Cutting Ties

by C. M. Torrens

  “Yes, I noticed.” William massaged his shoulder gently and kneaded out some of the tension. “I’m worried about you, August. You hold too much, too many. It wears at you, and you haven’t been sleeping. You need to sleep.”

  August sighed heavily. “I try, but I just stare at the ceiling. Nothing helps. I can’t make the noise stop.”

  “What noise?”

  “All of them, they’re so loud. Everyone. You and them and… her. When I close my eyes, that’s all I hear, and I can’t make it quiet.”

  He winced. She asked so much sometimes. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up.

  August shook the thought away. No. He could do this. He had to. There wasn’t any choice. She had faith in him. All he had to do was just keep going.

  William reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of pills. “Here, take some of these.”

  August stared at them a moment but held out his hand. William poured a few pills into his hand, and he swallowed them down.

  “Come on. Let’s get you somewhere quiet.”

  August followed William outside to the barn of the old farmhouse. He stared off out at the landscape. Dante would be at the gathering. He wondered if he would be able to catch a glimpse of him.

  He shook his head. No, he couldn’t afford to get that close. One day, though. One day soon Dante would find him, and one of them would finish what they started as cubs.

  August ran his hand over his face. The familiar ripples of skin and puckered scars were bumpy under his fingertips.

  William touched his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Lie down and get some sleep. I’ll handle things. When you get up, we’ll feed the hybrids and get ready to move.”

  August lay down and closed his eyes, and William gently stroked his temple. The gesture was soothing and reminded him of when he was young and William would lie with him and stroke his head until he fell asleep. It took him a long time to recover from the wounds Dante left. He had hated Dante then and pitied him for those years alone with Caster before Victor found him. Now he wasn’t sure how to feel about him. They had shared so much and become so different.

  The constant noise in his head began to soothe, and he sighed with relief as he drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  13. Elders and Ancients

  ODIN RUBBED his throbbing skull.

  “Oh by the gods!” Odin snarled, slamming his fist onto the table in front of him. “I wasn’t seriously hurt either, but do you think I planned to put my children at risk? No. And an alpha doesn’t bring his prized sister and alpha born to a meeting he thinks will be attacked!”

  The rest of the table fell silent, and Odin took several deep breaths. “Their gathering was attacked last year. They came here to seek justice as written in the treaty. This is not a pack problem, this is Eveline, and she won’t stop until she gets what she wants.”

  “And what would that be, exactly?” Elder Lorette asked.

  “Do you want a list of grievances she could possibly have? Now I know you’re a little young to remember, but your mother did school you, did she not?”

  Lorette flushed and sat up straighter in his chair.

  “Odin, please,” Elder Bauninsheg soothed. “There’s no reason for that.”

  He threw up his hands. “I feel like I’m talking to the damn walls.”

  “Alpha Dante admitted that he was twin to the alpha who is also making these creatures,” Lorette said.

  “Yes, he did, and I also admit that it is my sister who is the only one who knows how to make hybrids. We can throw out relations, but we all know packs are only family within their pack. Brothers fight brothers all the time for alpha status if there are two and the divide between them big enough. Why are we worried about the packs when the greater threat is Eveline?”

  “They never should have been free to breed like this to begin with,” Lorette said. “We wouldn’t have this problem if they had stayed where they belonged. We should never have agreed to this treaty.”

  Odin’s hands twitched to reach across the table and throw Lorette through the nearest wall. “The treaty has nothing to do with anything. Whether the packs should have been freed or not, it makes no difference. The problem is here and now. And the problem is Eveline. Even if the packs managed to kill the alpha, we still have Eveline, and she will find another alpha strong enough to hold her vile little creatures in his weave and start this madness all over again.”

  “Your father said the Sleeper—”

  “I know what my father said. I was in the same room you were in,” Odin snapped and glared across the table at the Elders. “And don’t call her that.” He sighed heavily. “Her name is Eveline, and the packs can’t kill her. They can try, but they’d have to get very, very lucky. She’s too old.”

  His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he got to his feet. “I’m asking for four bodies to come with me and plan something with the packs. You can all bitch and cry about doing what was the right thing four centuries ago and letting the packs govern themselves, but they are fighters and have been since the dawn of time. We can’t afford to not use them. Like them, hate them, whatever. I don’t care! We need them.”

  He threw up his hands and headed for the doors. “Talk it over. I’ll be waiting to hear your answer in my room.”

  He shoved the double doors closed behind him and pulled out his phone. Dante’s number flashed on the missed calls.

  Velasco jogged up to his side. “How’d it go?”

  “Walls listen better,” Odin grunted and called Dante back.

  Disappointment creased Velasco’s brows. “Not good, then?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll see,” Odin said.

  Dante’s voice came through the phone a second later. “We got your five cleared for tomorrow night. You need to bring some answers with you because the alphas don’t trust you, and if you hit them with I don’t knows, they’ll think you’re hiding something. So figure something out.” Dante sounded as strained and frustrated as he felt. Talks must have been a fight at the gathering as well.

