Code of the Wolf

by Susan Krinard

  “How could he have sent a message?” Renier demanded, still crouched by the door. “There ain’t no telegraph in Bethel.”

  “By rider,” Jacob croaked. “More than one man in need of work in that hellhole.”

  Renier straightened. “It’s a lie. Louis was standing guard. He would have warned us. Whoever’s out there, it ain’t no—”

  A second howl came, higher-pitched than the first, from the rear of the house. Renier’s men turned as one toward the sound.

  “I don’t know what happened to this Louis, but you haven’t got much time left,” Serenity said. “I don’t want my people caught in the middle of a fight between animals.”

  Renier hardly seemed to notice her insult. Sweat had broken out on his forehead, and Jacob realized Serenity—and Zora—had all but convinced him that the house was surrounded.

  “Harlan,” Lafe snapped. “You and Ned go out and take a look. Harl, you take the front door. Ned, check the back.”

  The men in question glanced at each other. “Maybe it would be better if we all went out,” Ned ventured.

  “Get out there,” Renier said, showing his teeth.

  Werewolves weren’t wolves in every way, but in any group of them there was usually a pretty solid pecking order, and neither Ned nor Harlan was willing to stand up to Lafe. Harlan approached the front door at a near crawl, while Ned slunk toward the back. They stripped and went outside wearing only their gun belts. Renier paced the floor, glaring first at Jacob and then at Serenity. Jacob knew the man was on the edge of an explosion that could consume the entire settlement.

  Serenity must have known it, too, but no doubt crossed her face. She watched Renier as if he were an insect in a jar, scurrying and scrabbling for purchase against the glass. The hair-trigger tension in the room increased a little more with each minute that passed without word from Ned or Harlan.

  Jacob prepared himself. He wouldn’t have time to take off his clothes once he freed himself from the ropes and went for Lafe Renier. He would have to tear them apart with the Change itself, and that would take an enormous toll on his strength. But there were only three of the gang in the room now, including Lafe, and he would never get a better chance.

  He looked straight at Serenity, willing her to look back. She was turning her head toward him when there was a howl of pain from outside, followed by the report of a gun. Another gunshot, a third, and then the unmistakable sounds of a struggle.

  Jacob surged upward, snapping the weak fibers that stretched between his wrists, kicking out to crack the legs of the chair and free his feet from their bindings. He felt the resistance of his boots and clothing as the Change began, confining his body as he struggled to complete the transformation. Leather and cloth gave way with a violent hiss.

  Renier shouted at his men. Serenity seemed to move as if through water, her limbs dragging as she tried to dodge the man coming after her. Jacob shook off the tattered scraps of his clothes and charged Lafe, jaws wide to sever the pulsing veins in the outlaw’s throat. Everyone around him, werewolves and humans alike, seemed to slow to a crawl.

  The man going for Serenity caught her, and Renier swung his pistol to aim at the center of her forehead.

  “Stop!” his thick, muffled voice shouted from somewhere far away. “I’ll kill her!”

  Part of Jacob heard the words. Part of him wanted to stop. But the hatred was stronger.

  It was too late. Too late to go back, too late to remember that he had once chosen not to be like his enemies. All he could see was Ruth, horror distorting her pretty face as she tried to run from the monsters who had come to steal her life and destroy Jacob’s with it. All he could feel was the wolf’s lust for blood. Revenge was a heartbeat away.

  The world groaned, shuddered, came to a grinding halt. The powerful muscles in Jacob’s hind legs bunched. His forepaws left the ground. All his massive weight hurtled toward Lafe Renier, roaring, flying.

  Then Ruth looked at him with Serenity’s eyes, and the last of Jacob’s humanity recognized their message.

  Forgiveness. No fear, no reproach, no hate. Only complete and utter acceptance.

  The man remembered. The wolf twisted in midair before his body struck his enemy, twisted and flung himself sideways, one paw striking the floor before he leaped up again. He plowed into the woman, knocking her aside as the bullet whizzed past and buried itself in the wall behind the place where Serenity had stood a moment before.

