Wolves of Wrath

by Quinn Loftis

  The djinn looked smug. “I thought that might be of interest to you. Understanding the emotions of those whose lives we record is important. We don’t record history on paper. All of it is in here.” He pointed to his head. “Your brain is much too simple to understand exactly how it all works, so I won’t bore you with that.”

  Dalton bared his teeth. Stupid djinn.

  “Not only can I feel others’ emotions through touch, I can detect the moods of those around me. Their auras give off a power that I can feel, indicating their disposition. Usually, these auras are not challenging to deal with, but since being around the males of your species, I feel as though I’ve been saturated in every emotion that exists.” Thadrick made a face that a djinn of his size and splendor should never make, like a child who’s tasted pickle juice or lemons for the first time.

  “Standing next to you isn’t too bad. Your mood is fairly consistent. Would you like to know what I’m sensing?”

  No, he and his wolf growled. Of course, Thadrick couldn’t hear them.

  “I would call it despair, but it’s much more than that. I don’t even know if there exists a word in human language to express it. In my language, I would call your mood layelydal rawenda. Essentially, it means to fall to the lowest depths, so far that you can no longer see the light from where you slipped.”

  Dalton flopped back down on his side. Maybe if he stopped breathing and acted dead the djinn would go away. Probably not.

  Thadrick made a sound that might be classified as a sigh. “I am constantly surrounded with anger, joy, frustration, anguish, and other emotions that I can’t even put a name to and yet…” He paused, and his whole body became rigid. “And yet, I still want what you have.”

  Dalton’s brow rose, which probably looked strange on a wolf’s face.

  “Okay, maybe not what you specifically have. But I would even endure your pain if it meant I could feel what the other wolves feel when they are with their mates. Even you had the overwhelming joy of holding Jewel, kissing her, knowing her. Would you give up those brief moments to avoid this outcome?”

  Dalton phased. He stood next to Thadrick, naked but uncaring, and answered him truthfully. “I would endure whatever I must in order to have a single breath with my true mate.”

  Thadrick nodded. “That is what I want.”

  “Do djinn not have mates?” Dalton asked, glad to take the focus off of his own pain for a moment.

  “Some mate for life. Most mate simply to reproduce. My kind is a very solitary species. Likely because of what we were created to do. Keeping the history of every supernatural being can be a bit distracting at times.”

  “How many historians are there?”

  “Anywhere from five to seven at any given time. The species divides the world by regions, one of which each of us is responsible. But that is as much as I am allowed to say. We never reveal the regions that are under our responsibility. If a supernatural with ill intent wanted to wipe out some recorded history, he would need to know which of my kind records the history he or she desires to purge.”

  “They could kill you?”

  “Doubtful, but maybe they could take the history from me. I won’t say more on the subject. Going around telling people how to steal from me is not an intelligent decision.”

  Thadrick was quiet and seemed to be contemplating something. Dalton got the distinct feeling he wasn’t going to like what the djinn said next. He was about to phase back when a large hand landed on his bare shoulder.

  “I have a solution to help you deal with the loss of your mate.” The djinn’s voice was matter-of-fact.

  “I haven’t lost her.” Dalton growled. “She will come back.”

  “I agree. If it is in her power to do so, she will return to your side. However, may I suggest grooming yourself and consuming nourishment so you once again appear as a wolf in your prime? You want her to have someone appealing to come back to, don’t you? You said yourself that she isn’t gone for good, yet you’re pining like a wolf who has lost his mate to death.”

  “She’s everything to me. Looking forward at the possibility of a life without her, it’s crippling.” That was hard for Dalton to say to someone who wasn’t pack.

  “Does she ache for you in equal measure?” Thadrick asked, with genuine interest in his voice.

  “When I could feel her through our bond, yes, I felt her pain at being separated from me.”

  “Help me find that,” Thadrick said gruffly.

  “What? A woman who cripples you?”

  “Yes. And who aches for me in the same crippling way.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know many female djinn.”

