by E. A. Copen
The circle that I had almost stumbled into was just one such circle. Someone had spent the day digging it out, marking it, placing torches, and then poured a metric ton of raw magick into it. Who might have done that? Everyone in the pack that had magick had been busy doing something else. So far as I knew, only Shauna and Daphne had been here all day preparing.
Nina came to light the torch on my left. I wanted to ask her about the circle and who had powered it, but she hadn’t acknowledged me. Her lips moved in a fast cadence, mumbling quick and rhythmic words I couldn’t understand. I blinked as I looked at her and saw a mirage of color—her aura—bleeding down into the pit. Then, as I looked around, I saw the same bleed of colors trickling down from Daphne and Leo. Another stream flowed out through the air from the house, and another came from the shed where Valentino was preparing. Of course. It wasn’t one person powering the circle; it was all of them, the whole pack.
My understanding of werewolf magick being as limited as it was, I hadn’t even thought of that. I knew the alpha of every pack could wield a sort of magickal compulsion, bending the will of those in his pack to his own. That’s why it was important to select a good leader. Chanter and Sal had both used the same compulsion magick on me before to a lesser effect, but that was only one aspect of what they could do. I’d known there was more. How much more had always been in question because I was an outsider. Here I was, intruding on a thing Shauna had called sacred. It should have felt more wrong than it did.
Nina finished lighting the torches, and as she did, the shed door opened. Ed emerged, his face more serious than I had ever seen him. He had stripped off his shirt and wore only some loose, gray sweatpants that made his pale skin look even paler. His dark, curly hair was even more unkempt than usual, and he’d neglected to put on his glasses. He didn’t squint or bump into anything on his way over, though, so I found myself wondering whether the glasses were an aesthetic choice or if he actually needed them.
He came over and said something I couldn’t hear to Nina, who nodded and pointed toward the house. Ed turned to follow where she’d pointed and paused when he saw me. Before, there had always been a casual, if not outright playful quality to Ed’s face. That was gone, replaced by ragged exhaustion and dark circles. Maybe he’d neglected the glasses because he’d been crying. If he had, he didn’t show tears to me, or anyone else gathered. Ed gave me a respectful nod that felt weird coming from him, and then trotted off toward where Shauna was standing guard.
The crowd of people wandered closer to the circle, sure to leave a gap where the contenders and their seconds might enter. Istaqua and his prisoners remained over by the shed. The coyote shifter stood in amused contemplation, his hands perched on his hips, and his elbows sticking out like wings. His nose wasn’t bleeding any more. When he caught me glaring at him, he offered a wink and a smile.
It was another ten minutes or so before Ed came running back to the shed as a skinny wolf. He pawed the door open and ducked inside.
Just a moment later, Sal came around the corner of the house with Shauna at his side in wolf form. Shauna’s wolf was a beautiful mix of tawny red and black fur standing half as tall as Sal. It used to be that, whenever I saw a werewolf, I didn’t think they looked much different from a wolf except for a few small details. The more time I spent with them, though, the more details I noticed. Werewolves were bigger, their limbs bent in the wrong places. The size difference varied from werewolf to werewolf and didn’t have much correlation with how big they were in their human forms. Chanter, for example, had been smaller than Shauna. Or maybe Shauna was just working hard to make herself look big.
Sal looked much changed from when I left him. He’d found some of the confidence that he so badly needed. No one looking at him would have guessed he had been in tears as recently as an hour ago. While he was inside, he’d found the time and materials to weave his hair into two long braids. White paint traveled in a straight horizontal line under each eye, two vertical lines—one black and one red—crossing on each side. I hadn’t expected to see war paint, but it felt appropriate, especially the way he wore it.
He and Shauna walked straight to the edge of the circle. Shauna moved to go in first, but Sal stopped her. He jumped down into the pit and landed almost soundlessly. Shauna took two steps back and had to take a jump to clear the mound of dirt. Her landing was not quite as graceful or quiet. Sal took up a spot on the far side of the circle and waited, arms crossed while Shauna sniffed around the edge of the pit.