  “For the love of the gods, I’ve been trying to find the answers. You think I haven’t?” Odin asked, heading upstairs to his room.

  “I’m just telling you how it is. If you want a glimmer of trust, you have to bring the answers they want.”

  Odin sighed heavily and pushed open the door to his room. He stared at the place a long moment. The room was trashed. He stepped back and studied the ward around the doorframe. The wards hadn’t been broken. The hybrids had been inside looking for something.

  “Hmm, I think we have a problem,” Odin said softly.

  “You mean another one on top of everything else?” Dante asked, his voice barely containing his frustration. “Does this have to do with the whole atmosphere when you picked us up at the airport?”

  “Yes… probably. We’ll talk in person tomorrow. I’ve got to deal with this,” Odin said. “But Dante?”

  “Yes?”

  “Watch your back. Do you understand me?”

  Dante went silent a moment. “Yes.”

  “Okay. Bye.” Odin hung up the phone and stepped into the room.

  Books were scattered through the room, bottles and vases smashed against walls. Clothes had been tossed from drawers and his bed shredded. His old desk was overturned and legs broken off for no apparent reason except they could. Cabinets on the walls were ripped from the anchors and turned into splinters of wood.

  “Jeez, Pop,” Velasco whispered, scanning the room from the hall. “When did this happen?”

  Odin shook his head. “During the attack, maybe. I was too worried about getting the alphas away I didn’t even come up here. It had to be during the attack. No one but Nephilim could have been up here since then, and the ward isn’t broken.”

  Velasco let out a low long whistle at the amount of damage around the room. “What were they looking for?”

  Odin stared around the room uncertain. “No idea. I d
on’t keep anything truly important here. Clearly someone didn’t believe that.”

  “Or maybe it wasn’t important to you, but it was to someone else,” Velasco said.

  Odin nodded. “That is possible. Help me clean up, and we’ll see if anything is missing.”

  They didn’t find anything missing but a few herbs and a book, but Odin wasn’t sure if the herbs were already empty and the book on loan or not. It was just an old herbal remedies book.

  He filed the information away just in case it turned out to be more than nothing and sat down to wait for the Elders to stop talking and start acting.

  14. Among the Packs

  “OKAY, SO let’s get some lunch. I need to talk to Lady Jutta. I heard the Germans were twitchy at the talks this morning,” River said, leading through the maze of tents.

  Evan grunted. “The Germans are always twitchy.”

  River ignored him and started to head toward the dining hall now that it was empty of the massive group that had packed in to hear Angel and Dante talk this morning.

  She was enjoying talking with people and trying to help Dante in the process. It made her feel the most useful she could remember feeling. To be included in pack talks and politics was exciting. Dante hated the politicking, and he didn’t have much patience for people. Thankfully what he couldn’t handle, Angel could, and with a smooth grace.

  “Oh, come on, River,” Evan complained. “Can’t we just go back to bed?”

  She looked him over. His eyes did look a little glassy. “What is wrong with you? You’ve been grumpy all day, and by now you should be awake. Even Dante’s awake, and he hates mornings with a passion.”

  Evan made a face. “I think I caught the phase,” he muttered.

  River sighed heavily. The phase had been going around a lot lately. It was a shifter illness like the flu, generally pretty harmless, but exhausting. “Why didn’t you say something this morning when I woke you?”

  “Because I thought I was just sore from healing, but that ain’t it. The body aches ain’t goin’ away, and my head hurts.”

  “Damn it,” River grumbled and grabbed his arm, pulling him back toward the tent. She had hoped to talk more to some of the alpha females she’d been trying to get to know, but now that Evan was sick, she could be stuck babysitting him.

  She shoved Evan into the tent and pushed him down onto the bed. “Stay there. Don’t move.”

  He fell back, legs flailing in the air. “Hey! Is this how you treat sick people? Your bedside manner needs some work.”

  “Hush, you. When I start looking like Andrew, you can bitch about my bedside manner.”

  Evan huffed and curled up with a blanket. “I know better than to bitch about his bedside manner. He makes the shit that makes me feel better.” He blinked up at her. His attempt at pleading innocence was amusing. “Could you call him?”

  River sighed heavily. “Yes, but let Dante look at you first.”

  She tapped the weave to tell Dante she needed to speak with him when he had a moment and went to grab Evan some tea and broth. By the time she got back, Dante was at the tent and looking Evan over.

  “Yeah, looks like the phase,” Dante said with a sigh. “It would have been nice if you had caught it a few months ago with everyone else.”

  Evan grunted. “I’ll make sure I’ll tell the plague not to leave me out of the loop next time.”

  Dante chuckled softly and stroked his forehead.

  “Fever?” River asked.

  Dante shrugged. “Nothing too serious so far. With any luck it’s not some strange French version of the phase we all know and loathe.”

  Evan made a face and buried himself under the blanket. “Ugh, I hate being sick.”

  “Get some rest. I need you well as soon as possible. The Nephilim are coming tomorrow night,” Dante said.

