Above This Grave (The Cloven Pack Series: Book Three)

by D. Fischer

  Bre, Darla, Irene, and Evo are upstairs in the Alphas’ bedroom with Kenna, hovering over her. Before we left to check the damage, Irene said Kenna isn’t in real labor, but she’s subjected to resting the remainder of her pregnancy. Kenna doesn’t like it but Irene told her if she didn’t start taking care of herself, the baby would come early. It was enough to shut Kenna’s mouth.

  The new wolves are unloading their belongings, while Kelsey is showing them to their quarters.

  “What’s the plan?” I ask Ben, picking up a twig and examining the clean, snapped end.

  Ben places his hands on his hips, blowing out a puff of air. “I guess we start by creating a pile to be burned.” He pivots to me. “Feel like a bonfire tomorrow night?”

  Still examining the twig, I ask, “You think the wood will be dry by then?”

  “It’s supposed to be a hot one tomorrow,” Jeremy comments. “I bet it’ll be dry by then.”

  Ben smiles impishly. “If not, we can always help it along.”

  I shrug, pretending indifference, when in reality, I’m glad he didn’t mention a Pack run. I haven’t shifted since I came back. I’m not ready for that yet—my trust for the creature has yet to be regained.

  I walk over to the first branch and throw it next to the large fire pit. It seems like a lifetime ago that we had used it. The last time we had a fire, a Rogue wolf shot up the place and several wolves to go with it. Dyson was one of the wounded. Speaking of . . .

  “Where’s Dyson?” I shout to Ben. He’s staring at the other end of the spacious backyard.

  He shrugs his shoulders and walks the distance to put a chunk of tree trunk next to my branch. “Probably in his quarters.”

  I roll my eyes. The least he could do is give a hand. The more time that passes, the more I question what I saw in our friendship. We’re nothing alike.

  . . . Or maybe we’re no longer the same people.

  I quickly shut down that thought and whistle a tune, going to the next branch and burying my troubles.

  Irene Scott

  The door chimes as I step into the shop. The smell of incense reaches my sensitive nose, causing it to twitch.

  A chipper Katriane smiles from behind the cashier counter. “Ira,” she greets before dropping her smile and frowning. “Did you drive through that storm?”

  Her dipped eyebrows distort her adorable pixie features. She’s a beautiful woman, with a button nose, large almond eyes, and a pitch black, pixie haircut.

  Katriane Dupont, or Kat, is a witch from the Demi-Lune Coven. A little over six months ago, she conducted a double unity service in the Cloven Pack territory. For a mating to properly occur, a witch must perform this sacred event. A unity service ties a mated pair to the earth. Since witches draw magic from the earth, wolf shifters and witches often work close together and keep close relationships. Kat and I have a great friendship and I visit her shop often.

  Kat owns this shop, Lunaire, where she sells witchcraft objects and herbal remedies. Most of her witch-related inventory is fake . . . unless you go through the closed door and to the back of the shop. Behind that closed door is where she has all the real witchcraft objects.

  Though Kat is a petite little thing, she can hold her own. Unlike most witches, she’s outspoken, has a great sense of morals and justice, and she’s the black sheep—as in, she doesn’t dress the part. Most witches are conservative. They refuse to draw attention to themselves. Kat, on the other hand, likes to dress in black and tattoos cover much of her skin. There’s more to this girl than meets the eye, that much I’m sure of.

  Most witches live in a house or on a property together. It’s similar to what Packs do, except they don’t shift into another form. Their Covens are generally small because they keep their numbers low. It’s a purposeful act. Secrecy is more important to them than it is to us. They’ve been sacrificed more throughout history than shifters have. The magical trait is passed down by DNA, with one exception: males born from a witch will have no magical powers.

  The witches’ history and customs are extensive and they fascinate me.

  Crossing the shop, I pick up a tiny statue of their crescent placed next to the register. Heavy and about the size of my hand, I take note of the smooth surface of the half-moon with a strike through it. It’s such a simple symbol, but I find it interesting how ironic it is. Wolf shifters are thought to be werewolves that are held by the moon and here’s a witch coven, and a dear friend of mine, whose crest is a half-moon.

