Bad Wolf

by Jennifer Ashley

  The Shifter was too pale to be healthy, and his eyes were haunted. He met Broderick’s gaze with a skewering stare—an alpha.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Broderick demanded with his usual directness.

  The Shifter carried lightweight packs, which he tossed at Remy and Joanne. Without question, the two started stuffing the equipment into them.

  “Daragh O’Sullivan,” the Shifter answered. “Guardian. Dead. Long story.”

  “You didn’t get dusted,” Broderick said, dread and amazement creeping through him. This was the Guardian who’d been killed, whose body still lay in state up in Montana. “Crap on a crutch, your soul got trapped.”

  “Yep.” Daragh gave Broderick a slow nod. The stoic acceptance of his fate only made Broderick shudder again. “I’d appreciate it if you located my sword and drove it through my heart.”

  Or he’d be here for eternity, Broderick knew. He saw the horror of that in Daragh’s eyes. The Fae not only wanted to enslave Shifter bodies but their souls as well.

  “You got it,” Broderick said. “Joanne, we need to move.”

  “Stop yelling.” Joanne came running, a clinking bag over her shoulder. “What is that thing?” She pointed to the horse.

  “Transportation.” He yanked the dragon-horse’s head aside as it tried to bite Joanne. Broderick hauled Joanne onto its back with him, the bag swinging.

  Remy came after her, and Daragh helped boost Remy up behind Broderick. The horse danced but was strong enough to carry them all. As long as Broderick could keep it under control, all would be well.

  Remy held on to Broderick from behind, and Broderick held Joanne, a much nicer armful. He turned the dragon-horse and charged back out, through the tent and the soldiers and the smoke from the fires he’d lit. The raw alcohol of the soldiers’ celebratory drink, which they carried in highly pressurized bottles, had made nice explosives.

  Broderick made for the woods. The only way he could see getting out of this was to keep ahead of the Fae long enough to let Joanne and her new friend work out a way to take them home, if they could.

  “Why didn’t we bring the other guy?” Remy yelled as they charged through the camp. “He’s a prisoner too, right?”

  “He’s not really here,” Broderick called back. “The only way we free him is if we get home. What about you? Bree’s brother, eh? Don’t tell me you’re dead too.”

  “I don’t think so,” Remy said, his accent like Bree’s. “I saw the missile coming at the helicopter … and then I was here. I was captured in like, three seconds. Fell right into the path of some seriously crazy dudes.”

  “That’s what Fae are. Seriously crazy dudes … Aw, shit.”

  Broderick swerved the horse, but a dozen Fae had risen from among the thick scrub in the woods, arrows nocked. They didn’t bother to warn Broderick or give him a chance to surrender, they just let fly.

  Joanne screamed as Broderick slammed his body over hers, protecting her. Remy slid off the back of the horse, heading for cover.

  Arrows plinked off the chainmail on Broderick’s back. A few arrows stuck, penetrating the links to cut him beneath.

  Then one of the Fae shot straight at the belly of the horse. The arrow went through it, and the dragon-horse died underneath Broderick.

  It screamed and thrashed as it went down. Broderick grabbed Joanne and jumped clear of the horse with her, propelling her into the woods. Six more Fae rose in front of them with swords.

  Broderick shoved Joanne out of their path and attacked them, his wolf claws coming out as he rose to the height of his between-beast.

  The Fae were afraid of him, but they’d also just won a battle against other insanely violent Fae, and they dealt with the dragon-horses all the time. They had fear, but they fought through it.

  The armor Broderick wore tore and split. His teeth and claws helped him fight, but in the end, his exhaustion and their overwhelming numbers brought him down. He fell, swords cutting him, a spear gouging him through the loosened chainmail into his back.

  He saw Joanne held by Fae, and Remy as well. At least we’re together this time, Broderick thought, right before a sword hilt smacked him in the skull.

  ***

  Kian insisted Remy and Joanne continue building their makeshift computer. They were taken to another tent, no longer confined to a solid-walled room, though guards were everywhere.

  “Kian’s not worried,” Remy said. “He just saw that we can’t escape, that we have nowhere to go. They only have to grab us and pull us back.”

