by Petra Landon
“Have you always wanted to be one?” she dared to ask as they walked in companionable silence.
“Always! Kind of like following the family tradition, you know?”
Sienna nodded. That she could understand perfectly.
“What about you, Sienna? You have tradition on your side too, don’t you?”
She wondered wildly which parent he referred to when it came to tradition on her side – the one who had died like his while attempting to bring in a rogue colleague or the one who gone rogue and eventually been held responsible for his parents’ death.
“I’m … umm … not sure” she stammered.
“You should consider it, Sienna. I have a feeling that you’d be a good fit.”
In that moment, Sienna envied him his certainty. How wonderful to be so sure of what one wanted to do with their life, she thought wistfully.
…
The screech of tires brought Sienna back to the present. A truck carrying equipment had swerved abruptly to the side of the road to come to a sudden stop.
Jason shot her a fleeting chocolate-eyed glance.
“Perhaps it was the Guardians who didn’t consider me worthy?” she suggested, responding to his original query.
“No, I checked” he shook his head gently. “There was no application on file from you. You never applied, Sienna.”
Sienna sighed softly, eliciting another glance from the man at the wheel.
“You wanted to forge a different life for yourself” he said quietly. “That’s perfectly understandable.”
“I wanted to get away from that world - just try and live a normal life, if that makes sense.”
And she had been given a clear signal to stay away from the Guardians. A signal that she had chosen to not ignore. She was her father’s daughter, after all. But she couldn’t tell him that - he was a Guardian. That was her secret – a secret that once revealed would direct the wizard and the wider Chosen diaspora to focus their considerable influence into dragging her back to their world. Then the life that she’d so painstakingly forged here would be gone in the blink of an eye.
“It does.”
“And now it looks like the old life I worked so hard to leave behind is pulling me back to it” she remarked candidly.
It was his turn to sigh softly.
“It might seem that way, Sienna. But I assure you that the threat to you is very real. I can’t say much but if even half of what we suspect is true, all of us wizards are in for a very tough time.”
Chapter 10
The Pack captures their rogues
Her body hurt all over like it’d been flattened by a truck – multiple times. The shackles on her hand and ankle bit into her flesh after the months of captivity. At first, she’d tried to keep track of the days. As the days had become weeks and eventually months, she’d lost count. Survival had become her sole focus, consuming all her energy. Her declining strength no longer allowed her the luxury of anything but fighting for elemental survival. This dwindling of her strength was not merely a result of the starvation rations provided to her. She had gradually come to the conclusion that it also had something to do with the witch’s magic. Every afternoon, without fail, the witch would visit her – those bright blue eyes would assess her coldly with clinical detachment. The witch seemed to be waiting for something. It had taken her a few months but she had eventually guessed what spectacle the witch waited for - her human part to lose control.
The witch’s considerable powers were being utilized to awaken the beast within the prisoner. In the early days, it had been easy to keep her beast from breaking free. Hunger and pain had slowly abated her control. Now, she could sense the presence of the beast just beneath her skin, lying in wait for an opportunity to break free; waiting patiently to overpower the human part of her, the very part progressively weakened by the prolonged imprisonment, the use of silver, starvation and the powerful magic. She could feel the witch’s brew of magic skitter on her skin as the beast stirred to life inside of her to bellow a demand for its freedom. But she wouldn’t give in – she would never give the witch the satisfaction. Every week that passed made her weaker. And she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold off the beast. The beast had begun to sense the weakening of her control over it. For the first time in her life, she was beginning to fear that which she had never imagined could ever happen to her – losing control to the beast.
The door to the shed rattled softly and she struggled to pull her weakened body into a sitting position. She was damned if she’d cower in the witch’s presence. The tall wizard with the face of an angel came forward to stand before her. She felt the powerful magic lick at the edges of her body as the beast sprang forth within her, roaring to burst out. She clenched her fists, closing her eyes to focus on controlling the beast. As she’d done for the past few months, she let everything except the beast recede from her focus – the shed, the shackles, the starving and tired body and the witch with the blue eyes staring down at her as she lay powerless.
When she had managed to assert some control over the beast, she opened her eyes to gaze up at the blue eyes that stared down at her so clinically. For the first time, she sensed that the witch was angry. She didn’t know how she could tell but she was sure of it. A cold anger but anger, nevertheless. A sliver of satisfaction blazed in her at the realization. Along with a welling of bitter hate – hate at the witch and all like her who would torment a Chosen for simply being different. The witch’s eyes flared with cold fire just as her prisoner felt a sting of magic hit her hard in the chest leaving her gasping for breath.
Tasia gasped awake, a silent scream on her lips as she sat up in the dark. Her trembling hand reached for the lamp on the nightstand beside her bed. Tasia made sure to keep a night light on now - the recurring nightmares made it a necessity. Probably had been too exhausted last night to remember to do so, she realized as the lamp switched to life. What was going on here, she wondered shakily. Although the nightmares had dropped off a little in their frequency, they were more acute. The details seemed less fuzzy than before but her experience in the dream, more intense. And it was always the same nightmare, or at least a snapshot of the same event like a story unfolding in her mind. It was always about her in the shed fighting for survival. Tasia could vividly recall the pain of her starving and shackled body, the blinding fear that she wouldn’t be able to survive the next visit from the blue-eyed witch and her terror at not being able to control her beast from overpowering her.
