by Laura Taylor
“We had a run-in with the Noturatii on the way here,” Kendrick announced without preamble, “and Caroline’s feeling a little apprehensive about what she’s got herself into, so we’re going to get that side of things sorted before we go any further.” He turned to Caroline. “Don’t be offended by the cool greeting,” he told her with a wry look. “Recruiting new members always makes people a little nervous, especially when the newbies don’t know what the deal is yet.”
It was too late to back out now, Caroline reminded herself, cold fear in her gut.
“Let’s put all our cards on the table,” Kendrick went on, “and then you’ll see exactly why we have a very particular sort of enemy, and why we operate at the very highest levels of secrecy.
“We are the local division of a much larger organisation by the name of Il Trosa, which operates right across Europe. Our head office is in Italy, and we have close to three thousand members in total. The Noturatii are our main opposition. Their organisation is run from Germany, but they have local offices in every country across Europe, as well as North America, Russia and China. The two men who tried to apprehend you earlier were Noturatii operatives. They’re treated with a strict ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ policy.
“As for who we are, and what we do… a physical demonstration is really the only way to explain it.”
The group gathered around her in a large circle, making Caroline’s heart rate kick up a notch. She unconsciously lowered her weight into a fighting stance, knowing she couldn’t take on this many trained warriors in one go, but ready to do as much damage as possible on her way down if they chose to take issue with her. But then she saw that a few of the men had stood back, guns in hand, no doubt ready to shoot her if she caused any trouble. Fuck. What the hell had she got herself into?
“We are a secret society,” Kendrick said seriously, “that has existed hidden from the public eye for nearly six hundred years. We have delved far beyond the reach of modern science, and operate in a realm which can only usefully be called magic. We are the best kept secret this world has ever seen.” Kendrick nodded to the woman who had kissed him, and Caroline was shocked to see a bright crackle of electricity cover her skin, flowing back from her head, down her torso and over her legs. Her form blurred, shrank in on itself, changed… Caroline stared, open mouthed, at the lithe, brown and grey dog that now stood before her, the same one from the training exercise in the park, if she wasn’t mistaken. What in the name of all that was holy…?
“We are shape shifters,” Kendrick said, and Caroline glanced around, the pieces suddenly clicking into place. It wasn’t a dog at all. It was a wolf. That was why she hadn’t been able to pick the breed. She gaped in open awe as she stared at the rest of them, a wide circle of wolves now standing all around her.
“Now you can see why our secrets are so closely guarded. And why the exposing of those secrets warrants the death of those who betray us.”
Silence, as Caroline stood and took in the scene around her. Her first thought was that she was dreaming, that this whole day was nothing more than a vivid hallucination brought on by the stress of leaving her home. But the minutes ticked by, everyone waiting patiently, no one willing to break the heavy silence, and Caroline reflected that if she was dreaming, this was the part where she would usually have woken up.
“Can I touch her?” she asked Kendrick, nodding to the female wolf closest to her, and he nodded. So she crouched down and reached for the wolf, surprised by her own lack of fear. The wolf stood patiently as she ran a hand through thick fur, felt down her legs, then eased around behind her to view her from all angles.
“You were the dog in the park, weren’t you?” Caroline asked cautiously. The wolf nodded, and it was odd to see such a human gesture from an animal. “And you understand what I’m saying? You’re like a human mind, in a wolf’s body?” Another nod.
Caroline stood up and turned to face Kendrick. “That is the single most fucking awesome thing anyone has ever shown me,” she said, feeling a rush of excitement. “You want a new recruit? Hell, yes… I’m in.”
CHAPTER NINE
Present Day
Inside the library, Caroline dumped her notes on the table and took a seat, ready for the meeting about the Densmeet. Baron was already there, a stack of papers in front of him, with Tank sitting beside him, pen in hand, ready to take down the details of the meeting.
“I’ve got the list of visitors,” Baron began. “We’re getting five shifters from France, five from Spain, four each from Norway and Poland, twelve from Russia – four different Dens there – and four from Ukraine.”
“Ukraine?” Caroline asked in surprise. “We haven’t had them here before. Do they speak any English?” Not every shifter who came would know the language, but at least one member from each Den coming would be fluent and be able to translate for the others.
“Nikolai, the alpha, speaks English,” Baron explained, checking the guest list in front of him. And beside him, Andre quietly coughed.
Caroline glanced up at him. “What?”
“Nikolai is coming to Scotland?” Andre repeated, a strange note in his voice.
“You’ve met him?” Baron asked immediately. It was reasonable for them to expect to have met about half the visiting shifters before, while the rest would be strangers.
“Briefly. I had business in Ukraine a few years ago. What do you know of the Den?”
“Nothing, save what the Council tells us. I didn’t know they were any different from any other eastern European Den.”
Andre raised an eyebrow. “They live in the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone,” he said, a touch of awe in his voice, and Caroline’s eyes opened wide at the news.
“They what?”
