by Casey Lane
Isa took the chair on the left, tucking her feet beneath her before looking pointedly at Wren and then the other chair. He found himself grateful that they’d put the chairs back in their original location. He took the seat she offered but didn’t take his eyes off their intruder.
Isa gestured at Allister. “Well, we’re listening.”
“Have you noticed anything unusual over the last few days?”
Isa’s heart skipped, but her face gave nothing away. “Unusual? In Belle Haven? How much time do you have?”
“I don’t have time for your sarcasm today, Isa. When Veronique sent you looking around the town center, did you see anything? Sense anything? Was there anything out of the ordinary?”
Isa frowned at him, her trepidation radiating from her like a beacon. “Anything meaning a demonic deer?”
Wren couldn’t help the way his head snapped towards her. A deer. A deer like the tattoo on the girl’s thigh? The one that hurt Neoma.
“No, Isa, not a deer. Something real, wards, enchantments, hexes.”
Something about the way he’d said the last word—the slight inflection, just the slightest of hesitation—told Wren that was what the witch really wanted to know.
Isa obviously picked up on it too. She leaned forward. “Hexes? That sounds like you are looking for a witch.
Aren’t witches sort of your specialty? Why are you asking me instead of Alex?”
Allister leaned closer as well, mirroring Isa’s posture. “Because, my dear, Alex is the one who appears to be hexed.”
Isa’s spine stiffened. “When?”
“He said he started to feel ill the day after you and Genevieve went on patrol with him.”
Her gaze caught Wren’s, snagging and holding for just a moment, before returning to Allister. “Feel ill? Like the others? Is he sick like they are?”
The witch nodded, steepling his fingers together. “He’s not the only one. The elder witches in this town are getting worse. Seeing things that aren’t there, having random outbursts. Some have even started to grow violent.”
“Allister, the Jenkin’s haven’t been all there for six years…truthfully, nobody who walked away from the incident six years ago has ever been the same. How can you tell they’re getting worse?”
Wren watched the other man’s eye twitch in agitation, clearly not used to being questioned by anybody. “It’s not just the elders. Isa, the children of the coven are blood bonded to Alex. Do you understand what that means? He’s the high priest of their coven, what drains him, drains them.” Isa sucked in a startled breath, and Wren looked to her, wondering if she was connecting the same dots he was. Allister narrowed his eyes at them. “Do you know something? Does it have to do with that child you brought with you?”
“What do you know of my child?” Wren asked, fighting his shift.
“I know that you’re an idiot if you think that I believe she’s part of your bloodline. You have no idea what you’re up against…none at all.”
Wren was on his feet without thought, peering down at Allister. “What do you mean? What do you know about any of this? Do you know something about her?”
Allister sneered. “You’re just like your father, an uncultured thug. I don’t answer to you, and I’ll not be intimidated.”
“We’ll let you know if we find anything,” Isa said, standing abruptly. “Thanks for stopping by.”
Allister stood then, too. “Isa, if you know anything-If you are keeping anything from me, I promise you, you’ll not like the outcome.”
Wren dropped any niceties, claws extending, bones shifting under his skin. Isa didn’t so much as flinch, holding a hand out to Wren, telling him without words to stand down. “Allister, if you dare threaten me in my home again, I promise you that you’ll not like the outcome, consequences be damned.” She pointed towards the door. “Leave, if I find out anything that will help you, I’ll let you know.”
He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking, to Wren, like a fish gasping for air. Finally, he said, “This isn’t over, Isa.”
“Yes. I get it. Consider me duly threatened and get the hell out of my house before my kids get home.”
As soon as the door closed behind him, she sagged against it. “So, that’s it. That’s what Ezri was trying to tell us. This thing, this monster, is some kind of…zompire?”
Wren sat on the sofa and Isa slipped into his lap. “There’s something else,” he said. “When you went on patrol with Alex you were looking for a demonic deer?”
“I also said the Jenkin’s suffer from a rather extreme case of dementia. We only went looking out of respect. We found nothing, just as we expected.”