Ed and Valentino came next. Valentino didn’t wear any paint. He didn’t need it. Valentino had an impressive smattering of ink on his person. Sal had tattoos, too, but not as many as Valentino, and certainly not as colorful. Ed had told me once that getting tattoos was a waste of money for werewolves. Even with silver needles, they didn’t stick around for long periods of time and had to be touched up frequently. It looked like Valentino had gone recently. One on his chest bore a paw print and Chanter’s name. It was still very red and raw looking. Valentino vaulted over the dirt mound. When he landed, the loose dirt all around the pit jumped. Ed cleared the mound in a jump and landed beside Valentino. As soon as he landed, he lifted the weight off one leg. I winced. It was an old injury that had never healed right. An injury he’d gotten because of me.
Ed and Shauna greeted each other in the center with some friendly sniffing and then walked the perimeter of the pit one more time together. Meanwhile, Valentino stalked back and forth on the south side of the circle, staring at Sal. Sal stood and waited patiently, but his eyes tracked every twitch of Valentino’s. Once they were satisfied, Shauna and Ed parted. Ed sat down in the middle of the pit and barked once. Someone on the side of the circle—I couldn’t see who—lowered a board down into the pit that served as a ramp. Shauna trotted up it and went to sit at the point of due north. Ed scrambled up the board with some difficulty and limped over to sit due south, panting.
The magick of the circle snapped closed. The sudden motion of it made me flinch. The torch next to me sizzled as the first drops of rain fell on a silent crowd.
“I’ve brought my challenge to you in accordance with the laws and customs of the pack,” Valentino said, raising his voice so that he could be heard over the rain. “Our seconds have both indicated that the arena is as agreed.” He paused, and I saw his chest swell with a deep breath. “I should offer you the chance to step aside gracefully. There doesn’t need to be blood between us.”
“I respectfully decline.” When Sal spoke, his voice sounded rough, and his eyes pulsed with a golden glow.
One side of Valentino’s mouth kicked up into a satisfied smirk. “Good,” he said. “It’s about time you and me saw eye-to-eye on something.”
And then he bared his teeth and leapt across the pit with a feral growl.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The rain came down in heavy sheets, wind sweeping it along at an angle. Water cascaded down over the side of the pit in miniature waterfalls where the dirt had been piled unevenly. Aside from the snarls and growls of challenge down in the pit, the gentle rolling thunder and falling rain were the only sounds.
Valentino’s initial charge stopped short in the same mocking way Istaqua had done with me. Sal didn’t take the bait. He stood ready and waiting, balancing on the balls of his bare feet and keeping his hands high. The way the two hung back made me think they’d sparred before.
Valentino ventured forward again but didn’t fall back this time. He threw a wide body punch with his left, but it didn’t have a lot of power behind it. Sal dodged aside and into Valentino’s right as it came out for a liver shot. It connected, but with reduced force since Sal twisted away. He caught Valentino’s retreating left arm above the elbow from the outside and jerked forward with bone popping force. Valentino stumbled forward, off-balance, but didn’t fall, more worried about staying upright than the hammer fist that came down on his back. The strike made Valentino’s shoulders tense and roll back, throwing his chest out to try to
recoup the air that Sal had just knocked out of him. Sal tried for a kick to the back of the knee, but Valentino dropped into a forward roll to get out of the way, turning back around in the blink of an eye. He remained down in a runner’s crouch, ready to spring up. Now on opposite sides of the arena again, the two paused to reassess.
That short exchange had still been on the verge of friendly sparring. Even the hardest punch wasn’t full force. Valentino came out to test the water and Sal obliged, but it had cost him. He still wasn’t in full control of the wolf. The wolf wanted the fight more than it wanted to strategize and bide his time for Valentino to wear himself out. Sal’s eyes glowed, and his face twisted. He shook his head as if to clear his vision and flexed his fingers. If he shifted, he might gain claws and teeth, but do it at the wrong moment, and he would leave himself vulnerable. This was a fight he couldn’t win by drawing it out and letting Valentino exhaust himself. The wolf wasn’t going to let him.
