Pact of the Pack

by Deidre Huesmann

  Holden stared in uncomprehending disbelief.

  Rachael exhaled slowly as her enemy sagged lifelessly in Aaron’s grip. Something horrible stirred inside: a sensation of calm satisfaction. After Lacey’s attempts on her life, it was difficult to feel sorry for her sudden passing.

  Is this the difference between lycans and humans? she wondered distantly.

  But Rachael did cringe when Aaron shoved the body without care toward his former charge. Lacey flopped gruesomely at Holden’s feet.

  “An eye for an eye. A needless death for a needless death,” said Aaron with startling lack of emotion. “Consider us even for Vera.”

  Oddly enough, Holden had nothing to say. He just stared at Lacey in mute shock.

  Rachael bristled at her boyfriend’s words. He dared to call it even? Vera had been utterly innocent of all wrongdoing. Who could possibly say the same for Lacey?

  Rachael vehemently disagreed, but she kept her mouth shut.

  Contemptuously, Aaron said, “Mourn your loss, Holden. Stay in Nevada or move; I do not care. But whatever you choose, this had best be the last time I lay eyes on you. This is the third member of your pack you have lost since pursuing my death and I will—not—stop.”

  He motioned for Eva to release him, and she reluctantly complied. Rachael leaned against the wall in an attempt not to show how weak she felt.

  She was bothered by this. Why was Aaron letting him go—again? This was the third time he had a perfect opportunity, and the third time he’d wasted it. Not that she was eager to see Holden die; not like with Lacey. A small stab of guilt pierced her gut when she imagined her first love cold and lifeless.

  But her desires didn’t answer Aaron’s motives, so she was left with numerous questions.

  Aaron turned only his head, meeting Rachael’s gaze. She still couldn’t read him. Then he looked to Jackson. “We shall need to get rid of the body,” he began.

  That was when Holden snapped.

  Without a sound he charged Aaron, tackling him to the floor. Rachael’s entire body froze at first, and then a wash of protectiveness thawed her muscles. She went after Holden, shouting as she tried to shove him off.

  But he swatted her back as though she were a stuffed toy. Rachael tried to go at him again. This time Holden reached inside his jacket, swinging out with a familiar blade.

  Rachael instinctively flinched, but was unable to avoid a sharp cut as she raised her arms defensively. Still she somehow managed to grab Holden’s wrist and tried to twist. He snarled and shoved her back, dropping the knife as she toppled. Desperate, Rachael snagged the hilt of the blade.

  Holden didn’t even seem to notice. He turned back to Aaron. The man snarled and his hand shot out, tightening around Holden’s throat. Bones crackled as Holden began to shift under Aaron’s grip.

  But Aaron’s pack did not remain still. The kids crowded closer to Owen, while Eva and Jackson jumped into the brawl to help. Rachael removed herself from the chaotic scuffle, snagging the blade as she went. She had to protect Aaron somehow, even if only by removing one deadly weapon.

  Rachael was painfully aware this had become out of her league.

  It wasn’t pretty, but soon Holden was knocked down to his stomach, Jackson pinning him and Eva with her foot on his neck. Holden struggled ineffectively, stuck in mid-shift as he seemed unsure which way to go.

  Aaron picked himself up, cold smugness etched into his dark features.

  “That,” he said softly, looking to no one, “is how a pack should work. Good job, all of you.”

  The pack each silently expressed their thanks. Rachael at last allowed herself to sink to the floor, curling her legs up exhaustedly and resting her chin on her knee. Her body begged for sleep, but she couldn’t afford to turn her back for even a moment, it seemed.

  “Take our guests out,” said Aaron mutedly. “Ensure they leave with their dead weight.” He gestured dismissively at Lacey’s body.

  Jackson and Eva both looked to him with questioning. But while Eva moved to comply, Jackson protested, “Boss, we have him. Finish it already.”

  Even from her position, Rachael could see the deadened look in Holden’s eyes.

  Aaron’s jaw tensed. “Did I ask for your opinion? Take. Him. Outside.”

  A terrible moment went by, causing the tension in the room to throb. Then Eva turned to her husband and said firmly, “Do it.”

