by Debra Dunbar
“I need you to tell me right now about the elf that saved you. And you’re not intending on bringing her to the compound, are you?” Jake sounded suspicious. And a suspicious Alpha wasn’t likely to be a welcoming one.
“She’s not an elf. She’s…some other kind of fae. A sidhe. They’re like cousins to elves. It’s a long story.”
“I’m ready to hear this long story of yours. And I’ve got a problem with strangers in the compound right now,” Jake told him. “We have humans who are trying to murder us, and evidently they’re being assisted by an elf. Then you tell me you stumbled across an elf in the Denali Pack territory. An elf. No one has seen any elves in Alaska, but now there are two wandering around? They must know each other.”
“She’s a sidhe, not an elf. She saved my life, Jake. And yes, she knows who the elf is that created the magic on the bullets.”
Jake inhaled sharply. “Okay. I need you to stay put for a few days until I can charter a plane or chopper to pick you up. Is there somewhere safe for you? And for her? I want you to protect her with your life, Dustin. If she knows this elf, then she’s valuable to us.”
As if he’d do any less. Dustin frowned at the implication. “Yeah. We’ll… I guess we’ll hole up at Mark and Brenda’s. There’s a clearing for a chopper, or a plane with pontoons can land on the lake. The coordinates are in the log book in the office.”
He had no money. He was wearing borrowed clothes. As uncomfortable as it was to go back to stay at Brenda and Mark’s, it was the best option available to them. Dustin looked over at Gwylla and thought about the message hanging from the mirror on the tree. Jerk Face knew they had been there. He’d sent a message last night, but he’d most likely appear in person next time. Dustin would just have to hope that Gwylla’s wards held. And that Mark had a whole lot of steel and iron in that shed of his.
“Good. I’ll try to get someone there as fast as I can. And I’ll call Moira about Brenda and Mark. She’s already got her hands full, but she’ll want to know.”
“I couldn’t reach her just now, but I left a message.” Obviously it was good manners for Jake to call and give his condolences and express support in hunting down the killers, but Dustin wanted his Alpha to know that Moira might already be aware that two of her wolves had been murdered.
“She didn’t pick up?” Jake seemed bothered by that, and there was very little that bothered Jake. “When I called her a few days back, she told me that she’d had a wolf go missing. It seems the hunters might have shifted focus from Kenai to the Denali Pack territory.”
“We’ll get them,” Dustin vowed. “We’ll get this elf, and we’ll get these murderers as well.”
Jake made an approving noise. “I hope so, because all I care about at this point is killing every single one of them.”
As in most things, Dustin agreed with his Alpha on this.
Chapter 15
After a silent walk back to the cabin, Gwylla went to reinforce the alarm system she’d put around the property while Dustin headed to the shed to see what Mark had in there that might serve as a weapon against an elf.
He was worried. That scroll… Gwylla might have at one time had a romantic entanglement with this guy, but Dustin had a feeling he wouldn’t hesitate to use force to drag her back. And once she left and he imprisoned her, Dustin feared they’d never rescue her. They’d either never find her, or they’d find her body in some basement somewhere.
Gwylla was too smart to be persuaded by threats or promises of his safety to voluntarily leave with the elf, but Dustin feared she’d die fighting him. Which was why he was knocking the heads of hammers to use with a slingshot and loading shotgun shells with nails.
The hunters had ransacked the house for weapons, but they’d overlooked this old shotgun in the shed, and Dustin still had the rifle from the dead guy. Plus, the hunters had obviously been looking for human weapons—things that could be used against humans. They never would have considered that half the stuff in this cabin would be lethal to an elf. If he could only get close enough, he could stab the guy with a butter knife and most likely kill him. Or throw a toaster at him from across the yard.
Thinking of all the ways to kill Jerk Face with random household appliances made him feel better, and by the time he went back into the house with his deadly stash of tools and supplies, he was whistling.
