by L. A. Banks
“You made her sick!” Shogun shouted, pointing at Hunter with a hard snap of his arm. Blood coursed down his stone-cut chest in rivulets from multiple open wounds.
“She is not a carrier!” Hunter shouted back, his thickly muscled arm pointing in a hard snap to match Shogun’s. “Your mother is a carrier, and a murderess—not my mate!”
“My mother died more than two decades ago. The past is dead. Our argument is here and now!”
“No,” Hunter said with a growl. “Your mother lives, even though she murdered mine. Same scent, same bloodline—now that I’ve spilled yours, I’d know it anywhere.”
Archers raised their weapons, but Sasha leapt before the retinue that fell out of the shadow lands. Doc stood with a pump shotgun, looking bewildered. Sasha quickly reached over and lowered his weapon before the aggressive stance caused an attack.
“This is bullshit!” Shogun shouted, watching the other Shadow Wolves come out of the shadow lands and shape-shift into their human forms.
“It is truth,” Silver Shadow said once he’d again become Silver Hawk.
“They lie!” Lei shrieked, pacing. “They would say anything to deflect the truth from Hunter.”
Dana rushed to Shogun’s side as he stared at Sasha for a moment, but he pushed her away. She snarled and spun on the Shadow pack. “You bit him,” she said, openly accusing Hunter as she studied Shogun’s wounds, aghast.
The entire Werewolf clan that was assembled slowly backed away from Shogun and Hunter.
“No!” Lei screamed, rushing at Hunter, but several lieutenants held her back. “You’re a carrier. My brother is the future!”
“Hunter is immune,” Doc said flatly. “He’s throwing off the virus. His Shadow mother probably gave him the gift of life . . . the immunity to the contagion.” He looked at Lei and then Shogun with sad eyes. “Your mother and father did not pass that to you. I’m sorry.”
Shogun looked down at his wounds and then at Hunter and snarled. The entire Werewolf pack snarled. Archers raised their bows as new tension swept the clearing.
“The blood sample you gave Sasha might hold a miracle,” Silver Hawk said, his gaze nonjudgmental.
Hunter quickly looked to his grandfather, then to Sasha, at the same time Lei and Dana jerked their attention toward Shogun.
“You did what?” Lei said with a dangerous snarl.
“It was for him,” Shogun said, ignoring his sister and staring at Hunter. He laughed a cold, bitter laugh and shook his head. “Ironic.” He then turned his attention to Sasha and released an echoing yell of pain as he began ripping arrows from his body, each silver-tipped projectile sizzling as it came out dripping gore. Breathing hard, he flung the offending instruments on the ground. “I hope it was worth it.”
Hunter followed suit, staring at Sasha. The glen was silent save the yells of agony of each man. When it was all over, the elder shaman stepped forward.
“I was on the spirit vision quest and saw what happened, Shogun,” Silver Hawk said. “The history you have been given is not accurate, and we must end the lies here tonight.”
“You are the liar!” Lei said, gaining barks and jeers from the Werewolf contingent.
“Let him speak!” Shogun shouted, resting by placing his hands on his knees. “If I am to die by the silver bullet, then at least let me hear the truth first!”
“Your mother didn’t die at the hands of the North American Shadow Clan,” Sasha said, choosing each word with extreme care. “Your father did inadvertently—trying to save Hunter’s mother from her attack. It was a battlefield accident in the heat of battle. He was Turning from his contagion, yet trying to save Hunter’s mother when he was shot—but they weren’t both shot. Your mother was maimed and fled. She was the one who made the demon pact, but your father wouldn’t go along with her methods. They argued, and she intentionally attacked him so that he’d Turn. She was the one who attacked Hunter’s mother, and your mother still lives and is feeding. Lei came after me in the Uncompahgre with Dana, two female lieutenants, and your mother. I don’t care if the evidence is inadmissible at the tribunal—out here under the moon, the truth is what it is.”
“You’ll stand here and allow her to disparage our parents, our history, our everything after she’s made a fool of you?” Lei yelled, her voice now shrill on the dense night air.
