by Reese Morgan
Neutral….
“You sound like Julian Crow,” Hayden spoke softly, a hint of loathing in her tone. “Pathetic and cowardly. You have assets and you have great skill. But instead of using them, you’d rather sit on your hands?”
“Hayden,” Cole said warningly.
She pressed her lips together, staring at Nicolas’ turned cheek. His silence only fueled her. “Who knows what the Hunters have decided. They could be out hunting every single werewolf they find, no matter if it’s a traditional wolf or a rogue. And the humans are still learning of our kind. Things could go into complete chaos.”
Nicolas stirred dangerously. “What you have just described, my dear, is complete chaos. I have already told you that Celeste has won. It is no longer about winning, but of survival. The traditional wolves will not see it that way. They will shed blood of every last noble werewolf in hopes of achieving something they cannot have.”
“I remember you saying that,” she said, her voice still a leveled calm. “But I also remember you saying that we must cut off the head of the beast. The beast is Celeste.” Hayden lifted her chin as Nicolas glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “And you’re still going to be neutral?”
“Yes.”
Hayden sat back, disappointed. “My opinion of you just dropped considerably.”
Nicolas actually turned in his seat and stared at her, his pale eyes piercing straight through her. “It should have never been so high in the first place.”
He was trying to return to the sinister rogue Alpha everyone feared. But that wasn’t right, she corrected herself. He had never changed. He’d just opened up enough to allow Hayden a glimpse of what was underneath.
But a glimpse was all she’d ever get.
“Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and their own agenda.” Cole easily slipped into the reprimanding role. “Even if you do not agree, Hayden, its best you keep it to yourself.”
Hayden scoffed, but said nothing. Cole had been guilty of doing the same thing many times before. She wouldn’t argue, though, knowing when she’d pushed too far.
It was frustrating to hear of Nicolas’ cowardice. He had a direct hand in Celeste’s victory. They were fighting for their lives because of Nicolas’ involvement. The least he could do was attempt to atone his wrongdoings.
Nevertheless, as soon as Cole returned safely to the pack, Nicolas would disappear. Hayden had no doubt about that.
The truck suddenly swerved as Nicolas pulled to the side of the road. A sheet of ice possessed more emotion than his chilly stare.
“We should rest and eat.”
Without waiting for a general agreement, the eldest Slayter exited the truck. She watched as he smoothly made his way down into the ditch and into the surrounding evergreens.
A part of her wondered if he would even come back.
“I’m not going to apologize,” she informed Cole stubbornly. “If that’s what you were going to convince me of.”
Cole exhaled at her obstinacy. “I’ve come to accept your outspoken ways, Hayden. I’m not going to ask you to apologize for them.” He opened the truck door, letting in a blast of cold air. “At any rate, I couldn’t agree with you more.”
“About Nicolas?”
He nodded once. “It’s not our place to make him come back. The other werewolves wouldn’t appreciate his presence. I’d imagine even a few would try to eliminate him for the trouble he’s caused.”
She hadn’t thought of that. She should have thought of that. Yet it still didn’t change her opinion of Nicolas’ neutrality.
Cole exited the truck, waiting for Hayden to join him. As she planted her boots into the snow, she couldn’t help but to feel like she was back home. They’d passed the direction of Albertville quite a distance back, reminding her of when the chaos all began.
“Have you adjusted yet?” Cole asked. “About your father?”
The question jarred her.
“No,” she answered stiffly, “I’ve been trying to forget it as much as possible.”
Cole absorbed her response. “Despite how easy it is to practice, avoidance isn’t nearly as effective as you’d expect, Hayden.”
Her immediate response was to argue, but she stopped short, remembering just why they were on this hunt to begin with. Cole had his own issues with his father. He knew exactly what Hayden was going through.
If anyone could give her advice and truly understand her situation, it would be him.
“Logan is your father. Despite his past misdeeds, you should be proud of your lineage. It’s a very strong line that dates back.”
