Shadow Wolf

by Aimee Easterling

  It made no sense because the hilltop was empty save for me and Liam. And Mama—but she was back beneath the Master’s thumb. So what....?

  Almost afraid to take my eyes off the Master, I nonetheless turned to peer back at the battlefield. And as I did so, I understood at once what had turned the tide.

  Because there was a two-legger standing at the edge of the forest. Stephanie—the human social worker—had her mouth wide open as if she was shrieking words not quite loudly enough to reach me over the din between us.

  Meanwhile, leaping from wolf to wolf like a child on a trampoline, a red-furred fox was nipping animal after animal on the nose.

  KIRA WASN’T MERELY nipping. She was also licking. And as she swiped her long, pink tongue across yet another bamboozled werewolf’s nostrils, the veneer of culture Liam had formerly dragged atop his rotten core wafted entirely away.

  “You little bitch,” the Master growled. But while his words were heated, they weren’t steady. Instead, each scratch and lick clearly weakened him. I could see the effects as easily as if Liam had a magical meter pasted to the center of his forehead.

  He swayed, cringed, barely managing to remain erect. Still, he wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t fight against the damage. Thrusting his hand forward, he cast an inaudible order over the crowd.

  A neck didn’t snap this time; teeth did. Werewolf teeth one millimeter away from Kira’s toes. Previously, the fighting had been dispersed and erratic. But now, at least half the shifters beneath us converged upon my sister as she spun sideways, pushed off balance by the unexpectedly united front.

  Vaguely, I noted that Stephanie was forcing her way among the wolves in search of Kira. A flash of movement to one side was likely Crow or Allen in lupine form doing a better job beating a path toward their shared goal.

  But they didn’t have time to reach her. Not when Liam could see across the field with no obstructions and still had dozens of werewolves obeying his beck and call.

  He’d forgotten me though. Had forgotten that the blood welling up out of my finger hadn’t yet bound us back together. Had forgotten that his nosebleed continued unabated and he was currently flinging life fluids hither and yon.

  All it took was a twist of my head to capture the first particle. All it took was one droplet landing on my tongue to break me free entirely.

  And this time I didn’t worry about Elle’s hurt feelings. I didn’t consider the possibility of Liam stealing my magic and using it to worsen his current depredations.

  Instead, I thought only of the pack splintering around us. Then, pulling my star ball into sword form, I swung toward my opponent’s jugular and mowed the Master down.

  Chapter 43

  My sword hit spine and lodged there. But lack of forward momentum was irrelevant, because Liam was already dead.

  And as he crumpled to the ground beside me, Mama’s magic oozed out of his body right alongside spurting blood. At first, the spray of bodily fluids was so intense I didn’t even know what was happening. But then, somehow, my mother gathered enough energy to speak.

  “Mai. I’m going. I’m almost gone. Kira....”

  I immediately understood what my mother was telling me, but I couldn’t seem to breathe sufficiently to do anything about it. Because Mama was right—she was already fading around the edges. The glowing star ball at her center was dimming as her fingers wisped away into the night.

  Clods of dirt raining down upon a closed coffin. My father’s tall body beside my own. My newborn sister relentlessly crying....

  Mama had willingly ceded her body thirteen years earlier for the sake of my sister. Despite my current pain, I couldn’t be the one responsible for turning that sacrifice into Kira’s untimely death.

  So I tore my gaze away from my mother’s spirit. Screamed my sister’s name across the field...

  ...Or, rather, croaked it. Because my face was wet, I realized, tears streaming down my cheeks and throat choked up too tight to speak normally.

  Forcing air into my lungs, I tried one more time. “Kira. I need you up here immediately.”

  The tone that emerged was the same one I used to halt homework procrastination. Luckily, this time it had a better than usual effect.

  Because the battle below was ending. Without Liam to pull the strings, wolves were pausing, shaking their heads in bemusement, then beginning to shift to their more rational form. Meanwhile, Stephanie had taken advantage of the confusion to pick her way between former combatants, and Crow had already reached my sister’s side.

