by Tanith Frost
“Guess he didn’t like that. What happened after that? Did you back down?”
He snorts. “No. Fellow named Alvin came to my rescue. He didn’t jump in and fight for me, of course. That would have undermined me, and I think he saw that I had potential he didn’t want to screw up.”
I can’t help thinking of Daniel, how angry I was with him for not leaping to defend me from Silas. How I might never have gained Silas’ respect if he had.
I hate being wrong.
“Alvin stepped in—after I’d had my ass thoroughly kicked, mind you, and learned a bit of a lesson about mouthing off—and pointed out to Joseph that we were better off without them. Joseph’s thing was always how useless the females were. I guess he realized it looked bad for him to be so upset about losing them.”
“Why was he so mad if he hated having them around?”
Silas smiles sadly. “Because it means he fucked up. We’re not like regular wolf packs. We have more choices, and we have human conflicts. Our structure is unique. For werewolves, the alpha is the master. Not that he rules over everyone and lives like a king, but that he takes care of his pack. He’s responsible for their safety, and for that they respect him and are loyal to him. When Irene took the females and left, that meant he’d overstepped, forgotten what it means to be an alpha werewolf. He’d made them scapegoats for all of the pack’s frustrations instead of dealing with the problems as they came up. And the fact that Irene turned out to be an incredible alpha wolf, that she managed to negotiate housing and supplies with the vampires who were here at the time, that she didn’t come crawling back…” His smile turns a little more satisfied. “I think that has been a thorn in his paw ever since.”
“And you?”
He shifts uncomfortably. “Things went back to normal for me. After a few years, when I got bigger and started to fulfill the promise that Joseph and Alvin both saw in me early on, Joseph started teaching me what it means to be an alpha. He was strong and healthy—still is—but he wanted to leave a legacy if anything happened to him, not a war between the factions he could already see forming. I got to know the pack better, for better and worse. I saw how Joseph was still trying to control Irene’s pack from afar, harassing them, intimidating them, letting his guys do as they wished. Some of our pack members hated it as much as I did, and became reluctant to come here and witness all that shit. Joseph was just so bitter. He’d grown to hate the females. In his worst moments, when it was just the two of us talking and planning, he’d rant about how they’d stolen something from him.”
“His position as the only lord of the land?”
One thick eyebrow quirks up. “Exactly.”
“My own elders aren’t keen on disobedience or challenges to their authority.”
He gives me an appraising look. “You’ll have to tell me about that sometime, when all of this is over. About your world. The vampires.”
The thought of spending more time with him under more peaceful circumstances isn’t a terrible one. I won’t call him a friend. Certainly not anything more. But slow warmth spreads through my chest. “Deal. What happened next?”
“I guess the rest of the story’s not so complicated. I still have too much of that cocky kid in me. I felt like I was ready to lead, but I only saw Joseph’s pack ripping itself apart from the inside, and I didn’t want to inherit that. Alvin approached me first about leaving, but he wasn’t the only one. I didn’t want to sneak off like the other pack had to. Wanted to make a statement.”
“Joseph wasn’t too pleased about that?”
Silas traces the scars on his face and his chest. “Not exactly.” He pauses again. “We knew it would be hard. The sanctuary wasn’t going to get bigger to accommodate another pack, so we’d have to take over the semi-neutral land between Joseph and the females. We didn’t intentionally become a buffer. We wanted to be left alone, too, and knew the females wouldn’t welcome the new neighbours. It was just because of the way things crumbled under a—” He cuts himself off.
“A bad alpha?”
He nods. “I still have trouble thinking of him that way. Like I said before, blood runs even deeper than pack loyalty, and he was never all bad. He kept everyone fed, made sure they obeyed the rules so as not to piss the vampires off.” He looks at me again, grinning sheepishly. “My own later misbehaviour may have been as much about him as about your species. Well. Almost as much.”
I roll my eyes. “I appreciate your honesty.”
The grin fades quickly. “Joseph always hated your kind more than I did. He didn’t remember a time before the sanctuary, but he acted like he did. Wanted to go back to the days when we were free. I don’t disagree with that. Our ancestors never killed a human here, you know. We’re being punished for other weres’ mistakes in the distant past.”
“Until about a month ago,” I point out.
“Yeah.”
We’re silent for a few minutes, both lost in our own thoughts.
“So what do we do?” I ask. “If we go back and talk to the vampires, I don’t know what will happen.”
“You don’t think they’ll listen?”
“Not to me, no.” I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “I’m a traitor now, I think.”
“For trying to do the right thing?”
“Guess that makes two of us, eh?” I stand and pace. My mind is leaping now, obeying my orders, making connections, but I still have to focus and sort through it all. “We need proof of exactly who is responsible.” I spin around to face him. “Do you think Joseph would intentionally frame Irene’s pack?”
Silas’ mouth opens slowly and closes again. “I don’t want to think it, but yeah.” He looks pained, as though his disloyalty hurts him. “I wouldn’t be totally surprised to find out that he was still punishing them for leaving. I don’t know why he’d do it now, though.”
