by Leeda Vada
She gasped at the branch protruding from her son’s chest. Duncan rushed over and positioned himself in front of her. Gripping her shoulders, he forced her to face him.
“He is unconscious. He’s not in any pain. And more importantly, he doesn’t want you to see him until the branch has been removed. He doesn’t want to cause you any unnecessary distress. And I promised him that I would respect his wishes,” Duncan insisted.
“Now you respect his wishes,” she responded sarcastically. “Why now? You never have before. Now get out of my way, Commander,” she said forcefully, pushing at his arms. “I will see my son.”
Duncan dropped his hands. Bonita followed the stretcher into the nearest cubicle.
Duncan was behind her and caught her as she collapsed at the sight of Dr. Malachi pulling the stake from Kahn’s chest. Blood gushed forth and flowed over the sides of the stretcher. Khan’s scream pierced the blanket of opiates.
“Get her out of here!” Dr. Malachi yelled at Duncan. “What were you thinking?” he shouted, incredulous.
Duncan lifted his wife and took her behind the curtain of the adjoining stall.
Khan’s screams caused Bonita to sob uncontrollably. “Why, Duncan? How did this happen? Each member of Canaan’s team is an expert in explosives.”
“We’re not sure. But we think that he was clear of the blast zone but went back to check on Nathan.”
“I don’t understand. Why wasn’t Nathan in the safe zone too?”
“I don’t know the answers to those questions, but I’m going to find out,” he said, making large comforting circles across her back.
“Commander! Excuse me for interrupting, but may I have a word?” asked Achak, as he held the curtain open.
“Now?”
“Yes,” Achak insisted, alarm clear in his voice.
Duncan lowered Bonita to the stool next to the hospital bed on which the medics had transferred Khan. “Honey, I’ll be right back.”
“Go,” Bonita said. “I’ll be all right.”
“Tamby!” Duncan called. Tamby had followed the medi-jet to the hospital. She appeared at the open curtain. “I need you to sit with my wife for a minute.”
“Of course,” she responded.
Duncan led Achak to the opposite corner in the waiting area. “What is so urgent that it couldn’t wait until I’m sure my son is out of danger?” he demanded; annoyance rife in his voice.
“At least your son is alive,” quipped the Stealth warrior, struggling to suppress his anger. “Odin’s son is dead, scattered in pieces all over the forest.”
“What?” Duncan asked, stunned. “What in the hell happened?”
“From what we can determine, Nate tried to rescue a woman and her child held in the back of the outlaw lair. He went back to get them after the ‘all clear’ signal had been given. The detonator ignited before they could escape.”
“How could that happen? He was supposed to recon the area before setting the charge and sending the ‘all clear’.”
“He must have missed them somehow. Vargr had the mother and her infant imprisoned in a recessed section behind an impenetrable force field. It is not clear how, but Nate must have sensed their presence and went back to rescue them. He may have made it out even then, but it seems he was detected by two guards who were also in the cloaked section. They must have slowed him down, and the explosives went off before he could get out. Everyone was killed.”
“Dear God!” Duncan raised his balled fists and hit the wall.
“Where are Odin and Rand?”
“Back at the site. They are performing the purifying ritual with what is left of Nate’s body.”
“What about Laura? Has she been told?”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine they wouldn’t tell her right away, if only to prevent her from finding out from someone else.”
“But I would think they wouldn’t provide the purification ritual without her?”
“I would have thought so too, and Rand also mentioned the same thing. But Odin said no. He refused to allow anyone to send for her. I did hear him call Vesta. I’m sure he gave her instructions about what to do.”
“That makes sense. Vesta and Laura are very close. And under the circumstances, the usual notification from the pack’s Lupa would not be the best course of action,” he said, his tone reflecting deep regret.
“Right,” Achak agreed with a sigh.
#
Bonita was stunned at the news of Nathan’s death. She was still in shock when she was escorted to Khan’s bedside.
As her son’s eyes opened, she watched the haze clear and wariness take hold.
“Hello, son,” she soothed, gently stroking his forehead.
“Hi, mom,” he whispered. “What’s up?”
“Oh, not much,” Bonita replied, trying for a light tone, fighting tears.
Alarmed at the pain in her face, Khan tried to comfort her. “I’m going to be fine, mom. “I’m tough and stubborn. I got that honestly, as you can testify. I’ll be back on my feet in no time.”
Looking past her shoulder, he commanded Duncan’s gaze. “Nate? What did you find out?” he asked his father, his voice cracking as a cough shook him.
“Don’t talk,” Bonita cautioned him.
Not taking his eyes off Duncan, Khan waited for the hacking to subside. “In a minute, mom, after I get some answers.”
“Nate didn’t make it,” his father said.
Khan was incredulous. “He didn’t make it? What kind of shit is that, Duncan?”
“He gave the ‘all clear’.”
“I know that!” Khan barked. “I was there.”
“But he went back in. It seems he discovered two victims—a mother and infant—sequestered in a cloaked section of the inner cave. He didn’t become aware of them until the team’s rocket hit their computer system, disabling the force field that shielded a section of the cave. Some of the outlaw soldiers were hiding there with the two human captives and tried to stop the rescue. Nathan wasn’t able to overpower them and get out in time.”
