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Shadow's Howl

Page 2

by Riley Storm

Tears streaming down his face, Liam ran out into the night and the shadows beyond.

  3

  Present Day

  This was it.

  The turning point. If she went through with her action today, there would be no going back for Jennifer. No returning to her current life. No warm welcome back, no smiles upon her return. If she went through with her plan, everything would change.

  She lifted her bag, swinging it onto her back. It was heavier than normal, but not overly so. Most of her stuff she was leaving behind in her room. Shrugging it into place on her shoulders, she reached back and tugged her ponytail out of the way, freeing the flaming red hair from under the pack.

  “This is it, Jennifer. No turning back now. Are you sure you want to leave this all behind?”

  Turning, she surveyed her room. As a professor of magic at the North American Mage Academy, she had more room than the students, who were bunked three, four, or six to a room only slightly larger than hers. That didn’t mean it was palatial by any means, but it certainly wasn’t cramped either.

  Her life wasn’t bad. In fact, she mostly enjoyed teaching the newest generation of mages, watching them learn to control and harness the magic flowing through their veins. It was empowering to know she was helping shape their young lives, hopefully for the better.

  But it wasn’t enough. Her eyes strayed to a picture on the nearby table. A younger version of her, fire-engine red hair and all, stood with her arm around an older man with thick black eyebrows.

  I have to do this, she thought, staring at the picture. I don’t have a choice, really. It needs to be done. Somehow has to undo it.

  Snatching up her staff, she pushed magic through it. Although objects like staffs, rods, or other imbued items weren’t necessary for the casting of spells, with the proper runes, they helped to improve and focus the spells, and indeed often made it easier for mages to cast them quickly.

  That wasn’t much of an issue in an Academy setting, but in the real world, sometimes it could be a big help. Now though, she cast a spell she knew so well it was like rote. The air in front of her shimmered and then with a soft pop, a fissure in reality split open.

  On the other side, she could see lush green farmland under a warm summer sky. It looked exactly like her destination was supposed to. Of course, she’d never been there to know for sure, but a satellite photo of the location sufficed just as well for the purposes of her spell. She didn’t need to have been to the destination, just had to know what it looked like.

  “You can do this,” she said when her leg didn’t immediately step forward. “You can do this. You know why you’re doing it. You know it’s the right thing to do. You can do this.”

  Taking in a breath, she fortified herself, tensing her muscles, straightening her spine, trying to appear brave and ready for whatever waited her on the other side.

  “And here, we, go,” she whispered, and stepped through the portal—

  Where she promptly fell flat on her face when her foot didn’t encounter solid ground right away. Groaning, she rolled onto her side. The portal was a solid three feet in the air.

  “Screw you Google Maps,” she muttered, coughing and trying to regain her focus. Apparently, there were some risks with using satellite imagery to focus on the destination end of a portal spell. Such as not necessarily getting herself all the way to ground level.

  Standing up, she brushed off her robe, dirt falling free from the magic-infused garment, leaving nary a mark. Her hands and face on the other hand, were full of evidence of her awkward tumble. Waving her staff, she dismissed the rent.

  The first thing she noted, was the silence. That was odd. Where were the alarms? The shouts and the clattering of feet. This was a well-populated farm, she knew that. Her intelligence was rarely wrong on things like this. So, where the hell was everyone?

  She looked around, taking in her bearings. Had she screwed up? Was this the wrong farm? In the distance, she could see the buildings, several barns, a pair of silos, and a large multi-story ranch house.

  Nope, this is the right one. Somehow, she must have arrived undetected. Taking a moment, she inhaled deep, appreciating the fresh air of the north-east plains. The Academy was in the middle of nowhere on the west coast, and while it was peaceful and picturesque there as well, it was…different.

  “Hey!”

  “Finally,” she muttered as someone noted her presence, and the fact she probably shouldn’t be there. “Hi!” she called as they approached warily.

