“I just wanted to say thanks for saving my sister. I was stupid, and I didn’t mean to put her in harm’s way. He promised he wouldn’t hurt her.”
I thought about scolding him, but he looked like he was doing a just fine job of beating himself up. I knew the feeling. My mind wouldn’t let go of the sense I should’ve done something to save David. Instead I asked, “What did Wolfsheim promise you in exchange for allowing him to get to her?”
“That he would show me how to manage my CLS so I wouldn’t have to go through the reversal process.” He looked at me with an expression of hope. “There are some things I like about it, but I don’t have the knowledge or control you do. What you did in the cave, how you kept things from happening too early or late, how easily you changed, how you manage among all this stimulation—that’s what I want to learn.”
Anger flared at Dimitri for allowing his great nephew to struggle for so long, particularly as it had put him and Selene in danger. Just as David had taken me under his wing, I could do so for Curtis, and I nodded.
“So you don’t want to be a reversal candidate anymore.”
“Not if I can learn how to deal with this.”
“Fine, I’ll teach you.” I gestured to my glass. “We’ll start with the important things tonight. The first step to becoming a Scottish werewolf—how to use that enhanced sense of smell to choose your favorite whiskey.”
He grinned. “I think I’m going to like this training program.”
Finally, when I got home, I opened the manila envelope Wolfsheim had taunted me with. I had to bury one father figure at a time, and even though the ghost had bothered me leading up to the confrontation, it was hard to say goodbye.
I slit the edge, and several letters and telegrams spilled out. Words floated up to me from the letters as I skimmed through them. Hot on the trail of the torc… Getting close… Tip he’s in Belgium… Double crossing, betrayal, and lies.
And then there was the picture of my father’s body on the battlefield with wounds I had assumed were shrapnel, but now I saw for what they were—blood magic eruptions. This time I could look at it without shuddering. As horrific as it was, knowing exactly how he’d died and at whose hands gave me some peace. Knowing I had the information in my possession and intended to complete David’s collection of letters and other information about the Order seemed to have allowed his soul to rest as well.
I put it all away.
31
Six Months Later
I sheltered Selene from the cold wind as much as I could, but it blew with bitter persistence and nipped at our noses and any other exposed parts.
“Why do you live in this part of the world, again?” she asked once we reached my office suite, which had moved to the ground floor at Lycan Castle after Morena resigned her position as Council Leader and the others had voted me into the position. We unwound our scarves and shed our coats in front of the roaring fire.
“Because the women are so gorgeous,” I told her with a kiss.
“I’m not Scottish, you ass,” she said and smiled up at me.
“I’d rather attend to your ass.” I pinched her adorable behind. “And you’ve got Scottish blood in you.”
“It’s a good thing I’m giddy about the news I have for the Council. Otherwise you’d be in big trouble.”
We tried to sober our expressions before entering the Council Chamber, but I had to avoid eye contact with her so I wouldn’t break out in a grin. Finally, after our call to order and approval of minutes, we moved into business.
I looked around the table at a different set of faces than I’d faced when getting approval for the Institute. Of course Cora Campbell had abdicated her position, and she’d moved with Bartholomew to Oban. They were trying to keep a low profile since Garou and I unearthed evidence that Bartholomew had inappropriately used his influence to seduce female cult members who worked at his company, which allowed us to employ sexual harassment charges. There was also questionable use of charitable funds, and I suspected they’d both be in jail before the end of the following year.
Of course Morena had left. She said she wanted to take time to work on her relationship with and care for her daughter, whom Wolfsheim had brainwashed. Dimitri had “retired” after I assumed leadership of the Council, no doubt in protest and to hide from the charges of conspiracy to murder Otis LeConte. Replacing his bloodline had been an easy task.
Also present were former members of the Young Bloods and Purists, both young relatives of the previous Council members, and I hoped they would represent the interests of modern werewolves. Finally, Selene attended occasionally as the Institute liaison. She was so excited I allowed her to speak first.
“I am happy to report that our first experimental reversal appears to have been a success,” she said. “Genetic tests are showing no evidence of CLS in that participant’s cells, and all symptoms have been remitted for weeks.”
Everyone burst into applause with cries of, “Bravo!” Once the room settled down, one of the new members, a young woman named Lacey, asked, “What’s next, then?”
“We have to see how the other four subjects fare, although their cases are looking hopeful as well, both with regard to physical reversal and psychological adjustment.”
“But will it be available to genetic lycanthropes?” Lacey persisted. “Will you include some of them in your next phase?”
“We are currently working on a protocol, which will have to be voted on by the Council, of course. We anticipate the psychological burden on those participants to be higher, as it has been part of your identity since adolescence. Plus, we need to develop an assessment tool to determine what reasons are strong enough for someone to make this major life change.”
Lacey nodded. “I’m just glad this discussion is still open.”
While I admittedly had mixed feelings about it, I trusted Selene and her colleagues. The rest of Council business moved quickly, as we all had Winter Solstice celebrations to get to. But, as always, we read the Lycanthrope Creed:
Our lives are long and full.
