by Sam Hall
“Paige!” Lorcan called, throwing his shoulder into the mirror when it wouldn’t budge, inspiring me to do the same, especially as the other man advanced upon my mate, but I froze in what I was doing when I realised who was doing that.
“He’s mine.”
The black-haired man stepped up beside me, looking through the glass like one would an animal at the zoo as Micah stalked over to Lorcan. I’m not sure why that was scarier, seeing those well honed fists smacking into each other, ready to administer a beatdown. Lorcan spun around quickly enough, ducking under the incoming blow, and the next and the next. Micah wasn’t playing now. The street fighter was gone, now replaced by a methodical killer.
“I don’t give a fuck who he is. I need back in there. They’re both my mates.”
“Yes they are, and you’ll have them back, as soon as you agree.”
“What?”
He turned to face me, waving a hand so my view of the fight was obscured by a grey haze, so that my focus was on him.
“You woke me, little girl, you and your mates. I’ve been forced down into the darkness by him for so long, I can’t remember.” He approached at a slow pace, the steps of a predator. He had me right where he wanted me, so he didn’t need to hurry. “In the beginning, there were wolves and the moon.”
“Yeah, yeah, and she sent you her daughter and you chewed her up. I get it, but what the fuck has that to do with this? You’re letting my mates kill each other.” My voice broke on that, but I charged onwards. “And for what?”
“The man of sorrows is a powerful god. His gentle ways, his lambs lying down with lions. It appeals greatly to humans because deep down, they know that they are the lambs and a divine being that promises them protection in this life and everlasting bliss in the next is an enticing lure. I didn’t take him seriously when the first of his lambs came bleating at our settlements. We were wild, untamed, not answering to anyone but ourselves. They came, waving their arms around like newborn calves, preaching their ways of softness. We laughed and sent them on their way, or made use of them if they kept persisting.”
He conjured a bone toothpick from nowhere and used it to pick his teeth before tossing it in the air.
“But the message he preaches is a powerful one.” The man’s eyes ran down mine. “Love, it’s an infection even we are susceptible to.” His eyes slid upwards. “We loved the moon the best. It’s why she took me and my brothers as consort. The first of our kind were driven by a pack instinct so strong, we couldn’t let one experience something the others didn’t, but I was her first. I pierced the moon with my cock as she slid a knife into my heart, and I was hers forever. Like your pack is yours.”
Those eyes burned unearthly bright now, making it harder and harder to meet. That didn’t matter, he came closer, closer, until his fingers walked up the sternum of my chest.
“You hurt for your lovers, would do anything to be reunited with them, including diving into my throat?”
I nodded sharply, my breath ragged as I fought to suck oxygen in.
“Then we are of one heart then. The man of sorrows, he usurped me. They made our people shun me, thinking the Mother and all her harsh beauty was just another manifestation of their Madonna.” I couldn’t see him, but I could feel his teeth when they were bared, smelling the fetid scent of raw meat on his breath. “They took her from me, just as I will take your mates from you.”
I gasped when the glass cleared, showing a beaten Lorcan and a bloodied Micah, the latter standing over the kneeling form of my love, a savagery I’d never seen on his face transforming it into a brutal mask.
“They didn’t want me, her, or our savage love. They didn’t want nix, our wild daughters taking their fill of the men and welding them to her. They didn’t want us. We’ve been forced into a form that is not ours by them, the lambs. I want her back, my heart sings for her like yours does for them. I need her, Paige.”
My eyes were wrenched away from the imminent threat by the change of tone, a familiar figure now standing over me, his eerie golden eyes soft with it, with his love, his hand raking his tawny hair back.
“Aidan…”
“In all these years, I’ve not been able to get free of the darkness they bound me in, not until you. If you help me, if you get me on the path to reuniting with her, I’ll smash every barrier in your way. You’ll have your pack, your mates, wrapped tight around you, and never have to worry about the wolves at your door.”
He, Aidan, the black-haired man wearing his visage, reached out his hand as Micah pulled his fist back, ready to administer a killing blow. I took it, of course, because I needed to stay Micah’s fist, because the first thing I’d do was demand he heal every single one of my mates, never to be hurt again. A paper cut would be a serious breach of our agreement. Because I knew the agony in those eyes because it was a mirror image of my own, of all the pain I’d felt on separation from my mates. But mostly, because right now he was Aidan, and not touching felt much the same as not breathing—I wasn’t sure how to do either. He pulled me in close, this god, my mate, his lips brushing my ear.
“I am Ulfric,” he said, and then everything shattered.
Chapter 34
We found ourselves standing on the boardwalk of the theme park, all six of us perfectly uninjured, blinking against the afternoon sunlight, just staring at each other. For a second, that was all we could do, then I surged forward, arms out, not sure who to hug first and managing to collect everyone around the neck as a result.
“What the actual fuck?” Lorcan muttered, but his arm snaked around my waist, a whole, unhurt arm. I pulled back slightly, probably looking like an insane woman as I pawed at their skin, unable to believe the acres of golden flesh were completely unblemished.
