. “It still doesn’t seem real sometimes, but…”

  I squealed, when he pulled me on top of him.

  “It is,” he said, kissing me. “It really is. How long are Hunter and Cat gonna be gone?”

  He had a wicked, naughty grin.

  “So, I guess, you’re not as tired as you look?” I asked, and kissed his neck, already feeling him swell underneath me.

  “Tired I definitely am,” he said. “But, I’m not gonna waste this. Not a chance in the world.”

  His sliding into me, his movement, his breath and his kisses; it was all enough to take me to the brink, and over, two, three more times. When we were both finally tired enough to keep our hands off each other, I ran a bath for Damon and helped him wash off the road, and the pain. I’d do anything I could to help him relax, because I knew it wasn’t going to last.

  With us, it never did. Rest never came easy, and it never stayed.

  So, like Damon said, I wasn’t gonna waste a second. Not one, single moment.

  -11-

  Poko’s cave was, honestly, the last place I wanted to go. Not because I didn’t want to see Poko, but because it meant that reality was back.

  Damon, Hunter, Cat and I, spent most of the last two days together. There was a lot of laughing, a lot of storytelling – mostly, Damon and Hunter trying to out-embarrass each other – and a whole lot beer. It doesn’t sound like much, but in our world, those little breaks from the other stuff that fills our time are a blessing.

  We left Cat at the apartment she’d rented, when she decided to stop being her dad’s heir and start making her life on her own. She had work later on, which was good, because as badly as I didn’t want to see Devin, I’m sure she had even less interest.

  “Is everything going to be okay?” I asked out loud, not really sure where the question was aimed.

  Seeing as how neither of the boys answered, I’m guessing they were both just as uneasy about the whole thing as I was.

  “It’ll work out,” Damon finally said, in his super-serious voice. “Things just kinda do for us, right?”

  He said the words, but I could tell he wasn’t feeling them. I nodded anyway. And Hunter looked over at me, running his tongue along his bottom lip. He tilted his head toward the cave.

  “So, this is where he lives?” Hunter asked.

  Hunter got out of the Suburban and looked more than a little stunned.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to meet the elder alpha of the pack, man. This is nuts. And he lives in a cave. This is all just…”

  Damon slapped him on the back and half-laughed.

  “It’ll be fine. He’s a little strange, and he talks to spirits that no one else can see, but he’s…”

  Damon and I exchanged a quick glance.

  “He’s certainly fascinating,” Damon said, with a grin. “But no, don’t worry about it. We’re about to go on one hell of a ride.”

  He got really seriously, really quickly.

  “Guys,” he said, and we both stopped dead in our tracks. “I need to warn you. I don’t know what’s going on out there, past what Devin and I came across.”

  “I’ll kill the son of a bitch,” Hunter said. “He had to have something to do with you getting jumped, and for what he did to Cat, I’ll—”

  Damon grabbed his friend’s shoulder.

  “You won’t do a single goddamn thing. You’re about to see a scarred, broken, and honestly, pretty sad sight. He might be an alpha in name, but he certainly doesn’t look like one. And the other thing is, I’m not even sure the Carak exist, anymore. When I was out in the swamps, I couldn’t find a single one.”

  “The bodies,” I said hollowly. “I’ve… I know where they are.”

  “What? Bodies?” Damon asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve seen them.” My voice was a dried-out whisper. “When Poko and I were doing my practice with the spirit vision. I was looking for you, and found some kind of camp in a swamp. There were bodies piled up.”

  I had a long, distant, cold stare.

  “Poko said it was the Carak. And then, when I saw Joram Blight, this old as hell werewolf, with gray skin and long, brittle, white braids on either side of his face – and he was half-shifted too, like he couldn’t be not like that – Poko wouldn’t let me look anymore. He said it was too dangerous.” I took a breath.

  Damon and I exchanged a long look.

  “I… I think we should just go see what Poko has to say,” he said, not looking away from me. “And Hunter?”

  Hunter spat on the ground.

  “I’ll stay away from him, Damon. I’m not going to do anything. But only because you, my brother, told me not to kill him. Anyone else, I wouldn’t give a shit. No one does that kind of thing to an innocent girl. He doesn’t deserve to live.”

  Damon nodded.

  “Thanks.” He said. “To be honest, he’s so out of his mind that I’m not entirely sure he even knows who he is anymore. Whatever that Blight guy did, he really, really screwed with Devin’s head. With the way he was grumbling and moaning and carrying on, yeah, I don’t know.”

  *

  “This is just… crazy,” Hunter kept saying, running his hands along the walls of the cave, stopping to look at little cave drawings that dotted the way back.

  Further and further we went, escaping the daylight into the belly of Poko’s cave. Soon we were welcomed by the distant, orange glow of Poko’s ever-burning fire.

  “Holy shit,” I said, clapping my hand over my mouth. Rounding the final curve, I saw something in a heap on the floor.

  “Told you,” Damon said, looking back at me with a wry grin. He stepped over his brother, and shoved Hunter forward. I couldn’t stop staring.

  Devin hardly moved, but what little he did do was halting, jerky, and from the way he moaned, it hurt like absolute hell.

