by India Kells
“Father…” Her voice broke. Something inside her screamed to stay, to wait for the Enforcers and explain what happened. Another part knew that if she needed to find answers, she had to go.
Lionel took her in his arms, his voice rumbling with emotion. “I wish I could take your place. I wish there was something more I could do. But I’ll bend the rules for you. I’ll lie until we find a cure.”
Valeria heard his voice break a little. She closed her eyes and hugged him harder. “And what if you cannot find a cure?”
Her father drew back, and it almost broke her to see tears in his eyes. “At least, I will know you’re alive, my child.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Two years later…
Asher Stonelake readjusted his tie as he joined his uncle outside the building. He hated suits, even expensive, tailored ones. But he learned early that appearances often helped win the prize. And humans were so into appearances. To human men, he looked polished, powerful and successful. Trustworthy. To human women, he was an enticement. And he was ready to use any of those cards whenever it suited his needs or his purpose.
He looked like a successful business man from the outside, except perhaps for his golden trimmed beard and slightly long, slicked back, blonde hair. But the look gave him a unique edge. A lurking wildness. What those humans didn’t know, was that a real beast was barely contained in this three-piece charcoal suit. The wolf was still there, always on the hunt, biding his time.
Fall was unusually hot in the city. And his poor uncle Robert didn’t seem comfortable at all, and a tad out of place, waiting for him outside, all dressed up in his black suit. His reddish hair was spiked in all directions, a clear sign of his discomfort
“How did it go, son?”
Asher smiled at his uncle. “The more money you have, the more they want to give you. At first, they didn’t agree with my investment suggestion, and wanted to leash me. I told them differently. They would follow or I would walk out, keeping what’s mine in my pocket.”
“Good. They may not see your acquisition as an investment in their eyes. But in ours, it’s more than an investment.”
Asher nodded and started walking toward their car. “We have enough money now. Our investments more than paid off. We won’t have to worry about cash flow anymore. For the rest of our lives, if I have anything to do with it.”
“You have talent, son. Nobody I know, no werewolf I know, has succeeded the way you have. And definitely not as fast as you did. You have a gift with numbers.”
Asher put his hands in his pockets and ignored the insistent admiration of human women as they walked by. The more he came to the city, the more he learned to ignore them, unless he didn’t want to. Amusement was less and less on his mind nowadays.
“I succeeded so we can build our future. We could have control over our lives again. And have Sanctuary.”
His heart swelled with pride when he thought about this haven. The only place sanctioned by the High Council and respected by all species of the Otherworld to find refuge. The only place where Enforcers couldn’t set foot. There were not many places like this in their world, and he knew the High Council never gave anything freely. After his family had been chased and decimated without any proof of being infected, Asher knew he would have leverage; they would owe him. What he wanted even more than a Sanctuary, was the head of Lionel Lancaster on a platter. But that, he could get himself.
“Son, let me treat you to dinner, I heard about a small restaurant, catering to our kind, not far from here.”
Asher smiled. Their people were often hidden in plain sight. Werewolves had a preternatural appetite, one that couldn’t be satiated without raising questions from humans.
Asher let his uncle chat his way to the restaurant, half-listening, content in the moment. The sun was starting its descent, the shadows increasing between the buildings. The crowd, still restless, was slowly changing, adopting another rhythm. The wind carried the distant smell of autumn leaves; faint, almost imperceptible beneath the smoke and pollution. It always took him some time to get accustomed to a new territory. Smell brought lots of information, most he could dismiss, some he couldn’t.
As they turned another corner, the wind shifted again and smelled different smell brought him to an abrupt halt. Robert turned and frowned.
“What is it, Asher?” The older man smelled the wind and relaxed a bit. “I don’t find anything unusual. Did you see something?”
Asher ignored his questions and turned around. He knew that smell. It had haunted him for two straight years now. The woman. The woman in the woods, the one who killed his sister. Even diluted by countless humans, he could still distinguish it from any other.
Robert on his heels, he started a slow jog, going deeper into the city. The posh avenues turned to smaller streets before becoming darker alleys. He didn’t know how long he ran; he didn’t feel tired at all. His kind could run at full speed for hours without feeling fatigued.
He stopped near a building. The streetlight had been broken. He then retraced his steps and came back around again. Damn. The smell was gone.
“Asher, what’s going on?” Robert seemed slightly out of breath, but mostly worried. Asher couldn’t tell his uncle about whom he was pursuing. He couldn’t let him know about his personal vendetta. So much was already on the line.
“I thought I detected someone I knew … an old acquaintance.”
Robert turned around and examined the neighborhood, running a hand through his ruddy hair. “Well, son, you keep friends in low places, that’s for sure.”
Asher memorized the area. A seedy neighborhood indeed. The vibe was anything but inviting. But still, he knew it was her. The murderess with golden eyes.
“Let’s go, uncle. I’m starving, and I’ll even pay the bill. For our little unfinished run…”
Asher clapped his uncle on the shoulder and started walking back when he realized Robert was still standing there, under that broken streetlight in the slowly fading sunlight.