Gwylla definitely wasn’t feeling his optimism. As he deposited his armful of metal, he saw her at the bullet-riddled dining room table, her head in her hands.
“Hey. It’s going to be okay. You’ve set up a perimeter. I’ve got plans to kill your ex-boyfriend with a toaster. Trust me, we’ve got this.”
She lifted her head, a smile trembling at the corner of her lips. “Toaster?”
“Yeah. I’m a werewolf, so I can throw things really hard. I shotput the toaster into his face, and boom! Dead elf.”
“And if you miss?”
“Well, then, there’s always the mixer. Or the microwave.”
She laughed, then her face grew serious. “Dustin, I barely escaped him before. He won’t be fooled like that again. If he thinks he can’t force me to come with him, he’ll kill me.”
“Not if we kill him first. Remember? Toasters and microwaves. He’s arrogant, and he knows very little about this world, the humans, or us. One stupid mistake and he’s mine. And trust me, he’ll make a stupid mistake. They always do, usually about the time they deliver their long, boring villain monologue.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe this, but you’re actually convincing me that we can win this. I’d hoped your Alpha could get you, that you’d be safe with your pack, and that I could face Talligie alone. I didn’t intend to drag you into this fight.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you did, because there is no one better at slinging small appliances than me.” He walked over to the table and sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her against him. She relaxed, putting her head on his shoulder, and he kissed her hair. “Together we’ll do this. Wonder Twins, right?”
He felt her smile against his shoulder. “Right.”
“Then let’s celebrate. We’ll feast, which for me will mean lots of meat, and for you probably more raisins and possibly that tub of yogurt if it’s not expired. Brenda’s got a few bottles of wine, too. We’ll toast to our victory. But no getting drunk.”
She snorted. “I doubt these werewolves have enough wine in their house to get me drunk. We sidhe know how to party, and we are better than anyone about holding our liquor.”
“Well, you’ve never seen a werewolf drink before. Once this is over, you can come over to my house for vegetarian pizza and beer and if you’re lucky, I’ll break out the tequila and drink you under the table.”
She lifted her head to look at him. “To your house? You’d invite me to your house?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not as nice as your little place in the hill, but it’s pretty sweet. Usually only mated couples get houses and the rest of us live in dorms, but I got a house since I fly the pack plane and I get called out for jobs at weird hours sometimes. It’s not big, but I’ve got a dart board, and a nice TV. We can watch a movie after pizza, before I get you drunk.”
She watched him, fascinated. “And what happens after I get drunk?”
He was going to go with this. Yes, he was going to make a giant fool of himself, but oh well. “We make out, then I take you into the bedroom and we have the best sex of our lives. Although, maybe we should do that before I get you drunk, that way you don’t pass out on me, or puke in the middle of it.”
Smooth. Yeah, real smooth.
She blinked, then nodded. “Okay.”
Okay? Was that okay, okay? Or just okay?
“Then we have a plan. Kill your evil ex-boyfriend. Fly out of here on whatever Jake sends to pick us up, then enjoy our amazing pizza-tequila-and-sex night.” Was she really agreeing to this? Was he dreaming, or was she joking? Or was she really going to at the very least eat pizza and d
rink tequila with him? And sex?
“Will you visit me at my sanctuary, too?” she asked. “I’ll make some fresh bread, and a mushroom pate and I have wine. And we can have sex before you get drunk at my house, too.”
He could barely breathe. “Yes. Absolutely. That sounds lovely. Especially the sex part.”
“Good.” She stood. “Then this is settled. We will spend lots of time at each other’s houses, eating and drinking and having sex. Three things that we sidhe enjoy the most. And I will be especially happy to do them with you, because I like you Dustin.”
He pinched his thigh hard. Definitely not dreaming. “Yes. Good. Let’s scavenge for whatever is edible and drinkable in the kitchen, then get on with killing this psycho ex-boyfriend of yours, because I’m eager to start doing these three favorite things of yours.”