Her beast! Tasia straightened up on the bed abruptly, doing a mental double take at this particular cue. This was the first time that she’d noted this particular detail. Or perhaps the first time that she had remembered this aspect of her dream, she corrected herself. How could she have a beast in her, she wondered wildly. Yet she could remember it so vividly - how it roared in her head, impatient to break free, and how she felt as it attempted to break through her skin. Was this how a Shifter felt as he grappled to control his beast!
The nightmares had started when she moved into the Lair. Was that why in her dreams, she experienced the worst nightmare of a Shifter – that of losing control to his beast? Had living amongst the Shifters here somehow awoken her sub-conscious to this horrible nightmare, she pondered shakily. If so, her sub-conscious better get a grip on this; and soon! Tasia wasn’t sure how may more nights of this she could take. Somehow her moving into the Lair had triggered this set of nightmares that she seemed unable to stop.
Tasia raised a shaky hand to her face. Her hair was drenched in sweat. She could feel her heart racing, a reaction to the continuing echoes of her nightmare. The hands on the clock by the bed pointed to two. The night was young yet. She slid off the bed to pad softly to the bathroom. A hot shower might do the trick – help drain away the remnants of the dream and get her ready for bed again. The shower did help but sleep continued to elude her. Horribly aware that she couldn’t afford to go without adequate sleep, Tasia decided that some hot chocolate mi
ght just help her fall asleep again.
The Lair seemed in unusual bustle tonight, Tasia observed. Shifters moved up and down the stairs purposefully while an air of quiet excitement hung in the air. Most paid no heed to Tasia – they’d gotten used to her presence here at the Lair. Still shaken by the dream and with sleep continuing to elude her, Tasia found herself impulsively following a small group of Shifters up the stairs. All the activity had aroused her curiosity. The Lair was always quiet this time of night even though the Pack Room on the top floor was known to be in use late most nights. She followed the Shifters up the stairs to the fourth floor and watched as they strode past the Pack Room, the door to which stood open with no sentry to guard access to it.
Looks like no meeting in progress in the Pack Room. Hmm.
After a moment of hesitation, Tasia peeped cautiously into the cavernous room. Two distinct groups of Shifters crowded it - one knot just inside the room from the doorway and the other group closer to the fireplace at the other end of the large room. One of the Shifters by the fireplace swung around suddenly to glance at the doorway. Tasia whipped herself back from the doorway, hoping that the Alpha hadn’t observed her.
“Witchling” called out a familiar voice.
So, he had noticed her. Drat that man!
Tasia moved reluctantly to the doorway to meet the gaze of the tall figure by the mantel, his favorite position. The Alpha crooked his finger at her, beckoning her in. Thus summoned, Tasia strode in unenthusiastically, somewhat reassured by the fact that the other Shifters in the room paid her no heed.
“What are you doing up here?” the Alpha asked, his tone brusque as usual.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I … umm … went out to get a drink when I saw the … “ she gestured vaguely to indicate the bustle around her.
“Come” he directed abruptly as he strode towards the door that led to the smaller shielded room set aside for his use.
Something has happened - something that affects me.
Tasia preceded the Alpha into the smaller room. He shut the door behind him to lean against it as he stared down at her.
“We have the rogues. Hawk tracked them down this evening.”
“The ro … rogues” Tasia exclaimed, momentarily confounded by his words. “Oh, you mean the Shifters that attacked me!”
Her life had changed so drastically since that night she’d met Hawk that in the cataclysmic upheaval, she’d somehow lost sight of the fact that the trigger to this entire disruption had been the rogue Shifters. For a moment, the realization staggered Tasia. Seriously alarmed and bewildered by the frequent terrifying nightmares, Tasia was particularly vulnerable after the latest installment of it, especially as it seemed to hint at something to do with the Shifters and their Lair. The old fears she had pushed to the back of her mind came surging back in an uncontrollable tide to leave her drenched in its aftermath.
What is wrong with me - how did I lose sight of my objective? The Pack was supposed to be the means to an end – to protect me from the consequences of the night I helped Hawk. Instead I’ve allowed myself to be so drawn into their world that I’ve lost sight of the bigger picture. All my effort and time has been spent in trying to understand them and cohabit with the Pack. I’m not a Shifter; they will never accept me as one of them. This was always meant to be a very temporary alliance; and one of mutual convenience. How could I have been so naïve as to lose sight of this!
“Yes” the Alpha assented. The gold eyes watching her reaction keenly had a puzzled glint in them had Tasia chosen to notice it. “You’re safe now.”
“Thank you” she responded, her manner subdued. “I’ll be moving out of the Lair in the morning.”
The Alpha contemplated her, the gold eyes speculative.
“We can safely dispense with your Shifter protective detail. However, I would like you to continue to stay here for a little longer.”
“Thank you, Alpha” Tasia reiterated again, almost by rote “The Pack has been more than kind to me.”