She looked sideways at him. “Depending on what you find out about Xavier, will you still be proud of him? It’s hard to imagine our… fathers doing anything honorable after finding that chamber in the basement of Logan’s business.”
He was silent for a moment, mulling over her question. “He was still my father and a good man to his family and pack. That’s what I will remember of him. What matters now is finding out his wrongs and trying to correct them.”
It was hard enough finding out that Kevin Grey was also Logan Crow. Hayden hadn’t even begun to connect the fact that Logan’s wrongdoings were also her father’s sins. Logan was an entirely different man in her eyes. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to combine the two entities as one.
“Finding out about your father does answer many questions.” The male Alpha seemed amused at something, lost in his own mind at her expense.
“Maybe,” she conceded, thinking primarily of her transition as werewolf, and Celeste’s steadfast interest. “But it also brings up more questions.”
Like why Celeste hadn’t killed her in the first place.
“Questions that may never be answered,” he agreed solemnly. “Lately, I’ve realized that my father and his questionable acts don’t reflect back on me. I am my own person, just as you are, Hayden.”
He offered a small smile and reached over to stroke her cheek. “I never have expressed my admiration in your abilities. You truly are a woman of great talents.”
Hayden curled her hand over his, squeezing it. It meant a lot to hear it from Cole, simply because he’d been the reason behind her insistence to learn how to fight. She admired him, she wanted to stand proudly at his side.
“Thank you.”
He kissed her knuckles. “Come. Let’s go hunt for food. I don’t think Nicolas will be inclined to share today.”
Hayden smiled briefly, but frowned a moment later. As she began to unfasten her clothes in preparation of shifting into her canine form, she glanced around the trees, her mind subconsciously centering on Nicolas.
* * * *
“At least it’s not a tavern this time,” Hayden commented dryly as they rolled to a stop in front of a secluded house. “Although… I think I’d take the tavern in this case.”
The seclusion wasn’t unusual. It was typical for werewolves to surround themselves with miles of trees as opposed to hundreds of people. But she hadn’t expected a small bungalow-style home, in poor condition, to be their last stop.
“Didn’t you say this was your father’s old cabin?” she persisted.
Nicolas glanced at her coolly from over his shoulder. If looks could kill, she’d be six feet under. Apparently, he wasn’t impressed with her chattiness and found no reason to respond to her.
“Our father had the cabin before I was born. I believe he used to take Nicolas up here when he was younger.” Cole looked pointedly at Hayden, ignoring the brooding darkness next to him. “Obviously, he never got rid of it like he claimed he did.”
She surveyed the home through the windshield. There were no lights on through the windows that suggested Troy Arnold’s presence. In all ways, the home looked abandoned. Roof shingles curled, paint peeled, and the upstairs window was shattered.
“I can see its potential,” she commented dryly.
After shutting off the truck, Nicolas exited first. Hayden scrambled out after him, immediatel
y scrunching her nose at the odd smell. Their surroundings smelt a bit like decaying wood, mildew, and… something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
Death? Dead animals?
The trio moved silently over the snow-covered grounds, cloaked in a tense air of anxiety. Hayden moved alongside Cole, glancing despairingly at the back of Nicolas’ head. It was incredibly impressive how quickly the man could shut down and return to his soldier-like countenance.
As they closed in on the house, Cole chose to approach the front door while Nicolas wandered around the perimeter, glancing into the dark windows.
Standing with her hands in her back pockets, Hayden eyed the thick cobwebs in the corners of the door and held her breath. She strained her ears, hoping for any sign of rustling coming from inside.
Only deafening silence greeted her.
She hadn’t expected anything to come out of this lead, yet she couldn’t help but to feel a bit disappointed. Next to her, Cole raised his fist to knock, attempting one last effort to rouse whomever was inside.
“Wait,” Nicolas ordered before Cole’s knuckles descended. “Let’s go inside. Silently.”
The cold male swept past them and twisted the handle. Astonishingly, the front door opened without struggle, but with plenty of sound. The hinges squealed in protest, ruining any chance at a surprise entrance.
