by Mason Sabre
“If he’s challenging his maker …” Gemma started.
“They do it at the Wrecky. It’s quiet, out the way. No Humans to come and disturb the shit. Nothing.” The Wrecky was exactly as the name suggested. It was the nickname given to it, because it was where fights between Others went down. Only one ever came out when two went up. The other would be wrecked, and so it got its name. And it was a good half hour drive away. How much of a head start had Phoenix had? Had he gone with Trevor? Cade didn’t know, but he was sure as hell wasn’t going to waste another minute thinking about it.
“We have to go there.”
“I’ll go,” Stephen said.
“No,” said Cade sternly. “I’m coming. You have to drive.”
It was with cold acceptance that Phoenix realised that he had been set up. Trevor had laid a trap and he had naïvely walked right into it, not thinking at all. How stupid was he? He had trusted Trevor—trusted that he was helping Cade—that in itself was probably the most stupid thing he had done. He wanted to believe that people were good, but he was fast learning that they weren’t.
Darkness surrounded him, along with masses of trees. He had no way of getting back to Cade’s—he didn’t even know the way and had no means to call. He really was lost.
Perhaps this was Trevor’s plan—to just dump him out in the wilderness like discarding a puppy on the side of the road and knowing that it won’t be able to find its way home. Icy fingers travelled up his spine, and he shuddered. That niggling feeling that someone was behind him had him swivelling around, but there was no one there. It felt like there were a hundred eyes watching him and he backed out into the car park and the open space. It was an illusion, though. The car park itself, while open, was surrounded by trees and woodlands everywhere. The only gap was the small path Trevor had driven down, and that just led to even more greenery. The trees reached over the lane like lovers holding hands, creating an eerie darkness below.
Phoenix stepped out into the open lot cautiously. The air was still up here; as if it didn’t exist at all. A strange warmth settled on his skin, the woodland mist snaking ghostly fingers around him as he walked. The tiny hairs on his arms stood up, his wolf on guard, ever-listening and cautious. Something wasn’t right. He scrutinised every shadow, every corner that he could see, constantly glancing over his shoulder as he walked. There was nothing there, but his skin still crawled with trepidation, his senses on high alert as he walked to the lane. He stuck to the middle of it, giving himself a chance to run either way should he need to. This was so stupid. So damn stupid. He knew it. If it were the day time, he wouldn’t be afraid. He walked down to where he came to the public toilets that he and Trevor had passed earlier. Something stirred as Phoenix got closer and his heart stopped. He froze, his eyes glued to the cubicles.
A man stepped out of the shadows slowly. Dark hair, dark set eyes—frightening eyes—the same eyes that had met his in the car mirror as he and his mother had driven away. He wouldn’t ... couldn’t … ever forget that face. This wasn’t the maker—this was the maker’s father.
This was a trap.
“Good evening, Phoenix,” the man drawled in a southern accent.
Phoenix started to back-peddle, heart hammering in his chest.
“I had a very interesting conversation the other day,” he began. “This man called me up … I don’t recall his name really, but it doesn’t matter.” He waved away this piece of trivia. “He called me, said that there was this little problem running around. Apparently,” he laughed, “I had created a half-breed. Now this is the funny part, because I don’t actually remember biting anyone.”
“You didn’t bite me,” Phoenix said.
“No, I didn’t,” the man replied as he continued his slow approach. “I know that it wasn’t me. So I asked for proof, and this man sent me the tracer … and what do you know?”
Phoenix shook his head.
“It matched.” The man stopped and frowned dramatically while rubbing his chin. “So, that left me wondering. If I hadn't bit you, it had to be someone who shared my blood …” His eyes bore into Phoenix’s. “Robert, my son?”
“He didn’t bite me, either,” Phoenix said quickly. “It wasn’t him. It was someone else.”
“Ah, Phoenix,” he said, clasping his hands together. “I wish that were true, but you see, my son and I are the only wolves left from my family, and so, well, if I didn’t bite you, and my son didn’t bite you, then who else could it be? Either way, it is myself who would be brought to justice. Isn’t that a little unfair? Especially as I hear you killed a boy, and well, that would be on my head, too.”
