Legacy Awakened

by Tamar Sloan

  Holy crap. It’s not possible.

  I’ve been awake the whole time.

  Hunter

  24 MONTHS BEFORE

  “Whoa. You don’t actually look like crap today.”

  I pass KJ the cup of coffee I brought him. “And I call you my best friend.” Then look a little more closely. “Seems like the tables have turned…”

  KJ is sitting where he usually does—at his desk with multiple screens surrounding him, in his usual getup—black cargo pants, grey sweatshirt, and the always-there grey beanie. Except today there’s a slump to his shoulders, like his body is too heavy to carry.

  Normally, that’s my look thanks to my evening jaunts, but today I feel invigorated. It’s probably because of Sakari and the den, or maybe it’s because my mind hasn’t slowed down since she appeared…

  KJ grabs the coffee, rubbing his face with his other hand. His fingers spear under the wool on his head to scratch his hair. A beanie in this neck of the arctic circle isn’t unusual. A beanie on a Were in this neck of the arctic circle? Now that’s not something you see, like, never.

  Then again, if there’s one thing KJ doesn’t want to be, that’s a Were.

  I reach out to grab it, but KJ ducks like this is a dance we’ve done before. He pushes my hand away, a grin nudging at his lips. “We don’t touch this remember?” He waves his coffee around the general area of his head. “This, cousin, is sacred space.”

  We’re not cousins in the strict sense of the term, KJ is the nephew of my grandmother. We’ve never bothered to figure out what exactly that makes us because it doesn’t really matter. When he moved in a few houses down several years ago it didn’t take us long to become the best of friends.

  I roll my eyes as I flop onto the bed. “Whatever you’re trying to hatch under there, I think it’s cooked.”

  KJ’s baby grin dies. “A solution?”

  My coffee cup stops its journey to my mouth. “Has something happened?”

  He turns around to face his screens and wiggles the mouse. The one on the left comes to life, and a frozen face fills the screen.

  I sit up, shifting to the edge of the bed. “Not that prick again.”

  With a glance over his shoulder that says ‘yep, that prick again,’ KJ clicks the little white triangle at the bottom. Alistair Davenport begins to move, and I realize I’m watching the replay of a news report.

  “It is only a matter of time before another one happens.” He slams his fist into his palm. “Wolf attacks are on the rise.” I clench my hand. Wolf attacks have remained at what they always have—less attacks than hippos for Pete’s sake—they’ve just been on the news a thousand percent more. “Their threat grows daily. Women and children are the most vulnerable to attack.” My teeth grind into each other. Technically, that’s true. Any predator goes for the most vulnerable. “And it’s our role to protect them.”

  I sigh. “Next, he pulls on the heartstrings.”

  Alistair rearranges his features from evangelical to that of a martyr. “My father, a gentle man, is a silent victim of these menacing animals. A lover of nature, he was witness to the violence they are capable of. He has barely survived the heart attack it caused. Weakened, the trauma of those images have stayed with him so indelibly that he can no longer leave the house. He lives in fear of what they are capable of.”

  I want to throw my coffee at the screen. The truth is, Alistair feeds that fear.

  KJ is frowning just as ferociously as I am. “And now the promise.”

  “I vow to you, our world will be safe. We will be free to walk the woods and not have to look over our shoulder. We will not feel vulnerable or weak or scared. Culling is how we ensure this.”

  The screen changes to bring us a young reporter with her serious face on. “That was Alistair Davenport, son of Harold Davenport. Harold was the groundskeeper of a wildlife sanctuary before taking an early retirement. He now lives with his son, Alistair, a passionate campaigner for wolf population control.”

  I snort. What an emotionally sanitized term to call it. Indiscriminate killing would be more accurate. Legal slaughter of innocent animals would hit the nail on the head. I have to put my coffee down before I crush the cardboard cup. The levels of unfairness in this whole mess always pisses me off.

