Aching Silver (House of Wolves Book 1)

by Amber Naralim

  “Yup, here it is.” She handed the opened scroll across to him. “It’s already transcribed. I could make you a copy.”

  Michael scanned it. A visitation request. It was denied. Still. This was real enough to make a formal request. Nora was going for a kill shot on the old man. He didn’t think she had the balls… as it were. This was what he’d been worried about for the past year. The fatal flaw Isaak had been building into his plans.

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” he covered.

  Down the hall, he took another bite of his apple chewing thoughtfully. Michael weighed his options. Only so many moves left to him, he had to choose well.

  He took the stairs two at time. Michael slowed near the landing. An ominous whistle proceeded Mathew Ellis coming down the hall. The man-made Michael’s skin crawl. Still, he had his uses.

  “Ah, Ellis, there you are. I’d wondered if you’d heard anything about Nora going on another incursion to find Alexander?”

  The freak kept better tabs on Nora than all the spies they had embedded in the clan. If Mathew Ellis didn’t know, he would find out. His moves were a little easier to follow across the board. And if somehow he were to finally slip over the edge not only did it kill one bird, it put the other on death row. Better yet, it couldn’t be traced back to Michael.

  “I’d hurry along to see if Abel will be behind her,” he commanded.

  When you lack precision, chaos worked just fine. He smirked as Ellis stomped down the hall. If not useful, the ripples that created should definitely be interesting. Michael walked away humming. He composed his report to Isaak peppering in macabre details for how they found her body. With Nora away from the Old Man’s ear, he had carte blank to the kingdom. Her blocks and redirects had grown quite vexing of late. Not to mention tiresome. It was time Isaak cut the cord to his old life.

  The only way they were going home was when they took it.

  The sooner all of them came to grips with what that meant the easier this would be. A clean-cut was the best they could hope for. Every moment he spent entrenched in this clan, the more he wanted that slice to be bloody.

  He had just a tiny soft spot for Abel Merrick. Michael wanted to be him once. He’d never know the acceptance of being one of the Kin, but he played it well enough to get by. He’d watched the elders of this clan and his crumble the pillars of past glories to dust. All the while dismissing him for the crime of being born folk.

  It was time for a change.

  Fate is a fickle thing when you let her make the rules. Michael simply got tired of waiting for her. A string here, a favor there, life was all about leverage. It was easy enough to get what you want out of it. And sometimes that requires sacrifice.

  It was the decibel at which his contempt accused that drove the way he danced around such a challenging piece as Abel Merrick. Make no mistake. You’ll never truly be able to control anyone. What you can do is study every path that piece can take and be prepared to act.

  Pity he was in Michael’s way, but Abel Merrick was Nora Worthingting’s favorite piece. This would be a harsh lesson in not leaving yourself exposed. Alas, we all must learn. Michael checked his watch and circled back around to the office of the head secretary. Door, closed and locked.

  With a glance to be sure he was alone he produced a skeleton key from the depths of his pocket and used it to slip inside. He crossed to the sideboard choosing a file from the holder he made a note. He replaced it and pulled open the drawer on the desk. He retrieved a book from its recesses and unwrapped the ribbon enclosure. He flipped it open. His finger moved down the page until it reached the name Leanord Cloatsman. Michael took the paper from the folder attached to the date.

  He added the name Abel Merrick to the security detail chosen to protect the Table business for that night.

  40

  Chapter

  Izobel was in a foul mood. Her hair a mess of tangled waves half of it snaked down her neck swaths of the rest stuck out of from what could almost be considered a bun pushed far to the left side of her head. Her sweater slipped from one shoulder revealing her silk camisole and bell-bottomed leggings. Her teacup was cold and only half drank. Her eyes were puffy with deep circles below them.

  Dreams left her tossing and turning all night, barely able to catch more than an hour. The wolf kept looking at her. Amber eyes deep and soulful, it even took a step toward her then the crack of a gunshot went off and the beast ran.

