by Kim Faulks
I killed the wrong man.
Now, I’d lost my sister too. I couldn’t see him as a father anymore. I couldn’t see him as a leader—for years I’d stopped loving this man, now I started to see him as an enemy.
His blue eyes cut me to the core. “Just tired of running.”
He buckled the strap at my waist and stepped back. “We all are, honey. Let’s get going. We’ve got a long way to go.”
But he wasn’t the only enemy I’d once loved, was he?
“You want me to wait?” North shoved the SUV into park and twisted in his seat. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but concern etched fine lines around his lips.
“No. I’ll be fine.” I touched the door handle and breathed deep.
“You know it’s okay to lean on us, don’t you? Just because you’re the eldest doesn’t mean you have to carry the burden alone.”
I stared at the dashboard as he gripped my arm, then dropped my gaze to his hand. Thin fingers and knotted knuckles held me. The tendons on his arms pulled taut. Veins stuck out like highways on a map. His arms were the same. Thin… too thin. Skeletal. The word took root inside my mind.
I lifted my head, seeking my earth sign brother’s face and those deep brown eyes as though I saw him for the first time and knew we weren’t fine at all.
The sight of his sunken cheeks hit me like a blow. I wrenched my arm from under his touch. His hand barely made a sound against the console as it came to rest.
I lifted my hand. My fingers trembled before settling on the hard line of his jaw. I probed the hollow of his cheek, sliding over the sharp outline of his teeth underneath. We’d been warriors. Once feared and strong—but now we were this.
His eyes widened at my touch. Dry lips parted. My little brother. My North. I tried to steady my voice and whispered. “How long have you looked like this?”
Brown eyes, once so vibrant, reminded me of hollow drums. He turned his head and stared into the rear view mirror and his brow furrowed. “I’ve always looked like this.”
Never had much use for dieting. I like my food running. The wolf’s voice echoed from last night. “When was the last time you ate?”
Silence. Should it take him so long to recall?
“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“How can you not know when you last ate?”
“I don’t know. I guessed I stopped caring.”
I closed my eyes at the answer. We were as close to death as any immortal could be. Sunken faces, empty eyes—hollow souls.
It’s my fault. I’m responsible.
“Don’t wait for me. I’ll find my own way home.”
I shoved the door open, then slammed it shut behind me. The window rode down as I strode away.
“Marcus, what’s wrong? Marcus….” I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t turn—I didn’t dare look at North again, not now.
Gravel kicked up from the tires to pepper the bricks as I barged through the station’s double doors. A deputy glanced up at the sound. His gaze narrowed. His moustache twitched as my brother backed out the parking bay, then the officer turned the hard stare on me. “Seems like the boy’s itchin’ for a night in the cells.”
I shrugged. “Kids these days.”
The officer gripped his belt, drawing his attention to the gun at his waist. “What can I do for you?”
I glanced past him to the hallway. “Morse. Is he in?”
“And who might be asking?”
“Marcus Kane.”
The name met with silence. Those with power in this town understood what my name meant—protection.
“Haven’t seen you around here before.”
I met the deputy’s stare with one of my own. “Haven’t needed to come. Now, is he in, or do I have to find out where he lives?”
His jaw tightened, the muscle bulged. “Wait right here. Do not move.”
I turned to the foyer, listening to the deputy’s boots screeched on the buffed floor behind me. Gold and green filled the space. The Nyx County Sheriff’s banner hung from the ceiling. Two rifles crossed over a row of Pine trees. We had the largest forest in the state, kept safe by one small slip of parchment soaked in blood.
My blood.
The blood oath had done more than keep the wolves at bay. It’d protected this county for over four hundred years. Wolves killed the vampires. Demons slunk back to Hell. Immortal wars had raged outside these walls. This place was a fortress, kept safe by the fear of our name.
And it’d worked… until now.
A row of photos stuck out amongst the green and gold in the sparse foyer. Most of the images were black and white. Missing splashed across the page in blood red. Empty eyes stared at me.
