Bryan nodded. “And he’s threatened Kev. I think we need to figure out how much of a danger this guy is.”
“He has to have come from somewhere,” Deanna said. “He can’t have just appeared from nowhere.”
“What do we know about him?” Evaline asked. “Kev?”
“According to his response to my initial challenge,” Kevin said, “his name is Patrick Lucian.”
Sonja’s forehead furrowed. “That sounds familiar. Keep talking.”
Kevin shrugged. “He’s obviously an elvenmage, I’d guess he’s in his thirties, give or take. The first time I ran into him, I got the distinct impression that he wasn’t very strong—I was terrified I’d burned him out completely instead of just backlashing him when I lost my temper. The second time, he tore my shields into shreds in a matter of minutes, in a city alley with hardly any light, and he was throwing stuff at me that I suspect would’ve tired me out even in full daylight if I could figure out how to do it in the first place—serious combat-magic stuff I’ve never seen before. I still don’t know how I got out of that in one piece, there was some sort of bizarre reaction with a storm that was building, or something.” He kept his suspicions about what Shaine had been doing to himself—it wasn’t relevant, and he had no proof. “How Shaine would know, I have no idea, but he said it was demon-magic. That’s as good an explanation as any, I guess, there were some severely strange colours in his shields. He seems to get in a snit as soon as someone interferes with what he wants to do.”
“Or when you interfere with what he wants to do,” Sonja said thoughtfully. “There was a Lucian mage in Falias, I can’t recall his first name, who left the village ten or twelve years ago with no explanation. I wasn’t all that old at the time, and I was rather distracted ‘cause my gifts were starting to wake up and drive me nuts…”
Nick closed a hand around hers. “Anything you can remember is more than we have.”
“He was a mage, but not a very strong one. We’re talking, say, with the average elf a one, and an Adept a ten, and Kev and Lori around eight or nine, he was about a four or five.”
“Unlikely to ever become Adept, but still, respectably strong,” Lori observed.
“He never thought so. He was convinced that everyone looked down on him for it, and that stronger mages had special status that he’d been cheated of. The Lucians in Falias are a lot like the Haven branch—they turn up reasonably strong mages fairly consistently, but not very many Adepts.” She frowned. “I can remember, vaguely, bits of major scenes he started, claiming that the villages have a hierarchy based on family and power. Some junk about wolves believing they’re the master race, too. Really warped stuff, my parents kept me out of hearing as much as they could. Mostly it was the strong emotions catching my attention, before I had much control.”
“Which would certainly account for the reaction to phoenix telling him what to do,” Bane reflected. “It’s not like you’re subtle, magically speaking, Kev.”
“Yeah, and thrashing him so easily the first time probably didn’t help,” Kevin sighed. “How was I supposed to know?” Oh yes, being strong has made my life oh-so-much easier. My own mother’s terrified of me!
“You couldn’t have known, and I’d’ve done the same,” Lori said firmly. “So. It does sound like the same person. Which means we have an extremely unstable elvenmage running around, possibly making pacts with demons to give him the power he feels he should have had by birth, and he has a grudge against Kev for being strong and daring to tell him not to do something. We have no idea at all what his interest in Jess is.”
“Demon pacts always have prices,” Samantha said quietly. “Given that it sounds quite likely that he is making bargains with demons and appears to be asking for power, the price is highly likely to involve blood and pain and possibly death, depending on how deeply into it he’s gone. Be very, very glad you kept him away from Jess, Kev.”
A kind of unanimous shudder ran through the room, as the thought occurred to each of what that could have meant to Jess, had this other mage gotten ahold of him.
“As for the change in power level, I would hazard a guess that you caught him by surprise the first time, before he had a chance to draw on power through his allies. Without them, he has only what nature gave him, and it’s a shame you didn’t burn him out completely at the time, while he was vulnerable—although, again, there’s no way you could have known. With them, well, the lowest prices are on enhancing what’s already there. Did he do anything that you would consider outside your element?”
Kevin shook his head. “I’ve never met a mage who bothered with combat stuff that heavily, but it was all fire and light.” Now where on earth did Sam learn all this stuff about demons? Not that I’m ever going to find out, I bet.
Sam nodded. “Then he probably hasn’t gone so deep that he’s killing frequently, but that power has to come from somewhere. And the most readily available source, if you’re into quick gratification and a lot of power, is the gifts and emotions and energy of others.”
Bane growled, and the other wolves all tensed. “He’s turned himself into a predator.”
“Essentially, yes, except that instead of feeding to stay alive, he’s feeding for the sake of power.”
Evaline made a disgusted noise, deep in her throat. “That’s worse than predators.”
“I would say so.”
“And he’s a little too interested in Jess,” Naomi said slowly.
“But we don’t even know where Jess is to warn him, let alone to help him stay safe,” Gisela said miserably, all the colour gone from beneath her honey-tan skin.
“There’s another thing to consider,” Sam said, though she sounded as though she were weighing every word. “I’ve been reluctant to bring this up because I can’t explain how I know, but I… have reason to believe that there’s one coven in Haven summoning demons. I think it’s still only experimentation, but it could get very bad, very quickly, if they call the wrong demon or make even a small mistake.”
