Rivals (Shifter Island #2)

by Carol Davis

  Those were stakes a lot higher than there’d be for a ball game.

  The entire village was gathered around the perimeter of a big clearing, even Luca, who had been carried out of his house by two men Abby had seen before but hadn’t been introduced to. His friends, she supposed. He was sitting in a big chair, wrapped in blankets, looking a little better than he had the day before, but still pale and clearly nowhere near full strength. His mother was standing on one side of him, his father on the other.

  The girl who’d started this whole thing, Katrin, was a few yards away, standing with an older man and woman Abby assumed were her parents. The elders were there too, looking poker-faced and humorless.

  What did they all want? she wondered. Did they expect someone to die? Did they want someone to die? And if that someone was Aaron, did that mean Micah would win Katrin?

  A little surprised when no one took any notice, Abby moved back through the crowd, away from Granny Sara, until she reached the simple rail fence surrounding someone’s house. She leaned heavily against it, glad for the support and feeling a little sick.

  She could take a boat, she realized. She’d heard mention of where the boats were kept, that it wasn’t far away, and knew that with everyone here watching the fight, she’d be able to get away without a struggle. It would take her only a minute to run back to Granny Sara’s and retrieve her overnight bag, then she could make her way to the boats. If she circled the island to the dock where she’d originally landed here, she’d be able to point herself back across the water to Dolphin Cove.

  To civilization. To normal life among normal people.

  Yes.

  That was what she had to do, and quickly. She couldn’t stay here, among these people.

  These wolves.

  Something that felt a lot like grief welled up in her, gripping her heart in a way that made her gasp. She couldn’t feel Aaron calling to her at all, and decided he was too wrapped up in this fight to care where she was or what she was doing.

  That was fine, she told herself. She wouldn’t have to explain anything to him, wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to keep her here. She could just run, and be done with this.

  It was just a… a fling. That’s all.

  That’s all.

  The murmuring among the crowd was getting a little louder. It was almost time, then.

  Trying not to look around in a way that make her look suspicious, she moved along the fence to the path. A couple of people glanced her way but paid her no real attention; they were far too focused on that clearing, where the fight would take place. Abby shuddered as she retreated, then steeled herself and scurried down the path to Granny Sara’s.

  When she was inside with the door almost fully closed, she took the time to breathe, still trembling. Yes, her bag was still where she’d left it, there by the table. She picked it up and examined it to make sure nothing was likely to fall out, then turned back toward the door.

  When it started to swing open, she had to stifle a scream.

  Sara? Micah? One of the elders?

  Aaron?

  It was none of those. The door opened the rest of the way to admit Katrin, who looked every bit as somber as Granny Sara had.

  “I—I had to get something out of my bag,” Abby stammered.

  Katrin looked her up and down, her expression giving away nothing of what she was thinking or feeling. Did she want to fight, too? Abby wondered. Was that yet another thing the wolves did? Was Katrin interested in Aaron, and willing to fight for the right to have him?

  Oh, God, you can’t stay here!

  If Katrin told her “it’s our way,” Abby decided, she was going to scream. She might scream until she passed out. Things had been so simple a couple of days ago, up at the cabin, and now they were so complicated she couldn’t think straight. She didn’t think she’d be able to duck past Katrin, but she could use the back door and run through the woods.

  But Katrin was a wolf. Katrin could catch her.

  “Please,” she moaned. “I just want to go. I’ll go, and none of you will have to worry about me any more.”

  For a moment, Katrin didn’t respond.

  Then, to Abby’s astonishment, she strode across the room and wrapped her arms around Abby in an embrace that was both comforting and desperate. Abby felt the other girl shake as if she were standing in the middle of an earthquake and instinctively tried to hold on, but Katrin abruptly let her go and took a step back, reached up and swiped tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “I love them both,” Katrin whispered.

  “Who? Aaron and Micah?”

  Katrin shook her head. “Aaron and Luca. They were like my brothers. When we were small, we were never apart. Someone from another place would have thought we were family.” She paused. “You would have thought so.”

  “What about Micah?”

  “Micah is… troubled. He… he isn’t someone I could…”

  She spun around, looking frantically around the house, though for what, Abby had no idea. She looked like she’d woken up to find herself in a completely strange place, which was a feeling Abby was all too familiar with. She peered at Abby sharply, and again Abby had the feeling that Katrin might suddenly come at her, and this time not to hug her.

  “We have to go,” Katrin said.

  Abby frowned. “What, away? You want to leave?”

  The idea seemed to appeal to Katrin; she took a deep breath and her eyes opened wider. Then she shook her head again and nodded at the door. “No. We need to go to the gathering place. Aaron will need your strength. And mine. Micah is stronger, and more emotional. He has no bond to guide him. He’s never really connected with Granny. Aaron has us, and Luca, and his parents. If we give him that strength, he’ll win.”

  “Then… Micah’s going to die.”

  “Yes,” Katrin said. “He must. This has to end.”

  The crowd got even noisier as Abby and Katrin returned, but it wasn’t the two women’s approach everyone was interested in—it was Aaron and Micah, who moved into the clearing at almost the same time. They were both nude, something that startled Abby until she realized that the lack of clothing would make it easier for them to shift into their wolf form.