  KJ clicks the mouse and the image minimizes, but he doesn’t turn around straight away. From the moment he arrived to live with his Aunt Lou about seven years ago, the plight of the wolves has been his personal mission. Discovering that we’re second cousins only cemented our relationship.

  It means I know how hard it hits him every time Alistair Davenport stirs up trouble. It also means the vigilance on the patrols will have to be taken up a notch.

  It also means I may see her again…

  Thinking of the golden wolf reminds me of what I shared with her. I open my mouth, the good news I’ve brought bursting to be told, but KJ hasn’t finished.

  “Oh, and she emailed again.”

  My mouth shuts and my lips thin. That woman is tenacious, I’ll give her that.

  I grab the coffee again, taking a sip before I respond. “Same old, same old?”

  KJ wheels to the right and lights up another screen. “Yep.” He clicks open his email. “And nope.”

  Dawn’s letters are always lengthy. She’s obviously as passionate about saving the wolves and ending this all as KJ and I. She just has a different view about how to go about it.

  “Give me the short version,” I mutter.

  KJ pushes his beanie up a bit as he leans in. “Ah, all the usual stats about the captive breeding program. The genograms are pretty interesting. The level of sophistication they go into to get the genetic profiles of the wolves is cool.”

  I relax a little, zoning out just a tad—all the genetic, scientific stuff is KJ’s kettle of joy, not mine. I’m not sure why these emails get me wound up. Dad’s answer was always the same, and mine won’t be any different. There’s no way our arctic wolves are going to be part of some glorified lab project.

  I guess they would be easier to ignore if Dawn wasn’t a Fae Elder.

  “Their first litter’s been born.”

  In an overgrown cage.

  “She even sent a photo.”

  KJ scans down and a picture rolls up the screen. I’ve just decided that I’d rather not know, when something about it captures me. I’m at KJ’s side in a second.

  “Who’s that?”

  The photo shows a grey-haired, lean woman with a blonde teen beside her. KJ points to the older woman. “Well, that’s Dawn.”

  “Ah, I figured that.”

  KJ leans back, all of a sudden interested in my reaction. “And the one holding the cub?”

  I nod, eyes glued to the screen. The blonde girl isn’t looking at the camera, she’s far too engrossed in the young wolf she’s cradling. It’s a grey pup, with a deep red undercoat, and it’s staring up at her with just as much fascination. They’re both far more interested in each other than the camera. There’s something about her…

  “That’s Ava Phelan.”

  I quickly squash whatever emotion was germinating. That must be why she feels familiar. Everyone knows who Ava Phelan is. The child of the Prime Prophecy. The only one we know who carries Were, Fae, and human blood. Dad told me there were high hopes when she was born. What could this nexus of beings mean?

  But as the true inheritance of the legacy became apparent, so did the fact that she, and the Phelans, had about as many answers as any of us.

  None.

  Actually, their solution was to catch wolves and pick and choose who gets to mate.

  I shrug. “And why am I not surprised she seems perfectly okay with the program?”

  KJ turns back, turning his head as he stares at the photo. “She seems pretty invested in that little one. It’s a sweet photo.”

  I head back to the bed, rolling my eyes. Of course KJ would say that. “Well, photo or no photo, Dawn hasn’t shown us anything new. So they’ve br
ed a couple more wolves, so what?”

  Especially when our wolves are doing that on their own, in the wild.

  KJ turns so he’s facing me, his eyes assessing me. Great. He’s got his thinking cap on. “She said she’d do a complete genetic profile on as many of our wolves as she can.”

  I narrow my eyes. “So?”

  “Our numbers are barely stable.” He pauses so I can appreciate exactly how optimistic the word ‘stable’ is. “Most of the members in each pack are probably related. That’s why we brought Zephyr to this pack. The less genetic diversity there is, the more vulnerable the population is.”

  I wave my coffee across the air between us. I know all this. The more vulnerable they are to catching a sniffle or unexpected change. “You want to capture them and breed them according to some lab results?”