She doubted anyone was inside. This was just another dead-end, a desolate place where they would only find old relics and draw incomplete assumptions from the ghostly memories left behind.
As they stepped inside the foyer, the sole of her boot caught a loose floorboard, causing it to creak loudly. Nicolas turned and offered her an apathetic look.
“It’s not like you made a quiet entrance,” she hissed.
“Silence,” he ordered.
Cole curled a hand around the nape of her neck, squeezing it reassuringly. Her shoulders loosened at the touch and her frustration eased. She didn’t understand why they needed to be quiet in the first place, especially if they wanted to find Troy for answers.
They ventured further into the house, the style typical of a bungalow built back in the late twenties. Quite a bit of dust and cobwebs claimed the corners and woodwork, but it wasn’t as run down as she’d imagined from the exterior.
As she turned into the kitchen, she spied the coffee mug sitting next to the half-empty coffee pot. Hayden sniffed, smelling the faint aroma of coffee grounds. It was still fresh enough to alert her that there was still someone inside the house.
Lights flooded the kitchen as soon as the thought occurred to her.
Whirling around, she spied a werewolf standing in the entrance, a pistol in hand. Cole immediately moved to shield her view, his broad body easily protecting her from any immediate harm.
“Who the hell are you?”
She peered at the stranger from around Cole, noticing his insanely bushy beard and his dark, squinty eyes. He had pale brows and even paler lashes, accentuating the mole-like quality to his eyes. Despite his unique appearance, she was impressed with his ability to sneak up on Nicolas unannounced.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he grunted, lowering his weapon. “The Slayter boys. And you’re even hiding a Crow at your back.”
Hayden grimaced, wondering how it was possible for him to identify her as Logan’s daughter. Surely their similarities weren’t that noticeable.
“I can smell a Crow from a mile away, girl,” the man boasted, as if reading her doubts. “At any rate, you’re the first female in that line for generations. Not impossible to pick up on his daughter.”
Cole looked down at her and gradually stepped aside. She found herself under the full scrutiny of the stranger. As she met his evaluating gaze, she remembered what Marcus had said about this man, this Troy Arnold.
He didn’t like females. The slight curve to his lip suggested otherwise.
“Blonde and lanky, just like the rest of them.” He chuckled. “Stubborn eyes to boot.”
“You’re Troy?” Hayden asked, only because she didn’t know how else to respond.
The man, Troy, grinned toothily, revealing a set of yellow teeth that would rival Fergus’ own. “What gave it away? I presume you’re Hayden.” He ran a hand down his chest-length beard. “Traveling with the brawn and no-brained Slayters, I see. Logan would have a fit if he knew.”
Her eyebrows rose at the bold insult, though his wide grin suggested he wasn’t entirely serious. However, as he looked in Nicolas’ direction, his grin faltered just slightly.
“It’s a pleasure,” Nicolas drawled in greeting, sounding anything but approachable. “I’m afraid we didn’t come for a social visit, but rather for answers.”
Troy heaved a weary sigh and leaned his back against the doorframe to the kitchen. He surveyed each of them individually, gradually becoming forlorn. “I expected as much. I will answer any of your questions as long as it helps you find Logan.”
Shock stiffened Hayden’s limbs.
“Find him?” she repeated frantically. “What do you mean find him?”
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? After his disappearance, I tried to make myself scarce. Celeste seized control of our operations. She’s made a mess out of—”
“Logan Crow was murdered,” Nicolas interrupted.
Troy sneered. “If Celeste is still walking and breathing, I find Logan’s death highly unlikely. She’s taken him somewhere, I’m sure of it.”
Hayden stared, trying to make sense of his words. It wasn’t long before the pieces connected. “They’re life mates,” she stated dully. “That… I… They are…”
The werewolf grunted, acknowledging her speechlessness. “That little blond spawn, what’s the boy’s name? Julian! He’s physical proof of their union. For the longest time, Logan refused to finalize his bond with Celeste. I don’t blame the man… not only was she disagreeable, but it’s a fragile and tricky situation.”
