Blood & Honey

by Shelby Mahurin

  “Are you ready?” Her smirk had returned, and her posture remained relaxed. Arrogant. Ansel scrambled to the cover of the nearest tree. Cypress. Even Coco backed away, tugging Beau with her. “Shall we count to three?”

  I kept my own grip on my knife light. “One.”

  She tossed her knife in the air. “Two.”

  We locked eyes.

  “Three,” I breathed.

  She sprang immediately, surprising me, and attacked with unexpected strength. I blocked her easily enough, countering with a strike of my own. Half force. I just needed to subdue her, not bludgeon her, and she was so small—

  Darting around me, she used my momentum to kick the back of my knee and send me sprawling forward. Worse, she half tackled, half rode me to the ground, ensuring I landed face-first in the snow. Her knife touched my throat as my own skidded out of reach. Chuckling, she dug her knees into my back and brushed a kiss to my neck.

  “First lesson, Ansel: find your opponent’s weaknesses and exploit them.”

  Furious, I spat snow from my mouth and shoved her knife away. “Get off me.”

  She laughed again and rolled to the side, freeing me, before springing to her feet. “So, what did Reid do wrong? Besides falling on his face and losing his weapon?” Winking, she plucked it from the ground and returned it to me.

  Ansel fidgeted under the tree, refusing to make eye contact. “He—he didn’t want to hurt you. He held back.”

  I pushed to my feet. Heat burned up my neck and ears as I beat the snow and mud from my coat, my pants. Fuck. “A mistake I won’t make twice.”

  Lou’s eyes danced. “Shall we try for round two?”

  “Yes.”

  “On your count.”

  I took the offensive this time, striking hard and fast. I’d underestimated her quickness before, but not again. Maintaining my momentum and balance, I kept my movements controlled, forceful. She might’ve been faster, but I was stronger. Much, much stronger.

  Her smirk vanished after a particularly powerful blow to her sword arm. I didn’t hesitate. Again and again I struck, driving her back toward the cypress tree. Trapping her. Exploiting her weakness. Her arms shook with effort, but she could scarcely deflect my attacks, let alone counter. I didn’t stop.

  With one last strike, I knocked away her knife, pinning her against the tree with my forearm. Panting. Grinning. Triumphant. “Yield.”

  She bared her teeth and lifted her hands. “Never.”

  The blast came before I could react. And the smell. The smell. It singed my nose and burned my throat, following me as I soared through the air—as I smashed into a branch and slid into the snow. Something warm and wet burst from my crown. I touched the spot gingerly, and my fingers came away red. Bloody.

  “You—” My throat tightened with disbelief. With rage. “You cheated.”

  “Second lesson,” she snarled, swooping down to retrieve our fallen knives. “There’s no such thing as cheating. Use every weapon in your arsenal.”

  Ansel watched with wide, terrified eyes. Pale and motionless.

  I rose slowly. Deliberately. My voice shook. “Give me a knife.”

  “No.” She lifted her chin, eyes overbright, and slid it through her belt loop. “That’s twice you’ve lost yours. Win it back.”

  “Lou.” Ansel stepped forward tentatively, hands outstretched between us as if placating wild animals. “Maybe—maybe you should just give it—”

  His words ended in a cry as I tackled her to the ground. Rolling to my back, I absorbed the worst of the impact, seizing her wrists and tearing her own knife away. She clawed at me, shrieking, but I kept her hands pinned together with one of my own, using the other to reach—to search—

  Her teeth sank into my wrist before I could find her belt.

  “Shit!” I released her with a snarl, welts forming from the teeth marks. “Are you crazy—?”

  “Pathetic. Surely the great captain can do better than this—”

  Vaguely, I could hear Ansel shouting something in the distance, but the roaring in my ears drowned out everything but Lou. Lou. I rolled, diving for her discarded knife, but she leapt after me.

  I reached it first.

  Instinctively, I swung out in a wide, vicious arc, defending my back. Lou should’ve danced out of reach. She should’ve anticipated the move and countered, ducked beneath my outstretched arm and charged.

  But she didn’t.

  My knife connected.

  I watched in slow motion—bile rising in my throat—as the blade tore through her coat, as her mouth widened in a surprised O. As she tripped, clutching her chest, and tumbled to the ground.

