Sword of Justice (La Patron's Sword Book 3)

by Sydney Addae

  “Amynta?”

  She refused to respond and blocked the request for conversation. Today had been emotional enough, no need to add more to it. Instead she spent the next hour focusing on her reunion with her daughter. The two of them would rebuild Albuslupos and make the pack a force to be reckoned with. No longer would they hide in the dark, hunted for things beyond their control.

  As Alpha, she insured her pack’s needs were met without the greed of her predecessor. She encouraged learning, spiritual growth and adaptation to a changing world. Under her guidance, the pack had grown, doubled since her sire’s day. At first the males were reluctant to follow until she gutted each challenger, solidifying her position. Many had left but later returned and now served the pack in various positions.

  Over time, the White Wolf Clan had specialized in mystical practices, creating barriers, merging earth’s properties with natural crystals for heat and medicinal purposes. She had taken Nikolas teachings and expanded them for the benefit of the pack.

  Once, during a market run, one of her pups healed a human who’d cut their finger by mistake. The villagers accused the pup of witchcraft and ran her out of town. The next day, three women from that same village brought sick children to their pack for healing. As long as the service they provided yielded good results, no one bothered them. But they weren’t gods with the ability to return someone from the dead. When they failed at that impossible task, the villagers chased them away. Amynta remembered the valley Nikolas had chosen and settled her pack there, refusing contact with humans no matter how many searched for them. When she reclaimed Albuslupos land, her pack-mates would use their differences to their advantage, strengthening the pack and taking their rightful place in clan leadership.

  Her thoughts traveled to Albuslupos. Nikolas had taught her how to seal the land after returning with her and watching buzzards pick the meat from her sire’s bones. Walking through their territory had been bittersweet. An entire pack scattered, destroyed, for what? Greed? A madman’s desire to have what wasn’t his to take? She shook her head as reports from that day of the final battle scrolled across her mind. All her life, her sire trusted no one and in the end he had been betrayed by one he least suspected which cost him everything, including his life.

  She rolled down the window of the automobile, allowing the cool breeze to ease the heat of her anger. The countryside passed in a pleasant blur as she continued toward Konstantin’s. “No longer his,” she murmured, her heart saddened by that reality. Would she ever know what happened when she left Asia with him that last time?

  Sighing, she shifted lanes. Where had her baby been taken? That question haunted her for decades while she searched all over Europe, Africa, and parts of Russia. The child had disappeared without a trace. Initially she blamed Barticus, but it became apparent he was as clueless as her and blamed her for losing their child. She pushed away those thoughts for happier ones as she turned off the highway, parked, and headed for one of the tunnel entrances.

  Dressed in her cape, Amynta walked through the tunnel toward the room she’d shared with her daughter years ago. Someone cleaned the tunnels recently, fixed the cobbled stones and added light fixtures along the paths. Konstantin would be pleased. When she reached the section near Konstantin’s area, she paused and scanned for heartbeats. Full-bloods were further away, but not in the immediate area.

  Pleased to have this time to herself, she accessed the hidden panel that opened into the closed area where she’d spent countless hours so many decades ago. Her hand flew to her mouth when she faced the wall she had warded. Instead of a solid appearance, she saw the entry door. Someone had found her haven.

  Ripe fear threatened to choke her as she touched the markings on the wood. Pressing lightly the door swung forward, welcoming her again. Lights flickered on as she stepped inside and warded the room to ensure she wouldn’t be disturbed. Now that the first wave of panic passed, she realized the covenant between the round table and the Alphas had been broken.

  Despite her warnings that such a plan would never work and would backfire, Konstantin went along with the idea of a covenant in the future if needed and left a small group of men with the means to help shifters. His plan included reciprocity between the two groups, access to pack lands, and longer-life for the round table members. Permanent lands and finances to meet new laws, buy game reserves and anything to make life better for shifters had been granted to the wolf packs. The agreement had been sealed in a blood covenant centuries ago.

  When no one had information on her pup, she suspected the disappearance had something to do with Konstantin’s round table. Not trusting them, she’d closed this room and linked it to that crazy covenant they made with the Alphas so she would know when it failed. At the time knowing that bit of information had been important. Looking at the room, absent her friends and child, it no longer mattered.

  Amynta stared at the large picture on the wall of her younger self, along with her two friends. That had been a rough time. She’d been full of anger and hate. Often threatening Nikolas and Konstantin for the silliest things.

  “We never saw this ending, did we?” she asked their pictures, missing them more now than before. “We planned to change the world, make it our footstool.” She shook her head and stared at Konstantin, he had been certain he’d created the perfect vehicle to protect their packs with his human council.

  She frowned. “What happened to them?” When she had returned for Asia, she had locked up this room and started her search. She and Nikolas hadn’t been involved, now she wondered whatever happened to the round table, did Konstantin’s vision work? She’d have her beta search the matter.

  “My journals,” she said, looking around. “They’re gone.” She inhaled and caught faint whiffs of her pup. Her heart lightened.