“On the edge of it,” Andre clarified. “Not right in the centre. But nonetheless, they’re exposed to a significant amount of radiation on a regular basis. There are some benefits to the location, though. Since humans were evacuated, the local wildlife has proliferated. There’s an abundance of deer and wolves in particular, and that gives them a great deal of freedom. Very few humans to spy on them, an established population of wild wolves to mask their activities, plenty of prey. And the shifter physiology seems to protect them from the worst of the effects of the radiation. But it has had a few unforeseen side effects, as well.”
“Like what?” Baron asked.
“It’s enhanced their magic. There have been a few new abilities to come out of that Den in the last few years, and not from any dabbling with the bloodlines. Nikolai himself…” Andre paused and swore softly in Italian, then continued. “There are Council reports that he’s learned to teleport. He can initiate a shift in one location, and his other form appears anywhere up to ten metres from that point. The Council is eager to conduct a further assessment on him and his Den, but so far they’ve been busy dealing with other problems.”
“Teleportation?” Caroline breathed in awe. “Wow.”
“You had a shifter here in England a good while back,” Andre went on. “I don’t remember his name, but he had the ability to disappear for a few seconds each time he shifted. His human body would vanish, but he found a way to delay the arrival of his wolf body, effectively rendering him invisible for a short time. He was of the line of Fellor. Nikolai is of the same line, so there’s a theory that he inherited the same ability, but the radiation allowed him to take it to new levels.”
“And what about the man himself,” Baron asked, no doubt eager to know more about any potential problems that might be arriving on his doorstep. “What’s he like?”
Andre let out a chuckle. “Unusual,” he said wryly. “Nothing dangerous. He’s just… he’s a character. Let’s put it that way.”
“It should be interesting to meet him,” Caroline said, curious about this foreign man. “What about the wolves from France? Who’s coming with them?”
France was the nearest Den to England, and as such, they were close allies, often traveling between the two cou
ntries to visit or assist each other, and they had several good friends there. It would be nice to have the chance to catch up with them.
“They’re sending Henri, Marcel and Vincent,” Baron said, reading from the list. “Vincent is new, recruited last year. And also Sabine and Annabelle.”
Caroline made a satisfied noise as she heard that last name. Annabelle was a good friend, and a constant source of both sound advice, and mischief. She was also a fine warrior and had a gift for rituals and ceremonies similar to Heron’s. Henri, too, was a familiar name, though Caroline hadn’t met the others.
“The Council has requested that Annabelle perform the Nochtan-Eil,” Baron said, literally the ‘Midnight Chant’. It was a sacred ceremony honouring Sirius and the lives of those who had fallen in the past year, and was generally considered to be the highlight of the Densmeet.
“The Council has advised them that you’ll be attending,” Baron said to Andre. “And Marcel has sent a message saying he’d like to meet with you.” And then he added, with a note of interest, “Apparently he knew your father.”
Caroline turned to Andre in surprise. “Your father?”
Andre nodded slightly. “My father was French. Hence my name. He lived with the Den there for eight years before he met my mother and was transferred to England. That was two years before they adopted me. I haven’t seen Marcel since I was fifteen. But before that, he was a regular visitor here. It’s been a long time.” That last part was said wistfully, and Caroline felt another unreasonable stab of jealousy. For all the time she’d spent with Andre in Italy, there was so much she didn’t know about his past.
“On the subject of the Nochtan-Eil,” she interrupted awkwardly, eager to change the subject, but not liking what she had to say. “Luke fell this year. And under normal circumstances, Mark would have taken part in the ceremony in his honour.”
A heavy silence greeted her statement, the implicit question hanging over them all. Mark had got into significant trouble last year and had subsequently been branded as a traitor, as well as demoted to the rank of omega. But the death of his closest friend left them with a dilemma. It would be hugely insulting to Mark to forbid him from participating in the ceremony, a slap in the face that effectively nullified the close bond he’d had with Luke. But on the other hand, to let a branded traitor take part in such a sacred ritual would cause an uproar with the rest of the shifters. She looked at Baron for a solution, and then, when none was forthcoming, to Andre.
“As it happens,” Andre said slowly, “the Council has already taken note of the issue. And they have requested that Alistair take part in the ceremony instead of Mark.”
“Ah.” That single word conveyed a great depth of emotion, and Baron’s expression tightened at the news. Alistair was a freelance reporter, the Den’s PR genius, tackling any media leaks that came a little too close to the truth about the shifters, and he had also been a close friend of Luke’s… but Mark was not going to take this well.
“I think,” Andre hedged cautiously, “that they made the decision to take any potential blame away from you and Caroline. I know it’s a little heavy handed of them, but they also like to avoid any situations that can create a sense of divided loyalty.”
It was very considerate of them, even if it was heavy handed, as Andre had said, an interference in the running of a Den that they would not usually take. But Mark had been a high ranking wolf, and they must have known that both Caroline and Baron continued to feel conflicted over his demotion.