“That’s not my intent, and you know it,” Sasha said quietly, looking at Shogun. “I saw your father in the shadow lands. The things that happened in history were tragic. But both you and Hunter might have a common element in your blood that could save you . . . we don’t want you to become infected, Shogun. I’ll bring everything I have to bear to stop that, if I can.”
Sasha spun on the crowd and glared at the Vampires milling in the background of it. “Hunter’s meds were tampered with. I’ll prove it, one way or another. But I know he didn’t kill any human. I don’t think Shogun did, either—and I damned sure didn’t. Somebody, however, didn’t bank on there being a silver lining to our détente—Shogun selflessly giving me a blood sample.” She gave a dangerous smile. “I have a clean version of his blood that Doc can look at and study, since we obviously don’t need it for Hunter now. What we found out in the shadow lands was that Hunter had been injecting himself, unknowingly, with infected Werewolf toxin—but he’d clearly built up an immunity to it. He must have, if he got out of the silver bars and shadow-traveled all the way from the Uncompahgre to here!”
There bayou was so quiet that even the crickets and bullfrogs had stopped their night serenade. Sasha looked from Hunter to Shogun. “If Hunter and Shogun share lineage, then maybe Doc can come up with something that can stop the virus from taking you over, Shogun. Maybe Hunter’s blood can wind up saving you—just as you gave yours to try to save him.” She looked at the Vampires hard and finally spotted Geoff in the crowd. “One thing is for sure, though—somebody had an agenda. When we find out who switched the meds and started this whole thing, oh . . . trust me, there will be hell to pay.”
Hunter rubbed his palms down his face as Fae archers lowered their bows and Dragon bouncers withdrew. Vampires fell back deeper into the mist, watching and very unhappy about the turn of events.
“She speaks the truth,” Silver Hawk said, first looking at Shogun and then Hunter. “We must come together as one, break bread, and discuss the facts. Shogun, you are blood of our blood. There cannot be war between brothers.” He looked at Hunter with moist eyes. “I spoke to your mother. The history we have all known until now has been revised.”
A tall redheaded male with a massive barrel chest wearing hunting fatigues parted the Werewolf pack. “Buchanan Broussard—member of the tribunal and North American local clan alpha, presiding.” He looked around the glen and then called, “Is the baron present? Dugan!”
All eyes turned to the UCE tribunal members, who made themselves known by stepping forward. Baron Geoff Montague cleared his throat and nodded from a spectator’s position in the back, but pushed his way forward with a look of disdain, brushing off his designer suit’s lapels. Dugan elbowed his way forward, his roly-poly frame and scowl further dwarfed in the moonlight by the looming shadows of taller entities beside him.
The large redhead who had called the impromptu meeting to order walked in a circle like a strutting rooster and then stopped short to gaze around the assembled supernatural crowd. “In addition to the personal affront to my daughter’s honor, which I don’t even want to discuss in mixed company, there are still multiple offenses that must be addressed. And our local family has to be made whole.”
Buchanan cocked back his pump shotgun and spoke in a loud, clear bellow like an evangelist. “First off, we got a contagion spreader. That’s a felony if ever I saw one, regardless of who specifically ate the humans. See, we have to take that as a serious offense, because we can’t have the other UCE members thinking wolves of any variety can’t handle themselves in a civilized manner. Ain’t fittin’, and just ain’t done. We don’t need to give anybod
y any reason to start a full-out wolf hunt.” Buchanan shook his head. “You know you got the dread disease as a carrier of it in your bloodstream and you go after an innocent man who’s protecting his pack? Ain’t right.”
“Finally, some semblance of justice,” Lei growled, pointing in the Shadow packs’ direction.
“Well now, hold on, little lady—I ain’t quite finished. We’ve got an unauthorized attack at Tulane Hospital by your brother and his men, which was a little over the top. We don’t operate gangland-style in this neck of the woods—or at least we’re trying hard not to. Happens from time to time, but we try to keep the humans out of it. That’s a misdemeanor. But then, there’s the other not-so-small problem.” Buchanan sighed.
“What crime have we committed beyond some stupid misdemeanor?” Lei yelled, setting off the Southeast Asian Werewolf Clan in a series of discordant growls. “We will pay for any damages!”
