Banewolf (Dark Siren Book 2)

by Eden Ashley

  He shrugged. “I honestly have no idea how he does that. Orrin is our go-to guy for sparring when you’re injured.”

  Taking Orrin’s offered hand, she climbed to her feet and dusted herself off. York immediately took her by the shoulders, steering her to stand in front of Orrin again. But this time, he put himself between them. “Assume the stance.” After she did, he guided her forearms forward with a quick, thrusting motion. Then he did it again. “The next time he attacks, do exactly that. Lead with your thumbs. Take out his eyes.”

  Kali recoiled. “I can’t do that.”

  “You won’t hurt him.”

  “No.” She folded her arms stubbornly.

  York rolled his eyes. “Orrin, a little help here.”

  “I will not be harmed, Kalista.”

  “He just told me to jab you in the eyes. What if I get in a good shot like with York the other day?”

  “I will stop your advance before contact. Please trust me.”

  Unable to refuse his earnest expression, Kali relented and stepped into a fighting stance. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  #

  The dark pickup sped along the interstate, aimed for the city. No one said much during the ride. There were simply too many words between Rhane and River. Stepping through a minefield of family issues was the last thing Rhane wanted to navigate while distracted with thoughts of Gabriel’s ambiguous motives, the even more abstruse Builders, treason amongst the Primes, a new threat from rogues, an uneasy alliance with Ian that would probably turn out to be a huge mistake, and finding the elusive Siren’s Heart. Rhane didn’t mind the silence. He needed it.

  Even Rion was unusually hushed. He sat in the backseat quietly humming tunes from War’s mp3 player. Either War had left the device behind accidentally, or Rion had swiped it before leaving the manor. There was no way War had willingly loaned it to him.

  But Rion’s silence didn’t surprise Rhane. His brother was essentially a foreigner to the young kin. He looked like the royals stories were often told of, but Rion had never met one. And York probably fed him additional information that didn’t paint royals in a favorable light.

  Once upon a time, Warekin were a pure race. All firstborn had white hair, fair skin, and blue eyes. Other offspring carried traits of fair skin and blue eyes. All held the power to summon war skins. They’d used those skins and fighting skills to police the lands, subdue wars, and keep rogue and kindred populations in check. But Warekin had performed their duties too well. The resulting absence of war eventually made them weak—or so the story was told. Pure Warekin bred with humans. Not all of the children who were sired could shapeshift. Some bloodlines lost the ability altogether. But there were some families who remained pure. White hair and blue eyes became staples of those unadulterated bloodlines. But white hair still only marked the firstborn of breeders from pure bloodlines. Locks of any other color indicated a tainted lineage.

  Rhane glanced at River. Whytetree was thought to have the purest of pedigrees, until he was born. He with black hair and green eyes.

  York came from a bloodline beneath royals. He had never lived in Golden Mountain. Until he showed the ability to shapeshift, the plains were his home. Those who lived within the villages had varying opinions of the ruling class—Protectors, Benefactors, or Suppressors. Differing views were affected by many variables. York never spoke directly against the ruling class, not even after leaving their homeland. However, Rhane was pretty sure that in York’s eyes, the royals fell in the “Suppressor” category. He couldn’t blame York for seeing things that way. But Rhane’s father was of pure blood. He knew the other side of them. He’d lived in the mountain, experienced the love and mercy of a royal. And royal blood ran through his veins.

  “I don’t think you should go back.”

  Jolted from thought, Rhane glanced at Rion through the rearview mirror. “Turn the volume up.”

  Rion obeyed without hesitation. Barely making out the lyrics from the earbuds, Rhane shook his head. “Louder.” Even with the volume maxed out, Rhane was unwilling to take any chances. He put all four windows down and finally looked at River. “Keep your voice to a minimum.”

  “I don’t think you should go back,” he repeated.

  “How do you know I’m going back?”

  “The years we spent apart don’t mean I know you any less.”

