Code of the Wolf

by Susan Krinard

  “Get on,” he said.

  Virgil stared up at the animal as if he had never been on a horse before, then made a clumsy attempt to mount. Zora walked up behind him and boosted him onto the horse’s bare back.

  “Start riding,” Jacob said. He circled around Virgil’s horse and slapped it on the rump. It broke into a trot, Virgil clinging to its mane for dear life. After a few moments, he grabbed the reins, got control of the animal and turned it east along a deer path roughly paralleling the river.

  They were halfway to Tolerance when Jacob became certain that something was wrong. There was a taint in the air, a scent he couldn’t place. If it was the Reniers, they were still too far away to identify. Jacob pulled up his mount and listened, taking in deep lungfuls of air. Virgil kept on going.

  Jacob kicked his horse into a canter, rode alongside Virgil and grabbed him by one arm, not caring if he pulled the limb out of its socket.

  Virgil cried out and jerked his horse to a stop.

  “Where are they?” Jacob growled.

  “Please,” Virgil whimpered. “Don’t hurt me.”

  Jacob released Virgil’s arm and pulled his gun from his holster. “You trying to get away from me?”

  “No. No. It’s only a little farther, I swear.”

  Jacob had heard once that Quakers never took oaths, but since Virgil smelled about ready to empty his bladder, he was probably too scared to lie. Jacob prodded Virgil’s wrenched shoulder with the revolver.

  “You find them,” he said. “Now.”

  That was when the wind shifted, a sudden gust blowing out of the northeast, and Jacob smelled a stench he couldn’t mistake. He knew that scent. Someone had set wood on fire, and there was too damned much stink in Jacob’s nose to suggest anything less than a burning building.

  Jacob bore down with his heels, and his horse leaped into a gallop, running away from the river and into the acrid wind. Black smoke billowed above the trees that marked the western boundary of the settlement. Jacob was almost within sight of the settlement when he caught a whiff of another scent that had been masked by the burning. He had barely pinned down its source when the first wolf raced out of the underbrush alongside the road and leaped straight at him.

  Jacob got off one shot. He didn’t get a chance for another, because the wolf was on him and carrying him out of the saddle before he could pull the trigger. Jacob twisted in midair, trying to grab the wolf around the throat and keep its jaws from connecting with his own neck. He and the beast landed together, locked in a struggle that gave Jacob no time to Change. Razorsharp fangs pierced his forearm as he and the wolf rolled across the rocky ground, and he heard his horse squeal in fear.

  That was when he knew he’d failed. Others were coming, both men and wolves, every one an enemy. The arm the wolf had bitten had gone numb, and his fingers could no longer grip his pistol. For a few seconds he managed to get on top of the wolf and pin its head to the ground with his good hand, but then one of the others came, and something hard, cold and heavy struck the back of his head.

  Someone laughed, and then he knew nothing more.

  THE ROARING IN Jacob’s head slowly began to subside, and he became aware that everything around him had changed.

  Even before he opened his eyes, he knew he was in the main house of the Quaker settlement. The smell of scorched wood was overwhelming, drowning all other scents, but he felt the presence of at least seven people in the room, most of them strangers, and heard the sounds of rapid breathing. Frightened Quakers and dangerous enemies.

  But he couldn’t move. He had been bound to a chair, his arms wrenched and tied behind the back of it and his ankles tied to its front legs.

  He opened his eyes, already braced for what he would see. A man was perched on a backward chair directly in front of him, his legs astride the seat and his arms folded casually over the back.

  Jacob knew him. His sense of smell might be compromised by all the smoke in the air, but he could never forget the face he’d glimpsed eight months before. Lafe Renier had helped kill Ruth. Her death had been only the end result of a petty war between a handful of Constantines and Reniers, but Jacob had never dreamed she’d be in any danger. He hadn’t wanted to get involved.

  In the end, he hadn’t had any choice.

  “Renier,” he croaked.

  The man grinned lazily. “Constantine,” he said. “You’ve been a busy boy.”

