Wolf's Curse

by Kelley Armstrong

  I don’t know what to make of that. I feel a bit like a girl in one of those teen movies with the asshole guy who’s just nice enough to her that she doesn’t tell him to get lost. Kate hates those movies, and I agree. A person like that isn’t worth the effort if they’re not going to make the effort back. So where does that leave me with Mason? For now, it only means that I won’t make excuses for him. I’ll understand that he’s soldered on this armor for a reason, but if Elijah calls him an asshole, I’m not leaping to Mason’s defense.

  As for Elijah . . . I’m not sure what to think there, either. He’s told Kate who he is. She mentioned that in passing earlier. And he’s stuck to her side the way Mason sticks to mine, minus the insults and snark. He’s kind and considerate and leaps into battle right beside her. I want to say he has an ulterior motive but . . .

  A few hours ago, I couldn’t stand the sight of Elijah. The guy made my hackles rise. Now I’m fine with him, and he’s done nothing new to deserve that, but he hadn’t done anything to earn my earlier animosity, either.

  Something has shifted. Maybe it’s because my sister went through an ordeal in my absence, and he’d been in my usual spot: at her side. I could be jealous of that. Instead, I’m just glad he was there, and I’m glad he’s going to the cabin with her, and I have no doubt that he’ll go into that tunnel for her because he promised me he would. I can’t ask for more than that. I just hope he doesn’t break my sister’s heart. If he does, well, he isn’t trying to break it, and he obviously cares about her, and that’s what matters.

  Once Elijah and Mason are out of earshot, I tell Kate about Holly. She walks in silence for a few minutes. With anyone else, I’d provide my own interpretations and explanations. Kate’s working it through herself, though. Extrapolating and interpreting until she whispers, “Shit.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “She insists she wasn’t pretending to befriend you, but I know . . .” I shrug. “It’s still a betrayal, and I’m furious with her for it.”

  “Is it?” Kate scrunches her nose. “Elijah came to camp as a half-demon because they wouldn’t take werewolves. We came as ‘the mystery race’ so we didn’t freak anyone out. Holly came as a high-school student when she’s actually a college freshman. Yes, she had another reason for being here, but getting close to me wouldn’t help her achieve that goal.”

  I exhale. “Agreed. Good.”

  She puts her arm through mine. “Confidence-wise, I’m not in the best place these days, Lo, but I’m not quite that fragile. Thank you for being angry on my behalf. The bigger problem is that the witch is not on holidays. We met her in—”

  She inhales sharply, says, “Fuck!” and breaks into a run.

  I scramble after her. “Kate? What—?”

  She wheels so fast I bash into her.

  “You guys go,” she says. Then she raises her voice. “Mason? Watch out for Logan, okay?”

  “Of course,” he grunts, looking offended as he jogs to us. “What’s going on?”

  “I just want to get to Holly and Allan. Be sure they’re okay.”

  “Maybe we should all—” I begin.

  “Calling Paige’s phone is priority one,” Kate says. “If we get in any more trouble out here, we’ll be kicking ourselves if we ignored an opportunity to call in the cavalry. Call Paige. Make sure she brings backup. I’d say to call Mom but . . .”

  “She wouldn’t make it here before morning. No need to panic her if we don’t have to.”

  “Exactly. Now go. Meet us at the cabin after you’ve spoken to Paige.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kate

  Elijah and I move at a non-urgent jog until I’m sure Logan is out of earshot. Then I kick it up to a full run. Elijah falls in beside me without a questioning word.

  “Holly came to find the witch,” I say, and then I explain as fast as I can. Logan was protecting Holly’s privacy, but Elijah needs to be prepared.

  “Shit,” he says when I finish. “I know we needed to secure the necromancers, but we should have talked more first.”

  “Agreed,” I say.

  “Logan and I should have talked. As far as he knew, the witch wasn’t around. That’s what Holly said, and Marchocias seemed to confirm it. Holly was either mistaken or lying to convince Logan to leave. Marchocias . . .” I throw up my hands. “Who knows?”