“That’s the thing. Remember I told you about the girl riding with Dylan and Neoma in my dream?” Isa nodded, resting her head against his chest. “That girl had a deer tattooed on her inner thigh. That can’t be a coincidence, can it?”
“What the hell are we saying, Wren? That Neoma is being targeted by a shapeshifting zompire whose worshippers are blood junkies with deer tattoos? That your brother was one of them?” Isa growled. “This is maddening. The more we learn about this, the less it makes sense. What the hell were your parents hiding about Neoma? Why does this thing want her blood so badly? Where the hell did it come from?”
“I don’t have any answers.”
“That’s not true. Thanks to Ezri, we at least know how to kill it.”
Wren took a deep breath. “Now all we have to do is find it, and someone pure enough to chop off its head.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Isa
Isa wasn’t expecting the steamy night air. Perhaps that was naïve, given the time of year but it hit her like a fist like it had weight. Sweat trickled along her spine, causing her clothes to cling uncomfortably. It agitated her wolf, sending a full body shiver along her spine. She needed to shift. She never let her out of her cage before the full moon, and the anticipation grew with each passing moment, like an itch she couldn’t reach.
Isa and Rhys ran every full moon, but never before it. She was too busy with the restaurant or patrolling or just making sure the kids did their homework. Running early was a treat for them, even if there was a blood sucking dead girl wandering the woods. She tried to rest easy. The kids were safe at home with Gen and Hadley, and Rhys would be with them the whole time. There was nothing to worry about. At least that’s what she told herself as they followed the barely-there path into the woods.
Wren caught Isa’s hand, intertwining their fingers as they trekked to the small cluster of trees just north of the pet cemetery. Isa bumped against him, glancing up at him through her lashes, flushing when he smiled at her. Rhys snorted his derision, throwing in an eye roll for good measure. Isa returned his look and stuck her tongue out at him. She wasn’t letting Rhys’s sour mood dampen her excitement.
Wren slipped his arm over Rhys’s shoulders, tugging him close enough to say, “Remember, we stick together. Whatever is out there in these woods, it’s dangerous. Stay close.” A strange look passed over her brother’s face, but he gave another stilted nod before shrugging out from underneath Wren’s arm.
When they reached their destination, Isa stopped, paying her respect to the animals buried beneath the tiny wooden crosses and stones that marked their graves. As strange as it sounded, she liked the pet cemetery. It was quiet. Peaceful. People rarely came to visit their dead pets. Something Isa found both convenient and depressing.
Wren and Rhys were already stripping down, peeling off their t-shirts and jeans which left Isa with a whole other dilemma. She usually thought nothing of slipping out of her clothes, before shifting into her wolf. Nudity wasn’t something wolves worried about—it was strictly biology—but, somehow, Wren being there made everything different.
It was stupid to be nervous. She’d already allowed him to see most of her body anyway, but there was something about standing before him, completely naked in a non-sexual way that made her jittery and anxious, working over
her already frazzled nerves, until the need to shift was out of her control. Rhys gave another eye roll as Isa stepped behind a group of bushes to slip off her clothes, folding them in a neat pile, before shifting into her wolf.
When she re-emerged, Rhys and Wren were already shifted. Seeing Rhys in his wolf form was always an ache in her chest, like pressing on a wound. He looked so much like their mother’s wolf—silver and gray coat with touches of black around his eyes and muzzle—that she hurt when she looked at him. But it also made her happy, like there was still a tiny bit of her mother that lived on in Rhys. Rhys needed that connection; he’d barely gotten to know their mother before she died. Isa’s wolf looked nothing like her mother, her coat was solid black, like her father’s family. The lycan gene had skipped her dad, but his genetics had still beat out her mother’s.
Looking at Rhys, Wren’s earlier words echoed. He said Rhys would run away, would leave her if she didn’t start showing him how important he was. So, she bumped against him, scenting him, pushing her face against his. He startled away from her, pacing the area, eager to go, to run. Her heart squeezed in her chest. She didn’t know how to make him see he was important to her, that he was the most important thing to her. He was the only family she had left.
