by SJ Himes
“I ordered you to hold off until we identified the traitors, Kane.” Caius was displeased, no getting around it. Kane tried to look contrite, and hoped the fuzzy signal was enough to mask his grimace. He would never admit that he’d had no intention of waiting once he got here and the Suarez wolves were located—rescue first, plan retribution later.
“Caius, we have two human prisoners. We’ll get something out of them,” he said, exasperated. He flinched, hoping Caius didn’t catch the lapse in decorum. It was time to get this conversation away from Caius’ favorite pastime of digging at Kane and on to taking care of the survivors. “Shaman River has a request he wants me to pass on to you.”
Caius growled, but sat back in his leather chair. A shaman usually didn’t request permission to do anything, unless it had to do with territory lines. And an alpha was wise to listen, no matter the status of the shaman, or their home clan.
“What is Shaman River doing in Ashland territory?” Caius asked brusquely.
“I’m not one to question the wisdom of a shaman, Sir, or his actions,” Kane answered slowly, “but having River here made the difference in saving the Suarez wolves.”
Shamans had the autonomy to go where they pleased, and answered only to Clan Leaders in everyday, non-magical and non-spiritual matters. When it came to their craft and their duties as Shamans, they answered only to the Great Mother, and the Goddess brokered no interference in her will. Kane was agnostic, as were most wolves, but tradition held that no one, not even Clan Leaders, forbade a shaman from executing his duties, no matter where they took him.
Caius glared, his jaw set. A deep breath, audible over the tiny speakers, came to Kane, and he held still, waiting. Caius waved a hand, signaling Kane to speak.
“The survivors need specialized care, Sir. More care than Ashland’s shamans are trained to handle, or have the skill to heal. Shaman River is requesting that he be allowed to bring the Suarez wolves into our territory and take them to his home clan, Red Fern. He’ll be staying with them, as their primary healer.” Kane spoke clearly, enunciating each word so he didn’t have to repeat any. This was tricky, the potential for politicking getting in the way of helping the Suarez wolves.
“They cannot be treated there, under his care?” Caius demanded, sounding impatient.
“Heromindes doesn’t want the family pack left here in Worcester, Sir. He’s afraid a Challenge will be made to the youngest adult, one of the survivors, an untested alpha. The Suarez wolves hold southern Worcester for Heromindes, and it’s a lot of territory, a temptation to any alpha in the area not already established. One of the wolves we rescued is an untried alpha, barely out of adulthood. He is certain to be killed in a Challenge if he isn’t removed from the area, and Heromindes wants the remaining family members to stay together. Heromindes doesn’t want to see the family suffer any more losses.”
“He has you calling him by name now, does he?” Caius growled, leaning forward, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “Remember not to get to friendly with him, Kane. He has an Heir of his own, Heromindes has no need for mine.”
“Yes, Sir.” He felt it prudent not to say anything else. Every word out of his mouth lately just served to piss off his Clan Leader. In fact, Heromindes hadn’t given Kane permission to call him by name—that was just Kane forgetting, too stressed out from his earlier slipup with the Voice to mind his tongue. Heromindes was doing all his talking through Shaman River or Burke, giving Kane a wide berth. He may not be able to apologize to Heromindes if he couldn’t get near the other alpha.
They sat in silence for a short time, Caius not speaking to Kane, though thankfully not ending the video call. He needed an answer to the Suarez wolves’ problem, and soon. He wouldn’t put it past Shaman River to just head north, Suarez wolves in tow, and then explain the situation to their Clan Leader after the fact, if at all. River was much like his mentor, Shaman Gray Shadow, stubborn and devoted to a fault, agreeing to an alpha’s whims only when it suited him.
“What of my son?” Caius asked suddenly, out of the blue, making Kane come back abruptly from his musing. He’d completely forgotten about the Alpha’s aimless and surly son in the mayhem after the raid. He raised his eyes from the screen, quickly looking over the small crowd in front of the building. He spotted Gerald hounding Sophia as she waited for him to finish the video call at the curb, breath puffing out in white plumes in the cold night air. She was very admirably disregarding the lout.
