Wolf's Bane: Book Three of the Demimonde

by Unknown

  All I could hear was the thump-thump of my pulse in my ears, my ragged breathing. "Ten minutes. Oh. Oh."

  "Come to me, my dearest. Just come out, stand in the water with me."

  I rubbed my arms, trying to smooth the goose bumps. "It's got to be freezing."

  "You won't mind it. Come, take my hand." He reached back for me, one hand entreating.

  I stepped carefully into the water, gasping when a small wave lapped higher than I expected. The bite of cold was momentary. Slipping my hand into his, I walked out to where he stood. Together we waded deeper, stopping when the water licked at my chest.

  "I can control my Wolf," Dierk said. "I will wait until you Change so that you are not afraid. All you have to do is breathe, and watch my face. I will be right here."

  He kissed me again, cupping my jaw in his warm hands. I reached up and placed my hands over his, trying to breathe. I felt like I was running out of air.

  "Will it hurt?" I clutched his hands, waiting for the pain. The water was cool, chilling me. I barely felt the rocky bottom of the lake. It felt like I was floating, drifting. I had no anchor.

  "Shh…" He whispered against my mouth, resting his forehead on mine. "The Leni is kind. Your Turning will be easy, graceful. My mother told me about hers. It was…gentle. One day, we will talk about it with our own son."

  Suddenly, my skin began to twitch, like a million little fingers plucked at me. It didn't hurt, but it did very little to ease my anxiety. I gasped.

  Dierk nodded and stepped backwards, away from me. "Just breathe. I will be right here."

  I looked down at my arms, rubbing them wildly. I couldn't stand that twitching. The sensation intensified. I felt like I had the DTs and I wanted to crawl out of my skin.

  Over the noise of my splashing, I heard the call of a woman's voice, a language I didn't recognize. It was inside my head and outside my head at the same time. I didn't know the words but I knew what it was saying, and it was going to drive me insane.

  "Sophie." Dierk's voice sounded tight-rope balanced, in control but knowing a misstep would be disastrous. "Look at me. Just look at my face, Sophie."

  I couldn't focus on him. Not when someone else was so intent on grabbing my attention.

  The plucking. The voice. It was her again.

  A wolf howl laced through the night air, followed by another. Then another.

  And I recognized their voices. God help me, I knew it was Janssen who howled first. I heard Olberich and Cacilia follow. I shouldn't know that—I didn't want to know that—wild eyed, I scoured the darkness for Dierk. Please, make sense of this—

  Dierk reached toward me, reaching but not touching. "Don't fight, Sophie! Breathe it out, it will pass. Just breathe. I can't hold back much longer!"

  I wanted to yell, I am breathing, dammit! But what came out of my mouth was something unintelligible and defiant and I howled with it.

  It was her. It was that voice. She was in my head and she was the one that plucked at my skin and she would drive me insane with it if she didn't stop—

  "Who are you?" That voice, that couldn't be the moon. The moon was just a toy to her. I was enraged. All this time I'd been led to believe one thing and now I saw I'd been wrong—they were all wrong. I let myself swell inside, unclamped the safeties around my barriers and I let all of what made me me just take over. "You are not the moon. You are not the Goddess!"

  Whatever this entity was, it eclipsed even the moon, the Goddess, the feminine divine that drew the Were to her bosom in nurturing protection. This was an interloper. This was a power that knew me and targeted me and I was through being a target.

  Spinning my barriers out like a web, I cast myself upwards and grabbed the moonlight. I pulled the night sky down to me with the power of the emotion that I felt. I seized the moon, that piteous toy, yanking it free from her grasp. I threw it far from me and far from her and I screamed, swirling words of a lunar language—

  Dierk howled my name, his voice seeping into the mellow music of a wolf. He fell backwards away from me before disappearing under the water. I forgot all about her.

  "Dierk!" My scream echoed back and forth, against the water, the rock, the forest. I screamed his name over and over. He was nowhere. I sloshed toward the spot where he'd been standing, reaching down into the water, dragging the depths for him.

  That's when I noticed I still had arms. Hands. Skin.

