Wolf's Blood

by Laura Taylor

  Gabrielle, in wolf form, was pacing now, snarling, unhappy with the cage, unhappy with the people staring at her.

  “All right,” Caroline said, reaching for the key and opening the lock. “But this is going to get ugly.” The wolf wheeled around and lunged for her, though the door was still closed, teeth snapping through the bars. “Tank, I’m going to need you to hold her down,” Caroline said automatically, before glancing back at Caleb, and swearing. “Fuck. Sorry. Caleb.” It was yet another disturbance to the Den, Tank the go-to-guy for just about any crisis, and his absence was felt keenly once again. “Caleb. Can you hold her down?”

  Caleb nodded, rising to stand beside Caroline, while Baron and Andre took up flanking positions, just in case she managed to escape from the cage.

  Caroline counted down silently with her fingers, three, two, one, and then in a coordinated rush, she flung the door open, Caleb darted through and tackled the wolf – she was small, but strong, and got her teeth into his arm despite his considerable skills – and then Caroline was on them both, electricity sparking across the cage as she zapped Gabrielle.

  Caleb swore fluently but didn’t let go, and Dee imagined he must feel like he’d just been kicked by a horse, having experienced Caroline’s talents herself on more than one occasion. Gabrielle convulsed and shifted, her body lying prone on the floor, a faint moan coming from her lips.

  “Get back,” Dee ordered, already reaching for Faeydir, feeling for the two halves that needed to be separated. Caroline and Caleb dashed for the door, neither one wanting to be caught up in Faeydir’s potent magic, and with a gut-wrenching twist, Dee yanked at the fabric of the creature’s soul and felt the wolf dislodge, stutter… and fade. Tears pricked her eyes, Faeydir retreating fully, as if wanting to hide from the horrific act.

  Gabrielle lay still on the floor, her hand twitching faintly. “It’s done,” she told Caroline, and the alpha went forward again, put a hand on Gabrielle’s back and shocked her… to no effect.

  Caroline breathed out a sigh. “It’s gone.” She turned to Andre. “She’s all yours now.”

  “I’ll take her upstairs,” Andre said, coming forward to pick the girl up. “Waking up in a cage will just scare her all over again.” He picked her up carefully, supporting her lolling neck against his shoulder, and headed up the stairs.

  “What happens now?” Dee asked, watching Andre go, trying to stop herself from shaking.

  Baron was watching her carefully. “Andre will reassess her, see if she’s fit to be released, and plant a few mild hypnotic suggestions that will help her get over the trauma and reinforce the idea that she shouldn’t talk about this too freely. Something along the lines that a covert police unit took down a covert terrorist cell and talking about the details could harm national security. And possibly earn her jail time.”

  Dee snorted. “So, lies, half-truths and manipulation. Just another day in the office, right?”

  Baron looked mildly amused, a concession that said he knew her complaint wasn’t serious, but he replied to her concerns nonetheless. “She gets to live. And to go free, albeit with some trauma under her belt. A few lies as a price for freedom? That sounds like a fair exchange to me, don’t you think?”

  “Faeydir’s considering pissing on your shoes right now,” she informed him. “Not saying anything will come of it, but you might want to watch where you step for the next few days.”

  Baron let out a laugh, a brief moment to relieve the tension before he had to go and face up to the rest of the Den about what they had just done. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Caleb and Heron followed Baron out of the room, leaving Dee alone with Caroline. She was acutely aware of Mark, still watching from inside his own cage.

  Dee glanced at him, then back at Caroline. “Can I…?”

  “You two can have a chat,” Caroline said. Dee waited, and then realised that Caroline wasn’t going anywhere. She sighed, but made no protest. For all that she would love to be able to talk to him privately, she knew the Den wasn’t about to take the risk that they would try to plot an escape together. She went over to the cage and wasn’t surprised when Mark reached through and took her in a fierce hug. The bars between them were hard and uncomfortable, but Dee wouldn’t have pulled away for all the world.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, not bothering to keep her voice down. Caroline’s hearing was excellent, and for all her harsh persona, Dee was confident that nothing said here would go beyond these walls. Caroline, like the rest of the Den, was very good at keeping secrets.

