The Trouble with Beasts (Howl for the Damned: Book One)

by D. Fischer

  “You didn’t see the connection, did you?”

  I flex my jaw. “No.”

  “Wonderful. Do you believe me now?”

  “Why would the Bane be after Jinx?” Cinder asks, his expression pinched at the weight of the question. He still looks at Jinx. She refuses to acknowledge him standing there.

  “We’ve all heard the rumors,” Amelia says, crossing her arms. “If they’re after Jinx, she has something they want. Perhaps something they need. They could have even been hired.”

  “So they are really trying to kill me,” Jinx whispers. Backing up, she plops onto a bench, dazed. “Is it because of what I am?”

  I shake my head, bending to her level. “I don’t think so. How could they possibly know? You killing them off – it’s only angering them. That’s why they keep sending more with larger parties.”

  “Do you know what they want?” Trevor and Travis ask at the same time. Jinx shakes her head then blinks at the twins. I doubt she’s been introduced to them. I quickly make introductions, and when I get to Damien, he snarls at her. I give him a warning look.

  “We have to keep her safe,” Cinder mumbles.

  “We aren’t keeping this thing safe,” Damien barks. “Having her here will endanger the pack. Not only have we most likely pissed off the witches, we’ve kidnapped a being we know nothing about nor the magic she wields. Now a mercenary pack is after her for hell knows why.”

  I growl low, a second warning to watch himself. “You want me to toss her to the streets?”

  “Yes,” Damien says, throwing up his arms.

  “I’d rather toss you to the streets,” Jinx says, slowly turning her head to look at him.

  “Absolutely not,” Amelia says to Damien with a slap to his arm. “She needs help, in more ways than one. I won’t let your prejudices against witches cause this woman any suffering. I believe Cinder. She’s harmless.”

  Jinx glares at Cinder, and something passes between the two. Nonverbal accusations on Jinx’s part, and apologetic twitches on Cinder’s.

  “She’s staying,” I say, my voice carrying an alpha’s orders. “I’ll hear no more about it.”

  Rubbing her temple, Jinx meets my gaze. “So I’m no longer a hostage. I’m a charity case.”

  I scowl. “Do you ever know when to keep your mouth shut and be grateful?”

  Her hand slaps back to her knee. “Excuse me for not being grateful for this entire situation. Give me a second to adjust my expectations.”

  We hold each other’s stare, one stubborn man to one stubborn woman. My wolf watches her just as closely through my own eyes, and damn him. His adoration toward this spitfire only increases. And here I am, wondering how I can bring her to heel. To help her see things my way, because I know if I gave her the choice, she’d hunt down the Bane Pack one by one, chopping the snake bit by bit, from the tail to the head of the monster.

  In her anger, her unique scent increases. Wafts even, ridding the immediate space of the salty tang of sweat. I blink at it then angle away from the luring aroma.

  “What’s the plan?” Rex asks, skillfully changing the subject.

  “We’re going to find out what they want,” I say. “Jinx will stay in the compound where we can keep an eye on her. She is not to leave unless escorted by at least three members of the pack.”

  She glares at me as I continue my orders about what she can and can’t do. Each order sparks more fury, and I have to admit, it sends a thrill inside me. She’s a fiery one. Fierce. Used to taking care of herself. It’ll be an adjustment for all of us, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to some satisfaction at rattling this tiny woman.

  She . . . she reminds me of Allie. Different in features but alike in spirit. It dampens my joy for the verbal sparring match, and I further distance myself from her.

  Jinx Whitethorn

  Having snatched the binder from my hand without another word, Jacob and Rex left the gym. Something had crossed over Jacob’s face that I had momentarily speculated on. Something sad. A pit of sorrow. He had left before I could examine it more thoroughly, however.

  I glare at the door as it swings closed, and leaning against the machine adjacent to the bench I sit on, I smirk maliciously at the guy with the black eye. He’s exactly where I left him.

  Damien returns my hatred, his top lip curled in obvious distaste, and his eyes have a hint of a glow of the wolf within.

  “Problem?” I ask him softly.