  “I’m not talking about djinn,” Thadrick responded.

  “Can you even be with someone who isn’t djinn?” Dalton asked.

  Thadrick frowned. “I don’t know. There is no history of one of my species being with another. But that does not mean it isn’t possible.”

  “We can’t just go traipsing around different realms looking for a female.” He growled. He felt like he was dealing with a much too intelligent and sophisticated toddler, but a toddler nonetheless.

  “Why not?”

  The djinn was serious. Think like a toddler, Dalton thought to himself. “Because we are needed here. And there’s a bad sorcerer out there who wants to hurt us.”

  The djinn’s face was blank as he stared at him. “Why are you speaking to me in that manner?”

  “Because you are acting like a child.”

  “Fine, we will not go now. But I want your word that when you are free to leave Perizada’s realm, you will assist me in finding my own female.”

  “You do understand that females aren’t just lying around at the end of rainbows, don’t you?”

  “I liked you better when you were a dog acting like a cat,” Thadrick said dryly.

  So he had understood Dalton’s wolf’s behavior. Who knew? “I liked you better before you left whatever lamp you crawled out of.”

  Thadrick made a sound that made it clear he was insulted. “We don’t live in lamps. That would be ridiculous.”

  After several minutes, Dalton realized Thadrick had no intention of going away. Figures. He wanted to allow in the anguish of being apart from Jewel, not babysit an ancient being that was behaving like a teenager consumed by raging hormones.

  “I’m bored,” Thadrick said suddenly. “Come,” he said as he turned to head back down the hill. “You will spar with me.”

  “I don’t really feel like sparring right now,” Dalton said.

  “And I don’t feel like waiting to find a female, but those are the cards we have been dealt at the moment.” Thadrick stopped and turned to look up at him. “You are a sad excuse for a male. Perhaps when Jewel comes back, she will see I am a more capable male to care for her.”

  Dalton phased without even thinking. His wolf saw red at the djinn’s taunting. His paws hit the ground at a dead run, and he chased after his prey. Thadrick appeared only to be trotting away, yet Dalton never gained an inch.

  When they reached the sparing circle, Dalton launched himself at the large djinn. Before he knew what had happened, he hit the ground with a loud thud. Apparently, he wasn’t allowed to die by letting himself waste away, but death by djinn was acceptable.

  He was stronger. Just having his blood in the two gypsy healers had made him much stronger. He was now tied to their magic and could use it as if it was his own. It wasn’t something that he’d known would happen. Volcan smiled. Being stronger meant he wouldn’t have to hide out in the draheim realm much longer. If only his two healers would get busy making the witches, things could move forward. Without the witches, he would not be able to wipe Perizada and her pack of dogs from existence.

  Perhaps it was time to give Jewel a little motivation. He walked over to the cage that was sitting in the corner of his study. The woman inside stared back at him. There was no fear in her eyes. There was no indication she cared one way or another what he d
id with her or to her. It was infuriating, but he had to wait. He couldn’t take his frustration out on her. He would leave that task to Jewel.

  Yes, it was time for him to pay his little witches a visit and bring them home for some motivational conditioning.

  Chapter 8

  “Did you know, one of the things the Puritans used to convict a person of witchcraft in Salem was a cake? It was called a ‘witch’s cake’ and was made out of rye flour and the urine of the accused and then fed to a dog. If the animal showed the same symptoms as the individual in question, the accused was considered guilty of witchcraft.” ~Jewel

  Longest. Flight. Ever. That’s all Anna could think as the plane rolled to a stop, finally. When Sly and Z had told them they were flying to Massachusetts, she hadn’t considered just how far apart the two states were. A little over eight hours later, they’d arrived in Boston, which was as close to Salem you could get by plane unless you were fortunate enough to have a private plane and landed in a field. They weren’t that lucky. But landing only fourteen miles from their destination was not a big deal. What was a big deal was her bladder, and the fact that if she didn’t get to a ladies room quickly, they were going to have to stop for new pants before they made their final destination.

