“The Stone River alpha can’t officially advise the Cedar Ridge alpha on matters of inter-pack relations,” she said finally, her words clipped and precise. “Were the Stone River alpha to do so, the remainder of the Senate might interpret that as evidence of a political alliance and might therefore feel compelled to make alliances of their own. The Stone River alpha would prefer to avoid such complications.”
I huffed and blew a strand of hair out of my face. “In other words, Callum can’t help me.”
“Officially.”
I translated Sora’s reply to mean that Callum could and would help me unofficially. The trick would be figuring out how exactly a thing like that might work.
“You’re not an alpha,” I said slowly, and this time, I wasn’t throwing the words in Sora’s face. “So technically, if you were to give me advice, it would be …”
“Unofficial?” Sora suggested.
“Exactly.”
Now the reason that Sora was answering the phone at Callum’s house was perfectly clear. Callum couldn’t tell me what to do, but he could send me cryptic homemade gifts and arrange for another knowledgeable source to answer his phone when I happened to call.
It was unfortunate that the knowledgeable source in question was related to the alpha I had in my sights.
“What has Callum told you about why I’m calling?” I asked, wondering how much Sora knew—and, for that matter, how much of what was happening now Callum had foreseen.
“Callum said you might have some questions, and that since my son is now in your pack, if I wanted to answer them for Devon’s sake, that decision was up to me.”
To the best of my knowledge, Devon hadn’t spoken a word to Sora since she’d carried out Callum’s sentence against me. He’d left their pack and hadn’t been home since. Maybe Sora figured this was the least she could do for Dev, and if not mentioning Shay prevented her loyalties from being split …
Well, I wasn’t above telling half-truths myself.
“I need to know if there’s a way for a Were to transfer into another pack against his alpha’s will.”
“Both alphas have to sign off on all transfers.” Sora’s answer was immediate—and not at all what I wanted to hear. “The first alpha relinquishes his hold over the wolf, who then becomes a lone wolf, and the lone wolf can then be claimed by another alpha, with or against his will.”
“What if the first alpha is abusive?” I asked, knowing even as I did that it was a wasted question. Sora had broken my ribs at Callum’s request, and she was my best friend’s mother. Words like abuse didn’t have the same kind of meaning to people with animal instincts. “What if he’s doing horrible things to his pack for no reason other than that he can?”
That question was a little more precise, but still, it didn’t get me the answer I wanted.
“What one alpha does with his pack is not another alpha’s business,” Sora said. “However …” She trailed off after a moment. “Callum has been known, on occasion, to make it in another alpha’s best interest to cut ties with a particular wolf.”
“Well, that’s nice and vague.”
Sora didn’t respond, but I could picture the expression on her angular features almost exactly. It was an expression that said, It’s a miracle nobody has strangled you yet, you obnoxious human child. Since Sora was trying to help me, I attempted to dial the attitude back a notch.
“So you’re saying that if I want another alpha to sign off on letting one of his wolves go, I should …”
“Give him something he wants more than he wants to keep the wolf.” Sora paused, and I sensed her debating whether she should continue talking. “Before you were born, Callum’s territory used to include the northern part of Oklahoma. He gave it up in exchange for Marcus.”
“Marcus?” I couldn’t help the incredulous tone in my voice. Marcus was a greasy, antisocial, horrific a-hole who’d hated me for as long as I could remember. I was pretty sure he hated everyone except for Callum, to whom he was unfailingly loyal.
And now I knew why.
“That’s all I’m willing to tell you, Bryn. Just tread carefully here.”
“Is that the nice way of telling me not to do anything stupid?”
Sora let out a sharp bark of laughter. “That’s the nice way of saying that if you misstep and put yourself in danger, I know Devon will follow you, right to the brink of hell. He may hate me now, but we’ve got the next thousand years to get past that, and I’d prefer you not get him killed before he has a chance to become what he’s meant to be.”