  She and Katrin found a place near the front of the crowd, not far from Aaron’s parents and Luca, and Katrin took firm hold of Abby’s hand.

  There’d be no running away now. But did she want to?

  Yes.

  When this was over. She’d explain to Aaron that she wasn’t cut out for a life among the wolves, that their society was too different, something she wouldn’t be able to blend into the way Granny Sara had. Surely he’d be able to understand that; after all, he hadn’t been able to fit into human society and feel comfortable there.

  The two men paced back and forth, eyes on each other. Without the camouflage of clothing, it was clear that Micah was the larger of the two: a couple of inches taller, heavier, more muscular. Aaron was broad-shouldered, but Micah’s shoulders were massive, almost as large as Daniel’s.

  “Give him your strength,” Katrin murmured.

  Abby looked over at Aaron’s family. They were all focused on him, eyes half-shut in what almost looked like prayer. Maybe it was; maybe they were praying that Aaron would walk away from this in one piece.

  For barely a second, Aaron glanced in Abby’s direction.

  He couldn’t afford to be distracted, and what they had between them was nothing but a distraction, one in which the rest of the world disappeared, where nothing was important but the two of them. Abby had felt that over and over in the time that she’d been here, and had luxuriated in it, that feeling that nothing mattered to Aaron but her, that he would surrender anything and everything to be with her. Now, he needed to let that go. If he let her distract him, Micah would kill him.

  The combatants got closer, now only a few yards apart. Each step they took was deliberate, carefully calculated, and Abby saw in Micah’s eyes a sharpness and c
larity that hadn’t been there before.

  She also saw him glance at Katrin… and frown.

  He knew, then. Knew that even now Katrin wouldn’t support him, wouldn’t provide him with any kind of strength.

  He sprang at Aaron suddenly, the leap as powerful as anything a real wolf could do. He struck Aaron full in the chest and knocked him down, and almost instantly the two of them were rolling in the dirt, pushing, grasping, using elbows and fists and knees to steer their combined form where each of them wanted to go.

  For a moment Aaron was on top, then Micah regained his advantage. He delivered a blow to Aaron’s jaw that made Abby gasp, but Aaron barely seemed to notice; because Micah had had to draw back to give himself room to strike, there was space between them that Aaron used to raise his knee and thrust, shoving Micah away from him long enough for him to scramble to his feet.

  Micah was up instantly, readying for another blow, but Aaron landed a solid punch to Micah’s jaw that sent him stumbling backward.

  Abby caught a glimpse of Granny Sara, who had knotted her hands together and had them pressed to her mouth. The older woman seemed no more supportive of this than Abby was, but she made no move to leave.

  She’s all he has, Abby thought, and for a second that made her feel sorry for Micah.

  Micah, who’d turned his loneliness and despair and need into a reason to nearly kill Luca.

  She watched the fight with an ache in her gut that came as much from the absence of Aaron’s passion as it did from watching the two men hammering each other. She struggled to find a way to send some sense of support to Aaron, but she felt no more connected to him than she did to any of the other wolves. He seemed like a stranger now, someone she’d found fighting in the street.

  Aaron flung out a leg, caught Micah on the back of his thigh, and sent him sprawling to the ground. Micah flipped to all fours, lifted his head to glare at Aaron, and then Abby saw him begin to change.

  Aaron had no choice. He too dropped to all fours.

  Limbs bent and shortened. Shoulders drew in. Fur flooded from their skin, covering them in thick pelts, Aaron’s mostly blond, Micah’s a deep charcoal gray that melted into black.

  They snarled at each other, teeth bared as they circled, their readiness to attack plain in each step they took.

  Katrin gripped Abby’s hand so tightly that Abby thought her bones would snap.

  A collective gasp rose from the crowd as the two wolves slammed together. If not for the colors of their fur, it would have been hard to tell one from the other; they spun and rolled, feet scrambling for purchase on the dusty ground, teeth looking for purchase of another kind. One of the wolves let out a scream as a bite sank into his flesh; they were flailing frantically, advantage shifting almost by the second.

  Someone in the crowd howled. Then another, and another.

  Blood was flowing now, smearing the coats of both wolves as they struggled. A bite caught Aaron’s leg, but he whirled and clamped his jaws onto Micah’s shoulder.

  Abby could feel his pain.

  Not in an empathetic sense; the pain coursed through her and settled deep in her gut, so fierce and demanding that she almost ran into the clearing to throw herself into the fray. She clung to Katrin’s hand, pulling it toward herself, and now she thought she might be crushing Katrin’s bones.

  A glance toward Aaron’s family reminded her of what Micah had done to Luca, who up beside the stream two days ago had looked as strong as Aaron, maybe even more so.

  Now, blood was smeared all over Aaron’s pale fur and was running down one leg. There was blood in the dirt, enough to turn it into mud, and when Aaron was forced to the ground and then came back up, he was caked with that too.

  Abby.

  She blinked at the sound of her name. Before, the sound had been full of longing and passion, pleasure, satisfaction.