  “Fair enough.” Rhane tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I have to find out what’s going on. I think the Primes can help me.” He intentionally neglected to go into detail with the reasons behind that theory. It wasn’t because he didn’t trust River. But his younger brother had spent four hundred years on Golden Mountain, with royals, and in the company of their mother without the benefit of Rhane’s offsetting influence. He couldn’t ignore that.

  “Then allow me to go. Tell me what answers you seek, and I will find them.”

  “This is something I have to do.”

  “How can you be sure of their forgiveness?”

  “Primes sent you here. Jehsi returned Bellefuron as a sign of their oath.”

  “Do not trust them, brother.”

  “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t trust Father?”

  River fixed his cool stare on Rhane. “I am telling you not to trust them.”

  “I don’t see a way to figure this out from here.” He shook his head. “Either way, I have to stop running.”

  The wind was doing a serious number on River’s platinum locks. Turning into the bluster, he whipped his hair into a braided knot and then fixed it with a needle sharp shard of bone from a plate beast’s horn. The elegant motions of his fingers ended in short, final motions, communicating the disapproval he would not give voice to. River didn’t have to agree with Rhane’s decision. He only had to accept it.

  Putting the windows up, Rhane whistled to get Rion’s attention. He waited until both earbuds were out. “There might be trouble at the bookshop. A rogue was there during my last visit. Probably the same one who killed King for his position, or she was the one who gave the order.”

  “Was she hot?”

  Rhane rolled his eyes heavenward. He could have sworn York had stayed behind at the manor. “She turns into a troll with a severe case of sunburn in natural light. What do you think?”

  “Not hot.”

  “Glad that’s settled. Until we learn whether or not the rogue is there, Rion, I want you to stay within sight of either me or River. Understood?”

  “Got it.”

  “And if we do find a rogue?” River asked coolly.

  “Let’s not kill it right away.”

  Chapter 42

  The bookshop looked the same as the last time. Only all of the windows were open and shutters were drawn up, flooding the inside with sunlight. Rhane took it as a good sign. The ugly flower arrangement was also missing from the storefront. Another good sign. Lara, the rogue, had to have been the creator of the last bouquet. Maybe she was missing too.

  Harry came as soon as the bell dinged on the front door. Seeing Rhane, the old man scurried backward. “Oh no. I don’t want anything more to do with you…things.”

  Rhane gestured for River and Rion to stay by the door. He moved toward Harry, but the shopkeeper kept backing away. His plump face grew increasingly alarmed. “Please. You must leave. You’ve caused enough trouble.”

  “Harry,” Rhane said as nonthreatening as possible. “We just want to take a look around your shop. We’ll be gone in under an hour.”

  The old man positioned himself behind a dusty workbench. “No,” he said.

  Giving the shopkeeper his space, Rhane folded his arms in thought. They needed to look for clues. Harry’s cooperation could be needed later, so tying him up and forcibly taking the shop wasn’t an option. Somehow, Rhane was going to have to convince this man that he and his friends were harmless. “Will you come to the window, Harry?”

  Harry’s round features widened with fear. “Creatures like you abhor the light.”

  �
�Let me show you that I’m different. Watch.” He stepped away from the old man and went to the nearest window. Completely bathed in sunlight, he faced Harry again. “I’m not like Lara.”

  Leaving the meager cover provided by the workbench, Harry dared a few steps closer. Rhane watched the shopkeeper’s fear morph into intellectual curiosity. “What are you?”

  “I’m just a guy, Harry.”

  At that, the old man backed away again. “You are no man. No. Your picture was in the book!”

  Damn. Rhane tried again. “Okay. I’m the guy who keeps creatures like Lara from hurting normal people like you.” It was actually the former job description of the Warekin. But an old truth was better than a lie the old man would never accept. And it was certainly better than the current truth—if you don’t help, a supernatural war will happen that could end with the awakening of a soul eating, world consuming entity.

  “King never came back.”