  “I’m so sorry you were caught in all this,” Joanne said in a low voice to him. They were left relatively alone; even Daragh wasn’t there.

  Remy gave a mirthless laugh. “No, you were caught because of me. I was minding my own business, off on a mission thousands of miles from home, and bam, I was in this place. The Fae guy who captured me was thrilled to have someone from our world fall into his lap and decided to use me to help him invade. He forced me to start building a portal he could use anywhere … which I guess worked.”

  Joanne helped connect wires while she listened, but she knew she was hearing only half the tale. “It’s not everyday someone finds themselves in a world they didn’t know existed,” she pointed out. “Didn’t you freak? And how did they talk to you? I haven’t understood a single word anyone’s said to me.”

  “He knew a few words of English, enough to get his point across,” Remy said. “I’d already been in a place unfamiliar to me—at first I thought I was just somewhere else in or around Afghanistan. Then I thought I’d been taken to Russia somewhere, then I finally figured out I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Then I focused on getting home. I’ve learned to compartmentalize.”

  Remy worked efficiently as he talked, quickly setting up what he had before. He’d explained to Daragh that he needed power to work it, but since they’d been left in here, no one had come.

  “Your sister is happy,” Joanne said. “She’s with Seamus, now—he’s a Feline Shifter.”

  One corner of Remy’s mouth tilted up. “Yeah, Bree was always into Shifters.”

  “He’s a great guy, and really cares for her. I think they’ll be mated soon.”

  “Good for her.” Remy’s tone told Joanne he missed his sister with hard intensity, but he was bravely trying to hold it together. “What about the other Shifter with you? You two together?”

  “Hell if I know.” Joanne gave a short laugh. “We’ve been going out, and I’m in love with the lummox, but no, we’re not mated or anything. I think he enjoys being a pain in my ass.”

  “He sure took a beating out there.” Remy said. “He has a lot of courage.”

  Tears stung Joanne’s eyes. The last she’d seen of Broderick, he’d been stuck full of arrows, with Fae beating on him. He’d been alive, roaring and cursing, fighting hard. Then Joanne had been pulled away, and she could get no confirmation that they hadn’t killed him.

  She found Remy’s tanned, callused hand on hers. “Hey, we’ll get out of this. And we’ll find him. I don’t leave anyone behind.”

  “Neither does he.” Joanne blew out her breath. She needed to learn to compartmentalize, like Remy was doing, so she could focus. “What do we do now?”

  Remy glanced at the boards they’d set up, the quartz ready to vibrate and produce signals. “We just need power, and then we can contact the other side.”

  Joanne remembered something Bree had told her. “Was it you haunting the attic? Your mom is convinced your ghost was up in the attic of her new house, which is on a ley line, Seamus says.”

  Remy stared at her. “I did try to figure out how to get back across a couple times, tried to communicate, before I was caught. But I couldn’t do it.”

  “Hmm. Well, maybe we can work that out once we open another gate and get home. Can you make sure no one is about to come in here?”

  She spoke so casually that Remy didn’t catch what she said for a moment. Then he, as casually, rose to his feet. “What do you have in m
ind?”

  “I’ll show you. Just make sure we have privacy.”

  Remy went to the slit in the tent that was the door to the room, lifted it with a finger and peered out. He stood motionlessly a moment, a well-built man in fatigues, his buzzed wheat-colored hair catching the lamplight. Again, Joanne had no idea what powered the lamps, but they weren’t electric—they flickered with flame.

  Remy strolled back to her. “Guards milling about, keeping an eye on us, but no Kian or Daragh heading this way.”

  “Good.” Joanne slipped the medallion out of her pocket. When Broderick had slammed himself over her when the Fae were firing at them, he’d pressed the disc into her hand.

  He knew he’d be captured, stripped, searched. He’d have nowhere to hide it. Joanne, they thought harmless. They’d shoved her and Remy back into the tents and ignored them.

  Remy stared at the disc. “What the hell is that?” he asked, making sure his voice didn’t carry.