  The sound of splashing sounded off to the side, near the shore. A huge wolf, shining obsidian in the moonlight, made its way out of the water before turning back to look at me. Golden eyes shone in the dark.

  Dierk's eyes.

  I ran to him, with all the grace of a cow on meth, splashing and nearly tumbling over once I got to the shallows.

  He simply watched and waited, all the while whining. Wincing, my mom used to call it, that whistle-sound a puppy made when in distress.

  I sank to my knees, oblivious of the rocks and scattered river debris, and knelt before him in the mud. Nose to nose. I reached up to touch him, the thickness of wet fur, the ropes of muscle beneath his skin.

  Dierk. Wolf. One.

  Reaching around him, I hugged him closer. He rested his head on my shoulder. He trembled. Was it the cold? I hadn't thought to pack a towel—

  He winced again before withdrawing from my embrace, nosing me to my feet, pushing me toward the path. He wanted me to leave. I didn't think I'd find my way in the darkness without him.

  I turned my back on Dierk and the moon-filled lake and put one foot in front of the other, feeling my way through the trees, one branch at a time.

  The peace of the night was suddenly shattered by the force of Dierk's howl. I knew it was his. I knew his voice. His howl was the sound of a heart breaking, a soul tearing into tatters, a promise being broken. I felt those same pains and I wanted to howl back.

  I knew I never would.

  Morning found me stiff in places I'd forgotten were mine. No matter how comfortable people claim bucket seats to be I'm sure they didn't mean for them to be slept in. I'd have a mark from the seatbelt thing for at least a week and I hated—absolutely hated—sleeping on my back.

  Didn't help that I'd been in a motor vehicle accident less than forty-eight hours ago. Those aches and pains had worked their way to the surface, too. I'd fumbled through the glove box but couldn't find any ibuprofen. Werewolves obviously didn't know what glove boxes were for.

  I lamented the state of my hair in the vanity mirror (aptly named by the way, since who the hell worries about what their hair looks like after sleeping in the car?) when a flash of color caught my eye.

  Dierk was coming up from the woods.

  Talk about mixed feelings.

  On one hand, I was glad to see him. The woods weren't exactly my favorite place to be alone, locked doors are not. More so, I missed him.

  On the other hand, last night he changed into wolf more or less right freaking in front of me. It wasn't a total surprise or anything, but still. Thankfully it wasn't anything like when Toby exploded into an ooey gooey ball of Were. Apparently, it was good to be the king.

  This morning he looked like he always did—head up, eyes alert, gait relaxed. His clothes were a little rumpled, his hair was wet and slicked back as if he'd had a dip earlier. He carried his shoes.

  When he saw me watching, he waved. I turned the key a half click and rolled down the window.

  As he got closer, I saw what could only be sorrow in his eyes. We spent a long moment looking at each other, in silence. There were no words, yet oh, so much passed between us.

  He looked around, lifting his chin, and I knew he was tasting the air. "Room in there for me?"

  "I hope so. I don't want to flip for the trunk."

  I got out so he could climb in and he adjusted the seat to a comfortable reclining position. Once he was settled, I got back in and sat on his lap, leaving the door open so my legs hung outside. Now, this was comfortable, I thought I could have spent the night like this. No problem.


  And that's when I realized what it was that I wanted and what it was that I couldn't have and I ached at knowing that they were the same thing.

  "Have a good night?" I asked.

  "It could have been better." His voice was soft and craggy, like his morning beard.

  "I am sorry," I whispered.

  He shook his head a little as he rested back against the seat, rolling it side to side.

  "Don't be. You've done nothing wrong. Destiny chooses, not us." Dierk sighed. "If it were my choice, I would have you. Already I feel as if I'd betrayed destiny just by holding you now."

  "So that's that?" I blinked against the sting in my eyes. "One night makes all the difference?"

  "You did not change with the moon."

  "That doesn't mean I haven't changed." I felt like I was being strangled but I couldn't say the words. I didn't think it mattered now, anyway.

  He wrapped both arms around me and hugged me against him.