  “Asia,” she whispered. “You were here and now you know.” Amynta sat on the bed and hugged the knowledge that her child stood in this room, saw the large picture, touched her things, maybe sat on this bed. The idea warmed her.

  “Someone was down here,” a female voice said from the hall, drawing Amynta’s attention.

  “I don’t sense anyone,” a male said.

  “Damned bounty hunters, we need to increase security down here,” the woman said and they walked off.

  Amynta closed her eyes for a few seconds more, enjoying the slight connection to her pup. She pulled open the drawer, and pulled out paper and pen to write a note in case Asia returned. Seconds later, she placed the short note on top of the drawer.

  Looking around, her fingertips touched the table and chair. A longing rose in her chest to return to the past, she would do things differently if she had a chance. “Life doesn’t work that way.” Alpha Nikolas would say in that deep voice of his. She smiled and stood to leave before more returned. After locking the hidden panel, she ran through the tunnel and made it to the exit when her path was blocked by three full-bloods.

  “You’re on Fekete Farkas land.”

  Fekete Farkas? Seriously? They hadn’t been an effective pack for decades and it was the main reason she’d parked on their land. “I apologize, I didn’t realize.” She took a few steps to pass them, but they spread out.

  “Alpha Niall wants to know your name,” one of the men said.

  “Amynta,” she said and went to move again.

  “Who is your Alpha?”

  Gritting her teeth at the delay, she exhaled. “Alpha Bertoff of the Albuslupos pack,” she said, hoping they didn’t check since Albuslupos land was in the southeast near the border, quite a distance away.

  “He would like to talk with you,” the guard said, moving in position to escort her.

  With a price on her head, she had no intentions of going anywhere with anyone. She sized up the men, saw the earnest expressions on their faces and knew she’d need to be quick.

  “How far?”

  “It doesn’t matter, come with us.” One of the men said, moving to her side. She scanned to see if there were
any others nearby and sensed no one. When she didn’t move, he reached for her arm.

  She stepped aside, leapt up, one hand cupping her balled fist and jammed it into his throat. When she landed she stepped forward, jumped forward, spinning, and kicked the second male across his chin, sending him spinning and falling to the ground.

  Both attacks happened so fast the guard in the lead had just realized they weren’t following him. His eyes widened when he saw the other two on the ground and he charged. Amynta moved forward to meet him, stepped aside at the last minute, spun and kicked him in the back, sending him forward into the ground hard. His head hit the stones. He didn’t move.

  Breathing hard, she picked up her cloak, pulled out the keys from one of the pockets, got into her car, and drove off. Once she made it to the main road she stopped looking in the rear view mirror and exhaled.

  “Alpha Niall,” she said, trying to recall a face to go with the name. The Fekete Farkas pack had lost most of their land when she stayed with Konstantin, something had happened and the Alpha lost it. “Wonder what happened?” she murmured on the drive to find more answers.

  Chapter 15

  Now that servants and security searched for the vessel, Ira moved quickly with a steady gait toward the temple. Looking over his shoulder to make sure he was alone, he entered the gated courtyard and headed down the long decline toward the back. Silence and darkness were his only companions as he unlocked the door to the ceremonial chamber. Excited, blood raced through his veins, energizing his limbs as he moved faster into the depth of the outer chamber to the sacred room.

  Bowing from the waist, Ira repeated a set of permission requests to enter and pray. In a bowed position, he backed from the door and began the task of purifying himself. Once he stood naked, he stepped into the underground pool singing praises to Nicromja. The more he sung, the more he lost himself in worship.

  His heart soared.

  His cares and concerns fled beneath the love he had for his god. With upraised hands, he looked upward. “Mighty Nicromja, I ask that we serve you today as we have in the past. Your vessel has returned and needs your guidance. We need your guidance, great Nicromja.” He waited a few moments and then stepped onto the ledge surrounding the pool. The stones warmed his feet. Invigorated with new purpose and determination he walked forward, placed his palms on the doors of the inner chamber and waited. When nothing happened, he released his breath and entered the room.

  The doors closed behind him on a soft whoosh. His throat tightened at the sight of the unlit candles near the statue of Nicromja. He hurried to correct that sacrilege. If his god hadn’t forbid him to return until he found the vessel, the light of the candles would never diminish.

  As the room brightened, he stared at the awesome visage of Nicromja, God of the full-blood. The artist who had crafted the statue created a masterpiece of a tall, muscular male with long curly hair, wide nose, high cheekbones and a large, long phallus. The symbol of his strength.

  Ira’s heart tightened as he kneeled in front of the statue. “God of the strength of a thousand wolves, I pray your indulgence. Your vessel has returned to find you and fulfill her mission. What would you have me to do?” He remained kneeling until his legs numbed beneath him. And then he lay face down on the floor, meditating and asking for direction.

  Night fell and he remained prostrate before his god, seeking answers and willing to die in that position if necessary. He slipped into either delirium from lack of water or a dream or a vision, he wasn’t sure which. The air lightened. A cool breeze brushed against his flesh, causing small bumps to rise all over his skin.