  Harry looked pretty worried about the kid. Rhane felt bad and didn’t want to be the one to deliver the news. Technically, it was King’s next of kin who should be the first to learn of the boy’s fate. But Rhane didn’t think the shopkeeper would forgive another lie. So he told the truth. “King is dead.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  He wanted to say, Yes. I did. And then I ate him. Because after everything he’d just explained, it was really a stupid question. “No,” he answered. “Lara did.”

  “You should have stopped her.” Harry’s lip quivered. His eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sorry. I’m trying to do that now. But I need your help.”

  The old man sat in the nearest chair, breaking down for a few moments of wretched sobbing. “He was my grandson.”

  Ouch. “I’m sorry,” Rhane repeated and meant it. He knew too well what it felt like to lose someone.

  He waited until Harry was done, hoping very much that Rion’s curiosity hadn’t gotten the better of him and led the boy nosing around. After several long minutes, Harry looked up. His kind face darkened. “Will you kill her?”

  Rhane nodded.

  “Then take what you need. The shop is yours.”

  “Thank you, Harry.”

  Ten minutes later, his brother and Rion were huddled over a tattered strip of paper that threatened to disintegrate if either of them breathed too hard. “What’s this?”

  “Something the boy found,” River answered without lifting his head.

  He and Rion were acting like a couple of history geeks who had just discovered the secret journal of Genghis Kahn. Not wanting to interrupt, Rhane discreetly moved in for a closer look. Whatever was written on the paper was complete gibberish. Letters, symbols, and numbers randomly jumped out at him. Some were written backward and upside down. Or he had suddenly succumbed to a severe case of dyslexia. He recognized at least four languages in the script, but none of them formed words. None of them made sense.

  He glanced at Rion and River again. Then he took a second look at Rion. The boy was reading. Rhane couldn’t wait any longer. “What’ve you got?”

  “It appears to be some kind of code, a really old one.” He finally met Rhane’s eyes. “If computers had been invented when people were still drawing stick paintings on cave walls, this is what the code would have looked like.”

  “Do you know what it says?”

  “Not really. But I’m pretty sure I could write a program to read this. It might take a few days.”

  Not one to miss details, Rhane prodded Rion a bit further. “You said not really.”

  “Well…I’m not sure. The code is pretty complicated.”

  “You compared it to stick figures a few seconds ago.”

  Rion sighed. Rhane waited patiently. Rion always got like this when asked to dumb techy stuff down enough so that people who didn’t sleep with their tablets could understand. “Asking me to translate this without the proper tools is like expecting an mp3 player to read music from a cassette tape. You remember cassette tapes, don’t you?”

  Rhane almost laughed. “What does it say, Rion?”

  “Rock, spirit, and mountain are buried in the code. But like I said, I can’t be sure until I write the necessary program.”

  “This is just like--” River began, but Rhane had gone before he could finish the sentence.

  Harry was kneeling on the floor, sorting through a pile of books when Rhane appeared beside him. In alarm and surprise, the old man started sideways and fell over. Apologizing, Rhane helped him to his feet. He usually didn’t allow humans see him move so fast. And it was generally a bad idea to scare old people like that. But the matter was urgent. “Harry, I need you to come with me for a moment.”

  At a normal pace, he led the old man back to the workbench and pointed to the strip of parchment. “What is this, Harry?”

  The shopkeeper looked at it, and then at Rhane, curiously. “I have seen this before, but I do not know what it is. Lara studied it many times.”

  Rhane pressed the old man further. “Why did she leave it behind?”

  “I don’t know,” he said and Rhane believed him.

  Rion offered an explanation. “Maybe she’s coming back.”

  Still looking at Rhane, Harry shook his head. “She hasn’t returned since the day you came here.”

  Rion grinned. “You must have scared her off.”

  Rhane didn’t like that answer. Spreading from the center of his gut, an ill feeling crept through his body. “It’s too easy.”

  River spoke matter-of-factly. “The map at the manor needed a key.” He took the strip from Rion and handed it to Rhane.

  “And suddenly here it is.” He stared at the parchment but didn’t offer a hand to receive it. “That makes me not want it very much.”