“Who?” Bryan demanded. “Who’s that insane?”
Sam sighed. “Whitethorn. Which is another reason I don’t expect to be believed outside this room.”
Kevin didn’t think he’d ever heard a room go so quiet.
Oh, Becky, what the hell are you doing? Nothing’s worth that…
“Other than the coincidence of both summoning demons and both having gone after Jess,” Lori said, “is there reason to believe that there’s a direct connection?”
Sam bit her lower lip. “It… I… It might be just this Lucian after Jess for his own reasons and Whitethorn for, well, whatever actually goes through the minds of Whitethorn. But it… it isn’t impossible that there’s some degree of demon interest in Jess underlying both. What I do know for sure is that I would feel much safer having Jess right here, because no hostile demon is going to get through the protections Starluck built into the outer walls, ever. I’m not sure it matters, because there’s nothing we can do about it that we weren’t doing anyway.” Black and white Hob climbed onto her lap; automatically, she began to rub his ears.
“And you’re right, there’s no chance Katherine and Tomas would believe an accusation about Whitethorn from this direction,” Lori said unhappily. “We’d have to tackle them ourselves.”
“I’d really rather you didn’t. I prefer you alive. I’ll let you know if I have any reason to believe they’re placing anyone else at risk, and we can rethink what to do.”
“And you seriously can’t tell us how you know this?”
“I really can’t. I’m sorry.”
Though Sam’s reticence about her past was something they’d all accepted long ago as her own choice, Kevin wondered whether he were the only one finding it considerably harder to take at the moment; he doubted it. Still, it would take extremely persuasive evidence to convince the Adepts, or most of the rest of Haven, that it wasn’t an attempt at retaliation.
He couldn’t find it in him to doubt her,
though; for her to bring it up, she’d have to be very sure.
“Great,” Kevin muttered. “Bane and I screw up, now Jess is out there in very bad danger he doesn’t even know about, and alone unless Shaine finds him. I didn’t think I could feel worse.”
“Not useful,” Lori told him firmly. “We’ve been over that. Back on track. Knowing this, now what?”
“I think,” Flynn sighed, “we’re going to have to just hope like hell that he comes home on his own or that we find him again and can convince him to, and meanwhile trust to whatever luck has kept Jess alive this long to keep him that way a bit longer.”
34
On four feet, Jess sniffed around in the small patch of wild weeds and stunted trees behind a mini-strip-mall of half a dozen stores. He could smell raccoon, was certain that it was close, and coon would certainly taste better than rat or skunk or squirrel. Now, where was it? He lifted his head from the tangled trails on the ground, searching the air for any clues as to which direction he should try.
A combination of scents that had nothing to do with coon tore a growl from him and raised his hackles even before his mind consciously registered it: human terror, and the acid-sweet smell of a predator.
No way! I’m obviously a failure as a wolf, too, why should I bother risking my life? He fought the overwhelming need to hunt it, kill it, protect, but wolf instincts regarding predators ran too deep for mere depression to bury. It clawed at him mercilessly, worse than the memory of need for the uppers and downers he’d once used to pretend his life was under control.
He spun around and raced off in the direction of the predator scent; dinner would just have to wait.
Not far away, in a sheltered corner behind a laundromat, he found both predator and prey. The human girl he recognized—she was about his age, and spent a great deal of her time in the summer sitting on various stretches of sidewalk with coloured chalk and her own fertile imagination, creating fantastic designs. That explained the interest of the predator: creativity, passion, fear, were all acceptable sources of nourishment.
The predator itself was different from the only one he’d actually encountered in Haven, and he couldn’t recall anything like it in the descriptions his packmates had given him of various types, but so what? A predator was a predator. This one was eight-limbed, four of the limbs wide-pawed feet, four of them spindly long-clawed arms, the whole thing massing probably roughly what he did; the glossy dark hide gleamed unpleasantly like oil in the scant light.
Two hands held the girl’s arms, and the other two were exploring her body. Adding to her fear, Jess thought in disgust. Spicing up the meal before feasting.
All that took only a second or two to assimilate; without a pause, he lunged directly at the predator, aiming for the back of the neck—there were very few creatures, according to his packmates, that could survive having their central nervous system severed.
The head of the predator swivelled around like an owl’s, more than ninety degrees from front, and three huge oval eyes fixed on him.
The lipless slit that passed for a mouth opened, and it began to keen, a high-pitched sound that made Jess whine softly even as his full mass connected with the predator and flung it aside, off the girl. It writhed, and wrapped arms and legs around Jesse’s torso, still keening.
Jess turned his head and snapped savagely at it, but missed; all four paws planted firmly, he shook himself, struggling to think past the keening that abused his sensitive ears and made his skull feel like it would split. It hurt, oh god it hurt, Bane had never told him about a predator that used sound to attack, and the limbs wrapped around his ribs were beginning to constrict, not being able to breathe was not helping him clear his thoughts.
Come on, Jess, get it together, or you’re going to die, and going down in your second ever predator fight is too pathetic even for you!
