by Patti Larsen
“I’m not giving up on him,” she says. “But I have to check into some things. There has to be an answer.”
I shrug. “Do as you choose,” I say. “Pack law will do the rest.”
She looks like she wants to hit me, but instead her power flares, a gap appearing in the veil. “Don’t shut me out, Charlotte.” Her magic is warm but angry as she hugs me with it. “Not me, of all people. We’ll find a way.”
I watch her go without comment, and as the veil closes behind her, I nod.
She might have her own plans, but I’ve my own to enact. There is a way. And I’m going to make it.
***
Chapter Thirty Four
Oleksander’s anger is nothing versus my silence and he eventually sends me from him after only a short time. When he called for me after Sage was taken down to the cells, I went willingly. But I chose not to allow my grandfather’s disappointment and judgment stop me from my path.
I must save Sage.
I leave the throne room as silently as I entered and head for the hall on the other side of the main staircase. Werewolves avoid my eyes, my witch and vampire friends now gone. I have no support here, it seems, my people no longer trusting me. Let them believe what they like. Let them believe Caine or Andre Dumont. They can all burn in hell for all I care.
Have I really written off my entire race for the love of one normal man?
Yes. Yes, I have.
I’m stopped at the bottom of the narrow staircase leading to the dungeons. I’ve been here many times before, as a child to be shown the error of disobeying, often left in a cage for days at a time with no food or water, only my werewolf strength and resiliency to keep me alive. And again, when I returned after the breaking of my bond to Syd, once again under the cruel hand of the Czar and his sorcerers.
But this is the first time I’ve ventured down here as a free werewolf. And I like it even less. There is something about it that makes me feel powerless, so when Roman appears at the base of the stairs and holds up one hand, I pause without thinking to do otherwise.
“You’re not permitted here.” His teeth flash in the light, tattoos traveling up his neck toward the dark stubble on his face making him appear like an ancient, carved idol.
But he’s not alone, and when Maksym’s face joins his, heavy hand pulling Roman back, I start my final descent, reaching the cold stone floor as the pair face off.
“Who says?” Maks bristles. I believe his guilt over being involved in this mess is making him aggressive.
Roman just snarls as though unaccustomed to being questioned.
“Since when were you made a wereguard?” Please, Grandfather. Oh, please.
“The king has welcomed our pack,” Roman says with a flat smile. “Sorry you missed it.”
That’s it. Oleksander is either senile or he’s so clever I can’t see his end game. But I can’t worry about my grandfather right now, or the werenation, or anything else. Not when my heart hurts behind bars just a few feet away.
“Out of the way, both of you.” I push them aside with measured power, taking in Roman’s hate and Maks’s sadness at my harsh treatment of him. “Or call for my grandfather. Pick one.”
Neither moves so I step past them and deeper into the hallway. The first cell is occupied, I don’t have to go far to stand before the bars and look in on Sage.
He’s awake, sitting on the edge of the narrow wooden bunk creaking under his weight, the chains holding it to the wall swaying slightly. My hand rises and grips the bars, whitening, bones jutting outward as my only physical display of distress appears through my grasp on that iron bar.
Sage looks up, bleary eyed, but clear and aware. He stands and comes to me, wary at first. But he must see something in my eyes that pulls him closer because he gives up his suspicion and ends up with one of his own hands holding the same bar I do, just below mine. I look down at his strong fingers, his big hand and just managed to suppress a shudder.
“Charlie.” He whispers my name. “What the hell?”
“I have a long story to tell you,” I whisper back. “And you’re not going to believe or even understand most of it. But you have the right to know what’s happening to you.”
I gesture for him to sit, but he won’t leave my proximity, leaning forward until his forehead is pressed to the space between the bars. “I can handle it,” he says. “If it explains how I ended up in a dungeon with a wolf bite and a death sentence.”
He’s so calm, I almost weep for him. How can he be so composed at a time like this? But that is Sage and I’m grateful he’s willing to listen instead of flying off into a rage.
I tell him, explaining as carefully as I can about werewolves and magic and witches. He listens, face blank, though occasionally his green eyes widen and one brow arches before settling again.
Neither of us moves as I walk him through my history, some of the past years I’ve spent with Syd and who she really is. Maybe it’s not my place to share that information, but Sage has to know everything if what I’m going to attempt has a chance of working.
When I finally tell him of the revenants, he nods once.
“So I’m going to turn into a slavering psychopath without a soul, hell bent on converting everyone I can get my hands on into being just like me?” Sage’s hand slips upward, skin touching mine.
“Something like that,” I say. “Unless.”
He stays still. “Unless?”
“We can find a cure.” I catch Roman listening from my peripheral vision. “Syd and the others are still working on it.”
“But if there was hope, I would still be upstairs,” Sage says, “and not down here.”
I don’t comment. I can’t, not with Caine’s spy hovering, watching my every move.
Sage must sense my reticence, because he doesn’t press me. “So now what?”
“We wait for you to turn the first time,” I say. “They can’t kill you until it happens. Pack law.”
He barks a laugh, making me jump. “How kind of them.” His anger shows for the first time as he pulls free of the bar and spins, going to his bunk. Sage stands there, head down, shoulders bowed as I try to find something to say.