  Jackson grumbled but assisted his wife. As Rachael watched them leave, she saw Holden look back—at Lacey. A tumble of emotions poured from his face; grief, regret, agony. Then he faced forward again and allowed his captors to lead him outside. Owen followed shortly after with Seritta and Ana Sofia on his heels.

  The door shut and Rachael finally put her head down. Her body felt heavy and numb.

  Small hands came to rest on her arm. Rachael muttered something vague, but the presence didn’t leave. After a few moments another pair of hands touched her, guiding her to stand. She reluctantly followed, and then glanced down to see only one of Nathan’s eyes staring up at her.

  She shivered at the sight of blood and bandages over his left. Did she miss something? Was her time in the fade already starting?

  Before she could ask, Aaron said gently, “Go back to bed, Rachael.”

  “But Nathan....” God, she felt horrible; too weak to even argue.

  Aaron sensed it and looked to his brother. “You as well. I will be with you shortly.”

  Rachael closed her eyes. When she opened them again she was back in the room, her bed made, lying atop the cool covers. Confusion filtered in, but she was hardly interested in seeking answers just then. She rolled over on her side and went back to sleep.

  The next time Rachael woke and remembered it, she was a lycan.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Weeks passed between the last time they saw Holden and the day Rachael rose to the waking world once more. During those weeks, Aaron spent the majority of his time caring for his brother.

  It was where he needed to be—initially. But as Nathan’s eye healed (successfully, in that it was not an open wound, unsuccessfully in that it had been completely destroyed and he would never see out of it again) Aaron suspected more and more his brother was attempting to manipulate him.

  Whether he was or not, it was effective. Nathan never would have been hurt had Aaron been more vigilant. He was reminded of that every time he looked at the boy now.

  To be fair, Nathan did appear to be genuinely aggrieved. Aaron could only imagine how difficult it must be to adjust to life with one eye suddenly gone, particularly after more than two human lifetimes of having both.

  But his brother was also clingier. He barely spoke to anyone but Aaron, even when it visibly hurt Ana Sofia. At first, Aaron tolerated it.

  One night he’d had enough. He had begun to tuck Nathan into his makeshift bed; a cot padded with a thick comforter, along with a thin black blanket. They mildly conversing about nonsense. Then Nathan brought up his desire to start school again.

  Firmly, Aaron said, “School will have to wait. Between your injury and Rachael’s upcoming adjustment to lycan life, it will not be wise to settle in any one town.”

  Nathan scowled up at him and rested one hand behind his head. “I thought we were gettin’ me a glass eye so people don’t stare as much.”

  “We are. Eventually.”

  “When’s that?”

  Aaron sighed and folded his arms over his chest as he drew upright. “When it is wise to do so.”

  Nathan pouted and rolled over on his side. “That’s not fair. I can’t even go outside without someone starin’ but you guys can do whatever you want.”

  “You all,” corrected Aaron.

  With a huff, Nathan mumbled, “Whatever.”

  Weary of the attitude, but not in the mood for a long talk or an argument, Aaron simply said, “We can talk about it more in the morning.”

  “Mm—hmm.”

  The sulking whine in his consonants made Aaron want to
twitch. Instead he glanced over his shoulder to check on Ana Sofia. She lay atop an unzipped sleeping bag, pastel green sheets drawn up below her elbows. In spite of their conversation she remained asleep, though her brow drew together over her eyes.

  Aaron crept closer to the little girl and pulled the sheet higher over her body. It was reasonably warm in the house, but Ana Sofia seemed to sleep better when fully covered. Soon after the blanket settled the lines in her face relaxed a bit.

  Before he could say goodnight to his brother, a slight sound caught his attention. Aaron looked critically to the door and waited.

  Then it happened again. A rustling noise came from another room—his room. The one he had hardly been in since Nathan’s rescue.

  Aaron murmured goodnight to his brother, but Nathan sat up and said, “Aaron, wait!”

  “Go to sleep, Nathan,” he said, hardly pausing in his stride.

  “No. I need you in here,” protested the boy.

  Aaron stopped near the door, looking back at his brother in disbelief. “You are not a baby, Nathan.”