He shifted back to human, bare skin crawling at the greasy feeling of the hide against him; the predator, confused, didn’t adjust its grip sufficiently, and the keening didn’t cause such acute pain, though it was still uncomfortable. He twisted around, and slammed the heel of his hand into the bottom of its jaw.
The mouth closed with a small snick, and the keening faltered.
Thank god. He hit it again, aiming for the throat this time; dazed and silenced, the predator’s hold loosened, and Jess pried both pairs of hands apart; he squirmed his way free, with only a couple of shallow scratches to show for it. Panting hard, he shifted back to wolf, and attacked, praying he could kill it before it started that keening again.
He had to tear one arm off to get it out of his way, which took time, but then, all four hands were pawing at its throat and it was making hoarse rasping noises, so it didn’t matter, because it didn’t appear to be able to breathe properly, let alone hurt him. His jaws closed, covering nearly the entire neck, and he braced himself and jerked sideways and up, bringing the powerful muscles of his neck and shoulders into play.
Head nearly severed from body, the predator went limp, and in a matter of seconds, dissolved into nothing.
Jesse shook himself, pleased with his success—and he hadn’t even gotten hurt doing it, not really. Bane would be proud of him, when he told…
Except that he couldn’t go tell his pack all about it and celebrate the kill with them and tell them about this new sort of predator. He couldn’t go to his pack at all.
The satisfaction turned to pain, an aching sense of emptiness; he heaved a sigh, and turned to check that the girl was going to be all right.
She was huddled against the wall, watching him with wide eyes, tears streaking her cheeks and her breath coming in half-hysterical sobs. The fear scent was overpowering, he could pick up nothing else.
She’s as scared of me as she was of the predator, he realized. This wasn’t Haven, where she’d have thanked him and been concerned about the blood streaking his sides, even if it wasn’t deep. To her, he was as alien and terrifying as the thing that had attacked her, regardless of his having protected her.
He whirled away, and bolted, not caring where he was going, as long as it was somewhere else.
Instinct took him to a little-known baseball field, tucked in behind a couple of huge government buildings. He stood in the middle of the field, and howled his anguish and confusion to the stars, until a couple of strangers came into the park and yelled at him; he fled again, back to where he’d hidden his backpack and clothes under the seldom-used back steps of a coffee shop. In the shadow of the garbage cans, he curled up as tightly as he could, too miserable to care about hunting. What difference did it make? What difference did anything make, now?
*
Jess sank down on a bench in a different park, under a moon that had passed from near-new to full since he’d seen Kevin and Shaine, grateful for the shadows that concealed him.
This was killing him by inches. Living like this wasn’t worth it—sleeping furform in hidden corners, hunting the small wildlife of the city or shoplifting chocolate bars, hating the thought of being around anyone. It was a twisted version of his blissful days alone in Haven’s forest, and that only made him loathe himself and his life more.
He wrapped his arms around his knees, shivering. He should’ve known better. Every time life began to look brighter, every time he was happy, his feet got kicked out from under him again, usually followed by a kick to the head. Being adopted after so long being bounced through foster homes and waiting for his real parents to come and find him, only to have what seemed at first like heaven turn into a worse hell than that younger Jesse had ever dreamed could really happen. Now it was happening all over again, except that this time, the heaven was still real, only he’d exiled himself from it. Shaine had made it quite clear that he was tired of babysitting him and he was no longer welcome. That left nothing but surviving the streets alone, with no hope of any change. Not even the temporary escape of acid or alcohol or anything else; he knew enough about wolf physiology to know that it would take drastically more e
ach time, and not long for his body to build up a complete immunity to it. And it just might have something to do with Kevin and Shaine both being there last time, and he desperately didn’t want that.
Wolf. He could shift to wolf, run far from the city and lose what was Jess in the animal mind…
No, he’d still be running alone, and the memories would never lie completely quiet. He could no more be entirely wolf than he could be entirely human. Better just to get it over with, save himself all the pain between now and the inevitable anyway.
He took his knife out of his jacket, shrugged out of the jacket itself, and pulled out the largest knife-blade. The ragged sleeves of his worn sweatshirt he pushed up out of his way. Now, which way was best? Across? No, wolf blood would clot too quickly, he had to do more damage than that to kill himself.
He didn’t notice the footsteps, but he caught the scent; only that saved Shaine from getting the knife in his guts.
“Don’t be such a fucking idiot. Put the knife away.” Impassive as ever, Shaine sat beside him.
“Go away. You don’t want me around. No one does.”
“I never said that. I said I was tired of taking care of you. It would’ve been more real if I said I was tired of seeing you need somebody to look out for you. You were s’posed to stay in Haven and get your life straightened out. So why the fuck are you back here?”
“Because nobody trusts me. They said they did, but they don’t. They lied and you lied and everybody lies and nobody’s even going to notice when I’m dead.”
“Give it a break, Jess, you don’t want to die and we both know it. Get the jacket back on before you freeze, put the knife away before I take it, and come on. We’re going home.”
“I don’t have a home,” Jesse said halfheartedly, but he obeyed anyway. He went with Shaine, back to the apartment. Nothing had changed.
After his room in Haven, it was awful, but at least it was familiar and trustworthy.
Black Wolf Page 28