  Jacob tested the ropes. He could snap them easily enough, but Lafe Renier wasn’t the only one of his clan in the room. There were five others, and behind Renier and against the wall stood Lester and Virgil, both pale and wan with fear. Jacob had no doubt that they would suffer if he struggled, though he had a pretty good idea that Virgil would deserve whatever he got.

  The only good thing about any of this was that Serenity and the other women weren’t there. He prayed that Serenity had gone to the river when she hadn’t found him waiting where she’d left him.

  “What are you doing here, Renier?” he asked calmly.

  Lafe Renier leaned back, hooking his thumbs in his gun belt. “I’m surprised you thought we’d never find out you was after us,” he said. “Fact is, we expected it a long time ago. For a while there, we wondered if you’d turned yellow.” His grin broadened. “Thought maybe you didn’t put much value on your pretty human wife.”

  Jacob lunged in his chair and fell back, sucking air through his teeth.

  “Now don’t get so riled up, Constantine,” Renier said. “We got a few things to talk about before you die.”

  Slowly releasing his breath, Jacob relaxed his body again.

  Renier nodded.

  “Good boy,” he said. “You just stay that way, and we’ll get along just fine.”

  Renier’s expression darkened. “Nice and safe, so long as you cooperate.”

  Something told Jacob that Renier wasn’t completely happy with the situation. Maybe he didn’t have all the Quakers under his thumb. If any of them had escaped…

  “I guess you want to know how we found you,” Renier said, interrupting Jacob’s thoughts.

  Jacob did want to know how the Reniers had followed him without his smelling or sensing them, even if it was too late to make any difference. He could blame himself for that along with everything else.

  “We got a message from Bethel the day after you left,” Renier said, returning to his original position. “See, we have a nice little camp out there and do a lot of business in town, especially with the old storekeeper. Seems he met a man and a woman who were askin’ questions about us and where we were. The man called himself ‘Jack King,’ but it seems the old man heard his real name during some trouble with a bounty hunter.” Renier chuckled. “When we heard the name Jacob Constantine…well, we figured it weren’t no coincidence. So we started makin’ a few inquiries, and found out a man and three women were seen ridin’ east toward San Antonio. I sent one of my men ahead and rode after you…keepin’ well out of smellin’ range, o’ course. Harl spotted you a day ahead of us, and we just kept on your trail.” He smirked. “And I heard you was pretty good at man-huntin’. Guess you was too busy with all them females to notice us.”

  Jacob kept his expression blank. He’d been too busy to know that the enemy was right behind them. Too busy even to sense Perry, who was only human. Too busy to use the instincts God had given him.

  “Well,” Renier went on, “you can imagine how surprised we was when we figured out where you was goin’. Gave me some pleasure to recall the fun we had here a few years back.”

  One of Renier’s men laughed. Lester’s jaw trembled, and Virgil twitched like a corpse full of maggots.

  “Now, what we couldn’t figure was why you’d come to a place like this,” Renier went on. “You ain’t no Quaker. Maybe you heard tell of our last visit?” He eyed Jacob as if waiting for an answer, then shrugged when none was forthcoming. “We moved in a little before dawn this mornin’. A lot of blood on the air. You can imagine how sad we was to hear you
wasn’t here.” He glanced over his shoulder at the two Quakers. “The old man denied you’d ever been here, but we knew he was lyin’. Your scent was all over. Didn’t figure it would take much to make these sheep talk, but then Vir-gil—” he pronounced the name with contempt “—told us you’d come and gone. We was goin’ to look for you, but he said he could bring you right to us. Save us some trouble.”

  Jacob stared at Virgil. “You son of a bitch,” he said.

  Renier shook his head. “Just a little lamb, like all of ’em,” he said. “Ba-a-a-a-ah. Feeble and scared.” He snapped his fingers, and one of his men brought him a freshly rolled cigarette. “Vir-gil said he’d tell you he’d seen us in Kerrville. Now, we figured watchin’ you walk into a trap would be a sight more satisfyin’ than huntin’ you down. So we agreed we wouldn’t hurt anyone here if he did like he said.” Renier plucked a match from his vest pocket, bent down and struck it against the floor. “We set the fire to keep you from smellin’ us and just bided our time.”

