by Amira Rain
“That was…an interesting story,” Mary-Lou offered after a moment of confused silence.
“We bonded,” Jonas blurted out in response; Mary-Lou stiffened.
“You are joking,” she said, “Please tell me you are joking.”
“I bit you,” Jonas mumbled, shame-faced, “last night – I bit you, and I am sorry, I know you don’t feel the same and I had no right—” he stumbled over his words, and Mary-Lou would have found it endearing had the topic been less horrifying.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” she snapped; Jonas winced, “Sorry doesn’t fix it! What now? I am mated to you? Just like that? What does that even mean—!”
“Nothing!” Jonas hurried to say, “It doesn’t have to mean anything to you, not if you do not want it to. And nothing will change – I already promised to protect you, to care for you,” he shook his head, “Nothing has to change.”
Mary-Lou deflated at the sight of Jonas’ miserable face. She was angry – extremely so, and with a very good reason! But anger would not fix this, either, and at least Jonas was trying. She moved closer to the blonde man, meaning to reassure him, tell him her feelings were not the problem.
She never got the chance, as the door to her room slammed open and a whole new world of wrong tumbled inside.
“It’s your parents,” Cara panted, red with exertion, “They’ve got your parents.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Who?” Mary-Lou demanded as she raced down the stairs, Jonas close behind. Anger fueled her exhausted body even as cold, bitter fear curled in her chest.
“That asshole, Wiley,” Cara bit out. She jumped the last few steps to the main floor, turning to face Mary-Lou as she gestured to the front of the house, “Ambushed them as they were making their way over here. Don’t know how he and his pack of dogs figured out we were moving them today – even you weren’t told!”
“What happened to their guards?” Mary-Lou growled as she stalked forward, anger tinting her vision black, “To the people who were to keep them safe?”
“We failed.”
Mary-Lou halted, eyes wide as her mind attempted to reconcile the familiar sight of Katy and Jenna within her surroundings. The two women were curled against each other on the couch, each heavily bruised and covered in blood-stained bandages. Jenna’s right eye was swollen shut, Katy’s nose crooked and lip bleeding sluggishly down her chin. Both lowered their heads as Mary-Lou stepped closer.
“What,” Mary-Lou croaked, “What are you – you are Shifters? Both of you?”
“Yep,” Katy answered, voice lacking its usual pep. “We’ve been guarding you for a long time now, pup.”
“B-but you work at the Center!” Mary-Lou exclaimed, “And you hate each other!”
“A cover,” Jenna muttered. “We couldn’t have it so we shared too many shifts; at least one of us had to be off when you were off,” Katy explained.
“They are actually bonded,” Cara whispered; Irma swatted her head as she entered the room, carrying yet more bandages and several bottles of pills.
“Not important right now,” she snapped, then turned to address the battered duo. “I trust you won’t bleed to death by the time we make it back?” the two women nodded and Irma snarled, “Good. The rest of you – with me. We are leaving now. Mary-Lou, you are free to stay behind.”
“Like hell,” Mary-Lou growled.
Irma nodded, unsurprised. “The idiots have camped a few miles from here,” she explained as she walked them out of the living room, “Their arrogance will be their undoing.”
Irma led them out and to the front of the Cabin, where Jonathon, Sasha, and old Nicholas waited. Anger crackled like a live cable among them, a desire for motion and violence – they shot off as soon as Irma gave the signal, becoming blurs then dust on the wind. Mary-Lou made no sound of protest when Jonas picked her up, held onto her tightly as her surroundings swirled out of existence
.
When the world appeared again, it was dark and heavy with the smell of rotting vegetation. Irma and Jonathon stood at the very front, flanked by Sasha and Nicholas on either side. Cara crouched just beside Mary-Lou, form tense as she scanned their surroundings. They were deep into the forest, deeper than a normal person would dare go – and they were not alone.
“In the trees,” Irma whispered to Sasha. She then threw her head back and roared.