  "My Sophie," he said softly. "To think that I'm always going to be in love with you…It makes it all the harder, because I can never have you. I can never be allowed."

  He let out a deep shuddering sigh, and even though he made no sound, I knew he cried.

  The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel made me sit up.

  Dierk remained motionless, eyes closed. "It is Stohl."

  "He's not happy," I said. For the first time I caught a thin stream of emotion coming from the werewolf. Uh-oh. Can't be good. "He's really not happy."

  I unfolded myself and got out, and Dierk followed.

  Stohl stalked toward us, a play of emotions fleeting across his face as if he couldn't decide which one to wear. When his gaze settled upon me, however, his eyes flashed with anger.

  Great. Stohl was having an issues-with-Sophie day again. I hid behind Dierk, keeping a wary eye on the other man.

  "Stohl." Dierk tensed, but kept his voice level. He must know something was wrong. There had to be, if the Were was so angry I could sense it. "Good run last night?"

  "No." The word was clipped, even more curt than Stohl's usual.

  "Why not? Good weather, good moon."

  "Was it? I didn't notice."

  "Stohl." Dierk sounded apprehensive. "What is wrong with you?"

  Stohl flexed his hands, making and breaking fists, and took a menacing step toward me. "Ask her."

  "Me?" Oh, geez. Here we go again. "What did I do?"

  "You poisoned me." His venomous eyes glared, his lips curling to reveal clenched teeth.

  "I am waiting for explanation," Dierk said.

  "She poisoned me. She did not change, and my bite is the strongest. I've never failed to turn a human. She did not change, and last night, neither did I." Anger turned to hate as it simmered on his emotions, and I knew I was in immediate danger.

  I could feel Stohl because he wasn't Were anymore.

  Dierk didn't even turn around to look at me; he remained a barrier between us as he sheltered me behind him. "You claim this woman's blood prevented you from your change last night."

  "No, it was no mere prevention. She has killed the moon. She has destroyed everything within me that feels the moon, and I will kill her for it."

  "If—" Dierk spread his arms out, increasing the barrier. "If she has done this, your vengeance is the least important of issues."

  "How can you say that? I am no longer whole!"

  "You are no longer cursed."

  In a swift smooth movement, Dierk deposited me behind the shelter of the open car door before standing in front of Stohl, nose to nose. It wasn't confrontation; Dierk was only scenting him. Examining him. "No longer…cursed. You smell human."

  "I am not human." Stohl spoke through clenched teeth. The anger was dissolving, replaced again by kaleidoscopic emotions. Confusion. Astonishment. Fear. "I am Were."

  "No," Dierk said, his voice reasonable. "You aren't. And if you threaten my woman again, you will not be able to defend yourself against me."

  "You choose her over me." Stohl's mouth hung open in disbelief. "I have been your brother for decades."

  "Yes, and still you fight against my choosing a woman."

  "Only that woman."

  I rolled my eyes at him. "Settle down, wolf boy."

  Stohl bunched his fists and leaned into his stance. "Don't call me boy."

  "Don't call him Wolf." Dierk reached into the car and dug out his cell phone. Stohl tried to growl at me, but instead of menace, I heard only a man's impotent frustration. "Stohl, get in the back seat. It's an order."

  Stohl gave him a measuring look and I thought he'd fight him. Instead, he swallowed hard as if fate had given him too big a bite. He went around to the driver's side and got into the back, slamming the door hard enough to rock the car.

  He didn't say a single word all the way back to the city. He didn't make a peep as he listened to Dierk's conversation with Tancred. He didn't utter a single threat against me. Stohl just looked out his closed window and watched nothing.

  Dierk took him back to the Windwood, where Tancred came out to the car for a brief consultation. After making an assessment, they escorted Stohl inside, before Dierk emerged alone twenty minutes later. I waited in the car with the remainder of a cup of Starbucks chai latte; the coffee joint was the only drive-thru food we passed on the way back into Balaton. I knew the two of them had to be starving for more than coffee and biscotti. Strangely, though, none of us had an appetite.

  As he got back into the car, I saw the crease between his brows. Even his usual vague smile seemed to be slipping.