  The latter met my eyes with steady willingness. Then, without even glancing to his alpha for permission, he grabbed Kira’s fox body up like a football and swung her with all his might toward the top of the hill.

  Kira must have drunk pints of blood in the preceding moments in order to manage a shift after being drained so thoroughly. But the exhilarating power coursing through her didn’t make her laugh and play the way she usually would have. Instead, her brows furrowed and her eyes widened as she plummeted toward me. My sister had matured in the hours we’d been apart.

  She’d matured, but she still possessed the needle-sharp claws bound to tear into me when she landed. I braced myself for the scratches...only Kira didn’t scratch me because she didn’t reach me. Instead, she flew through what remained of Mama’s star ball, and the magic grabbed hold and refused to let loose.

  Light embraced the fox that was my sister. For half a second, incorporeal fingers smoothed fur away from wide, dark eyeballs.

  Then, Kira regained her humanity, a vibrant glow of health blushing cheeks that had been white and sickly just an hour earlier. And, just like that, Mama was entirely gone.

  WE’D LOST AND WON ALL in the same moment. And all I wanted was to enfold my only surviving family member into my arms.

  Kira, on the other hand, had other thoughts about the matter. “This is so cool!” she hooted, her earlier quietness erupting into joy as she opened her hand to reveal a star ball subtly different from the borrowed one that used to follow her around our apartment. That magical orb had stuck to Kira’s heels but had never obeyed her transformation orders. This one, in contrast, molded in the blink of an eye into the form of a tremendous, curving blade.

  “Woo hoo!” she started, then her hoot transitioned into a gurgling “Ergh!”

  Because even though we were a sword-wielding family, neither of us had any idea what to do with a scimitar. So it was no surprise that the ax-like widening at the tip of the materialized magic overbalanced my sister. The newly created weapon swung downwards as she fumbled...and nearly lopped off a couple of my fingers as it dropped.

  “Oopsie,” Kira finished unapologetically before swiping the weapon sideways and adding serrations to the blade that caused a strange whistling noise. But I’d already lost track of her enthusiasm, the prickling of hairs on the back of my neck proving that a magic-happy teenager was the least of my concern.

  “Kira,” I warned. And without another glance at her glowing weapon, I took a long step forward in front of her. My body, I hoped, would be enough to shield my sibling from danger...which came in the form of dozens of shifters now clambering up the side of the hill.

  Most were two-legged, which should have been a relief after the animalistic battle that had recently ended. But there was something worse about knowing the rapidly approaching werewolves were in their right minds...and still intent upon a kill.

  “They did this to us. Kitsunes.”

  Their leader wasn’t an Atwood, but he was someone I recognized. Edward, the older male who had gathered forces from the village to assist Gunner’s strike.

  Which meant he was on our side...or should have been. But Edward’s eyes focused on the glowing scimitar in Kira’s hand for one split second before boring into my forehead. “Both of you are kitsunes,” he decided, having apparently understood more of the preceding moments than I would have expected. “You turned brother against brother within our pack.”

  It was ha
rd to tell through the grime and wounds of battle, but it appeared that several of Edward’s compatriots had recently fought on the opposite side. Healing scratches marked Liam’s lackeys—no wonder they were ready to tear into me and Kira to prevent similar possession from ever happening again.

  “Kira, go,” I ordered, my own star ball taking longer than I would have liked but eventually materializing into my tried and true weapon. It wasn’t a flashy scimitar, but it would get the job done.

  Only Kira didn’t move...and no wonder with the scent of ozone popping up behind both of my shoulders. I didn’t even have to look to know two brothers now flanked me—Gunner on the right side, Ransom on the left.

  The only surprising part was who spoke first—the older sibling’s voice loud enough to carry easily to the back of the approaching force. His words, however, were about what I expected. “See, little brother. This is why you are unsuited to rule.”

