“No, thank the good Lord.” She gazed at the cold coffee in her hands. “I tasted old magic in the air at the town house.”
“Old magic?”
“I don’t know what happened at that house. Who attacked whom. But werewolf magic is against the Code.”
Again and again, my mother had spoken about how she hated magic and those associated with it. Long ago, when she’d told me that werewolves couldn’t cast spells, I’d taken it as the truth. Why wouldn’t it be? I had no inherent spellcasting abilities. Nothing mysterious happened when I handled magical goods at The Bends. None of my werewolf relatives or friends ever talked about old magic—perhaps due to the Code’s restrictions on the matter.
I rubbed the beginning of a growing ache in my forehead. Good God. Grandma Lasovskaya had transformed into something other than a werewolf. Was my grandmother’s unconscious state the reason werewolves shouldn’t cast spells?
My face must’ve betrayed my thoughts. “What did you see, Natalya?” my mother asked.
Visions of the transformation flashed before me in my mind, from the creature’s hunched-over back to its jagged teeth. To me, the werewolf form represented power and beauty—it wasn’t an exaggerated killing machine.
A large hand touched the top of my mother’s head. “Leave it be, Anna,” my father said. “What’s done is done.”
“Nothing good comes from such poison,” she spat. “Magic’s meant for warlocks and witches.” Father stroked the crown of her head while she ranted. “We’ve survived for millennia without their so-called tricks.”
She shrugged his hand away. Dropped her coffee cup on the floor and snatched my hand. “What did my mother do to those men?” Her wide eyes searched mine for answers.
When I didn’t respond, she whispered, “Just do what you always do. Go back to your little world and your little things.”
Before I could cringe as if slapped, a few sharp knocks on the door pulled us out of the moment.
Thorn entered and nodded my way. “I need to speak with Natalya.”
My mother released my hand so I could stand. She refused to face or acknowledge us. As a higher-ranking werewolf, he could have commanded her attention, but he chose not to. As we left I wanted to shout that it wasn’t my fault we’d been attacked. It wasn’t my fault that Grandma had defended us. But I knew my place and remained silent.
Thorn motioned me toward the front door and I followed. Thankfully, only a light drizzle was falling now. I buttoned my jacket while he walked ahead of me. How easily he endured this weather, despite the pain from his wounds.
We weren’t alone. Five men trailed after us. Three walked on the other side of the street while two followed in a car.
“So this is what things have come to.”
He grunted in response. “The pack in Burlington sniffed us out. Rather quickly.”
I wanted to touch the back of his head, but I’d grown tired of always making the effort to reach out to him. Perhaps it was for the best.
“This was a calculated attack on pack members at their homes. These guerilla tactics were a surprise.” He shook his head. “My father had never heard of anything like this before. Since I’ve never defended a territory before, this situation is much more complicated than I’d expected. No wonder he tells me I’m of no use to him. I guess the feeling is mutual.”
He slowed his pace, but even so I couldn’t catch up. It was almost as if he wanted to literally put some distance between us. “I hope you’ve had enough time to catch your breath, so you can tell me exactly what happened.”
I pondered what to say while we walked down the damp sidewalk. A laugh escaped my mouth. “Hell opened up and swallowed us,” I began. I then recounted everything, from my arrival at Aunt Olga’s and Melvin’s delivery of the food up to the point when I discovered Burt trying to suffocate Alex.
“So someone poisoned the food?” he asked.
“Yeah. Took about an hour before it hit.”
“How come you didn’t fall asleep?”
I snorted. “Have you seen the local Chinese buffet? Since I don’t like to be doubled over with stomach pain, I passed.”
He cast my comment aside. “I think I need to have a talk with Melvin.”
“He just delivered the goods. One of the men who attacked us said that the Long Island pack wanted me. I bet Derek and his cronies had someone tail me.”
“That I understand, but why would they plan such an elaborate attack with a rival pack?”
I hesitated. “Maybe Luther promised the Burlington pack some land or something else valuable for helping them bring us down.”
We reached the end of the subdivision and continued down the main road. I waited for the real question about what had happened, but it never came.
“You’re not going to ask me about my grandmother?”
“I’m not as ignorant about old magic as the others. I learned a thing or two in San Diego.”
“So do you know what she’d become? What my grandmother turned into before she killed those men?”
The SUV that was tailing us pulled up to the curb. A window rolled down and a man shouted out, “We caught one of the Burlington boys on Dover Road!”
Thorn said, “Tell them to do nothing until I get there.” Then he turned to me and took my hand. “Before I came inside, I heard some things. What your mother said—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I blurted. “She’s upset about Grandma.”
“Yes, but that’s no reason to take it out on you.”
“Leave it be, Thorn.” I yearned to feel the warmth of his hand for a moment longer. And for him to take me into his arms and tell me that this nightmare would end soon. But instead, he simply released me. “Get in, Nat.” I followed him into the SUV, thoughts swirling around my head.
This was all because of me. The nightmare would end soon, but I feared it would bring the end of me as well.
