Shadow Wolf

by Aimee Easterling

“If you can’t do this, I will,” the Master warned. “You’ll like my solution even less.”

  Without me willing it, my head turned back to glance behind me. A dozen red-tinged eyes materialized behind my back. These wolves would tear Gunner apart in seconds, would skin him alive and laugh as he screamed.

  Gunner must have sensed the danger as well as I did, but he barely acknowledged the newcomers’ approach. Instead, he dropped his sword to the ground and grabbed my head in both of his hands. “Mai, you owe me,” he growled.

  And my debt slapped me in the face like a bucket of ice water. My voice—jerked free of the Master’s grip for one split second—spouted powerful words.

  “I, Mai Fairchild, swear to protect and uphold the Atwood pack to the best of my ability....”

  Then the hold on my spirit that had been shaken by Gunner’s debt was shattered. Blood flooded my mouth as I bit down as hard as possible on the inside of the male I possessed’s cheek.

  And as power rushed through me, wolves streamed past me. Gunner grunted as he fell beneath their assault.

  “No!” I yelled...or thought...or murmured.

  Then I slipped out of the body I’d been inhabiting and floated away into the void.

  Chapter 40

  When Liam pushed me out of my skin previously, I’d hovered disembodied for only a split second. This time, however, the darkness surrounded me for so long I thought I’d misgauged the ability of shared blood to pull me to my sister’s side.

  At least I wasn’t back in my own body to be pushed around by the Master. At least I wasn’t on that battlefield being forced to fight a werewolf I wanted instead to help.

  Still, it was agonizing to wait there in nothingness. But then words flowed out of the darkness, proving that Kira—and I by proxy—was merely sitting quietly in the forest without a light.

  “Don’t you think it would be more fun to hang out by the campfire?”

  “Not really,” I felt and heard myself—my sister—answer the social worker. “Bigfoot isn’t going to come near a campfire. Surely even you know that?”

  As Kira spoke, she raised one hand to scratch her nose...and the effort, I sensed, was nearly enough to topple our shared body to the earth. Wherever we were, however we’d gotten here, my sister was not the chirpy, carefree teenager I’d left behind.

  No wonder I felt so at home in her body. Because my spirit felt as weak as my sister’s when I imagined Gunner falling on that hilltop beneath a wave of bloodthirsty wolves.

  Stephanie, of course, was oblivious to all subtext. So she had nothing to react to other than the snarkiness in my sister’s voice. “Kira,” the social worker admonished.

  And even though the pending adoption seemed like a vague storm cloud on a distant horizon at the present moment, loyal pack mates quickly jumped in to smooth down my sister’s rough edges. “What she means...” Crow started, before petering out as he failed to think of a way to make Kira’s insubordination palatable.

  Luckily, Allen was ready to fill in gaps with a profusion of information that effectively muddied the trail. “...is that cryptozoology is a common hobby. Bigfoot, the Loch Ness monster, and more minor species such as the adjule and bunyip are fun to research and hunt for even though we know they don’t exist in the wild. It’s no different from practicing stage magic. Knowing what’s real and what’s myth doesn’t make the latter any less entertaining as a hobby to cultivate.”

  “Simon did say something strange was going on in your family....” Stephanie’s cagey tone suggested she was reacting to more than Kira’s ill-chosen comment. Or perhaps the social worker was merely taken aback by Allen’s dissertation on cryptozoology. Either way, it was enough to take my thoughts away from Gunner for a few brief seconds. And to make me wish I could see the human woman’s face.

  Just like that, my fingers—Kira’s fingers—flicked the switch on the flashlight that had been sitting in our lap. The glow was painfully bright after so long in darkness, but not so blinding that I couldn’t see a flash of motion off to our right....

  Elle. Of course. How had I forgotten who else would be present on this supposed camping trip? How could I have not wondered whether the Master’s sister was in league with her twin’s plans?

  Only Elle gave me no reason—beyond her genetics—for me to doubt her motives. Instead, she bent her neck toward me, averted her eyes in submission. Then, filling her voice with hidden meaning, she said, “I think I need to pee. Kira, care to tag along?”

