"You can take what's in the bag this time. My people will trigger the rest of the traps. You're done trapping here. And pass the word to your friends that this land is off limits." He heard Burke growl for emphasis. The man jumped at the sound and the rifle came up.
"I'd really advise you NOT to do that," Cormac said in a soft voice, watching the wavering rifle barrel. "He likes guns even less than he likes traps." He highly doubted that the rifle was loaded with silver shot--silver was poisonous, but not actually deadly to werewolves--but a shot from a rifle could still kill either of them if accurate enough.
"That ain't no dog." He backed away from Burke. The wolf's lips were pulled back in a snarl and the fur on his neck was standing at attention.
"Not entirely, no." A lot of people up in the mountains had wolf-dog hybrids. He decided to play that angle rather than outright tell the man it was a real grey wolf standing in front of him. If the man was desperate enough, he might decide it was a good idea to come back and try trapping wolves. A wolf pelt might fetch a nice sum. No need to tempt fate.
"He's pretty big. He yours?" The man lowered the rifle back to his side and there was awe in his eyes.
Cormac bit back a grin. Burke would be pissed if Cormac ever referred to him as a pet. He should start carrying around some Milk Bones just to mess with him. "He belongs to himself."
The man nodded, still warily watching the big animal. Now that the gun was not aimed at him, Burke had gone back to a relaxed watchfulness, snarl gone. "I'm gonna go now."
"We'll follow you out." Cormac let the man get a bit of a lead then walked after him with Burke following. Just because the man seemed suitably cowed didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. He had a gun. They'd be stupid if they just walked away without making sure he was off the property.
He sent a text to his father with a quick rundown of what had happened. It would be good for the pack to be aware that trappers were out and about on the fringes of the property. Then Cormac turned his attention back to the man in front of him. They were heading toward the road that bordered the west side of their land. An old black pickup truck sat on the shoulder. Burke and Cormac stopped at the tree line, watching as the man threw the sack in the back then climbed into the cab and started the truck. They didn't turn around until the truck was well out of sight.
Burke trotted off, leaving the trail. Cormac began walking back the way they had come. "Clothes!" came the call from behind a tree.
Cormac took a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt out of his backpack and tossed them into the woods where the call had come. A few minutes later, Burke emerged fully dressed, brushing pine needles from his short hair. "I hate trappers."
"We're going to need to make sure there aren't any more traps."
"We know there's at least one more judging by that bag. He probably just reset it."
"It's too late to go looking tonight." Twilight was almost gone; they'd reach the Lodge after it was full dark. "Doubt anyone will be out this far tonight."
"Your dad will make sure of that now." Burke indicated Cormac's phone. "He send anything back?"
"Nope."
"I hope Finn has to drag his ass out here tomorrow to search," Burke said. "I may volunteer him."
Cormac laughed. Burke and Finn were always trying to think of new ways to torment each other. Burke was twenty-one and Finn was nineteen--the same as Cormac--but the two brothers still acted like they were eight. Finn usually came out the worse for it. Cormac was glad he and his own brother weren't as close in age or in temperament.
Cormac rubbed the back of his neck. "I wonder how many more of them we have to worry about. Trappers, I mean."
Burke shrugged, barely visible in the fading light. "Don't know. We haven't had a problem with it so far. Probably just a one-time thing." When he didn't answer, Burke said, "What? You don't think so?"
Now it was his turn to shrug. "Maybe it's nothing. Sometimes I just wonder what would happen if we were found out."
Burke clapped him on the back. "That's not going to happen. We're careful and we've got all kinds of protections in place." He must not have looked convinced, because Burke asked, "What more do you want? We can't exactly fence off the entire property line."
Cormac didn't say anything else, content to let the matter drop. He knew change was coming; he felt it along his skin. They'd safely lived in these mountains for generations, but he couldn't help but wonder how much longer they could expect these mountains to shelter them. That was part of what drove him to get out of here, if only for a little while. He thought that a new perspective might serve the pack better. He only wished his father was more receptive to him being away from the pack.
They walked on in silence, long legs covering the ground quickly. They were back at the Lodge, the huge house where Cormac's parents lived, in just under an hour. Burke kept walking toward the front door, but Cormac veered to the back where his Jeep was parked. "Dinner?"
"Nah," Cormac called back. "Got some studying to do at the library."
"What about your dad?"
"You fill him in. I've got a test tomorrow." Cormac waved and fired up his Jeep, pointing it down the mountain and towards the university.
***********
Cormac was slinging his backpack over his shoulder and heading out the door to make his World Civilizations class when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, shooting his eyes skyward when he saw the number on the display. He'd been at the library until it closed last night studying for his test, so he'd missed his father's phone calls from that evening. Slamming the door to his cabin shut, he tried to keep the sigh out of his voice when he answered. "Hi Dad."
"You on your way to class?" Alaric's voice was its usual baritone rumble.
Cormac gritted his teeth. His father knew he had a nine a.m. course this morning. His father knew everything and never forgot anything. He felt he was a little old for his father to be checking on whether or not he got out of bed on time. "Kind of, yeah." He started his Jeep. "What's up?"