All I can think of is how different the revenant in the woods felt. How Sage doesn’t have the dark scent I associate with the bodies in the morgue. And my mind drifts to our healing, to the salvation of my race. To Syd and our freedom.
Could shedding the sorcery that contained us have changed the way revenants emerge? I gasp softly to myself. No, I won’t allow hope. I must, instead, embrace determination and my willingness to give up everything. If the time comes I can explore such an idea, I will take it. Maybe hand it over to Syd or Femke to look into.
I have a more important job to do.
Sharlotta. Oleksander’s mental voice is dark and heavy, but he doesn’t have the same anger in him he did earlier. Your vampire friends are returned.
Coming. I hate to leave Sage, but it won’t be for long. “I have to go.”
He doesn’t turn, just nods. I want to tell him not to be afraid, that I’ll be back for him, very soon. But I can’t. And it’s better if he doesn’t know what I have planned.
The throne room feels as oppressive as his cell as I enter to find Sebastian and Alison talking with my grandfather. Sebastian looks up as I come in, smiling softly at me.
“I have an idea,” he says before Oleksander can speak. “If Sage will be willing.”
“If it will save his life,” I say.
“It may.” Sebastian nods to his silent companion. “It was Alison’s idea and I must say I’m embarrassed I didn’t think of it.”
She blushes past her paleness and bobs a nod to me. “I was thinking, we could make him a vampire.”
I gape at her and then at Sebastian, echoing his sentiment. Why didn’t I consider such a possibility myself?
“There are no promises it will work,” the handsome vampire tells me and my grandfather. Am I wrong or does Oleksander look
more eager about this offering of assistance than I thought he would? “But we can certainly make the effort if it will mean his life.”
“You’re offering him an out?” What is Caine doing here? I turn to snarl at him, but he ignores me, injecting himself, unwelcome, into our conversation as I remember Roman’s words. Wereguards. Members of our court, now, officially. Why did Oleksander keep this from me?
Because he knew I’d fight him on it.
Caine’s heavy disapproval settles on my grandfather. “Haven’t you already given enough time and energy to this normal than is required by pack law?”
Oleksander looks like he wants to argue, but he simply shrugs. “What is one more attempt to save this boy?”
Caine snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I understand now the weakness in our race,” he says, full of spite and scorn. “Being led by a werewolf who won’t follow through with his own laws to appease other races.”
I pounce on him, but Oleksander is quicker, pulling me back, snarling in my ear. I stand down, though Caine’s grin and wink almost does me in.
“Our days of being controlled and led by others are over,” Oleksander says to Caine. “And that includes being bullied by other weres. I may have welcomed you and your pack to join the wereguard, but that does not give you the right to challenge my word. Unless you plan to fight me for the throne.” Caine doesn’t comment. My grandfather lets me go and turns to Sebastian with a grim expression. “But Caine is correct about one thing. The boy is a revenant and, according to our law, must pay the price for his infection.” I gape at him while he goes on. “While there was a chance the witches might heal him, that option is no longer on the table. And by creating a vampire out of him, we have no idea what kind of new race we could be giving form to if he has both werewolf revenant and vampire abilities.” I hadn’t thought of that, but it seemed a terrible excuse to let Sage die. “For that reason alone, though your offer is kind, I must refuse.”
Sebastian bows to my grandfather, though his blue eyes never leave mine. “Understood, Your Majesty.”
I jerk my arm free from Oleksander’s grip. “Excuses and platitudes,” I snap, forgetting we’re in public, that others are there to witness me speak out against my king. “You just want this to go away.”
My grandfather roars at me, the air vibrating with the volume of his voice. “And had you done your duty,” he bellows, “we wouldn’t be standing here. You, Sharlotta, have brought this on us. And you will bear the guilt of that boy’s death for the rest of your life.”
I turn and storm out, his words echoing in my head, hating him for reminding me this is all my fault.
***
Chapter Thirty Five
The forest calls me, the swiftness of my paws over the dead leaves carrying me into the dark. I pant out my anger into the fresh air while with each step my resolve deepens. I am no princess, no potential queen. I am a failure and meant only to follow where others lead. But I can’t step back and take a supporting role just yet.
I have to save Sage first, and then face the consequences of my actions.
The white wolf appears, running at my side, her tail striking my leg as she comes close enough to brush against me. I come to a halt, letting the mist of my exhale carry up from my muzzle into the chill air. She stops, sitting on her haunches, looking up at me with her wise and quiet eyes. She knows something is troubling me, I feel it in her and as her alpha joins her, I know he senses it, too.
I sink to my knees before them, shifting to human, holding out my hands. They come to me, sitting before me, leaning in as I reach out and touch them. The white wolf licks my cheek, the big alpha groaning softly as I scratch his ear.
“My friends,” I say softly into their fur. “I’m going away for a while.” Maybe forever. I have no idea how this will end up, where I will end up. But I have to try, even if it means sentencing myself to death to do it.
The alpha chuffs, but the white wolf doesn’t react aside from holding my gaze.
