Protecting the Pack

by L. S. Slayford

  Then something grabbed me. The world sped past in a blur of hot air, my body suddenly empty of anything resembling oxygen as I crashed to the ground with a resounding thump.

  Pain rippled through me, burning away the fear. The thing had me again, making its way up my body, faster this time, draining me of all my natural heat. My head pounded, and my knees cried out in agony. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. It was trying to consume me.

  Something glimmered in the gloom. My head twisted as the coldness crept up the inside of my leg.

  Salt.

  Every day I refreshed the ring of salt that guarded my house. For thousands of years throughout the world, salt had been used as a purifying ingredient. For witches, mages and wizards, salt was used as protection from all the nasty creatures lurking the shadows, waiting to reach out and pull you into their terrifying worlds of pain and eternal darkness. Since I don’t go out of my way to hunt anything nastier than a bottle of vodka, I’ve never had to keep it on me but keeping the salt ring fresh had been a lesson drummed into kids of witches since we able to talk.

  If I could just reach it …

  My hand reached out, fingers trembling as I stretched them as far as they could possible go, but it was just centimetres too far. I couldn’t grasp hold, and it remained a lifeline hovering just out of reach. All the warmth seeped out of my body, replaced by a blanket of ice as the shadows oozed up past my groin. The creature inched upwards slowly. Panic tore into me.

  Power rushed down my arms in a gush of warmth. I wasn’t going to let whatever the hell this thing was to take me down without a fight. I twisted my body and let loose a spell. Fiery sparks bounced off the damn thing but didn’t do a thing to stop it.

  The shadow slid up my stomach when orangey sparks filled my vision. It was as if a small star had burst, blinding me to everything. A gasp tore out of my mouth, and the coldness dissipated as the thing released me. Wave after wave of orange light tore through the shadows.

  “Alana!” Daniel’s voice rang through the blinding light, his voice strained. “Get the door open!”

  Scrambling to my feet, I stumbled forward, almost missing the first of three low-level steps that led to my door. Daniel’s grunts shot through the air, and the sparks of shimmering light gave me enough illumination to see where the hell I was going. My feet flew over the salt circle and my outstretched arms pushed the door open seconds before my body followed.

  Daniel knocked into me from behind, slamming the heavy door shut. A chill seeped through the air and terror raced through me again. Could that thing get in here, past the salt ring?

  I turned to find a black glow covering the knob, emanating from Daniel’s palm. The iciness faded, and the shadows oozed away, leaving the normal waning light of early evening behind.

  Whatever it was, it was gone.

  I sucked in as much air as I could possibly get, but my mind and lungs were screaming it wasn’t enough. My head throbbed, and I wiped the blood that dripped past my brow. Daniel turned and leaned against the door, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts, his jeans torn on one knee, and sweat glistening against his dark brows.

  I needed answers. “What the fuck was that thing?” I demanded, my face doing its best version of Dad’s expression when he found me doing something I shouldn’t be. Not my fault the damn spellbook was so tempting.

  Daniel shook his head, his eyes gleaming in the dying light. A derisive snort shot out through the air. “Babe, I haven’t got a bloody clue.”

  Four

  “I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”

  “I think I need a drink,” Daniel told me, striding through to the kitchen opposite to where I stood, ignoring my arched brow and the frost in my tone. “What have you got?”

  Outrage flowed through me. Who the hell did he think he was, barging through my house, rummaging in my cupboards? I won’t say that I didn’t look at his arse because Mum told me never to lie – or never lie and get caught – but I hated it when people just walked through my house like they owned it. Damned rude.

  Still, I followed and stopped in the middle of the doorway. Folding my arms over my ample chest, annoyance rippled through me. “I’ve got blood running down my face, scratches all over my body, a stinking headache, and some strange guy in my kitchen.”

  Daniel finally found my stash of spirits. He reached up and pulled out my bottle of Grey Goose, the one I tend to save for Christmas since it was damned expensive. But after tonight’s events, maybe it was a sacrifice I could bear. Daniel turned to me, eyes probing. “Where do you keep your glasses?”

