Aidan lived with his wife and son in the same cottage on the other side of the estate that had been Kieran’s childhood home. Vincent chattered ceaselessly the entire walk there, about school, his friends, and football, drawing Kieran’s attention to him in a welcome respite from the day’s worries.
Vince’s mother, Sarah, had dinner ready when they arrived and the boy was sent to change his clothes and wash his hands with a good-natured scolding.
"Will you stay for dinner too?" Aidan asked.
Kieran was an often-seen visitor at his brother’s table and he was tempted to accept the invitation. With Colm so strong in his mind, he would have loved to stay with his family, but he shook his head. "No. I’m sorry, I have matters to discuss with Jamie that can’t wait."
Aidan gave him a stern look. "About the sheep killers?"
Aidan was one of the soldiers responsible for clan safety, so Kieran wasn’t surprised he knew about it. "Yes."
"You’ve learned something new?"
"The Crimson Circle showed up on the Byrd farm. Their sheep had been killed by the same wolves too."
"That’s bad. I’d better see if we can amp up security."
Vince descended the stairs making an awful racket. "You promised to tell everyone I won in cleverness," he reminded his uncle.
"Absolutely you did. But in stealth you have a few things to learn still. A herd of elephants could come down the stairs with less noise."
The boy grinned. "I was in a hurry." Then he threw himself at Kieran and gave him a fierce hug. "I promise to track you properly the next time."
Kieran hugged him back. "I know you’ll do great."
Chapter Nine
Gemma sat at the kitchen table a long time after Kieran was gone. For once, the Rider was easier to control than her emotions. The shock she had felt in hearing that her wolf friend was dead had been replaced by grief as acute as if it had happened yesterday.
After a while the grief eased, turning to a dull ache. If she had learned one thing in a century, it was letting friends go.
Now that she knew Kieran and Colm were brothers, she could easily see the connection she had felt from the start. They looked very different, but the familiarity in the energy was there. In a way, it felt as if she hadn’t lost her wolf friend after all. Although she might have lost the new one before they’d even managed to befriend each other.
She felt embarrassed that she had driven Kieran away, but the Rider had been too close to getting free, and his grief had put an additional strain on her. Now, though, she would have loved to talk about Colm with him.
Feeling restless, she shot up. She cleared the table and washed the dishes, but it occupied her only for so long. She tried sitting down again, but a moment later she was back up, pacing the kitchen. She went to the pantry and stared at the contents with unseeing eyes. When she closed the door she had no recollection of what it contained. Then she repeated the same with the fridge. Nothing there appealed to her.
She didn’t need blood, so that couldn’t be why she had no appetite. She had hunted only the day before coming here, her regime strict. She had to feed regularly; otherwise her Rider would become unmanageable.
I wouldn’t mind more blood. That wolf smelled delicious.
Disgusted with the Rider and herself, she stormed into the hallway and picked up her handbag. The expensive accessory looked ridiculous matched with the jogging bottoms, parka and the trainers she pulled on, but she didn’t care. She would go buy some groceries.
Tom’s farm was surrounded by fields and pasture on three sides, the large ancient forest on the fourth. There was nothing manmade for miles in all directions apart from the fields and their stone fences. It felt like living far from civilisation.
In Gemma’s youth, that had been the case, the journey to Epsom parish wearisome. Tom and the Greenwood clan had stubbornly resisted the attempts of the modern world to invade their territory, but other farm owners hadn’t been as resilient. Town infrastructure and suburban housing pushed in on all four sides, creating a pastoral island in their midst like a remnant from the past.
Like the clan, Tom didn’t like trespassers, and the only route out of the farm, a narrow lane that cut through the fields, was private for a mile and a half from the farm. Their closest neighbour, a farmhouse as old as theirs, was located a half a mile from that point. The owners of that farm had quit farming long ago and had sold their fields to developers—the Greenwood clan’s firm, as a matter of fact. Gemma didn’t have to drive much farther before she came to the first housing area. From there on, all the erstwhile fields had been built full of houses.
She was used to the change in her childhood scenery, which had already begun in the 1940s, the need for houses great after the war. She had always understood the importance of change. Besides, thanks to the ever-growing population, there was now an Asda supermarket close by that had been built less than a decade ago. It would do. She didn’t have the energy to drive farther.
The supermarket car park was full and she had to circle it a while before she found a free spot. Her watch revealed that she had timed her excursion to match the London commuters returning from work. It couldn’t be helped. She needed food.
She took a moment to shield herself carefully against the onslaught of human emotions and smells before exiting the car. It was more difficult than it should have been. The Rider wasn’t co-operating and she wasn’t calm enough to effectively deal with it. The struggle made her movements jerky and she pushed the door closed with great force.
Testy, are we?
Shut up. You’re not helping.
A man trying to enter the car next to hers bumped into her and she swivelled around, baring her fangs that had shot down. He pulled back, startled, and she pushed her advantage, unable to resist the Rider when it urged her forward. But the guy stood his ground, not intimidated by her fangs. A wolf aura emerged from his chest and surged towards her with a snarl.