  Shivering, he pushed up from the pool of water and stared at his reflection. Only he was no longer naked, as required in the inner sanctuary, but wore a white cloth wrapped around his waist.

  Panicked, he tried to remove the offensive material and couldn’t.

  “You should be more involved,” a feminine voice said.

  The High Priest stopped and tilted his head in the direction of the sound.

  “I am involved enough.” A deeper voice, one that filled him with excitement and dread, spoke after a pause.

  “What happened to your belief that humans will attempt to destroy wolves? You rallied the wolves to multiply, increase their numbers and prepare for battle.”

  “What was wrong with that?”

  Ira crept closer, hoping to see his Master up close and the disrespectful bitch who challenged him.

  “You provided no guidance. If I hadn’t stepped in –”

  “No one asked you to interfere,” he yelled. The booming sound vibrated through the ground, chilling Ira’s soul.

  “Granted, but without guidance the humans would have knowledge of their existence –”

  A long sigh and then. “Which would have gotten us into more trouble with the others, I know.”

  Ira tried to see the two of them and couldn’t. His vision blurred to a white opaqueness. His limbs refused to move and he could no longer see.

  “If you make a decree, you should follow through,” the feminine voice said.

  “I do.”

  “You provided your priests with the location of the sacred elixir to alter your chosen vessel, but removed it when they needed more.”

  Ira frowned, how did she know this? As far as he knew, he alone was privy to this information.

  “Second chances are for idiots.”

  “Did you ever return to see the results of the changes?” she asked.

  “Others have need of my time, I don’t check every detail of my servants,” he snapped.

  “The elixir granted your vessel the ability to change so that you could use him later, yet when the vessel carrying the seed escaped, you refused to assist your servants in finding her. Why? After you did all of that, why stop?” she asked.

  Ira listened closely, recalling the forty days of fasting and praying he and the other priests engaged in for assistance.

  “I was busy elsewhere.”

  She snorted. “What about the upcoming war and the ones to lead the battle?”

  “War? What war?”

  “Exactly. Your followers prepared for a battle with the humans because of you.”

  “There may be a battle, there are wars all the time.”

  Ira frowned. Why was his master discussing these matters with an inferior female? His word was law, even if he changed his mind. If he could move or speak he would reprimand the bitch for her disrespect.

  “Nicromja, you deliberately marked my pups and said they would lead this war,” she snapped.

  “All male full-bloods belong to me.”

  “Not that one. Silas is mine. My solution to the problem you created. After all this time, you still try to steal him at every turn, although you know it is forbidden.”

  “You removed the marks, so why discuss it?”

  “The outlines remain and you refuse to remove it from the twin. I did not appreciate the tug of war with their mam.”

  “If you had left the mark in the picture, no one would have noticed. It was the coming and going that caused problems,” he said with a definite bite in his tone.

  “And what of the other, the female?”

  “She’s my vessel, that mark stays,” Nicromja growled. “I have plans for her.”

  “Yet she worships me. The mark is ineffective, merely decorative.”

  “It stays.”

  Ira wondered what mark they referred to, but knew his master was totally within his rights to do what he deemed best.

  “Why not work with your own servants, in time you –”

  “Can what, have a nation of men to worship and serve me as you do?” he snapped.

  Ira didn’t understand, Nicromja had a nation of servants who would give their lives for him if he commanded.

  “Yes, since you covet that. It took centuries to succeed in the tasks given to us –”

  Nicromja snorted. “That is the difference between us. You believe man and wolf can live s
ide by side in harmony. It cannot happen, they are too feral, wild beasts at their core. One day they’ll turn and destroy the humans.”

  “What of the half-breeds?” she asked, startling Ira. Impossible. He hadn’t heard of half-breeds. “You were the first to predict they would rise in large numbers.”

  “Centuries past I believed half-breeds would rise up to lead against the humans. But you are right, about all of it. I lose interest quickly and must be constantly challenged.”

  Ira’s heart dropped. What was going on here? Many Greek gods were vain, idle and worthless in Ira’s opinion. They cared nothing for humans but desired constant adoration and sacrifice. As a full-blood, he never thought his God would fall victim to the ennui that befell the others. This was no longer a dream, it was a nightmare. He tried to move, to wake up, and couldn’t.

  “The last time you were bored you interfered with the natural order of things. You were spared once, don’t make that mistake again.”

  “What? The black Alpha’s death was unjustified. I corrected a wrong, by bringing him back, allowed him to father children –”

  “That was not your decision,” she yelled. Winds whipped around Ira, lifting him slightly from the ground. “With his altered physiology half-breeds were born instead of full bloods. You went behind my back to make your prediction of half-bloods a reality. It will not happen again.”

  There was a pause and Ira tried to inch closer so he didn’t miss the answer. If his Master were in danger, Ira would die assisting him. He craned his neck to see, but the white veil obscured his vision.

  “I have already agreed to your conditions, can you not leave me in peace?” his Master said.

  “Yes, but your people are praying again. Something has them stirred, shouldn’t you at least listen? See what is happening?”