  Cocking my thumb to the other side, Daniel strode over, pulled out two glasses and pushed past me, heading straight for the living room. Wordlessly, I followed again, settling into my favourite chair. It was a green monstrosity, all leather and the back stood taller than I did when sitting. I could sit with my feet curled up under my butt and the leather had been worn through god-knows how many decades. It had been my grandfather’s, one of the few possessions my father had brought into this house when they got married at eighteen.

  A sigh flowed through my lips and exhaustion poured through me like waves. Daniel poured two glasses and handed one to me before sitting down on the sofa opposite with the glass coffee table separating us. Outside the window behind him, the sun was dying, sinking below the horizon, muted colours filtering through the lacey net curtains that hung from the window. It highlighted the straightness of Daniel’s chin, the angular slash of his high cheekbones, and made his dark eyes blaze like emerald lighting. Dirt stained the back of his hands and the knees of his jeans. His hair was tousled, as if a sharp breeze had tried giving him a new style.

  He stared at me, and I gazed back, my features morphing from resting-bitch face to one lined with exhaustion. Even though the earth had replenished my magical batteries, my physical body was fatigued. I sipped the drink, languishing in the burn as it flowed down my throat. “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on or what?” I finally asked.

  “The Academy sent me,” he told me, his tone flat and tired, after taking a sip of Grey Goose.

  I felt the shock stretch across my face before I could hide it. The Academy was where most of the elite of the magical community studied. And, yes, I’d been expelled within the first month. My eyes narrowed as I gazed over the rim of my glass. “Why the hell would the Academy send you here?”

  Daniel leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and cradled the glass in his hands. Those green eyes fixed onto mine. “Someone is trying to get to the wolves on your land.”

  Dread slithered down my spine like ice. Even in the magical community, knowledge of the pack on my family’s lands was strictly on a need-to-know basis. This wasn’t good at all. “Who?” I demanded, the bite of command in my tone.

  Daniel blew out a sigh, his shoulders sagging. “There’s been chaos everywhere just lately. Shit’s been flying all over the east coast of America. There’s been incidents in China and Japan that we’ve had to help with, then the earthquakes a few days ago. No one is entirely sure what’s going on.” Dark eyes met mine, fixing me with an intense gaze. “But I know someone is working with the demons to get to the werewolf pack your family protects.”

  I inhaled deeply, trying to steady my thoughts. And was largely unsuccessful. Any talk of demons tends to have that effect. “Why do the demons want my wolves?”

  Daniel cocked his head, his brows knitting. “How much do you know about the pack?”

  I shrugged and took another sip. “They’ve been on this land for the last four hundred years, give or take a few decades. They can’t leave the land for long otherwise they’ll die. My ancestor was the second child of the alpha who married into a family of powerful witches. We didn’t have the shifter DNA, but we inherited strong magic instead.”

  “And your family has safeguarded the werewolves since when?” Daniel slumped back in the sofa, relaxing into the decade-old cushions, and suddenly looked as exhau
sted as I felt.

  “Since they arrived here. Why?” Genuine curiosity resonated in my voice.

  “Your family have been their protectors since the beginning. The two family lines are joined. They have to get through you to get to them.”

  I really hated this family-protector crap. I’d grown up with it. My mother would always stress the importance of maintaining the protective circles and wards around the house, not to take risky chances, and to always ensure the pack were safe and happy. We’d done it for centuries, and according to my parents, our family would continue to do it.

  Good thing I had a sister to carry on with the family tradition. There was no way I was becoming a parent. No thanks, not me. I didn’t fancy the dirty nappies, baby vomit, temper tantrums, and puberty. Just the thought of teenage acne and bad music were enough to make me shudder. Let Annalise do it. She’d make a better mother than I would any day.

  I shook my head. “Like I said, why would demons want my wolves?”