“He did very well guarding the gear back at the base during the raid, Sir. No complaints from the Ashland pack, at the moment,” Kane offered, trying to sound as if he wasn’t pissed off that Caius decided to send Gerald along on a mission of such importance, no experience whatsoever and not a fan of any of Kane’s wolves, or of Kane himself.
“You had him babysitting the gear?” Caius snorted, and Kane breathed easier, hearing the mirth in his Alpha’s voice. “He didn’t wander off, poke his nose where it shouldn’t be?”
“Not that I am aware, Sir. Other than a mild dustup with my beta, Sophia, Gerald has kept to himself.”
“Still bothering that same beta? He’ll learn when she breaks a few bones.” Thankfully, Caius didn’t sound upset. That was one thing unchanged about Caius—he did not tolerate his wolves harassing the females of the Clans. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll behave.”
Kane didn’t respond, knowing that last bit was rhetorical enough that he didn’t need to. In his opinion, Gerald had plenty of time to learn the hands-off rule in the last two hundred years. He just didn’t care. Caius sighed, and Kane waited, trying to be patient.
“Very well. Shaman River may take the Suarez wolves into my territory. Red Fern still holds the gathering lands, under the rule of the White Wolf. He may take them there.”
“Thank you, Sir…” Kane snapped his mouth shut when Caius spoke again.
“I’m not done.” Caius waited a second, then continued. “None of us are sure why the Suarez wolves were taken, and these seven left behind. It’s possible their captors were in the process of moving them and were intending to come back for them. They may know who their abductors were as well. That means they are still in danger.”
“I agree, Sir.”
“Good. You’ll be handling their protection.”
Wait. What?
“Sir?”
“The gathering is in six months, Kane. It’ll be held in Baxter State Park again this year. With the recent abductions and killings, we need advanced security. I will not have a repeat of the gathering fifteen years ago, do you hear me? This gathering needs to happen flawlessly, no incidents. I was planning on sending you ahead anyway to secure the park, I’m just moving up my timetable.”
“Sir…” The gathering was in six months. He wanted Kane out of the way in the deep woods for six months while unknown enemies were hunting their people and abusing cubs?
“No arguments, Kane. Protect the Suarez wolves, and secure the state park for this summer’s gathering.” Caius was unmoving, and Kane bit back his retort, angry at being regulated to park ranger and nursemaid. He had traitors and killers to hunt. “Have Heromindes contact me in regards to the prisoners. I want them here in Augusta. I will learn what there is to know of the traitors myself.”
“Yes, Sir.” He refused to acknowledge that he growled, would in fact deny it if asked.
“You should have adequate bodies for the job, with your strike team with you. Take them north as well. I’ll have whatever supplies Red Fern requires sent north once you get there. Send my betas the information tomorrow, they’ll sort you out.” Caius leaned forward, one hand out, as if to end the call. He paused, and Kane groaned at the malicious grin lighting up his Clan Leader’s face. “Oh, and take Gerald with you.”
“Yes, Sir.” Fuck.
The video feed dropped, the call ended. Kane slapped the laptop shut, growling under his breath. He eyed Sophi
a through the window, wondering where Burke was and what he’d have to say. He wanted to call his lieutenant, but figured he was with Ashland’s alpha, and restrained himself.
He opened the door, and got out, the February air dry and biting. The snow had stopped falling, and it crunched under his feet as he jumped to the curb.
“Sir?” Sophia looked calm, but the dull wind was sure to be hiding the smell of her annoyance, Gerald standing far too close to her back for Kane’s liking. She was his beta. Not Gerald’s. His.
Kane growled, letting out his frustration into the night air, and Gerald jumped, glowering, but backing away from Sophia. She grinned, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
“Beta Sophia, please alert my team that we will be leaving as soon as Shaman River has situated the Suarez wolves for transport. Make sure we have everything, and everyone.” She nodded, and at his signal, took off down the sidewalk, surefooted on the snow and ice. Kane turned to Gerald, stopping the lesser alpha as he made to follow. Kane couldn’t tell if he was stubborn or stupid.