  I WASN’T QUITE SURE what I’d done to give away my presence, but Elle definitely knew who was hiding behind my sister’s eyeballs. Kira, on the other hand, just as definitely did not.

  Because the child went with the flow until she and Elle were far enough from the others so human ears couldn’t overhear our conversation. Then she dropped the flashlight she’d used to guide us, her hand shaking as if touching the plastic had stung.

  “I didn’t turn on that light!”

  My sister’s panic surged through me, her body quivering just like her voice had done. She was weak as a newborn kitten. Perhaps because the Master was draining Mama’s star ball back at the gathering, turning Kira wan and pale by proxy?

  “I know,” Elle started, less interested in Kira’s physical weakness than in her emotional distress. “I think....”

  But Kira was past the point of listening to reason. “Then get it out of me!” she demanded, slapping her cheeks so hard the sting brought tears to our eyes.

  And, for one instant, I returned to the hilltop. I could almost hear the growling and tearing as the carnage I’d already witnessed flashed before of my eyes.

  Or...maybe I really could hear the battle. Was that why my sister had been sitting in the darkness away from any campsite? Had she talked the guys into creeping as close as they could safely come to the meeting hill?

  If so, there was a sliver of a chance that these few shifters could turn the tide in Gunner’s favor. But only if I could get my sister to stop batting at her face and let me speak with her tongue.

  “Out, out, out!” my sister was wailing. And I hoped that Stephanie’s hearing was worse than that of the average middle-aged human. Otherwise, we’d have a lot of explaining to do once we returned from this supposed bathroom break.

  Elle must have had the same thought. Because she grabbed our slender wrists with firm fingers. Held our hands away from our eyes. “You know it’s your sister inside you, Kira.”

  “I don’t!” the child started, speaking in gasps and bursts of emotion. “It could be anybody! It could be the bad guy!”

  And even though I didn’t want to scare my sister further, I seized her vocal cords and spoke through both of us. “Don’t be a doofus, bedhead. This is really me.”

  For a moment, the forest fell silent around us. Then, our shared voice asked plaintively, “Mai?”

  There was no time to soothe her, so I spit out facts short and not-so-sweetly. “Gunner is in trouble. Liam is the Master. He controls half of the shifters at the meeting hill. They’re trying to mow the others down at this moment....”

  “Then we’d better help Gunner.” Kira was as resilient and decisive as ever, never mind the fact that her knees wobbled as she stooped to grab the flashlight off the ground. I wanted to tell her that she wasn’t going anywhere, that she was going back to camp and crawling into a sleeping bag until everything was over.

  But the abrupt increase in illumination brightened our surroundings enough so we could see what the preceding drama had made us all miss. Stephanie had apparently decided to join the girls’ pee party. And now she stared wide-eyed at Kira, who to all appearances was carrying on a conversation with herself.

  “Simon was right. You are so much more troubled than any of us thought possible....”

  “No,” Elle started. “You don’t understand.”

  Then, to my horror, Kira dove toward the other shifter and bit down hard on my mentor’s wrist.

  Chapter 41

  I tasted
the faintest hint of blood, then I was reeling from a slap to my cheek that should rightfully have knocked me earthward. Only, someone was holding onto my shoulders. Or, not holding—that was the icy hug of possession as Mama spoke through my lips.

  “Yes, Master,” she and I said together. And I shivered as I realized all of my efforts to escape the battlefield had been for naught. I was back under the control of a crazy, power-hungry shifter, and this time Mama was the one making my body move.

  In desperation, I tried to lock my knees but instead found myself pacing the Master step for step as we neared the sounds of werewolves fighting. Vaguely, I noted that Liam and I must have been walking for most of the time I’d been absent from my body. Because we were back at the edge of the gathering hill, all signs of ceremonial hunt long since eradicated.