  Her pockets were heavy with salt and lavender. Prime still bit at her fingertips the magic was so ripe. Izobel’s head ached with the promise of prophecy. Like a spike hammered into the top of her head. She vibrated to the sound of it rippling through dimensions.

  Izobel hated time and fate magic. She just didn’t have the knack Derrick did with it. Truth was she could barely get past the headaches it caused. Izobel liked to get her hands in there. She liked charms she could hold and shape. She enjoyed weaving them together to get subtle and beautiful effects. It was her craft. Her art.

  The best you could get with divination charms was deciphering what it meant correctly. You’d be surprised how many people get it wrong. Blurry sensations and cryptic messages from your subconscious and attributed to anything made the puzzle extra manic. She was always ready to jump. The idea of more than one path always threw her a little bit. Izobel was a two feet kind of girl.

  She spent so much time flowing with this one she rarely even noticed the other choices. The biggest lie she told herself was she was sure. Every word that came out of her mouth was another layer to give it weight.

  The kitchen was full. Izobel spent her time here in as small a footprint as she could manage. This was not her place. This was no one’s place if she wanted to cut hairs. And the scent that gave the air and taste it gave the water reminded her of that fact relentlessly.

  Johnny stood at the counter cutting vegetables, carrots and fennel littered the board. Two pots on the stove bubbled. Whatever it was it sure smelled good. He set the knife down and crossed to tend them. Abel swept into the room with a pressed button-down shirt in one hand. He moved into the few feet between Johnny and Izobel.

  Abel twisted a bit sidling past with only an inch or two of clearance. His eyebrows popped high, and he chomped down on his bottom lip. Izobel frowned and went around them to the kitchen sink on the other side. Abel searched the jars on the kitchen counter for something he was having a hard time finding. Finally, he pulled it free. Izobel dumped her cold tea into the sink.

  Threading a needle clumsily he stabbed it into the collar, paying close attention to the small tear. Abel rode a two hundred dollar shirt until the wheels fell off. He was still pissed about having to buy this one.

  “Are you going to be here for dinner?” Johnny asked.

  “I got guard duty tonight and tomorrow,” Abel answered.

  Izobel reached into her pocket. She stepped in front of Abel. He bit down on the string and gave her a questioning gaze. Izobel wiped salt across his lips and pressed her palm over his mouth. Her eyes closed, she chanted something. The granules heated to a pleasant warmth. Lavender sizzled and popped.

  Abel froze. Izobel’s eyes fluttered open. She formed her fingertips into a steeple then curled them and finally opened them wide. She nodded and turned to go back to her attic sanctuary. Zoe walked in behind her and went straight to the fridge.

  Abel wiped at his mouth, licking at his lips. She poured herself a bowl of cereal. Zoe shook her head.

  “She got you too?” Zoe asked.

  Abel’s questioning glance was her answer.

  “She wouldn’t let me take a shower without a protection spell today.” Zoe lifted her spoon. “She’s got that look though.”

  “What look?” Abel asked.

  “My Nanna called it the sight,” Zoe said around a mouthful of Lucky Charms. “Izzy gets the dreams. My mom had them I guess. But Izzy’s are like a hundred times more powerful,” she said with wide eyes. “Something about being a witch, I guess.”


  Abel turned his eyesight to the stairs, and then up at the ceiling.

  41

  Chapter

  Nora kept stealing glances at Izobel sitting on the passenger side. She had a book in her lap but paid more attention to the passing scenery. Rain drummed the roof of the rental car, a luxury SUV.

  Nora dressed well. She had a thing for vintage skirts and floral patterns, but it was all tasteful, expensive even. The girl was blessed with lux ringlets of a shade just a little lighter than gold. They spilled over her rounded shoulders and ample frame. Her gaze was appraising.

  Izobel spun toward her and dropped her head on one side. “You don’t think the head of your clan tried to have Abel killed.”

  “No. He couldn’t afford to if he wanted,” Nora mentioned with a tone.

  She’d spent the last few days chasing this thing all around the clan. She investigated all the families not just hers.