Wren’s wolf moved, drawing Isa’s attention, she couldn’t help the way her heart tripped. His wolf was so much like Wren’s human form, less bulk, more lean muscle. He had fawn colored fur and bright blue eyes that glowed in shadows, and he made Rhys’s wolf look small by comparison. Isa’s wolf approved.
She wanted to move closer, but she hesitated, not sure what to expect. She’d run with strangers before—back when her mother was alive when packs came to town regularly for business—but she’d never run with somebody she cared about, somebody who wasn’t her family. It created this strange mixture of anxiety and anticipation. What if their wolves weren’t compatible? What if they saw each other in their most basic form and couldn’t connect.
Rhys whined as if sensing the tension between them. Isa suddenly had no idea what she was supposed to do. Wren bumped against her then, nipping at her ear, pressing his face against her neck, as if trying to sooth her panic. Rhys’s wolf ran off, before returning, circling the two as if herding them deeper into the woods. Wren gave one last nudge to Isa’s neck before darting away, nipping at Rhys’s ankle and taking off at a dead run.
Rhys looked at Isa as if torn, before bounding after Wren. Rhys’s wolf was clearly more at home with Wren’s wolf than their human counterparts. She paused, giving them a head start. The two of them needed this time together. After a few minutes, she took off after them.
As the nearly full moon rose higher in the sky, there was less of Isa and more of her wolf. The three of them stayed close to the house, skirting along the edge of their extensive property. Wren would stop periodically, to check to make sure Isa kept pace with them, but he focused his attention on Rhys. She continued to hang back, watching as the two stalked and hunted bobcats and wild boar. They didn’t kill anything. They weren’t hungry, just flexing that predatory muscle, giving in to their baser instincts. Rhys watched Wren, mimicking everything he did and something within Isa relaxed.
She was content to observe, wishing the other kids could participate, wishing they could experience the pull of the moon and the beauty of the night. The world came alive when Isa was in wolf form, and not even the hot, damp air could ruin it. The trees whispered, and frogs sang. When the wind blew hard enough, she could smell the ocean all the way across town. She vowed to, somehow, find a way to do this more often and make the kids a part of it. They needed to bond. They were family. They were a pack.
When they circled back to the pet cemetery, Rhys bumped his head against Isa’s, and she licked his cheek, pressing her nose to his neck, hoping to convey all the things he needed to hear from her. He looked towards the house and then disappeared behind the trees. He emerged a moment later, dressed in his jeans and t-shirt. He gave a stilted wave to Isa before turning back to the house. Isa watched until he was almost to the back door, then turned to Wren, staring at him intently. She brushed against him once, before she took off at a dead run, looking back to see if he followed.
He did.
He was close, so close he could almost clamp down on her tail. It spurred her to run harder, inhaling deeply, the scent of the forest and the draw of the moon making her feel giddy, almost drunk. When he caught up to her, he bowled her over, biting at her playfully until she righted herself and pounced, going for his throat. He easily sidestepped her attack, before taking off again.
She followed, happy to let him lead her deeper into the forest and further from home. They roamed for hours, stalking and hunting, exploring woods Isa hadn’t ventured into in years, never daring to take Rhys out that far alone. Even as they played, they stayed vigilant, always searching for the monster from Ezri’s tale, but there was no sign of the creature Wren had chased the previous night. Somehow, this monster seemed to have the ability to simply make itself disappear at will. She was glad she hadn’t brought Rhys out this far. He was too young; there was no telling what other predators lurked this deep in the forest…and not just the kind that prowled on four legs. Rhys wasn’t strong enough to defend himself yet.
But Wren was. Wren was strong and powerful—a hunter—and Isa’s wolf couldn’t get enough, couldn’t get close enough. As the moon moved higher into the sky, she grew restless, pressing herself against him, nudging her head under his neck, biting at him. When they reached the lake in the center of the woods, Isa gave him one long look before she dove into the water. She broke the surface in her human form, pushing her hair from her face and arching a brow, practically daring Wren to join her.