“Ugh! What did I hit my head on?” Aggie rubbed her bruise. “I can’t believe we got attacked and all I did was hit my noggin on a coffee table. Did I at least trip someone?” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t give me that face, Nat. You don’t have a hangover from hell.”
Aggie glanced at the closed bedroom blinds. Slowly, she eased herself over the side of the bed. “How long have I been out?”
“About seven hours. It’s dinnertime.”
She grinned. “So that’s what I smelled.”
“This is serious, Agatha McClure.” I handed her some water and aspirin. “I don’t know if it’s safe for you to stay here anymore.”
My best friend shrugged and flipped her hair out of her face.
“What if your dad finds out about what’s going on here?” I asked.
Her face darkened. “You let me worry about him. Is everyone all right?”
“Aunt Olga and Pete woke up a while ago. They’re not hurt or anything. Alex is still sleeping.”
Aggie noticed my hesitation. “What about your grandma?”
I’d left out a few things when Aggie had woken up. Guess now was as good a time as any to give her the gory details.
“She did all that? To the bastards who attacked us?”
“It wasn’t pretty. They’ll need a Hazmat unit to clean that town house up.” I tried to sound upbeat, but my final words broke as tears began to well up.
Aggie took my hand. “Is she okay?”
“She didn’t eat the food, so it’s not that. It’s something else. We don’t know when she’ll wake up. Or if she will.”
After that night, the days stretched out. Somehow, I managed to work—under guard from one of Thorn’s men. Maybe it was my job that kept me functioning even while my grandmother continued to sleep. One day turned into three.
My distracted mind leaked into my daily tasks. Bill couldn’t help but notice when I drifted away at the cash register. “Nat, even the guard Thorn posted here is getting more work done than you. Wake up!”
Bill, the ever-manipulative goblin, had c
onvinced my werewolf guard that instead of holding the wall up, he could make a few bucks helping Quinton haul furniture around.
If the guard was such a great employee, I didn’t see why Bill didn’t keep him around to negotiate with conniving harpies. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t care that much about my work. Perhaps things were different now that I might not have someone who I knew loved me unconditionally. My grandmother had always made me feel that way.
Before I had a chance to bury myself in cataloging a set of gaudy enchanted capes, Will came into the store. He scanned the floor until he found me.
“Good news, Nat.”
He seemed a bit happy so I asked, “Did the South Toms River pack manage a truce?”
He shook his head and motioned for me to follow him to a quiet corner. “Unfortunately, no. But Thorn called to tell me your grandmother woke up.”
A smile broke out on my face. That is, until I realized that my family hadn’t called me with the news. “How long ago?”
“About two hours. Thorn said he paid her a visit once he got word.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” My voice didn’t sound as confident as I wished it did. I’d had time to heal, but I’d been broken down in more ways than one.
Will leaned against the counter and bit his lower lip, as if he had heavy thoughts. Compared to Thorn, he seemed too young to shoulder the burden the alpha had to carry.
“There are other things we need to discuss—before we see my father. You and he need to talk about what happened at Olga Lasovskaya’s home. In particular, why the Long Island pack has targeted you as a key person in their takeover.”
Will’s forlorn face said it all, but his words dug the blade deeper into my heart. “Natalya, I have no choice but to bring you before Farley to face judgment.”
Because of my actions, innocent members of the pack had fallen into danger. If they’d surrendered me already, maybe no one around me would’ve been in jeopardy. The Long Island werewolves sure as hell would have continued their takeover of the South Toms River territory—but I would have been one less problem for Thorn’s pack, and for my family, in the whole scheme of things.
I clenched my fists to keep myself from reacting. I tried to remember my aunt’s words and looked Will in the eye. “What time do I have to be at your house?”
“We could go now if you want.”
“What time do I have to be there?”
He swallowed deeply. “Before sunset is fine.”
I shifted to show him that I wanted to get back to work. “I’ll be there then. See you around, Will.”
But despite my brave words I didn’t want to see his father anytime soon.
When, a long time ago, I’d made this same trip to the Grantham cabin, I’d resembled a frightened girl who was hoping for the best. That frightened girl remained—but now she felt like a lamb waiting for slaughter. In my stunned state, I climbed into my car with the guard and drove to Old Farley’s place.
I’d waited until the last minute to leave The Bends, cleaning up my station and everyone else’s.
The guard merely grunted when I told him we needed to go to the Grantham cabin. It wasn’t as if he didn’t frequent the place. I watched the landscape while we drove into the woods. South Toms River had been my home since my birth. This town had been through blizzards, blackouts, droughts, and even recessions. But through them all, the werewolves had remained, and even thrived. We’d huddled together in our homes and weathered storms, together, as a pack. I tried to remember these things as I passed the ice cream shop where I’d been recently with Heidi and Abby the Muse. And then Archie’s place, where I ate lunch every workday.
As I drove farther, I kept pondering what judgment Farley would pass. Would Luther be waiting there for me? Would Old Farley give in to his asshole ways and surrender me to our enemy for the sake of the pack? But surely, even though Thorn wasn’t the alpha, he’d never let his father do such a horrible thing.
I hit a checkpoint before the long driveway to the house. With the Burlington and Long Island packs at our throats, we couldn’t take chances anymore.