“I’m sorry,” Phoenix said. There was no way to get past the man. He stood in the middle of the lane. Phoenix calculated each move as the man spoke. He’d not stand a chance if he tried to sprint past him.
“It isn’t nice to be punished for something I didn’t do.”
“No,” agreed Phoenix. “No one will know.”
The tilted his head to look up at the head of the trees. “No, they won’t, but there is always a ‘but’, isn’t there?” He smiled. “I mean, that’s just the shit of life, isn’t it? We think we can all sort it out and then this thing comes along and whispers but and then kicks us in the arse. I wonder if that’s why Americans call it a butt?” He waved a hand in the air. “I'm digressing. This Human you killed ...”
“It was an accident,” Phoenix said quickly. “They were hitting me. I-I,” he stammered, “didn’t mean to do it. It just happened.”
“It did, and that’s unfortunate.” The man began to advance again, this time a little faster, and Phoenix backed up carefully, watching every step the man took. He didn’t take his eyes from the man’s, not even when the colour in them seemed to come alive and deepen. They turned oily black, and Phoenix’s mouth dropped open at the sight. The man laughed. “Not everyone can do that. You have to have a certain amount of will to be able to shift only what you choose to on your body.” He held his hand out to show Phoenix, and Phoenix couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerised as the man’s bones moved with fluidity. It wasn’t like Cade or Stephen when they shifted—it was like he controlled every part of his body. Claws pushed through his nails, leaving his hand like some weird Freddie Kruger crap. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
Phoenix moved faster now, backing up and trying to put as much distance between them as possible, but the gap was closing quickly. He’d backed into the car park and was almost at the small wall on the edge. There was nowhere to go and space was running out. Swallowing hard, he spun on his heel and launched himself into a desperate run into the safe darkness of the trees. He ran fast, his feet pounding on the woodland ground, cracking twigs and debris underfoot as he went. A malicious laugh echoed from somewhere behind him, filling the darkness with sinister evil.
“Do you really think running is going to help you?” the man called. Phoenix stopped and spun around, trying to decipher the direction the voice was coming from. It wasn’t behind him like it should be, it was everywhere. “You're part of me—you and I are connected. Running will do you no good, you stupid boy.” The edge of his wolf deepened the man’s voice now.
Phoenix lost himself in the darkness. Every direction looked to be exactly the same. He had no idea which way to run to escape. He stumbled and caught himself on the exposed roots of one of the trees. He stopped to listen, straining his ears for even the tiniest of sounds, but there was absolute quiet. Even the woodland creatures had taken flight. He scampered down between the older trees—they were bigger, their trunks expansive. He hid behind one of those and stood as still as he could manage, waiting.
Several minutes passed before he dared to peer out from behind the tree and into the darkness beyond. Terror filled him at the sight of a large, black wolf. Its fur was thick and long, its eyes glowing a moonlight yellow. Phoenix jumped back, shaking and panting as he glued himself to the tree trunk. He could not fight this wolf—he was about to die. The realisation hit him
like a ton of bricks.
A low rumble began, at first hardly detectable, but then growing loud. The wolf was coming this way and Phoenix tensed, holding his breath. He willed himself to vanish and be invisible, wishing foolishly that the wolf would just walk past him. To the right, Phoenix heard the sounds of paws on the ground, and then the wolf’s snout slowly came into sight. It huffed as he surveyed the area, and Phoenix stood frozen, not making a single sound. The wolf turned, his yellow eyes falling onto his prey. Phoenix launched himself forward. He didn’t even think, just turned and ran. The wolf growled and lunged after him.