  Amelia grimaces at my provoking attitude and steps in to avoid whatever disaster she believes will result. Probably another black eye as promised. This guy has a serious problem with witches, but in case he hasn’t been paying attention, I have half a mind to remind him that I’m not one.

  “Damien,” she calls to him. “Can I talk to you for a moment? Outside?”

  She tugs on his arm when he doesn’t budge, and eventually, they both leave the gym. My tour is effectively over, and the last of the room’s tension drains with the whoosh of the closing door. I sigh in relief and tug at the end of my braided hair.

  Cinder rubs at his jaw, studying me from under long eyelashes. The fine hairs are darker than the blond ones on his head, and I watch him as warily as he watches me.

  “Eventually, you have to forgive me,” he finally says.

  Travis and Trevor, the two twin shifters, silently watch the transaction. They’re as quiet as shadows and probably move like them too. Slithery. Forgotten. An afterthought. Just the way they want it, I imagine; to be underestimated. It’s a goal I can admire, and I pay them no mind while I stare down the man who can’t keep his mouth shut. Whatever Cinder and I say to one another will get around the pack’s gossip chain as fast as a wildfire in a dry hayfield. There’s truly no point in privacy.

  I cross my arms, staring unblinking at him.

  “You know I can’t ignore my alpha’s orders. I watched your reaction when he just gave the last one. You stiffened from the weight of it too. You felt it. Imagine being part of the pack where the alpha’s decree is law. Nature’s law, and not a law made by loyalty.” He sighs deeply. “He asked, Jinx. They thought you were a murderer. I had to tell them you weren’t, and I had to give them some sort of proof to back it up.”

  “But I am,” I say, my voice rough. I sound like I haven’t spoken in days. “I am a murderer.”

  Travis and Trevor glance to one another, expressions blank.

  “You and I both know you had no choice,” Cinder whispers. I look away from him and to the mat cushioning my feet. “In time, you’ll come to accept that. Just as I hope you understand that I tried to balance my desire to defend a friend and my duty to be loyal to my pack.

  Automatically, my hand reaches to touch the wolf in my pocket. Again, my mother’s words ring back to me. Again, they strike something in my heart, breaking down a new layer of what I’d built to protect my heart from rejection after rejection. My mother and father chose to keep their desires secret, and it resulted in me. Is it possible that Cinder’s choice isn’t much different?

  A door clicks shut, and I whip my head to see who entered. But no one entered. Cinder had left without another word. I stare at the space he once occupied, feeling his lingering presence. A part of me longs to go to him. To accept his apology and his truth. Another part of me, the part that’s still fighting the logic of me being here and the sting of continual rejection, refuses.

  One of the twins whistles low. “You can really clear a room,” Trevor says. They’re nearly identical except for one mole at the edge of Trevor’s jaw. I had noticed it immediately when we were introduced, my brain trying to detect some way of telling them apart.

  “It’s a talent, I assure you,” I say, sniffing.

  Puckering his lips, Trevor strides slowly to me and claps me on the shoulder. “Old alphas would have killed you once they had you in their hands. Jacob’s father would have. Without batting an eye. Your own ancestors would have, too.”

  “Is that supposed to comfort me?”


  He shakes his head. “Not at all. It’s merely a reminder of the courtesy you’ve been given, especially by a species that was once a witch’s enemy. He,” he says, nodding toward the door, gesturing after Cinder’s departure, “has already given you a chance not many of our kind would give. In fact, he’s gone further and called you a friend. He’s gone to bat for you.”

  With that, both twins pad across the mat. Softening Trevor’s words, Travis winks at me from over his shoulder, and then they leave me to my own thoughts and my reflection gleaming off every shining surface.

  Later that night, I dream of the wolf again. This time, I am a bystander, watching the wolf watch itself in the reflection of water. The white wolf is as still as a statue, fur ruffling in the breeze. And then, the beast yelps after a sickening thud fills the serene quiet of the forest. Blood blossoms around the arrow embedded in the wolf’s ribs. The wolf turns, looks at me, and falls to the ground. I wake soon after to a knock at my door and Amelia’s offer of fresh coffee.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Jacob Trent

  Binder in hand, I slowly take my time walking up the steps to my office. I have calls to make, knowledge to reveal, and I’m not looking forward to a single call.