“You’re OK. Jesus fucking—” I had started to babble, but as the blasphemous words fell from my lips, I stopped. The guys stared at me, still shell-shocked, not having heard the deal I’d struck obviously. The man of sorrows… The phrase stuck in my mind, seeing the countless images of the Christian god people put on walls now, realising how often we swore to God or Jesus in our speech.
“So what the hell—?” Mason asked with a frown.
“Where did you get to?” We turned around to see Bridget strolling over, Gavin by her side. They were picking at pink sticks of fairy floss, a huge stuffed teddy in the man’s hands as they approached. “We went inside the haunted house. It was lame and we finished, but we didn’t see you.” Bridge’s smile grew naughty, her eyebrows wiggling. “Did things get a little…nixy in there?”
We didn’t get a chance to answer as a massive rumble surged up through the deck we stood on, the epicentre being the haunted house to the left of us. People started to shriek and run as the rumbles grew more violent, the sides of the attraction, of many of the attractions, wobbling like jelly under the earthquake.
“We gotta get out of here,” Zack said, grabbing my hand. “Run!”
Easier said than done. We went tearing out of the park, but so did everyone else, a screaming, writhing bottleneck forming at the entrance. Zack assessed the situation, scooping me up and slinging me over his shoulder as he threw himself at the big plywood arch marking the entrance to the park and climbed up it.
“I can fucking climb too!” I snarled, but from where I hung, I saw the guys follow behind, punching holes in the wood to use as hand holds, then swinging over and dropping down to the beach below. Idiot onlookers were clustered around as sirens wailed far in the distance.
In some ways, the crowds worked for us, because we blended in, just yet more beach goers hanging out on the sand. I slithered out of Zack’s grip, not letting him move us until I saw all of the guys and Bridge and Gavin had made it.
“We need to go,” Zack said sharply, but he needn’t have bothered. Screams got a helluva a lot sharper when the main attraction arrived.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Gavin said as a massive black wolf stalked down the boardwalk. The sunlight seemed to stream throug
h him, weakening that immense darkness, but with the creaking sounds coming from the wooden deck, he was hardly weak. He surveyed the crowd like any predator would, directing those silver eyes at the masses as if choosing his next meal.
“Is that real?” someone cried, running backwards, phone in hand, trying to record everything while getting away, but the mood of the crowd finally broke. Though the space was much, much broader, people streamed away in an uncoordinated mass, their flailing and panic inefficient and, in some cases, harmful.
“We have to help them!” I said when I saw people get trampled into the sand.
“We’ve got to go,” Mason said, grabbing one hand as Zack grabbed the other. They hauled me up the rocks, up onto the road, the lot of us running barefoot across hot concrete and sharp gravel to get to the car. It hurt like fuck, sticky tar catching on our feet, but we ran until finally we pulled up at the cars.
“Get in,” Zack barked.
“We left the keys in the bags!” Declan shouted.
“Got it,” Bridget said, fishing them out and tossing them to the two men. “Gavin, jump in with us.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
The car was ringed by a series of tall, muscular men, a particularly burly one stepping forward, massive arms crossing his chest. His steely gaze took all of us in, then the gigantic wolf behind us.
“Take their keys and drive them to the compound,” he told two of his men, who peeled away from the group to do just that.
“Yeah, and who the fuck are you to tell us what to do?” I snapped, as much threat as I could muster in my tone.
“I’m Jake, the alpha your mate asked to meet with. This wasn’t quite the way I imagined it, but beggars and all that. Nick, Heath, send for a cleanup team. Use the gas leak excuse, but make sure to plant sufficient evidence on the scene to back that up. Things got a little tricky last time.”
“Last time?” I asked, incredulous.
“We’ll fill you in when we’re back on home turf,” was all he would say before turning his back on us.
Chapter 35
We all eyed the huge fence as we approached, one of the strangers jumping out of the car to unhook the metal hasp and open the gate when we got close. We were up now up in the hills around the city, and by the look of it, this was a huge block of land. But they needed it, if the houses up on the hill were anything to go by.
“You OK?” Mason asked, squeezing my hand.
“No,” I said bluntly. “Having a metaphysical event, then being essentially kidnapped kinda takes it out on a girl. What do you think the deal is here?”
I tried to say that in a low voice, but the guy behind the wheel turned around and eyed us.
“Sometimes shifters new to the city do dumb things,” he explained, not entirely calm. “It’s on us to smooth that over, keep the humans from knowing what’s going on. You’ll have a little chat with Jake, we’ll assess the damage—”
“And then?” I asked, sitting forward, searching his face for answers.
“And then the alpha decides what to do with you.”
“Right, so not ominous at all.”
“Well, it doesn’t look like a murder house,” Bridge said when we all got out of the cars. We’d been separated into several, only a few of us in each one. She was right—it was a beautiful, sprawling, old Federation style building with a corrugated iron roof and wrought iron lace. A huge veranda spanned the whole place, and Jake led the way up the few steps, onto the wooden deck before pausing at the screen door.
“Come in and let’s see how bad this is,” he said, holding it open for us to precede him, and with a little prompt from his men, in we went.
The inside didn’t look murdery either. A woman looked up from the open plan living room and kitchen area. She was in the process of making a drink and said, “I’ll bring some coffee through, shall I?”