  “This is how we came over here in the first place,” Joanne said. “I think so, anyway. Broderick had it, we had the code in place and a door frame, and it brought us through. I’m hoping it can take us back. It has magic in it, so I’ve been told.”

  Remy plucked it from her hand, examined the Celtic knot, and set it down carefully on the board. He let out a breath. “I’ve been here long enough to believe in anything. So why not?”

  Joanne repositioned a few crystals to rest around the silver, and they waited.

  ***

  I’m getting bloody sick of cages, Broderick thought, lying as wolf on the floor of another one. Its door was more secure than the previous, with a chain and a lock, and more wires to make his Collar go off if he touched them.

  Broderick didn’t know what they planned to do with him, but at least the head Fae hadn’t killed him. Probably he wanted to use Broderick to fight for him, like Fae had since Shifters were born.

  The thought percolated an idea through Broderick’s brain, but he’d have to wait to act on it.

  He’d given Joanne the medallion. She was smart enough to figure out a way to use it. She might be able to get herself to safety, and then she could round up Dylan and a few good Shifters like Spike and Ronan to come back and drag Broderick out of here.

  Even if Dylan didn’t want to rescue a good-for-nothing shithead like Broderick, Joanne would insist. So would Aunt Cora. It was nice to have two feisty females at his back.

  Of course, if Broderick saw Tiger right now, he’d embrace him like a brother. The Fae wouldn’t know what hit them if they had to face Tiger.

  The idea in Broderick’s tired mind began to solidify. He was a fighter—why not use that to his advantage?

  Of course, he had to have energy and strength to make his plan work, and Broderick was fresh out of both. Being gouged by arrows, spears, and swords did that to a Shifter.

  He lay in the cage, biding his time, thinking of Joanne. He though of every nuance of her—her warm lips, her body sliding beneath his in the dark, her smile that was only for him. Broderick had a treasure in her. She looked at him with a light in her eyes that was both tender and sexy.

  Broderick pictured her lying on the floor with him, surrounded by the computers she loved, her hair against the black matting, her eyes half closed in pleasure. She knew him, understood him, welcomed him.

  Mate.

  Tiger, Goddess bless him, was right. Mating didn’t have anything to do with the sun and moon ceremonies or the mate-claim, or fighting Challenges for her. Even the mating frenzy wasn’t the whole story.

  A mate was the other half of his whole. When both parts met, they sealed as one, didn’t matter if a Shifter leader pronounced it, or Broderick said the right words. They were together, bound. The mate bond, the mystical part of the joining, didn’t understand words or rituals. It just was.

  The nugget of heat in Broderick’s chest spread to his limbs, soothing him, helping his Shifter metabolism heal him. The touch of a mate.

  Broderick gave a growling wolf laugh. Even when the mate isn’t with him.

  Kian, the Fae general of this bunch, and Daragh, the deceased Guardian of the Montana Shiftertown, entered to interrupt Broderick’s beautiful thoughts.

  Broderick pulled himself to his feet, moving stiffly, the wolf snarling. Time to put the plan in motion and hope that Daragh, even though he was only a Feline, would be smart enough to catch on.

  Broderick pushed himself up, no matter how much it hurt, and willed himself to shift to his between-beast. He could speak in this form, if raggedly.

  “I’ll kill you,” he snarled, pointing at Daragh. “Enemy. Feline. You dragged me here.” He slammed himself against the cage, putting up with the shocks that jerked through his Collar. “Enemy of my clan—I’ll tear you apart.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kian looked interested at Broderick’s declaration, as Broderick hoped he would. Though the Fae couldn’t understand the words, he’d understand the tone of voice, the hatred in Broderick’s eyes when he glared at Daragh.

  Daragh blinked a few times, then his body stiffened as he caught on to what Broderick was doing. Well, Felines were slow.

  He translated what Broderick had said, then Daragh sent a ferocious and very Feline snarl back at Broderick. “Stupid-ass fighter,” he said. “That’s all you Lupines can do. Meet me in the ring—and we’ll see.”