  Elijah chuckles. “Demons.”

  “Exactly.”

  It’s not as if we can ask Marchocias’s intentions. After the fight, she announced she’d be embarking on a brief vacation to the other side of the veil where she’d do demon-stuff until the supernaturals cleared out of her forest. She’d pretended to be doing us a favor, but really, I think she didn’t want to be around when the council and the Cabals started looking for someone to blame. A demon makes a much better villain than four young necromancers.

  “The problem isn’t only that the witch is here,” I say. “It’s that she knows Holly is here and why. In the tunnel, she said ‘Tell the girl to stop looking for me, or she will end up like her boyfriend.’”

  “Boyfriend?” He inhales sharply. “The note. Addressed to H.T.”

  “Right. Holly hasn’t gone after this witch on her own. She must be part of a group. You heard what Derek and Chloe said, right? About groups trying to recruit them?”

  He nods. “The Cabals are the usual suspects, but there are plenty of smaller groups who use our powers.”

  “Yep. Supernatural abilities don’t help much in your average office job. Where they really come in handy is with the nefarious stuff. Super-strong werewolf enforcers. Invisibility-spellcasting spies. Teleporting half-demon thieves. We have Pack members who make their living in a less-than-legal way, and we can’t argue with their right to survive. Admittedly, in some cases, they make far more money than they need to survive. Welcome to supernatural capitalism.”

  Elijah chuckles. “And that means there are plenty of groups that hire supernaturals for dirty deeds. I was warned about that. Werewolves are one of the rarer races, which makes us valuable. I had an offer a few months ago when I was making contacts. So you think Holly’s mixed up in one of those.”

  “That note we found mentioned pay.” I inhale. “I’m trying not to judge Holly’s choices. The important thing is that she’s in trouble, and unless she’s stark evil—which I doubt—I need to get her out of it before—”

  We veer around a stand of trees. Elijah continues jogging beside me in silence until he realizes I don’t intend to finish that sentence.

  “Kate?” he prompts.

  I shake my head.

  “You were thinking something,” he says. “We need to get Holly out before . . .”

  “That witch was just messing with us, but I don’t think she’s going to do the same to Holly. She said to tell her to stop or she’ll end up like her boyfriend. Whoever left that letter in the tunnel? I don’t think he’s still alive.”

  “Shit.”

  What I don’t say is a connection I just made. Holly’s boyfriend came to find the witch. He’s almost certainly dead. And Elijah mentioned finding a mummified body in the attic.

  I pick up my speed.

  “It’ll be okay,” he says, grabbing my hand in a quick squeeze. “We can handle this.”

  “You are pretty good in a fight.” I shoot him a half smile. “For a non-Pack werewolf.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. Then he sobers and says, “We need to talk. Not now, but when this is over.”

  “Uh, that sounds ominous. Something I won’t want to hear?”

  “I hope not,” he says, and we run full out for the cabin.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Logan

  Mason and I walk about a half mile along the road, with me lifting Chloe’s cell phone every twenty steps to see whether we have a signal. I keep waiting for him to snark about that. Instead, he’s chattering away like a magpie. That’s no exaggeration, either. He asks me endless questions and seems genuinely interested in the answer
s. So, am I planning to go to college? Where? Majoring in what? Chloe seemed nice. Derek was standoffish, but Mason has heard that about him. Yes, he knows who they are—they’re legends among the experimental subjects. Mason says he should ask them some questions, maybe get contact information. He isn’t good at that sort of thing, so if I could help, he’d appreciate it.

  Mason is talking. He’s expressing an interest in me and in other people. He’s being considerate and thoughtful.

  Clearly, Marchocias was lying when she claimed to hop to the other dimension. She’s possessed Mason instead.

  I don’t honestly believe that, but I still slide in a few questions about the campers, ones only he’d know. He answers easily. Not possessed, then.