  Stubbornly setting his jaw, Nathan replied, “I just want my brother.”

  The guilt those words set off was nearly crippling. Somehow Aaron managed to stand his ground. He put one hand on the doorknob, preparing to close it behind him. “Good night.”

  “Stop ignoring me!”

  More rustling, this time from Ana Sofia’s bed. The little girl blinked tiredly across the room. “¿Qué pasa?”

  Nathan whipped his head to better glare at her through his good eye. “Cállate y duérmete.” Ana Sofia was definitely awake after that. She ducked her head beneath her sheets and began to sniffle.

  Aaron narrowed his eyes and strode back to his brother. Just as Nathan turned to face him again, Aaron leaned down and cuffed him on the ear.

  With a cry more of surprise than pain, Nathan doubled over and clutched his head. Aaron exhaled forcefully and snapped, “There is no excuse for unnecessary rudeness. Apologize.”

  Nathan cringed but said sullenly, “No. She was bein’ annoying.”

  He damn near exploded right there. Aaron scoffed and went to Ana Sofia’s side. Movement from his room reached him, and he desperately wanted to go check. Instead he pulled aside the sheet to reveal Ana Sofia crying in near silence. “Lo siento, Ana Sofia.” She mumbled incoherently, but nodded. “Would you prefer to sleep elsewhere?”

  She nodded pathetically. Determined not to reward his brother’s behavior, Aaron helped her to her feet, gathered her meager bed into his arms, and headed for the door.

  Once again, Nathan protested. “I don’t wanna be alone! Aaron!”

  He didn’t stop until the door nearly shut behind him. Then Aaron fixed the boy with an impassive stare, doing his best not to react to Nathan’s actions: wringing his hands, biting his lip, fidgeting in his spot while begging silently with his one good eye.

  “When you can apologize to Ana Sofia, you shall no longer be forced to sleep alone,” said Aaron flatly. “Until then, enjoy your personal quarters.”

  Then he firmly shut the door, taking care to lock it from the outside. He heard Nathan thrash as though throwing a tantrum, but otherwise no sound emitted from the room.

  Fine. At least he was quiet.

  Irritably, Aaron opened the door to Seritta and Rudy’s room. The other girl lounged on a twin-sized mattress with the baby asleep atop her belly. Or rather, the cub; Rudy was currently in wolf form.

  “Ana Sofia needs a new space to sleep,” said Aaron curtly.

  Seritta cocked her head, but nodded. “Can she be quiet?”

  Exasperated, Ana Sofia replied, “She speak some English. Quiet. Tranquilo.”

  Her mouth twitching in vague amusement, Seritta said softly, “Gotcha.”

  Relieved that was one argument he wouldn’t have to take part in, Aaron helped Ana Sofia get settled in the opposite corner. This room was smaller since Seritta and the baby didn’t need too much space, but it didn’t appear as though either of the girls minded the extra company. As Aaron headed out to give them privacy, he considered enacting a permanent change in sleeping arrangements depending on how the night went.

  But then he walked into his room and all thoughts of the children vanished. He ensured privacy before sitting upon the bed. Aaron reached out to touch the slumbering form’s shoulder. A hand shot out and clamped down on his arm with slightly more than human strength, sharp nails digging into his skin.

  Aaron met the situation with some of his remaining calm. “Good evening, Rachael.”

  She rolled over to look at him. For the first time, Aaron saw the tried and true hint of her new lycan nature—the gold flecks that sparked, bringing the grey irises around them into a sheen of silver. In his many years as a lycan, Aaron had never been so captivated by a pup’s eyes.

  Of course, he’d never had a pup for a girlfriend, either.

  Hoarsely, she said, “You smell different. I didn’t know it was you.”

  Aaron nodded, searching her expression for any hints of something being “off.” For the next several months, Rachael was going to go in and out of the fade. She would lose time and memories. It would not be pleasant, but so long as Aaron was vigilant, he could lessen the damage.

  “Your sense of smell is keener,” he explained. “Your sight will also be better as a human, but lose color as a lycan. Your blood will run hot now.”

  She made a vague sound, though it wasn’t dismissive. They had discussed these things well before her untimely infection.