“It’s more than that, Lei,” Shogun said quietly.
Buchanan nodded. “Yep. Sad but true. As much as it breaks my baby girl’s heart, until that man there does twenty-four hours and a full moon, we’ve gotta make sure there’s no cause for alarm. Right now, we’ve got two half-eaten dead bodies down at the morgue. That’s gonna create a human witch hunt—and we know they’ll be sure to turn us in so it’s a wolf hunt.” He sighed hard again and shook his head. “Then we’ve got all kinds of allegations of collusion from mates, and family members, and what have you. Seems to me, the big Shadow and his mate need to be incarcerated under house arrest—since they’re no immediate danger, as long as he don’t go biting folks. The alpha brother from our Southeast Asian contingent and his sister mayhaps need a watchful eye—but that boy who got bit gotta go in chains after the Doc looks at him. Then we best be scouring this bayou to find us that alleged she-devil, if in fact she exists. And for the record, I really hope she do—because it would break my heart to have to put a slug in anybody who came out to this here yard party tonight.”
“I’m not going anywhere!” Lei shrieked, snapping and snarling as local Werewolves came through the trees.
Sasha and Hunter were immediately surrounded, but there was no resistance to their capture. Silver Hawk simply nodded and remained composed while the Shadow pack parted and fell back, allowing them to be taken into custody.
Buchanan Broussard raised his shotgun and pointed it at Shogun’s head. “Son, while you’re still in your clear and right mind, please tell your sister to go with us nice and easy, and I suggest you do the same.”
CHAPTER 13
She had to get to her squad. Being incarcerated now was not just inconvenient—it was potentially life threatening. Sasha kept her eyes straight ahead as she and Hunter were separated from Lei and Shogun. Sasha and Shogun briefly shared a look. Hunter unfortunately caught it. Shogun saw that he did. This was so not good. She said a silent prayer for a temporary truce. Silver Hawk, Doc, and the others trailed behind them. This was crazy!
But another dark reality slithered into her consciousness—her human squad was at extreme risk. If anybody had an agenda . . . Sasha stopped walking at the same time Silver Hawk came to an abrupt halt.
Several Werewolf guards and Fae archers whirled on her and Hunter, also edging around the older shaman with care. Huge Werewolf sentries immediately stepped back and took aim. The crowd of witnesses backed up. Nerves were a hair away from tragedy.
“My human military squad,” Sasha said. “I want them protected. If my evidence gatherers—”
“You mean tamperers!” Lei screeched.
“My guys might have the key to saving your brother’s life, so shut up!” Sasha yelled back. “Don’t you see we could all be getting played? The Federations could have been set up for internal warfare.”
Hunter and Shogun shared a silent glance. This time the look in their eyes didn’t contain hatred but something unfathomable to anyone other than them.
“More importantly,” Silver Hawk challenged, “the incarceration should be handled by both Federations, not one.”
“We’ll sort it all out at the tribunal,” Buchanan said with a good-ole-boy drawl that gave away his Texas roots.
“No,” Silver Hawk said, his voice even and lethal. “I have experienced broken treaties before, as well as kangaroo courts, when young Lion Shadow was injured in the battle with Dexter, along with many of our most able Shadow Wolves. It would leave a serious void in our forces if our current alpha—Hunter—were to mysteriously meet a catastrophic end.” The old man raked his wise gaze through the crowd, his seer senses keened enough to make everyone around him nervous. “That would be no different from us demanding that you remand Shogun to our custody without oversight . . . although I think he’d fare better in our care than yours.”
“Old man,” Buchanan said with a snarl, “this ain’t no time and place to be casting aspersions. Not with tensions running so high.”
The veiled threat seemed to make Silver Hawk become more aggressive, and he landed a hand on Hunter’s forearm to keep him out of it, since Hunter was such a ready-made target.
“My age makes me see things from the position of experience,” Silver Hawk said coolly. “You too lost many of your warriors in the battle with Dexter that broke out in the residential vistas of New Orleans one full moon ago. As it was, North America had only an older Werewolf alpha male left . . . you. The Southeast Asian Werewolf Clan had bested all others to the death, and you were the only one with wisdom enough to defer. Thus you are still standing and next in line if Shogun falls—if ever there was a time for a coup.”