  I could hope Elijah calling Mason out had an effect. He realized he was being rude, and he’s trying to overcome it, at least with me. That might be a small part of it, but I think more is simple relief. I don’t know how much experience Mason has had with dangerous situations. While our parents shield us, we’ve still had our share of life-or-death experiences. We’re werewolves, and we’re the Alpha’s children. The protective wrapping can never be thick enough.

  In the past twelve hours, Mason has been bound to a funeral pyre, escaped an angry mob, played chew toy for hell hounds, made a deal with a demon and battled evil necromancers. We’ve survived the ordeal and unmasked the perpetrators, and his adrenaline is ebbing, leaving him euphoric, even giddy. Pure physiology, but I’ll enjoy it while I can.

  We walk and talk as I incessantly check Chloe’s phone. When I have a bar of cell service, I force myself to keep going until I have two. It only takes about twenty more steps. Then I place the call.

  After three rings, it goes straight to voice mail.

  “Hey, Paige,” I say. “You won’t recognize this number, but it’s Logan. We’re in a bit of a situation here. Maybe you could call me back as soon as you get this? Thanks.”

  “A bit of a situation?” Mason snorts as I hang up. “Maybe you can call me back? No, no, go ahead, Paige. Finish your latte, no rush here.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Paige is strictly tea, preferably chai.”

  A smile plays on his lips, and that smile does something to my insides. I don’t know what, only that I’d like to see more of it.

  The phone rings. I jump, startled from my thoughts, and I stare down at the object in my hand.

  “Uh, unless that’s telemarketing,” Mason says, “I think you want to answer it, Danvers.”

  My cheeks heat. “Right.”

  I hit the button. “Paige?”

  “Hey, Logan,” she says. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize the number, and I’m driving. Did you borrow someone’s phone at the conference? Last I heard, they were talking about using a blocker.” She makes a noise in her throat. “I’m glad they listened to reason on that one. We’re trying to treat teens as responsible young adults, and we take away their phones and set up a blocker? Believe me, that was not my idea. So much about this damned conference was not my idea.”

  “I got that impression,” I murmur as noncommittally as I can.

  She groans. “It’s a disaster, isn’t it? That’s why you’re calling. To very politely ask when I’m going to show up.”

  “I heard Benny’s sick.”

  “He is, but he seemed better this morning, so we caught a morning flight out. Short version, we’re about an hour away.”

  “We? Lucas is with you?”

  “Hey, Logan!” A voice calls over the speaker. A voice that is not Lucas’s but just as familiar.

  “Hey, Savannah,” I say.

  “The original plan was for Lucas to come. Paige didn’t tell the conference folks that or they’d freak out. But with Benny sick, we swapped spots. Lucas and Adam are both stuck with sick kids. Poor guys. Benny is an angel, of course, but put him with my little devils, and all hell breaks loose.”

  Paige snorts. “Benny only plays the angel. He’s the instigator. Rob and Evie are just the ones who get caught.”

  “True enough. Benny does take after his mom.”

  “What? I don’t—”

  “Sorry, Logan,” Savannah cuts in. “We haven’t forgotten you. So how bad is this conference? Wait, on second thought, don’t tell me. Paige’s already been gnashing her teeth at some of the last-minute changes. Then she heard about them making you and Kate hide the fact you’re werewolves, and the second Benny stopped puking, we had plane tickets.”

  “We appreciate that. Things are a little . . .” I glance at Mason and clear my throat. “The conference may not have gone as planned.”

  “No shit, huh?” Savannah continues. “What a mess. Ack, no, we can’t have werewolves at the conference! Oh, fine, we can have them, but let’s keep it a secret. Oh, and that building? Paige was spitting nails at the sheer ugliness of it. Poor Lucas was just flummoxed by the design. No windows? A glass ceiling? Typical Nast Cabal, right? Cutting-edge design that makes no logical sense and is probably evil. My family, huh? I kept joking that they probably built it on an ancient Native American burial site, too.”

  “No, not exactly . . .”