  Rex had been as speechless as I was, but instead of following me up the stairs, he veered off to the kitchen for lasagna leftovers.

  For the life of me, I can’t figure out how Jinx managed to kill these wolves. I wish I could have seen it. Seen what she is. How she does it. What she turns into. My imagination conjures a werewolf of horror fairy tales because the Bane are trained killers. They’re skilled at being unseen and highly trained to make it look like they were never there. It would take something nightmarish to take down two if rumors of this are indeed truth.

  That’s why it’s only ‘rumors’ and not total fact. They’re excellent at what they do. People never know they’re watching, and those who witness the aftermath of their destruction can only speculate. Those who the Bane hunt . . . well . . . They never return. In fact, most people that go missing when they’re rumored to be around are never found again.

  Mostly, I’ve heard they go after anyone but humans. Shifters, witches. Those who added that part to the rumor are idiots. Why would they subjugate the supernatural in favor of easier prey? Besides, now a skinwalker can be added to their list.

  How would they know what a skinwalker is when we just learned ourselves that they’re not a myth?

  Amelia had told me every morsel of information Jinx had given her during the tour. Mindspeech between an alpha and a member of the pack has its uses. My wolf reminds me with soft growls how invasive it was to Jinx’s privacy and confidence.

  Jinx has no idea who she is or how to control it. She’s lost, knowing little more than we do. The Bane can’t know more of Jinx’s secrets than Jinx does. But then, why do they target her? Does she have something they want? If she does, they’ll get it by any means necessary, and that’s something we need to be prepared for.

  Maybe we can figure out what they want and give it to them.

  Using voice command, I flip on my office light, and Jinx’s lingering scent caresses my senses. I inhale her unique aroma deeply, my wolf rumbling in content, before I realize what I’m doing. Though her scent is pleasant to me, I can’t begin some kind of infatuation with her, no matter how hard my wolf rides me to pursue his affections. I may enjoy our bantering, but that’s where it has to end. That’s the trouble with beasts. Can’t get too close for fear it’ll bite my hand as soon as I try to pet it.

  Striding to the couch, I flop down in it. The binder plops to the floor, and I sprawl my legs across the cushions, rubbing my eyes. I have a feeling I will regret bringing Jinx here.

  First, I call Evo and retell all the information we learned in such a short amount of time. Just like me, he’s impressed that Jinx took out as many as she did. Then, he promptly suggested he be on a conference call when I tackle my next duty: calling the Bane alpha.

  Now, both listening to the ringing tone, we wait for Wice to answer. We need answers. We need truths. We need to go straight to the man in question. Best case scenario, he knows nothing of this, and his wolves are acting on their own. Worst case, rumors are true, and he won’t tell us a thing.

  “Yeah,” Wice answers. I can tell he’s distracted as if answering the phone was an afterthought.

  “Wice? This is Alpha Jacob Trent and Alpha Evo Johnson,” I say loud and clear through the phone.

  Silence, then a low chuckle. “What can I do for you?”

  I rub the back of my neck and sit up on the couch. “We’ve run into a few of your wolves lately. They’re dead, I’m afraid, but by your tone, you already know that.”

  He says nothing, though I can hear a squeak of his chair as he adjusts his position.

  “What are your wolves doing in town, Wice,” Evo asks. All professionalism is gone in my friend’s tone, and I wince at the brashness of it.

  Wice says evenly – too evenly, “I wouldn’t know anything about that. You must be mistaken. All my wolves are accounted for.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that,” I murmur into the receiver. “What is it that you want?”

  “Right now, a cold ham sandwich.”

  “Cut the shit,” Evo barks. “What do you want with the girl?”

  I listen to the ticking clock somewhere in my compound as we wait for him to answer. “You have her, don’t you?” Wice asks, and my blood chills. The way he said it, the purr to his voice, doesn’t settle well with me.

  “The question is,” Wice continues in the same tone, “Which one of you has her?”