  “I love you,” Mark replied, kissing her as well as he could with the bars in the way. “And God, I’m so sorry you just had to do that.” It was just like him, to be concerned about her when his own life was the one in danger.

  “It was for the best,” Dee said, trying to convince herself of that very thing. “Like Baron said, Gabrielle gets another chance at life. I’m fine. Really. But what about you?” she insisted.

  The look on Mark’s face all but broke her heart. “I have no regrets,” he said in a whisper. “I love this Den. I love Il Trosa. But finding you was the best thing that’s happened to me since the day I was converted.” He bent down and looked her square in the eye. “No matter what happens, I have no regrets.”

  Dee felt hot tears sliding down her cheeks. “I don’t want you to die.”

  Mark had no reply to that. Instead, he stroked her cheek with trembling hands. “You are strong,” he told her firmly. “You and Faeydir, you both have a long life ahead of you-”

  “Not without you!”

  He tugged her forward and kissed her forehead, then gave her a stern, grim look. “You have the power to destroy this Den. Find it within yourself to love them. No matter what happens to me.”

  Dee felt her blood run cold. When she’d discovered that she was Fenrae-Ul, she’d sworn that she’d never destroy the shifters, never let herself get twisted to the point where revenge was the only option. And she clung to that promise now. Even if Mark died, she told herself firmly, taking her sorrow out on Il Trosa was a betrayal of his memory, his wishes. Even so, the temptation to lash out would no doubt be strong. And she had no idea how Faeydir would react if she lost Mark. The wolf loved him just as much as Dee herself did.

  “Dee?” Caroline snapped from her post a few feet away. “Time to go.”

  “I love you,” she whispered through the bars, stealing one last kiss. And then she forced herself to turn and walk out the door, her heart pounding, her legs shaking. At the doorway, she turned back to take a long look at Mark. And wondered if it would be the last time she ever saw him.

  Andre sat in front of the computer in his bedroom, a secure, encrypted connection set up to Il Trosa’s headquarters in Italy. Four Council members looked back at him from the screen and, he knew, another eight sat alongside them, waiting apprehensively for his latest report. He was certain that none of them were going to like what he had to say.

  “It’s confirmed,” he said, cutting to the chase without even saying good morning. “She is Fenrae-Ul.”

  “She managed to separate the wolf?” asked Amedea, an Italian woman in her forties.

  “She has. Caroline confirmed that the wolf no longer exists in the convert.”

  Thick silence followed as the Council members weighed up the heavy news. Though some of them had been sceptical when first presented with the possibility of Fenrae-Ul’s reincarnation, cold, hard evidence of Dee’s abilities was cause for concern for even the most pragmatic of them.

  “Well, that makes things more complicated,” Feng said finally, an Asian man who had served on the Council for more than ten years. “Particularly when we still have to decide Mark’s fate.”

  “Mark’s situation is complicated,” another Councillor said. “His actions were treasonous, but he did show a marked about-face at the end. Based on what you’ve said, I have little reason to believe his loyalties are still divided.”

  “Whether his loyalties are divid
ed now or not is hardly the question,” another woman interrupted. “His actions were a betrayal against Il Trosa, regardless of the fact that he shot his own sister in the end. He could have put his Den, and our entire species, at significant risk.”

  “Before we get embedded too far in this particular argument,” another voice said, and everyone fell silent as Eleanor, the most senior member of the Council spoke up, “I believe we have a more complex issue that we need to consider. Andre, you mentioned that Fenrae-Ul has a significant romantic attachment to Mark. Correct?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “And let’s leave aside for the moment the fact that Dee herself could be considered to have committed treason by failing to report Mark’s actions to the Den. In the natural course of things, I would consider Mark’s life to be forfeit. Whatever his motivations or intentions, he broke his vow to Il Trosa. But to move against him in any significant way would risk angering the one person who could be considered a more potent threat to Il Trosa than even the Noturatii.” Eleanor looked at the Councillors around her. “Would you seriously consider taking that risk?”