“WILEY,” she called. “SHOW YOURSELF, COWARD!”
The forest fell silent, the buzz of birds and bugs disappearing in the wake of her anger.
“You dare call me a coward?” a low, growling voice answered. Wiley stepped forward from the dusk of the surrounding trees, hair and eyes wild. “You, who have birthed a mongrel and lived among humans? You, who has exposed our people to weakness and persecution? HA!” He bared his teeth in an ugly grin.
“Where are they,” Irma demanded. Jonathon growled beside her, body trembling with barely-contained violence.
“The sorry sacks of human flesh?” Wiley smirked, “Here and there. Soon to be nowhere at all,” he pointed toward the sky and laughed, the sound hacking and ugly.
“You son of a bitch!” Mary-Lou screamed. She shook off Jonas’ hands and pushed her way to the front, eyes poison-green with her anger. “You call me a mongrel, but what are you? A sorry cur, a beaten dog without worth or sense.” She stood facing him, trembling with cold, powerful anger. “Let them go,” she hissed, “Or I will tear you apart.”
Wiley stumbled backwards, face paling with terror for a disjointed second. He collected himself a moment later, managed to summon some of his previous swagger. “Oh, but I will enjoy gnawing on your bones,” he promised and let out a low, thin whistle.
Jonas jumped to Mary-Lou’s side just as Wiley charged, the two men clashing with a resounding smack. Similar chaos ranged around her as large men and powerful women fell upon them, each more animal than human. Mary-Lou watched as Irma shook into her tiger form and tackled a large hog, watched Jonathon swipe long claws into the stomach of a growling mountain cat. Sasha glistened white-green as he flickered between human and a large, white snake, poison dripping about his snapping teeth. He fought back to back with a determined Cara, the soft red ears flickering atop the fox-Shifter’s head catching the sound of blows before they struck. Mary-Lou watched and felt small, felt useless and afraid – not for herself, but for her family, the pack that fought to protect her but was steadily, surely being overcome.
Jonas roared and Mary-Lou felt phantom pain eat at her side, terrible and sudden. She snapped her eyes to where the man had stood, finding a powerful, golden-maned lion straining against the teeth of a heavily-muscled wolf. This was Jonas’s Form, she realized – the Other she had not yet seen, had had no chance to meet – and he was in pain.
The cold feeling that had weighted Mary-Lou’s chest as she faced Wiley disappeared, to be replaced by a flood of warmth, of power. Mary-Lou trembled with it, shook as it seeped in her flesh and spilled from her skin in the form of soft, golden light. The sounds of the fight, the sight of the forest dimmed as the light spread – in a blink, it blanketed all, clean and light.
The next thing Mary-Lou saw was Jonas’ face. “Mary-Lou!” he called, had been calling for a while now judging by the rising concern in his voice. A bruise bloomed on his cheek, a bite bled awfully about his left bicep, yet his focus was entirely on her – Mary-Lou laughed brokenly and kissed him, quick and chaste.
“I’m glad,” she whispered, “That you are my mate. That I am yours. I am glad.”
Jonas looked back at Mary-Lou, momentarily stricken, before he crushed her to his chest.
“Is she okay?” Cara asked from somewhere nearby. She sounded young and tired – Mary-Lou pushed weakly at Jonas’ chest, anxiety gripping her heart as she remembered exactly where she was.
“I’m fine,” Mary-Lou rumbled, voice muffled by Jonas’ shirt, “I’m fine- let me go, I have to see—”
“We are fine, too,” Cara soothed. “Everyone is fine, thanks to
you.”
“What?” Jonas finally released her and Mary-Lou blinked darkness away, tried to focus on the forest and its occupants. “Where is Wiley? The others?”
“Unconscious.” Jonas said. “Whatever you did, whatever that light was – it knocked them out, to the last one. We are trying to figure out how to carry them back.”