  “Your wolves are the key to entering Faerie.”

  My body stilled, the glass halfway to my lips frozen in mid-air. Something cold rippled through me. “How?” I asked, hearing the tremor in my voice and hating it. Trembling was for weak people. But what do you expect when a stranger turns up on your doorstep knowing your deepest secrets?

  “No one knows for sure,” Daniel told me, his tone low and cautious. “Only a handful are aware there’s a pack of wolves on Ash land and fewer know how long they’ve been here. But someone, somehow, found out that they are the means for ripping the veil between the human and the Fae worlds. And, Alana, they want to get into that world bad enough to kill you in the process.”

  Fuck. This wasn’t good at all. Most people believed that there was only one world – ours. The normal, crime-ridden, money-makes-the-world-go-around place we live in. But in the magical community, we knew that was a bunch of bull. There are several that we know about – the worlds of the gods, the Fae, and the demons are just a few – and probably a load more that we don’t. It’s like Earth is comprised of layer upon layer, with a thin veil separating them all.

  Thousands of years ago, Earth had been a playground for everything, until somehow everyone had been sucked back into their proper realms. Well, the majority had. Once the veils had been drawn, whatever had been left behind couldn’t get home. Searches had proven fruitless. I’d heard stories of how gods had withered into nothing without the power of their homes, how the Fae had retreated into magical hibernation instead of dealing with humanity.

  Demons, however, were still nasty little buggers, but thankfully only the smaller ones stayed. If any of the nasty, bigger types lingered, even without being able to tap into the power of their own world, they could still do a hell of a lot of damage to ours.

  This wasn’t good. Not one little bit.

  I gulped down the last of my vodka, but it couldn’t burn away the ice that inched through my veins. “I need to get to the pack.”

  Daniel nodded, knocking back his drink in one long swallow. “We’ll go in the morning. I don’t think either of us should be out there in the dark with that thing.”

  Neither did I.

  But it was going to be a long night all the same.

  Five

  I woke up to the scent of bacon wafting up the stairs and into my bedroom. I could give up chocolate, Mongolian beef, and sex and never have an issue, but bacon? Along with tea, bacon was pure heaven. Nothing on Earth could force me to give that up.

  I did the usual things – bathroom, brushed my teeth, and dressed in my usual jeans and t-shirt – and headed downstairs. Around the edges of my brain was a slight ache, the after-effects of too much vodka on an empty stomach. Beams of light filtered through the stained-glass window as I made my way down the stairs, bathing it in warm pools of golds, red, and greens. Designed in a strange floral motif, it once sat in a witch’s house, before its owner had been burnt at the stake and her house levelled to the ground. Somehow it had found its way to Ash Grove, the name of my family’s estate. Whether she had been related to my family, I couldn’t say.

  The light hit my face and sent a wave of contentment through me. Basking in the warmth, it was hard to imagine the dark events of yesterday. The wooden floorboards creaked under my footsteps, the thick oak floor dark with age and countless feet. It was over a hundred and fifty years old, but it’d last for at least a century more.

  I headed straight for the kitchen, ignoring the half empty bottle of Grey Goose on the table where we’d left it the night before. Daniel, dressed in the same clothes as he had on yesterday but still managing to look fresh as a damned daisy, slid three rashers onto a plate. Scrambled eggs and toast followed, and it was all I could do not to moan at the scent wafting around me. Most mornings it’s just toast and tea for me. I’m a lazy cook. So sue me.

  Sitting at the table in the far corner of the kitchen where sunlight streamed through the window, my stomach rumbled as the first taste of bacon hit my tastebuds. Glasses of apple juice had already been placed. He’d cooked the bacon just the way I liked it. Mr Gorgeous sat in front of me with an identical plate. But like me, the contents were demolished pretty quickly.

  “We need to check on the pack today,” he told me, rinsing his plate in the sink. A man who could cook, look good, and wash dishes? I might just hang up my chastity belt.