“Let’s move on then,” Baron said a moment later. “George will be organising catering, but he’ll need help with preparing meals for so many people. Eric and Heron have both volunteered to help, and I don’t see any problem with that arrangement.”
Caroline nodded, glad that at least one item on their agenda had such a simple solution. At the end of the table, Tank was dutifully taking notes, not having said anything so far, though he’d been listening attentively.
“Skip will be running a three day seminar on hacking,” Caroline said next, consulting her own notes. “We’re taking four laptops for the purpose, and the other hackers will each be bringing one of their own. One of the Russian wolves needs to attend the sessions, but he doesn’t speak any English, so he’ll have a translator working with him. Silas will also be running his usual combat training sessions, but the translator isn’t a part of that, so if we run both groups at the same time, that’ll cut down on time taken away from other things.”
“I’ve asked Caleb to help arrange the Games this year,” Baron said, throwing a covert glance at Andre.
The ‘Games’, as they were exclusively known, took a variety of forms. For new recruits, they were a chance to hone important skills as a wolf, tracking, digging, manipulating objects in wolf form without the benefit of human hands. For more seasoned shifters, they rapidly increased in difficulty, more difficult scents to track, obstacle courses, team challenges designed to measure the shifter’s ability to work with wolves with an entirely different skill set from their own. Each year it was a challenge to come up with new and interesting Games for the visiting shifters, each one not just a test of skill, but an excuse to have some fun as well, but for the older wolves, it was almost as much fun to design the Games as it was to participate in them.
“Caleb’s got a good imagination,” Baron went on, “and he should be able to come up with a good variety of challenges.” It was a sideways reference to Andre’s ongoing assessment of the man for service to the Council, a more direct reference not possible with Tank sitting in the room, but Andre caught on quickly.
“As an assassin, I’m not qualified to enter any of the challenges,” he said, giving Baron a nod, “but I’d like to help set things up. I’d be happy to work with Caleb to get things arranged.” It would be a perfect opportunity for him to assess not just Caleb’s organisational skills, but his personality as well, opening up the chance for subtle one-on-one conversations as they put in long hours together to design each challenge.
“Just one other thing,” Caroline said, before they wrapped up the meeting. “I take it you’re making the usual provisions for John?”
Baron nodded. “I’ve got it under control.” Not good at socialising and prone to fits of temper, John found the Densmeets to be more than a little stressful, and Baron had learned to make arrangements to ease his tension. A quiet bedroom for himself and John, away from interruptions and noise. Regularly scheduled breaks when either himself or Heron could take the boy away from the crowd for some down time. And plenty of exercise to keep his energy levels under control.
“Tank?” Baron said, drawing the man into the conversation for the first time. “Are you still up for putting in a few sparring sessions with him?”
“No problem,” Tank said, aiming for his usual easy going mood, and not quite making it. “Happy to help.”
“Thanks,” Baron said, and Caroline made a mental note to talk to him about Tank in the near future. His ongoing reluctance to deal with his captivity in the Noturatii’s lab was worrying, and she wasn’t keen on heading to Scotland, with all its potential dramas, with him in the condition he was in.
“We should also think about Dee,” Caroline said. “There’s going to be a reaction to her and her wolf. Rumours will have spread by now about Fenrae-Ul and the prophecy about her destroying our species, and I don’t want anyone giving her a hard time about it.” Dee herself had said several times that she had no intention of harming anyone in Il Trosa, and Caroline was more inclined to listen to the woman herself than a millennia-old prophecy in a barely-translatable language. “But at the same time, I don’t want people upset because they’re worried about what she might do.”
“Mark is just as likely to be an issue,” Andre added. “People aren’t going to be happy about having a traitor in their midst.”
“I think we’ll need to play that one by ear,” Baron said, after a moment’s consideration. “Making an issue out of either of them is only like
ly to create more tension, and a little heckling is to be expected. We are wolves, after all,” he added with a wry grin. “But if anyone steps too far over the line, we need a couple of people on hand who can step in for them. I’ll have a word to Silas about it. And you, Andre?” Andre nodded, wordlessly offering his support. “Tank? You okay with putting out a few fires, if they come up?”
“For God’s sake,” Tank snapped, his pretence at a good mood vanishing. “I’m not a fucking invalid. I know my job, and I’m perfectly capable of doing it, so stop asking me if everything’s okay like I’m about to break at any moment.”
And that, Caroline thought blackly, was exactly why they were worried. Tank was known for his good humour, his extensive patience and his ability to see the funny side to just about any situation. And this latest display of temper was not doing anything to reassure her that he was still capable of fulfilling his duties.
18 Years Ago
Andre marched into the Council’s headquarters, a large villa just outside Cison de Valmarino, feeling on top of the world. It was three years since he’d been converted – later than he would have liked, but an exhilarating moment, nonetheless – and now at the age of twenty-two, with the skills from new training and the weight of new responsibilities on his shoulders, he was, for the first time, feeling like more than an awkward child. He was becoming a man, a warrior, a valued part of his pack. And it was a heady feeling.