  “You alright?” Jewel asked, her face concerned. It was clear that Jewel had misinterpreted her pained expression, thinking the girl was under some serious mental strain. This made Anna laugh, which wasn’t what she needed under the circumstances. Anna grabbed her stomach and clenched her legs together as she tried to gain control of herself. The hysterics were unwarranted and were probably due to her sleep deprivation.

  “Did she somehow get a complimentary beverage, and I don’t mean a Dr. Pepper,” Sly asked.

  “I don’t smell any alcohol on her,” Jewel told them.

  “I’m not drunk, warlock,” Anna said. Finally, the laughter was subsiding, but the need for a bathroom was getting dire. “I’m just tired and I really, really have to pee, and because of watching too many Dateline specials I can’t bring myself to use a bathroom on a plane.”

  While they’d been dealing with Anna’s fit of hilarity, the plane had been de-boarding, so when she finally stood up, there was no one between her and the boarding ramp. Anna took off at a soft jog down the aisle. A full-on run would have jostled her body too much, and she’d have wet herself for sure. Wouldn’t that be something to share with Gustavo. She bit her tongue to keep from laughing again as she entered the terminal. Directly across from her, shining like a lighthouse in a storm, was a huge women’s bathroom sign. But between her and that bathroom was a torrential sea of people, all in a hurry to make it to their flight, and all with the look of deadly intent for anyone who got in their way. She’d just have to take her chances.

  She started forward, dodging around people, offering tons of apologies when she cut someone off, and stopping herself from returning a rude gesture when a woman, who looked to be about ninety, riding a motorized wheelchair, flipped her off. She shouldn’t have expected the old woman to sympathize with her when she’d blurted out, “Sorry, bathroom,” as she jumped in front of the woman’s chair. She was probably sitting pretty with her adult diapers, peeing whenever the wind blew. Anna did not have that luxury.

  “You know you’re tired and delirious when you’re wishing you were wearing an adult diaper because you have to pee so bad,” Anna muttered as she pushed open a stall door. Never had a toilet looked so beautiful.

  “It must be serious if you’re nearly taking out old ladies.” Jewel chuckled.

  “Oh, you saw that?”

  “Anna, everyone saw it. You better be careful. I think she might be waiting for you outside.” Jewel snickered.

  “If Heather was here, she’d just take the scooter from the old lady,” Anna added and then let out a huge sigh of relief.

  “And if they asked her why a blind woman needed a scooter, she’d tell them, ‘That way if I bump into anything, it won’t hurt me.’” Jewel echoed Anna’s sigh. “It feels good to laugh. I know it shouldn’t, but it does.”

  Anna finished up and flushed the toilet. She opened the door to find Jewel looking at her own eyes in the mirror, lamenting the dark circles she saw there. Anna stepped up, squirted some soap on her hands, and took her time washing them. She loved it when the sinks had those sensors and turned on automatically. She smiled to herself—it’s the little things. And that’s what she told Jewel.

  “We have to hold onto the laughs when they come, Jewel. It’s the laughter, too, and joy that comes with, that will help us fight this darkness, this cold feeling inside that is spreading. I know you feel it. It’s as if ice water is being slowly injected into my veins. And the only time I don’t feel it is when I’m genuinely happy.”

  “But…” Jewel started, but Anna stopped her.

  “No buts. We both regret having taken those women’s lives. We didn’t do it out of malice. We didn’t even do it on purpose. We were simply trying to survive.” Anna had given herself this very speech on the flight, silently, multiple times. There was only one way they were going to survive the hell they were entering, and that was by choosing to move past the horror they would see and do.

  “You’re right,” Jewel finally said. “It’s the circle of life, really. Eat or be eaten. The strong survive, and the weak expire.”