  Lafe Renier laughed. He aimed at Serenity again. Jacob’s nails raked the floor as he scrambled to his feet and flung himself over the one who held his soul in her hands.

  The second bullet flew past Jacob’s ear, taking a tiny crescent of flesh with it. Jacob didn’t move. He had but one purpose now and for the rest of his life, even if that life was to be counted in seconds.

  The third bullet never came. Renier was falling, a look of amazement on his face, and Virgil was standing over him with a gun in his hand. Then he, too, was falling, and a flurry of struggling bodies spun past Jacob like a dust devil made of limbs and fur and flashing white teeth. A female voice swore in voluble Spanish. More shots, and then…

  Nothing. No movement, no sound. Jacob lifted his head. Serenity’s breath puffed against the fur of his neck, and she opened her eyes.

  It was over. As the crimson haze cleared from Jacob’s eyes, he smelled the stench of gunfire and blood and sweat.

  And something more. Something that couldn’t be defined by man or wolf. He rose, taking Serenity’s weight as she dug her fingers in his fur and pulled herself to her feet.

  There were bodies—Renier’s men and Renier himself—but only two were bereft of life: Renier and Virgil, who lay on his back almost as if he were sleeping. Of the gun there was no sign. Lester crouched beside the younger man, tears running down his weathered cheeks.

  Lafe Renier was on his stomach, his face hidden from sight, but from the look of him he’d taken Virgil’s bullet straight through the heart. The other two outlaws who had been in the room were down as well, but both were at least partly conscious and moving, if feebly.

  Caridad, Victoria and a naked Zora stood over their prisoners—Caridad, as always, prepared to shoot at the slightest sign of opposition. Victoria was nursing a wounded shoulder, hastily bound with strips of torn cloth.

  Serenity bent her head to kiss Jacob’s forehead, smiled into his eyes and then ran to her friends, embracing each of them in turn. She took special care with Victoria, who gave her a shaky grin.

  What they said after that was only so much noise to Jacob. He crept to the open back door and slipped out.

  There were bodies there as well, but Harl was still alive, bound hand and foot, and clearly too weak to attempt escape. The second man—Louis, Jacob figured—was moaning over a shattered knee. Ned lay on his side in wolf shape, but no breath lifted his ribs.

  Three dead. There was only one for whom Jacob mourned. Virgil had set aside his deepest beliefs to defend one he considered a rival and an enemy. His sacrifice had been more than honorable, whatever his motives. And Lafe Renier’s death had expunged the fell purpose Jacob had always carried in his heart, masked, but never erased, by the Code.

  The Code was dead now, too. Jacob had shattered it beyond repair. He had forgotten all the principles of justice. He had deceived Serenity about his relationship with the Reniers, and put both her and the entire Quaker community in danger because of his deception. He had given himself over to bloody vengeance. And he had put that vengeance ahead of the safety of those he was sworn to protect.

  Ahead of Serenity.

  The pall of smoke that had hung in the air had begun to disperse on the late-morning breeze, leaving a faint stain of brown and gray that smelled of sorrow. Jacob trotted to the skeleton of the cottage Virgil had set afire, dipping his paws in the ashes. He circled it twice, then followed his nose to another cottage, where a dying woman lay.

  There were five women inside, two weeping. All were still breathing. Jacob set off a
gain, sniffing out the Quakers in hiding without letting them see him. No one else had suffered more than an ugly scare. Elizabeth and the children were gone, but Jacob was certain they had escaped before threat had erupted into violence.

  He could do no more for any of them. If he showed himself, they would see only a monster.

  Because that was what he had become.

  Breaking into a run, Jacob raced away from the settlement and across the road, forcing his way through the brush and trees. He burst out onto the riverbank and plunged into the water, drenching his fur to the skin.