“Your father has assigned you to my team, Gerald.” Not precisely true, but close enough. Kane was Heir, and Gerald was a lesser alpha. Dominance and rank won out against birth status every time. Gerald would obey, or pay for his disobedience. “I expect we’ll be getting along perfectly, won’t we, Gerald?”
The lesser alpha’s face went from horny, to smug, to mildly fearful in a handful of seconds. Kane let him worry, and took off after his beta at a sedate walk, offering his back to Gerald. He heard Gerald snarl quietly at the implied insult, but he followed quietly enough at Kane’s heels.
SHAMAN RIVER wasn’t sleeping, but he appeared to be, eyes closed, arms relaxed, with the young female Suarez wolf huddled in his lap in the rear of the SUV. The boy was sleeping as well, tucked to River’s side, occasionally tensing and shaking as he dreamt. Just the three of them crowded on the bench seat at the very back of the vehicle, and Burke couldn’t resist turning around in his seat every few minutes, eyes running over them, reassuring himself that they were still sleeping undisturbed.
*You’ll give yourself a crick in the neck if you keep looking over your shoulder like that. They’re fine Burke, stop it!* Sophia was lying on the center seat, stretched out, boots off, jacket bundled under her head as a pillow. She was short enough that her toes only just reached the edge of the seat, and her black clothes blended in with the shadows as Kane drove them north. New Hampshire was about to give way to Maine, and the gathering grounds at Baxter State Park should be reached a few hours after dawn.
*I can’t help it. I…* Burke struggled to find the words, his heart sore, thoughts fragmented. Who could hurt children like that? How could any wolf, no matter their allegiance, hurt cubs to such a degree, or let humans use them so? It went against every instinct their kind had, their species were fanatically devoted to the wellbeing of their young, no matter their parentage. Very young cubs were immune to feuds and Challenges and were never held responsible for the transgressions of their parents. In ancient times, battles used to be halted by the arrival of children on the fields, as mothers and wives brought their young, hoping to stop the bloodshed long enough for the wounded and dying to be removed and tended to. Cubs had even served as guarantees of peace at treaty signings and diplomatic meetings, as no wolf with honor would risk a cub’s safety by resorting to violence.
It was Law—cubs were off limits. All cubs were untouchable and protected by the Law until they reached adulthood at seventeen years, and even then, they were so very young that wolfkin were often coddled and protected until their late twenties and early thirties. Their species was very long lived, and the older wolves never considered a younger truly grown until about fifty or so summers.
Burke was forty-nine, five years older than Kane, who was very young to be a Clan Heir. There were many elder wolves who saw Kane and Burke as cubs yet, and if not for their rank and unique strengths as alphas, they would be hard-pressed to receive any respect.
He realized he was still staring at Sophia, her brown eyes flashing obsidian and green as they reflected the light from oncoming traffic on the other side of the highway divide. Burke huffed a soft apology for staring, and turned around, pulling his mind back, so that the shining lights he saw only in his head, the lights that were the minds of the other wolves in the SUV, dimmed and subtle.
Kane was quiet, his big hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, fingers loose, shoulders relaxed. Burke ran his eyes over his alpha and leaned back into the corner made by his seat and the door. He tried to relax, to forget the horrors he’d witnessed in Worcester. Watching Kane was peaceful, relaxing, the connection between them intimate and true, even though they stopped being lovers not long after that disastrous gathering almost fifteen years before.
Sometimes he missed the nights they’d spent tangled in the bed sheets, hot, sweaty, and exhausted, both freshly fucked and aching from marathon sex sessions. Burke grinned, remembering, and he bit his lip to keep from chuckling at one particular image that crowded his thoughts, of Kane getting caught in the sheets, tripping, and hitting the floor one morning after they’d been rudely awakened. His lover had smacked the floor so hard, he’d thrown himself into the Change. Burke had crowed with laughter, tears running down his cheeks, at the sight of the intimidating Clan Heir in his great black wolf-form, thoroughly entangled in white cotton sheets, completely confused and embarrassed.
