by SJ Himes
The night was darker, far darker than it should be with streetlights on the corners, and the snow seemed to fall thickest here as the three wolves exited the SUV . Kane tasted the air, the sweet scent of fresh snow, and the tangy mingling of multiple wolves came and went as the wind constantly changed directions. He joined Burke and the dour Gerald on the curb, eyeing the lonely street one last time before heading for the unmarked door halfway down the block.
Kane knocked, a staccato beat to alert his team locked inside, not wanting to risk a mind call, wary of alerting the wrong wolves to their presence. Heromindes was an Alpha and would be able to sense any private mental conversations going on in his vicinity, if not necessarily able to discern the words, and he didn’t want to be rude to the resident Clan Leader. Not to mention the possibility of the traitors being nearby. While it took an alpha of incredible power to ‘listen in’ on a private mind to mind connection between two wolves, there were the rare lesser alphas out there, plus unaligned alphas of the greater variety, who had the affinity to hear any wolf, even over great distances. Burke was one of those greater alphas, making him Black Pine’s only Speaker.
For the last twenty years, across the country, wolves were disappearing. That wasn’t unusual, considering their species’ inherently violent nature and the fights that broke out amongst the lower ranks of each clan and pack. Wolves got killed by accident, murder, silver-based drugs and misfortune all the time. Sometimes they would even be kidnapped by enterprising government entities or private corporations that resulted in Kane and his people getting them back with fang and claw, or Caius and his veiled threats to get the missing wolves returned. What was different in the present situation wasn’t that wolves were missing—it was the number of wolves missing from the same area, during the same narrow time frame, and the occurrences were greatly increased in the last ten years. Whole family packs were vanishing; minor clans and roaming packs were disappearing in large chunks, with no viable reasons or suspects.
The missing wolves would be found, eventually. Dead. Dumped in mass graves along lonely back country roads, in landfills, quarries, any place with minimal human traffic and exposure to wildlife, insuring the speedy decomposition of the remains. The wolfkin were being kidnapped and killed in larger and larger numbers, and the allied Clan leaders of the Northeastern clans struggled to stop the disappearances, and find the people responsible. No one knew why, but the prevailing theories were experimentation, and hunting for sport.
The only thing the disappearances had in common was the appearance of strange wolves in the area of the missing wolves in the days preceding each mass abduction. It was considered polite for wolves to visit the established pack if they were traveling or moving into a claimed territory, to get permission to stay or to just be courteous, so as to avoid fighting. Most clans and packs were laid back about territorial disputes, allowing a few strangers to pass through unmolested, as long as their business was quick, and nothing untoward happened to draw the attention of the humans in the area. Having strange wolves in a claimed territory who did not approach the established clans or packs were noted, and the alpha or highest ranking beta in charge would report the behavior to the Greater Clans.
That happened this time, in Worcester, last week. Ashland, the Greater Clan of Massachusetts, received complaints from the local family pack, the Suarez family, who held the southern edge of the city, reporting that half a dozen strange wolves were in their territory and weren’t following established protocols for visiting wolves. Any time contact was attempted by the Suarez pack with the interlopers, they disappeared. This was reported to Clan Ashland, who sent a pack of lesser alphas and high ranking betas to deal with the trespassers. Yet once that pack arrived, and went to the territory belonging to the Suarez family pack, they were gone. Twenty wolfkin were missing, fifteen adults and five children, their homes broken into, signs of a struggle everywhere, and the scent of unknown wolves laden over every surface.
Kane knocked again and backed off from the door as he heard footsteps approaching. Burke relaxed beside him a second before Kane felt the mental touch of one of his betas, Sophia, who was the ranking member of his team.
She opened the door, weapon up, the barrel pointed right at his head. A grin lit up her pretty features, her dark hair pulled back in a long tail high on her head. She was shorter than him by over a head, and weighed a hundred pounds less, but she was an exceptional fighter, and far older than her twenty-something-looking age suggested. She led when he and Burke were called away by other duties, and she did it well, often teasing Kane and Burke that if she were a male, she’d be their alpha, instead of the other way around. Kane was of a mind to agree.