  It made no difference. He couldn’t wash his shame away. The only thing he could do now was keep on running—away from the end of the Code, from the shreds of his honor, and from Serenity most of all. He would take nothing with him. There would be no farewells. He would go naked into the wilderness, and perhaps—one day, before he died—he would find himself. And forgive.

  He dragged himself to the opposite bank, flung back his head and howled. “Jacob!”

  Serenity ran out onto the bank across the river, her loose hair flying.

  “Jacob!” she cried again, sliding down to the water’s edge. “Where are you going?”

  He backed away. A few short steps would carry him into the thicket behind him.

  “No!” Serenity waded into the river, soaking her skirts, stumbling and righting herself again. “Whatever it is, Jacob, you can’t give in! Not now!”

  Her struggles were more than Jacob could bear. He plunged back into the water, seized her skirts and pulled her the rest of the way to the bank. She sat down hard, breathing fast. When he tried to move away, she wound her fingers in his waterlogged coat and refused to let go.

  “Why are you running?” she asked, her eyes bright with tears. “Because you wanted to kill Renier?” She tugged his fur, forcing him to move closer to her. “That wasn’t you. That was your hatred. I know how it becomes your world, consumes every good thing inside you. For so long you resisted it, but none of us can reject our darkest selves without paying a price.” She buried her face in his mane. “Letting go means losing yourself. It’s like being born again and having to learn life from the beginning, like a child.”

  Little by little, relentless as drops of water wearing down a mountain, her words reached through the darkness. Being born again. Wasn’t that what he had wanted?

  “Come back, Jacob,” Serenity whispered. “Come back to me.”

  With a groan of surrender he Changed.

  Her fingers slipped on his bare chest, gripped again at his shoulders.

  “Jacob?” She searched his face, his eyes.

  Still, he didn’t hold her, though it was the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his life. She was his anchor. She had been the strong one from the very beginning. She had become his life.

  But he couldn’t ask her to feel the same about him, not when he had nearly gotten her killed.

  “I can’t stay with you,” he said hoarsely.

  Her gaze was as steadfast as her hold on his flesh. “Because you can’t love me?”

  He laughed, and moisture ran from his eyes. “How could you love me after my failures? I let you believe I hardly knew the Reniers. I didn’t tell you about the feud. I didn’t tell you they were the ones who killed my wife.”

  “I know you had your reasons.”

  “They weren’t good enough. I would have killed Renier and let you…let you—”

  “Did you hear anything I said?” She took his face between her hands. “You didn’t let me die. You would have given your life for mine. Not only today, but a hundred times since the day we met. You are the best man I have ever known.”

  “Lester, William, all the others…they’re the good ones.”

  “It’s not so hard to be good when you live by rules you have known all your life,” she said. “The hard part is making your own and staying true to them.”

  Jacob closed his eyes. “Virgil broke his rules saving my life.”

  “It was his choice. I will always grieve for him, and I will always be grateful for his sacrifice.” She pulled his face down to hers. “You can’t punish yourself forever. Ruth wouldn’t want that if she loved you the way I think she did. I know you loved her very much, and maybe you can’t feel that way about anyone else ever again. But I…I will take anything you can give, even if it’s only your friendship for the rest of our lives.”

  New lives. New hope. A rebirth into a new world of their own making, a new Code of joy. Of love.

  He cupped her cheek in his hand. “You’ll take me…as I am?”

  “Forever.”

  “Then I’ll come with you. But only if you let me love you.”

  He kissed her then, and she laughed and wept and murmured endearments as he laid her down on the bank and loved her until they were both reborn in a blaze of light.

  VIRGIL WAS LAID TO rest in a little grove where Lester and the other Friends had interred the ashes of Levi Carter and Serenity’s parents seven years before. It was a quiet farewell, without ceremony, each prayer spoken in the silence of the mourner’s own heart. Serenity knelt beside the simple grave when the others were gone and laid a bunch of black-eyed Susans across the freshly turned earth. Even Caridad and Zora, who along with Victoria had been essential in deceiving and defeating the Reniers, gave sober thanks for his selfless courage.