  Anna threw her paper towel in the trash and then grabbed Jewel’s hand, leading her out of the bathroom. She caught herself looking around for scooter granny as soon as they stepped back into the busy terminal, but the old woman had apparently found someone else to terrorize. She was nowhere in sight. Z and Sly were standing a few paces away from the door, far enough away that they wouldn’t be trampled by full-bladdered ladies, but not so far that she and Jewel wouldn’t see them as they emerged.

  “Better?” Z asked when Anna and Jewel reached them.

  Anna nodded.

  “Just wanted you to know that I got your daring charge to the ladies’ room on video,” Sly said, looking much to smug.

  “What?” Anna laughed. “Seriously? Let me see.”

  Sly held out his phone so they could all see the screen and pressed play. And there was a maniac in a long skirt, T-shirt, and Converses dashing across the terminal like a frog in a video game.

  “I kind of look good from the back,” she muttered.

  Jewel nudged her. “You’re beautiful from any side.”

  “Shh,” Z said, motioning with his hand at them.

  “Ladies and gents, we are now watching the beast known as the Wheeler,” Sly said in a voice that sounded like a tour guide, “make her way through the wilds of busy Boston travelers. She has her eyes set on her prey, if toilets can be called prey, and she will take out anyone who gets in her way. Like now,” he said excitedly, “as an older, weaker traveler attempts to weave through the chaos. The Wheeler cuts in front of her, all the while gesticulating with her hands in some elaborate attempt to frighten her slower rival. But it doesn’t appear to be effective, as the Wheeler’s opponent fires back with some hand motions of her own. This tactic seems to be effective for the other traveler, as the Wheeler turns and runs for dear life, ducking into a nearby cave.”

  Anna couldn’t help but laugh. She did indeed look as ridiculous as she’d felt. Oh well, at least she hadn’t peed on herself. Mission accomplished.

  “Now that we have that taken care of,” Jewel said with a smile, “are we ready to get down to business?”

  “Let’s go to the rental cars. I’m sick of taxis,” Z said and pointed toward a sign that indicated the direction of the exits.

  “We have to get our bags first,” Anna said.

  “Right,” Z said. “Bags, then rental car. Move it people. I’m hungry, and that makes me witchy.” He grinned in satisfaction. “See what I did there?” he asked as he nudged Anna. “Makes me witchy instead of the other because, well, because you two are witches.”

  “Just a bit of advice,” Anna said as they walked. “Ex
plaining why something is funny usually takes the funny out of it.”

  She’s right, Z,” Sly called back from where he was walking in front of them.

  Jewel, being Jewel, saw the dejected look on Z’s face and added quickly, “But it was very clever.”

  Z perked up a little, like a puppy who’d been scolded and then patted on the head. Anna shook her head. These were their bodyguards? But then she remembered when the pair had showed the girls how scary they could actually be. Maybe that’s why Z didn’t mind acting goofy, because he knew he could kick some serious supernatural or human butt if the need arose.

  Jewel sighed and closed her eyes as she slid into the rental car. It was a small SUV with leather interior that was smooth like butter. She was exhausted. And she knew she wouldn’t be getting any rest until after they’d done some digging. She’d already been on her phone doing research and found the Museum of Salem Witch Trials, a municipally owned museum dedicated to telling the history of the events that took place in Salem in 1692. She was hoping they might find even a morsel of information that would cause a light bulb to come on. As it was, she was beginning to wonder if maybe her light bulb was growing dim.

  “You okay back there, Red?” Z asked.

  Jewel gave him a thumbs up. It was all the energy she could muster. She heard the two warlocks arguing about whether they should use the navigation system in the car or the ones on their phones.

  “Does it really matter?” Anna interrupted them. “Dudes, one of you use the car navigation and the other, preferably the co-pilot, use your phone.”

  Jewel grinned at Anna as she swung her head, still resting on the back of the seat, to the right to look at her friend. “Good job.”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “Peri said the male werewolves could act like toddlers. She failed to mention that warlock males are just as bad.”

  “We can hear you,” Sly said.

  “Don’t care,” Anna called back then looked at Jewel. “Got any brilliant ideas going on in that genius head of yours?”