  “Tough words from a man outside the cage,” Broderick said. “Tell him—tell him what a bastard you are and that I want a chance to rip you into tiny Feline pieces. I don’t care if you’re dead already—I can still hurt you.”

  Daragh rapidly spoke to Kian, who continued to look interested. Kian sent a flood of words back to Daragh.

  Daragh kept the hostile look on his face while he translated to Broderick. “He says he wants to watch us fight. In a ring we can’t escape from—a Fae-style challenge. He says his men need something to entertain them after their victory.” Daragh snarled, and added for the benefit of any who might understand them. “Be prepared to die, Lupine.”

  Broderick only growled back, sliding down into his pure wolf form. Good answer, Feline. You might actually be intelligent.

  Broderick had bought a way out of his cage. Now to find out if he could escape what the Fae thought of as an entertaining fight, grab Joanne, and haul ass out of here. That Joanne was busy doing her part to free them, Broderick had no doubt.

  He could count on his mate.

  ***

  A spark crackled around the quartz and makeshift tubes. Joanne jumped, having dozed off. They’d sat for hours waiting for something to happen, and Joanne, exhausted, couldn’t keep her eyes open.

  Remy, as alert and fresh as ever, stared with clear blue eyes at the medallion.

  “Damn,” he whispered. “That can’t work.”

  “It’s magic—just go with it,” Joanne murmured back, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. No need to alert the guards.

  Remy picked up two wires, stripped the ends, and started tapping them together. “This is sort of what I did before. I lost half my equipment when this bunch of Fae slaughtered the other bunch of Fae. That was fun.” His bleak look told her it had been anything but.

  “This has to do something,” Joanne said, sitting so that her body hid his from any guard who might peek into the room. “Code, Sergeant. Code like the wind.”

  Remy tapped rapidly, sending signals Joanne couldn’t identify. What they were wasn’t the point. The point would be having them reach someone who could help them.

  She heard commotion outside the tent and moved to look out. Five Fae guards stood solidly at the entrance, but beyond them, in the corridors of the pavilion, soldiers were talking, laughing excitedly, giving each other a hard time, in the way of males everywhere.

  Joanne kept watch, ready to alert Remy if anyone headed for them. Remy kept on making sparks, sending pulses to who knew where.

  He’d just set down the wires with a sigh, rubbing his arms, when the medalli
on rang on its own.

  Joanne hurriedly crossed the room, hovering over the board. The medallion’s music faded, then it started again, but in exact bursts.

  “Is it her?” she whispered excitedly. “Cilla?”

  “I don’t know,” Remy answered, as excited as she was. “At this point, I don’t care.”

  “Tell them to be ready,” Joanne said. “Tell them to put together the door frame. We need to figure out a way to get Broderick.”

  Remy started in, but a few seconds later, Joanne heard voices coming toward them, and then guards snapped back the canvas.

  Remy dropped the wires and yanked them from the sockets at the same time Joanne snatched up the medallion and shoved it back into the pocket of her jeans.

  The guards pointed swords and knives at them and motioned them to follow. As soon as Joanne came to them, one caught her arm and dragged her along, the point of a dagger pricking through her shirt to her side.

  Remy was pulled behind. He didn’t fight, and neither did Joanne. Better to find out where they were being taken first.

  Instead of entering another tent in this sea of tents, they were propelled into the woods. Joanne’s heart beat faster. Were they being taken out to be killed?

  After about five minutes of walking, they emerged into another clearing, this one packed with Fae. The Fae made a circle around a large open area, and the energy was electric. The Fae soldiers were avid, eager, drunk with their triumph over their enemies and whatever liquid they passed around.

  On one side of the circle was a cage, in the cage, Broderick. He was in wolf form, glaring out with his white-gray eyes, ears back, snarling.

  On the other side of the circle, Daragh.

  Daragh had stripped out of his clothes, and now stood naked and upright, his Collar gleaming. He faced Broderick across the bare space and growled back at him.

  “What the hell?” Joanne cried.

  Daragh heard her and glanced over. “Battle. He challenged me. I had to answer.”

  Joanne’s mouth hung open. She wanted to ask more questions, such as why? but something in Daragh’s eyes made her fall silent.