“Alpha Kane, Alpha Burke, welcome to Worcester. What the hell took you so long?” Sophia dropped the gun, flicking on the safety and holstering it on her thigh. She stood back from the door and waved them in, and Kane heard the low grumble from Gerald as the lesser alpha passed Sophia where she held the door.
“Alpha Gerald, I was not informed you were coming,” Sophia said, features tight in displeasure. She was polite, and very reserved. Gerald was not popular with the females of Black Pine, especially the high-ranking ones, the females with the strength and willpower to resist his meager allure and poorly disguised noxious attitude. Gerald had the unfortunate habit of seeing them as a challenge, and hounded them at every turn.
“None of your business, beta. Father sent me along, so watch your mouth,” Gerald snapped, and Kane turned in time to see him leaning down in Sophia’s face, inches from her, the posturing of a wolf threatened by a stronger opponent written clear in the tense lines of his body. Kane shook his head, wondering if he’d have to explain to Caius why his son was broken before the mission got underway. He and Burke watched the interaction between the beta and the lesser alpha with interest.
They dropped their bags, just in case Sophia needed help moving the body, and leaned against the entranceway wall, just as Gerald made the colossal mistake of poking Sophia hard in the shoulder with a large, meaty finger. He must have been expecting her to drop her eyes and tilt her head, or even fall to her knees—he really wasn’t expecting the reaction that he got to his unwanted touch instead.
Gerald groaned in pain and shock as he face-planted the wall, one arm twisted high behind his back, the joint straining. She lifted him by it, until he was standing on the tips of his toes, his free hand clawing at the wall. He howled as she twisted higher, and Burke bit back a snort of laughter. Kane elbowed him, thinking laughter wasn’t the best thing as Sophia sent them a wicked glare. Sophia leaned in to the hold she had on the larger wolf, her tiny frame belying the immense strength at her command. She was older than all three of them, a wolf long versed in combat. Once upon a time, she wielded a sword instead of a gun, in ages past.
“Touch me again, Gerald, unranked son of Caius, and I will rip you apart. I answer to Alphas Kane and Burke—and they know better than to touch a woman without her permission. Stay out of my way, and I won’t Challenge your piece of shit ass.” She twisted one more time, and Gerald slapped his hand on the wall three times, like a MMA fighter in the ring. He caught himself surrendering and growled in frustration.
“Bitches don’t Challenge,” Gerald snarled, and both Kane and Burke winced as Sophia punched the pinned wolf in the kidney with her free hand, making him yelp. “Okay! Dammit, let me go!” Gerald yelled, and Sophia dropped him, backing away as the lesser alpha dropped to his knees, cradling his abused arm and whimpering. Sophia reached out, and calmly shut the door, locking it before stepping around Gerald.
“Alphas? This way please, the Clan Leader of Ashland is expecting us.” Sophia gestured down the hall, and she led the way, all three of them ignoring the moaning fool left in the entrance of the closed business. They grabbed their bags, and left Gerald to sort himself.
“Any problems?” Kane asked, shifting his duffel over his shoulder. Burke paced behind him, lon
g strides slowed as he kept an eye on the hall behind them. Gerald was just the type to come up from behind and attack, especially after being beaten.
“None, sir. All team members are accounted for, and we have surveillance in place. Alpha Heromindes has supplied us with three additional teams, all lesser alphas.” Sophia turned at a junction in the hall, leading them deeper into the building. The lights were off, the faint glow from the emergency lights providing more than enough visibility to navigate. They wanted this building to look empty, and having unnecessary lights on would merely attract attention. Their night vision was superb, though in human form not as powerful as it was in their wolf bodies.
“No shamans?” Burke asked, as they entered a large storage room in the rear of the building, the ceiling twenty feet overhead, a long table set up with small lamps along the far wall, surrounded by wolves. Some were in wolf-form, great hulking beasts that tracked their entrance, eyes reflecting the low lights from the lamps.
“Actually, there is a shaman…” Sophia trailed off as a man stood from the table, and approached them. He was pale, and slim, his body more delicate than the average wolf. He was no alpha, and there was the faintest hint of a yellow-gold aura that sparked with every step. Kane saw his features as he cleared a deep shadow, and felt his heart twist in pain and welcome, a memory of a warm summer night and the scent of funeral pyres rising briefly as the shaman came within arm’s reach.