  Izobel shook her head. “We flew here on a private plane,” she accused.

  Nora looked at her and her first expression melted. “It’s a house of cards,” she admitted. “The six families are old money. Most can trace their fortunes back to medieval times, back when they used gold coins to trade. If I didn’t keep up the illusion it would show weakness and they would turn on my grandfather.”

  “How long do you think you can keep this up?” Izobel asked genuinely curious.

  What Nora was attempting here was far from easy. The business of king-making never is. Izobel just couldn’t see the end-game from the few puzzle pieces she’d glimpsed. She was looking for a crash course into the politics her little sister stepped in. Because make no mistake Izobel was here for as long as Zoe was.

  “If I could make the deals myself it would be fixed already. I need Alex. With him in place, I could pull us out of the dire straits my grandfather created.”

  She was about to offer the best of both worlds to her twin. He got to be king and didn’t have to rule. That’s all he’d ever wanted. She hoped it was enough to entice him into doing the right thing. But this was Alex they were talking about. Abel was right, Alex didn’t know what selfless was. His needs had to be met first.

  Nora flicked the blinker on and got over. Behind them a Honda Civic mirrored her. Nora didn’t notice much about it. She hit the cruise control. They had a long drive ahead of them.

  ***

  Mathew hit the gas. There was a bit of distance between them but nothing he couldn’t make up if he needed to. Abel wasn’t with her. Some dark-haired gash. She smelled human. Look at that, a bit of fun and a juicy snack. His excitement mounted like a wave.

  It was hard to say what about her caught his attention. Fragile and devious something about her made him nervous. Something about her dragged all his perversions to the surface begging for her. He found her fascinating. Folk or no she had the blood of kings in her tender veins and he wanted a taste.

  Nora was a tease. The day he saw her she all but presented, begging for it like the pretty, little bitch she is. Now, she wanted to play hard to get. He’d never met more resistance. That ended tonight. Who was she to deny him? He would teach Nora her place.

  She’d be begging him for more by morning.

  Mathew Ellis smiled at his reflection.

  42

  Chapter

  The street was long and narrow with rows of townhouses down both sides. Izobel pointed one out with two staircases divided down the center each facing two different degrees diagonally. The door was made of heavy oak with a rounded top and a bay window protruding from the face of the building just above it. Ivy climbed the bricks under the windows. It was blue. The townhouse next to it on the left was brown and on the other side white. The color was an exclamation in a sea of neutrals.

  Her apartment was on the third floor. Izobel unlocked the door and swept inside with Nora on her heels. She tossed the keys into a wooden bowl on the small table near the door. Nora had never seen so many plants. This was a jungle. Spiky fronds to climbing leaves they were perched and placed on every surface. The loft was one immense space with whitewashed brick walls, worn wood floors and a back wall of grid windows. Two of them were flipped open wide.

  “I need to grab some things. It’ll just take a minute or two,” Izobel said moving toward the bedroom.

  Nora wandered over to the bookcase. Izobel looked to be an avid reader. Nora’s eyebrows knit together and a smile spread across her face. She plucked a well-used paperback off the shelf. She never would have pegged Izobel for a romance girl. Nora wasn’t poking fun, she’d read this book twice. Just didn’t expect it from Izobel’s porcelain doll countenance.

  She wandered toward the kitchen. A scrap of paper caught her eye. She plucked it from the counter.

  “Hey, Izobel, a guy named Derrick left you a note.”

  Izobel folded a few shirts and stuffed them into a bag. A black ball of fluff leapt onto the bed and demanded her attention with purrs. Izobel greeted him with a smile and lifted him into her arms to give him the love he asked for.

  “What’s it say?” she called.

  “Hey, Bells,

  I watered your plants and I’ve been feeding your cat for a week. When are you coming home,

  Deklan,” Nora read aloud.

  She rounded the corner to the bedroom. The cat was a monster. A Mainecoone with black fur and a lion’s mane tipped in grey. His ears were pointy. His fur was thick. And his eyes glowed an unearthly green. He was a handsome animal that was for sure.

