Izobel looked at her sister. An idea of how all this started formed in her head and she did not like it one bit.
“No. This can’t… I can’t be. I’m not…” Zoe shook her head, hugging herself she looked to Johnny. Her eyes begging him to tell her this wasn’t real. That it was all a mistake.
“Normally, the Metri are hunted down and culled,” Able said.
Izobel’s expression hardened and she took a protective step in front of Zoe ready to start the fight all over again.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Abel said. “This one… is different.” He glanced over his shoulder at Johnny. “The princess there,” he said gesturing with his chin toward Zoe, “She broke out of the rage. That’s never been done before.”
“But you imprisoned her anyway,” Izobel said.
Abel licked his lips. She was a clever thing. He nodded.
“According to John, she didn’t come out of it until it was too late.”
“Too late,” Zoe whispered with trembling lips. “You mean I… I killed my family?” Her face shattered. She shook her head. Sobs rocked her shoulders. “No! You’re lying. I would never… I couldn’t!”
There was no judgment from anyone in the room. She read compassion from every one of them; even Abel and she thought he hated her. But somehow their clemency made the truth of this so much worse.
“No! This can’t be. I can’t… I- I can’t.”
Zoe took off up the stairs. Izobel went to follow her. Johnny stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He shook his head.
“Give her time. Believe me, time is what she needs right now.”
His expression convinced her to stay. Izobel took in a breath just to blow it free.
Izobel compartmentalized. It was her coping mechanism. Bite-size chunks. That’s how she took on the world. She broke it down into manageable handfuls. This was no different. It certainly spun the scope of the situation. Recast a few characters, nothing she couldn’t handle.
“All right. She’s a werewolf. What happens next?” Izobel demanded.
Abel recognized the workmanship of her defenses. He thrived behind his. Now that he had a chance to look at her, he couldn’t get past her luxuriant waves. Her hair was like black velvet. The cream of her skin shined like the moon in contrast.
“On the full moon, she must prove her control in the Culling. It’s a ritual overseen by the King of the clan. Several Folk…” Conner rethought his language at the questioning look she gave him, “Humans born from Kin bloodlines, and Zoe will be locked in a cage. When the change takes her, if she can control it she will be welcomed into the clan.” Conner believed in informed decisions.
“And if she can’t?”
“Then the Folk die and she will be judged for their deaths,” he said flippantly. “Her life will be forfeit.”
“That’s monstrous!” Izobel growled.
“It’s tradition,” Abel said. His tone told her he didn’t like it much either. “We’ve all been through it.”
“Even those born to it?”
She didn’t miss much. Abel sort of liked that about her. “Rage is powerful. It’s difficult to control. The Culling is a rite of passage. A proving. Even those born of the blood are culled if they fail.”
Johnny looked at the floor. Conner looked at him. Abel held her gaze.
“Will Zoe pass it?” Izobel asked.
Abel shook his head plastering his lips together. “I don’t know. But it don’t look good.”
Izobel stood up straight. Her chin determined. “We’re leaving.”
“You don’t get it,” Conner quipped. “There’s nowhere to go. If she doesn’t make it through the Culling they’ll hunt her down from every corner of the earth.”
“Then tell me what to do. Because all you’re leaving me with here is killing a hell of a lot of werewolves!”
“Let us teach her,” Johnny offered. “We’re her only chance.”
Izobel dropped her head against her shoulders. Zoe would never survive a life on the run. Murder wasn’t an option Izobel liked, but she didn’t exactly rule it out. She hated being backed into a corner.
“Fine. But if she stays. I stay. I won’t be separated from her again.”
“You live here. You live by our rules,” Abel countered.
“If I decided to leave, there is no stopping me,” she stated.
Abel nodded. “We understand each other then.”
21
Chapter
Even covered in dirt with leaves and sticks tangled in her hair the Sparrow had a way about her. After a good night’s rest and a shower, Abel had a hard time tearing his gaze away. She wandered about the kitchen making herself a cup of tea. A peekaboo, chunky-crocheted dress hugged the lines of her willowy curves. The silky red slip was the perfect contrast to her milky skin. She stood in the kitchen like a fairytale made flesh. Izobel turned and the bruises on her face left him feeling a little guilty. One across her cheekbone, the other darkened the left corner of her sensual mouth.
“You plan on lurking there all day?” she asked conversationally.
He smirked and made his way into the kitchen. Pulling out one of the chairs at the table, he sank into it. “You know, you never did tell me how you found us.”
Izobel took a sip of her tea. “I’m not without my wiles.”
“That’s for you sure.”
Izobel sat down across from him. Silence stretched between them hungrily. Her expression made him want to fill it, and he wasn’t sure why.
“Sorry about the…” He made a half-assed punching motion and an exaggerated, scrunched, my-bad frown.
She smirked wincing. “I would have thought I gave as good as I got, but there’s not a mark on you.”
“Oh, you pack a wallop there, love. I just heal fast is all.”
Izobel nodded, mulling over the consequences of such a thing.
“I’m worried about Zoe. She won’t eat. I can’t get her to talk to me.” Izobel said heaving a sigh that settled her shoulders.