  Now it was a cry for help. One she couldn’t ignore.

  She tried, almost fiercely, for a minute, because she couldn’t support this. Couldn’t be a part of two men—two men who weren’t really men—trying to tear each other to shreds.

  But this was Aaron, and he was calling.

  I’m… I’m here.

  Part of her still wanted to run, to get out of this place, to have her life make sense again.

  But… hadn’t it made sense? With Aaron? Lying wrapped in his arms, feeling as though she’d never been so loved before in her life? Wasn’t that where she’d always wanted to be, a place she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to leave?

  Wasn’t that where she belonged?

  Of course it was.

  It always would be.

  She sent her whole self flooding toward him, every bit of the strength of the bond between them. She felt it reach something that momentarily blocked it; then it was as if a door had opened and she was welcomed inside. She felt another surge of pain, but the joy of what was beyond the door washed it away.

  Aaron—it was Aaron’s deepest self, the place where the wolf lived, a place of pure emotion rather than logic and thought. That part of him adored her, treasured her, wanted her with him always.

  I’m here, she told him.

  Somewhere outside herself, outside of the two of them, there was a deep, braying cry of agony. A yelp. A stuttering growl, then a long, keening moan.

  It was unlike anything she’d ever heard before. Otherworldly, she realized.

  She forced herself to open her eyes. If she hadn’t been holding on to Katrin, she might not have been able to break away from that place she’d slipped into, but the other woman grounded her, brought her back to the edge of the clearing.

  Micah, human again, was lying on the ground struggling for breath. There were deep wounds in his shoulders and neck and one leg, all of them bleeding freely.

  Aaron was human now too, standing over his opponent with tears in the flesh of his arms and legs and hip and a gash on one cheek. He didn’t look particularly triumphant; to Abby he looked exhausted, regretful, ready to walk away.

  “Finish him!” called someone in the crowd.

  Another voice cried out, “Have your vengeance!”

  Still another yelled, “For Luca!”

  Abby’s gaze went immediately to Aaron’s brother, but he was wearing an expression she couldn’t read. He seemed to be focused somewhere far away, unaware of anything that was happening.

  Aaron looked around: at his parents and Luca, at the elders, at the still-glowering Daniel, who had been looming on the fringes of the crowd. Finally, he looked at Abby—and looked quickly away.

  “Let’s be done with it!” someone shouted.

  That was answered with cheers and… yes, growls of support. The crowd wanted final blood, Abby understood. Expected it—because it was their way. That chilled her to the bone, made her feel a surge of despair. She tried to fight it, to convince herself that things were the same everywhere, in one way or another, and in the process let her gaze drift away from the clearing.

  When she looked toward Aaron again, she found him watching her.

  Slowly, he shook his head and stepped back, away from Micah. Clearly, stepping away from the fight.

  “We’re better than this,” he announced to the crowd. “Truly, we are all better than this.”

  Then he strode over to Abby and pulled her into his arms.

  Sixteen

  Before he could do anything else, Aaron had to submit to the attentions of the healer, who bathed his wounds, sprinkled them with a foul-smelling powder, and stitched the largest ones closed. He hadn’t been fully conscious of pain during the fight, but now that his adrenaline had settled down, there didn’t seem to be an inch of him that didn’t hurt.

  Quickly, he reminded himself that this was nothing compared to what his brother had endured.

  When the healer was finally gone, he slipped gingerly into a fresh set of clothes and sat down on the edge of his bed. That was enough of a signal for Luca to come into the bedroom they had shared for so long, and Aaron was
relieved to see that his brother looked better than he had since before he was attacked. Most of the color was back in his face, and he seemed to be able to move more easily.

  “I agree,” Luca said quietly.

  “With–?”

  “With what you said. I couldn’t have brought myself to kill Micah. I didn’t dare say it in front of Father, and there are many in the pack who would never agree, but–” Luca sighed and touched his wounded shoulder. “He’s always seemed so helpless.”

  “Hardly helpless.”

  “You know what I mean. Confused, then. Lost.”

  Aaron thought back a number of years, to the time when Micah’s parents had died. Micah had been a small boy then, one who adored his mother and father. In many ways, they’d been his entire world.

  As Abby was Aaron’s world now.

  The thought of losing her sucked the breath from his lungs. He knew how much doubt she’d had through all of this, how close she’d come to fleeing, and he couldn’t condemn her for it. He knew enough about mainland humans to understand how alien his life would seem to them, even beyond the fact that he was a wolf, that he could transform himself into another shape. To some degree, into another, separate being. It was a lot to accept. Then, to accept that Aaron could kill another wolf in cold blood?

  “He was desperate,” Aaron said.

  Luca looked past his brother, out the window at the woods. “I tried to get him to stop, to sit down and talk to me. But he’d gone beyond reason.”

  “He probably won’t stop now.”

  Again, Aaron thought of Micah as a small boy. He’d been all right at first. He was stunned into near-silence by the loss of his parents, but he hadn’t stopped eating, or sleeping, and would let Granny Sara embrace and cuddle him. But as the years had gone by, he’d become more and more withdrawn, and would speak to almost no one.