  Silence. And then… “I think such a move would be unwise,” Feng said.

  “Indeed.”

  “But Mark’s actions cannot go unpunished,” another woman said, the youngest member of the Council, a woman in her early forties by the name of Elise. “To do so would risk a revolt right across Europe.”

  “I’m not suggesting we do nothing,” Eleanor clarified. “I’m merely suggesting we might need to take a more tactful approach to the situation than we might otherwise consider.”

  “But what punishment other than death would be considered satisfactory given his crimes?” Feng asked.

  Eleanor looked thoughtful, a wealth of wisdom and knowledge shining out from her wrinkled face. “Here’s what I suggest we do…”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Two days later, Faeydir lay in the grass, her head on Tank’s leg, both of them enjoying the sun for as long as it lasted. Tank had been keeping to himself, aside from Baron and Caroline’s regular visits to his room, but this morning he’d ventured out in wolf form – no doubt to avoid any awkward conversations – and gone to lie under the trees on the lawn. Dee had been inclined to leave him alone, not feeling like she had the right to trespass on his time and space, but Faeydir had had other ideas. After insistently requesting a shift, she’d slunk outside, going to lie in the grass a short distance from the white wolf. And when he hadn’t moved or offered any protest, she’d spent the next hour gradually sliding closer, until they were nose to nose. She’d licked his muzzle tentatively and received a half-hearted lick in return. They’d spent the rest of the afternoon laying in the grass, peaceful and silent, while Dee watched on and wondered where her stubborn, mischievous, argumentative wolf had learned such diplomacy.

  Gabrielle had been returned home, a tense exercise that Alistair had planned down to the finest detail, and Baron and Caroline had executed with precision. They’d had to call in a few favours from their contacts in the police force, mostly to lend some credence to Gabrielle’s belief that the shifters were, in fact, police, but aside from a few sideways glances, there had been no further consequences from the detectives.

  Footsteps on the grass got Faeydir’s attention, and she lifted her head to see Caroline standing a few feet away. “We’d like to see you in the library,” she said, and Faeydir got up with a parting nuzzle to Tank’s leg, obediently following the woman inside. They shifted on the stairs, so that it was Dee who sat down at the table. When she saw Andre sitting there as well, she immediately assumed that a conclusion had finally been reached about Mark’s future, the Council having taken their sweet time over making a decision. And if she was getting a private audience about it, the news could hardly be good.

  But once again, Andre’s first words surprised her. “I’ve finished my assessment of your suitability for life in Il Trosa,” he announced, and Dee sat up straighter, having completely forgotten that that was why he’d been sent here in the first place. She waited in silence, surprised at how much she wanted to stay. It wasn’t just that the alternative was a fast and painless death. It was that she had genuinely come to love these people – Mark’s fate aside – and she’d grown to accept this life, to respect and admire her wolf, and the thought that she might be found wanting was gut wrenchingly disappointing.

  “So…” Andre said, apparently choosing his words carefully. “It’s true. You are the Destroyer.”

  Oh, that didn’t sound good. Dee bit her lip, wondering if she should protest her innocence. Okay, so she could separate wolf from human, but that didn’t mean she was going to set out to end their species.

  “I’ve spoken to the Council at length about your particular manifestations. As far as prophecies go, the Council is not prone to jumping at shadows. But nonetheless, your talents are both unique and dangerous. I personally don’t have much experience as far as prophecies go, but in all the books, it seems that people inadvertently make a prophecy come true by their very act of trying to avoid it. Imagine this,” he went on, seeing her surprised look. “We decide to put you down, but you somehow escape in the attempt – the usual case with ancient prophecies is that nothing goes quite according to plan. So you run away, and we send assassins after you, but you manage to kill them with your unique abilities, and suddenly we have a war on our hands which, if it got out of control, could lead to the destruction of our species, exactly as we’re trying to avoid. Stupid. Completely stupid.