  The person, a tall, muscular male with classic good looks whistled loudly twice in quick succession. Almost immediately, she heard more shouts. Good.

  What she didn’t expect were the six men who charged out of the ranch house in full combat armor, with weapons pointed directly at her. Not the swords that were the classic weapons of the shifter Houses. No, these were fully automatic rifles, which she knew would be loaded with hollow-point bullets crammed with uranium dust.

  “I’m not here to cause trouble,” she said, digging her staff into the sand and raising her arms above her head. Anytime the Houses brought out uranium-infused weapons it was a good idea to be as meek as possible.

  The radiation those bullets spewed would wreak havoc with any magic she tried to cast, not to mention the damage the bullets themselves would do on impact. They were the nuclear deterrent for just about anything paranormal. Shifters, Mages, Fae, you name it, radiation messed with it. Hard.

  “How the hell does a mage end up here?” one of the armed guards barked.

  “I opened a portal and stepped through,” she said dryly, keeping her arms out to the sides, not making any sudden moves.

  “Why here?”

  “Because I need to talk to Logan,” she said, name-dropping the head of the Canis rebels, the group of shifters resisting their leader.

  Several of them exchanged surprised looks at that.

  “Yes, I know who you are. I know this is home to the rebels, that Logan, former Knight of High House Canis is your alpha, your leader, in the fight against the Tyrant King Laurien and his loyalists. That he is the rightful heir to the throne, if you can depose Laurien. I’m aware of all that. It’s why I’m here,” she said, wondering if they would believe her or not.

  “Right,” the same nameless guard said from behind the rifle, muzzle never wavering. She suspected it was aimed right at her heart. “What the hell does that have to do with you then, mage?”

  She tried not to react at the way he flung the last word at her, like it was something to be ashamed of, as if she was less than them, not worthy. The reaction wasn’t unexpected, but it still didn’t feel that great. Jennifer couldn’t change who she was, or what she could do. She hadn’t chosen to have magic. She’d been born that way, just like all the shifters surrounding her had been born with their animals inside them as well.

  But that was the way of things. Shifters naturally considered themselves the top of the paranormal pecking order, and for the past century or so, that had been the truth. Jennifer knew of times before that, when the Mage Council had been the leading authority in the paranormal world, and she knew many of the older members of the Council longed for a return to that way.

  Old farts. They long for the glory days, but they forgot all the bloodshed that followed. The defeats in the centuries long war with the shifters. All those dead, simply because a few sought power over the many.

  She didn’t support that mentality, and it was one reason she wasn’t completely distraught over the idea of never being able to go back to the Academy if she went through with her current plan. It was a different place now.

  “What it has to do with me,” she growled, not showing any weakness. “Is everything.” She shrugged. “Unless of course, you’ve discovered another way to defeat the Magi of House Canis, that is.” She looked around at the assembled men as more and more of them responded to the growing scene. “Have you?” she challenged.

  Nobody responded right away.

  “I thou
ght not,” she said, trying not to sound too arrogant. She failed. Well, better that than the opposite. “I take it then, you wouldn’t be opposed to some help with that matter?”

  She let her gaze linger on the six armed men for a moment, then let it swing around the rest of the crowd, wondering if any of them was Logan. Nobody moved or spoke up. No looks were exchanged or directed a certain way, leaving her positive Logan wasn’t among them.

  “Well?” she challenged. One of the biggest things that was stressed with shifters was not showing weakness. Ever.

  “I’ll inform Logan of your arrival, mage,” the guard said at last, clear reluctance in his tone.

  “Thank y—”

  “Stay here,” he snarled, interrupting her.

  Jennifer blinked. “Very well,” she agreed as he dropped his rifle and headed back toward the house. “I thought that might be your answer.”

  The rest of the assembled shifters stayed silent, forming a horseshoe of silent judgement around her.