She didn’t even flinch; the aura couldn’t hurt her. The man could, but she was past caring or fearing. He wasn’t much taller than her, but he was brawny and muscled. He looked like he was used to fighting, in large pub brawls and rows after football matches, brutal and dirty.
"Why the fuck did you push me?" She didn’t even register the curse word.
He leaned closer, the wolf snapping his teeth at her face. "Little vampire bitches do not jump on my nose."
"Oh, yeah? As opposed to wolf bitches?"
Good one.
Thanks.
The man growled and his hands squeezed into fists. There wasn’t much room between the cars, but he wouldn’t need any to punch her in the stomach. She braced herself for the impact, not even considering stepping back. She would take the punch and then she would attack in turn. She could already taste his blood as it gushed down her throat. Her body tightened in anticipation.
"Enough!"
A wave of Might washed over them and the wolf flinched. She felt the impact herself, but her shields were up and it didn’t have any effect on her.
But the man wasn’t so subdued by his alpha that he stood down immediately. "This bitch needs a lesson."
"I said, enough. Get in the car."
Growling, the man obeyed, pulling the car door closed with such force that the vehicle jumped. Gemma stood still, watching the alpha pull the car out of the slot and drive away. The moment they were out of sight, the fight left her as abruptly as it had taken over. She started to shake so badly she had to get back into her car and sit down.
This couldn’t continue. She had to get her emotions back in control or horrible things would happen. She had been ready to tear a man’s throat open simply because she was in a foul mood. She rubbed her face to ward off the nausea and tears that constricted her throat. Was this how it had begun with mother too?
Unable to face the world, she started the car and drove back home, her shopping forgotten. It wasn’t until she was almost at the farm that she realised the obvious. The men
had not been Greenwood clan wolves.
Most of the household had already sat at the table when Kieran entered the dining room. Unlike the morning room they used for other meals, the dining room was large enough to easily hold the entire clan. Meant for formal occasions, it was imposing, with a coffered ceiling and gleaming oak wainscoting. Two long tables dominated the floor, but there was plenty of space around them too.
The house wasn’t full, they could accommodate twenty people at a time plus guests, but currently only nine unmarried men and Harry, Jamie’s daughter, lived there. And Jamie’s brother Raphael and his wife Charlotte too. Kieran noticed the newlyweds. They often stayed in London. Everyone was seated at the same end of one of the tables. Only Jamie was absent.
Charly reminded him of Gemma and he frowned when he took his seat. She noticed his scolding. "Is something the matter?" She was a tall, dark-haired, very beautiful woman who had only recently learned she was a wolf-shifter and embraced her new life. Yet she seemed perfectly happy.
"Are you in hiding?" he blurted. Rafe frowned, but Kieran ignored him. Wolves were extremely territorial about their spouses, especially when Might bound the pair together as closely as these two.
"Yes and no," Charly answered calmly, ignoring her husband’s annoyance. "I’ve told my family, but I haven’t told my boss and colleagues, or my human friends."
It wasn’t what he had thought to hear. She was a very dominant wolf and a very strong, self-confident woman who worked as a lawyer in one of the most prestigious law firms. If anyone, she could weather the storm her coming out would cause.
"Why?"
She shrugged. "It’s difficult enough to be a woman in a man’s world. I don’t need the extra hassle."
"So it’s not because you fear getting fired?" Gemma hadn’t actually told him why she was hiding, but what else could it be?
Charly laughed. "My boss threatens to fire me every so often for challenging him or not being content with my allotted place as a woman. I’d say bring it on." Her wolf was very much evident in the smile she flashed him.
Kieran ran fingers through his hair. Perhaps Gemma had a point after all. She faced the same difficulties Charly did for being a woman. Who was he to demand she add to it, simply because he disliked humans?
Jamie entered the room, which signalled the start of the dinner. While they weren’t terribly formal, a shared dinner gave structure to their daily routines and offered a sense of family for the bunch of single men that they mostly were. It also provided a chance to go through clan matters that needed wider attention. Jamie went through these in a swift manner during the first course. It wasn’t until the main course had been served that he turned to Kieran.
"Anything new?"
"Two Circle warriors showed up. Their sheep were killed too, and the tracks led them to Byrd farm. They think their enemy is deliberately trying to cause strife between us." He chose not to bring up the accusations. They would serve no purpose at this point.
Jamie’s gaze sharpened. "Did they say who?"
"No, but they must mean humans. Who else?"
"Could be. Could be something else entirely. Anything else?"
Kieran nodded, his mind made up. "If whoever is behind this really is trying to start a war between us, they might kill again. There aren’t all that many sheep farmers around these parts anymore, and what would be better than the farm closest to us. I think I should spend the night at Tom’s farm and keep an eye on the sheep."
"Alone?"
Kieran shrugged. "It’s not likely they’ll do anything if they notice I’m there. But it’ll give me a chance to track them if they show up. I won’t try to take them on my own."
Jamie thought it over briefly and nodded. "Very well. Contact me if you need help."
"Absolutely." However, he had no intention of contacting Gemma. It would only worry her unnecessarily.
