Shifter Wars: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 1)

by Kelly St Clare

  I snatched it back. “I don’t want to forget important stuff.”

  The stewards gathered every Tuesday night for a grid rundown, but this was my first time at one. Two members of Herc’s head team spent the last hour and a half running through the master plan, and I was determined not to miss a thing.

  Grey eyes twinkled down at me. “A clear head is important too. Don’t stay up all night pouring over this stuff. You need sleep, superwoman.”

  I blew out a breath. “I’ll try.”

  Did the intensity of this game ever lessen? Because I’d expected nothing could be more nerve-wracking than entering Clay last week.

  Wrong.

  “You’ll shadow Rhona,” he reminded me.

  My shoulders eased. True.

  “Better, soulmate?”

  “Perhaps.” I’d be better when Greyson and Sascha fucked right off. I’d barely slept since he cooked me dinner and I lost sex chicken.

  What had my life become?

  Leaving Wade to find my family, I smiled at Laura and Billy, waving at Roderick and a few other members of the counter-wolf team.

  “Andie?”

  I glanced at an elderly woman. She leaned heavily on her cane but extended one hand to me.

  “I’m Margaret Frey. One of the tribe’s historians.”

  Taking her hand, I shook it. “Oh, nice to meet you. Thanks so much for the book. It’s beautifully written. I’ve just reached Naatira’s rule.”

  The historian’s kind eyes lit up. “One of my favourites, and,” she moved closer, “your mother always liked her too.”

  My smile faded. “You knew my mother?”

  “I daresay that I did. Your father was my grandson.”

  My head jerked back. “You’re my great-grandmother?”

  She chuckled. “We can leave the great off, don’t you think?”

  I searched for something to say and came up blank. I mean, it made sense that Murphy’s family would be at these gatherings and in the valley, but had I just been strutting under their noses? In hindsight, that seemed incredibly rude. “I’m sorry for not reaching out sooner.”

  “Thank you for saying so, but Herc told us you weren’t ready to meet. I probably shouldn’t have surprised you like this, but I’m old and I must seize opportunities before I expire.”

  I grinned, brushing my hair back. “It’s fine, really. I asked Herc to set up a meeting between us not long ago.”

  Her gaze lingered on mine. “Indeed. Well, we look forward to hearing from him soon. My son and other grandchildren are wild to meet you.”

  “I’d love to hear more about my father and mother,” I said shyly. I’d never had a great grandmother. Or a grandparent.

  My family was growing, and that didn’t make me want to run and hide as it once would have.

  Margaret’s eyes misted. “Your mother’s love for this land was unmatched, and I was very sorry to see her and my grandson leave this place—and very glad to see their daughter return. I’d be happy to speak of them both. Perhaps, like your mother, you might feel the inkling to speak on tribe matters of the past and present too. You need only ask if you have any questions about our history.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered around the lump in my throat.

  Margaret dipped her head and limped away.

  A hand rested on my shoulder.

  “Hey, Uncle Herc,” I said, watching my great grandmother limp away.

  “That was Margaret Frey. Are you alright?”

  She just gave me another connection to my mother. “She seems really nice.”

  “I’ve been meaning to contact them again. Sorry. I’ll make sure to do that without delay.”

  “You’ve been busy saving the world. I forgive you.”

  “Then can I ask why you look so serious, niece of mine?”

  “Just thinking about Mum.”

  “Ah.”

  I’d read her I’m 17 journal, but she apparently gave up journaling after that. I had so many questions about her childhood and the years before she left Deception Valley. She’d breathed this land—and I wasn’t only convinced of that from Herc and Margaret and Mum’s friends. I’d seen that lost love in my mother, never knowing the cause.

  Her occasional despondency.

  Her love of nature.

  More and more, I understood Mum’s heart remained in this place when she left. A part of her died with that decision.

  But whatever troubles she’d carried in life shouldn’t follow her to death. That wasn’t fair for anyone. I now felt secure in the knowledge that people here had loved her and still did. Her journals had proved just how much she loved this valley.