  “You won’t get her,” I growl. “Whatever you want from the girl, put it out of your mind.”

  “Jacob, then,” he says, thinking out loud. “Thanks for the tip.”

  “Wice!” I bark, but it’s too late. He’s gone. I sit up on the couch and curse a stream of words that would have made my father backhand me across the face.

  “Why do I get the feeling we just gave him exactly what he wanted?” Evo asks softly.

  I look toward the old leather book nestled on my shelf. “Because we did.” Getting up, I stride to the book and pluck it from its resting spot. “Look, Evo. I have to go. There’s something I need to do.”

  “Yeah,” he sighs. “And Jacob?”

  “Hmm?” I roughly sit in my office chair, placing the book on my desk.

  “Add more patrol. Keep your wolves close.”

  “Yeah.” I hang up, and carefully leafing the cover, I flip it over. It’s time to get some answers, and if Jinx can’t give them to me, then I need to find out more on my own. It’s not about desires for privacy anymore. It’s about safety. It’s about sanity. And damn it all, it’s about keeping her alive.

  Jinx Whitethorn

  The sun sets over the horizon the next day. I suppose it does that every day, but I’ve never really cared to watch. Something about being here puts me in touch with nature in a way coven life never has. It’s more primal than it is necessary.

  It’s beautiful, full of smeared clouds highlighted in buttery yellow, bright pinks, and sherbet oranges. I sit on a hill, watching the wolves dip in and out of the forest, chasing one another.

  Most of the pack is home, though I balked at the idea of being introduced to the other members that weren’t around yesterday. Amelia said most were at their jobs, and it makes me wonder why they aren’t today. What changed?

  I sigh. It doesn’t matter. Most of them had sneered in my direction anyway even after they’d been told what I am and the reasoning for me sticking around.

  I stopped considering escape somewhere around lunch. Glenda and Amelia took me under their wing with a hovering Cinder, and somehow, I felt safer here than I have ever felt on my own or at the coven.

  It would be so easy to escape with everyone else’s attention on the wolf chase. It would be foolish, though. Damn foolish. I can’t go home – the Bane Pack knows where I live. I can’t go to the cove
n. They’ve probably ordered my banishment by now. I have nowhere else to go but exactly where I am, stuck in a pack where I’m neither their kin nor their enemy but something in between. That’s better than nothing. At least, for now.

  I hug my knees closer to myself and pucker my lips. I feel defeated for the first time in a long time.

  All my life, I’ve lived around witches. I know the ins and outs of that heritage, even if I can’t do a single spell myself. Perhaps it’ll be good for me to be around wolves – the form my skinwalker self takes on. With them, I might be able to learn to skinwalk at will. Or shift. Or whatever I do that bursts into light, changing from my body to a wolf’s. I might even learn to control the conscious part of it. Then, I can go back to not needing anyone.

  The skinwalking part of me has only ever lived in fear, though. I have a feeling that here, I can learn to do it in a safe environment. Plus, I have the added bonus of Amelia’s word to make sure I learn to control it. She had reassured me that when wolves change – as toddlers, she said – it’s a struggle to manage it too.

  Soft footfalls sound against the grass behind me, and I look, watching as Jacob makes his way to me over the soft bumps in the hill. The compound looms behind him, reflecting the sunset back at us.

  He sits next to me with an oof. “How are you holding up?” he asks.

  “About as good as you’d expect.” Silence falls for several heartbeats, and once I open my mouth, everything comes pouring out. “I’ve had no time to adjust. Even knowing people were trying to kill me, I hadn’t expected that I might be any different from a witch who can’t do magic. Sick, actually. I thought I was sick and dying. And now, I’m here where half of the tenants want nothing to do with me.”

  He shifts himself partly toward me. “You can do magic.”

  I touch both tips of my index fingers together. “Heritage met in the middle, remember? Magic beest unknown.”

  A look of understanding smooths his face, and he nods. I expect him to say, ‘We’ll figure it out,’ but he says no such thing. I don’t know if I’m hurt by the absent reassurance or touched by not being lied to for simple condoling.