Charles Moore, age 35. Last known whereabouts Nyx County heading east. Five feet, eight inches, sandy blonde hair last seen wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. If you’ve seen this man, contact Nyx County Sheriff’s Department.
Sabrina Fields, aged 45, last seen Nyx County heading east.
Gerund Miles, aged 32 last seen Nyx County heading east. Monica Steward, aged 34, Nyx County heading east.
Rivers Nance, aged 28, and William Ryder, aged 39 last seen Nyx County heading east. I stopped on the last image and grazed the stark paper with my thumb. Smooth edges buckled as I pinched. This one hadn’t curled at the edges, unlike the others, the ink not yet smudged. The pin holes not yet torn. I didn’t have to see anymore.
I dropped my gaze. Zadoc’s been in fine form. No wonder the house stinks of the decay.
The heavy thud of boots echoed, slowing to a stop. “Holy shit. Marcus Kane. I never thought I’d see you again, thought you’d died, or moved on by now.”
I wrenched my head toward the sound. Tired eyes held me. I glanced at his breast pocket. Morse was printed boldly above the pocket. But this man looked beaten. The years hadn’t been merciful, not to him. “I’ve come for my car.”
He nodded. “I know. It’s a damn blessing in disguise. I’ve put this off long enough, I suppose. Come with me. There’s things we need to discuss.”
The deputy glared as I skirted around the edge of the counter and stepped close at the last minute to call out. “I’ll be just out here if you need me, sheriff.”
“For God’s sake give me some damn breathing room,” the sheriff bellowed. “Goddamn new transfer’s under a man’s feet every two seconds.”
Morse’s gaze bounced around the room, sweeping from me to the door and back again. The smell of fear filled the room and under that, resentment. Bitter words tumbled from his mouth as he marched into his office and jerked his head toward a seat. I ignored the motion and set my sights on the row of shelves. Nyx, voted Safest County in the United States of America 1945, 1946, 1947, 1948, 1949, 1950, 1950-1960, 1960-1970, 1970-2000….
“They stopped making them after that. I guess the novelty wore off.” The air whooshed from the cushion as Morse dropped into his seat behind the desk. “Don’t matter a hell of a lot now, anyways.”
“Who are the wolves?”
His head snapped up. Brown eyes sparkled, shining like the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead. “The invaders?”
Red hair, tumbling like flames. Green eyes so vibrant with fear… invaders? “Is that what you’re calling them?”
“Seems fair to me. They invade our land, take what they want.” He pointed to a small stack of files. “I have more complaints on my desk in the last twenty-four hours than I’ve had in the last three years. Shoplifting, stealing, dine-and-dashes, one for assault. Can you believe that? Fucking assault?”
Stealing, eating. They were hungry. “Where did they come from?”
“Who the fuck knows. This world is turning to shit fast. The people in this county can’t even go out at night. I got a complaint from Mrs. Goulding telling me her eighteen-year-old daughter shacked up with one of these dogs. Now I gotta face her brother who works in this same damn station. So, tell me Marcus, what are you gonna do about it?”
I flinched and that cold hunger
of retribution warmed as the fire raged inside. “First of all, they aren’t dogs. They’re wolves. And considering that they could tear this place apart in days, I’d be inclined to show them a little respect. And, why would I do a damn thing to help you? The blood oath is still in effect. It’s your job to enforce it, not mine.”
A nerve at the corner of his eye pulsed. “The last time we met you swore you’d protect this town and the people in it. So, what’s changed?”
I’ve changed and not for the better. “That was over twenty years ago, sheriff. I would’ve thought you’d invest the time you saved locking up criminals to ensure this town stays safe.”
“They cut our damn budget. It’s been fucking pathetic all these years, sending resources south. The safest county is the cheapest county, squeaky wheel and all that.” He leaned backwards in the chair, training those cynical eyes on me, until he continued. “Well, this wheel is squeaking now. Seeing as though you ain’t gonna help me get rid of these mongrels, I’ll go through the proper channels to the Special Ops division. Maybe a few well-placed grenades and some tear gas might move them along a little faster. I dunno, maybe it’s time to retire. The damn badge seems to have lost its fucking shine and I ain’t getting any younger.”
