Never Cry Werewolf

by L. A. Banks

  Sasha whirled on Hunter and folded her arms over her chest, breathing hard. “Go ahead. Say it. You told me so. Said that I couldn’t live a double life—being a part of a Shadow Wolf pack and being a part of the human military. Just go ahead and get it out once and for all.”

  “First of all, I’m not the enemy.” Hunter looked at her, his eyes blazing. “I have no interest in saying those things to you, Sasha,” he added in a low, threatening tone through distended canines. “My only interest is with those who have injured you. Give me their names—starting with the colonel.”

  For a moment she didn’t move. Then, quickly realizing that her mate had gone into hunt-and-protect mode, she held out her arms in front of her. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—I was just metaphorically talking about ripping out the guy’s throat.”

  “And you know I don’t deal in metaphors, Sasha,” Hunter said in a low rumble. “Give me the bastard’s name, and I guarantee you he won’t ever disrespect the alpha mate of the North American Shadow Wolf Clan.”

  Perverse gratification flitted through her spirit for a moment, before logic overruled it. “Thank you,” she said, more calmly, now not nearly as enraged as she’d been. “But I can’t let you do that.”

  Hunter cocked his head to the side as though he’d heard her wrong. “Let?”

  Sasha rubbed the nape of her neck and then released a hard sigh. “You know what I mean.” She looked up at him. “I’m not the enemy.”

  “To be sure,” Hunter said, beginning to pace. “Nor am I about to stand by and allow your territory to be challenged! That is a matter of principle. What gives them the right to take your position?”

  “You understand hierarchy and rank, Hunter,” she said flatly. “That part is the same in both the wolf world and in the human military world.” Her true statement caused him to walk away from her, but she pressed on, feeling more defeated as she spoke. “They have much higher rank than I do and replaced me with someone they could trust, since I’m a hybrid . . . a being with one foot in the human world and one in the wolf world—all because Doc created me in a lab.” She blew out a weary sigh. “I’m probably not even defined as a human being. I wonder if I even have the same civil rights as the average citizen . . . and as long as I’m in uniform, most of that shit doesn’t apply anyway.”

  Hunter turned to look at her and pointed out toward the mist. “I don’t care about their stupid, short-sighted laws—you exist, therefore you are a being with inalienable rights. They summoned you down into the bowels of their military base, which to me is no different from one of our clan dens, and then set upon you like a ravenous pack! Then they replaced you under the command of a full-blooded human who knows nothing of our ways or those of the paranormal community! They have done what they have always done—broken a treaty, a covenant that would keep the peace between the nations . . . and yes, Sasha, this is like having a human diplomat who was well liked and well respected get replaced by a fool. You do realize that if the humans make a preemptive strike on the paranormal community, this is undoubtedly going to be war.”

  “I know,” she said quietly. She then closed her eyes as she let out a slow breath.

  “This time, they will not be able to just exterminate what they find. Genocide will not be allowed.”

  “I know,” she repeated, now staring at him.

  “As alpha clan leaders, we have to make the packs aware of the situation, as well as alert our allies.”

  Sasha just nodded, too weary at the prospect of what this could all mean to even speak.

  “I’ll alert my grandfather. Silver Hawk can carry the message throughout the region. I can also contact my brother, Shogun. However, we should both speak directly to Sir Rodney. If he’s still in the sidhe where human technology doesn’t work, then—”

  “I can’t leave the area, remember,” Sasha said flatly, and then turned to begin to walk deeper into the mist.

  “Then where are you going?” Hunter jogged to catch up to her.

  “To the bar to throw back a fifth of Jack Daniel’s with my very dejected squad.”

  Hunter grabbed Sasha’s arm. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he said quietly.

  “Like what?” she said, blowing out a hard breath and blinking back tears.

  “So angry that you’ve lost your drive to fight. You’re letting them win.”

  “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but they have won, Hunter.” She released a sad chuckle and then looked away from him. “I’ve been put out of my human pack. One botched mission and they turned on me.”