Sal moved forward. Valentino showed teeth and sank his hand down into the muddy bottom of the pit. He looked like he was bracing himself for Sal’s charge. When Sal came another step closer, Valentino flung his hand up and hit Sal in the face with a handful of coarse, wet dirt. Sal flinched, but the mud still struck him in the eyes, across the mouth, and nose. Every sense suddenly flooded with pain or dulled by the smell and taste of mud, he was helpless when Valentino sprang up and barreled into him in a dead run. Valentino’s shoulder drove into Sal’s stomach—or would have if Sal hadn’t shifted. Instead, Valentino sailed over Sal. Sal, now in wolf form, threw his whole weight into the front of Valentino’s knees, knocking him down.
“That’s a dirty trick,” Nina muttered next to me. I looked up at her stone face, crossed arms, and glowing eyes.
It wasn’t as dirty as what Valentino had pulled. It also wasn’t a secret that Sal could shift without the same troubles that would have plagued Valentino. For most werewolves, the Change takes ten to fifteen minutes of agony as they shed skin, teeth, and nails to grow into the wolf beast. It was a slightly different process for each of them, but Sal could do it in a flash. That didn’t come without its downside. He’d still been wearing a pair of sweats when he changed and struggled to get out of them.
Valentino got up first and snarled, scratching hard at his left hand. The skin tore away, and his features shifted, arms growing into legs, nose and mouth becoming a snout. Sal didn’t let him finish in peace. Once he was free of the restrictive clothing, he charged Valentino and jumped. Sal’s fangs sank into Valentino’s half-changed arm and Valentino responded by swinging it wide. The move slammed Sal into the side of the pit, but he still held tight until Valentino resorted to kicking and biting back. Sal let go but snarled and jumped right back on him.
By that time, Valentino had almost finished his change, somehow shifting faster than normal. Just the finer features of his fingers and toes were left to shift. They came into place as Sal latched onto the scruff of Valentino’s neck. Valentino bucked and rose onto his hind legs in an attempt to throw Sal off, but Sal moved and bit down on the side of Valentino’s neck.
Beside me, Nina drew in a sharp breath, and I tensed. If he moved only a few more inches one way, Sal could easily close his jaws around Valentino’s windpipe and tear his throat out, bringing the fight to a quick and bloody end.
He didn’t. Instead, he jerked his head to the side and shifted all his weight behind that one move. Valentino had no choice. He either had to move with Sal’s jaws or let Sal break his neck. Sal didn’t just keep tugging him along, though. He lifted one paw and flipped Valentino onto his side and then let him go. Sal pawed and nudged at him again, teeth bared, until Valentino rolled onto his back. It was a forced gesture of submission, Sal’s way of saying, “I win. Surrender.”
Valentino didn’t accept it. He kicked at Sal with his back legs, but Sal just barked and growled fiercely, resting his teeth lightly over Valentino’s windpipe. Both were very still for a moment before Valentino did the impossible.
He shifted back into his human form with all the expediency that Sal had used to go from wolf to man. Judging by his face, it hurt. A lot. But the change made Sal lose his grip on Valentino and gave Valentino a momentary upper hand because of Sal’s confusion. Valentino kicked under Sal, landing a hard knee into the wolf’s ribcage. There was a yip of pain, and Sal staggered away.
Valentino sprang to his feet. Blood dripped down from a good scratch in his neck, and his right arm was mangled where Sal had bitten him during the Change. Apparently, they didn’t heal so well when such injuries were inflicted in transition. Or maybe that was the magick of the circle.
Either way, the blood loss, or maybe the sudden Change left Valentino dazed and swaying on his feet. His eyes were unfocused, and his breathing fast and labored. Though Valentino had gotten away for the moment, he was no match for the big, gray-white wolf that was Sal, and now Sal was angry. I saw the change in his eyes, the red, angry glow of rage. Valentino had tricked him, made him look like a fool, and then hurt him. Now, bleeding as he was, it triggered predatory instincts. Valentino ceased to be a member of the pack, and instead, became wounded prey.
Sal leapt after Valentino, teeth bared, and aimed for Valentino’s throat in a killing pose. A shock of black fur blurred through the air and shot down into the pit, sending a vibration of electric current through the magick barrier of the circle as it passed through. The skinny black wolf landed on top of Valentino, knocking him over and splayed across his neck and torso protectively. Ed had jumped down to break up the fight because he’d seen what I had.