Grenades… tear gas…. The thought of the female wolf suffering the effects of such weapons turned my stomach to stone. “Give me a day or two. I’ll see what I can do. How many are there?”
He shrugged. “Dunno, one pack isn’t too big, forty, fifty at most. Most of them are women and children, some old folks as well. The other one is more than seventy strong, big bastards, too. Echo pack they call themselves. There’s talk about an attack on one of their alphas. If we give ‘em a week or two, they might kill each other.” He clawed the stubble at his chin as though the idea of slaughter seemed appealing. “If it wasn’t for the bodies and the stench, I’d let ‘em, too.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I ate flesh or drank blood. But, as I narrowed in on this pathetic excuse for a human, the need for both overwhelmed me.
The walls seemed to close in as I crossed the room. I slammed my palms on the edge of his desk. The wood splintered under the force. The thin sheeting crunched and cracked. I rode the fall as the desk collapsed. Somehow, under the forgotten pain and fresh anger, my dragon rose to the surface.
Need filled me, tasting like bitter water from rusted pipes. My top lip curled. The sound rumbled in the back of my throat.
Fear me, my dragon whispered, and so help me, I did.
The air stank of fear and sweat. I gulped the fetid smell and tried to keep the hunger from my voice. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. You make one move against the wolves without coming to me and I’ll set fire to that squeaky wheel of yours. I’ll burn this entire town to the fucking ground. Do you hear me?”
His skin turned ashen. The heat of his breath washed over me as he exhaled with a shudder. I straightened from the shattered desk. “Two days. Do not move on them until you consult with me first.”
“Sure. Got it.” His whisper was all I needed.
I straightened and the desk crumbled to the floor. “My car. I’ll need the paperwork for the insurance.”
Morse dropped his gaze, then slid off the chair to the ground, searching the papers that now littered the floor. His fingers shook, scattering the pile as he went until he snagged a form from the rest. “Here, single car collision. A small fine for negligence… it’s automatic now. I can’t change it.”
I grasped the page, then straightened. “I’ll be in touch.”
His sudden exhale haunted my steps as I strode from the room. I’d never realized how estranged I’d become from this world, until now.
Let them die. Let them rot.
Who were the monsters now?
The deputy glared from the filing cabinets as I headed for the front door. His gaze irked like an itch I couldn’t reach.
The wolf’s tear-stained gaze haunted me as I shoved through the entrance. I didn’t know why, I only knew I couldn’t stand to see her in pain. The door hit something on the other side with a thud, then swung backwards, stopping at the tops of my shoes.
Through the glass another young deputy stumbled. His hands flapped wind-milling before he fell to the cement.
Anger and hatred leaked from the man. I eased the door open and slipped through. “Sorry about that.”
I extended my hand, earning a glare. Eschewing my offer of help, the deputy shoved himself from the sidewalk. Specks of dirt fell as he slapped his khaki trousers. “Watch where you’re going next time.”
I took a step forward and felt my dragon move under my skin. “Maybe it’s you who needs to watch where you’re going? And show a little goddamn respect.”
I dropped my gaze to his chest. Officer Goulding. He followed my focus, closing the distance with one smooth step. Teeth peeked out under his rising lip as he snarled. “Looks like you know my name. How about you tell me yours?”
I yanked my head up and my dragon smiled. “Marcus Kane.”
There was no reaction from the officer. No respect, not even fear. Did my name mean so little? The thought grazed like gravel on soft skin.
Easy.
I gave the mortal my back and strode toward the parking lot.
“I’ll be seeing you around, Marcus Kane.”
“Looking forward to it,” I muttered, heading for the road, remembering all too clearly why it’d been twenty years since I ventured into town. This is why I keep to myself. This is why mortals and I don’t mix.