  “It wasn’t a botched mission,” he said, not letting go of her arm and forcing her with his voice to look at him. “It wasn’t,” he added more gently.

  “But that doesn’t matter now, does it?”

  “Yes, it does.” Hunter’s gaze searched her face. “It matters to the countless paranormal nationals who got saved. The humans aren’t the only ones that exist. Sasha . . . you are a head of state.”

  “In a secret world,” she said more quietly than intended. “An unrecognized, secret world—but to them, I’m just a grunt.”

  “Never, ever say that in front of me again,” he said in a low, firm murmur. “You are not a word I refuse to dignify by repeating. You are not a lab mistake. You are a North American Clan alpha she-Shadow.” Hunter lifted his chin and cupped her cheek with his palm. “You are majestic, Sasha Trudeau. You are a warrior and it is time for the wolf within to decide which pack she wants to belong to—theirs or ours . . . but that is always going to be your decision. I will wait, no matter what.”

  Deep conflict tore at her insides, and her mouth simply couldn’t form the words to tell him that she would abandon all she knew to go AWOL as a wolf. Just as her wolf was second nature, her military uniform was her second skin. Her entire adult life had been spent in the service of her country. It was all that she knew . . . then there was her team—her family. How could she leave them to fend for themselves in a system that would brutally interrogate them, ruin their careers, and possibly court-martial them for her defection? No one would ever believe they hadn’t known in advance or didn’t know where she’d fled. She’d have to do this by the books, not by primal instinct, and properly resign.

  Still, right now she just wanted to transform into her wolf and run wild and free in the unadulterated North Country.

  Hunter seemed to understand all of that without words; it was in his patient eyes as she closed the small gap between them and took his mouth. When his warm arms enfolded her, that’s when the silent tears fell in earnest, making their kiss wetter and saltier. And seeming to know that she needed a hug more than anything else right now, he pulled his mouth away from hers and simply enfolded her in his arms.

  The tenderness in his touch set off an avalanche of emotions within her—fury, frustration, doubt, panic . . . and the knowledge for the first time that she was really trapped in the existence she’d been manipulated into choosing. She clung to the strong mountain of muscle and bone and flesh that surrounded her and hid her face against his shoulder, refusing to sob, just breathing hard. It wasn’t fair—none of it was fair . . . but knowing that life was never fair still didn’t make the bitter truth go down any sweeter.

  “No matter what you choose, I will not leave you.” His promise came out in a firm tone against her hair as his embrace tightened around her.

  Sasha nodded and sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to compose herself. He had to go, had to warn the various supernatural communities to lay low while a cowboy colonel came to town.

  “I don’t want anybody to get hurt,” she said on a thick swallow. “No civilians . . . nobody from our side . . . and not even that asshole and his squad.” She pulled away from Hunter a bit to stare up at him. “He’s just following orders—hasn’t a clue. They pumped him up, filled his head with a lot of BS, and the old bastards who play these games aren’t on the front lines.”

  Her body relaxed when Hunter nodded. “The only thing I ever agreed with the
Vampires about was when they ripped off Wilkerson’s face. Maybe if the war went directly to the source more often, there’d be less war?”

  She nodded and blew out a breath, and then rested her forehead in the center of Hunter’s chest.

  “Are you going to be all right for a few hours . . . or do you want me to come with you to the Road Hawg?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, still talking to his stone-cut chest. “Thanks for letting me get it all out.”

  “It’s not out,” he said, gently brushing the crown of her head with his lips. “Not by a long shot.” Hunter lifted her chin with a finger. “This isn’t like a cold that you get out of your system, Sasha . . . this is like cutting off a part of your body. What you’re feeling now is only phase one—the realization that the limb has to come off. Just know I’ll be there through the process, however long it takes.”