He didn’t hesitate, diving into the water, shifting back into his human form as he came up for air. He was no longer a wolf, but the look he gave her was just as voracious. He prowled closer, eyes still glowing, his gaze melting her core. The warm water lapped against her, doing nothing to cool her overheated skin. Isa bit her lip, not sure she was ready to concede just yet.
As he moved closer, she kicked her legs gently, slipping just out of his reach. He grinned. He liked this part. The hunt. She liked it too. When she made to swim further away again, his hand closed around her ankle, reeling her back in, pulling her back to him in one easy tug.
Then his hungry mouth was slanting over hers, his hands dragging her tight against him, swallowing her moan. Heat flooded everywhere he touched, and her pulse thudded heavy at her throat, both excited and terrified at the feelings threatening to overwhelm her.
She needed to be closer. She might be in her human form, but her wolf was in control, and she needed more. She needed everything. Wren wasn’t arguing. He was too busy exploring. He licked at her neck, biting her shoulder, whispering words that chased all rational thoughts from her brain. “
When his hands skimmed along her thighs, she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning at the feel of him. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. She didn’t stop to think, didn’t want to think. She spent her whole life thinking, being cautious. She didn’t want to be cautious with him.
Wren’s lips were at her ear when he whispered, “I want to be inside you. Tell me you want that too.”
She swallowed hard, giving a stilted nod as her brain fell offline. She heard him swear under his breath and then he was carrying her to the dock. When he laid her down and crawled over her, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. She could think of nothing more right than his body pressed against hers, his mouth opening over hers. There was nothing he could do in that moment that she’d refuse.
She just wanted him. She wanted him forever. It didn’t make sense. Four days with Wren and she was ready to give him everything. It was crazy. She was crazy, but she could think of nothing else but making him hers. The idea of anybody else touching him, needing him, loving him, had her growling against his throat and he responded in kind, pressing closer.
W
hen he finally spoke, his voice was a barely human rumble against her skin. “I love you. Even if you don’t believe it. You can hear the truth in my heartbeat. This is real for me. This is it. You and me. You’re mine.”
Her wolf whined at his words. It wasn’t a lie. She loved him too. It made no sense. She didn’t believe in love at first sight. She didn’t believe in soulmates. But she believed in Wren and she trusted her wolf. Her wolf recognized him for what he was. Her mate. Her home. Nothing else mattered.
She let him in…in every way, into her mind, into her heart. She let him into her body, and it was a knife sharp invasion that stole the breath from her lungs, causing Wren to freeze above her. The pain was quick, disappearing as swiftly as it came, replacing it with a feeling of fullness. But still, Wren didn’t move. He lay there, murmuring mindless words into her ear, petting his hands along her body, letting her adjust to the feel of him inside her. He was upset he’d hurt her. Isa could feel the regret pouring off him in waves.
“I’m okay,” she promised, moving her hips beneath him, growing restless, needing more.
He pressed a kiss to her lips, resting his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Please,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m fine. C’mon, move.”
He groaned, rolling his hips against hers as if he couldn’t help himself. She gasped at the strange shocky pleasure/pain that shot through her core. She needed more. “Do that again.”
He did as he was told, staring into her eyes with an intensity that had her forcing herself not to look away. It was too raw. Too real. He was hiding nothing from her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe with him looking at her like that, like she was the only other person in the world. She let her eyes slip closed, focusing on the scent of him, the taste of his skin beneath her tongue, the weight of him as he drove deeper within her.
She didn’t know how to say all the things she wanted to say to him. She had so many things she needed him to know, but the words wouldn’t come. She didn’t know how to tell him that she believed him or that she loved him too, so she did the only thing she could think to do. She tipped her head to the side, baring her throat to him. It meant something. It meant everything. The way his hips stuttered out of rhythm told her he understood, that he knew what she was asking for, what she offered. An alpha would never bare her throat to anybody but her mate. Ever.