  “No.” I gasped the word before dropping to my knees beside her. The roaring in my ears went abruptly silent. “Lou—”

  “Reid!” Ansel’s voice shattered the silence as he raced toward us, splattering snow and mud in every direction. He skidded to a stop and fell forward, hands fluttering wildly over the gash in her coat. He sat back with a sigh. “Thank God—”

  “Coco,” I said.

  “But she isn’t—”

  “COCO!”

  A quiet chuckle sounded below us. My vision tunneled on Lou’s pale form. A grin touched her lips, wicked, and she rose to her elbows.

  “Stay down,” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “Please. Coco will heal you—”

  But she didn’t stay down. No, she continued to rise, lifting her hands in a peculiar gesture. My mind—sluggish and slow with panic—didn’t comprehend the movement, didn’t understand her intent until it was too late—

  The blast lifted me into the air. I didn’t stop until my back slammed into the tree once more. Doubling over, I choked and tried to regain my breath.

  Another chuckle, this one louder than the last. She strode toward me, opening her coat to reveal her shirt, her skin. Both intact. Not even a scratch. “Third lesson: the fight isn’t over until one of you is dead. Even then, check twice. Always kick them when they’re down.”

  A Debt of Blood

  Reid

  If the tension between us had been thick before, now it was impassable. Each step a brick between us. Each moment a wall.

  We walked for a long time.

  Though Lou sent the black fox—Brigitte, she had named it—ahead with our request to meet, the Beast of Gévaudan didn’t answer.

  No one said another word until dusk fell. Cypress trees had gradually replaced pine and birch, and the ground beneath us had softened. It squelched underfoot, more mud now than moss and lichen. Brine flavored the cold winter air, and above us, a lone seagull cawed. Though water soaked my boots, luck was on our side—the tide hadn’t yet risen.

  “It’ll be dark soon,” Beau whispered. “Do you know where they live?”

  Lou pressed closer to my side. Gooseflesh steepled her skin. “I doubt they invited him in for tea.”

  I resisted the urge to wrap an arm around her, to hold her tight. She hadn’t apologized this time. I hadn’t expected it. “We caught strays unaware last time. I . . . don’t know where the pack resides.”

  “Strays unaware?” Lou looked up at me sharply. “You told me you found the pack.”

  “I wanted to impress you.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Coco glanced at the sky, at the ghost of the moon in the purple sunset. Full tonight. Growing brighter by the minute. “They’ll find us.”

  Beau followed her gaze, paling. “And until then?”

  A howl pierced the night.

  Now I did take Lou’s hand. “We keep going.”

  True darkness fell within the hour. With it, deeper shadows materialized, flitting through the trees. “They’re here.” Voice soft, Lou tipped her head to our left, where a silver wolf slipped out of sight. Another streaked ahead without a sound. More howls echoed the first until a chorus of cries surrounded us. We drew together collectively.

  “Stay calm,” I breathed. Though anxious to draw a blade, I kept my hand firmly in Lou’s. This first moment was criti
cal. If they suspected danger, they wouldn’t hesitate. “They haven’t attacked yet.”

  Beau’s voice heightened to a squeak. “Yet?”

  “Everyone kneel.” Slowly, warily, I sank into a crouch, bowing my head, guiding Lou down with me. Our fingers threaded together in the mire. With each of her breaths, I synchronized my own. Centered myself. Anticipation corded my neck, my arms. Perhaps Blaise wouldn’t listen to me. Despite what I’d told Lou, perhaps he wouldn’t accept my challenge. Perhaps he’d just kill us. “Make eye contact with only those you wish to challenge.”

  As if awaiting my words, the wolves descended. Three dozen of them, at least. They emerged from every direction, as silent as the moon overhead. Surrounding us. Lou’s face went white. Beside her, Ansel trembled.

  We were outnumbered.

  Alarmingly outnumbered.

  “What’s happening?” Beau asked on a ragged breath. He’d pressed his forehead into Coco’s shoulder, clenching his eyes shut.

  I struggled to keep my own voice steady. “We’re requesting an audience with the alpha.”

  Directly in front of us, an enormous yellow-eyed wolf stepped into view. I recognized him immediately—his fur the color of smoke, his maw grizzled and misshapen. A chunk of his nose had been torn away. I still remembered the sight of it falling to the ground. The feel, the smell, of his blood on my hands. The sound of his tortured cries.