  Chapter 43

  “I can’t believe you’re mad at me. I wasn’t the one who told Rhane.”

  “I’m not mad at anyone.”

  “That’s funny, because the way you’ve been sulking around makes me think you’re mad.”

  “Just drop it, Rion.”

  Kali listened to the kin argue and did her best to stay out of it. Rion wasn’t exaggerating. Lately, War had been really broody. Instead of his usual charm and competitive playfulness, he was a quiet shadow who obeyed orders and did little else. He was probably afraid of screwing up again. If that was the case, she had a hunch he would never reveal that fear to Rion.

  “Rhane isn’t mad at you. He gave the OK for the route we took.”

  “I know.” War looked around in exasperation. “Could we not talk about this here?”

  “Here” was the school cafeteria. And the room was packed. Far too many people around to risk talking “shop.” Whenever homemade chili burgers doused in the cook’s special homemade sauce hit the menu, the cafeteria turned into a zoo.

  “Fine. Whatever,” Rion grumbled. And for the next few minutes, he put every thread of focus into devouring two burgers.

  Great. Now both of them are pouting. Kali diverted her attention to finding Matthias and Ander. Ever since the incident in the woods, the kindred had made themselves more visible throughout the school day. It was a direct consequence of Rhane’s order that she be in line of sight of someone at all times. No argument. No questions.

  She spotted the kindred after a couple of passes. They weren’t far away. Only a group of science nerds separated their table from the one she shared with War and Rion. But the table directly adjacent to Matthias and Ander was where Bentley, Tyler, and Lloyd had chosen to sit. Oh, that’s so not good.

  It was like watching two cars head for imminent collision. The kindred didn’t bother to hide that they were watching the newly turned Reaper hosts. And the trio of human servants blatantly stared back. No one seemed willing to swerve in the little game of chicken.

  Hearing Rion suck in a breath, Kali tore her eyes away and saw a much bigger problem stalking towards them. Gabriel.

  “Incoming,” Rion whispered urgently to War.

  A lot happened
next.

  In a flash of movement, Rion and War were in Gabriel’s face. She was almost certain the blur leaping across the table had been Matthias because suddenly, he and Ander stood with the kin. Together, the four of them seized Gabriel and carried him out of the cafeteria. Remembering how War had almost been torn apart in the last fight with Gabriel, Kali threw back her chair and dashed out behind them. Reaching the corridor just in time to hear the doors to the science lab slam shut, she ran down the hall, slipped inside the room, and closed the doors behind her. The lab was typically deserted during lunch hour. So inside was completely dark save for sunlight filtered through several windows. In that dim lighting, Kali saw Gabriel. He was against the wall, pinned between Ander and Matthias while War held a serrated blade to his throat. How he’d gotten the weapon through the half-a-dozen metal detectors situated across the campus was beyond the point. Rion stood off to one side and faced the entrance. Apparently, his role was that of the lookout.

  “I’ve got no problem finishing what our warlord started,” War said, a bit too calmly.

  A cloud of red drifted through Gabriel’s eyes. “Relax, little one. I mean you no threat.” The former Prime upturned his palms in a gesture of peace. No one moved. More importantly, the knife didn’t budge from Gabriel’s already scarred throat.

  “Perhaps it would put you at ease if the servant speaks.” Gabriel eyes closed halfway. The red hue of his pupils rolled out of sight, becoming irresistibly blue once more. Then the creepy, bugs-crawling-beneath-her-skin feeling Kali got whenever Gabriel was around, vanished.

  The monster was gone. And Cal was back.

  His glance slid slowly to Ander on his right and then to Matthias on his left. Very carefully, he looked at the weapon held against his throat. “Okay,” he dragged the word out. “This again, huh? Gabriel really needs to work on his people skills.” He brandished a disarming grin.

  War responded by pressing the blade deeper.

  “Whoa.” Cal’s face widened with alarm. “You can’t slit my throat in the middle of the science lab. Kal, a little help here please.”