Chapter Ten
Gemma paced around the morning room, a mobile phone in her hand. More than once she selected the official contact number for the Greenwood clan to tell them about the incident, but then she hung up and didn’t place the call after all.
She couldn’t prove the strange wolves she had run into were those who had killed Tom’s sheep. They had been aggressive, but if she had learned anything today it was that even the nicest wolf-shifter was easy to provoke into a fight. And she had to admit she had been the one challenging. The men could have been passers-by on their way from London to Brighton, the supermarket a random place for them to pause.
The clan wouldn’t be able to do anything about the men anyway. They were long gone. And in her anger she hadn’t paid attention to the car they drove, let alone its licence plate number. She had nothing useful to tell them. Would they even listen to her, a vampire, calling about strange wolves?
She outright dismissed the idea that she would use the number Nicholas had given her and call the Circle warriors. That number was clearly meant for important information. Besides, the mere notion she would select the number made her hands sweat. One did not simply call the Crimson Circle. They were the bogeymen of her people.
The mobile in her hand rang and she almost dropped it. Tom.
Fudge.
"Hello, little sister. How’re things over there?"
She could not ruin his honeymoon. "Great. I’m just about to head out for the evening feeding. How’s your honeymoon?"
"Brilliant!" Gemma could practically hear him smile and she smiled too. "Laura sends her love."
"Laura, huh," she teased him. "I’m amazed I’m trusted with her name."
"Yeah, well, it all happened very fast. You’ll meet her when we return home. You’ll love her."
"I’m sure I will." Anything to keep him from asking questions about the sheep. She could lie only so well. "Look, I have to head out now. Amanda is already showing signs of impatience."
Tom laughed, a happy, relaxed sound she hadn’t heard in a while. Probably not since she had moved away from home. She felt slightly guilty for causing him to worry so much, but it had been necessary. For both of them, it would seem. He hadn’t even considered marrying while she had lived at home. "Don’t let her bully you."
Gemma snorted, and related the incident with Amanda and the mud. That had him hollering in laughter, and they ended the call with quick goodbyes. She looked out of the window towards the corral and her heart sank. She would actually have to face Amanda again. Fudge.
***
By the time Gemma had fed the animals and cleaned their pens, her back ached for the unaccustomed amount of physical labour. She welcomed the pain—a reminder that she wasn’t indestructible. She should strain her muscles more often. She had joined a gym with her housemates, but pretending that the weights the humans used were heavy for her wasn’t easy and she got no actual exercise there.
There are gyms for the two-natured too, you know. You wouldn’t stand out there. Or you could simply put on weights that are heavy enough and stop pretending.
Gemma ignored the Rider. Her back didn’t ache that badly. Besides, she only needed to check the sheep and her chores would be done for today. Sheep didn’t generally require much looking after once they were let outdoors; they had grass and water, and the lambing shouldn’t start yet. But she needed to see they were all right.
She exited the pigsty and startled when she noticed it was already dark. She recovered instantly, but her reaction baffled her. She was a vampire—a creature of night, as humans believed, though partly in reality too, as she had spent the past century in darkness, on this very farm. She could see almost as well as in daylight and had never feared the dark. Yet she hesitated to head outside the protective circle of the yard, as if unknown threats waited for her there.
Fear was followed by anger, by far a better emotion to feel. She would not let some killer shifters make her afraid in her own home. She would go to check the sheep.
But she wasn’t brave enough, or stupid enough, to go alone. Maura and Polly were eager to acco
mpany her, hopping on the trailer with their tails wagging. Rissa would have wanted to follow them too, but Gemma had to disappoint her again. "I’m sorry, old girl," Gemma consoled the whining dog. "You look after the house, all right? It’s an important task too." With a long sigh, the old dog settled down on the floor of the pen. Gemma gave her a quick rub behind the ears as a reward and promised her she could sleep indoors that night.
The sheep were grazing in small groups, calm and quiet, but not sleeping yet. Gemma let the dogs into the meadow and they caused the herd to stir, but soon enough all the animals had settled down again. Everything seemed to be in order, but that wasn’t good enough for her. She had to be sure. She could have walked around the meadow and checked everything with her own eyes, but the idea didn’t appeal to her. She shuddered in fear for the mere notion she might actually find someone lurking in the bushes.
She had other options than risking herself physically. She was a vampire and had special abilities. At a time like this she simply had to put aside her hesitations. Besides, she was alone—she hoped—so she wouldn’t risk anyone’s life if she couldn’t control the Rider. She took a moment to calm her mind. Then she turned her awareness inwards and opened her vampire sense. It came alive slowly, her mind unaccustomed to the exercise.
She didn’t actually have a special sense. She had the Rider. A Rider could be so much more than a nuisance or a threat to be constantly kept in rein. It could bestow a vampire with extra sensory input well beyond human senses, provided the vampire was strong enough to handle it.
They would find out if she was soon enough.
About time you let me do something useful. The Rider sounded almost relieved and it didn’t even try to break free. A brief adjustment, like tuning a radio, and information began to flood into her mind. The influx of sensory input made Gemma’s head swim and she closed her eyes. It didn’t help.
A Wolf of Her Own Page 7