Something hit Phoenix in the back and he went down, flailing forwards. He threw his arms out to catch himself but ended up rolling with flashes of black fur and gnashing jaws above his face. They rolled down the hill together, and pain tore through Phoenix’s arm as the wolf bit down and caught him. He tried to yank his arm free and got a chunk of flesh torn from him. Phoenix screamed from the pain of it. The momentum of the roll made the wolf lose his hold and he was flung away. Phoenix sprang to his feet and ran the other way, as fast as his feet could carry him. The wolf recovered quickly, shaking off the fall, and took off after him again. Phoenix clutched at his arm as he raced back up the slope. He veered to the side when he reached the top, but he had to catch himself when the ground gave way. He caught himself on a tree at the edge whose roots had long since been uncovered as the stream had eroded the earth. The ground beneath him gave way and he slipped. Twisting, he clutched at the roots of the tree and caught himself. Phoenix peered up, panting, visually searching every direction for the wolf. He knew he was there—he just couldn’t see him—but his dark presence pressed against his mind. Blood rolled down Phoenix’s arm, making his hand and fingers slick with it. He wiped them across his jeans and pulled himself up from the dirt.
The rumble started again, faster this time, almost a howl rather than a growl. It pulled at Phoenix’s wolf and Phoenix fought to keep his eyes open as his wolf demanded attention and freedom.
“Come to me, boy.” Phoenix heard the soft call in his mind, as the man called to Phoenix’s wolf. His eyes closed as if of their own accord, and Phoenix glimpsed his wolf. He sat there, head cocked to one side in silent expectation. Unable to withstand the call any longer, Phoenix dropped to his knees, his skin set alight with the need to shift. His bones ached, the need to shift making them feel like they would snap at any moment.
“Stop,” Phoenix rasped, fruitlessly trying to stop his wolf. His face contorted in pain and his muscles tore under his skin, answering the call of the dominant wolf. He couldn’t fight it.
He screamed as the forced shift set his body to ripping itself apart.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Cade could hardly walk, let alone get himself out of the house and to the car to even think about driving. He was utterly exhausted. Stephen practically carried him to the car, wrapping his thick arms around him and taking the burden of his weight. Cade leaned on his friend, his arm around Stephen’s shoulder—his friend. No matter how angry he was with Cade, or how much of a confrontation they had, Stephen would always be there for him. He would always be his friend. Cade would never again doubt that.
Fighting through the weakness and dizziness, Cade willed his body to recover. Whatever Phoenix was doing, it was bad—it was really fucking bad. Cade could sense it deep down to the depths of his soul.
Stephen got Cade into the back of the car and wasted no time getting in and driving. They tore away from the house, the sudden lurch of the car sending Cade reeling. His head cracked on the door, and Cade let out an oath. No way was he telling Stephen to slow down, though. Every second that passed meant another second Phoenix might be in trouble.
“Fucking sweepers are out,” Stephen cursed, stopping at a junction that didn’t really require him to stop. A car drove past him, green lights flashing. Sweepers—they all hated them. They searched for strays at night and picked them up like wild animals. They could have done without the hindrance tonight. Cade pulled the seatbelt around him, but then thought better of it. He couldn’t wear it. It hurt too damn much, pressing against his wounds.
“Do you think you would feel better if you shifted?” Gemma asked, looking back at him from the front seat.
“Now?” Cade and Stephen echoed.
“If he shifts, maybe he can heal a bit and run after Phoenix. Maybe we need a wolf with us.”
Stephen glanced at Cade in the rear-view mirror. “Maybe she’s right. Can you shift back there?”
It wasn’t that he couldn’t shift in the back of the car—the space was big enough—but he was in too much pain to sit in the awkward angles it would need. But this was for Phoenix, so it didn’t matter how much it hurt and how uncomfortable it made him. “If I shred your seat?” he asked Stephen.
“Then I’ll bill you.”
Cade slumped back in his seat and slowly started to unbutton his shirt. He didn’t open the shirt all the way, just enough so that he could slip it up and over his head. He caught Gemma watching him in the mirror on the visor, their eyes locking for a moment. Stephen put his foot down on the accelerator abruptly, and both Cade and Gemma were flung back against their seats. Despite the fact they were on speaking terms again, Cade knew Stephen was not about to accept this thing between him and Gemma. He meant as much to Cade as Gemma did, but he couldn’t deny what his heart was crying out for.