She laughed, then leaned forward and kissed him. It was different than that soft kiss when he’d been injured and in her bed. This kiss was passionate and full of promise. Before he knew it, Dustin’s arms were around her, pulling her down onto his lap, his hands tangling in her hair. Her hands scooted up the bottom of his shirt, cool against his stomach.
He pulled away, reaching down to still her hands. “No. I want to wait. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t want this to be an oh-my-god-we’re-gonna-die thing.”
Her fingers caressed the skin along the top of his waistband. “Are you sure?”
No. “Yes, I am.” He leaned forward and kissed her once more, just because he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I want to wait. I don’t want heat-of-the-moment sex. Well, I do, but I want the first time to be because we’re really feeling it for each other.”
“I am feeling it for you.” She rested her forehead against his. “But to prove it to you, I’ll wait.”
He scooted her off his lap. “Good. Because we’re not going to die.”
She grinned. “No, we are not, because you are the toaster-man, or toaster-wolf, or whatever. And now let’s go drink human wine and eat raisins and celebrate, for tonight we kill the evil ex-boyfriend known as Jerk Face.”
Chapter 16
The sun was a ball of tangerine, lighting the sky above the lake in shades of peach and turning the lingering clouds into a violet contrast. They’d cleaned out most of the contents of the fridge, and Dustin had managed to find a glass jar full of change, vowing that if they were still here tomorrow evening, they’d go into town for dinner of burgers—veggie or meat—and milk shakes. Gwylla’s earlier confidence had faded with the light, but instead of fear, a feeling of resigned calm settled over her. What would be, would be. She would need to trust in the Lady to guide her hand—and guide Dustin’s aim with the toaster. And the uncomfortable sense that she needed to reveal her secrets to someone—to Dustin in particular. She didn’t want to die with all this deception between them. And if she lived—well, deception between friends was a terrible thing, and it seemed that they might become even more than friends.
“What would you do if you were ever ousted from your pack?” she asked, rocking as she watched the last bit of sun seemingly vanish beneath the surface of the lake.
“Oh, sheesh, that’s a horrible thought. I guess I’d petition to join another. If I were ousted, I’d figure that it hadn’t been a good fit between us, and I’d research carefully before I requested to join another pack.”
“But what if you were blacklisted? That’s the correct term, right? What if no wolf pack would allow you to join? Where they all shunned you?”
He shot her a perplexed look. “I’m not really suited to be a solitary. Male bear shifters do that all the time because they don’t have a pack structure, but they seem to have the personality for living completely alone and isolated. I’d probably go live among the humans. My wolf wouldn’t be happy, but at least I’d have companionship.”
“But you already live among the humans, so that wouldn’t be terribly difficult, would it?”
He shrugged lifting his hands. “In some ways, no. We look human, so that’s not a problem. We’ve embraced their technology, mirror their social structure to a great extent. I could get a job, go to happy hour with the guys after work, eventually move out of an apartment into a house in the suburbs. But deep down inside, a part of me would feel empty and alone. No more hunting in wolf form, my pack by my side. No more sharing experiences and feelings that only shifters can relate to. There would be a huge portion of myself that would forever remain unsatisfied.”
“And you’d always feel like a stranger in a foreign land,” she mused.
“Yeah, but the humans would never know, they’d never understand. They’d probably just think I was prone to occasional fits of depression or something. It would be hard, but I’d survive. And I’m sure in time, I’d come to love and cherish many things about life as a human. After all, it wouldn’t be completely different than my life as a werewolf. Maybe thirty percent different.”
She let his words sink in while she rocked, watching the sky slowly darken as Dustin observed her.
“Is that how you felt among the elves, Gwylla?” He broke the silence. “Is that how you feel here? Why didn’t you return to Aerie and tell your queens that the elves aren’t ready and that you’ll try again in a few hundred years or so? Why didn’t you return when you escaped Talligie? He would have never been able to reach you in Aerie, and I’m sure your link would have been broken, not just muted.”