*What has put that smile on your face?* Kane’s thoughts whispered through the empty space between them, slipping past Burke’s mental walls. Kane was the one wolf Burke’s mind let in automatically, a habit that was the result of so many years living and working side by side.
*Thinking of that morning you fell out of bed and ended up on all fours instead of two.* Burke sent Kane a mental image of that morning, and he felt his friend’s fresh exasperation and grudging mental laughter.
*As your Alpha, I order you to forget that morning and erase those images from your mind,* Kane told him, and Burke sent him a mental snort, refusing to countenance the very thought of forgetting that morning. He felt Kane’s answering laugh, a warm echo down the line between their minds.
*Kane?* Burke asked quietly, eyes shut, moments from sleep as the smooth motion of the SUV lulled him into a relaxed state. The memory of them together was sweet, and it coaxed out a question from the recesses of his mind. A thought he’d never meant to ask, as the consequences of getting an answer could be raw and painful, for the both of them.
*Yes, Burke?*
* Why did we stop sleeping together? I wasn’t that upset, it just ended so abruptly.*
He waited for several minutes, sleep held off, afraid he’d asked the wrong thing at an even more horrible time. When Kane spoke to him, Burke relaxed, thankful his best friend didn’t sound too upset.
* I… I don’t know. I felt… different, after that day. As if… as if I wasn’t myself anymore. Like I was waiting, on the edge of a cliff. Knowing I was about to fall, but not knowing when. I still feel like that, actually. I haven’t felt the urge for another wolf’s touch since that horrible day.*
* Was it so very bad? Losing Gray Shadow and Luca, and the others? Do you think…* Burke had a suspicion of what changed in his friend, his former lover, an instinct so faint and unclear that he struggled to make it coherent enough to say to Kane. Old legends crowded his mind, and he was too tired to speculate.
*Do I think what?*
*Never mind. I’m tired.* His courage was about to desert him, as his body started to go limp, his mind languid and slow.
*Not getting out of it. Finish that thought Burke.* Kane told him, his thoughts full of curiosity.
He was about to, but sleep came up on him fast, and Burke succumbed, snoring softly.
Burke slipped away, and he dreamed of two wolves running in the snow, under a full and bright moon. One was black as the deepest shadows of the night, and th
e other, every variation of gray in spectacular patterns. The black shadow and the gray wraith raced together over the frozen reaches of his dream, and Burke wondered in a foggy haze who the gray wolf was, having never dreamed of him before. He was a stranger to Burke, but he was also heartbreakingly familiar.
The gray wolf looked like someone long-dead and dearly missed.
NIGHT CAME on quickly as they drove. The window was cracked an inch or so and let in the cold air as the truck headed south, the border to the States just ahead. Ghost dozed, head on his paws, listening to the sounds outside the vehicle, and to the soft thump of Cat’s heart as she slept, her head resting on Glen’s shoulder.
The sweet, cool air rushing in through the window filled his nose, and he breathed deep, lungs full of clean air and rapidly changing scents. Exhaust, leather, the humans in the front seat, it all mixed with the smells coming in the window, the harsh odor of cold metal, the chemicals used on the roads that melted the ice and snow, and the vague hints of many humans, the merest hints of warm bodies traveling fast.
The truck was moving at a good clip, its suspension rocking softly, and Ghost let it relax him. They were being hunted for certain, by predators he couldn’t understand, and Ghost let the worry go. No human could attack at these speeds, not like Ghost could, racing alongside a deer before he leapt for its throat or hamstrings. Humans were soft, and hated discomfort, even the toughest of them, and Ghost felt safe resting. He slept on and off until the truck began to slow, and he yawned, flashing his white fangs as he stretched out, claws scratching the seat.
“Border’s just up ahead. Wake up, Cat,” Glen nudged his mate, and Ghost peered over the seat, looking out the windshield. Cat grumbled but sat up, slowly dragging her mind awake as she rubbed her eyes.