  Jennifer tried to stay strong, tall, not to waver or let fear take over, but it was hard. Very, very hard. Each person out there was stronger than her. Faster than her. Each and every one of them could shift into a half-ton killing machine that could whip her around like a ragdoll, if they so chose.

  She was nervous. Very, very nervous, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

  Except wait.

  “Too bad I’m not very good at that,” she muttered to herself. It was time to take charge.

  4

  “We can do this,” he argued, stabbing a finger at the hand-drawn map on the table. “It can be done. We have the strength now. They’re weakened. It’s time. We can’t sit back and waste this opportunity.”

  Logan looked at him calmly, nodding. “Liam has a point. They are at the weakest they’ve been. We’re at our strongest. The odds have never been more in our favor to attack.” He shrugged. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re strong enough. The defenses of Moonshadow Manor are formidable and many. I should know, I helped redesign and implement many of them. The place is a fortress when it goes into lockdown mode.”

  “So, we hit it before they can enter lockdown mode,” Liam said. “Surprise attack. When they aren’t expecting it. We’re in before the defenses even come into place.”

  “The magic defenses activate instantly the second the alarm is raised,” Lucien pointed out. “One wrong move, and we’re toast. One step to slow, we’re toast. It’s too damn risky. I want it as bad as you do, but we don’t have the strength to take out something like the Manor. Not in a frontal assault.”

  “What do you suggest?” Logan asked of his second in command.

  “A siege. We stop all traffic in and out. All supplies. Everything. Wait them out.”

  “Won’t work,” another voice said from the opposite side of the table.

  “Chief, explain,” Logan said, giving another member of the rebel high command the floor.

  “The Magi,” Chief said bluntly. “He can open portals in and out. Bring in supplies that way. Won’t work and will just expose us. We don’t have the numbers for a proper siege anyway.”

  Lucien nodded, clenching his fist in frustration.

  Not that Liam blamed him. They’d been going on for hours, arguing and counter-arguing, trying to determine what to do. Ever since the loyalist forces had hit them twice within two days, and been defeated in large numbers both times, the rebels had known they had to take advantage of it. Things had never been more in their favor, the numbers of bodies on their side greatly stronger than those of their enemies.

  The problem was the Manor itself. The place, as Logan had said, was a bloody fortress, and Liam hated that he didn’t have a solution either.

  He glanced over his shoulder at a growing hubbub from outside the planning room. A brief alarm had been raised a few minutes earlier, but the guard outside had told them it wasn’t anything to concern themselves with. Now, it seemed, something had maybe developed.

  “What is going on out there?” Logan snapped.

  “You can’t go in there!” a voice shouted.

  Liam watched as one of the armed response guards tried to stop a very determined woman from entering. With a fiery look that matched her hair, it was clear the shifter had no choice, short of shooting her, which he didn’t seem inclined to do. The woman radiated power, but she didn’t set off any alarm bells in his head.

  Logan must have sensed the same, because he motioned at the guard to step out of the way as the woman entered their command room.

  “Who are you, and what do you want?” Logan growled.

  Liam heard his alpha speaking, but as the woman came to face the rest of them, he found his attention distracted. The first thing he noticed about her was the hair. In the indoor light it looked like it was on fire, all red and orange flames flickering up and down its length.

  What he noticed next, however, was her stunning beauty. She was absolutely gorgeous. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Big, round green eyes captured the gaze of every man in the room. A tiny pointed nose and small but firm lips completed the look—a look which she now turned on him, having focused on everyone else in the room.

  Liam swallowed, his eyes roaming over her figure, obscured as it was in a thick black robe. She was very obviously round in all the right places, and his body began to react appropriately, fueled by the fire in her eyes.

  Until his brain clicked in to what she was.

  Mage.

  His lips peeled back automatically, baring his fangs in a snarl as he prepared to lunge at her.

  “I’m here to help.”

  The words stopped him in his tracks. What? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would a mage be here to help?