  “So we’re going to take the opposite route – we let you stay, accept you as a member of our family. No harm, no foul, no need to start a war. But,” he went on, “I would strongly recommend that you agree to extra training for your talents. This ability to separate shifters from their other half is powerful, and your wolf, being as independent as she is, makes it unpredictable. The Council would like you to come to Italy for a time. Not right away,” he added, and Dee realised she must have looked quite startled at the idea. “Perhaps next year. For a month. Maybe two. Not just for our curiosity, but for your peace of mind.”

  Dee felt strangely relieved at the suggestion. While being forced to go to Italy under lock and key would have been a scary idea, an open invitation for training was a far more welcome plan. It would be nice to get a better handle on her new abilities, and to understand her wolf better. And if it was only a temporary measure, with her free to return to her Den afterwards, she was willing to consider it. “I’ll keep it in mind,” she told him. “But for right now, I still feel like I’m on a learning curve just with the regular goings on around here. And Faeydir likes it here. I think she wants to spend a little time just enjoying the scenery before we head into more intensive training.”

  Andre smiled. “Fair enough. Now, onto the other matter at hand.” He went to the door, opening it to reveal Caleb and Mark on the other side. With a nod to Caleb, he let Mark into the room, then closed the door, shutting Caleb out.

  Oh boy. Dee glanced at Caroline, who appeared her usual pissed off self, and then at Baron, whose face was carefully neutral. No clues as to the outcome there.

  “I’ve already filled Baron and Caroline in on the Council’s decision. I haven’t told Mark yet, but considering your relationship with him, he’s agreed for you to be here for this discussion.”

  Dee looked up at Mark, who gave her a tight smile and a nod, as he took the seat next to her.

  “It goes without saying,” Andre began, “that your actions were an act of betrayal against Il Trosa. You swore to forsake your natural family, and by merely researching them, never mind planning a one-man assault on a Noturatii lab, you put not just your Den, but your entire species at risk. The fact that your knowledge of the lab assisted greatly with Tank’s rescue and led directly to Dee joining Il Trosa are happy, but not entirely relevant circumstances. The Council views both situations as coincidence, rather than having any redemptive value on your part.”

  Mark sat quiet
ly, no doubt having resigned himself to the very worst outcome, and Dee wanted to yell and scream at him, to protest, to insist that he at least attempt to defend himself. But Andre wasn’t done yet.

  “The one thing that weighs in your favour is something that happened during the raid on the lab.” He fixed Mark with a look of utter bafflement. “You shot your own sister.”

  “I have no sister,” Mark answered immediately. “When I found out that Sarah had completed a biology degree at university, I couldn’t have been prouder. But she’s using that knowledge to work for the Noturatii, to bring about the extinction of the wolf shifters. She may not like what I am, she may hate me for lying to her, but that’s between me and her. But when she comes after my people?” Mark shook his head. “If we ever have the misfortune to meet again, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.”

  Andre stared at Mark intently, no doubt weighing the truth of his words. “I’m glad we’ve reached an understanding about that.” He paused, the silence heavy. “The Council has decided not to put you down,” he announced finally. “But that is not to say your crimes are simply to be forgiven. Your punishment will be as follows: You will be demoted to the rank of omega. You will hold the lowest rank in this Den for a full year, after which time you may resume challenging the other wolves for status, but you may only do so in order of rank. No skipping fights to climb the ranks quicker. You will be permanently excluded from any kind of service to the Council and you are disqualified from ever holding the rank of alpha. Until further notice, whenever you leave this estate, you will do so under escort. You will not be permitted to own a laptop or use a computer unless you are monitored at the time. And you will be branded with a traitor’s mark on your left cheek, forever bearing the shame of this betrayal. Do you understand the conditions of this sentence?”