I was going to reply, but before I could, I heard a click, and then the other side of the line went dead. Sora had hung up on me, and I was no closer to finding a loophole than I’d been before I called.
Great. Just great.
To save Lucas, I’d have to give Shay something he wanted more than a punching bag, and without even asking, I knew what he’d want in return.
A female Were.
CHAPTER SIX
THE NEXT MORNING, I WOKE UP WITH A FEELING of dread in my stomach and an unnatural heat playing across the surface of my skin. The smell of smoke was a ghost in my memory, and though I didn’t remember the details of the dream I’d just had, a sense of déjà vu, hazy and ominous, seemed to cloud the rest of my thoughts.
A night plagued by nightmares I couldn’t quite remember had done little to shed light on my current predicament. In an ideal world, I would have woken up knowing exactly what to do and how to read between the lines of what Sora had told me to derive a solution that didn’t involve either turning Lucas back over to Shay or brokering some kind of deal with him and trading one wolf for another.
This, however, wasn’t an ideal world, and no matter how hard I tried to think of an answer, I had nothing.
At this point, the best I could do was stall. Until Shay contacted me, asking if Lucas was staying at the Wayfarer, I was under no obligation to tell him, and Shay couldn’t come here to get Lucas unless I gave him permission. With any luck, distance would have strained Lucas’s bond with the Snake Bend Pack enough that his alpha wouldn’t be able to pinpoint his exact location, and by the time Shay figured out where Lucas had gotten off to—assuming Lucas had been straight with us about how he’d gotten here in the first place—I’d have managed to think of a way to play the Snake Bend Alpha, the same way Callum had been expertly playing all of us for years.
Unfortunately, unlike Callum, I didn’t catch even minor glimpses of the future, so I had no way of knowing that my “wait and see” plan would be effective for less than three hours.
Shay contacted all the alphas, including me, via email, which just felt wrong. Our world was brutal, the kind of place where issues of dominance were settled with a fight to the death. The idea of Shay sitting down and typing out a polite query about whether any of the other alphas had seen his “missing runt” was completely bizarre.
It also didn’t leave me any wiggle room regarding how or when to reply. Once the other alphas started sending in their statements, I had no choice but to send mine and CC it for the rest of the Senate alphas to view.
Treading lightly, I channeled Callum and wrote a polite but pointed reply—one that said that Shay’s wolf had trespassed on my territory, that he’d been out of control of his Shift, and that I’d gladly send the trespasser back Shay’s way as soon as I determined whether he’d been acting on his own agenda or someone else’s, and assured myself that he wouldn’t be a future threat.
Shay didn’t have to agree to give up his claim on Lucas, but by Senate Law, I had the right to deal with trespassers as I saw fit. And if the other alphas wanted to read between the lines and infer that perhaps Shay had sent Lucas here to kill me …
Well, I figured that couldn’t hurt.
After I hit send, I spent the next three hours refreshing my inbox, but the internet was silent, and I was left wondering if I’d done the right thing, or if I’d somehow crossed a line in the sand already.
With only
a few hours left in my Thanksgiving break, I tried to distract myself with homework, and when that didn’t work, I played with the twins. Unfortunately, even Katie’s puppy antics couldn’t take my mind off the threat hovering above me and mine, so I went for a walk and ended up at Cabin 13.
The others wouldn’t be happy that I’d gone to see Lucas alone, but I figured they could deal. I wasn’t happy about having to choose between sending an abused kid back to his abuser and risking the safety of people I’d sworn to spend the rest of my life protecting.
I opened the door to the cabin, half expecting Mitch to be standing guard, but he was nowhere in sight, and my pack-sense sent an unpleasant chill down my spine, a way of reminding me that taking your eyes off the enemy was always a mistake.
Even if the enemy in question was a person I was desperately trying to save.
As I came to the doorway of Lucas’s bedroom, I wondered if I would get over feeling this way around him, or if as long as Lucas was Snake Bend, a part of me would always want to bare my teeth at his presence on our land. He wasn’t a threat, but he also wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t sure I could convince my gut that there was a distinction to be made there.
