The Longing of Lone Wolves

by Lana Pecherczyk

  She didn’t want to be like her mother. But what if that was her destiny? All the fight left her, and then her eyes locked onto Rush. “I can’t do it without you. I’m not a good person.”

  “Of course you are.”

  “I’m not!” She turned to Leaf and Thorne, tears now making her vision blur. “I lied to them to get them here! This whole time it’s been you keeping me on the straight and narrow. Not because you’re better than me, but because you make me want to be a better person. The moment you’re gone... I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “Clarke,” he said, all matter of fact. “Everything you’ve done while I’ve known you is good. It was you who guided me.”

  “But you didn’t know me in my past life. What if this new me is the con? Lying to yourself is the greatest con of all.” She wiped her eyes. “Did you know that?”

  “I know you.” He made it to her side just as Kyra held out the letters. She had no idea her brother was approaching at the same time.

  “Read them,” Kyra said. “They’ll explain a lot. The Prime has been very forthright in her letters.”

  But there was no chance to read. There was no chance to blink. Another portal opened behind her, so fast and so bright that heat lanced along her spine. She only had enough time to register the wide, shocked looks on Kyra’s and Rush’s faces, and then she was pulled back into a vortex. A Void.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Clarke tumbled to the ground, rolling across a hard and bumpy surface smelling like broken bracken and leaves. The wind knocked out of her. Half-blind from the portal flash, she couldn’t see except to register the vague outline of trees, sky and shadows milling about. Ringing in her ears deafened her. The smell of ozone she associated with portals was rife in the air.

  This wasn’t Crescent Hollow.

  She spat out dirt and breathed through the pain in her knees, hands, and side of her face. Nausea rolled in her stomach. She kept it down with a few gulps of air.

  The ringing in her ears eased with every breath, but then shouts of battle in her periphery took over.

  Horror locked her muscles. The cages at Crescent Hollow. It had been a trap. But who was the prey? Who was the bait? She blinked a few times, and figures came into focus. Kyra. She must have come through the portal too. She had two scimitars out, slicing, parrying, stabbing, locking and twisting. She plowed through two attackers with the skill and force of any Guardian. But then someone who made her skin crawl turned up.

  Thaddeus. His scar puckered as he scowled at Kyra from behind. That unadulterated contempt in his eyes. Too busy fighting, Kyra was oblivious to the long sharp bone sword dangling from his hand.

  Clarke opened her mouth to warn Kyra, but a croak came out. She coughed and spat out more dirt.

  “Behind you!” she shouted, threw her palm out and pushed air with her power. A gust of wind blew at Thaddeus. It tripped him, knocking him into a tree, but wasn’t enough to do lasting damage.

  Kyra’s fierce gaze caught on Clarke. She paused. And then she shifted. Her face elongated. White fur sprouted over her body. But she wasn’t fast enough. A stag horned fae—the same one she’d seen at the Laughing Den—hit Kyra over the head with a club. She went down and her shift reversed.

  Thaddeus kicked her swords out of the way. “Put her in the cage.” His scarred face turned to Clarke. “And put her in too.”

  Rough arms picked her up from behind. She hadn’t noticed anyone behind her. But now she was coming to her senses, she saw her location clearly. They were in the woods. Unless there was another forest full of spindly spooky trees, and dark shadowy light, it was the Whispering Woods.

  Trees had been lopped around them to make a clearing. There were tents. Fireplaces. Chairs. It was a camp. This was Thaddeus’s hunting party headquarters, and it appeared as though they’d been there for a while. Perhaps months.

  But if he had control of Crescent Hollow, why would he need the subterfuge of a camp in the woods? The obvious answer was to keep secrets. But why would he need to do that?

  “We’re not allowed to play with the other humans we found, but you’re not on the list. It means you’re mine.” That’s what Thaddeus had said to her the first time they’d met. Coupled with how he’d reacted upon seeing her at the barracks, and how he’d been meeting with Bones… it could mean only one thing. They were working with the humans to hunt humans. Ones Thaddeus was prohibited to play with. Humans who could be useful, like Clarke, frozen from her time only to wake in this time with powers.