We watch the cycle of life and death, death and rebirth, the wheel of the seasons.
Taking responsibility for our bloodlines and vowing to teach our pups.
We act in accordance with honor no matter the adversity.
Standing guard over those whose lives are shorter than ours, saving them from themselves and dangers they can’t even imagine.
Standing alongside humanity, we are shadows that come to life under the moon.
Standing together with our pack.
Selene, Curtis and I had all been invited to several Solstice gatherings, but there was no question as to which one we would attend.
“Blessed Solstice!” Max announced when he opened the door. Then he shivered. “I don’t know why you people live in this cold part of the world.”
We got inside as quickly as possible.
“It’s because the men are so handsome,” Selene said with a wink at me. She kissed Max on the cheek and hugged Lonna. Iain was there, and we shook hands.
“Was the Council happy?” he asked.
“Very. Of course there are questions about the next part.”
He nodded. “Equal opportunity for all, eh? Come in and have a drink. I’ll pick your brains about it later.”
A tug on my pants leg made me look down into a pair of emerald eyes. “Gabriel, up!” I picked up Abby and carried her into the living room.
“There she is,” Lonna said and took her from my arms. “I’ve tried everything to get this kid to stay in her crib, but she keeps getting out. Even through the locked door.”
I pinched Abby’s nose, and she giggled. “Maybe it’s all right for her to stay up this once? Selene loves her. I do too.”
Lonna sighed, but happily. “I wonder how wizard mums do it.”
“If I meet one, I’ll ask for you.”
I moved with the flow of the party, Selene by my side. I greeted Garou, whose sour expression h
ad melted into friendliness, and the more we worked together, the more I respected him.
Eventually Selene and I ended up under a sprig of mistletoe. I took her into my arms.
“You did good, Investigator McCord,” she said and snuggled up to me. “This wouldn’t have happened without you.”
“What, me being under the mistletoe with you?”
“No,” she said and gestured to the party. Most of it was Institute staff and guests. Alexander, now an adopted brother to Abby, played with the little girl. With the Council’s help, Lonna and Max had been able to get him away from the abusive Paul. “All these people together in the same place enjoying themselves. You’re even getting along with Iain now. And the program is a success.”
“It’s all because of you doctor types. I’m just a humble werewolf.”
“And a smart politician.”
“That reminds me,” I said. “I think it would be smart for you and I to have some sort of formal arrangement. It took me a while to recognize it, and I don’t say it nearly enough, but Selene Rial, I love you.”
Her mouth dropped open. I knelt beside her, took her hand, and said, “Will you marry me?”
She looked around. A few people were smiling in our direction, and soon silence fell over the party as the guests realized what was happening.
“About time,” Curtis grumbled, but others shushed him.
Selene didn’t allow him to distract her. “Yes, Gabriel, I will marry you.”
Everyone cheered, and I pulled a velvet box out of my pocket. The ring fit her perfectly, a two-carat diamond surrounded by little ones. We kissed.
“Now we’re going to have to get you to learn to drink whiskey,” I said.
She wrinkled her nose. “So that’s how you survive these winters…”
“By the way,” I said, “now that we’re engaged, tell me what you see when we sniff.”
She grinned. “I see a Scottish warrior with the torc standing by a waterfall. He’s you and not you. We don’t need genetic tests to tell where your bloodline comes from.”
She squeezed my hand and moved away with the flow of the party to show the insistent female guests her ring. I looked outside at the snow swirling from the sky. No spirits disturbed us tonight, and I knew whatever may come, I wouldn’t face it alone. I hoped that wherever my father and David had ended up, they were also celebrating the longest night of the year with family and loved ones.
The snow swirled into the shape of Reine, who blew me a kiss and mouthed the word, “Congratulations” before disappearing.
Dear reader, thank you so much for reading Blood’s Shadow! It would be really helpful for me if you would please leave a review for the book on the site where you bought it. Retailers count the number of reviews a book has in its overall rank, which means that leaving reviews and telling your friends about this book are the best way to help others discover it. Plus I always appreciate the feedback, both positive and negative. Thanks! - Cecilia
Volume Four
Front Matter: Title Page
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
ISBN: 978-1-945074-15-8
Blurb:
Witches, werewolves, and murder - oh, my!
Former model and heartbreaker Kyra Ellison is accustomed to making trouble, not being on the receiving end. When she’s kicked out of her family’s Ozarks cabin where she's been taking refuge - okay, hiding - after a wicked ancient syndrome wrecked her old life, she's forced to go to Salem, Massachusetts. Yes, that Salem, where a murder, witches with secrets, and handsome billionaire make danger irresistible. Kyra finds she's not the only one with secrets and skeletons in her family closet, but some are more deadly than others. A confrontation with ancient danger and a new foe forces her to choose between the old life she's been craving and the new love that might make everything worth it in the end.
Created with Vellum
1
Endings and Beginnings
“You need to get out of here, Kyra,” Matt said. “And by out of here, I mean out of the state.”