  “I’ll be fine,” Evan said, his voice muffled from under the blankets. “Just need some sleep.”

  River set the water and broth on the small table by the bed and followed Dante out of the tent.

  “That came on quick, didn’t it?” Dante asked.

  River shrugged. “Hard to say with Evan. Until it finally kicks him in the balls, he keeps going. Do you think he’ll be okay alone?”

  Dante raised a brow at her. “Why?”

  She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “Because I’ve been talking with the alpha females and, well… trying to help. Besides, you need someone to smooth things over with Master Nuh.”

  “Who?”

  She didn’t blame him for not knowing. He was so busy he probably wouldn’t remember half the alphas he met this week. “The male you almost jumped across the room to bleed this morning.”

  “Oh, him.” Dante made a face and glared off into space.

  River smirked. “His mate is very nice. Her name is Seda.”

  “Where are they from?”

  “Turkey,” River said and looked him over. “Look, you need friends when the Nephilim come, or it could get really ugly, really quick. I’m trying to help you make more friends. If something goes wrong tomorrow night—”

  “I know.” He frowned and stroked her cheek. “I don’t like you without a heavy.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl, you know. Not the cub I used to be.”

  “You say that like it was so long ago, little sister.”

  “It just feels like it.”

  Dante stared off thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. “Fine. Keep the weave open and be careful. Help me keep an eye on Evan?”

  “Of course.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Don’t try to kill any alphas.”

  River chuckled. “Do as you say, not as you do.”

  Dante grinned. “Exactly right.”

  RIVER SPENT most of the rest of the day talking to people. She checked on Evan from time to time, made sure he ate and drank before tucking him back under the blankets and returning to the gathering.

  It was actually kind of fun. She had never spent time with shifters outside her pack before. She didn’t have to worry about saying something they didn’t discuss with humans, and she didn’t have to worry about how she acted or what she did. They were all shifters just like her, and that bit of freedom was new and exciting.

  And when the sun finally set, everything relaxed. The politics disappeared, and people began to wrestle and play, boast and drink, tell stories and sing.

  She was fascinated by some of the stories. Of course she had been drilled in shifter history since she came into the pack, but in front of the fire, she watched in awe as scenes were acted out and songs were sung.

  She felt Dante move behind her, and he rested his hand gently on her shoulder as she watched history play out in the firelight, the final major battle between the Nephilim and the Packs during the last war. The mock fight was vicious and blood was drawn. She jumped back, and Dante wrapped his arms around her.

  “Don’t worry,” Dante soothed. “They won’t damage each other too badly. The blooding is tradition with this story because we always remember when the scent of shifter blood hits our senses. You will never forget it.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. What do you think of when you smell that scent?”

  River swallowed hard and looked over her shoulder at him. “You know what I think of. You think of it too.”

  She didn’t have the nightmares anymore, but memories of Caster were clear in her mind.

  “Yes. Yes, I do. But this too you will remember. A much better memory. A mock battle and a history of the day we fought the last battle to be free.”

  She turned to face him. For the first time, she realized how much older he looked than he did when they first met. How much the strain of everything was wearing at him.

  “I know what you worry about now. In the night. Why you don’t sleep until you must. Why you work so hard every day.”

  Dante’s face went very blank as he stared into the fire. “And what is that?”

&
nbsp; “You think she might kill us all. With… him and her monsters.”

  “Let’s try not to let that happen.”

  “We won’t,” River told him, throwing her conviction behind her words.

  He smiled. “That’s right. We won’t.”

  DANTE SAT across the tent, watching Evan breathe as the sun set on the night Odin was to arrive. He and Angel had decided to meet his group well before they reached the gathering and escort them into the territory with the aid of Étienne’s pack and heavies. Nothing could go wrong tonight, and problems were already cropping up. Evan was still sick, which meant River would be without a heavy on the night she could possibly need him most.

  Since Evan got sick, they had both been pouring herbal teas down his throat, trying to get him better faster, and though his fever had broken, he was having trouble controlling his shift, which was one of the major symptoms of the phase. The shifting back and forth was exhausting, and in its most extreme form, could lead to serious injury or death in the old or weak.

  His pack brother, Paul, had a terrible time when they all got the phase over the winter. Old injuries made it extremely painful for him to shift. Dante had been seriously worried about him. He pulled through all right, but Dante hoped they didn’t bring this second round of the phase back home with them.

  River rushed happily into the tent, holding a small bag of something. “Found it, finally.” She laughed and held up her bag.

  “Found what?” Dante asked.

  “Elderberry. It worked wonders over the winter. So much harder to find here,” River said. “Andrew was feeding this to us all when we were sick. Elderberry and ginger tea. I called Andrew to get the exact recipe.” She measured out portions of each and put it in a cup. “I swear I’ve heard more cures for the phase than I thought possible.”

  “There is no cure. It’s just got to run its course.”

  “I know, but a lot of people swear by the most horrid mixtures I’ve ever heard.” She chuckled. “I’m sure the poor afflicted claim to be cured just to avoid drinking the concoctions.”