“It’ll take time. John hid in the forest for a week. He was inconsolable.”
She cocked a brow in question. “John?”
“Kin usually make their first change at around fifteen. But not all. John was ten. The wolf is too much for a child. Hell, it’s too much for some adults. And John is… he’s something special even among our kind.”
“He failed this ritual?”
Abel nodded.
“I thought you said they were culled?” Izobel said.
“Normally, they are. My mother appealed to the King. I pulled in every favor I had. He was such an unusual case. And our family name used to mean something,” he said rolling his eyes. “I convinced them to lock him away instead.”
Izobel sat back gazing at the four walls that surrounded them. “So this prison isn’t for Zoe?”
“No.”
“You’re sister was John’s chance to earn his freedom.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he chose her life over his freedom.”
“Maybe there’s hope for one of you after all,” she said with a smirk that tickled him.
Abel laughed. “You’re a hard woman.”
Izobel shrugged a delicate shoulder.
“So passing this test saves Zoe’s life. That’s it.”
Abel sat back and nodded. “I’m sorry there is nothing else we can do. John can teach her everything he knows but it won’t matter. There has never even been tales of a Lunatic who could control it. The rage is just too much for a human.”
“What about magic?”
Abel’s mouth dropped open to deny it but he stopped with the words balanced on his tongue. He cocked a brow. Sparrows were known. Some of the Kin have even worked with them before. But they were still two different species. Magic is magic you would think, but there were walls between the different kinds. Walls that could not be taken down or climbed, at least, none that he knew. The Kin kept the
ir secrets and the Sparrows didn’t like to share.
What did Abel care for secrets? If it meant his brother’s life? If it meant sparring an innocent, he’d happily share everything he knew.
“What did you have in mind?”
Izobel sighed. “I don’t know. But there has to be something. I won’t let them touch her. If I have to kill them all, my sister will survive this.”
He understood that sentiment, even admired it a little. Abel nodded. “I’ll help you on one condition.”
Izobel jutted her chin and looked the question at him.
“Whatever this spell is, you cast it on Johnny too.”
Abel had a hard shell, all alpha male and definite hard ass. The love for his brother shined through it like dappled sunlight. Izobel held out her hand. Abel took it and gave it a shake.
“I believe we have an accord,” Izobel said.
22
Chapter
Zoe traced the swirling floral designs on the far wall despondently. Tea and muddy blue colors weighted the room despite the natural light. Huge windows clad in so much woodwork it was more like armor illuminated the circular floor of the tower. Her room had a tower! At least the fairytale she was stuck in had aesthetic.
She had no more tears to shed. They’d all soaked into the flat pillows. Her head ached. Her throat was raw. Breathing was difficult. Her nose was stuffed up, and her eyes puffy. Johnny stood in the doorway, one hand on the jamb.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
John was fully prepared to be the stand-up guy she hoped he was and tell her everything. Come clean, wash all his sins away and start over.
It was right. That had been his answer to every person who questioned his actions all his life. It was a point of pride at first. It was also ingrained into his soul. At least he thought it was. Then he met her. Selfish stomped over his every impulse. His need for her was so great. Suddenly in the face of her, right, didn’t matter anymore. Close was all he could fathom.
She sniffed.
He took that as an invitation and wandered inside. The mattress rang out in a chorus of springs as Johnny sat down next to her. Silence deafened in their wake. It had been a while since he’d even come over to this wing of the house. He used the distraction to shut out his inner turmoil. So far it wasn’t working.
That night flowed back to him with alarming clarity. Flashes that kept getting brighter and more detailed the longer he spent in her presence. He was drowning and had pockets full of stones.
Johnny wasn’t sure what to say. Nothing would make it better. He knew that more than most. But Johnny still needed to try.
“It gets easier,” he whispered.
“You lied to me,” she croaked. “You told me it was Isaak. Whoever the hell Isaak is.”
His mouth fell open. A thousand apologies, a million different ways to beg forgiveness wet his tongue. But he still couldn’t force himself to frame the truth. No excuse was good enough. Every path led to the outcome of never seeing her again. He couldn’t do it.
“It was!”
He lied. Johnny didn’t just blame Isaak for some of it. He laid it all at Isaak’s feet.
Zoe gave him the benefit of annoyed confusion.
“Isaak did this to you. He infected you and he sent you back to your family a ticking time bomb. Look at me, Zoe. There’s nothing you could have done different. Nothing you could have changed. You couldn’t have stopped this. This isn’t your fault.”
It wasn’t her fault. And in the end, it wasn’t Isaak either. The carnage of this mistake was laid at his feet bloody and brutal.
The flashback hit him like a bus. The collision dragged him into the past kicking and screaming. It’s force so powerful he could taste the blood on his teeth.
Last Month
Conner had Isaak’s scent. He chased it around a sharp corner and was gone by the time Johnny got there. Mid-August humidity rode the air. Lightning chased the heavy clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance but not a drop of rain had fallen yet.
Johnny hated the city. He thought after being cooped up on the farm for years he wouldn’t be able to wait to see the world again. Boy was he mistaken.