It was clear that she still intended to stick to her plans of leaving the Shifter residence. The Alpha’s expression tightened imperceptibly in response.
“That was not a suggestion, witchling” his voice hardened. “It was an order. I have yet to question the mercenaries. Until I’m satisfied with the reason for their interest in you, you will stay here at the Lair. I’ll be damned if I command my Shifters to stand guard outside your apartment for your convenience.”
“You’ve made your point” Tasia said quietly.
This man! No matter how much I try to coexist with the Pack or try to understand their way of life, the Alpha will never accept me - witchling that I am! It is time … to disentangle from the Pack and go back to my old life.
“Please let me know when you’re satisfied with your inquiries” she responded gravely, the gray eyes meeting the coldly angry ones directly. “I thank you again for the Pack’s protection. And I … I think it is time I left the Lair.”
The gold eyes flashed with a burst of cold fire for just a moment before he tamped it down with conscious effort. He stepped away from the door to hold it open for her, in effect dismissing her.
Why the anger? Isn’t this for the best, both for the Pack and me. This was always meant to be a temporary arrangement – it is now time to dissolve it.
“Miss Armstrong was right, Raoul” Duncan remarked in his usual unhurried manner. “The mercenaries were responsible for the assaults on female wizards in the city.”
The Alpha turned to meet Duncan’s eyes from his position by the mantel where he’d been gazing into the unlit fireplace.
“They copped to it?” he asked.
Duncan nodded. “That, my boy, was by far the easiest bit of information to be got out of them. They were under the impression that we wouldn’t care what they got up to with wizards in the city as long as they stayed off and I quote ‘the Alpha’s turf’.”
Raoul shook his head in disbelief. “What made them think that I’d be okay with them starting a mini war with the wizards on Pack turf?”
“I believe that your well-known dislike for the tribe of Spell Casters precedes you here, Raoul” Duncan responded with a steady gaze.
“What” Raoul exclaimed incredulously. “Let me get this straight! Because I’ve not hidden my dislike for wizards, a bunch of rogue Shifters assume that I will look the other way while they stir up a hornet’s nest between the wizards and my Pack.”
Duncan maintained a diplomatic silence as the Alpha spit out in incredulous anger. “If they’re so up to date with my views on Spell Casters, I hope they’re also aware of what I do to Shifters that dare trespass on my haunts without permission.”
“They certainly seem well aware of your reputation, Raoul.”
“Yet they chose to come hunting here” the Alpha retorted. “Why’d they go after the wizards anyway?”
“That is a mystery I’ve not yet resolved to my satisfaction. Like Miss Armstrong, I too suspect that they were hired to commit the muggings. Someone made it worth their while to trespass here despite what they knew of your reputation.”
“Who?” Raoul inquired baldly.
“We’re working on it” Duncan said quietly.
“Who’s been talking to them?” Raoul inquired. He’d put Luis and Elisabetta in charge of questioning the Shifters. They were both seasoned Were-Alphas with plenty of experience under their belt. There was something about this whole affair that set off his alarm bells - something that he could not quite put his finger on.
“Beltran and Elisabetta have been working on both Shifters together.”
“Perhaps it’s time I put in an appearance” Raoul decided.
“Perhaps” Duncan acknowledged. “They do appear to fear the Alpha Protector. Your fearsome reputation has spread far and wide, my boy.”
“Not enough to deter them apparently.”
“Yes” Duncan responded thoughtfully. “And therein lies the mystery.”
“
What else did we get from them?”
“There were three of them when they came to San Francisco – Hal, Mick and Phil. The last names are all assumed. Hawk took out Hal. Mick is the ringleader – the other two merely followed his lead. Phil hasn’t even met the man who hired them. All he could tell us was that a very powerful Chosen had hired Mick to do a job in San Francisco. They came here a few weeks ago and immediately commenced the muggings on wizards. A very special subset of wizards as we know – females possessing magic of level three and lower.”
“How’d a bunch of non-Pack Shifters get that kind of information on wizards? I’m pretty sure that the local Registry doesn’t publish magic levels for individual wizards.”
“According to Phil, a list of wizards to target was provided to Mick by the Chosen who hired them.”
“Hmm” Raoul’s eyebrows arched up in surprise. “Curioser and curioser” he quoted his English friend.
“I agree” Duncan said quietly. “When Hawk got onto them, Mick hatched a plan to capture him. The plan was to hold Hawk for a few weeks until they were done with their target list of wizards. Hawk proved harder to capture than they had assumed and killed one of their comrades in the process. So they hired Miss Armstrong to Mfector the warehouse while they searched for a new base. When they returned to the warehouse near dawn, Hawk had flown his silver coop. They realized immediately that he had to have had help in escaping his cage. They also knew that the place would be swarming with Pack soon, so they made the decision to get rid of the only person who could link them to that warehouse. They figured that would buy them the time they needed to target the rest of the wizards on their list.”
“So they tried to get rid of the witchling.”
“Miss Armstrong seems to have ended up in their cross-hairs only because she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“And because she came to Hawk’s aid” the Alpha added thoughtfully. “If she hadn’t, he’d have still been in that cage they’d put him in and there would have been no reason to get rid of her.”