The circular driveway in front of the Grantham cabin was full of cars. Most of them likely belonged to the guards posted there to protect the pack’s leader.
When I stopped the car, my eyes drifted to the woods where I’d run with Thorn, then over to the house. The sun slowly drifted toward the horizon, casting a reddish purple haze on the sky. Would this be my last sunset?
Chin up, girl. I straightened my clothes and marched up to the house. I might’ve been cast aside, but I’d been born a Stravinsky. I had the blood of Slavic warriors, however diluted it was in my case, and I would sure as hell try to show it. Key word: try.
The guard didn’t follow me. Before I had a chance to knock, the door opened. A man I remembered from high school stood there. He hadn’t changed much over the years.
“C’mon in, Nat. Farley’s been waiting for you.” His voice sounded like he was ready to prepare me for the roasting pit. “Have a seat in the living room. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
I took a seat on the sofa next to Farley’s La-Z-Boy. To my disgust, I noticed discarded potato chips and pretzels in the seat. Good thing the pack leader wasn’t chosen based on cleanliness.
The big-screen TV had been left on. A western was playing, with a night-time gunfight. Not the best thing to watch while I waited for Farley, but I didn’t have the balls to change the channel. And besides, the remote control, just a few feet away, was covered in crumbs and grease.
The sounds of a conversation from the ground-floor bedroom drew my attention. Though the thick walls kept me from catching the words, I could still make out a heated conversation. Was Thorn here too? His scent lingered everywhere, leaving me wondering if he planned to intercede on my behalf.
The door swung open and Old Farley lumbered in. His expression looked almost soft—until he caught my gaze. Then the old coot sneered. His smile told me I was in for it.
Just behind him, I spied a floral pattern and then a wrinkled face. My grandmother had spoken for me. What had brought these two together?
I rose and took a step in her direction. Of course, Old Farley stamped down on our reunion by slamming the door shut behind him.
“No need to stand on my account,” he barked. “Have a seat.”
I immediately averted my eyes and resumed my place on the couch. His hard gaze burned into me while he shuffled with his cane to his seat. All the while, I detected a subtle shift around me. The guards, who’d remained hidden in the shadows, now emerged to protect the alpha.
When he sat, I heard a soft crunch from the snack food. He grabbed the remote and turned off the television.
I tried to strengthen myself as my father would expect me to. No matter what punishment Farley gave me, I’d still have my home, my job, and my life. If I had to kowtow to his whims, I’d do so. When he opened his mouth to speak, I held my breath.
“I told you the weakest link brings down the pack,” he said slowly. “But you didn’t listen. Not surprised, though. You’re like your grandmother in that regard. I thought you’d make it easy for us when they kidnapped your brother, but I can see you don’t hold the pack’s safety before your own.” He leaned forward and scratched his bum knee. When he didn’t speak right away, I glanced at the window, wishing I could see outside.
“Since you’re a liability to the pack, I have no choice but to force you to leave our territory.” His gaze drifted to the room from where he’d emerged. “But out of respect to the Stravinskys, I’ll give you thirty days to leave.”
I sucked air into a chest that refused to expand. The red curtains behind him filled my vision. I had to leave?
“If the Long Island and Burlington packs aren’t driven off by then, you must leave—or you’ll be marked for execution by our pack.” His gaze burrowed into mine. I waited a split second too long before I glanced away. “I’ll execute you myself if necessary.”<
br />
Silence enclosed the room in a blanket of ice. My body shivered. Whether it was from the chill of the coming winter, or the shock of my world collapsing around me I didn’t know.
“Is there anything I can say in my defense?”
He cackled. “Like what? Luther not only wants to conquer our pack, he has a vendetta against you. Are you keeping something from me?”
“I’m no one. Why would the leader of a powerful pack want me?”
“That’s exactly what I want to know. But since you have no answers, I have no choice but to cut you off. You’re a diseased limb that must be severed from this pack.”
I clenched my fists and dug my claws into my palms. Tight enough to draw blood. The blood’s warmth slid between my fingers and dripped on the floor. I refused to look at him and give him the satisfaction of seeing how far he’d ground me into the dirt.
“I remember there was once another wolf like you,” Farley whispered. “It was a long time ago. He was the alpha’s—my uncle’s—guard. For years, the man seemed quiet enough. Didn’t speak unless spoken to. He knew his place, kept the alpha safe when attacked.
“Then one day my pa found him at his place, talking to himself. He’d talk to the furniture, the houseplants, any piece of crap he had around. Of course, Pa just shrugged it off. After all, the man lived alone with no family. But when things mattered most, my uncle learned a hard lesson.” He turned to me. “Can you guess what my uncle’s guard did?”
I shook my head.
“One day, a rival pack leader came by to challenge the alpha for leadership. That’s how they did it back then—none of this sneakin’ round and slittin’ throats in the night.
“Well, the guard flipped out. Just when the rival leader almost had my uncle subdued, the guard went apeshit and started killing pack members indiscriminately. It was as if he’d lost his mind, grabbing people without thought, not listening to the commands of his alpha.”
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