  Chapter 44

  A week ago, pack had been something foisted upon me. Despite Gunner’s best efforts, I’d flitted around the outside of his crew’s unity, uncertain how I felt about them folding Kira closer and closer into their midst.

  Now, though, I understood what it meant to literally stand between two brothers. The ties of blood and pack binding the duo together were palpable...and I could almost see that connection radiating out across all of the shifters currently joining us atop the hill.

  Because every shifter who could walk or limp was climbing up behind Edward now. There were far too many crumpled bodies left lying, but no one stayed to assist allies or enemies they picked their way past. Instead, as one being, werewolves were drawn to the heart of the pack’s power...and to the disagreement that had nearly succeeded at cracking that heart in twain.

  Nearly, but not quite. Or so I hoped, based on the fact that Ransom was still needling his brother verbally rather than finishing the job he’d recently started. Both brothers were still standing, which meant the role of clan leader was still in doubt.

  “Is that how you see it?” Gunner murmured before diving directly to the core of what his brother had insinuated. “You consider loyal kitsunes a weakness rather than a strength?”

  “Loyal?” Ransom laughed shortly then peered across the crowd. “Who here thinks these vixens are loyal to anything other than their own best interests? Who here would sleep a wink knowing kitsunes lived in the house next door?”

  For a moment, all shifters remained silent. Then Tank’s voice spoke up from somewhere to the left of center. “I slept very well one floor below kitsunes,” he asserted.

  “As did I,” Allen called from way down at the bottom of the hill.

  In contrast, the angry murmurs closer up were daunting. And despite my best intentions to keep a low profile and try not to make matters worse for Gunner, I took a step backwards and grabbed my sister’s arm.

  Because when it came right down to it, I would do whatever it took to protect Kira. Gunner, I knew, would eventually understand.

  I didn’t immediately drag my sister to safety, however, planting my feet and waiting for Gunner’s reaction instead. He’d sidestepped this issue so gracefully and often over the course of the spring and early summer that I fully expected him to repeat the maneuver now that it really mattered. He’d assist me and Kira in making our escape then glue the clan back together. After all, pack meant everything to an alpha werewolf.

  Or so I thought until Gunner willingly broke families apart all around us.

  “Then we have nothing in common after all,” Gunner answered, his voice carrying easily to every listening shifter. “Those who feel as my brother does are free to follow him. Pack up your houses, your families, take anything that’s yours by tomorrow lunchtime and go.

  “But if you’re smart,” the younger Atwood brother continued, his voice sad but no quieter, “you’ll think it over. Talk to your parents, your mate, your children and decide whether it’s really so bad to live check-to-jowl with kitsunes.”

  He paused, the air around us seeming to suck into his body as every audience member held their breath, waiting. Then, finally, Gunner finished his thought.

  “Because if you leave now, it’s a forever decision. The Atwood clan will not welcome traitors back.”

  I HALF EXPECTED RANSOM to fight against his brother’s edict. After all, the elder brother had wanted the full Atwood power, not whatever portion of it came with carving a new territory from outpack land.

  But when I took my eyes off my sister long enough to look at Ransom head-on for the first time since the battle ended, I saw that the older brother literally had no leg to stand on. There was blood streaming down his temple and gashes all over his body. Meanwhile, Ransom’s left calf bent at an unnatural angle, only the efforts of two other shifters holding him erect.

  There would be no more fighting between the brothers. Not tonight. Not when Ransom couldn’t walk without help.

  But that didn’t prevent the elder brother from following up on Gunner’s ultimatum. “If you’re smart,” he told the crowd at large, “you’ll leave now with me rather than bedding down with foxes.”

  Then, without a single glance at his younger brother, Ransom fell forward onto three legs. The fourth tucked up beneath him, and he hop-stepped forward through the crowd as regally as any alpha wolf.