  Aaron disengaged her hand from his arm. She looked down in surprise, as though she’d forgotten she still had him in an iron grip. And, he thought with grim amusement, she probably had. Short-term memory loss was almost as unpleasant as the fade.

  Then she frowned, turning her arm over. A small, thin red scar drew a sharp line along her flesh where Holden had cut her. She had managed to heal, but it would be a couple more weeks before the scar faded to white.

  Quietly probing, Aaron said, “Tell me how you feel.” When she opened her mouth immediately, he added, “Close your eyes. Sense everything inside first. Then tell me how your body is reacting.”

  Rachael sighed in annoyance. “Can’t I get a shower first? I feel gross.”

  Aaron felt disapproval carve into his expression. “No.”

  Frustrated, she sat up and scooted so her back was flush with the wall. Rachael’s eyelashes brushed her cheeks, and she went completely still and silent.

  Aaron waited patiently.

  After a couple minutes, she muttered, “I feel... a lot. Um... I guess stronger. Really thirsty. Hungry, but it’s different somehow. I....” Her voice trailed off, and her cheeks reddened. She opened her eyes and admitted sheepishly, “I’m really horny.”

  Unable to hold back a dry chuckle, Aaron said, “Unfortunately, that will have to wait until we are housed in better conditions.”

  Her eyes dimmed with disappointment but she nodded her assent.

  She appeared to be well on the road to full recovery. Aaron said, “If you wish to shower, please do so quietly. Nearly everyone else is in bed.”

  Gratitude shone through her smile. Rachael started to scoot to the side of the mattress, but Aaron stopped her with a touch to her arm. He leaned forward but, to his surprise, she pulled away.

  She must have read hurt in his expression, because Rachael said quickly, “It’s not that. I just... I really need to shower. I’m disgusting, I haven’t had a good bath in I don’t even know how long, and you’re so—so together and clean, and I just can’t—”

  Exasperated, Aaron pressed a finger to her lips. She clamped them shut in embarrassment.

  As gently as possible, he said, “You are alive. Your age and enemies fought to take you down, but against those odds you pulled through.” He lowered his hand to take hers, never breaking her gaze. “I am selfishly grateful to an unreasonable degree. That you are with me is all I care about.”

  Rachael looked ready to melt. Sh
e leaned forward, and that was all the permission Aaron needed to tangle his fingers in her hair and pull her close. The kiss was close-mouthed but long and sweet.

  When she pulled away, her eyes slowly opened. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Aaron’s mouth curved slightly. “Take your time.”

  She hurriedly grabbed a change of clothes from the small bag they had brought from the Reno hotel. Once Rachael was in the hall, Aaron busied himself changing the sheets. It would do her good to sleep in something clean, he thought absently.

  Partway through his work, Aaron heard the bedroom door creak. He didn’t look up; the scent was familiar. In a detached voice he said, “Go back to bed, Nathan.” That his brother had subverted the lock was annoying, but also impressive. Aaron decided not to mention anything about it for the time being.

  Resolutely, Nathan said, “I don’t wanna sleep alone.”

  Aaron folded the old bedding, only turning when he needed past his brother to get to the laundry area. Nathan followed in his footsteps.

  After Aaron dumped the sheets in the washer, he glanced back to see Nathan staring hard at the bathroom door. Sharply, Aaron said, “Do not even think of it.”

  One dark eye glared back at him. Nathan stormed up, his movements almost comical in his smaller body.

  “Why’d you let Holden live?” he demanded. “You know he’s gonna come back for her. If you really loved Miss Rachael, you wouldn’t’ve let him go.”

  His brother was treading feeble ground. Aaron set his jaw and turned on the washer so it would muffle their speech.

  Aloud, but in a low voice, Aaron said, “Holden has now had three pack members perish. He may have gained more, but he lost those closest to him. If he does attempt another attack, it will not be for a very long time.”

  “He shouldn’t be at all,” argued Nathan. “He should be dead.”

  Icily, Aaron retorted, “So should Jackson, thanks to your trickery.”

  Nathan’s ears reddened as he apparently recalled his deception back in Keeton. “I wouldn’t’ve let him die.”