  I took a sip of the juice, relishing its sweet, tarty flavour after the saltiness of the bacon. “I need to check the refugees on my land and make sure they’re okay. Whatever was here yesterday followed me from the campsite. It might have done something to them.”

  “Fine, but let’s not take too long,” he said, sighing as the edges of his face were marked with frustration. “This is more important.”

  Ten minutes later we paced through the woods. The headache hadn’t completely gone but the long thin scab above my eyebrow might have played a part along with the alcohol. I’m not normally a big drinker, but yesterday had warranted it.

  Nothing seemed different on the surface. A gentle breeze swayed the tops of the trees, whistling through the leaves. Green moss, twigs, and fallen branches from long-past storms still littered the ground. But something in the air unnerved me.

  Apart from our footsteps, there was nothing but silence. No birdsong sweetened the air with their melodies, no deer, no insects. It was as if everything natural about my forest had disappeared.

  Not good.

  But there was something unnatural ahead, or at least, unnatural for me.

  Childish crying and laughter skimmed the breeze, and murmured conversations quickly caught up. Bloody hell, they were still here. Whatever it was that had followed me yesterday hadn’t been after them.

  I strode into the clearing, smoke from the bonfire twisting upwards from the air. It had gone out hours ago, but it would take a little longer for it to die out completely. Blankets littered the floor, small toys chucked here and there. Someone had set up a travel cot and I could see several tiny hands and feet through the mesh walls. Plastic food wrappings had been dumped all over the place, duffel bags and rucksacks thrown in all directions. It was a depressing sight to see.

  No, correct that. It was a fucking annoying sight to see.

  Silence fell like an executioner’s axe the moment I stepped into the clearing. The woman from yesterday was the first to come up to me, still in the same clothes. “Morning,” she told me, her voice intending to be bright and cheerful, but it came across somewhat strained.

  “I thought I told you lot to keep this place tidy,” I said, hearing the edge of anger in my tone. “This place is a mess.”

  The woman winced. “I’m sorry, miss, we’ve tried to be tidy but …”

  “But what? I get the prams and the bags and the blankets, but do your fingers stop working as soon as you finish the bags of crisps? Is that why there’s loads of litter on the ground? Do you have any idea what plastic does to a deer’s stomach?” If the bitterness in my tone was acid, then these
people would be dead.

  A man stepped forward, his jeans caked with dirt and little sleep lining his bearded face. “I’m so damned sorry that we’re not as tidy as Lady Muck likes. We commoners are just not good enough to be camping out.” The scorn in his voice almost matched my own.

  I whirled my head in his direction and gestured to the mess with my hand. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that when you’re in someone else’s home, you do the respectful thing and clean up after yourselves. Be as messy as you like in your own homes, but in mine it’s my rules.”

  “We ain’t got no homes, Miss High and Mighty,” he bit back, taking another step forward. The stench of body odour invaded my senses. Guess he didn’t make use of the stream then.

  I snorted. “That’s not my fault, but it is your fault that you’re making a mess of my home which could hurt my wildlife.”

  A snarl etched across his face. “I’m more interested in making sure our kids are fed than what deer are eating.”

  “And I’m more interested in keeping my home safe,” I retorted. Man, I sounded like a cold-hearted bitch, but there was a reason why my family didn’t allow humans on our land. It was heavily warded, and the more contact normal people had with magic, especially strong magic, the more it affected them. And in a bad way. Think bleeding-from-all-orifices-and-going-mad kind of bad. Tendrils of magic threaded their way from the centre of my abdomen to my shoulders, then down towards my hands. The urge to blast them all out of my forest, to send them screaming on their way, bubbled up. I never liked being around people, normal or magical. It wasn’t safe for them. It wasn’t safe for me either.

  A pair of hands gently grasped my shoulders and the anger melted from me. It was as if a fog had been cleared, allowing me to see what was up ahead. A calming spell. It’s a pity you can never cast one on yourself. I could’ve used them in the past.