“To the Cabin?” Mary-Lou exclaimed, “Why would we do that?”
“Irma wants to hold Court,” Cara explained. “She’s sent a word out that you are to speak. People will come – powerful people, better equipped than us to handle so many troublemakers.” Mary-Lou shook her head, still confused but unwilling to spend a moment more discussing a topic other than the one which most concerned her.
“My parents?” she urged, eyes sweeping from Cara to Jonas, “Where are my parents?”
“Irma is over there—” Cara began; Jonas shook his head and quickly continued, “Emma and Ronald are safe. Jonathon and Sasha got them back to the Cabin first thing. They are a bit bruised and scared, but that is all.” Mary-Lou let out a relieved breath, the last of the worry that had tightened her chest disappearing.
“I want to see them,” she said, but stayed Jonas as he tried to pick her up, “What about them?”
A dozen or so men and women lay upon the forest floor. They had reverted back to their human forms upon losing consciousness; the sight of twelve still bodies was quite disconcerting.
“Don’t worry,” Cara grinned, successfully distracting Mary-Lou from the disturbing sight all around her. “Help is coming. You go ahead – I will meet you as soon as we are done here.”
Jonas decided that they had tarried enough and took off in a run before Mary-Lou could ask who was coming, before she could demand Cara come with them. The chorus of howls that echoed in the distance as they sped away was an answer enough; the cavalry had arrived.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mary-Lou held onto her mother tightly.
Hours had passed since the harried rescue mission, hours since Jonas had taken her back home. Mary-Lou had nearly collapsed with relief at the sight of Emma and Ronald – tired, covered in muck and leaves, but alive – sitting around the kitchen table, Irma and Jonathon hovering protectively on each side.
“Mary-Lou!” Emma had exclaimed, worry quickly stiffening her body, “Are you feeling well, dear?”
Wordless at the woman’s kindness, Mary-Lou had simply walked over and enveloped her in a hug.
Now, they lounged against one of the huge, plush sofas that furnished the den. Mary-Lou wondered if she was picking up her Shifter friends’ habits as she snuggled closer to her mother and father, contentment washing the last of her pain away.
Sadly, it was not to last. Irma had been coming in and out of the room, speaking softly into the mobile pressed against her ear even as she directed what looked like a small army of wolf Shifters in carrying the bodies of their less-pleasant, unconscious kin to the training area behind the house. They had been especially vicious with Wiley’s limp form, probably due to his own wolf heritage; Mary-Lou had winced, almost sympathetic, as she watched a bored-looking woman of about sixty drag the unconscious man up the front steps of the Cabin, through the living room, and down the steps in the back. Wiley’s head had made a most terrible thwack-thwack sound as it bounced against stone and wood and granite, in turns.
Jonathon and Sasha were welcoming a very different kind of guests at the rear of the house. Strange noises and thudding steps marked the arrival of every new Shifter. Ironically, the few who had elected to drive up to the Cabin garnered more attention: Three Lamborghinis and a Bugatti were now parked in front of the wooden house, black tires half-sunk in dirt and flowers. Jonathon had been most annoyed, but there was little else to be done in the absence of a proper parking lot.
In the meantime, Cara played both nurse and guardian to the injured portion of the pack. It was not an easy task, what with all the commotion and her patients’ own prickly personalities. Katy threw a right fit at having to listen to a younger girl – and an omega, at that! – at first, but a deathly glare from Jenna and a jab or two of Cara’s sharp claws had her docile enough as Cara stitched up her lip. The two women now rested not far away from Mary-Lou and her parents, half-asleep with exhaustion and a triple dose of pain medications.
Jonas sat on the floor by Mary-Lou’s feet, muscles stiff and eyes vigilant. Adrenaline was still thrumming in his body, animal side left unsatisfied at the fight’s rather sudden resolution. “He threatened you,” Jonas had explained when Mary-Lou tried to ease him into calm, nearly bristling under her hands, “He threatened our family, and he is still alive. He is still a threat.” At that point, Mary-Lou had to forcibly push Jonas down and cage his body between her thighs and the couch. She was unwilling to allow any more unnecessary violence, no matter how deserved it might be.