  So, yes, Ransom had the wounded-warrior thing going for him. But one day earlier, Gunner possessed the full loyalty of every other shifter in this territory. One day earlier, if the younger brother had stood up and declared himself pack leader, no one except his brother would have batted an eyelash before bowing to their new lord.

  But now, hands drifted down to touch the vanquished brother’s fur as he pressed past his pack mates. And far too many glanced once at me and Kira before turning to follow Ransom away from the life they’d cherished up until now.

  The pain of the pack dissolving hit me like a blow to the solar plexus. But it was my little sister who made the demand I itched to dish out. “Gunner, do something. Mai and I can...”

  Her voice petered out then, not just because there was no real solution but also because Gunner had taken the child into his arms and pressed his lips to her forehead. “It’s not your fault,” he murmured one inch from her skin, speaking almost too softly for me to hear him. “It’s done. You’re worth it. Now hush.”

  The gesture had been meant to comfort my sister, but it also consolidated the truth of Gunner’s alliance with kitsunes. No wonder a sigh washed over the remaining shifters, the visible proof of their alpha’s loyalties provoking yet more members of the audience to break away.

  And still Gunner did nothing. Not even when a figure began moving toward us out of the dwindling gathering, materializing into Elle as she stopped directly in front of her half-brother’s nose.

  “I have to go with Ransom...” Gunner’s cousin—half-sister—started. And for the first time I smelled a crack in the new pack leader’s armor.

  “Because I wasn’t a brother to you.” The alpha paused, swallowed. “I’m sorry for my part in your mother’s loss.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. It wasn’t your fault.” For half a second, Elle reached up to trail her hand across Gunner’s cheek. Then she sighed and took one long step back. “But Ransom needs me more than you do....”

  And Gunner was an alpha hardwired to protect his underlings. So he nodded, jerked his head into the half-darkness toward someone I couldn’t make out in the distance. “Crow, go with your woman.”

  Then, just like that, half the werewolves I trusted were no longer part of our pack.

  Chapter 45

  “So this is what you were hiding.”

  Most of the nearby shifters had either followed Ransom or gone to tend to the injured by the time Stephanie made it to the top of the rise to join us. Which was probably a good thing, since the human had no concept of how to act around riled-up werewolves. Her flashlight slid across our faces, blinding me briefly and provoking the scent of fur from my companions.
Then the beam settled resolutely at my sister’s feet.

  “Mrs. B...” Kira started. But the social worker talked right over the teenager, taking yet another step forward so she could wave a finger under Gunner’s nose.

  “Have you people never heard of pedophilia? Child endangerment? You really let a thirteen-year-old wander around with no clothes on where anyone can see?”

  Clothes? After watching a pitched battle and shifters transforming from wolf to human, this was what Stephanie was most concerned about?

  Luckily, Allen had us covered...quite literally. Unlike his pack mates, he hadn’t shifted into animal form during the preceding battle. Which meant he was wearing human-appropriate clothing and possessed a backpack full of much-needed spare shirts.

  “Big, bad wolf,” read the one he tossed to Kira. Gunner shielded the child as she shrugged into the tent-like t-shirt, the large male’s body seeming to shrink in on itself at the same time as he submitted in an entirely un-alpha-like manner to the social worker’s wrath.

  “I know what you saw today was upsetting,” Gunner started....only to be silenced by Stephanie’s “Eh, eh, eh.”

  “No, I don’t want your explanations,” the middle-aged matron rebutted. “The time for that would have been last week or last month. Around the time you invited me to that first cookout.” Then, dismissing the alpha werewolf entirely, Stephanie pushed him aside so she could offer my sister much softer words. “The fact that you’re a fox girl...”

  “Kitsune,” my sister countered quietly. Despite the clarifying interruption, her tone suggested even she was cowed by the official’s disappointment and barely restrained rage.

  “Kitsune,” Stephanie repeated, sounding out the word slowly to make sure she said it correctly. “Whatever your heritage, child, you’re my responsibility. And I think you should come with me right now....”