  There was no more talk of Serenity and the others leaving Tolerance, though it took Lester some hours to recover from the shock of witnessing Jacob’s Change. He listened soberly to Jacob’s explanation, then quickly agreed that it would be best to keep the matter of werewolves a secret from the other Friends.

  Aunt Martha passed a week after Jacob took the Reniers to the Kerr County Jail. Serenity shared her sadness with the Friends, but not with Jacob; he had determined to stay with the surviving Reniers until they were tried and sentenced. Before he left, he had warned Serenity and the Friends that they might be called as witnesses in any trial, but his letters from Kerrville contained no news of any such need.

  Serenity missed him terribly, but the time came when she knew she and the other women had to return to Avalon. After they were packed and ready, she said her farewells to the Friends, embraced Uncle Lester—who was bravely doing his best not to show his own grief—and exchanged another tearful hug with Elizabeth.

  “Thee will be happy,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps thee will never be a Friend again, but thee will do much good in the world. It is in thy nature.” She kissed Serenity on both cheeks, smiled and walked away.

  THE JOURNEY BACK TO New Mexico seemed interminable, not only because Jacob wasn’t with them, but because Serenity was eager to get home.

  When they finally rode in sight of the ranch house, Caridad whooped, spurred her weary mount into a gallop and blew into the yard like a storm. Victoria rode in after her, just as Helene, Changying and the others ran out to meet the home comers.

  Zora and Serenity rode on together. Serenity found that her joy was mingled with a sorrow she was only now beginning to understand.

  “It looks the same,” Zora said. “Yet so much has changed.”

  Serenity nodded, unable to speak.

  Zora reached over to touch Serenity’s arm.

  “He will come home soon,” she said. “The time will pass quickly. You will see.”

  And it did. Once Serenity had convinced her astonished audience that Jacob Constantine was coming back to Avalon to stay, they all quickly settled back into a daily routine.

  But Zora had been right. So much had changed.

  Serenity rode more lightly, as if her hate had been like shackles that had grown heavier with every year she had let it fester. The bright New Mexico sun warmed instead of burned, and the sky stretched all the way to Heaven. Helene’s baby boy was born on the last day of August. Peace settled over Avalon like a benediction.

  BABY JOEL WAS two months old when Jacob rode in. He was bathed in dust and weariness, his lips cracked and his gray eyes webbed
with new lines. But when Serenity straightened up from the cow she’d been tending and he saw her, he transformed before her eyes. He leaped from his horse’s back, bounded across the grass like something with wings and gathered her up, lifting her and spinning her around until she was too dizzy even to laugh.

  And when he kissed her, the sky burst open and wept with joy.

  They walked back to the house together, leading their horses, wet to the skin, and so lost in each other that they didn’t see Michaela and Judith waving as they passed, and hardly realized when they had reached the outer corral.

  Caridad was gentling a new horse, and she was the first to see them.

  “It is about time you returned,” she said gruffly.

  Helene came out of the house a moment later, beaming and holding her little boy in her arms. Victoria emerged from her workshop, sooty as usual, and Frances followed Changying out of the bunkhouse, slowing when she saw Jacob.

  Changying bowed. “It is good to see you again, Mr. Constantine,” she said.

  “And you,” Jacob said. He looked at the other women with a warm, slow smile. “It’s good to be home.”

  Greetings were exchanged all around, and quiet congratulations extended to the lucky husband-to-be. Frances hung back, shy and a little sad, but then Jacob whispered something in her ear and she was all smiles again. Serenity loved him for making the girl feel better in her loss of the man she adored, but she never asked him what he had told her.

  Near sunset the other women rode in, but Zora had still not returned from her work on the range. After supper, when Jacob had bathed—watched over and thoroughly scrubbed by his soon-to-be wife—he and Serenity strolled up to the yucca-spiked hill overlooking the house. They sat on a tumble of rocks and held hands as they surveyed the valley below.