Duncan walked over to the head of the bed and clasped his son’s right hand. “I’m so sorry, Khan.”
“Oh, God!” Khan screamed, closing his eyes in disbelief. “Why didn’t he call me? I would have gone back to help him.”
“It happened so fast, he probably didn’t have time, trying to get in and out before the blast,” Duncan conjectured.
“You don’t know that,” Khan declared.
“What I know is that we would be picking up your remains too,” Duncan countered.
Throwing off his father’s hand, Khan reared up, forcing Duncan backward as he struggled to toss off the bed sheet. “I’ve got to get out of here.” Suddenly stilling, Khan whispered, “Calli. This will destroy her.”
Bonita turned to Duncan. “Does she know?”
“I don’t know. I’m assuming so, or if she doesn’t, she will soon.”
“Does anyone know how to reach her?” Khan asked.
“Her parents do,” Bonita assured him.
Duncan snorted. “You know Odin doesn’t discuss Calli with any of us. But I’m sure she’s been told. He would see to it.”
“Surely the Council will lift the sanction on her presence in Bakari for this? She needs to be with her family, and they need to be with her.”
“That will have to be the Council’s decision.”
“Please, Duncan. You have to persuade them,” Bonita pleaded.
“I’ll talk to Apollo about calling an emergency meeting.”
“Likelihood of that,” Khan responded sarcasm.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” he assured his wife, sending his son a warning glance.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hey, you two,” Laura greeted her friends. “Come on in. Erol, Odin’s not here. He got an urgent call from Apollo. It must have been really serious because of the stunned look that crossed his face before he could mask it. He didn’t say
what it was about. Just that he had to go,” she said, moving further into the kitchen.
“Strange, come to think about it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that particular look on his face before,” she said reaching for the tea kettle. “I’ll be glad when he gets back.”
Laura began to feel uneasy as she became aware of her friends’ silence and the expressions on their faces. She also noticed Erol’s viselike grip on his wife’s shoulders.
“Laura, let’s go into the den,” Vesta directed, taking her arm and moving her to a seat on the couch facing the fireplace. She sat beside her, enclosing her friend’s hands in her own.
Tears began streaming down Vesta’s cheeks. Erol had stepped up behind his wife, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
“Dear God, Vesta. Who?” Laura asked.
“Nate,” her friend whispered.
Laura froze.
“There was an explosion,” Erol said softy. “Nate was killed trying to rescue a woman and her infant.”
Laura stared into the pain in the face of her friend. She didn’t say another word. She didn’t move. She did not shed a tear.
Erol wasn’t sure that Laura was hearing his words or only letting them bounce off the walls he could almost physically see going up around her.
#
Belen’s calm, serene demeanor belied the depth of her grief. She mourned not just the end of a young vibrant Warrior, a young man passionate about life, loved by family and friends, and respected by all who knew him. There was more to it.
Just as painful was her recognition that Nathan’s death had finally severed the precarious cord that had linked her to her best friend.
She and Laura had been friends on so many levels: two non-Canid outsiders bound by fate to two strong, virile, brilliant, powerful Canid Alpha males. Two outsiders forced to step up beside their men and lead the pack at their sides. Two friends who faced the ever-present threat to their lives and the lives of those they loved on a daily basis.
While their mates roamed far and wide, securing the survival of their kin, she and Laura remained in Bakari, being there for each other and for the other female mates and their families. They always had each other’s back, together facing any obstacles or challenges that came their way, sharing the fear and heartache, the joys and victories.
Calli’s banishment had caused an insurmountable chasm in their friendship. Nate’s death had destroyed it.
Apollo, sensing his mate’s distress, reached over and squeezed her hand. Tilting her head, she registered the concern reflected in his gaze. “I love you, Belen Alexander Powhatan,” he whispered to her. “Always.”
The pack Lupa did not have the luxury of giving in to her grief. Fighting back her tears, Belen turned back to the scene playing out before her. The sound of a helicopter approaching then landing drew the attention of the assembled crowd waiting for Nathan’s funeral service to begin. A few minutes later, the crowd parted as Khan escorted the two passengers to where Odin, Laura, and Rand sat.
#
All three stood as the two women approached. Male and female Canid alike were riveted by the scene as Laura and the Amazon clasped hands and touched foreheads, greeting each other in tones too low to be heard by anyone other than Rand and Odin.
It was almost impossible not to notice the resemblance between Laura and the Scythian Amazon: the flaming red hair, statuesque bearing, muscular arms, proud stance, piercing gaze, and striking luminescent, milk-white skin. They could have been sisters.
There had been rumors that Laura was a descendant of the Scythians, the legendary Amazonian line of Antiope, the sister of Hippolyta, the Greek queen of the Amazons who reigned during the time of Alexander the Great. Supposedly extinct for centuries, the appearance of one of them in Bakari for Nathan’s funeral added credence to the speculation that Laura carried Amazonian blood.
After Calli’s rejection of Apollo at the Warrior ceremony, she disappeared from Bakari. There had been no news of her or at least none that had been made public.