Lucas, however much he didn’t want to be, was an extension of Shay. He smelled like Shay, and Shay would be a presence—no matter how faint—in his mind, the same way I was connected to Maddy, to Lake, to Dev.
“Is your alpha trying to talk to you through your pack-bond?” I asked, not bothering to say hello as I entered the room. “Is he telling you to come home?”
Except in the most extreme circumstances, werewolves couldn’t disobey their alphas. The stronger ones—purebreds, like Dev, or Resilients, like Chase and the rest of the Changed Weres in our pack—could fight it, but even for them, holding out against a direct order was like trying to keep from blinking when a sharp object was flying straight for your eye.
“He’s trying,” Lucas murmured, face downcast, body stiff, “but I’m too far away.”
That smacked of the truth to me, even though I didn’t have a Were’s ability to smell lies. A wolf’s tie to his pack depended on how close he was to its other members—especially the alpha. The same principle that made the Wayfarer unbearably loud for Chase would have shielded Lucas more and more from Shay’s influence the farther away from Snake Bend territory he got.
“Your alpha emailed looking for you.” I wanted to soften my words but instead found myself saying them in a completely neutral tone and observing Lucas’s reaction. I’d spent too many years watching Callum do the same thing, and the experience had left its mark. “Shay wants you returned. I stalled, but unless we figure out a way around it, I’m going to have to send you back.”
“No.”
Lucas had opened his mouth to say the word, but the sound came from behind me. I turned.
Standing in the doorway, Maddy didn’t elaborate on her no. She didn’t challenge me. She just came to sit on a chair next to Lucas’s bed, her legs tucked under her body, her head tilted slightly toward his. She didn’t say another word. She didn’t introduce herself. She just sat there, watching over him, and his body curled toward hers, like they were pups in the same litter.
Like he could feel her presence the way I’d always felt Chase’s.
“Maddy.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her to be careful, but then I realized the irony of the situation: of the two of us, she was the one more capable of fighting back if Lucas made a move. Still, I didn’t like it. Didn’t like the idea that someone—anyone—might hurt her, after everything she’d been through already.
I’ll be careful, Bryn, Maddy promised silently, but someone has to keep an eye on him. It might as well be me.
I brought my gaze to meet Lucas’s. “I’m going to try to find a way to help you, but you need to know up front that I won’t trade my pack’s safety for yours. If I have to send you back to Shay to keep them safe, I’ll do it.”
I hated myself for saying those words and hated Callum for raising me to be the kind of person who could say them—but they just kept coming.
“If you lay a hand on Maddy, if you hurt her or any of mine in any way, I’ll kill you myself.”
As an alpha, I was bound by those words, and in that moment, I didn’t have a single doubt about my ability to follow through on the threat. Maddy could probably take care of herself, but if Lucas wasn’t what he appeared to be, if he attacked her or tried to force his will on hers in any way, Shay would be taking home a body instead of a live wolf.
On the bed, Lucas lowered his head in a sign of submission, and even from a distance, I could see an angry red scar on the back of his neck. Its edges were jagged, like it had been carved into his flesh with a knife, and the shape—a four-pointed star laid over a half circle—looked too deliberate to have been the product of anything but a steady hand.
How could Shay have done something like that? How could anyone?
Seeing Lucas sitting so close to Maddy made me imagine her in his shoes, and I knew without probing the edges of her mind that she was thinking the same thing, seeing herself—and the things she’d survived at the hands of the Rabid—in this boy.
“Unless you force me to act, I won’t turn you over until I have to.” I addressed Lucas, though he seemed to know that I was saying the words for Maddy’s benefit as much as his. “But right now, I don’t really have a plan, Lucas, so if you’ve got any ideas here, I’m all ears.”