  Geography was the least of my concerns, however, since a rising moon now revealed a sea of furry bodies, lunging, biting, tearing...dying. I couldn’t see a single two-legger, nor anyone who appeared to be in touch with their rational senses. Gunner was similarly invisible, either lost in the melee or lost entirely beneath an avalanche of teeth and claws.

  And I knew, in that moment, that whoever was winning, the unity of the Atwood pack had already been irrevocably broken.

  Only...perhaps I’d been too hasty in my assessment. Because even as I took in a full breath of Atwood-flavored ozone, the fury of battle eased. And, beside me, Liam swore as he fumbled in his pocket before removing a vial and popping a cork out of the bottle’s neck with his teeth.

  The rich scent of blood rose between us, the cork returning to Liam’s pocket unneeded. Then my captor was tilting the vial over his head to decant the contents, the boost of power Mama had worked so hard to harvest inches from his lips.

  I couldn’t let Liam top up his magic and hasten the battle before him...but I couldn’t stop him either. Because my body was frozen just as he’d left it, inattention insufficient to break through the spell.

  On the other hand, the bottle was nearly empty. And old blood doesn’t flow like water, the last drop instead oozing down the glass wall so slowly that Liam was forced to tap the bottom violently in an effort to knock it loose.

  “Lazy harlot,” he growled, blaming my mother for...what? For failing to possess additional pack princesses and use sexual favors to lull shifter males into parting with their life fluids?

  The insult was rude...and powerful. Because a kitsune honors her debts, but she doesn’t have to obey a disparaging master.

  And Mama must have been waiting for exactly that moment. Because invisible, icy fingers brushed over my hand momentarily...then I was abruptly freed from external control.

  For half a second, I hesitated, gauging my path forward. If I killed Liam now, would Elle ever forgive me? Surely there was a less-than-fatal way to bring this struggle to an end....

  Then the drop worked its way out of the bottle and onto the tongue beneath them. And, beside me, Liam began to laugh.

  Which is when I realized we were in the midst of the dreamscape I so strongly remembered. Blood, moonlight, forest...and the Master before me smiling as he morphed Mama’s star ball into a whip.

  THE LASH OF MAGIC BIT through my clothes and into the skin beneath it, burning and freezing at the exact same time. Liam wasn’t wearing a cloak and I wasn’t wearing a kimono. Still, I felt myself being dragged forward just like in the dream as he murmured, “Come.”

  Mama was no longer possessing me, so I didn’t have to obey this order. Still, the whip was unyielding as I dug in my heels and tried to wriggle my arms free of the magical noose. My star ball turned into a wedge and slid between the loops of the binding...only to begin dissolving as my captor’s whip drained energy from me through it.

  Shocked, I sucked in my remaining magic just as Liam grabbed onto my wrist, putting me back in the same predicament I’d started in. “You’ll regret it if you disobey me,” my captor growled, physically pulling me through the battling shifters on his way up the hillside. He was moving so quickly that the wolves around us didn’t look up from their opponents long enough to decide we were worth a second glance. Still...impinging upon my personal space was my captor’s first mistake.

  Because I’d learned fighting long before possessing a star ball. Even with my arms bound around me, I wasn’t defenseless, nor was I weak.

  I bided my time, though, until we achieved the hilltop, the ground bloody but the area strangely vacant since the majority of the battle had drifted off to the western side. And as we crested the peak, the Atwood wolves were momentarily occluded by the steepness of the slope between us. Instead, all that met my eyes was dark canopies barely illuminated by the crescent moon...exactly the view I remembered from my dream.

  When all of this is over, I need to ask Elle about kitsune foresight, I thought randomly. And then, without even warning myself that an attack was coming...I struck.

  One leg hooked itself around Liam’s left calf muscle. Meanwhile, the heel of my other foot pounded into his knee. I had no way of keeping myself upright, but at least my opponent plummeted also....

  We fell to the earth in a tangle, Liam grunting—a disappointment since I’d been going for a kneecap-shattered howl. For a moment, either one of us might have come out triumphant. But I only had my legs to work with while he had use of both free hands.