The older and more seasoned Canid knew there was no way that Apollo would ever allow Canaan’s mate to disappear without knowledge of where she was. And Canaan, as her mate, would not be able to rest until he knew her location.
But for much of the Canid population, their first glimpse of their rebel Canid princess was today at her brother’s funeral.
Laura reached out and included Calli in their embrace, the three statuesque women comforting each other in their grief.
For once, Calli was not the center of attention, the other two women were. Most everyone had heard the legend of the Scythian Amazons, but because so few Canid had seen any during their lifetime and there was no verified record of any, their existence was shrouded in mystery and tall tales. Still, if this woman was any indication, the descriptions of their astounding beauty had not been exaggerated.
Odin maintained a discreet distance, his visage locked in granite, no evidence of the grief he had to be feeling. Rand’s expression was inscrutable. Some wondered exactly how much the Lakota males knew of their wife and mother’s extended family.
Out of respect for Odin and Laura, and a fear of further alienating Canaan and his generation, the Council had given permission for Calli’s attendance as well as that of her Amazonian escort.
#
Nate would have liked the service. The highest-ranking members of the most powerful packs were there with their families. His fellow Warriors were his pallbearers, several being friends with whom he had grown up.
The memorial service was short and simple. Several of Mozart’s concertos played quietly in the background as Nate’s best friend, Khan, read the twenty-third Psalm, followed by a ten-minute, three-dimensional slide show of Nathan’s life.
There was no choir, no voices raised in song, per the request of his mother. Laura was still so filled with anger and resentment that she had prohibited any of the usual expressions of sympathy that pack society dictated.
This was the second child she had lost in the service of the Canid community, and she had never really come to terms with the first loss. The pain of not being able to view Nate’s body, so mutilated that his features were unrecognizable, made her inconsolable.
“It’s not him. It’s not,” she kept pleading to Odin. “It happens all the time, identifying the wrong body,” she said. “I don’t believe it is Nathan.”
No matter how much her family and friends tried to tell her about DNA tests and eyewitness accounts, she refused to let go of her hope that her son was still alive. She originally refused to have any kind of service. Only after Rand and Calli told her that they needed a formal way to say goodbye to Nate did she acquiesce.
The house was more somber than usual for the meet-and-greet after a funeral service because Laura refused to come out of her room to talk to anyone. To accept their condolences was to accept that Nate was dead, and she just was not ready to do that.
During the funeral, she couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her eyes, the deep resentment, as she looked at the mothers whose sons had returned, young men who attended the service in their Warrior uniforms, standing strong and tall in the sunlight, while her son was condemned to eternal darkness.
#
Walking around making courteous responses to the guests gathered at the house after Nathan’s funeral took every ounce of strength Calli had.
Nathan had always been the adventurous and restless one, going where other Canid were wary of going, fearless no matter the circumstances. Calli and Rand had been his often reluctant support team, goaded by their intrepid brother into joining him, enjoying themselves despite their misgivings.
The two surviving triplets put on their best cardboard smiles as they made their rounds, shaking hands, accepting hugs, and repeating the obligatory “Thank you” a million times. Their father did not accompany them.
#
Commander Odin was not one for small talk. Or one for hugging. Six foot six, broad chested, bu
ilt like a tank with a cropped military-style haircut and a countenance set in granite, his face lit by eyes so dark and deep that one could not pierce their depths, he discouraged any attempts to approach him. Even his Warriors of Odinn knew today was not the day to express their condolences.
Odin had never recovered from Calli’s rejection of her Warrior training and repudiation of Apollo and his authority as her Alpha.
There was little known of Odin’s past before meeting Duncan on one of his acquisition raids into the territories that bordered the Powhatan clan’s range.
Always a hardnosed, demanding trainer and authority in the clan’s security hierarchy, Odin was brutal and uncompromising in the training of his Warrior teams and at times so devoid of feeling that Duncan feared the wolf in him was in danger of reaching Berserker status.
Berserker wolves, according to Norse legends, were savage and ruthless in their treatment of their victims. They fought in bloodlust, a mindless state of blind rage, the animal part of their nature completely dominating.
Duncan had once mentioned to Apollo that occasionally during the prolonged periods of territorial wars, he had scented traces of the Berserker gene in Odin, though he had to admit that there had been no sign since Odin’s mating with Laura.
Before Laura, Odin kept mostly to himself, only associating with other Canid when executing a pack attack. He would often serve as a decoy, maintaining his solitary status as much as possible, even in the midst of a concerted attack.
Nathan’s death and Calli’s exodus had thrown him back into that isolationist state. If it weren’t for Odin’s unconditional love for his mate and his love for his surviving son, Duncan would have feared for his friend’s sanity.
After two hours, the crowd finally began to thin. The usual clouds of late summer began rolling in, forecasting the thunderstorms that were a regular part of summer in the Cumberland Gap.
Calli was glad. She wanted the weather to reflect the misery she was feeling. She needed the thunder to lament Nathan’s death, to let all of nature give witness that he was mourned.
“Calli, go get some rest,” Vesta encouraged, as she began clearing the dining room table.