  “Well, actually, I was sort of in it,” I comment distractedly, still lost in my own thoughts.

  “Like, ‘in it,’ in it?”

  I glance up at her, her little brows are still furrowed. “Sure was. I’m staying with the Cloven Pack. Their Alpha female is pregnant.” I set the statue back on the counter and rest my elbows on the glass surface.

  Kat’s face lights up with acknowledgment. “Oh yes, I’ve heard about this. This is the Alpha female in the double unity, isn’t it?” I nod confirmation. “Yes, yes. Isn’t she a Queen Alpha?” I nod again. “I hear she has can be a real bitch,” she adds, one of her eyebrows lifting.

  I laugh at her outspoken truth. “She can, yes. But I think it has more to do with her upbringing. I’m told it wasn’t a pleasant one. She’s actually a nice gal, but she hides it behind her words.”

  Kat twists her lips to the side, considering this information. “Makes sense, I suppose.” A smile replaces her twisted lips. “So, what brings you by today?”

  I stand up straight. “The Cloven Pack Alpha female, Kenna, has preeclampsia and some strong Braxton Hicks. Do you have anything to help with her blood pressure?”

  Kat holds up a finger and walks around the counter, heading toward the herbs. While she searches, I strike up conversation. “How’s the Coven?” I ask.

  She keeps her back to me as she replies, “There was a virus spreading through the Coven . . .” She grabs a little bottle of dried herbs and walks around the back of the counter. “My mom still asks when I’m going to settle down with a man. I tell her I enjoy the random romps and I’ll leave the ‘getting hitched’,” she finger-quotes with her free hand, “to the more boring folks.” She quickly changes the subject, flipping the conversation back to me. “What about you? How are you liking the Cloven Pack?”

  I clear my throat, uncomfortable with her finger-quoted words. I’ve found my mate, I want to ‘get hitched,’ but unfortunately, that scenario isn’t in the cards for me. I have a hot mate and I refuse to even touch him.

  “It’s a nice Pack. Much smaller than the Riva Pack and very close-knit,” I say. I completely elude the topic of Flint. No way do I want to have that discussion with someone who doesn’t believe in mates.

  She nods and rings me up. “What are you doing tomorrow night? Want to hang out?”

  I check the total on the small screen and hand her the cash. “Actually, we’re having a Pack bonfire. If you want, you can come along,” I suggest with a shrug. “I didn’t get to go to the last one they had.”

  I had a mother in labor during the Cloven Pack’s last bonfire. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t go since the entire party was shot up by a Rogue. Reese spent the next few days hovering over her gunshot patients like a mother hen.

  The Riva Pack is a quiet Pack. We’ve never had any enemies. So when two of our wolves came back with injuries from a simple wolf shifter gathering, it was talked about for weeks.

  She nods again and places my purchased herbs in a small bag. “Sounds like a riot. I’ve never been to a shifter party before.”

  I smile at her. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  I grab my sack and head toward the door, waving as I exit. Though wet with fresh rain, the pavement radiates heat up to my exposed calves. I walk back to my car at the side of the shop and fish for my keys inside my small purse. Pressing the unlock button, I hop inside my car and distractedly insert them into the ignition.

  Driving through the rest of town, I pull o
nto the quiet blacktop and continue my way back to the Cloven Pack territory.

  Irene? my Alpha, Jacob, asks telepathically.

  Jacob? Are you okay? A small part of me panics for the reason he’s reaching out.

  Yes, we’re fine. We got the tail end of the storm. I just saw on the news—was the Cloven Pack hit with a tornado?

  I sigh in relief, the paranoid side of me and my wolf retreating back inside. Yes, we- I mentally stumble in my speech -they were. I remind myself that this isn’t my Pack. After a moment of silence, I continue, No one was hurt and there wasn’t any damage done to the house. A thinning of the woods is all.

  I could hear the relief in his words. That’s good. Call me if the Pack needs help cleaning the mess.

  I’m about to respond when my attention is pulled to the cars in my review mirror. This road is never busy. I frown as a black SUV drives in the wrong lane, speeds past me, and puts on its brakes.