  I had the power to free Mum of her decision to leave at last.

  “Can I ask you something?” I asked.

  “Anything,” Uncle Herc answered.

  Mustering my courage, I hugged him tight. He stiffened, but soon relaxed, hugging me back.

  “I’d like to scatter some of Mum’s ashes in the valley. Will you and Rhona come with me?” I listened to the hitch of his breath.

  He drew back. Tears sparked his eyes. “It would be our honour.”

  Any tears I’d cried over my mother were from lack of closure, regret, and that unexplainable guilt that came hand in hand with terminal illness. Scattering Mum’s ashes was something I didn’t need to cry about though.

  This felt right.

  “This is a bad time.”

  “It’s never a bad time.” Herc cut me off. “Have you got her ashes with you?”

  Since a certain werewolf started stealing my stuff? “Yes.”

  I’d moved her ashes into a zip-lock bag and stashed it in my sax case. Sascha wouldn’t steal the saxophone I needed for work. Though after Mandy’s his wolf doesn’t acknowledge rules speech, there wasn’t a chance in hell of me leaving my sax alone in the apartment either.

  “How about we find Rhona and rest your mother where she belongs?” Herc said.

  “I’d like that.” Then maybe my heart would feel lighter at last.

  Mine, and Herc’s.

  He guided me through the crowd, and Rhona took one look at my face before making her excuses to Foley and our unit.

  She grabbed my hand when Herc explained what was happening.

  “Do you have a place in mind?” he asked as we left the other stewards behind.

  “If you know of a spot Mum loved, that would be great. I’d like to eventually put a headstone for her close to Grandmother Charise’s.”

  Herc was silent, and I watched the struggle on his face. “Of course.”

  I grabbed my saxophone case from the car. “Okay, ready.”

  “She’s in there?” Rhona asked, snorting.

  Herc’s brows rose when I nodded. Perhaps that seemed strange when a stalking werewolf was removed from the equation.

  We followed Herc through the manor and out the back. We trekked an easy trail behind the training pavilions and cabins. Eventually, the trees parted to frame a meadow blanketed in the soft rays of last sunshine.

  “Beautiful,” I whispered.

  Herc’s voice was thick. “Ragna loved this meadow. She came here to read and write in her journal.”

  Mum wrote here? I closed my eyes, drawing forth her words. Her woes and complaints—the small and large excitements in her life. I could just imagine her here in the summer furiously jotting thoughts on paper.

  I opened my eyes and watched Herc cross to a large red oak.

  “Right here,” he said. “Hours at a time. Whenever our parents couldn’t find her, we’d search this spot. Ragna’s Meadow, Mum called it.”

  The grass beyond the tree line sat knee-high, rustling in smooth waves. The meadow was straight out of Bambi—a movie I’d watched alongside my mother at least fifty times when young. That made this space special in a way unique to me too—which relieved an anxiety I hadn’t realised was there.

  “It’s beautiful enough for my mother,” I said at last.

  “What was
she like?” Rhona asked, hands shoved in her jacket as she stood by the red oak.

  I couldn’t trust myself to speak for a long beat. I forced away the burning in my eyes. Turned out this was a crying occasion. “She was…” Broken. “Joy. Fierce joy.”

  My voice cracked, and I knelt to open my saxophone. Passing the instrument to Rhona, I eased back the lining, pulling out the insert that kept the saxophone snug and safe. The plastic baggie was beneath, and I took it in my hands.

  My mother was inside.

  I had to say goodbye to the part of her that belonged in this meadow, but I didn’t feel strong enough to part with all of her tonight.

  “Just some,” I told them. “I’d like to keep her close too.”

  Herc’s voice was hoarse. “Whatever you need, Andie.”

  “Will you play first?” Rhona held up my sax. “Your music must have been important to Ragna if you kept her ashes in there. We’ve never heard you.”

  More to stave off the moment of farewell, I handed Mum’s ashes to Herc, who hesitated before cradling the bag in both hands.