  “Valentine is more of a roommate.”

  Nora smiled at her joke and drifted her fingers through his soft fur. “Hello, Valentine,” she cooed. “You know being born with a form of Lycanthropy I always thought I should hate cats. Turns out the loyalty to the wolf aesthetic isn’t as hard-pressed in us.”

  Izobel laughed and let Nora take Valentine from her. She cuddled in close rubbing her face against his side. Izobel collected clothes and creature comforts she’d missed while staying at the farmhouse. Four duffel bags later she zipped up the final two full of her tools. You never realize how much you use stuff until you don’t have access to it for a while. She thought better of it and grabbed her mortar and pestle.

  She slipped into her jacket. “I’ll put these in the car and then we can go,” Izobel called heading out the door.

  ***

  Mathew Ellis stepped back into the shadows and watched the human jog down to the rental car. He moved toward the door anticipation pricking at his fingers. The imagined brush of her skin and the impending violence to come was like a bruise on his lips.

  He invited it, relished all of it. She stood in the living area facing the windows. There wasn’t much of a view, just more rooftops. Nora didn’t hear him enter. She didn’t see him close the distance between them.

  The cat did. He hissed alerting Nora. She spun around surprised.

  “Ellis?” Nora moved to put a physical object between them. “You followed me?”

  She couldn’t keep the horror out of her voice. It didn’t matter how fast her brain shifted into crisis mode. Calm. That was number one on her list. She needed to keep him calm. Though the consequences of his choices left him no peaceful escape from this situation. This was the time it ended bloody between them. Nora had been counting the days. His delusional obsession was about to peek.

  43

  Chapter

  Every time Izobel scanned the apartment she spotted something else she didn’t want to lose. It’s always so hard to let go. There was just no room. The only reason she took as much as she did was that Nora had access to a plane. She huffed out a breath coming to the top of the stairs. Pottery shattering spurred her through the door.

  Curiosity and surprise took a back seat to adrenalin. A man had Nora by her blond curls, her back razor straight and her eyes filled with terror and inevitability. Ellis was Kin. Nora brought a silver blade with her wherever she went. Abel insisted. But she left it in the car.

  The truth was Nora had never feared the kin. N
ot until now, that is. She always considered herself one of them. This man hammered the differences home. Preternatural strength, lightning reflexes, and super-healing were the least of her worries. She was painfully aware of how much damage he could do with a single claw. How sharp his teeth really were. His hand wrapped around her neck, she didn’t want to die torn apart and eaten.

  The heavy door swung closed behind Izobel. The click of the latch broke the spell. Izobel dove toward the table and the bowl of dried herbs on its surface. She snatched a handful and a rose quartz spike. There wasn’t much just for decoration in here. Izobel liked to have tools at hand.

  Ivy writhed at their feet among the shards of a shattered ceramic pot. Izobel’s fingers moved in complicated patterns. The magic came eagerly to her call. Ready to unleash cosmic power pent up within these walls. This fool didn’t know the mistake he made. Attacking a witch in her home is suicide.

  Magic builds up negligible as dust on a shelf. It’s also kind of like glitter. Sparkly, it catches the light dazzling and distracting you. Before long it’s coating your fingertips, tangled in your hair and glimmering on your clothes. A few flakes colonize your world, insidious and clinging.

  Unfortunately rarely does it work in a witch’s favor, and this time was no different. Preparation. Give her twenty minutes and the right ingredients she was unstoppable. Sadly, that combination was harder to come by than you might think. The good witches learn to think on their feet, and to use whatever they had within reach. Hence the beginning of Izobel’s unhealthy tendency to hoard objects.

  Vines slithered, moving like they had a mind of their own. Ellis hadn’t noticed. Nora couldn’t tear her eyes away. She waited for them to wrap around his ankle pulling tight. Nora lifted both arms high breaking his grip and pushing off of his chest. At the same time, the vines yanked in the opposite direction.