“Shaman River,” Kane murmured in greeting, holding out his hand, pain and bitter disappointment briefly choking his words. Shaman River gripped his hand, and said nothing, the delicate bones of his hand full of a strength of a different kind than Kane’s. He hadn’t seen Shaman River since that ill-fated day almost fifteen years ago, at the gathering where Gray Shadow and his family fell.
Kane beat back the memory of rushing waters, and a broken promise, the biting hint of burning pine as the murdered wolves who were sent back to the Great Mother. Kane gripped River’s hand tightly, and ducked his head, not wanting anyone to see the pain he was experiencing. It was foolish to feel this way, after nearly fifteen years. He’d done his best, and it still felt like he hadn’t done enough that day. He had made a vow as he raced the river, a vow to himself and the Universe to keep searching until he found Luca. Yet that promise came to naught, the cub lost to the river and time. His strength and abilities were nothing against death, no matter that his heart said Luca lived. His mind knew better.
*Kane.*
A touch of warm golden light swept a balm of peace over his thoughts, his name a mere whisper in his mind. Kane bit his lip, glad for the deep shadows, and the shaman’s body obscuring the other wolves’ line of sight. He couldn’t afford to appear weak, not now.
*Kane. You did not fail Gray Shadow. Or Luca. You did more that day than anyone, myself included. Don’t carry guilt along with grief.* The golden light traveled from River’s hand to Kane’s, rising up his arm, relaxing him as it spun out questing tendrils towards his chest. Kane let the light in, and River took full advantage, the shaman’s own sense of peace and contentment easing the ache in Kane’s heart. It felt like forever, as the shaman banished the guilt and grief. He didn’t remove it, he merely let Kane regain his equilibrium, his confidence, until he could control his own emotions.
*There you are. Feeling better?*
*Yes. Thank you, Shaman.*
Kane sighed, and opened his eyes, not realizing he’d shut them. Burke and Sophia were waiting patiently, and Kane discerned that while it may have felt like minutes had passed, in reality it was merely seconds, and neither Burke nor Sophia had seen the shaman soothe Kane’s emotional injuries. Not many wolves were attuned to seeing the mystical side of a shaman’s workings, and Kane was more sensitive than most. Kane nodded in thanks to the shaman, and River dipped his head, features calm, unruffled, as if nothing had happened.
“Come. Heromindes is waiting,” River told him, squeezing his hand once before dropping his grip, gesturing to them as he walked back to the table and the waiting wolves. Kane followed, head high, heart rate back to normal. There were nearly eighty wolves in this room, only a third of them his own, and the scent of something other than total confidence would upset the precarious balance between the separate packs. Kane must be so strong that Black Pine’s fewer numbers would not be seen as a weakness. Ashland was an ally, yet they did not hesitate to Challenge other packs if they wanted something, and Sophia with her prowess and Burke with his mental abilities were appealing to other packs.
Kane saw Heromindes once they got closer. The Alpha of Clan Ashland was a giant of a wolfkin, topping out at over six and a half feet and nearly three hundred pounds. There was not an ounce of fat or wasted flesh on his body; he was intimidating in the truest sense of the word. Dark hair pulled back in a braid that fell to the middle of his back, whispering over his shoulders as he moved, tied with a black leather string. His heavily muscled arms were bare, as if it were summer, and not the depths of February in the Northeast. A black tank covered his torso, so tight it looked painted on, revealing a tightly sculpted chest and stomach, and his long, thick legs were wrapped in skin tight black combat pants, his large feet in equally black boots. The only part of him not black was his skin, a rich golden hue, and his eyes, a brilliant green that flashed as he watched them approach.