  I waited for him to say something, but he'd clicked on his seatbelt and pulled out of the spot without speaking. Guessed it was up to me to ask. What else was new? "What will happen to Stohl?"

  "Why do you ask?"

  I shrugged. "Well, I mean, if it was my fault that he didn't change—"

  "You keep saying things like sorry and fault. You don't control any of this."

  "Dierk, Stohl bit me. He said I was the only one who never turned. It sounds like I did something."

  He pursed his lips and snorted. "Did you wake up the morning of the day we met and say, 'I think I'm going to unTurn a werewolf'?"

  "No." I made a sour face at the ridiculous question.

  He nodded once, a hard dip of exactly so. "Did you wake up yesterday and say, 'I think I will resist changing with the moon when Dierk takes me to the mountains'?"

  "No." My sour expression relented

  "Did you say," his voice choked a bit and he cleared his throat. "'I think I will turn destiny's course and sunder Dierk's hopes that he has finally found his lifemate'?"

  I said nothing.

  He rapped his knuckles against the window as he waited for a car to pass. "You can't apologize for something you did not intend to happen."

  And yet, I'd gotten so good at it. "What will happen to Stohl?"

  "Why do you ask?"

  "I… don't like him. I won't even pretend to, not even out of sympathy, but I can relate to what he might be going through. Kind of. I know he's mad at me and that he's scared."

  Especially since Tancred told him his options. The options weren't attractive by any means. Tancred was treating him like a failed bite case. It was either bite repetition or an amnesia treatment.

  Stohl took the prognosis with a stony expression. His emotional storm gnawed at me. Probably only because I felt so damn guilty about it.

  "He wanted to kill you on the spot, you know." Dierk grimaced. "Had he been Were, I would have had to fight him. Considering his determination, I might have had to kill him. Stohl was always hard to control on full moon days."

  "If he was Were, he wouldn't have been so hot to kill me."

  "Perhaps," he said, but his voice was a little too mild.

  I snorted. He didn't need to tell me the obvious.

  "Do you still care?" He gave me a leveling look.

  It wasn't enough to cow me. "Maybe. Are you going to tell me, or not?"

&nb
sp; "Stohl will be fine. He always lands on his feet."

  "Like a cat?"

  Dierk chortled. "Don't let him hear you say that."

  "Then don't tell him. So what will you tell the pack when I don't come back with you?"

  His mouth wore a half-frown. "I don't know."

  "Will you lose face?"

  "It's not face I'm worried about. It's you."

  "Why? I thought Stohl was out of commission for now."

  "Yes, but...if it's true...if your blood removed Stohl's curse...you will be hunted."

  I closed my eyes and pressed my head against the window. Just great. First DV, now werewolves. Once, just once, I'd like to be hunted by someone I'd want actually catching me.

  I looked at Dierk and refused to finish the thought. "I don't suppose I'll have you around to protect me."

  "I will when I can." Mild words. Too mild. "When I'm here."

  "And that will be?"

  His voice took on the broad sound of his public persona, The Showman. "The next time we tour, of course."

  "Swell," I said. "I'm back to being a freaking groupie again."

  "Yes," he said with a laugh. "But you are my groupie."

  It was better than nothing, I supposed, and despite all outward appearances, I usually ended up with nothing.

  I spent the rest of Sunday in bed, watching Netflix. I armed myself with a thermos of Darjeeling, a tub of chocolate peanut butter ice cream, and my cat. We watched Ghost Hunters International until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore.

  Euphrates wouldn't let me out of his sight. Every time I went to the bathroom or to the tea pot out on the bar, he was two steps behind me, complaining and warning me not to stray too far.

  I didn't venture out to the rest of the house. I knew it was empty. No Shiloh, no Rodrian. No Toby or Dahlia. No calls. No texts.

  A little piece of me was disappointed. But that was all—a little piece.

  Monday morning, now, that was something I dreaded. I had to go to work and see Barb. I went in early, finding the office still at half-lights, but Barb's office glowed. She was a start early, quit late kind of person. And she was salaried, too. That sort of rubbish gave me the creeps.