  When he curled his lip, revealing teeth as long as my fingers, I forced myself to speak.

  “Blaise. We need to talk.”

  When I moved to rise, Lou stopped me with a curt shake of her head. She rose instead, addressing Blaise directly. Only I could feel her hand trembling. “My name is Louise le Blanc, and I seek an audience with the Beast of Gévaudan, leader of this pack. Can I assume you’re him?”

  Blaise snarled softly. He didn’t look away from me.

  “We’re here to negotiate a partnership against La Dame des Sorcières,” Lou continued, her voice stronger now. “We don’t want to fight.”

  “You are very brave.” A sturdy young woman slipped out from between the trees, dressed in only a shift. Copper skin. Black hair. Deep brown eyes. Behind her, a miniature, male version followed. “Bringing a prince and a Chasseur into Le Ventre.”

  Beau glanced at me. When I nodded, he too stood. Though cautious, his posture shifted subtly, transforming him before our eyes. He straightened his shoulders. Planted his feet. Gazed down at the woman with an impassive expression. “I’m afraid you have us at the disadvantage, Mademoiselle . . . ?”

  She glared at him. “Liana. I am the Beast of Gévaudan’s daughter.”

  Beau nodded. “Mademoiselle Liana. It is a pleasure to meet you.” When she didn’t return the sentiment, he continued, undeterred. “My companion spoke truth. We are here to make peace with the loup garou. We believe an alliance could benefit all parties involved.”

  Lou cast him a grateful look.

  “And what party do you represent?” Liana asked silkily, stalking closer. Beau’s eyes shifted as a handful of wolves shadowed her movements. “Your Highness.”

  Beau gave a strained smile. “Unfortunately, I am not here in an official capacity, though I maintain hope my father is also amenable to an alliance.”

  “Before or after he sends his huntsmen to slaughter my family?”

  “We don’t want to fight,” Lou repeated.

  “That’s too bad.” Liana grinned, and her incisors lengthened, sharpening to lethal points. “Because we do.”

  Her little brother—perhaps five years younger than Ansel—bared his teeth. “Take them.”

  “Wait!” Beau cried, and the wolf nearest him startled, snapping at his hand. He tumbled to the ground with a curse.

  “Please, listen!” Lou darted between them, lifting her hands in a placating gesture. Heedless of her pleas, the wolves charged. I scrambled after them, drawing twin knives from my bandolier, preparing to throw—

  “We just want to talk!” Her voice rose desperately. “We don’t want to fi—”

  The first wolf slammed into her, and she staggered back, hand extending to me. Eyes seeking mine. I adjusted my aim instinctively, throwing the knife straight and true. Catching the hilt as it turned, she slashed at the wolf in a single, continuous movement. When it yelped and leapt aside, bleeding, its kin skidded to a halt all around. Snarls and howls filled the night.

  “We don’t mean any harm.” Lou’s hand no longer trembled. “But we will defend ourselves if necessary.” At her back, I lifted my own knife for emphasis. Coco and Ansel joined with theirs. Even Beau unsheathed his dagger, completing our circle.

  “Well,” Coco said bitterly. The wolves prowled around us, searching for a weak point to attack. “This spiraled out of control even quicker than I thought it would.”

  I swung at a wolf who edged too close. “You know what I need to do, Lou.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “No. No, we can still negotiate—”

  “You have an interesting way of negotiating,” Liana snarled, gesturing to her wounded kin, “bringing knives and enemies into our home and cutting us open.”

  “I didn’t want for that to happen.” Another wolf lunged while Lou spoke, hoping to catch her off guard. To her credit, she didn’t stab it. She kicked it in the nose. “We have information on your enemy, La Dame des Sorcières. Together, we might finally defeat her.”

  “Ah. I understand now.” A small smile played on Liana’s lips. She lifted a hand, and the wolves stopped circling abruptly. “You’ve come to beg for the pack’s help.”

  “To ask for it,” Coco said sharply. She lifted her chin. “We will not beg.”