I caught the snarl before it escaped my jaw. “You’re overstepping your boundaries. The last time we met, you said you couldn’t be my therapist, but I certainly needed one.”
“And you still do.” He looked around the diner to make sure no one eavesdropped. “But being here isn’t good for you, either as a person or a wolf. And I’m not saying you did or didn’t try to sabotage Lonna Marconi’s career, but you haven’t exactly managed to prove your innocence.”
“I didn’t do anything to Lonna Marconi. Why should I even care about her?” I took a deep breath. It had shocked me when Matt accused me of impersonating her to torpedo her cute little social worker career. “As for what’s good for me, going to Memphis and trying to re-start my pre-CLS life wasn’t.”
That had turned into a disaster. Most people thought Chronic Lycanthropy Syndrome was just the hot new behavioral disorder—and for the typical victim, it was “merely” psychological—but a few of us “lucky” ones actually transformed. I figured with enough planning, I could work around my unusual symptom expression. I’d just barricade myself in my apartment on the night of the change, take a Valium, and sleep through it.
I’d wakened that first morning after the full moon from dreams of being trapped, a wrecked apartment, and complaints from the neighbors about being kept awake by the noise of a howling, wild animal. I’m just lucky no one called the cops or broke the door down to rescue me. My landlords were not amused.
Thankfully I hadn’t signed a long-term lease and was able to get out of it, come back to the small Ozarks community of Crystal Pines with my literal and figurative tail between my legs—at least on the next night I changed—and try to re-integrate into my pack. But my pack didn’t want me, even after I’d apologized for being such a bitch to the new alpha female when I first met her.
Oh, and they’d also figured out my parents weren’t dead, like I’d implied when I’d told everyone they’d left me the cabin.
Okay, maybe it hadn’t been a great apology, but I’d tried. My pack-mates weren’t impressed, especially now that the alpha male and alpha female had started having puppies.
As for the truth about my parents… The pack didn’t seem to understand how embarrassed I’d been when I’d first become ill and escaped to Crystal Pines. But that was two strikes against me, hence the meeting I was having now with the beta.
He sat back and shook his head. “Have you thought about doing something different? Starting over in a different part of the country?”
“Running a modeling agency is all I know, and this is my home,” I told him. “I just need time to figure this out.”
“You’ve been figuring this out for two years now. You need to find a new pack, start a new life.”
I heard what he didn’t say—Where no one knows who you are or what a crazy bitch you’ve been.
He signaled for the check, which he thankfully picked up. Once he paid and I’d sat in sulky silence for a while, he patted my hand.
“I know you don’t believe this, but I want what’s best for you. You were one of the original Piney Mountain pack members, and you’ve saved my tail more than a few times. I haven’t forgotten that. Please—go and start over. You know the definition of insanity.”
I nodded. “Doing the same thing and expecting different results.”
“Right. How long are you going to bang your head against this wall? You’re letting your condition turn you into a bitter shell of the vivacious young woman you used to be.”
He left, and I took a shuddering breath to calm myself. His words chilled me in spite of the warm autumn day.
I was still pondering them when I got into my old Honda, which was yet another reminder of how far I’d fallen as a result of the stupid CLS. I’d had to trade down from the Mercedes I used to drive.
Where could I go? I still had my parents’ cabin, which in spite of the rustic name, at least had running water and e
lectricity. But no internet or phone service, and the cell signal sucked up there.
I had four bars in town, though, and just after I pulled out of my parking spot, I was greeted by a ding and a text message from my younger sister-in-law. The blurry black and white ultrasound picture clued me into the contents before I read it.
Welcoming newest Ellison in the spring!
A flurry of dings heralded congratulations from other family members. I drove faster than advisable so I’d have the “no signal” excuse for not replying to my perfect brother’s perfect wife’s happy news.
The early autumn yellows glowed in the shadowed green forest and seemed to mock my dark, bitter mood. Everyone was moving forward with their lives but me, who was going backward or at least stagnating.
Just before I reached the area where having a telephone conversation would be impossible, my phone rang. A glance at the screen told me it was my mother. As most people with elderly parents do, I pulled over and answered even though I wasn’t in the mood to talk to her. My father had a weak heart.
My mother didn’t bother with a greeting, just launched into, “Kyra, did you see Lisa’s text?”
Instead of answering with an affirmative, I sighed.
“I thought you did. Of all the ways to tell everyone!” Now she exhaled with a huff, and the puff of air coming through the phone irritated me further because it reminded me how similar we were.
“I guess she was efficient.”
“She’ll figure out how well efficiency works when she has the baby. Nothing throws your life off like having kids.”
I stifled another sigh. My mother never missed a chance to let us know just how much she’d given up for us, and I had already anticipated her next question.
She cleared her throat. “Now that the family will have another reason to get together for quiet vacations, I need to know, are you still staying at the cabin?”
Lycanthropy Files Box Set: Books 1-3 Plus Novella Page 80