  KJ pulls the grey wool on his head down. The bloody thing is like a safety blanket. “I want to feel like we’re moving forward for a change.” He looks away before glancing back. “And I’ll do what it takes to make that happen.”

  His last words pull a sigh past my lips. “You know I would too.”

  “Things are starting to get desperate, Hunter.”

  I know my smile is out of place in this moment, but I can’t help it. I make sure my next words explain it. “Sakari has built a den.”

  KJ shoots up, eyes the biggest I’ve ever seen them. “No freakin’ way!”

  “Way freakin’ way.”

  He holds his hands out, one still holding the coffee, like he’s trying to capture how monumental this is. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  I shrug, my grin as big as his. “Got sidetracked.”

  KJ puts his coffee down and I know what’s coming next so I brace myself. He yanks me up and engulfs me in a bear hug. I barely even wince when he thumps me on the back five or six times.

  He pulls back, eyes round with excitement. “Maybe I should come out with you on patrol.”

  I shake my head. “No need for both of us to be walking zombies. You’re better off here, keeping an eye on what’s going on around the world.”

  “Surely you get lonely out there.”

  I have been… “It’s about as much fun as keeping your finger on the digital pulse of this legacy or monitoring our wolf data.”

  KJ tips his cup in acknowledgment. We chose our path years ago.

  He sits back in his seat, that brain of his already whirring with all the implications. “These pups are going to be the first generation of wolves who may actually stand a chance.”

  “Yep.” Evelyn Island holds the last of the arctic wolves. With so few of them left, inbreeding was becoming a problem. But Zephyr and Sakari are from two different packs. They hold everything that arctic wolves can be.

  The coffee cup rises, stops, and lowers again. “If we get a female from this litter, we can use her to establish another pack.”

  Another alpha pair, starting a whole new pack to grow their numbers and their genetic vigor. “Exactly.”

  KJ slams the coffee cup onto his desk. “We don’t need to consider captive breeding.”

  “We’re not that desperate yet.” Man, it feels good to say that. “Send Dawn an email, tell her nature is working its magic all on its own.”

  “Aye, aye, Alpha!”

  I look away so KJ can’t see me wince. Alpha was a title I was looking forward to, somewhere in my future. Not at the age of sixteen…

  Before the grief can sink its painful claws in, I focus on the positive. Sakari is about to have a litter of pups. Maybe the golden wolf was an omen of some sort. Even if it messes with my sanity, I hope she comes back for more than one reason. Patrols with her by my side could be a real light in the dark times.

  I stand up, slapping KJ on the shoulder. I’m going to get home and see how everyone is going. Then maybe I can squeeze a nap in before doing this all again.

  KJ is already writing the email to Dawn. I allow myself a smile.

  Something pretty drastic would have to happen for me to say yes to that woman.

  Ava

  Achak’s first steps outside after solitary confinement are buzzing with anticipation, but cautious. I wait, letting him scent the barely-there breeze, wondering what it’s communicating to him. A pack was here a week ago, which means he would be cataloging how many there were, their gender, their age, whether they’re something he needs to be wary of.

  Nose twitching, he glances back at me. I nod, letting him know it’s okay. Those wolves were the latest pack successfully reintroduced into the wild.

  As if that was all he needed, Achak bounds out the door and is instantly nose down as he lopes first one way, then the other. I smile as I move out and sit on a log nearby.

  Achak is the most alert I’ve seen him in days. His canine brain is loving being in overdrive as he explores the space around him. He sniffs at rocks and bushes, and I roll my eyes as he cocks his leg and marks his territory. This is where Achak will stay for another couple of weeks as we wait and see whether his clean bill of health stays that way.

  Mom still shakes her head every time she looks at him. He was infected with Furious, as we’ve now named it, but here he is, marking yet another tree. It’s like that incident at the Glade never happened.

  Except Kiowa, his mate, is dead after attacking the people who raised her. Just like Achak did. And her death meant her brain tissue could be tested, confirming what we hoped wasn’t true. And now we’re facing the question about whether there are other wolves out there with Furious.