“I have to save him, you understand.” I stroke their fur in a slow rhythm, the contact comforting. “Grandfather is right—this is my fault. And I have to make it right if I can.” I look up at the rising moon appearing over top of the trees. “The answer has to be in California. Where Caine and his people came from.”
The white wolf whines at Caine’s name, nudging me with her nose.
“You don’t like him, either.” I soothe her with a scratch on her jaw. “I’m sure I’m right about him. But I need proof to make this work. And to save Sage.”
How much do they understand? I want to believe they are far smarter than we think they are.
“Talking to your pets, Charlotte?” I spin, swift and furious, to find Caine watching me. How did I miss his approach? The white wolf and alpha both bristle, snarling at him but he ignores them, circling me slowly, naked in the chill air. “How sentimental. I’ll be sure to beat that out of you when we have the opportunity for a corrective lesson.” His teeth flash as I snarl at him. “Andre told me you are a terrible student. I’ll be sure to be extra firm with you.”
“I’ll kill you before I let you touch me.” My werewolf wants to return, but I hold human form, putting myself between the wolves and Caine despite their aggression. I don’t want him to harm them.
“I’m not some weak-minded witch,” Caine says, voice lowering and vibrating with need. “I’m one of your own kind. I know just how much you can take. The edges of your sanity. And I will enjoy taking you there over and over again, until I break you.”
Maybe I should be afraid, but I pay no attention to his threats. Let him think he has power over me while I explore his magic, the feeling of him. For future reference. If I’m going to find the one who made him—and I’m sure now he’s a revenant, more than ever—I will need to remember how his magic tastes. Sour, bitter, corrupt, but familiar as the dead bodies in Femke’s morgue.
Do I dare call him out? Not yet. No one will believe me without proof. California and his maker are my only hope to defeat Caine and to save Sage.
Caine is closing the distance between us, but I hold my ground. The two wolves snap and snarl, trying to lunge at him. He laughs at them, comes to a halt only a few feet from me.
“Shall we begin your training right now?”
A shiver of disgust traces the length of my spine, just as the air beside me parts and Syd steps through. She takes one look at Caine and winces, turning her head.
“Dude,” she says. “Where are your damned clothes? Yikes.”
He snarls at her and Syd rolls her eyes back. “Mind your own business, witch.”
She hits him hard with a bolt of energy, casually, knocking him on his ass. “That’s maji to you,” she says. “Now, beat it before I decide to take an interest.”
Caine leaves, shifting into werewolf form. But he locks eyes with me one last time, mind ripping through me.
You’re mine, he snarls in my head.
Go to hell. I watch him go before turning to face my friend. I’m sad to notice the two wolves are long gone.
“He’s a douche,” Syd says. “Tell me you’re going to do something permanent to him?”
I nod, slumping a little. “Eventually.”
“Good. Oh, my demon suggests dismemberment, but it’s up to you.” Syd tries to grin but it fades in the face of my stoicism. “Charlotte, give me a break, here. I’m trying.”
“I know.” I manage a shrug. “I’m sorry, I don’t have much to give right now.”
She lets out a heavy breath. “Fair enough. Listen, I’m off to get Max.” She reaches for the veil she didn’t quite let close. “Maybe he and the drach can manage something. And, if not, I was thinking about Demonicon.”
I frown at her. “Demonicon?”
“If you have to run.” She doesn’t seem all that upset about the idea. “We know you can exist there. Maybe Sage can, too. Meems will be more than happy to help.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Though the odd c
reature I became when I crossed to the demon plane made me shudder.
“Thank you.” At least I knew she wasn’t quitting on me. Made me feel worse about what I was about to do.
“Anything for you.” Syd hugs me quickly. “Meanwhile, Lula and Phon are hard at it, researching. We’ll find an answer, Charlotte. But keep me posted. If Sage shifts, I can be here in an eyeblink and take the two of you to safety.”
I nod for the last time, mute. I will not have her put herself or her coven at risk for me. But I’m grateful for her, none the less. This is my mistake and mine to fix.
Syd leaves, but I’m not alone. I feel him lurking, watching and finally sigh and turn toward the dark trees where he hides. “Come talk to me, Piers,” I say.
He emerges, longcoat catching in the brambles. He swears softly before jerking his hem free and coming to my side. Piers’s face is sad, his hurt clear on his face though he does try to hide it behind his usual swagger.
“So a normal, huh?”
I shrug. “It’s a long story.”
Piers jams his hands into his pockets. “I bet.”
“Thank you for being here for me.” I mean every word.
“I’m sorry things turned out this way.” Piers pauses before going on. “Don’t do anything stupid, please. Promise me.”
I’m terrible at lying so I don’t say anything. That’s all the answer he needs. Desperation crosses his face before he sighs and hugs me. Then leaves me alone in the quiet forest.
It’s best this way.
***
Chapter Thirty Six
It’s a relief to see two new guards standing watch over Sage. Though I would have loved a chance to fight Roman, I would have hated to hurt Maks. As it is, these wereguards are both my grandfather’s and they fall before they understand I’m there to take them out.
Perhaps they are unable to comprehend I’m willing to risk everything for a normal. Certainly, such a decision would be beyond them. And that is my advantage.
