Vainly, I struggled against the compulsion that continued to barrel me forward. Because this wasn’t my wolf in charge. This wasn’t the meek animal who obeyed commands to cease and desist despite her instinctive yearning to lap up blood and gnaw on corpses.
Instead, a quick survey of my inner landscape turned up the fact that my lupine half was currently quiescent, still present but unable to influence the muscles and tendons pulling us forward across the beach. Our shared body was being compelled from the outside in, moved like a puppet by somebody else.
Stormwinder, I guessed. Grey had suggested that he was acting on the older male’s orders, mentioning that the Tribunal member had wanted me to do much more than to lose a few conscious hours and scare a few sheep.
Not that the identity of the shifter behind my current behavior really mattered. The relevant point was finding a way to stop this travesty before I tore apart vacationers and signed my own death warrant in the process.
Still, as I strained and fought against the external force moving my muscles, I couldn’t help thinking that Stormwinder was more clever than I’d initially thought. The older male had been playing a long game for the last couple of weeks and no one would be able to argue with the evidence now. Even I had been halfway convinced that my wolf was responsible for the problems rising up around Wolf Landing in the recent past. So when I broke cover here in a very public setting, murdering humans in a way that would make the national news, no one would be able to argue with the results.
Instead, I’d be executed and Wolf Landing would disappear without a trace. The bloodlings would be split up, used and abused by pack leaders who considered their new lackeys a means to an end rather than scared children in need of a loving home.
And Hunter? Would my mate resign himself to the inevitable and drag his bloodling body back to Stormwinder with tail between his legs, seeking the only remaining place where he could possibly belong?
Not happening, I thought grimly. I’d made no headway fighting against the compulsion directly, though, so I ignored my outer body for the moment and focused on my inner world instead.
My wolf was still frozen in place, awake but unmoving...which was fine since I intended to force her into a retreat she wouldn’t have wanted to consider. My proposed action felt like a betrayal, but it was the best solution I’d been able to come up with on such short notice. So, pressing frozen fingers beneath soggy fur, I hefted at the animal’s dead weight. She flopped over a single turn then continued to lie still.
Outside, I could hear screams of terror interspersed with splashing water. But I couldn’t afford to take my attention away from the task at hand for long enough to look. Instead, I put my back into the effort and rolled the wolf over again and again and again, inching ever closer to my goal.
I hesitated as we neared the cliff separating higher brain functioning from the intuitive realm of the lower body. Was I really willing to go through with an action that might do more harm than good? And would sending my wolf tumbling down into the depths actually manage to break Stormwinder’s iron grip over our outer body?
Unfortunately, I was well aware that this divide was more than merely metaphorical. I remembered all too well what it had felt like to be pushed deep into the bowels of our shared body. I remembered the terror of the void, the way I’d nearly lost myself in the sea of darkness before finally dragging my aching muscles up the steep slope to regain the helm at long last.
My wolf, on the other hand, made descent and ascent look easy. She’d leapt over the divide countless times, slinking purposefully down my spine to take up residence beyond the realm of conscious thought. I had to hope she’d be able to make this ascent again once the danger was past.
Still...I twitched away from the notion of flipping a paralyzed wolf over the edge while she was unable to twist and break her fall. What would happen if her spine splintered, her head cracked?
Selfishly, I also had to ask whether I’d ever be able to exit our current furry form without our partnership intact. And, once human, would I be able to call back upon my inner wolf?
A decade or a year ago, the choice would have been easy. A much younger me had blithely wished her wolf away, wanting to become the one-body daughter our mother so sorely craved. A slightly older incarnation of the same person had resented the weak lupine half who dragged us down every time we attempted to stand up against stronger pack leaders. At either of those past moments, I would have gladly parted from my wolf forever.
But over the last few months, my inner beast and I had grown in tandem, our previously disparate viewpoints melding into a cohesive whole. Now, as I considered tossing her out of my life completely, I found it inconceivable to imagine carrying on without this companion who I’d only recently come to realize was a true friend.