  The two stared at each other for several seconds. Neither flinching. Neither looking away. Finally, Liana inclined her head. “I acknowledge your bravery, Cosette Monvoisin, but the pack will never help a prince, a huntsman, and their whore.” When she nodded toward Beau, me, and Lou, I saw red. Gripping my knives with deadly intent, I stepped forward. Coco’s arm came across my chest. Liana laughed, the sound fierce. Feral. “You shouldn’t have come here, Reid Diggory. I’ll enjoy tearing out your throat.”

  “Enough, Liana.” Deep and hoarse, Blaise’s voice cut through the din of eager growls. I hadn’t seen him slip away. He stood before us now as a man, clothed only in a pair of loose-fitting pants. His chest was as scarred as his face. His shoulders as broad as my own. Perhaps broader. Like his wolf’s coat, his hair grew long and stormy gray, streaked with silver. “Morgane le Blanc visited us earlier this week with a similar proposition. She spoke of war.”

  “And freedom from the Chasseurs,” Liana spat.

  “All we must do is deliver her daughter—your wife”—Blaise’s yellow eyes bored into mine, filled with hatred—“and my people’s persecution will end.”

  “She’s going to sacrifice me.” Lou’s hand clenched on her knife. Blaise tracked the movement. Predatory. Assessing any weaknesses, even now. “I’m her daughter,” Lou continued, her voice rising in pitch. A glance confirmed that her pupils had dilated. Her body was also preparing to fight, even if her mind hadn’t yet grasped the danger of our situation. “Yet she only conceived me—raised me—to die. She never loved me. Surely you see how evil that is?”

  Blaise bared his teeth at her. His incisors were still sharp. Pointed. “Do not speak to me of family, Louise le Blanc, when you have never known one. Do not talk of killing children. Not with the company you keep.”

  Lou grimaced, a note of desperation lacing her voice. “He’s a changed man—”

  “He owes us blood. His debt will be paid.”

  “We never should’ve come here,” Beau whispered.

  He was right. Our plan had been half-assed at best, and this—this had been a suicide mission from the start. The Beast of Gévaudan would never join us. Because of me.

  “Morgane won’t hesitate to slaughter you after you’ve fulfilled her purpose.” Lou abandoned all attempts at civility, planting her feet wide in f
ront of me. Defending me against an entire pack of werewolves. “Dames Blanches loathe loup garou. They loathe anything different from themselves.”

  “She can try.” Blaise’s canines extended past his lip, and his eyes gleamed in the darkness. The wolves around him snarled and began to circle us again. Hackles raised. “But she will quickly discover that loup garou savor the blood of our enemies most. You were foolish to venture into Le Ventre, Louise le Blanc. Now your huntsman will pay with his life.” His bones began to crack and shift, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Liana grinned. The wolves inched closer, licking their lips.

  Lou lifted her hands once more. This time, the gesture wasn’t placating. “You will not touch him.”

  “Lou.” I touched her elbow, shaking my head. “Stop.”

  She knocked my hand aside and lifted her own higher. “No, Reid.”

  “I knew what would happen when I came here.” Before she could protest, before Blaise could complete his transition to wolf, I took a deep breath and stepped forward. “I challenge you, Blaise, the Beast of Gévaudan and alpha of this pack, to a duel. On your honor, and my own.” His bones stopped snapping abruptly, and he stared at me, frozen between two forms. Lupine and humanoid. A grotesque blend of wolf and man. “Just the two of us. One weapon of our choice. If I win, you and your pack will join us in the upcoming battle. You will help us defeat La Dame des Sorcières and her Dames Blanches.”

  “And if I win?” Blaise’s voice was distorted, disjointed, from his elongated mouth. More snarls than words.

  “You kill me.”

  He snorted, his lips pulling back from his teeth. “No.”

  I blinked. “No?”

  “I refuse your challenge, Reid Diggory.” He nodded to his daughter and son before surrendering himself to the change completely. Within seconds, he landed on all fours, panting in the cold night air. A wolf once more. Liana stood behind him. In her eyes shone a hatred I recognized. A hatred that had once stolen my own breath and hardened my own heart.

  “This time, Captain Diggory,” she said softly, “we will hunt you. If you reach the village on the other side of our land, you escape with your life. If not . . .” She inhaled deeply, smiling as if scenting our fear, before extending her arms to her pack members. “Glory to the loup garou who kills you.”