Sal came down to the ground hard, sending a splash of rainwater up all around. He snarled at Ed. Ed gave a submissive whine, and turned his head to the side, stretching out his neck. Shauna, who had shifted back into human form during the fight, dropped into the pit on the other side, drawing Sal’s glare and another snarl.
“Valentino,” she said in a small voice not befitting her and dropping her gaze away from Sal’s. “Will you submit?”
Valentino could barely answer. He blinked the rain out of his eyes. “Sí. Me rindo,” he managed after a long, tension-filled pause. Then he sat up, forcing Ed to stand, though Ed kept his head low and tail tucked. “I concede,” Valentino repeated in English and lowered his head.
Sal stepped forward and growled low in Valentino’s face. The sound vibrated in my chest. Then, he looked up at the crowd gathered around the pit, backed up two steps, leapt up over the ledge, and out of the circle with ease. He turned to look at Nina, mouth turned up and vibrating with a sound I couldn’t hear. She immediately dropped to one knee and lowered her head.
Sal threw his head back and howled loud and long in a tone that hurt my ears. Down in the pit, Shauna took it up next, somehow able to match the sound even with her human vocal cords. Ed, Daphne, and even little Leo answered, with Leo’s small voice ringing high. Nina and Valentino were the last, and next to Sal, the loudest voices of all. Then, one by one, the rest of the people gathered dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. Some of them looked around with nervous eyes, and I didn’t understand why until I realized that I, too, was kneeling in the mud. The compulsion had been so strong that I didn’t even notice it.
Istaqua alone remained standing, a grimace fixed on his face. Sal didn’t pay him any attention. He was busy reveling in his victory.
After another series of howls, Sal waited while everyone climbed back up out of the pit. Someone had to put the board ramp back down for Ed, who now walked with an even more pronounced limp.
Valentino came, tugging on his pants, and keeping his head low. He didn’t look anyone in the eye, but he didn’t look angry or upset either. I thought he looked relieved. Nina scrambled to pick up Leo and go to her husband. She checked his neck, the scratches and tears on his chest, and then frowned at the torn flesh of his arm. It was already healing, but blood still seeped from it. Valentino acted like it didn’t even hurt. He put his one good arm behind Nina’s head and pulled her to h
im for a kiss on the forehead. Tears welled and she leaned into her husband, sobbing softly. Whether it was for his loss or hers, I wasn’t sure.
“Congratulations on your win.” Istaqua’s sly voice cut the celebrations short.
Sal turned his head and let out another rumbling growl.
Istaqua’s mismatched eyes wrinkled in the corners. “Oh, it will take more than that to prostrate me, young wolf. But that’s for another time. Now, we have another issue to settle.” He placed his foot on the back of the prisoner on the right. The man whimpered and bowed forward under the weight. “These,” Istaqua continued, “need dealing with. Now that your politics are sorted, I would see it sooner rather than later. While both the club and your pack were wronged, the pack bore the brunt of the damage. They’re both yours if you want them.”
Sal rose and stepped toward the prisoners, that same killing glint in his eye. Istaqua betrayed a small victory smile.
I fought the bonds of the strange compulsory magick that held me kneeling on the ground. It was a subtle magick, less like a weight holding me down and more like a heaviness in my own body. As soon as I began to rise, both Istaqua and Sal turned to regard me with cold eyes.
“Interesting,” Istaqua said with a smirk.
“Don’t, Sal,” I said, still fighting the magick. “If you kill those men, you’re no better than they are.”
“They deserve it,” Istaqua snapped back.
“They murdered my father,” Nina said suddenly beside me. She showed her teeth and offered a deep snarl of her own that made my teeth vibrate. “For that, they deserve no mercy.”
Whatever compulsion spell Sal had worked lost its grip, and people all over began to stand. Bran’s hand came down lightly on my shoulder. “Judah Black, I respect your desire for the state’s justice. However, do we not all know these men are above that? Will not your organization or theirs protect them for no other reason than that they are human and we are not?”