So I continued to ignore the screams of terror outside our shared body while I hesitated there on the ledge between conscious and subconscious realities. And in the end, as so many times before, it was the wolf who moved us forward.
Push me, she demanded, her words a mere breath but decisive nonetheless. She’d fought against Stormwinder’s compulsion until there was only a husk of her original self remaining. And now she bade me toss that remnant down into the depths to sink or swim under her own volition.
All to save three one-bodies who we’d never met and would likely never see again.
For our pack, she admonished.
Outside, screams turned into shrieks. One way or another, the end was near and neither of us would be able to live with ourselves if I woke to blood on my teeth.
So, closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Then, I pushed.
Chapter 27
The ungainly lupine body at first refused to respond to my commands. Despite being a halfie, I’d never before had a problem running, hunting, and playing on four paws, my human self doing the job nearly as ably as my inner wolf could have managed the tasks. But now my feet dragged and stumbled as I barely managed to hold myself erect.
Was my ineptitude due to the aftereffects of Stormwinder’s compulsion, a linkage that had broken the instant my wolf slid away into the darkness? Or was my newfound clumsiness the result of becoming a shifter whose inner beast had perished at her own hand?
I couldn’t afford the time and attention necessary to find out. Instead, painstakingly, I pushed my body language into that of a playful pup. Ears raised, tail wagging, tongue lolling. Dashing backward, I yipped, begging for a stick to be thrown or a frisbee tossed.
Because the one-body vacationers weren’t dead. They hadn’t even been injured, although their clothes were soaked from a frantic dash into the ocean to hide beneath the waves.
Now their stiff shoulders relaxed, a burst of nervous laughter escaping from the oldest male’s lips. “I think he only wants to play,” the father said, his scent full of shame at having succumbed to the recent wave of mass hysteria.
“I swear he was trying to eat us,” the mother countered. She shivered, continuing to back away from my antics. Unlike her husband, she was tuned in to her inner prey animal and recognized the danger that had so recently infused the air.
“It’s not a he; it’s a she,” the son interjected. Bravely, he walked toward me along the shoreline, but I was already turning to flee. Because Stormwinder would feel the splintering of his puppet-string compulsion. And, knowing he’d failed at his initial attack, he would have turned south to seek my secondary weakness—the other members of my present crew.
So leaving the one-bodies behind to regroup as they saw fit, I stuck to the hard-packed sand just above the waves and ran flat out. There was no point in worrying about leaving tracks or being seen now. No, the battle to come would be decided not by stealth but by speed.
Danger, danger, danger, I broadcast toward Ginger and Sinsa as I barreled down the beach. But I doubted whether they would hear. Without the assistance of my inner wolf, in fact, all ties to my pack appeared to have been firmly severed. I was nothing but a confused huma
n hidden within a furry body that no longer felt like my own.
A confused human, maybe. But still an alpha on a mission, I reminded myself. Then, raising my head to sniff at the air, I caught the first hint of troublesome scents and sounds being whipped toward me by the sea breeze.
Angry snarls, cries of pain, and also the wild aroma of strong lupine predators. Not my pack, but someone else in danger. Someone else being ripped and torn apart.
I itched to continue on down the beach, to gather my pack mates and flee from this spot that no longer seemed nearly as safe as I’d originally assumed. Instead, I found my legs pushing up over the dunes to seek out the source of the snarls.
After all, there might be other innocent vacationers being drawn into shifter politics against their will. Would Stormwinder attack one-bodies himself, planning to lay their deaths at my doorstep despite the lack of blood on my fur and claws?
I wouldn’t put it past him. And if I didn’t come to their aid after hearing the fight, I’d be as guilty as if I’d ripped each innocent apart myself.
Except this wasn’t one-bodies, I saw as soon as I crested the summit. Instead, three wolves battled, locked in a rolling ball of legs and tails. They spun through the air, broke apart, then clashed again.