  She closed her eyes, knowing that what Hunter had said was true. Her general had retired, Doc was talking about doing the same, and her whole squad was toying with the idea of resigning. Everything was coming apart at the seams. It had hurt like hell just acknowledging that change was probably imminent. Then what the hell was it going to feel like if she actually did it, actually left the military? Would there always be phantom pains reminding her of what she used to have? All of it crushed in on her, and right now she could only sort out segments of the problem one at a time.

  “I wish I could go with you to explain to our allies what’s about to happen,” she said, now holding his gaze. “I want them to go underground for a little while . . . but I don’t want anybody getting jumpy and deciding to go after the colonel and his squad. That won’t make things better.”

  “You go have a beer or something stronger. I’ll be back shortly to join up with you guys for shots—by then I’m sure my nerves will need it.” He gave her a tense half smile.

  “I’m serious, Hunter,” she said with a straight face.

  He nodded and lost the smile. “I know—and we want the same thing. No bloodshed.”

  Sir Rodney stood in the bayou with his retinue of sidhe guards, all eyes angrily surveying the Vampire contingent and those from the Unseelie Fae court. Other paranormal parliaments were represented by nervous, well-guarded diplomats. But none of the locals were present. This meeting in the clearing was for the leadership class only. All other members of the paranormal communities had gone into hiding following the disastrous human invasion of television cameras and human supernatural seekers.

  Elder Vlad gave Sir Rodney a wicked smile that looked like a cross between a threatening grimace and a sneer. “The wolves are not here. How fitting.”

  “You know they abandoned the area when Captain Trudeau returned to Denver and had her meeting with the human leadership,” Sir Rodney snapped. “I will carry word.” He then looked at the Unseelie representatives who were present. “I also have a message for your queen. You tell her that any aggressive act against me is a declaration of war. I want you to ask Cerridwen if she’s ready to try my hand.”

  “But can you proxy for the wolves’ vote?” Elder Vlad said coolly as the large court structure rose from the swamp at his command. He dismissed Sir Rodney’s talk of war with his ex-wife with a wave of his hand. “Whatever your battles are with Cerridwen, they will have to wait. The more pressing issue at hand is that I don’t believe it is possible to vote on behalf of your allies without express proof of their consent in written form.”

  “There was to be no vote cast tonight,” Sir Rodney volleyed back as nervous delegates shot one another worried glances.

  “No vote?” Elder Vlad said, raising an eyebrow. “How naive. Did you think we would have called an emergency meeting of the United Council of Entities’ leadership to merely debate the merits of the human invasion taking place in New Orleans?” Elder Vlad clucked his tongue with a sinister smile. “After a week or two, the human media will die down. Humans are like cattle—they have short attention spans. Once the cameras find the next interest, our constituents can again come out of hiding . . . This has just been an inconvenience, not a paranormal-world-shattering event.”

  Sir Rodney cast a worried glance around at his advisors and leaned down so that Garth could murmur in his ear.

  “The Vampires do not appear to be aware of the attempted possession, milord . . . perhaps it would be best not to make them aware that our sidhe was breached and a weakness still exists until we have word back from our allies.”

  Sir Rodney nodded and stepped away from Garth to address his ancient Vampire enemy. “Then what vote is required that cannot wait until the wolf Federations are present?” Sir Rodney called out into the night. Those around him muttered in agreement.

  “Read the law,” Elder Vlad said, causing the huge black book reserved for court events to appear and hurling it with sudden fury to slam Sir Rodney in the chest. The moment Sir Rodney caught it, the senior Vampire’s fangs crested. “Without due diligence and without provocation, our assets were attacked. We sustained significant property and collateral damage. You later learned in court that you and your wolves were wrong!” He pointed at Sir Rodney, making the now airborne Fae archers draw and hold the Vampire leader in their bow sightlines. “The law states that my cartel is due recompense for these unwarranted acts of aggression, and as you know we are not likely to allow those vile acts to go unchallenged. We are due a body for a body, and financial remuneration for all reported property damage—fair exchange is no robbery.”