“Uncle?”
Robert tucked his hands into his pockets and stayed where he was. Asher walked back.
“Are you alright?”
Robert rocked a few times on his heels and looked around for a moment before returning his gaze to him.
“Care to tell me what’s really going on? About this old acquaintance of yours that brought us to this charming part of town?”
Asher knew that look. He also knew he could shut him down, as was the privilege and right of being the alpha of his pack and master of the Sanctuary. The last two years taught him about politics and diplomacy, and about friendship. Robert was more than his uncle, he was his friend and sounding board.
“I smelled her, Robert.”
The older werewolf frowned before he realized who he was referring to.
“You can’t be serious!”
Asher didn’t answer his outburst. He knew what he smelled, whom he smelled in the wind.
“We don’t know who she is, Asher. She may be dangerous.”
Asher bared his teeth. “Let her come to me, and I’ll show her who is truly dangerous.”
Robert shook his head. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. But I remember that night, every single detail you told me. Remember, you didn’t see that woman, that witch, kill your sister.”
“It was her!” The words all but exploded out of his mouth.
“Asher, think, you found Kelly dead by your side when you regained consciousness. The woman was gone. What if it wasn’t her?”
“She was powerful, one of the most powerful witches I have encountered. She appeared innocent at first, even friendly. But before I knew it, I was sent flying into a tree. When I woke up, Kelly was curled up by my side. No trace of blood, no wound. Lifeless.”
Asher closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Nothing good would come from letting his emotions take the best of him. He needed his brain to find his sister’s killer.
“My mind is set, Ro
bert. If this woman is in the city, I will find her. You can go back to Sanctuary, if you want, back to Ellen.”
Robert coughed. “If I come back without you, I prefer not to think how your aunt will welcome me.” He turned around, examining the street. “We can start here. Canvass the area. Maybe she left her smell somewhere, a trace at least.”
Asher nodded, glad for his help. Not that he wasn’t confident of finding her himself. Robert was more a guarantee that he would not tear her throat out when he found the witch. He had a much more dire fate for her.
They started walking. To outsiders, they looked like two friends, exploring the city. But this was far from a leisurely stroll. The sun was so low over the horizon, light was almost replaced by night. The advantage was that the wind had not yet picked up speed. The disadvantage was that without the sun, the air was colder, making old smells fainter, and harder to sort through the stink, the humans’ stench, and the pollution.
Hours had passed when they turned into a street buzzing with activities. They had left the residential area to start investigating what appeared to be a boulevard with shops and restaurants. People walked briskly past them. Humans always appeared to hurry somewhere, late for some appointment, maybe for their whole life. It was a tempo he was used to after being a trader for years amongst humans, but one he didn’t envy at all.
They passed a coffee shop, which messed with his nose, as coffee always did, then an arcade and a grocery store. At first, Asher ignored the homeless man sitting by the exit door, until his nose picked up something under the sweat, grime and dirt. It stopped him in his tracks. Robert did the same and stayed silent. Of course, the scraggly old man with the wispy grayish beard was not her. However, he had her smell all over him. All over that bright blue coat.
Asher fished out his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills. At first, the man’s eyes beamed at the sight, but suspicion quickly clouded his face. He lowered his head and pulled his worn cap lower over his head.
“Old man, I’m not here to hurt you. I only have a question.”
The man hmphed and looked at Asher’s face, examining him, glancing quickly at Robert beside him.
“If you’re a cop, you can fuck off, son. But because you seem new on the beat, I will tell you only once, I don’t do drugs, and I don’t sell it. Bribe as much as you want, I won’t start telling lies at my age.”
Asher crouched in front of him and put the two twenty-dollar bills in his hand. “I’m not a cop, and I don’t want drugs. And I don’t give a damn if you do drugs or not. I only want a piece of information.”
The man tightened his hand around the money and quickly put it away. “Son, this first payment certainly allows you to ask me a question.”
“Good. The coat you’re wearing. Where did you get it?”
The man looked at him up and down. “You don’t need that coat, son, I won’t sell it to you.”
Asher smiled, keeping his impatience at bay. “You’re right, I don’t need it. I only need an answer to my question. Where did you get it?”
The man nodded, calculating. “It’s a question I can answer, son.”
Asher arched his brow. “And what is the answer?”
“Son, you may have made a payment for the question, but you would need to make another one to get any answer from me.”
Robert snickered behind him, and Asher shook his head as he pulled a couple more bills from his wallet. “You drive a hard bargain. Your answer better be good.”
The smile on the homeless man face was filled with glee.
“Never made so much money for a simple answer. I got the coat from a lovely lady at the soup kitchen. It’s there, behind the church.” The old man pointed at the white church a block away.
Asher got back to his feet and went in the direction the man indicated. And as he said, on the other side, was a smaller building, apparently, a recent addition. As he approached, Asher cursed. The smell of the homeless people roaming around and the kitchen made it impossible to distinguish anything.
He pushed open the door and entered, followed by Robert.