When Cade had slipped his jeans off, he paused for breath. His wolf was ready to fight, ready to come out and protect Phoenix, but his body rebelled, still needing to recuperate from the damage the silver had caused. They hadn't even made it twenty-four hours in the cage. They hadn't been strong enough to stand it. Stephen had come down to check on them after his pack run and immediately taken them both out. If there were any repercussions for him from Malcolm for letting them out early, Cade did not know. The silver had left them completely weak and delirious, and Cade was sure he now knew what it felt like to be on the verge of death. How Stephen had managed longer in there, Cade had no idea. It was a hell he never wanted to experience again.
They reached the woodland area, no houses or shops to mar the view. Although all their homes were surrounded by countryside, this area seemed thicker with it—it had more trees, more animals, more hills and fields, though not much in the way of livestock. The Humans used these places when they wanted to get in touch with nature, their putrid stench lingering in the air long after they had gone. It was the stench of the viciousness that ran through them all. Places like Cammore Woods were picturesque, and they needed to be preserved. But Humans would erect monstrosities in the middle and call it progress. It wasn’t Others that destroyed nature, it was Humans.
Stephen got onto a single lane that went around like the slope on a helter-skelter. The drop down the side was steep—there was no surviving a fall should they come off—but Stephen pushed it to its limit, driving at a speed dangerously close to sending them flying off the edge should he make one, wrong move.
Fighting his dizziness, Cade closed his eyes and located his wolf. It wasn’t so hard to do—his wolf was already there, ready and waiting to protect Cade and cub. All he needed was Cade’s invitation, and when Cade offered it, the wolf leapt. It took possession of his body, and Cade gritted his teeth as the shift came over him—the pain excruciating on his already-battered body.
He saw Gemma’s eyes well, but he had no time to tell her it was okay. Agony ripped through him and stole his breath, just as his wolf stole his body.
“I’m here.” Gemma’s hand buried itself in his fur, a comforting touch to both man and wolf. When he opened his eyes, it was through the eyes of his wolf eyes that he stared at her, drinking in the sight of her with predatory intent. He nuzzled her hand, taking her scent in deep. He smelt tiger … he smelt his mate.
She was his.
A low growl left him as she retracted her hand, his wolf not happy with being deprived. Stephen said nothing through Cade’s proprietary display, and Cade won
dered if he might be on his way to accepting Cade’s feelings for his sister. Stephen focused on the road ahead, and Cade pressed his nose against the window. He closed his eyes, searching for Phoenix, homing in on him like parent and cub. He let out a growl when his mental radar picked up a blip. God damn it, they needed to take the next turn and Cade couldn’t say so. His growling increased to get their attention.
“Cade?” Gemma frowned.
He pawed at the door in response. Please understand.
“You want me to stop the car?” Stephen asked.
Cade shook his head and growled.
“I think that’s a no.” Gemma looked back at Cade. “You want us to turn that way?” Cade sat back on his haunches, quiet. She turned to Stephen. “Take the next left turn.”
Cade led them like that as they drove, growling when he needed them to turn, silent when they were going the right way. His impatience was heightening, however. God, they needed to be there already. They needed to get to the fucking cub before … before … Cade didn’t want to think about what danger Phoenix might be facing in that very moment. He pushed the awful thought away before his mind lost it in fear.
Cade didn’t know exactly how he knew where Phoenix was, but he just did. Suddenly, it was as if he had climbed into him, see through his eyes. What he saw was darkness and trees. What he could smell was fear.
Stephen hardly had the chance to bring the car to a complete stop in the car park when Cade began to paw at the handle. Gemma reached behind her and opened the door for him. He leapt out, wincing as his sore paws hit the ground, but the pain already seemed less now that he was wolf.
Gemma and Stephen both jumped out of the car simultaneously, but Cade was way ahead of them. Tracking Phoenix’s scent, he loped through the woods. Fucking Trevor—his father’s scent was there, strong, distinct. Why? Why would he do this? Although the question raced through Cade’s mind, he knew the answer … he always knew the answer. Control—plain and simple.