“What exactly did you say to him when you asked him to help the other day?”
“That if this thing didn’t get solved soon, the vampires would come down hard on all of us.” He leans forward and rests his forehead in his hands. “Shit. You think…”
“I think maybe he decided that it was time for someone to go down for this, yeah.”
He groans.
“Irene said they were hunting a caribou,” I continue. “That’s why the wolves had blood on them.”
Silas frowns as he looks up. “Caribou don’t pass through here, and they move in herds. Someone would have had to go find one and chase it back here for them to hunt it.”
“So Joseph and his pack left sanctuary land to find one, got it back here, and killed that hiker. Then got rid of the caribou carcass after the females hunted.” My stomach turns as I realize that if that stranger hadn’t come along, they might have killed Susannah instead.
Silas drums his fingers on the table, frowning. “It makes sense. Do you think Irene knows and couldn’t tell anyone?”
My stomach sinks. “I’d say there’s a good chance Joseph thinks she knows something. Either way, she could be in danger. Come on. We’ve been gone too long.”
He stands and gathers his clothes. “We going back?”
I dress quickly and head for the door. “We have to break Irene out tonight. If she’s got answers, we need to hear them before Joseph gets his teeth into her.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The smell of smoke hits me before we’ve reached the compound fence, and panic rises in me like a wildfire.
I glance back at Silas, who’s scenting the wind like he would in his wolf form. “Hurry,” he says, and we both break into a run. He’s fast, but I make it through the fence first.
The compound is in flames. Orange tongues lick out from the windows in the dormitory wing, and a window in the common room shatters as we pass by at a safe distance.
I shield my eyes and my face. I’ve never been burned, but the fear is instinctive. I want to run back into the forest.
Erica and Royce are out. She looks at m
e evenly as I approach, but he seems surprised to see me.
I was supposed to be locked in my room. I should be burning.
I wish they looked happy to see that I’m not.
“You made it out,” Royce says, and draws a gun from the holster at his hip as he spots Silas behind me. “What’s he doing here?”
“Where’s Irene?” I ask.
Erica nods back toward the compound. The hallway off the garage doesn’t look like it’s burning yet, but the smoke has to be choking anyone still in there.
“We were working in the common room when the smoke detectors went off. The fire started in several places simultaneously.” Erica nods to the flickering shadows well back from the blaze, where a handful of canine shapes pace. One lets out a long howl. “We suspect they started the fire, with the hope we’d bring their leader out with us.”
“So you’re going to let her burn instead?” Silas snarls.
Royce points the gun at him. “Stand back,” he orders, calm and quiet. “The others will be here soon. We sent word. This ends tonight. All of it.”
“We can get her out,” I tell them. “The garage door is open. It would only take a few minutes to get in and out. Between the three of us, we can secure her. She has answers, I know she does. Joseph is behind this.”
“You’re not going in there. Not with them waiting to save her,” Royce says as the wolves pace closer. Six of them. I recognize Violet, who locks eyes with me. Pleading. “Step aside, Aviva. Get rid of the wolves if you can. You seem to have an understanding with them.” He looks at Silas as he says that, voice dripping with disdain.
A crash rings out from the building as something in the dormitory wing collapses.
I look to Violet again, but she’s got her eyes on Silas. He tilts his head toward Erica and Royce. His brow is deeply furrowed, questioning. I can’t read their communication, but something passes between them.
“Aviva,” he says, just loud enough to he heard over the flames.
Royce keeps his gun trained on Silas as we step away, but he’s on edge. I don’t doubt he’ll turn it on me.
“I’m going in,” Silas says, palming the key ring he slips out of his pocket, and takes off toward the garage.
I bolt after him, matching him step for step. A shot rings out behind us, and a sharp pain cuts through my left arm. Howls fill the air behind us, followed by shouts and more gunshots. I don’t look back. I can’t.
“Let me,” I tell him as we enter the garage. He unlocks the door and opens it, then coughs on the black smoke that pours out until tears roll down his cheeks. He drops to the ground on his hands and knees, and I follow suit. The air is clearer down here, but still choking.
“I can get her,” he says.
“I know,” I tell him, “but not without potentially killing yourself. I don’t have to breathe unless I’m talking.”
He coughs into his elbow. “I can’t—”
“Enough alpha bullshit,” I say. “Trust that I can do this better than you can and let me do it.”
If it comes down to it, I’ll wrestle the keys from his hand. But we don’t have time for that.
His gaze falls on my left arm, and I look down. Pale blood stains my sleeve.
“I don’t need that, either,” I tell him, speaking quickly, without a hint of doubt in my voice. In truth, the wound is weakening my arm, but if he sees any hint of infirmity in me, he’ll insist on coming in with me. “I have your strength in me. Get the hell out of here.”
He growls and coughs again as he shoves the keys into my hand. I take a second to use the dim security lights in the garage to find the key marked for the infirmary, then head into the inferno.
I stay on my hands and knees, crawling into the hallway. The space is unrecognizable. The lights have gone out, and dark smoke rolls over the ceiling, visible in the orange light that flickers under the doorway at the end of the hall. The heat is already unbearable.