Kane felt the instinctive urge to curl his lips and snarl a challenge at the other alpha, his urges as an alpha telling him he must be the biggest bad-ass, nastiest predator in the room, and that Heromindes was a serious threat to his supremacy. Kane stamped down hard on those urges; he was not a young, unruly alpha jockeying for position, and nothing like the foolish Gerald and his ilk. Kane was Heir to Black Pine, and while he may be slightly smaller than Heromindes, he was not weaker. Kane smiled instead at the Clan Leader, unable to hide the glitter of his wilder spirit as his baser nature scoffed at the other alpha, frustrated he could not throw aside rational thought and fight this wolfkin to the death.
Heromindes’ eyes glittered back, and Kane caught a hint of the Clan Leader’s own desire to fight in the vibrant green fire of his gaze. Everyone held still, as Kane walked alone to Heromindes, the rising tension in the room freezing the occupants. Instinct held the lower ranked wolves in place as their alphas decided who was to lead, and who was to follow.
“Greetings, Heromindes, Alpha of Clan Ashland. I am Kane, Heir of Black Pine. I come as requested, by permission of Caius, Clan Leader of Black Pine, to lend assistance in the recovery of your clan members,” Kane relaxed every tensely corded muscle, and gave Heromindes a dip of his head, never once taking his eyes from the larger alpha. He was an Heir, not a Clan Leader, and it was Heromindes’ territory in which he stood. He could afford to be polite, and not step on the other alpha’s toes. “I bring my lieutenant, Alpha Burke, who serves as Black Pine’s Speaker, and lesser alpha Gerald, son of Caius. I hope my team has been helpful while you waited for us.”
“Greetings, Kane, Heir of Black Pine,” Heromindes nodded in return, a vague movement, and he waved to the table, where the remainder of Kane’s team sat on one side, and presumably the higher ranking wolves of Ashland on the other. His voice was a deep rumble of sound, oddly accented, like most of the old wolves Kane had ever met, their speech patterns and inflections forged in times long past. “Have a seat. Your people have been most helpful, and I appreciate Black Pine’s assistance in this matter.” Heromindes relaxed as well, and it was if the lessening tension between the two alphas gave everyone permission to breathe again. Wolves began to talk softly, and Burke took their bags, piling them off to the side by some crates.
Burke sat next to Kane as they took the empty seats beside the Clan Leader, with River next to Burke, and Sophia standing at attention behind the two Black Pine alphas. Kane saw Gerald shuffle in, every inch of his profile shouting anger and embarrassment, and he found a place to sit off to the side, snapping at two Ashland members in wolf-form, who made t
he barest effort to move over so he could sit on a crate. Kane looked to Heromindes, who was watching Gerald as well. He saw the Clan Leader quickly assess and just as swiftly dismiss the son of Caius, and their eyes met for the barest moment as they shared derision for the lesser alpha and his rude behavior. Kane would watch Gerald, and so would the Clan Leader. He would be trouble, and soon.
“Your Sophia has been a dream to work with, Kane. A capable and talented beta. She and your team have narrowed down the location of my missing wolves, here, about two blocks away from where we are currently.” Heromindes pointed a sturdy finger to a spot on a large tablet that was laid out on the table, double tapping the screen to enlarge a map of south Worchester. Two dots blinked red on the map, one for the building in which they sat, the other a multiple story building nearby. Heromindes tapped the red dot for their target, and a picture from a satellite website popped up, showing a five story apartment complex, shut down and vacant, a large For Sale sign out front, ten foot high chain link fences wrapping around the front and sides visible in the picture.
“Good. I was informed that my wolves have successfully scented out the Suarez wolves that are inside. No sign of the traitors?” Kane asked, leaning over the tablet, as Heromindes tapped it again, playing what looked to be live action video feeds of the building, snow falling past the lens on multiple angles.
“Nothing on camera, but we have fresh scent, and movement inside. There are humans in the building.” Kane looked up at Heromindes, one brow raised in question at that piece of news. The Clan Leader nodded, confirming his statement. “We can’t hear the Suarez wolves through the pack links, and I cannot reach them, either. It may be drugs or injury interfering with our abilities. The most I’m able to discern is that they are alive. We can’t narrow down the scents well enough to parse out the traitors, but the scent of humans inside the building is strong. Your scouts report there is no scent of sickness or drugs on the humans, as there is on the majority of wolves inside. I’m of the opinion that the humans are not captives, but working with the traitors.”