“That’d be lovely, sweetheart,” Jake replied, walking over and planting a kiss on her cheek. She softened against him with a smile. “Let Oma and her ladies know we have guests.”
“Of course.”
All that sweet warmth leached from his face when he turned back to us.
“Come through to the media room,” he said and then started to walk down the hall.
The impression I got as we went was of history. Old sepia tinted photos were hung cheek by jowl with faded or not so faded colour ones. Stiffly posed formal shots contrasted with more casual, candid ones. I knew this—this was a record of a connection to a place, of a dynasty. With a surprising pang, it reminded me of the alpha estate in Lupindorf. The alpha stopped in front of one room and then gestured for us to enter.
Whoa.
“What have we got?” Jake asked a man sitting in front of an array of computer monitors. On them I could see image after image, video after video, of what had happened. Reassuringly blurry, though was this because the camera operator was running or due to deliberate obscuration on the alpha’s part?
“I’ve left the shitty videos up, and to be honest, the vast majority of them are,” the man replied. “The imminent danger thing meant few people got a clear shot.” He clicked on a few screens, enlarging images. “Some of the photos came out a lot clearer, which actually works in our favour. The fact the great wolf comes out looking semi-transparent means we can go with a PR stunt, a projection as the explanation. Our media team is working on a press release right now and will have it for your approval in fifteen minutes. Coupling that with a compensation package for the theme park is advised, so the budget people will be down with a proposed amount shortly as well.”
“Good man,” Jake said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Get the list of people who need to be coerced into forgetting about this event to the enforcers, but go lightly. A few people claiming to have seen a massive black wolf with moonlit eyes helps discredit the whole thing.”
“Of course, alpha.”
Jake straightened at this, looking me then Bridget over.
“Two Spehr girls and what looks like half of the Lupindorf enforcers have strolled into my city without even a by your leave. Your father cleared things with me when you first rocked up to town,” he said to me, “but there’s been no communication since, apart from some rather odd messages from Nancy Spehr.”
Jake’s arms crossed his chest, another long sigh escaping him as he frowned.
“Dad…?” I swallowed the resulting surprise and pain down, even though it felt like a peach stone stuck in my throat. “Dad died.” I met his eyes head-on, feeling the pulsing dominance there, but I forced myself to keep staring. “Nancy killed him, or at least that’s what we have reason to believe.”
“She’s being coy.” Bridget’s voice was sharp, precise. “I’m her daughter, Bridget, though I’m guessing you knew that. She told me what she did. Went full evil genius monologue as she and my dad beat me half to death.” Jake’s eyebrows jerked upwards. “Then she gave me over to a few of the local thugs to seal the deal. That’s why we’re here, why we just wandered into town. We were supposed to be keeping a low profile until…” Her eyes slid to me, seeking what? Acknowledgment? Or a promise?
“Well, that didn’t go to plan,” he replied. “You’re ulva?” he asked me, and I nodded. “But not both of you.”
“Oh, if you mean this harem thing that Paige is rocking, then yes, yes I am ulvasexual or whatever that means,” Bridget said with an enthusiastic nod. But her eyes slid to a less than impressed Gavin, who edged closer to my cousin, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Just putting that out there.”
“You’ve kept a low profile as a lone wolf,” Jake said to Zack. “Some of my boys scoped out your gym, said you weren’t likely to pose a threat. You’ve kept your place clean, no underground fights or anything, and then that changes. I need to know what the hell is going down in my town. Dragging shit in from Lupindorf or any other piss poor little shit hole is not gonna fly.”
The guys began to rumble in response, but I spoke over them.
�
��You want information? I’m happy to share because we need it too.”
“You want coffee in here or the meeting room?” the woman from the kitchen asked, having appeared at the door with a tray.
“Meeting room, love,” he replied. “I think this is gonna take a while.”
And it did. I started, telling the man my side of the story, the guys and Bridget jumping in at different times to flesh things out. We helped ourselves to coffee, Jake’s face schooled to smoothness until we got everything out, including what happened today.
“Father Wolf…” was all he said initially, leaning forward, his arms on the table.
“And why not?” Everyone’s eyes swivelled around to see some new faces and a familiar one. Margaret smiled tightly when she saw me. But it was her, an older woman with a long ponytail of iron-grey hair, her pale blue eyes taking all of us in. “I have told you often—”
“Oma, now is not the time,” Jake replied.
“Then when? You always harp on about keeping the peace in your city. He is coming. Anyone with any kind of sensitivity can feel that. He is rising, gathering in power, ready to wrest back his place by the Mother’s side.”
Jake’s eyes slid to me, looking me over more closely. “Because of her.”
“Because of the ulva,” the older woman replied before sitting down at the table, the other women doing the same. “They are rising too. They’re no longer willing to be contained, constrained, to have the different aspects of their spirits lopped off to fit the mould pushed upon them.” Her eyes met mine, and her gaze had an almost oppressive weight to it. I didn’t know what she actually saw, but it felt like she could see deep into my soul, catching everything. An odd sense of relief washed over me when she smiled. “You’ve been touched.”