  If the Prime had schemed and plotted for decades to ensure Clarke was delivered to her, then what would someone else do for another?

  The fae dragged her across the soil. Swaying in the wind, one solitary metal cage hung suspended from a tree branch, five feet from the ground.

  Metal.

  Not wood.

  Metal would block her powers and cut her from accessing the Well. The terror of it dawned on her. Even the cages along the walls at Crescent Hollow were wood. They just raised you high enough to cut your access. But Rush had said those would never work on Guardians. Maybe these metal bars were thicker. Stronger.

  Was this why Thaddeus had met with the Dark Mage and Bones? They wanted cages strong enough to control the most powerful fae in Elphyne.

  She suddenly wished she’d taken that knife from Rush.

  “Get off me.” She kicked out behind her, but a sharp pain gripped her hair, causing her to cry out. She gritted her teeth and pushed fire backward.

  A curse and the stench of smoke meant she’d made her mark, but once again, her power and skill with the elements just wasn’t strong enough.

  Within seconds, she was at the cage and being pushed through. Her head slammed into the metal bars as they shoved her in. Pain spiked at her temple and white spots danced in her vision. Then it was quickly move to the side or be squashed by the dead weight of Kyra’s unconscious body as they shoved her in. Sticky red stained the back of her white hair. Alarmed, Clarke pushed her fingers into Kyra’s carotid, but relaxed when she felt a pulse beating strong. She checked Kyra’s wound. The bleeding had already stopped. Thank God.

  The cage door slammed with a clang.

  And... a feeling switched off in her body. As though an organ had been removed, she felt like she’d had something, and now it was gone. But this displacement was nothing compared to how Kyra faired. She moaned and clutched her head. Sweat broke out on her forehead as she started panting. This was more than the injury.

  For someone born with the power of the Well, being cut from it was far worse. Kyra trembled, shaking all over.

  “Hey,” Clarke whispered and squeezed the female’s arm. “It will be okay.”

  “Now, isn’t that better?” Thaddeus gloated as he locked the gate with a padlock. He put the key in the pocket of his regal embroidered jacket. Much fancier than what he wore last time. He appeared like a high lord, or a member of the royal court. He must expect a visit from someone important. Where her air blast had knocked him into a tree, a small sliver of blood wiped onto his thumb. His face hardened. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with you.”

  He walked away and motioned for the fae who’d shoved her in to follow him. Left alone with Kyra, Clarke tried to comfort her, but she was now out cold. It was probably a blessing. Rush had once said being cut from the Well was like the worst hangover you’d ever experience. The square footage of the space wasn’t big enough for two people. She had to hold her knees to her chest.

  Clarke rested her head between her knees. How did she get into this position? By diving head first without caution. Her mind was awash with all sorts of panicking nonsense. She took a deep, purposeful breath and exhaled. Then she looked up. Her eyes locked with Rush’s.

  He was there.

  But lying prone on the ground, off to the side near a cluster of trees. Clarke pushed her forehead to the bars to see better.

  At the time someone had pulled her through the portal, the rest of the Guardians were
flying off scouting around Crescent Hollow, or had been standing too far away. But Rush had been right next to Kyra, and if she’d come through, then he must have done so by grabbing hold of her.

  No, he wasn’t injured. It was the contact sickness. His face glowed blue. She couldn’t spot an inch of clean skin. Coming through the portal had cost him mana. Maybe all of it.

  His eyes glittered with pain. Wincing, he reached over his back and unleashed Starcleaver. He held it in his hands as though it would ward off the agony.

  “Hold on,” he rasped. “Leaf knows… how to… trace portal.”

  And then he passed out.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  She sensed him before she saw him. It was a shifting of the light composition in the woods. A shadow flitting over the sun. The temperature dropped along one side of her body. But he was neither God nor fae. He was a human in a tailored black business suit. Rose in the breast pocket. Standing by the trees, watching.