  “Oh, ho, who is it you’ve brought me? No, no,” Poko said, somehow pushing himself to his feet, and leaning heavily on his twisted cane. “Don’t tell me…”

  He closed his white eyes, moving his head left and right.

  “Don’t tell me, I said,” he told some unseen participant in the conversation. “I know this one.”

  The old, blind wolf reached out and ran his hands along Hunter’s face.

  “He’s familiar. He’s strong. Damon, are you sure you have only one brother?” Poko chuckled under his breath. “In truth, this one looks more like you, than the one on my floor. Seems more upright, as well.”

  It was absolutely wonderful to watch Hunter stiffen and tremble. I guess it would be like me meeting David Duchovny. But as Poko ran his old fingers along Hunter’s face, Hunter couldn’t keep himself still.

  “It’s so good to meet you, finally, Hunter King,” Poko said, with one of his bizarre, unsettling, tight-lipped smiles. “Damon has told me a great deal about you, and him, when you were children. Or rather, he didn’t know he did, but in the few seconds since you walked in, he has given it all away.”

  “It’s… Sir, it’s an honor, uh
to meet you, I…”

  Poko’s shoulders shook. He was trying as best he could to keep himself from laughing.

  “My son,” he said patiently, “I’m no reason to get excited. I’m just an old wolf.”

  “You’re,” Hunter’s voice got distant, and quiet. “A legend.”

  “Yes, well.” Poko did something I never imagined he would – he got a cocky, almost smug, look on his face. “I suppose I am.”

  Damon and Hunter both stared at him for a second, mouths hanging open, before he started to laugh.

  “There’s no reason to be so dour all the time. Bad things have happened, are happening, will happen, but why not laugh?” Poko opened his milk-white eyes as he shuffled nearer. “I’m who I am, and I graciously thank you for the compliment, child, but we have far more important business to which to attend, than how wonderful I am, or am not.”

  “What’s wrong with Devin?” I asked, absolutely shattering the gentle calm that had settled over the four of us. “He’s… twitching.”

  “Ah, yes, that’s been the case. Damon, or Hunter one of you help me over there.” Poko said.

  Both Hunter and Damon took an arm, slowly guiding the old man over to the twitching lump on the ground.

  “Silver dust,” he said, reaching down and running his hands along Devin’s jaw. “Of course, from where it came? That’s a bit of a mystery.”

  “It was from the guys that attacked us,” Damon said. “I guess I should have said something.”

  Poko shook his head. “No, no. You were eager to get home to Lily. I didn’t want to keep you any longer than you were here. But, now that you’re back…”

  After a minute, I jabbed Damon in the ribs.

  “Oh!” he said, with a start. “I found him on the side of the road, like I said, and then we started back. At first it was fine – I mean he was complaining the whole time, and he grumbled stuff about wanting to murder me in his sleep. I had him tied up, so it didn’t matter. The last morning though, when I woke up, he’d escaped.”

  Every time Damon spoke, his jaw clicked a little. It had gotten better over the past couple of days, and I knew that in a few more, he’d be completely healed, but it still hurt me to see the agony on his face.

  “And this is when…?” Poko urged him on.

  “First Devin attacked me, but as we were having it out, the riders showed up.” Damon took a deep breath. “At first they looked like thugs on bikes. It was kind of a blur, honestly, but the first one I knocked on the ground, just sorta exploded. I guess I was far enough away that I didn’t get any of the dust.”

  His eyes fell on Devin, who was still lying there, twitching.

  “Makes sense,” Poko said. “This is… I’m afraid this is the result of a very, very long time underground.”

  Both Damon and Hunter cocked an eyebrow at him. Of course they both made the same facial expressions. I had to giggle a little, despite myself.

  “What we face, Damon, and, I suppose, Hunter – you’re in this now, I hope you realize—”

  Hunter mumbled a very reverent, “Yes, Sir,” and nodded.

  “Is nothing less than the oldest wolf that I know to have existed.” Poko continued. “Joram Blight, I’m sure you’ve heard the name before, is who we’re dealing with. This is a very hard tale to tell. There’s something else you need to know first.”

  “What’s so complicated about it?” Damon asked. He squeezed his knuckles until they popped. “Old or not, silver hurts all of us. Just tell me where to go and I’ll make damn sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

  “Ah yes,” Poko said, smiling. “The young wolf is eager. But, I warn you – you won’t ever defeat him. Not by yourself, and very likely, not with help. You’ve heard of the cycles, yes?”

  Damon’s eyes went back and forth, which he did, when he was searching for an answer.

  “I… er…”

  Poko shook his head.

  “If only I’d raised you from a pup, as I should have.” The old man smiled longingly, for a moment before continuing.

  “Anyway, our pack – your pack – has gone in three cycles. First came the ancient days, back before writing; before history. The first wolves were like gods, you see? They took on elements of nature, and ordered the universe. These were the times of legend.”

  “Right,” Hunter said, eagerness evident in his voice. “I remember learning about that. And then, they were overthrown by—”

  “Ah! This one knows his history,” Poko said. “By whom, young one?”