  Sure enough, tight fingers settled around my neck less than half a minute later. The Master’s breath hissed as he whispered in my ear.

  “Don’t think you’re irreplaceable. I already own another kitsune,” Liam warned me. “Now watch...and learn.”

  Then one of his hands drifted a little higher until its fingers pinched my chin and twisted my head ninety degrees sideways. For a moment, I thought this was just another werewolf domination ritual. But then I noted a wolf standing eerily still in the middle of the battlefield....

  “An eye for an eye,” the Master continued. Then, releasing my chin, he snapped his fingers...and the wolf we’d been watching flipped its head back into an entirely unnatural posture before crumpling to the earth.

  Chapter 42

  “Here’s how we’re going to play this,” Liam continued, rising off me and not bothering to offer a hand as I lay prone at his feet. Instead, he dusted off his clothing, reminding me that he was the only werewolf present who hadn’t needed to shift in order to make his mark.

  “You’re going to pierce your own finger and give me some blood to start with,” he explained, cadence overly patient as if speaking to a child. “Then you’re going to squeeze out enough to fill this vial for snack time later on.”

  Demand and insult imparted with equal facility, the glass container dropped out of his fingers and grazed my forehead. The pain was immediate, but I was more interested in analyzing the contents as the bottle rolled off into the grass.

  It was empty, meaning that Liam’s borrowed magic was fading. If I delayed just a little longer, would the werewolves below us regain their senses and stop tearing into their kin?

  “Look at me when I speak to you.” Liam’s words were backed up by a squeeze of the magical noose that bound me, and I struggled onto my knees in an effort to prevent another cautionary tale.

  Because the Master’s magic was still effective at this moment—I could hear the results behind my back. How much heel-dragging would Liam accept before he provided another example of his power? Would Tank be the wolf he chose to murder next?

  As if following my thought processes, Liam smiled widely, reaching toward me with a needle in his hand. I wanted to snipe at him verbally, to tell him he was an idiot for binding my arms then expecting me to reach forward with appendages that were currently glued on either side of my torso. But all I could think about was Tank’s earnest efforts to talk the judge around to giving me custody of Kira. So I struggled against the magical coils, attempting to obey the Master’s wordless command.

  And the effort was apparently acceptable. Because Liam laughed a deep, throaty chortle that was
pure amusement at my terror and chagrin. “Ah, yes. How silly of me,” he murmured. And as easily as that, the magical cord around me loosened, slipping back to its master like a retreating snake.

  I was free of the physical binding but Liam smiled and rubbed his thumb absently across his four fingers, as if itching for the opportunity to teach me another lesson by taking an innocent’s life. So, rather than attacking, I rose slowly and accepted the needle with my right hand.

  The sliver of metal beneath my skin was a mere pin prick, nothing compared to the agony I’d feel once Liam used my blood to amp up the battle below. As if to prove that point, a howl rose from behind me. Higher pitched than the others, more of a yipping yelp morphing into a scream....

  Meanwhile, before me, Liam reminded me of my duty. “Now hold out your finger,” he demanded, his voice smooth again now that I’d started obeying him.

  Something about the recent howl made me want to turn and peer across the battlefield. But our current detente was precarious, and I didn’t dare to make any obvious move. Instead, I tried to get Liam talking. “I don’t understand why you need to use Ransom as a puppet,” I prodded, hating the fact that my voice quavered. “Surely you’re strong enough to rule this pack by yourself....?”

  Unfortunately, my captor didn’t feel the need to explain himself the way he had earlier. Instead, he merely crooked one finger and raised both brows.

  I could think of no solution save obeying him. So, hating every instant, I lifted my arm and offered up the bubble of blood pooling atop my skin.

  This was it. The moment my weakness finished breaking my pack mates....

  But Liam didn’t accept the offering. Instead, he winced and turned sideways. His hand rose to his face. And when he removed the protective fingers and peered at them, even I could see the dark coating of blood.

  Blood? Who could possibly have injured Liam from such a distance?