His mole-like eyes pinned Nicolas with a hard stare.
“There are more life mates out there than you’d think. The werewolf community spouts tales of life mates as if it’s some fanatical chance of fate. But in actuality, the secrecy is used to prevent slimy cowards, like yourself, to take advantage of their vulnerability.”
Hayden sensed the tension in the room as Troy spoke specifically about Xavier and his life mate, Marie. His mother’s blood would always stain Nicolas’ hands, and his reputation. Yet, one look in his direction made Hayden realize that he just didn’t care.
“From what we’ve heard, Logan and Celeste were always at odds.” Cole stepped next to Hayden. “He even lived a second life with another woman, another child. If that were the case, don’t you think it possible Celeste would have survived his death?”
“Based on what?” Troy grumbled. “Infidelity? An unhappy female? Like those situations don’t happen often. They were life mates, boy. It doesn’t matter how perfect or imperfect their relationship. Neither can live if the other dies. Don’t let her blasé nature fool you. Celeste adored Logan.”
“She must have adored you as well,” Hayden observed. “You’re still alive. And considering you’re the last person alive to know about her true relationship with Logan must mean she respected you a great deal.”
Troy sneered at the mere mention of Celeste admiring him.
He pushed off from the doorframe and prowled toward the sink. “Frankly, I don’t know why she’s kept me alive this long. I keep waiting, knowing each day I’m alive is because she wills it to be another day.”
He pulled out a half-empty bottle of clear liquid and unstopped the cork at the top. Hayden smelt the strong, potent scent of moonshine. She watched as he poured a generous amount into a dirty glass and swigged it down in one gulp.
He didn’t even pull a face, but simply poured himself another glass.
“I was against her participation in the first place,” Troy continued, the bite in his tone loosening slightly. “Xavier and Logan were good friends. They were… ver
y influential Alpha men with brilliant minds. They both had good ideals. Very traditional ideals, but good ones.”
Hayden blinked when the man presented her with the glass. The smell tickled the hairs on the inside of her nose, nearly causing them to curl.
“You’ve grown up wonderfully. I can see you keep these two boys in line. Your father… he loved you very much. Talked about you all the time.” Troy nudged the glass in her direction. “Have some hooch, girl.”
His words struck a chord within Hayden. For all his redneck-like slurs and his rough exterior, she couldn’t help but to like the man. She accepted the glass and held her breath, trying to swallow as much as she could in one go.
Her face contorted painfully as the liquid burned down her throat. Her initial reaction was to splutter and cough, yet somehow, she managed to keep that urge muffled.
Troy guffawed, impressed. “That’ll put hair on your chest, eh!?”
He took back the glass and poured another round. She watched him keenly, feeling her limbs relax and her senses slow just a tad. She knew alcohol didn’t have a long effect on werewolves, but she didn’t know the effects of pure, hard alcohol.
“You said you didn’t want Celeste to join you,” she hinted, feeling Nicolas stir restlessly behind her. “What were you and our fathers doing?”
Distinctively, she wondered when she felt comfortable enough to address Logan as her father. Never. She assumed she’d said it out of convenience.
“As I said before, Logan and Xavier had good minds. They were traditional to boot, though. Most of their ideas were met with some resistance, especially from the more modern Lycans.” He sat upon the counter, pressing a possessive hand on top his moonshine. “We killed a great deal of werewolves. You’re standing on top a mass burial.”
Hayden’s eyes widened and she looked at Cole and Nicolas. They weren’t as outwardly surprised, yet she knew they weren’t prepared for the announcement.
“What were your intentions?” Cole pressed.
“I think you three are old enough to deal with the truth. What Logan and Xavier intended was of good intentions, but terrible consequences.” He looked above Cole’s head, peering somewhere far off in time. “Logan had an idea. He wanted to eliminate rogues for good.”