  “You heard the circumstances under which your assets were laid to siege! The late Baron Montague, exterminated in court by your very hand for his part in this travesty, was involved in duplicity that created mistaken identity!” Sir Rodney shouted. “You come here under the cloak of darkness demanding a death—”

  “This is our afternoon,” Elder Vlad said coolly, making his Vampire henchmen snicker. “One man’s darkness is another man’s daylight . . . but no, we did not come to haggle over bodies. And as you well know, if you’d suspected the baron of wrongdoing, then the proper way to address his crimes would have been to call an emergency session of the UCE, which you did not do. Thus your recklessness—or rather, the primal response by the wolves at your beck and call—violated our laws, causing undue property damage and the unnecessary loss of Vampire existences that went well beyond the baron. Had he been found guilty, we would have brought him to swift justice, just as you saw us execute in court. He is no longer with us . . . and now it is time to review our other losses—the illegitimate ones you and your wolf allies caused.”

  “Then what do you want, if not dead Seelie Fae or wolves at your feet?” Sir Rodney shouted, hurling the ancient tome back toward Elder Vlad, who caught it without effort.

  “Come, come now, Your Majesty . . . you know we are much more sophisticated than that.” Elder Vlad smiled, but his black eyes remained void of emotion. “We want a fair exchange.”

  “And that would be exactly what?” Sir Rodney asked, his tone wary as he glanced at his allies.

  “Your forces have laid siege to a prominent member of our cartel’s lair, thus causing undue human awareness . . . You do remember the destruction of the baron’s manor house, yes? You then attacked one of our prominent private clubs, the Blood Oasis. Many of our trained human helpers and Vampire security forces were killed at those sites. You allowed your wolves to openly threaten us in court—shall we review the record?” Elder Vlad flung the tome into the air to allow it to hover between him and Sir Rodney. “Read it and weep,” he said in a threatening murmur as the book opened to the smoldering pages that held the proceedings of the last UCE meetings.

  “You still have not stated your purpose here tonight!” Sir Rodney said, ignoring the book.

  “The waver in your tone, no matter how much you protest, tells me you know exactly what we want as recompense,” Elder Vlad said with a smile. Moonlight reflected off his black, black irises, and he released a satisfied sigh. “Instead of the several bodies you owe us for the multipl
e unjustified attacks you have waged against us, we want a reinstatement of our leadership at the UCE—”

  “Impossible without a full vote!” Sir Rodney shouted as pandemonium broke out in the swamp.

  Elder Vlad placed a hooked finger to his thin lips for a moment as he shook his head. “You did not allow me to finish, Your Majesty . . . In addition to my being reinstated as leader of the UCE, we want those who have committed the worst offenses, those who actually led the atrocity against my people, to be sanctioned by an immediate loss of their voting power at the UCE. Therefore,” he added, smugly looking around, “the wolf Federations, by violation of their leadership, are no longer voting members of this council. It is the law. Thus, under the circumstances, I do believe we have all voting parties present.”

  “No,” Sir Rodney said. “We do not!” His gaze tore from Elder Vlad’s deadly eyes to stare at the clearly frightened leadership around him. “The Vampires willingly stormed out of the UCE before this last incident.” His gaze shot back toward Elder Vlad as he pointed at him. “It was your choice to leave the council once you were voted off as the head of that ruling body. Therefore, if you study the record, we do not owe you reinstatement!”

  “We were publicly humiliated by those same animals that attacked our assets—the wolves,” Elder Vlad said, curling his lip. “But if you’d prefer that we seek our redress the old-fashioned way—a body for a body—remember, we get to choose the bodies. I think you should confer with your allies to see which tack they would like you to pursue—ousting the wolves for their crimes against genteel Vampire society and a reinstatement of leadership . . . or blood in the streets. Either way, we are fine with the outcome. We just thought we’d keep the discourse civil by asking you first and putting it to a vote.”

  “No one wants another war,” a burly leader from The Order of the Dragons called out. “And without the wolves, our voting blocs will not be as strong . . . our membership will recoil from another war or the sacrifice of bodies to replace the Vampires’ losses.”