  Achak trots back to me and I smile at him. “You’re the proof that the therapeutic vaccine worked, my friend.”

  He watches me for a second. Unlike so many of the other wolves born in captivity, it’s rare for Achak to come too close to humans when we’re outside. It’s like once he’s in his natural habitat, his evolutionary brain remembers that we aren’t the friends we want wolves to think we are. I’ve often wondered whether the fact that Achak’s mother was baited not long after giving birth to her litter has somehow impacted him. Even though it necessitated being raised by humans, it’s like he decided he won’t be tamed by our sense of guilt for the loss we’ve caused.

  I respect him for that.

  Achak angles his head like he just heard something before loping away. Dawn always said it’s respect that forged my bond with him. Achak found someone who saw and loved him for who he really was, and that’s all he needed.

  Achak comes up against the chain-link fence that surrounds this enclosure. He paces several steps to the right before turning around. I sigh. This captive breeding site is what saved the grey wolf from the threat of extinction. Dawn is understandably proud of what she achieved here and it’s why she left to work her wonders further north. The program is an amazing feat of compassion and commitment.

  I’m just not so sure Achak would agree.

  I stare out to the mountains in the distance, their snow-capped peaks almost matching the pale grey sky. What would my wolf think of this place? Although I’ve only ever seen him in his magnificent wolf form, I know he’s a Were. There’s his size, but also the humanity I see in his eyes. Which means he lives in the same world I do—one where wolves could be nothing but YouTube clips in the space of our generation.

  I start, but quickly catch myself, when I feel Achak behind me. I hold still, feeling our thread pulse with awareness, and wait. Like he does it all the time, all casual and soft-footed, he comes and sits beside me. I glance at him and I’m pretty sure he grins. I shake my head, my own smile finding life as I nudge him with my shoulder.

  “You’re a smooth operator, Achak.”

  His pink tongue slips out and brushes my cheek. The touch is brief and wet, but it lifts my heart in a way I can’t describe. Love like this, born of respect and given freely, is what feeds connections. It heals the wounds that we can inflict.

  Another sigh falls from my lips as I rest my head on Achak’s neck. He leans into me, offering his strength. I turn so my cheek
is against his red-grey fur, breathing in the scent of musty canine. We stay like that for long moments, trying to absorb the world around us, the one that is undeniably changing.

  I look up at Achak. “We need to make sure it’s somewhere we’re proud to live in, huh?”

  He blinks before his lips pull up again in a grin. I can see where the term wolfish came from. With another quick canine kiss he moves away again. Probably doesn’t want to risk any other wolves seeing him have a moment with a human, like the cool kids not being able to be seen with the nerds.

  My cell buzzes in my pocket. Crap sticks, I haven’t been paying attention to the time. Joshua must be waiting out the front. I get up and dust myself off. The meeting tonight is going to be a big one.

  I head for the door, noticing Achak is back at the wall of wire holding him captive. He’s watching me leave, that wolf gaze of his unreadable.

  “Believe me, my friend, I’d prefer to be here, fence and all.”

  Walking out to the carpark, I brush the plaque that’s embedded into the front wall like I always do. Etched into its surface are the words ‘United we Conquer’. The touch is my salute to Dawn and everything her passion has accomplished.

  Joshua toots the horn of his truck, and I’m yanked back into the world of expectations and responsibilities. Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I glare at him. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

  He grins from behind the windscreen.

  I’ve just stepped onto the gravel when a howl pierces the afternoon air. It’s a familiar one, but it has me pausing. This soulful cry has the hairs on the back of my neck springing up. Achak isn’t happy that he’s been left where he is, that’s for sure. But why does it sound like he’s worried he’s being abandoned?

  I shake my head and climb into the car. Josh turns down the music, telling me he probably didn’t hear the long, painful cry. I mentally shake off the feeling—if Josh heard it, he’d probably be telling me I’m being melodramatic. My guess is that the meeting we’re heading to has me on edge.