  “Anyway, don’t blame the Lucean Cabal for the design. The Nasts own the land. They just let the conference be held there as a gesture of goodwill. Sean’s been showing them up too much lately.”

  “Right. Well, as charitable efforts go . . .” I clear my throat again. “Paige is driving, right?”

  “Still here!” Paige calls. “Just letting Savannah vent on my behalf.”

  “May I talk to you without the speakerphone, Savannah?”

  Silence. After five seconds, I check to see whether I’ve lost the connection. Then Paige says, “Something’s gone wrong, hasn’t it? Worse than poor dietary choices and a lack of outdoor excursions.” She curses under her breath. “No, silly question. You wouldn’t call me about that. Even Kate would wait to complain. Something has gone very wrong, and you’re politely listening to us chatter before mentioning that monstrosity of a building collapsed and kids are trapped in the rubble.”

  “No one’s trapped or in immediate danger. We’ve resolved the issue.”

  “Of course you have,” she murmurs.

  “Most of it, anyway. There is an auxiliary minor situation, but Kate is taking care of that.”

  “See, Paige?” Savannah says. “All the fires are out. Or nearly out. Nothing to worry about . . . except the fact that there were fires during a conference for teen leaders. And by fires, I’m guessing supernatural shenanigans. Just as long as there weren’t demons involved. Tell me no one summoned a demon, Logan.”

  I don’t answer.

  “You realize that was a joke, right, kid? Because very clearly, no one summoned a demon or made a deal with one or . . . Cut me off at any time, Logan.”

  “The situation has been successfully resolved.”

  “Mother fucking—!”

  “Pulling over now,” Paige says, underscored by the sound of tires crunching gravel.

  “Jesus Christ, Paige,” Savannah continues. “Didn’t I say you shouldn’t let Logan hang around Lucas so much? There were demons. Demons at this conference, and he’s calmly telling us the situation is resolved. Nothing to see here, folks. Just uninvited demons.”

  “Actually, it was invited,” I say. “That’d be the summoning part.”

  “Ha ha.”

  The car doors slam, presumably meaning they’ve switched places. Another crunch of gravel, and Paige says, “Okay, I’m in the passenger seat, and the phone is not on speaker. You can tell me what happened without fear of driving me off the road.”

  “Well, to begin with, I don’t believe the Nasts were acting out of charity when they allowed you to host the inaugural event at their new conference center. It could have been a trap, but I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and say we were lab rats. They realized they’d chosen an inauspicious location and wanted someone to test it, and if things went wrong, it’d be the fault of the council and the Lucean Cabal.
”

  “When you say inauspicious location . . .”

  “This forest is the home of an earth-bound demon. Marchocias.”

  Silence. Complete silence. Then I tell her the rest of the story.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Kate

  Elijah and I are close enough to spot the cabin when a cry has us pulling up short, each grabbing for the other’s arm. We stand there, arms awkwardly interlocked, and sputter a laugh. We release each other and then smash shoulders as we both try to take the lead.

  “We could take turns,” Elijah says. “I lead and protect you for the next hour, and then you lead and protect me for an hour.”

  “Or we can battle for the alpha spot as proper wolves.”

  “Proper Pack wolves, KitKat. Mutts don’t follow no stinking rules.” He squints into the darkening forest. “Hey, did you hear a cry of alarm? We should probably follow that instead of standing here arguing about who’s . . . Kate?”

  I wave over my shoulder at him.

  “I’ll protect you from the rear,” he says.

  “Good call.”

  The cry comes again. The first time, I figured it was an animal or a bird. That second cry, though, is very clearly human, and I kick my speed into top gear. Elijah sticks right on my heels, close enough that when I stop, his hands go on my hips, holding me steady. He stays there, pressed against my back, hands braced on my hips as we both listen.

  “You hear something?” he whispers, breath tickling.

  I turn to whisper in his ear, and he leans in for it. “Just wondering whether we really should be chasing a cry away from the cabin.”

  “Hmm. You have a point. However . . .”