Lucas retreated, pressing himself back and down into the mattress, and I cringed at the motion and the knowledge that I’d just established dominance over a person who had experience with only one kind of alpha.
“He doesn’t know anything.” Maddy lifted her chin and looked just over my left shoulder, a guarded, faraway gaze in her eyes. “They don’t want you to think. They don’t want you to believe it could be different.” She turned her face away from mine, but she didn’t look directly at Lucas, either. “It takes a while.”
I know, Maddy, I told her silently. I know.
Out loud, I directed my words to the boy on the bed. “I’ll give you as much time as I can, Lucas, but you need to know that I’m not magic. I’m not fearless. I can’t just pull a miracle out of my hat.”
“You’re Bryn.” Lucas lifted his head slightly. “That’s going to be enough.”
After a long moment’s consideration, I left Lucas under Maddy’s watchful eye, confident that, if nothing else, she wouldn’t let him slip off into the night unnoticed, leaving the rest of us to explain to the Senate exactly how I’d gone about losing a wolf that I’d already admitted to having, one who another alpha was within his rights to want back, once I’d dealt with the matter of trespassing in the first place.
Call me if you need me, Maddy, I told her silently, not even realizing until after I gave the order that to her ears, my mind-voice vibrated with the kind of power most werewolves couldn’t deny.
I’ll call you if I need you, Bryn, Maddy replied. I always do.
She trusted me, relied on me the way I’d once counted on Callum, before he’d taught me that sometimes things—and people—got caught in the crossfire of the greater good.
“Hey, you.” Chase had been expecting me, which was ironic, because even after I’d left Cabin 13 and started walking toward the woods, I hadn’t realized I was looking for him.
“Hey,” I replied, all too aware of the difference between the last time we’d had this conversation and now. There were times when it felt like Chase and I were the only two people in the world, when I was a girl and he was a boy and everything else just faded away.
This was not one of those times.
“I’m not sure there’s a way out of this.” I wouldn’t have been able to admit that to anyone but Chase, the same way he wouldn’t have wanted Devon to know that this year had been his first real Thanksgiving. “I can stall Shay, but eventually, unless I think of something else …”
The rest of that sentence, the very idea of sending Lucas back to
Shay, was unthinkable.
What kind of person could do something like that?
What kind of alpha would I be if I refused and my pack got hurt as a result?
“You do what you have to do,” Chase said in a way that told me he’d crossed lines and seen the point of no return firsthand himself. “You can’t save everyone, Bryn. You do what you can, when you can. You try. But sometimes, at the end of the day, you just have to take care of yourself.”
I couldn’t help giving Chase an incredulous look. “Who said anything about taking care of myself?”
I was worried about Maddy, about Lucas, about the precedent I might set if I stepped on the wrong side of certain political lines. I was worried about the pack, about being the kind of alpha that Callum was, and about not being that kind of alpha. The last thing on my mind was me.
Chase reached up and brushed a stray hair out of my face, his thumb tracing a gentle line from my cheekbone to my jaw. “I know,” he said, “but you can’t blame a guy for trying.”
The rest of his words flowed straight from his mind into mine. Your job is watching out for the pack, Bryn. Let my job be watching out for you.
He held up his palm, waiting for me to accept his offer. After a long moment, I mimicked the motion, pressing my hand against his. A jolt of energy ran up the length of my arm.
“If you want to watch out for me,” I said, as single-minded as a dog with a bone, “then help me find a way out of this that doesn’t involve sending Lucas back to Shay.”
Chase didn’t reply. He stared at me for several seconds, and then he gave in to the wolf inside. He leaned forward, rubbed his cheek against my neck—and turned to walk away.
“Where are you going?” I called after him, wanting to hear the answer from his lips, even though I could have pulled it from his mind.
Chase turned, his features caught in the light of the moon. He didn’t say anything, but suddenly, I knew.
Chase, who rarely spoke to the people in our own pack, was going to talk to Lucas.
Jennifer Lynn Barnes Anthology Page 37