  My lungs seize in my chest, I slam my foot down on the brake pedal, and my car screeches to a halt. My wolf growls inside me, furious about the lack of safety in this situation.

  “What the fuck?” I shout, banging my hand on the horn. I look out all my windows and realize I’m boxed in. One car in front—the asshole who slammed on his brakes—one in the opposite lane beside me, and one car at the rear. I’m not going anywhere.

  The SUV’s door opens and I groan when I recognize the face as he heads in my direction, flicking the end of his cigarette onto the road. Embers bob along the pavement until they spark out of life.

  “What now, Zane?” I mumble to myself. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I unlock my doors. There’s no sense in trying to keep him out—he’ll just break the glass. Rogue wolves have no quarrels with such things, I’ve learned.

  I roll down my window instead of climbing out of the car. I don’t want to exit unless it’s necessary. Last time, I was nearly tackled to the ground.

  He approaches my window and peers inside. No doubt checking for weapons. Satisfied, he leans back and says in an emotionless tone, “Get out of the car.”

  I blink at him and sigh, resigning to my fate. Exiting the car, I turn my attention to Luke as he giggles hysterically. His clothes are, yet again, soiled in grease, with slimy blond hair to match. His blackened teeth make me cringe as he shoots me one more smile before he passes a black cloth to Zane, and hops in my car. My teeth grind as he turns on my radio, pressing a button to switch from my jazz station and blares rock through my speakers.

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” he hoots over the music. I cringe again.

  I glance at the black cloth in Zane’s hand. Void of words and emotion, he places it over my head and my world goes dark. Only sounds guide me as he shoves me into his SUV.

  ChapterEight

  Flint Rockland

  Kenna throws her hands into the air. “Will you guys stop the chit-chat?” she asks. “You’re making the baby excited, which makes him,” she pauses with a frown, “or her sucker-punch my kidneys.” She winces in pain and her hands fly to her swollen stomach.

  Evo and Kenna had decided not to find out the gender. Something about wanting it to be a surprise. I don’t like surprises—I’d rather know what I’m in for.

  Kenna, sitting next to me on the couch, sighs when the chatter dies down. Evo stands from his seat next to her and moves to the front of the living room, effectively blocking the TV. Introductions have already been made for the new Pack members, but all anyone seems to be talking about is the tornado. It’s understandable, but we have more important things to worry about.

  Bre, laying on the floor with her head in Ben’s lap, turns to Kenna. “Where’s Irene?” she asks.

  “She said something about a spice shop? Or a witch hunt?” She sighs, closes her eyes, and rubs the space between her eyebrows. “Fucking hell, I can’t remember which.”

  A slow smile creeps across Bre’s face and I do my best not to laugh. Kenna, feeling my emotions without even having to look at me, hits me in the chest before the laughter can escape. It feels good to laugh. I haven’t been doing that much lately. The feeling spreads warmth to areas that have been drowning in darkness. The feeling is exhilarating—a close second to an adrenaline rush.

  I’d been wondering where Irene was, but I didn’t want to voice it aloud. I had figured she was in her room, not feeling the need to be in on a Pack meeting when she wasn’t a Pack member. Which is something I plan to quickly change.

  Evo’s snarl spreads across the room, and we again quiet our chatter, sheepish looks on our faces.

  “Alright, so everyone has met the new members, yes?” The room fills with bobble heads. “Good, then we’ll skip the introductions. With the damage from the tornado, we’ll have an abundance of wood to burn. Tomorrow night, we’ll have a bonfire to get rid of all the debris.”

  Darla crosses her legs, pride in her posture. “Kelsey and I have already mapped out the meal.”

  Evo’s teeth grind, his ears flexing with the movement, for being interrupted again, but he nods anyway. Before he can speak, chatter fills the room.

  Victoria leans toward Darla. “I can help with that, too.”

  Romaine’s broad shoulders push forward as he leans his elbows against his knees. “Was there any more damage aside from the trees?”