Blood already stained the sand and a group of anticipatory fish crows had gathered atop a nearby yaupon holly. Were the watchers waiting for the battle to end so they could pick flesh off bones? Were they waiting to consume the vanquished?
Usually, the birds would have gone begging. After all, the entire point of alpha stare-downs and dominance displays was to prevent fights to the death. But something told me this current battle wouldn’t end until one or more of the wolves in question had breathed their last.
Someone has to stop them. That someone was evidently me.
Feeling blindly into the ether, I pulled forth my human body with one resolute yank. I’d hoped to save the only semi-certain shift my strength allowed for my entrance into All-Pack. But I didn’t trust myself not to be overpowered in lupine form despite my missing wolf. At least as a two-legger, I could attempt to reason with shifters who appeared to have jumped off the deep end without thought to risk or consequences.
“Hey! Stop it!” I yelled, plucking a piece of driftwood off the ground to brandish above my head. As I spoke, I picked my way toward the combatants, leery of the prickly pears that offered to swipe at bare soles. My advance would have been easier on lupine paws or with human shoes, but I made the most of what I had on hand—my weaponless human skin.
One of the wolves glanced up as I approached, but the other two remained locked in mindless battle. And as the wind shifted, the scents of the bloodthirsty duo finally filtered into my searching nostrils.
Stormwinder. No surprise there. I would have been startled if the Tribunal member hadn’t been at the center of the current battle.
The other wolf was equally familiar, although unanticipated in context. I’d expected Slate Franklin to be waiting at the gathering site, not staking out these dunes in search of blood. Not clamping down his jaws around my nemesis’s jugular in what appeared to be a werewolf grip of death.
As my brain raced, the third wolf surged upward to become a wizened black man who I could only assume was the ill-named Big Bill. Coincidence that two of my three supposed allies were here hunting Stormwinder at the same moment I passed down this stretch of beach? I thought not.
“This is none of your affair,” Bill Byrd told me as soon as his vocal cords had changed from wolf to man. His voice was far deeper than his skinny frame would have suggested, and I caught a fleeting hint of similarity to his much taller son despite their disparate body types.
Family resemblances were the furthest thing from my mind at the present moment, though. “You and Franklin used me,” I said, realization dawning even as I spoke. “I was just the bait in your trap to get Stormwinder alone. You never intended to vote him off. You intended to kill him from the very beginning.”
“We’re werewolves, not girl scouts,” Big Bill answered dismissively. Then, softening a trifle, he added: “Stormwinder isn’t your ally. Haven’t you realized by now that he and his lackey have been causing your blackouts all this time? You should be glad to see him gone.”
I had realized that Stormwinder was responsible for my lupine issues, but I hadn’t been aware the fact was bandied about between all the other alphas behind my back. If my wolf had been present, she would have growled. As it was, my nostrils flared as I finally accepted the obvious conclusion—my supposed allies had never been even moderately on my side.
Meanwhile, on the other side of Byrd, Franklin released the older wolf for a split second, then spun on his heel to plow into Stormwinder’s shoulder. The Tribunal member flew through the air, landing on his back with belly exposed. This wasn’t going to end well.
I shuddered, wondering what my mate would do once he learned his mentor was dead. Because, despite his recent rebellion, deep down inside Hunter still considered Stormwinder to be the father figure he’d never otherwise known.
And now we had Grey to consider as well. Grey who had submitted to my mate and was thus an official member of our clan. Grey who was bound to Stormwinder even more firmly than my mate and whose current grasp on reality was tenuous at best.
No, I couldn’t allow these alphas to murder Stormwinder without a fight.
Unfortunately, words weren’t working and my wolf was incommunicado. So I went for the only other weapon I had at my disposal. Raising the stick I still held in one hand, I flung it with all my might toward Franklin’s enraged wolf.
And then I was being pushed toward the ground, hard hands pressing my face into the sand. I fought to pull in breath, my lungs stunned from the fall and my mouth blocked by the earth. Flailing arms beat vainly at the air, but I couldn’t grab hold of the shifter who’d vanquished me with a single blow. I couldn’t escape from his wiry grasp.