As Cormac navigated the gravel path to the main road, Alaric said, "I wanted your report of the incident with the trapper yesterday."
The hell? Why was his father calling him about this now? Trying to maintain a suitably respectful tone, he asked, "Didn't Burke already give you an update?"
Alaric's voice went stony on the other end of the line. "I wanted to hear your report, Cormac."
Since his father wasn't there to see him, Cormac goggled at the phone. Really? His dad wanted him to repeat everything Burke had already told him? For what reason? It wasn't like he was going to have any blinding insight that Burke hadn't. Burke was more likely to have caught something he might have missed since his cousin had been in wolf form during the encounter.
"Dad, I really don't…," he began, only to be cut off.
"The report, son. NOW." Alaric used the Alpha voice and Cormac had to tamp down on the whine that threatened to rise from the back of his throat. The Alpha voice wasn't something Alaric used often on him outside of direct pack orders, but he did so now. Cormac tried to bite down on his anger; he hated when his father used the voice on him.
Cormac pointed the Jeep towards campus. At least driving gave him something to focus on besides his father's phone call. He tried to keep his voice neutral as he gave his version of the report. "Burke and I were patrolling on the west side of the property. We ran across one trap--Burke found it by its scent marker--and we ran into the trapper coming off one of the side trails. His name was Silas Turner. I told him he was trespassing on private land and that he should pass the word that no trapping is allowed. I got his license number in case he comes back. We triggered the one trap we found, but there are probably more that he reset that we'll need to deal with." And Burke already told you all of this, so why are you having me do it again? Cormac knew better than to say that thought aloud.
"He have weapons?"
Cormac tried not to sigh. He knew Burke hadn't left out that part."A rifle. Probably
at least one knife somewhere on him too."
"How'd he seem?" When Cormac didn't respond right away, his father's tone grew short. "Come on, Mac. What did you get off of him? How did he seem to you?"
Seem? He was a grubby guy who was having a hard time. He didn't seem like anything. Cormac knew that a smart-mouthed answer like that would do him no favors with his father. Instead he said, "Down on his luck. He didn't seem like he was out there for any other reason than what he appeared to be. He was nervous and scared, but having a guy show up with a wolf--especially one Burke's size--at his side is going to put anyone off their game." He paused, thinking. "I don't think we have anything else to worry about from that guy. Did Burke smell something off?"
He turned onto campus and checked his watch while his father took his time answering the question. He was going to be late for class if he didn't wrap this up. "No, he didn't."
"Do you think the guy is more than he seemed?" Cormac didn't understand what was with this whole conversation. He tried to relax, to force the muscles in his shoulders to unknot, but it wasn't working. He kept waiting for the bait and switch. Conversations with his father always seemed to turn into lectures somehow.
He pulled into the first available parking space and waited. Cormac wasn’t sure how the man did it—maybe some kind of powerful conversation warping talent that came with being the pack Alpha—but it always made him feel frustrated. He wasn’t a drooling moron, after all. He managed to pass high school and go on to college and dress himself all on his own this morning.
"You and Burke were there; you are the two best able to make that assessment." Alaric was maddeningly slow with his answers, and those answers were doing nothing to help Cormac's temper. Why was his father bothering him with this now, before class, when Burke had taken care of all of this last night?
He took the key out of the ignition and opened the door. "And did Burke come to the same conclusion?" Cormac knew Burke had, but wanted to know what his father was up to with all of this.
"He did." Cormac could almost feel his father's nod through the phone.
Cormac grabbed his backpack and swung down from the Jeep to pace in front of it. "So why are you acting like we're at DEFCON 1? He's just a trapper, that's all!"
Alaric's calm voice held an edge. "Because it pays to be careful and you, of all people, should know that." Here we go. This is where we get the usual talk about being the Alpha's son. His father continued on, his voice taking on the tones reserved for lecture. "We've been lucky up here, but luck doesn't hold forever. If I am to make informed decisions about possible threats to our pack, I need reports from both of you and Burke. I needed your assessment of the situation. Burke was in wolf form, but you actually spoke to the man. You may have picked up things that Burke didn't get as a wolf. Understand?"
Cormac stilled. "Yes, sir." He waited for his father to say something, but Alaric remained quiet. Finally Cormac said, "I'm going to be late for class, Dad."
There was a moment of tense silence, as if his father wanted to say more. It passed though and all he said was, "Get going, son. We'll talk more later."
"Okay. Talk to you soon." Cormac hung up the phone and took off through the maze of cars.
He loved his father and respected him, but sometimes he wished the man would back the hell off. Cormac wondered, not for the first time, if his father’s need for control over everything—and everyone-- had something to do with being pack leader. Or maybe it just had something to do with controlling him. Cormac couldn’t remember his father riding his brother so hard, but his brother wasn’t a werewolf either. Whatever caused the change had skipped both his older brother and younger sister, which meant his father lavished all of his considerable attention on his one furry son.