Behind the counter, he could see three women. Another was working on a pile of clothing that had seen better days. The overall smell of the old, unwashed bodies and cooking food was overwhelming. The large room was lined with tables and chairs, much like a refectory. Meal time had passed, but there were still a couple of beaten souls hunched over their meals, oblivious to what was happening around them. One of them, possibly a woman, was coughing her heart out. Something twisted inside Asher’s chest. He may not care for humans, but he felt for people in need, with fear and pain in their hearts and hungry stomachs.
Turning away from the tables, he went to the counter. One woman, with red hair and ruddy cheeks on a face round like an apple, smiled at him.
“Hello, sir. I fear you’re too late for a meal, we just scraped the bottoms of our pans, and there’s nothing left.”
Asher offered her a charming grin. He wasn’t against flirting if it could accelerate the process. “No, no. We’re not here to eat. We’re searching for someone, and I think she may be here, maybe working here.”
“Sure, what’s her name?”
“I don’t know, but she just gave a blue coat, bright blue coat to a homeless man.”
The apple-faced lady frowned. “You would need to ask Cheryl. She’s the one in charge of the clothing. Normally, they don’t exchange coats, they prefer new ones. Clean ones. You better ask her before she leaves for the day.”
Asher headed to the wire-thin woman neatly folding a pair of trousers. The crowd was thinning, apart from the cleaning crew and the coughing female.
“Sorry to bother you, it’s Cheryl, isn’t it? Is there someone else usually working with you? A woman?”
Cheryl looked up at him, frowning. “If it’s a joke, it ain’t funny. We don’t have a large staff. I’m the one in charge of clothing. If I don’t come in, there is nobody else.”
“Okay, it’s just that I’m searching for a woman, one that gave or exchanged a bright blue coat with a homeless man today. Does it ring a bell?”
Cheryl continued folding her pile as she thought.
“I don’t know. The only woman I know who comes here and normally has a blue coat is Lee. As you now mention it, I didn’t see it on her when she came in today. You’ll have to ask her that question yourself.”
Asher reminded himself to relax and put a smile on his face. Baring his teeth was not going to help him.
“And where could I find this Lee woman?”
Cheryl looked around the room over his shoulder, and he followed her gaze. The room was almost empty. The coughing woman was by the door, waving at the cooks as she pushed the door open.
“You better hurry, she’s leaving.” That’s when their gazes met. He would recognize those golden eyes a mile away. And the woman bolted.
Asher had to admit, he was impressed. The woman was running and coughing her way through the street at an astonishing speed. As a werewolf, he had the ability to change and run faster than any human. Even in human form, he could still outrun them, but not without raising a few eyebrows in the crowd around him. And that group of humans currently made it difficult to move fast. And this woman, this witch, knew the layout like no other, using it to her advantage. The more she ran though, the easier it became for him to pick up her trail if she suddenly disappeared from sight, or when she didn’t disclose her position by coughing. Robert huffed two paces behind him.
Her breath turned to wheezing as she entered the side door of a building. There were more people here, too many to grab her and go. She was slowing down, but was still cunning enough to keep him away by any means possible. To stay in the open, around humans.
As he dodged a woman carrying grocery bags, one thought struck him. Why wasn’t she using her powers? In a second she could transport herself to any place of her choosing. Why was she still running?
Could her sickness have prevented her from jumping thro
ugh space? He only caught a glimpse of her when she fled the soup kitchen, but he noticed that her face was gaunter, and that she had lost weight from what he could remember. So much, it made her eyes look bigger on her face.
The witch pushed another door open and ran outside. It took him a moment to find her path, which gave her enough time to increase the distance between them. Again.
Asher looked around and saw her running at a distance, taking a street to her right. Where was she going? “Robert, try to block her, cut off her escape route. Try to anticipate where she’ll head next.”
His uncle nodded and took off in the opposite direction.
The direction she ran led him away from the usual crowds where it would have been easier for her to blend in and be protected from him. She knew he wouldn’t reveal his true nature amid a crowd. Why run away from the safest place in the city?
Was this a trap? That thought made him slow down a little and worry for Robert. Maybe she was the one luring him to a secluded location, to blast him with whatever spell she could.
He turned right, and saw they were entering the industrial area. The woman didn’t hide anymore, running toward a railway bridge that crossed the river. Asher closed in, and he knew he would be able to catch up with her in the middle of the structure.
As he set foot on the bridge, the witch turned, and Asher braced for an attack. The woman now coughed more than she breathed and instead of summoning her powers, she started climbing up onto the guardrail.
It stopped Asher in his tracks. What the hell was she doing? He took a quick look around, debating if she was serious or not. The water underneath was anything but calm, waves frothing and churning at an alarming speed. He knew the water wouldn’t be warm at this time of the year.
Strangely, his intention wavered a little. He wanted to kill the witch, the one responsible for his sister’s death. But seeing her balancing her weight on the guardrail, looking down at the water, his protective instinct kicked into gear and it enraged him. So what? Let her die. He was determined to rip out her throat, so her choice made his mission easy. But why, deep down inside, did it feel utterly wrong?