My thighs strained. Long strides ate the distance. I folded the police report and placed it into the back pocket of my trousers. Cars whipped past, kicking dust into my eyes. I wiped away the grit with the swipe of my thumb and lifted my gaze. Hooded mountains, choked with green, surrounded the valley. Run. Fly. Urged my dragon. My shoulders ached with need. My bones ground against each other, eager to change.
We were more than flesh and blood. More than a name and more than a piece of paper. We were the guardians of the ancient gods. Before Rome, before Egypt. All the way back to creation of the universe and the quickening of Earth, there was only one place to call home. Babylon.
Live. Flourish, my mother, Inanna once whispered. Be the bull and the dragon. Be fierce. Be strong, and most of all, be brave.
I hadn’t thought of those words for so long. I’d forgotten how to be brave. I’d forgotten how to flourish. I’d lived thousands of lifetimes and what did I have to show for it?
A piece of paper that now meant nothing.
That thought lingered as I walked. The sun overhead couldn’t warm me and the breeze carried the faint smell of decay. I lifted my head and stared at the mountain. A useless piece of paper, that was it. My life consisted of waiting… and wanting slowly consumed me.
You’re dying. Have been for some time now.
The vision loomed over every thought as I left the supermarkets and the stores behind. All twelve of us had suffered the ultimatum. Your line starts and ends with you.
Could I simply step aside and let death take its course?
Death would be a mercy.
The thought hummed like a live wire through my mind as I strode along the main street until it turned into the highway. Could the Zodiac dragons simply disappear? Inside my head, I heard the wolf’s voice, whispering the answer I feared.
No.
The thud of my steps echoed the beat of my heart. Cars passed, some slowed. I was a stranger to these humans, but they were even stranger to me. Sweat broke out along the nape of my neck as I spied the familiar row of trees in the distance.
I scanned the edge of the road. My crushed Chrysler was in the impound lot, but there’d be more than enough damage to find the place where I’d crashed. And where I almost hit her.
Tire marks marred the blacktop. I peered through the trees and bulldozed through the underbrush, searching broken branches for any trace of her. Her scent was still here, lingering like a memory, calling
me…. Marcus, she whispered.
One pack isn’t too big, forty, fifty at most. Most of them women and children, some old folks as well. The other one is more than seventy strong. Big bastards, too. There’s talk about an attack on one of their alphas. The sheriff’s voice broke through, filling me like a dark omen.
I waded through the grass, following her trail. Deep gouges scored the tree where the metal met wood. Sap ran like blood, still fresh on my fingers. The scent of blood and musk lingered. I snagged a low-lying branch and wrenched it to my nose.
I inhaled the remnant of her, then cast the pine needles aside. I left the scored tree behind as I moved deeper into the forest. Inhaling her fading scent wouldn’t help me find the wolf, or what remained of her pack.
I followed the trail through the shadows. With each step questions filled my head. How long had she been running? Why had one wolf pack come here, much less two? Why were the packs fighting each other? And how had I not noticed that so many wolves were practically on my doorstep?
I found a new rhythm and delved deeper into the woods, until I picked up the faint scent of smoke. The forest was silent. Too silent for a pack of fifty wolves. A pang of disappointment vibrated within as I caught sight of the trail of white smoke. The scent of wolves permeated the air—old, young, men and women.
The earth looked worn. I crouched to press my fingers to the ground. Not too worn… five days, six at most.
A pan lay upside down on the ground. The scent of fat lingered. Adult clothing and a child’s doll lay discarded next to a fallen tree. They’d been in a hurry to leave. The snap of a branch rang out, stilling my hand against the dirt. The faint whiff of male and wolf wafted over me.
I straightened and glanced at the ground.
“What are you doing out here?”
The gravely voice was distinctly male, but which pack? I raised my hands as he circled, coming up on my right.
“I asked you a question. What are you doing out here?”
The heavy thud echoed as he leapt into view. He was big, almost as big as Zadoc. He moved like a wolf, his steps slow and deliberate. Shaggy brown hair skirted his shoulders. He dropped his head, keeping me fixed in his gaze. I inhaled his thick musk and muttered, “Hiking.”