  “She’s lying,” he snapped, speaking before anyone else.

  The woman’s gaze turned on him, but Liam wasn’t fazed by it. He’d been through fire, and it had left scars upon his soul. The burning pain of Layton’s betrayal was always near the surface, and he could smell deception a mile away. Like he did now.

  “I am not lying,” she shot back. “You don’t know who I am, or why I’m here.”

  Liam shrugged, a tiny, muted movement. “Don’t need to. Don’t care. I know what you are.”

  “What’s that?” she challenged, crossing her arms.

  “A mage. And therefore, a liar,” he snarled, not bothering to hold back his anger.

  “That’s rich, coming from you, traitor,” the mage said.

  Liam bristled at the term.

  “It’s like not everything is so easy to classify, now is it?” she asked in a gentler voice. “Sometimes, it’s all about perspective.”

  “I’m inclined to side more with Liam than I am you,” Logan said tensely. “So perhaps you had better speak quickly, and explain who you are, why you’re here, and why I shouldn’t report you to the Mage Council.”

  Liam shook his head. “Just slap her in chains and call them. She doesn’t deserve the chance to spew more lies.”

  Logan waved him quiet and motioned to the mage. “Speak.”

  “My name is Jennifer. I’m here to help you with your problem,” she said, speaking confidently.

  Liam snorted. Right.

  “I speak of Moonshadow Manor, and the Magi residing within,” she said.

  “Explain,” Logan said, speaking before anyone else could.

  Liam held his tongue, albeit just barely. He didn’t believe a word she was saying. It was all lies. She was a plant, here from either the Mage Council, or on behalf of the Tyrant King. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time a rogue mage had helped him out.

  “You don’t have a mage working with you. The Manor is well protected and has magical defenses. I can help with that. Help you win.”

  “Why would you want to do that?” Liam challenged, unable to keep quiet any longer. “What possible reasoning could you have to risk your life to help us?”

  “I’m here to right some wrongs,” she said. “It
’s as simple as that.”

  “It’s a trap,” Liam said, shaking his head. “She’s here on behalf of the Tyrant King. To earn our trust, and then wipe us out. He’s just desperate enough to do something like this.”

  Logan didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on the mage, and he didn’t move it.

  “You can’t possibly be—” Liam fell silent as Logan lifted a palm in his direction.

  “You’re going to help us fight the Magi?” Logan asked. “Be very careful in how you respond to that question.”

  The woman looked at Logan, then at Liam, as if challenging him to read her eyes, to see into her soul. “Yes,” she said. “I’m here to help you fight the Magi.”

  “Liar,” Liam spat disgustedly.

  “I don’t think she is,” Logan said.

  “Are you serious?” Liam gasped, looking around the rest of the room. “No, absolutely not, this woman isn’t here for us, she’s lying! She—”

  “That will be enough, Liam,” Logan said quietly, turning to face the irate shifter.

  It took everything in him not to challenge the alpha right then and there. Liam had come close before, in his distrust of some of Logan’s decisions, but never as close as he had right now. He quivered with anger, but the only thing worse than letting the mage among them, would be to start fighting amongst themselves.

  As much as he questioned everything the rebels did, Liam still believed in their cause. Even if he was suspicious of some of the motives of the leaders.

  He stared hotly at Logan, the moment lasting just long enough to let everyone know he wasn’t immediately backing down. He was his own man, and wasn’t afraid of anyone.

  “Fine,” he growled.

  “Good,” Logan said, a smile blossoming on his face as he looked back at the mage. “We accept your help. I hope you don’t take offense to the fact I share some of Liam’s reservations here.”

  The redheaded mage glared at Liam while addressing the alpha. “Of course not. That would only be natural of course. How could I blame you for that?”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll accept your help, but I’m going to assign someone I trust implicitly to work with you. If anyone can find out if you’re not a woman of your word, it’s him.” Logan nodded, as if that settled it.

 

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