“You have a lot of nerve spreading rumor and doubt, shaman,” Buchanan growled. “You best water your own garden!”
“I want a neutral party to police us while we’re under house arrest. Fae or Order of the Dragon, not Vampires.” Silver Hawk crossed his arms over his chest.
Begrudgingly, Buchanan tossed his pump shotgun to the nearest Dragon as Fae archers repositioned themselves to surround the two senior potential combatants.
“Suit yourselves. Do as you like,” Buchanan said angrily, drawing his local pack near him. “We’ve got nothing to hide. But if one of them infected sonsabitches escapes, the blood is on your hands. The spectacle that erupts into the streets and the human death toll will be yours to own, not ours! With all these here fine folks watching, I completely absolve myself, my pack, and my clan from anything to do with any of this—y’all hear?”
“We’ve got a camp over in the Ninth Ward,” a burly blond Dragon in full biker gear shouted out. “Believe me, we do Dungeons and Dragons better than any of you can imagine. Escapes won’t be a problem.”
“No. Too visible now,” said a tall, handsome Fae captain of the guards. “That Hollywood guy, Brad Pitt, is doing major charitable work there rebuilding homes . . . cameras are everywhere. You’ve seen the pink tented houses. It’s a solid media goodwill effort and what we do not need is exposure on TMZ or Entertainment Tonight.”
“Can you picture it?” a pretty Phoenix said, her eyes blazing. “An all-out battle caught on Access Hollywood? Spare me.”
“They might think Pitt was filming for a movie, though,” a Dragon yelled from the rear of the crowd.
Voices of dissent rang out, but when the Vampires stepped forward, parting bodies from sheer vapor, the group fell silent again, waiting. Baron Geoff Montague raised an elegant hand and turned to address the crowd like a mesmerizing politician.
“If our characters hadn’t been so assailed,” Geoff sniffed, “we could offer our Vampire lairs—they’re hidden within sprawling estates that are impenetrable to sunlight, and could thus be arranged to block moonlight as well. Veritable fortresses in affluent neighborhoods on high ground that didn’t even flood during Katrina. Concrete vaults in the—”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Hunter snarled. He then whirled his attention to Dugan. “And I’m also not big on going back to the B and B where my meds somehow got tampered with.”
“What are you trying to
say, laddie?” Dugan yelled. “I should be the one offended to have a . . . a . . . toxin junkie hiding out in my establishment!”
Hunter spun on the voice and snarled so deeply that several clicks from weapon hammers echoed through the clearing.
“Not a problem to respect the requests of the accused, who also have legitimate concerns. Our objective is to be neutral and to see that justice prevails,” the Fae captain said, motioning for several crossbow-toting archers to move forward. “We have our own enchanted compounds in the forests and bayous.”
“Where?” Shogun snarled, his gaze distrustful.
“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you,” the Fae captain said without a smile. “But rest assured, laddie, stealth is what we do. Any more complaints before we move out?”
Loud silence was the crowd’s unified answer. A pump shotgun barrel nudge from a nearby Fae guard prompted Sasha to begin walking again, but not before she sent Bear Shadow and Crow Shadow a meaningful glance. The two lead enforcers gave her and Hunter a look, then peeled away from the larger group as her mind began to shut out the surrounding chaos to focus on Woods and Fisher. Her familiars needed to know what was happening, needed to know to look alive to stay alive—and to be careful not to shoot the wrong wolves.
“I might be a team shaman-in-training,” Winters said to Bradley in a loud voice to get his attention over the truck’s diesel engine, “but I’m better on kinetics.” He glanced at Clarissa, whose gaze was far off. “Like, I can’t do what she does, but I’ve got the heebie-jeebies. Now, in my world, heebie-jeebies, after all the shit we’ve seen, should be a valid thing. Ya think?”
“Shut up, Winters,” Fisher yelled through the partition. He nodded toward Woods, whose gaze was much like Clarissa’s.