  A trap and an ambush. And Jacob had fallen for it, all because he’d been weak. Weak with too much caring. And with hate.

  “Now, this is all fine ’n’ dandy,” Renier said, lighting his cigarette, “but we knew you had some females with you, four of ’em all told, includin’ the one the storekeeper said was interested in us. Vir-gil said you had a fight with ’em, and they rode out alone. I figure we can run ’em down easy enough once we’re done with you. But I do wonder why you’d be ridin’ with a bunch of human females in the first place. Tryin’ to start your own hay-ram?”

  He guffawed, and his men joined in.

  Jacob held his rage in check. Virgil had lied in telling the Reniers that Jacob and the women had fought. That must mean something.

  “I was escorting the women to San Antonio,” Jacob said.

  “Do tell.” Renier took a pull on his cigarette. “The old storekeeper said you was pretty cozy with the lady who called herself Sally Cumberland. He said she was pretty handy with a gun. Shot up a saloon.” The outlaw’s gaze sharpened. “This particular female means somethin’ to you. I smell it.”

  “You killed the only woman who ever mattered to me.”

  “Maybe you just wanted a pretty piece to give you a little relief on lonely nights.”

  Jacob couldn’t help himself. He snarled a curse and lunged against the ropes.

  Renier watched with great interest.

  “Make it easy on yourself, Constantine,” he said. “All I want to know is who she is, and why she was after us.”

  Jacob was determined to live long enough to visit that storekeeper again. “Guess you’ll have to keep wondering,” he said.

  “You should cooperate, Constantine. We might go easy on those females when we find ’em.”

  “The way you went easy on my wife?”

  “That was business. Orders from the top. Needed to teach your kinfolk a lesson about messin’ with the Reniers.”

  “You must have felt mighty big, killing a lone human woman.”

  Renier didn’t even blink. “All in a day’s work. But you ain’t answerin’ my questions. Who’s that female, and why did you come here?”

  “One of the women with him was a Quaker,” Virgil said. “She paid Constantine to bring her here.”

  Renier scooted around to face Virgil. “Which one?” He chortled. “The Mexican or the half-breed? Or the white woman with shoulders like a bull buffalo?” He chortled. “Couldn’t have been this Sally Cumberland. Never heard of a Quaker shootin’ up saloons.”

  “Victoria has been away a long time,” Virgil said. “She couldn’t fit in among us. That is why she left so soon.”

  Renier cocked his head. “Funny thing about that,” he said. “Storekeeper said that bounty hunter Constantine had trouble with was lookin’ for that big woman. Wanted her for murder.”

  “I know nothing about that.”

  “You seem to like the company of hard women, Constantine,” Renier said, swinging around to face Jacob again. “I’m gettin’ impatient to meet ’em. Where are they?”

  “I don’t know,” Virgil said.

  Lafe Renier got out of the chair. “Guess we’ll have to find ’em ourselves. Then we’ll all have a little fun.” He signaled to the men behind Jacob. “Harl, Rayburn, you go find ’em.”

  The two men walked out the front door. Three left, Jacob thought. The odds were getting better—if he could figure out how to keep the Quakers safe when he went for the Reniers.

  But whether or not Serenity and the other women had ridden out, they would soon be facing a pair of depraved, inhuman killers. Jacob hadn’t gotten a good enough look at Harl and Rayburn to know if they matched the two other men in the sketches. What would Serenity do if they did? She and the others wouldn’t have any choice but to try to kill the outlaws, and Zora would give them a decent chance to succeed. But what would it do to Serenity if she forgot her vow to give up her revenge and went after them as she’d gone after Perry?

  Jacob closed his eyes and prayed as he’d never prayed in his life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  SERENITY RAN. SHE ran because all she could think of was getting to Jacob, no matter what might be happening in Tolerance.

  All the time she’d been looking for a way out of the shed, she’d remembered Elizabeth’s fearful protest: Virgil, do not do this. The price is too high. And Virgil’s answer: If no one else will protect our home, I will.