  My eyes land on Dyson when he looks at Kelsey. “What are we having?” I watch him closely. He hasn’t been talking . . . or participating for that matter, in any group settings. His clothes are wrinkled, he has crumbs on his shirt, and stubble has surfaced across his jaw. His hair is a mess and he has dark circles under his eyes. Maybe he’s right, I’m not the only one who’s trying to deal with the cards they’ve been dealt. Too busy holding a grudge, I haven’t given Dyson the time of day since my wolf let me shift. I purse my lips, considering.

  Evo answers Romaine, “No. So far all the damage is secluded to the woods.” He turns back to the room, his whistle bouncing off the walls and vibrating my eardrums. Kenna and Bre cover their ears while Ben holds back a smile and glances at me. Seems like adding new members to the Pack is going to be a bit of an adjustment to our once small and manageable numbers.

  “Now that I have your attention,” he growls, “what’s this about missing Gray Pack members?”

  Ben walks Evo through everything we’ve learned, from the wolves sneaking off in the night, to the empty safe. I watch as Evo’s face twists in anger at certain points in the recap. He tries his best to hide his feelings on the matter, but he’s failing miserably. Kenna, uncomfortable with his emotions, shifts in her seat. I put my arm around her and let her lean against me while we listen to our Alpha and Beta’s discussion.

  Evo Johnson

  I sit down heavily in my office chair, a huff of air leaving the cushioned leather seat. Today has been exhausting. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. The only good thing about today is that I felt the baby kick my cheek as I pressed my face against Kenna’s belly.

  With my hand, I gesture for Ben to sit in the office chair in front of me. He takes a seat, searching my eyes. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Who’s our only enemy left? We already know she was conspiring with George Kenner, and she was mates with Chris Kenner. It stands to reason . . .”

  He rests his elbows on his knees and nods. “She would most likely know about the safe.”

  I scratch my chin, bits and pieces of this aren’t fitting together. “How’d she open the safe?”

  “I don’t know.” Ben scrubs his face and leans back in his chair, defeated from today’s events, just as me. “The new wolves seem to be fitting in nicely.”

  I pick up a pen and twirl it in my fingers, eager for a switch of subject. “Yeah? All moved in?”

  Ben nods before we both get lost in our thoughts. The pen continues to twirl in my fingers before it clinks on my wooden desk and drops to the carpet. I don’t bother picking it up. Not this time.

  The sound broke Ben’s silenc
e. “Where the hell did all the other wolves go? And why disappear without a word?”

  I frown. “Maybe we should send out a search party.”

  “For who? Jazz or the missing wolves?”

  Shrugging, I turn down my lips for a moment. “Both.”

  He shakes his head. “A lot of hell that’ll do. We wouldn’t know where to start.”

  I rub my eyebrow, placing as much pressure as I can into the muscle as I rub back and forth. “Yeah.”

  Ben scratches his head. “Maybe she conspired with the missing Gray Pack members. One of them probably knew the passcode.”

  The skin on the back of my arms squeak against the leather as I lift them in a shrug. “I’d rather not jump to conclusions, though. Otherwise, we’ll be searching for the wrong thing. Let’s keep this information to ourselves for now.”

  Ben nods, his eyes downcast.

  Irene Scott

  Zane opens the side door of the SUV and grabs my arm.

  “I can do it, damn it,” I bark. He drops his hand and growls at my outburst.

  Blindfolded and with my hands tied, I carefully shimmy to the side of the seat and place my feet on the gravel driveway. The sun beats on my skin as I stand upright after exiting the car. My head shifts left and right, though I can’t see anything. It’s an automatic response.

  The chirping birds and the trees rustling in the wind are my only background noise. Ending his growl, Zane rips the black bag from my head, taking strands of my hair with it. I yelp in surprise, not expecting such abrupt pain.

  I squint my eyes and adjust to the light. Everything is exactly as I remembered from my visit during the winter, except little critters scurry about within the unkempt green grass around the large shed.

  Yanking me along, Zane walks toward the shed as the other cars pull in and park behind the SUV.

  The large metal doors open for us and we step inside to the surprisingly cool temperature of the shed. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the darker interior, a headache forming behind them from the constant changes in light.