  Slipping the neck strap over my head, I wet the reed, taking a breath that didn’t fill me. Mum’s funeral was a farce, really. She hadn’t deserved to be alone for the goodbye or for things to be so damn silent.

  Maybe I’d expected more at the time. To find acceptance or…

  I had no idea what. But I didn’t get it.

  The song was a no-brainer. Mum always requested one in particular.

  Standing beneath the red oak, I closed my eyes and played the sombre opening notes of “From Now On,” a song from The Greatest Showman. Mum fell in love with the movie, and while I’d always felt more connected to “This is Me,” Hugh Jackman brought tears to Mum’s eyes with this number.

  I imagined the choir behind me and the slap of drums as the song built in my chest and heart, the dramatic music flying from the bell of my sax. The song of regret and resolve soared through the meadow, filling the air as my mother filled my life.

  She’d always be here. In this valley.

  And with me.

  Softening the final bars, I held the last note, lowering my sax. I didn’t brush away my twin tracks of tears, and neither did Herc.

  Rhona sniffed, rubbing at her face.

  “A beautiful gift,” Herc croaked. “And a beautiful gift for your mother.”

  I set the sax in the case and took the bag back. Opening the zip-lock, I drew forth my favourite memory of Mum.

  Nothing specific. Nothing outlandish.

  Just the moments we’d spent in the garden when she had cancer, talking about this and that.

  Just her company.

  Maybe cancer stole her away too early, but we’d appreciated each moment together after her diagnosis until the end. Not everyone could say the same. Long-term illnesses took so much, but they gave us that—a warning.

  I sprinkled half of her ashes around the base of the tree in a circle and stood between my uncle and cousin.

  Herc did his best to remain silent at first. I wrapped an arm around his shaking shoulders, squeezing tight.

  Rhona stepped forward, looking at the red-leaf tree illuminated by the dying sun.

  “I didn’t know you, Aunt Ragna. But you gave us Andie, and I’ll always be grateful to you for that. Be at peace.”

  Uncle Herc approached and bowed his head, not speaking aloud. It was fine. I’d had my moment in silence too.

  Rhona lingered by my side when her father faced us, wiping his face.

  “Thank you, Andie,” he said. “That meant more than you know.”

  I could see that. “Don’t feel guilty about the past. My mother made her choices and you made yours. Guilt and regret are so small in the scheme of things.” Our lives were a grain of dirt on the forest floor. Almost insignificant.

  He gazed at me, attention shifting to Rhona for an instant. He opened his mouth and started speaking, only to shake his head and stop.

  Herc encompassed us both in his arms. “I love you both.”

  Releasing us, he left the meadow.

  “My mother played the piano,” Rhona said suddenly.

  I took her hand. “I bet she played beautifully.”

  “No, it sounded fucking awful. But… I miss it. And her voice. Terrible too. I miss that most of all.”

  My cousin dropped her gaze, and I set my forehead to hers.

  “Where do you see your mother now?” I whispered. “I see mine in the air. She was so free-spirited.”

  Rhona exhaled. “Mum anchored me and Dad. Made us better people. I don’t feel complete without her. She was my earth, I guess.

  “It’s okay to miss someone who’s gone. You’re incredible, Rhona. Never forget it.”

  “I’m not kind like she was.”

  “If you’re fierce, it’s because you’re loyal and willing to give your all. Don’t lose yourself on the scale of someone else’s personality. Even an amazing person.”

  She was quiet and we swayed, forehead to forehead until the sun disappeared.

  “Sleepover tonight?” she asked quietly.

  My cousin felt like an extension of myself sometimes. “Sleepover.”

  I glanced back at the red oak.

  I felt lighter.

  32

  “Will this thing make it up the hill?” Cameron asked over the whine of the engine.

  Her question was valid.

  “This thing has a name. Ella F will get us there,” I said, inwardly quaking. That really didn’t sound good.

  Driving Wade, Cameron, and Rhona to Sandstone seemed like a good idea to calm myself before Grids, but the steep terrain had Ella F shook.

  My passengers were silent as the Corolla crested each peak.