  Gray at his temples sliced into the short black hair slicked from his forehead. Shrewd eyes looked out from an unremarkable middle-aged face.

  Now that she’d seen him, and he knew, he moved toward her with a confident stride. Bones followed. No longer in a hooded robe, but wearing a SWAT like tactical outfit. Bulletproof vest. Black fatigues. Guns at his utility belt. Rifle in his hands. He looked like he did back in her time.

  For a moment, Clarke needed to pinch herself. She had this surreal feeling that she’d stepped onto a movie set. They were so displaced. That maybe it was a dream. She rubbed her eyes. When she opened them, the Void stood before her cage, studying her. With the cage suspended, they were eye to eye.

  “Clarke O’Leary,” he said, voice like chills down her spine. “You’ve been a hard lady to find.”

  She said nothing and kept her eyes on him, not on Rush still recovering on the ground not far behind him.

  “Well,” he added with a wry smile. “To be fair, I didn’t know I was looking for you until a few weeks ago. Somehow, you avoided the eyes of my Seer. I’m wondering if she didn’t want the competition.” He shrugged. “I killed her. So I suppose it doesn’t matter now, does it? But now I have an opening for a new psychic.”

  She held her silence. He put his finger on Kyra’s white hair and then cocked his head.

  “Aren’t they strange?” he murmured. “These animals? The more we learn about them, the more it seems to defy logic.”

  His tone suggested he spoke about a bug. Something he could squash beneath his feet or put under a microscope.

  “You know,” he said. “When I first awoke in this time and found this new evolution of homo sapiens, at first I was furious. I’d worked my entire life on a plan only to see it turn out differently. They weren’t supposed to be here. It was meant to be the humans I’d prepared to live in a bunker, and I was supposed to be their king.” He curled a strand of white hair around his finger. “These beasts were living on the land that should have been mine. They ate me out of house and home.” He burst out laughing. Like a maniac. But when he came down, the humor had left his eyes. “I was their father. Their creator. If it weren’t for me, none of this new evolution would exist. But just like children, there’s always a use for the naughty ones.”

  He tugged on the hair and snapped it off Kyra’s head. She cried out. Clarke reached out to soothe her.

  And the Void watched it all with unbridled curiosity.

  “You like these savages,” he said. “You actually identify with them.”

  She lifted her chin. “From where I’m sitting, the savages are outside the cage.”

  Something flickered in his gaze, but then he stood back. “When I learned I had been gifted with some”—he looked at his hands—“abilities like these animals, I was pleasantly surprised. I was even happier to learn that this substance from their so-called magic Well of life kept me from aging. It also gave me incredible powers. On the outside, I looked the same, but inside was just as powerful as these immortal fae gods the new human settlement feared. It was so disappointing to see how regressed humans had become. Especially when I left such a detailed plan to keep them thriving.” He sighed. “But, I’m a patient man. It was easy to spin a tale about being lost in the wilderness. It was even easier to convince them to install me as their leader and make them forget I didn’t age, not like them. But the longer I stayed there, the more I learned of their fear for these beasts you so love. You know they’d tried to take Elphyne once and miserably failed.” He shot Clarke a shark-like grin. “But they didn’t have me. Or you.”

  “I’ll never work for you.”

  He laughed. “Oh, we both know that’s not true, don’t we?”

  He gestured to Bones, who left the campsite and came back with Thaddeus. He opened the cage and dragged Kyra out. And then Bones shut the gate, leaving Clarke still inside. She reached through the gaps in the bars.

  The Void locked eyes with her. “You’ve always just needed the right motivation.”

  Tugging on the cuffs of his suit, he walked back a few steps to where Bones had retrieved him a chair. He sat down and waited.

  For what?

  Thaddeus pushed Kyra to her knees. She snarled and tried to shift. But the Void made a gesture in the air. Bones lifted his rifle, sighted, changed his mind and then pulled out a handgun from the holster on his hip. He pointed and then squeezed the trigger. A bullet ripped into Kyra’s shoulder. She jerked, hit. Her shift halted mid-turn, leaving her face frozen in a state of flux. Half-wolf, half-fae. She was something between and howling in pain.