I feel my way past the door to the storage room and quickly reach the infirmary that’s now serving as a jail. I hold the keys in my left hand and try to slip the key into the lock as I twist the handle with my right, but my fingers are numb, and I lose my grip on the keys.
I don’t swear. I can’t afford the breath I’d need to do it.
I try again with my other hand and shove the door open with my shoulder as soon as it’s open.
It’s too dark to see which key I should be using to open the kennel. There are five more options.
A low whine fills the air as I feel my way toward the cell, followed by the sound of heavy panting that quickly turns to a hacking cough as smoke rolls in behind me. I stick a hand through the bars so she can smell me. A dry nose brushes over my skin, and I pull my hand back. I need both of them to feel for the lock, to try the keys. There’s no light here, and even with my heightened senses, I can’t see anything.
I close my eyes. They’re worse than useless with the smoke and sweat stinging them, making them water.
The first key doesn’t fit. I flip it over. Still no good.
Next key.
Still nothing.
And again.
Irene whimpers. She’s pressed her furry body against the cage door.
The fourth key slips into the lock, but won’t turn. I brace myself and twist harder, and the mechanism clicks. The door swings toward me, and Irene’s weight propels her out, knocking me down.
A sound like an explosion fills the hallway as we reach the door, accompanied by a wave of heat and light that sends me reeling deeper into the darkness of the infirmary. Pain washes over the exposed skin of my face, like the acidic burn of sunlight.
Irene howls, and a moment later her jaws close over my arm. She pulls me back toward the door, and I have to fight the urge to push her away.
She stumbles against me, then releases me as she lets out a string of coughs, followed by the inevitable deep recovery breath that only sucks more smoke into her lungs. She sinks to the floor.
“No,” I tell her, finally releasing the breath I took outside. I stand, hunched over as low as I can get, and hook my good arm around her neck under the jaw—her chest is too broad for me to pull her that way, and my left arm is now as good as useless. I won’t be able to shield my face as I drag her through the hall. I’ll just have to move quickly.
Thank goodness I fed.
I look out long enough to locate the door to the garage, close my eyes, and haul her heavy body from the room.
The light and heat combine to overwhelm me with agony that feels like the skin has been peeled from the underlying flesh of my face. Like I’m melting.
I force my legs to move forward and turn my back on the flames. It doesn’t help. The fire is coming, and the corridor is lit up from end to end.
The weight under my arm lifts, and a strong hand grips my arm. In a few more steps we’re in the garage.
“Don’t stop,” Silas yells, taking Irene from me and lifting her in a fireman’s carry. His voice is rough, but his strides are strong as we race away from the flames, toward the gap we left open in the fence.
I look back over my shoulder as soon as I can force my eyes to stay open. Erica and Royce are gone. So are the wolves, save for three bodies lying still in the dirt. I can’t tell whether Violet is among them.
I gasp in a chestful of night air that cools me and calms my mind, allowing me to reach deep within and access the depths of my power. My skin still feels like I’m being consumed by flames, but the void within me will rise. My skin will heal, as will my arm, given time and rest.
I turn my attention away from the pain. It doesn’t matter now.
Another gunshot rings out far behind us, and Irene stirs. She twists out of Silas’ grip, and he catches her before she can fall.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t look back.
Neither do I. There’s nothing we can do for them now.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The moon illuminates our path through the forest, and I soon wond
er whether the werewolves feel its effects as I do the night air and the cool darkness. Silas’ cough has eased, and Irene seems stronger. As soon as we’re in her territory she twists again in his arms, and this time he sets her down.
She turns on him, growling.
“Not yet,” he says firmly, but respectfully. He gestures to his clothing, indicating that he can’t change without stripping. “If you want to fight over this, we can. But I think that would be a waste of time.”
Her lips close over her teeth, and she leads the way toward the little cluster of cabins. The fur on her shoulders remains raised, though. I don’t envy Silas if she decides to take her anger out on him.
She picks up her pace as we reach her home, and she scratches at the door of her cabin.
“Can you change now?” I ask her, and she nods.
The door isn’t locked. I turn the knob, and she enters the shadowy room beyond.
Silas and I wait outside.
“She’s angry we made her leave them, isn’t she?” I ask.
He nods. “She’d have gone back if we’d let her.”
“And Royce wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot her,” I say. “Did you see the bodies?”
“I did. I don’t think she was awake at that point, though. Don’t say anything. Not yet.”
I sit on the ground and tear a sleeve off my shirt to tie around the wound on my arm, then turn my face toward the stars. It’s a glorious night. I wish we could stop and enjoy it, but there’s work to do. I close my eyes.
Darkness far deeper than that of the shadowy forest flows through me. The skin of my face cools. It feels tight. I can’t tell whether it will scar. I don’t think it will. It might have if I’d taken longer to get out, though.
“Thank you for coming after us,” I say, without opening my eyes.
He sits beside me. Open as I am to my power and his, I feel his spirit as much as the solid form of his body. “You were taking so long. I was worried.”