  “The…” Hunter’s voice started wobbling.

  It was, I’m not gonna lie, pretty adorable, the way he was acting.

  “Hu… humans? Er, I mean, us, right? The great wolf spirits were overthrown by… were… I’m sorry,” he finally said, with a laugh. “I just can’t get over actually talking to you.”

  “It’s fine, child,” Poko said, patting Hunter’s muscled arm. “But, you’re right. The great wolves were overthrown by us – we, who change our skin. They were ancient and powerful, but we were more cunning. We had tools and hands, and more importantly, we had…?”

  He trailed off, obviously wanting someone to answer.

  “Packs?” Damon guessed.

  “Good!” Poko said, much to Damon’s evident delight, judging from the way his shoulders relaxed. “Yes, we had packs. We were many, instead of few. Where the wolf gods had pride and power, we had numbers and society. That was a thousand-thousand-thousand years ago, when the wolves were thrown to the heavens. There they remain, and here we remain.”

  “Right,” Damon said. “But, what does that have to do with Devin being burned from head to toe? What does it have to do with this Blight guy?”

  “You never did appreciate a circular story, did you? Always to the point.” Poko laughed, detaching himself from the two men flanking him. He shuffled in a circle that was punctuated by the clicks of his cane against the floor of his cave.

  “That cycle, too, ended. After a hundred thousand years, perhaps more – we’ve lost that knowledge to the ages – the Age of Unity ended, as all things do.”

  “Wait, wait!” Hunter excitedly cut in. “I know what’s next.”

  Very patiently, Poko smiled.

  “Go ahead, then.”

  “Y – yeah,” Hunter said. “The Unity. When there was just the one pack. All the wolves were under one king, right? Yeah, well, there were a bunch of tyrants there at the end, instead of the benevolent kings. So they got overthrown, and then the packs all split.”

  He grinned really wide. “Right?”

  “Yes,” Poko said. “I think I’m going to have to hire you to teach the alpha his history lessons, as I’ve apparently failed.”

  Damon lifted his hands defensively. Poko swatted him with his stick.

  “I’m only joking. It’s important to laugh,” he said. “But, what I didn’t say, is that the one who sent the riders after you, the one who has driven your brother quite insane, and has covered him in burning silver dust?”

  “Don’t tell me,” Hunter said. “The last tyrant?”

  Poko’s Cheshire smile said everything for him.

  “The history books call him Jacarth the Eighth. He was, as his name suggests, eighth in his line, and the most terrible ruler that the wolves had ever known. His cruelty was as legendary as the downfall of the gods. His depraved appetites are unrepeatable. And I’m afraid it’s up to you to stop him. I believe he has arisen to try and take back the clans.”

  “But, why?” Damon asked. “Why now?”

  “He feels my life force weaken, I think.” Poko’s mouth hardened into a line. “The spirits, you and me, and everyone on this entire planet, are connected. Humans may not realize it, and most wolves cannot feel it. When you are alone at night, Damon, and you hear whispers, and when you feel the howls chill your bones? Those are the spirits. I know you can speak with them, because you’re of my blood. We are the last of the spirit-speakers.”

  Damon’s eyes went just abo
ut as wide as saucers, but before he could say anything, I piped up.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” I said, finally speaking up. “This is the guy you warned me not to look at, because he could track my thoughts?”

  Poko coughed lightly, and turned his sightless eyes to me. “The very same.”

  “But if I can’t even look at him with my Fae sight, then what makes you think we can possibly win? Kill him, or contain him, or whatever it is we’re supposed to do?”

  Poko began to speak, but I cut him off.

  “Wait a sec,” I said. “What are we supposed to do, anyway? If he’s some million-year-old demigod, how are three, college-aged people supposed to deal with him? I’ve never even shot a gun before!”

  “I’m not so sure a gun would do a great deal of damage to Jacarth, Lily,” Poko said, furrowing his brow. “Though it might be worth a shot. Get it?”

  I groaned. Poko does love his puns.

  “I’m just a little lost on the whole thing. Like, us three are supposed to stop an ancient evil?”

  “Four,” Devin said, from the heap of blankets on the floor. “F…f…four of us? There’s for all the winning! We’re gonna whip his ass. We can? Do it. We can kill that wrestler!”

  “What on earth is he talking about?” I asked Poko. “Has he been like this since Damon left him here?”

  “More or less. He’s becoming more coherent as time goes on.” Poko’s shoulders sagged a little. “I treated his wounds. He should be coming back to his senses, sooner than later. For now, though, he’s suffering from the madness Jacarth put into him.”

  I looked over at Devin, who still made my whole body just about seethe with hate. Looking at him got my stomach in a knot. As he alternated between thrashing around, clawing at his half-bald, scarred head, and then openly weeping, something about his complete helplessness touched a nerve.

  “Is there anything we can do to help him?” I asked. “I mean…”

  I shot a glance to Damon, and then to Hunter.

  “Not because I really care what happens to him,” I said, quickly correcting myself. “But if we’re gonna have to take on this ancient wolf king, we should probably have all the help we can get. Even if it’s him.”