  I snuck a look at Rhona. Dark circles smudged beneath her eyes, and I suspected mine were the same. Wade’s advice on sleep was soundly ignored last night, but what I’d shared with my cousin seemed like something I’d remember for the rest of my life. We’d talked until the early hours about our mothers.

  When I looked at her, I couldn’t feel any walls between us. This was what it felt like to trust someone.

  I trusted Rhona.

  I became aware of Wade’s laser focus.

  “On your period?” he asked.

  That’s what contraceptive arm implants were for. “No.”

  “Good. Because wolves can smell it.”

  My jaw dropped. “For real?”

  “Probably.”

  Cameron whacked his thigh as I navigated a tight hairpin turn. “You’re a dick.”

  He smirked. “Just keeping it real.”

  “Will we arrive in time, cuz?” Rhona sounded as bored as always.

  I patted Ella F. “Unsure.”

  She snorted, resuming her vigil out of the window.

  I made the turn to Thana Reserve at last, ignoring Wade’s sarcastic celebrations as my nerves returned a hundredfold. Greyson hadn’t reared his head, and nothing was amiss in Rhona’s room when I woke this morning.

  My belongings were accounted for without any expensive, stalker additions.

  Given the ending of our last meeting, his absence just made my stomach churn.

  Parking behind a black Jeep, I shivered, remembering the way Sascha hooked my panties, drawing them aside. His mouth lowering. Those honey eyes—

  “Who are you thinking about?” Cameron blurted.

  My gaze flew to hers in the rear-view mirror. “What?”

  She turned to Wade, fanning her face. “Andie’s having a wet daydream.”

  “Probably about the guy who left a signed record and player in her room the other day.”

  Ugh, shit.

  Rhona rose both brows.

  “Nope. Not thinking about anyone.” I threw open my door.

  We grabbed our packs from the boot, and I ignored their digging questions as we joined the swelling mass of stewards. Unlike Clay and Timber, we only entered this grid from one side.

  Changing into our cream
latex and linen ball-sac uniforms, Rhona and I located our unit near the quarry frontline. My cousin ran through her checks on our protective vests and climbing harnesses, checking her own after.

  “Anyone feel like a ninja turtle with these on?” Billy tapped on the white ballistic shield covering his back—a new addition after the drones.

  The shield wasn’t as restrictive as I’d expected. Running and climbing with it shouldn’t be too hard.

  “Why do the ninja turtles wear masks?” Foley asked. “The masks don’t hide shit. They’re walking and talking turtles. Picking them out of a line-up wouldn’t be hard, you know?”

  Ignoring the banter, I swept a hand over my ropes and carabiners and searched my pockets to locate smaller gear. The goal was to fumble less this week and run faster.

  If I managed not to hang myself on the cliffs, that’d be awesome.

  Dang. Vomiting was a very real future for me.

  “Taken your vertigo meds?” Rhona asked.

  “Yep.” I breathed thinly, focusing on slow exhales as Herc called for quiet.

  “Sandstone,” he began, red hair visible over the masses. “We’ve controlled this grid for over fifty years. During that time, the wolves have thrown all manner of strategies our way. Many times, they’ve come close to overthrowing us, always falling short. This is such a time. For centuries, stewards have stood where you stand now, in your very footsteps. This is our time. We will protect this land and those contained within it. Today, we honour what our tribe stands for. Today, we fight for the right to protect this land—”

  It never ceased to amaze me—that moment when the mood shifted from game to battle. I felt it within me today. This land was in my blood. These people too.

  Roderick was right. The Luthers had their own agenda. My job was to focus on our plan. I had to trust this tribe—because the alternative was to act as an individual and screw our chances.

  I couldn’t let my uncle and cousin down.

  Herc held up a fist. “—Today, we show our enemy that their best tricks aren’t enough. This land flows in our blood!”

  I shouted with the others.

  Energy thrummed under my skin, unable to be contained. I fidgeted on the spot between Billy and Laura until Rhona beckoned me over.

  “Any questions?” she asked.