“Attention, everyone,” Irma called out as she stepped into the living room. She had changed from her torn-up tank and jeans into a sharp dress-suit, her wild curls tamed in a tight ponytail. “We begin in two hours. Get ready.”
“Begin?” Mary-Lou dipped her head to look inquiringly at Jonas, “What is happening?”
“Irma has called Court,” Jonas answered. “Those within hearing distance answered, as tradition dictates.”
“Meaning?” Mary-Lou prompted.
“Meaning there are about a thousand curious people out there,” Katy groaned from her sprawled position, “Waiting to see ya. And let me tell you, not all of them are happy campers.”
“What?!” Mary-Lou exclaimed, and Jenna swatted at Katy’s head with a muttered, “Stop freaking the poor child out.”
To Mary-Lou, she said, “They are not here to see you, precisely. I do believe that Irma wants to use the opportunity to introduce you formally.”
“Why do I need to be introduced?” Mary-Lou asked. She was met by six incredulous gazes, her parent’s included. “Fine, okay, I get it. But why now?”
“When else?” Cara groaned. “Now come here and let me put make-up on you.”
Mary-Lou did, more out of confusion than anything else.
Night had fallen, deep and complete. The woods were much too-still about the structure of the Cabin – the animals within quiet in the presence of so many powerful predators.
And they were many.
A great, green field stretched behind the Cabin. It ran for many yards down, enclosed by a line of sturdy trees on three sides, the Cabin on the fourth. When the weather was good, Irma and Jonathon entertained friends in the open space – with picnics and music, the occasional outdoor movie screening. No matter how many people they invited, there was always room for at least three times as many.
Tonight, there was barely space to breathe.
A crowd stood, silent and expectant, beneath the open skies. A multitude of people, a sea of glistening eyes and impassive faces all waiting, patiently, for the time of talk to come.
Jonathon had lit the lights on the raised veranda, providing both the stage and sole lighting for the event. The electric warmth did not reach farther than the first two rows of guests; the rest were cast in darkness.
Mary-Lou thought about that, about the anonymity and intimacy of the event. She wondered if it was by design, wondered if those who wished her family well lurked within the shadows or stood, arrogant and vicious, near the stage.
Behind the glass door of the veranda, Mary-Lou watched as Irma made her way to the center of the porch. A quiet murmur rose within the crowd, only to fall back to silence as the older woman spoke.
“Thank you for coming, brothers and sisters,” Irma paused to sweep her eyes over the people before her, meeting both friendly and hostile gazes with utter calm. “I called you here tonight to bring a grave matter to your attention. My family was attacked today, by thirteen of our kin. Here they stand.”
Irma pointed down, toward a row of kneeling men and women. They were not restrained – at least not with chains. Each one was shadowed by a large, muscled
Wolf, and did not appear in any hope of escaping. Mary-Lou frowned when she did not see Wiley among them, wondering what fate Irma had assigned to the unruly man.
“I fear that they will not be the last who will attempt to do us harm in the years to come.” Irma’s words were answered by a few angry shouts. Whether the callers were incensed by the violence against them, or wished to instigate more of it was difficult to tell.
“Do you want our blood?” someone hissed and oh, there was Wiley – beaten and bruised, bound tightly with heavy chains as he kneeled by Irma’s feet. He glared up at her, into the silent crowd with terrified malice, stubborn pride. Mary-Lou wondered he regretted what he had done, if he could be saved. “Your blood is hardly worth the trouble,” Irma told him, eyes cold and flat as she regarded the defeated man. “But I will ask for your ears – for the attention of all who have gathered here tonight.” She stepped back and away from the center of the makeshift stage and Mary-Lou saw her cue.