  Serenity had assumed he’d meant protecting it from Jacob, and that he intended to go after the man he hated. But now that seemed too simple an explanation. It didn’t explain the silence in the settlement, the absence of children and workers. There was something else going on, and whatever it was, she knew she couldn’t deal with it alone and weaponless.

  So after she had escaped the shed through the slats she had broken with the ax she had found inside, she had headed for the road at as fast a pace as her feet would carry her, continuing west through the woods and across brushy meadows to the place where she’d left Jacob. The dress slowed her, but when she stumbled, she simply picked up her skirts again and stubbornly kept on.

  She had gone only a few dozen yards away from the road when someone rushed out of the trees to the south.

  “Serenity!” Victoria said, skidding to a stop in front of her. “Where have you been?”

  “Tolerance,” Serenity said. “Victoria, something is wrong.”

  “I know. Come with me.”

  Victoria turned and led Serenity south at a fast walk. Hidden behind a thick stand of oaks were Caridad, Zora…and Elizabeth, with the five children Serenity had briefly met in the settlement. Elizabeth had the three-year-old in her arms; the other children pressed close around her, frightened and silent.

  “Serenity!” Caridad exclaimed. “When we could not find you, we were afraid—”

  “I’m all right,” Serenity interrupted. “Virgil met me on the road while I was out walking. He asked me to return to Tolerance immediately to see my aunt. He was lying.” She looked at Elizabeth. “What has happened? Why are you here?”

  Zora took Serenity aside, out of Elizabeth’s hearing. Her expression was grim. “There are strangers in Tolerance,” she said. “Werewolves.”

  Werewolves. Serenity registered the word with disbelief.

  “Who are they?” she asked with sudden, choking dread.

  Zora ignored her question. “Elizabeth says they are holding hostages in the settlement, and—”

  “Hostages?” Serenity glanced toward Elizabeth. “But why? Who would want…?”

  But she already knew, and so must Zora. There might be other werewolf gangs in this part of Texas, but Serenity could think of only one that would have a particular interest in Tolerance…and who might be staying there.

  Panic would help no one now. “Go on,” she said to Zora.

  “Elizabeth was barely able to escape with the children when the strangers were distracted by—” She hesitated, her eyes full of sadness. “When
they took Jacob.”

  Serenity reached for the trunk of the nearest tree and leaned against it heavily. “Took him?”

  “Captured him. I saw signs of a fight near the road. Blood was shed, but there were no bodies.”

  That was all Serenity needed to confirm her worst fears. She strode back to Elizabeth. “Did you see Jacob?” She demanded. “Was he all right?”

  “I saw little of what happened,” the Quaker woman said, bending her head to the child in her arms. “I, Grace, my father and Virgil were in the kitchen when they came. Six men with guns walked into the house, and said they were looking for a man and several women who might have come recently to Tolerance. We knew at once that they were dangerous men, so we said nothing.”

  “Did you see Jacob?” Serenity repeated.

  “I saw these men drag someone into the house as I was leaving to gather the children.”

  Surely the outlaws wouldn’t have bothered to hide Jacob’s body if he were dead.

  Serenity forced herself to remain calm. “How did you get away?”

  “These men pay little attention to women or children,” Elizabeth said. “It was soon after I saw Virgil return with thee, and I tried to reason with him. While the intruders were arguing, I gathered those I could, and we ran.”

  She looked up, tears in her eyes. “What do these men want with thee and Jacob?”

  The situation was too precarious now not to share some part of the truth. “Jacob is a hunter of those who break the law,” Serenity said. “These bad men may carry some grudge against him because of that, but I don’t know how anyone could have found us here.”

  “Thee knew about this grudge when thee came?” Elizabeth asked in disbelief. “Did thee know these men were searching for thee?”

  Serenity looked away. “We would never have come here if we believed we would bring trouble with us.”

  “Yet a man of violence attracts violence,” Elizabeth said, anger behind the quiet cadence of her voice.

  “It is more than that,” Zora said. She faced Serenity, speaking to her as if Elizabeth were not even there. “Jacob knows these Reniers. His family and theirs are ancient enemies. They have reason to hate him as he hates them.”