The roar of traffic in the distance distracted him. The city lights were garish and bright, they left rings around his night vision, made the shadows that much deeper. He trotted down the road in his lupine form, white fur with just the hint of grey tips at his shoulders and muzzle.
Laughter snapped his head to the right. Two women, well, more like girls maybe a few years younger than him came spilling out of a fenced-in yard. He let them create some distance. Johnny didn’t want to scare them. At least that’s what he told himself. The truth was they smelled good and confidence in his control was something he only pretended at for Abel’s benefit.
After a few blocks, they said they’re goodbyes, hugged and one of them broke off. He didn’t know her name that night. But he did now.
Zoe took a moment to put in earbuds before she continued on the same path. Her clothes were bright. Tight red jeans with black stripes and a red t-shirt with some black and white design emblazoned on the front.
Curious about her he foolishly closed the gap to get a better look. In hindsight, it wasn’t enough. Had he the courage to get closer maybe he could have saved her from all this. If only was sort of the defining descriptor of Johnny’s entire life.
He’d never seen anyone that beautiful. She was happy. Bopping her head and singing along to the music booming in her ears. He spent the ten-minute walk fantasizing about another life, one in which he could have asked her out. Gone dancing. Scenes of them falling into bed together. Her laughing at corny jokes on a happy anniversary. It was a wonderful fiction.
She stopped suddenly. Even took a few steps back. Her back hunched and shoulders fearful, she shrank away from the massive wolf coming toward her. A wash of wiry red fur and black eyes the monster moved with supernatural grace. The wolf glided forward. A growl escaped his black lips.
“Nice doggy.” The fear in her voice radiated all the way down the road.
“What happened?” Zoe asked. Her question yanked him from his memory. “How? How did he infect me?”
“You don’t remember it?” Johnny whispered in disbelief.
Zoe shook her head. “No,” she sobbed.
He wanted to tell her. Come clean and beg her forgiveness. He really did. Johnny swallowed past his choice. It threatened to choke him. His mouth dropped open and the words balanced on his tongue were weighted with his fantasy of what happened where he remained blameless. Johnny wasn’t exactly proud of it but he said them all the same.
“Conner and I split up. We thought we’d cover more ground that way. I heard you scream from a block away. By the time I got there, Isaak’s beast stood over you. I jumped him from behind. We fought. You were caught in the middle.”
Zoe’s eyes widened. Images strobed in her mind. Remembered sounds played so much louder to her ear. Snarls and growling, metal crumpled, a car door caved in with the shadowy monsters who careened into its side. Two huge dogs ripped at each other. She fell onto her back clutching her bloodied arm. It was nothing more than a rush of details swirling among a feeling of dread.
“Wait… that wasn’t a nightmare?” Zoe intruded on the relating of his flashback.
Johnny shook his head, hesitating. “Afraid not.”
“He bit you. I couldn’t stop it. I’m sorry, Zoe.”
His contrition was more than genuine.
She sniffed, blinking wide eyes at the blank wall. “You’re the guy of my dreams,” she mumbled.
He cocked a brow in confusion.
“What am I supposed to do now?” she asked. “I’m an out of control Jeffry Dahmer impersonator. A monster.”
The compassionate expression he wore crumbled into hurt and Zoe immediately regretted her words. The kind of shame radiating from him had a familiar taste.
“Jeffrey Dahmer ain’t got nothing on us,” he quipped but his heart ju
st wasn’t in it. Johnny sighed. “Abel says we hunt the Lunatics down out of kindness. Until you, I never believed him.”
“Are they going to kill me?”
His mouth dropped open, but nothing that rushed to his lips was good enough. “I will teach you to control it.”
“How?” Zoe cried. She threw her hands into the air, falling victim to despair.
“Meditation. Discipline. It can be done. I promise.”
It could. What had him worried wasn’t the possibility. It was the timetable. It took him nearly a decade to get the beast under his boot. She had less than a month. He cursed Nora for trying to get ahead of this. For trying to keep up appearances with the clan. They should have kept Zoe a secret. No one believed them about what Isaak was doing anyway.
Zoe’s shoulders shook. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. She leaned forward and Johnny wrapped his arm around her. He closed her in his embrace and rocked her back and forth cooing to her.
“It’s going to be all right, I promise. We’ll figure it out. I won’t let them hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Johnny rested his cheek against her coal-black hair wondering how he would stop them. The answer, “Any way he had to,” kept ringing in his head.
23
Chapter
Deklan sighed. His frustration rang over the line. “Why won’t you tell me where you are?”
“It’s… complicated,” Izobel said unable to come up with a better explanation than that.
She could feel his frown through the phone.
“We need to talk,” Deklan demanded.
“About what?”
“Damn it, Izobel, you run out of my place half-naked and disappear for nearly a week. What do you think I want to talk about?”
Abel stood by. He flashed her a mocking look. “You didn’t say he was your boyfriend.” Abel chimed.
“Who’s that?” Deklan heard a decidedly masculine voice and covetousness rode him.
Aching Silver (House of Wolves Book 1) Page 7