  “You bastard!” Clarke shouted and rattled the cage. “Leave her alone.”

  “Oh, but it’s so entertaining. Tell me what you see, Clarke.” He gestured at Kyra. “Is that something you can identify with?”

  “You’re cruel. You’re a cruel monster and you need to be exterminated.”

  “No. I’m a visionary.” He tapped his temple. “They think they are ruled by some god of the earth, but we know better from our time, don’t we? We are the gods. The fae existed once before in our time, but we got rid of them then. We can get rid of them now.”

  Kyra howled again, but Thaddeus pulled her head back by the segmented ponytail.

  “How can you side with them?” Clarke shouted. “How can you do this to your own kind?”

  Unguarded hatred and ego spilled out of Thaddeus’s narrowed gaze. “My kind are stupid. They let the Order of the Well dictate how they live their life, but it’s all been a lie. We need not follow their rules to be powerful. I make my own.” He pushed his thumb on Kyra’s wound. “No exit wound. The metal inside her prohibits the shift.”

  Clarke gasped. “That’s why you’re working with the humans. You want the weapons so you can take over Elphyne.”

  Thaddeus laughed, and the two humans smiled. The Void looked at Clarke. “Why bother with taking over Elphyne when you can let them destroy themselves?”

  Attack themselves?

  The White Woman. The drained Satyr. There were probably more.

  “You’re the one who’s been making it look like Unseelie are attacking out of their territory.”

  Bones pulled a glass canister from his belt. It reminded Clarke of the one Rush had used to catch manabeeze. And when Bones walked toward Kyra, Clarke’s heart stopped.

  “No,” she gasped. Don’t you dare.

  But he didn’t slice her throat like a warada. He handed the canister to Thaddeus and pulled out a glass syringe, sloshing with metal in the tube. He depressed the needle, testing the pressure, and then jabbed Kyra in the neck.

  Liquid metal injected into her veins and she screamed in agony.

  “You see what’s happening, Clarke?” the Void asked, fascinated. “With iron in her system, and the magic’s aversion to the substance, the life force has to go somewhere. It’s being forced out.” He lifted his palms. “There’s nothing special about it. Just science.”

  Little balls of light popped out of Kyra’s chest. Thaddeus held the ca
nister and trapped them as they escaped.

  “Stop!” Clarke shouted. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just let her go.”

  The Void nodded and Bones pulled the syringe out of Kyra’s neck. The light stopped leaving her body, and Thaddeus screwed the cap on the glass canister. He handed it to the Void, who opened it and drank the contents. Light moved from inside his throat to his chest and then dispersed. Within moments, his pupils contracted. Every aspect of his body language projected bliss. It was like seeing a junkie take a hit. And then other changes happened. The color on his cheeks brightened, the lines on either side of his eyes lessened, and the gray in his hair disappeared altogether. He’d grown younger. He made a satisfied sound and patted his stomach. “Not purified, but I’m sure I’ll manage a few memories of a measly female wolf.”

  “You will destroy the world,” Clarke ground out. “I’ve seen it.”

  “No, Clarke. You must be mistaken. I will save it,” he drawled.

  She sat back in the cage and shook her head. He was deluded. Completely unaware that his actions would have devastating consequences. For him. The world. One day, there would be a painful reckoning for him. And she looked forward to being the one to show him the truth. The Prime’s machinations made sense. She had told Clarke that truth could be a weapon and now Clarke was finally seeing the possibilities. One day it would come down to Clarke and the Void. Truth against delusion.

  “Until then,” the Void said, as though he’d read her mind. “I promised Thaddeus here that he could play with you.” Then he turned to Thaddeus. “A psychic needs to keep use of her mouth, otherwise she can’t speak the future. So just… you know, stay away from that area. Understood?”

  Thaddeus nodded, evil eyes never leaving Clarke.

  “Good. And when you’re done, collect the last remaining mana from the she-wolf. She was tasty. There will be more people Clarke loves coming soon. More we can torture.”