Then, behind us both—a harsh snap, like kindling broken over a knee to shorten its length for the fireplace.
But this crack hadn’t originated with firewood. No, when Big Bill released me as quickly as he’d thrown me down, I knew without looking that the struggle was over.
The Coastal packs were without a leader. Lucas Stormwinder was dead.
Chapter 28
Glancing between the glazed eyes of the slaughtered Tribunal member and the dark irises of the man who’d so recently tossed me to the ground, I couldn’t help thinking that my neck would be the next to break. Meanwhile, my other supposed ally, Franklin, padded away from the already cooling corpse with an expression every bit as bloodthirsty as mine had been only half an hour earlier while chasing those one-bodies into the surf.
Yep, I’ve definitely gotten myself into a pickle.
Unfortunately, I was too exhausted to shift into lupine form and I was well aware that fleeing on bare human feet wouldn’t get me very far. Instead, I mustered what remained of my pride and pulled myself back erect. “I assume our deal is off?”
For a second, I got the distinct impression that Big Bill was impressed by my bluster. His eyes filled with the same playful mirth I’d seen on his son’s face an eternity in the past—or was that three days ago?—when Franklin and Robert had been engaged in their macho posturing.
Yes, there did seem to be a hereditary tendency to enjoy my spunk. Unfortunately, Big Bill’s feelings didn’t stand in the way of doing what he considered best for his pack.
“It’s nothing personal, pup,” he soothed even as he stepped closer, invading my personal space with ease. “But our region can’t handle a shakeup of power right now. Not when we’ve just removed the monkey from all of our backs. Don’t be afraid, though. I’ll make it painless...”
Before I could find out whether I planned to plead for my life or to stand firm in the face of peril, though, the air around us filled with yips and howls. And over the dunes came a company of wolves.
Or at least they sounded like a company—
Ginger always did have a larger than average mouth. In actuality, my rescuers consisted of only Sinsa barreling toward us on four lupine legs while her companion lingered behind just out of sight, emulating the voices of half a dozen members of our absent clan.
The pack princess’s mimicry was spot on. I picked out Cinnamon’s deep bark, Glen’s mournful howl, and even Hunter’s menacing roar. If I hadn’t known for a fact that I’d left all but two of my companions behind in another state, I would have been certain that a cadre of supporters was currently racing up over the dunes intent upon bloodshed.
In response, Big Bill hesitated. No pack leader worth his salt would flee from three lone females, but standing against a full-fledged pack was another matter entirely.
Consideration flickered behind his eyes. Would he have time to snap my neck before my clan members arrived? The likely answer was yes.
But what was the point? Sure, my death would eliminate the danger to Byrd’s power...but so would leaving me ally-less and alone. Because if no pack leaders were willing to argue in favor of our requested territorial rights, then Wolf Landing’s long-sought independent status would be squelched before it was ever won.
In the end, Big Bill chose to let me live. Staring directly into my eyes, he simply ordered: “Go home.”
Perhaps the alpha didn’t realize that my wolf was lost or dead or who knew what. No matter where she was hiding, she was definitely unable to pass along his intended compulsion.
Still, I saw no reason to provoke the older male’s further ire. So I merely bowed my head and watched through slitted eyelids as two human feet and four lupine paws retreated rapidly. I heard car doors slam along the not-so-distant highway and I released a gust of pent-up breath as the other pack leaders broke their own rules and embraced the shortcut of wheels and engines in their haste to reach our shared destination before the sun went down.
Then, chin rising, I watched my friends hurry over to meet me amid the stand of sea oats that anchored the western side of the dunes. “Pretty good, huh?” Sinsa said by way of greeting, pulling me into a sisterly hug as soon as she’d surged upward into humanity. Thirty feet behind, Ginger was rapidly approaching in lupine form, the set of the latter’s shoulders proud as she pranced up to join our small party.
Wolf Landing (Alpha Underground Book 3) Page 17