He sprinted across the lot, headed towards a squat, sprawling building that housed the history department. Cormac kept replaying pieces of the conversation in his head as he joined the stream of students heading in and out of the main double doors. He made his way to his classroom, still bothered by his father's reaction to the encounter with the trapper. Burke's report should have been enough. Unless there was something his father wasn't telling him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sek sat by the pool, gazing at nothing. Some of his clan lounged beside the pool or swam in it, clad in swimwear that showed off the lean lines of their bodies. Some wore nothing at all. It wasn’t like anyone was terribly body shy in this part of the world. He took a sip of vodka, leaning back to stare at the stars. He was almost glad the moon was still present in the sky; he had no interest in changing tonight, no interest in the hunt. When the moon was dark, it would mean he had to lead his brethren out as an example. Tonight he could just laze by the water and think.
She was always in his head these days. It was becoming difficult to focus on even the simplest tasks without thoughts of her intruding. All of his plans for the future hinged on her. He hated the idea of her being out there alone, without him, with no one to watch over her. No one to love her as he had tried to do.
His eyes roved over those sharing the pool with him. Their numbers were not what they should be. He knew all of the clan was not present--this was an informal gathering, not one of the clan's required amusements--but it was still less populated than he liked. They were dwindling.
His stomach clenched. Dwindling wasn’t the word. They were dying. At his father's orders, he had put Miami in a stranglehold to keep out intruders, to keep anyone from knowing how small the clan had become. They weren’t vulnerable--not yet--but it wasn’t going to be long before the barbarians would storm the gates. He refused to have his people swept away and lost to time. Not while he could do something about it.
If Kess returned all of this would change. He could revitalize the clan, they could be powerful once again. He talked to his father about the results of his research, but Darius dismissed most of it as ancient history, and would not even listen to what was required. He'd even ordered Sek to stop the research and stop searching for Kess. It was not the first time Sek had ignored his father's orders, but he had to be careful not to overplay his hand. He passed a hand over his eyes, head aching. When he removed his hand, Bomani stood before him, huge and silent as a sphinx.
"What is it?" Weariness made his voice rough. He cleared his throat and looked at the clan counsel.
"Another incursion," the older were said, voice neutral. "Hyenas. It has been dealt with and the parties involved have been removed from the area. I've already informed your father."
Sek got up. His father still handled their dealings with the clan of jaguars from South America. Darius allowed them to move their merchandise through Miami--and it was a good idea to not get too curious about what was being moved--but it was Sek who was in charge of protecting the clan's borders. This incursion was not the first, nor would it be the last. Miami was a jewel that many coveted, but the hyenas had been growing bolder lately. His methods when dealing with interlopers had always been harsh. It appeared the deterrent was no longer effective, or perhaps they were testing him. He had expected it.
He went inside. Bomani followed him without a word. Sek stalked through the halls, headed to the front of the house. He had discussed his plans for the future with Bomani before, but wasn't sure if the clan advisor really believed everything he had told him. He, with the help of genealogists, had traced their particular clan lineage to the Egyptian pharaohs, and he believed that until they returned to the purity of their ancestors, they would never be as strong as they once were. Their line had become diluted, sullied, polluted by lesser creatures. His plan was to restore their line and ensure their prosperity for generations to come.
But to do that he needed his sister.
He opened the front door and stepped outside, walking through the lush grass to face the ocean. He remembered how he and Kess used to take turns burying each other in the sand, the hot sun baking their bones until they thought they'd liquefy. He remembered the humid nights, the black canvas of sky pressing
close on them as they raced side by side through the Everglades. He remembered and he missed her. He missed the scent of her, the sound of her voice as she talked about some ridiculous incident at school, her presence in the sprawling house they had shared. Everything felt so empty without her.
How could he explain the lack of her to anyone so they would understand? It had been the two of them for so long. Father had never gotten over the loss of their mother and had left them to their own devices. But he'd seen to it that Kess never wanted for anything, that she never felt the lack of their father.
And she'd left him.
"Any word?" he asked, as he always did.
Bomani's silence was his answer. "Hire more men. Find her."
"Your father..."
Sek cut him off. "FIND. HER." He didn't care what his father might say about it.
Perhaps Darius had led the clan astray; maybe they were being punished. That could be why the clan dwindled, why no new werecats had been born into the clan since Kess. Sek tapped his cheek absently. It bore more thought certainly.
He felt Bomani leave. Then he stood alone for a long time staring out at the blackened ocean.
CHAPTER SIX
Kess awoke to a gnawing hunger in her stomach. She lurched up, confused as to where she was at first, then settled back down once she remembered the day before. Light was leaking in through the gap where the curtains met, but it wasn’t very bright. She checked her watch. It was only 7:30. She wanted to stay in the warm bed for a little longer, but her stomach groaned in protest and a stab of pain shot through her. Definitely time to get some food.
She rooted through her duffle for her only other clean pair of jeans and slid into them. The fire had burned itself out in the night and while the heat was on, it didn’t really warm up the monolith of a house, so she also nabbed an old sweatshirt and tossed that over her head before heading out in bare feet. Her hunger would not wait.
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