He sounded hurt, and she knew he didn’t want her to leave.
“I can’t. I lied, Dustin. I’m not an ambassador sent to convince the elves to come back to Aerie, I’m an exile. I can never return. Never. I fabricated that story because I knew the elves would never take me up on that offer, and the ruse allowed me to have a status in elven society that I otherwise would not have had.”
He watched her for a minute, his expression unreadable. “Okay.”
Okay? Just okay? “I lied, Dustin.”
“Yeah. And what would have happened if you hadn’t lied? What would the elves have done had you told them you were exiled and banished to Hel?”
She shuddered. “I would not have had the implied protection of the queens to keep me safe. I would have needed to trade my magic abilities for food and shelter. I would have most likely been preyed upon by someone who promised to be my patron in return for exclusive use of my magic, then fallen into a sort of slavery to him.”
Which was ironically what had ended up happening with Talligie, anyway. How the fates always found a way to deliver the outcome they desired, no matter her efforts to lead events to an alternate conclusion.
“Then you were right to lie.” He turned in his chair to face her. “History is full of people who did what you did. There are thousands of stories of false foreign princes in various courts, mingling with the nobles and pretending to be on vacation or on diplomatic missions when they had a death sentence over their heads back home. In the last few centuries, that hasn’t happened as much because there’s faster and more thorough global communication, but it happened.”
“Don’t you want to know what I did to deserve my exile?” she asked, dreading that his friendship might vanish just as quickly as the setting sun once he heard.
“If you want to tell me.”
She took a few breaths to steady her nerves. “Treason.”
He chuckled. “It’s treason when you lose. It’s overthrowing a despot for the good of society when you win. Gwylla, this country was founded by a bunch of traitors who took a huge risk on the very slim chance that they could wrest this land from the control of the British monarchy and form a nation of their own. If we had lost, the very heroes whose faces are on our currency right now would be called traitors. And they would have faced the hangman’s noose, not exile had they lost.”
How very strange these humans and wolf-men were. “I didn’t want to take over Aerie. The queens are very powerful, and such a thing would have been far beyond my abili
ties. And I do not want to rule. I merely orchestrated events so that something the queens were putting in place failed. And I was discovered. Remember how I said fae society is very political? Well, those who wished to see me discredited seized upon my wrongdoings and amplified them. I was accused of many things that I did not do in an effort to make sure I did not manage to wiggle out of punishment.”
“So you were framed? You weren’t really guilty of treason, just…I don’t know what to call it. Minor betrayal? Dissent?”
“Oh no, it was treason,” she assured him. “Any action that goes against the queens’ mandates is treason. Piling on additional accusations didn’t lessen the fact that I was guilty of the worst crime. Not that I was alone in my actions. Many fae each year have committed the same type of crime. Some are able to escape the charges, but most face The Hunt.”
He nodded. “I wondered if that’s what you meant when you told me about your hunt. There must be a lot of dissent if you have enough criminals to hold this event annually.”
“Many commit suicide before the annual Hunt, but others try to keep up their strength so they can have one last moment to defy the queens. They always are killed in The Hunt, but sometimes a few hunters are injured or even killed before the convicted are.”
“Doesn’t sound like even such a punishment is an effective deterrent. Your queens must be horrible.”
She shrugged. “Not horrible. The truly powerful sometimes become misguided, their judgement clouded by a false sense of divine purpose. It happens.”
Dustin grimaced. “Yeah, it does. So how did you avoid this Hunt and get banishment instead? Or did you manage to escape the queens as you did the evil ex-boyfriend?”
“A few supporters convinced the queens that for me in particular, banishment would be a worse fate. I arrived in Hel thinking that they might be right, but then everyone believed my lie, and I began to think that perhaps I could make a life for myself with the elves, that in time the whole ambassador story would fade and I’d just a sidhe consort to a high lord. I went from one crime to another.”
