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Last Chance (DarkWorld: SkinWalker Book 3)

Page 4

by Ayer, T. G.


  The light was on inside, and I pushed open the door, listening for the tinkling of the bell above me. The door shut behind me and my eyes adjusted to the dim storefront. It seemed Tara was already wrapping it up for the day. I headed for the inner door that led to Tara and Gracie’s apartment, my heels tapping the worn wood floor. The counters were bare and so were the glass cases that usually held their display of various weaponry.

  Odd.

  I frowned and stopped at the threshold. I looked over my shoulder at the shelves that held a variety of weapons from around the world. Tara marketed herself as a stockist of antique and exclusive weapons from the past. As such, her shelves overflowed with armaments from Persian daggers to ancient tribal machetes made from animal jawbones. But today, even the sight of those overflowing shelves did nothing to ease the feeling that something was wrong.

  I turned to enter the apartment as the sound of voices filtered to me. I hesitated, but being already halfway into Tara’s dining room, it was too late to leave. Inside, the table was piled high into two distinct stacks of weapons and ammunition. Two women were deep in conversation, their attention focused on one pile of munitions. Tara glanced up as I paused, clearly aware that I’d been there from the moment I’d entered. As a Fae, Tara had strange and impressive powers, ones I wouldn’t want to mess with.

  “Hey. Look what the cat dragged in,” she said with a laugh. I laughed too, figuring she was at a loss as to what to say. That told me one thing: Tara was on edge; something was distracting her.

  I walked to the table and the other woman glanced up, pushing her long black hair away from her face, her gray eyes sparkling. The smile she gave me was well returned. “Hi, Mel,” I said, grinning at the tracker. I’d liked her from the first time we’d met when she’d helped me track Greer.

  I held out a hand to shake hers, but it only felt weird. I was saved any awkwardness when she leaned forward and gave me a quick hug. “Kai. How are you?”

  “I take it you two are acquainted?” said Tara with a smile as she began dropping ammo into a line of waiting boxes.

  Mel nodded, giving me a soft smile. “Yes. I worked with Kai not long ago,” Mel said to Tara, then turned her gaze on me. “I’m really sorry about your sister, Kai. If there’s anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  I nodded. “Thanks. Sometimes I think it was Greer’s time and sometimes I just think it’s all a cruel joke.”

  Mel looked at me, a sad expression in her eyes. “Yeah. I know the feeling.” Then she sighed and turned her attention back to Tara, who had placed the boxes of ammo into a rucksack. Mel helped her pack a few pistols and a rifle into the bag and then grabbed hold of it. “I’ll get going and let you two catch up. Thanks so much, Tara, and don’t stay gone too long, okay?”

  The Fae smiled. “I’ll try. No promises.” She gave Mel a small wave as the tracker swung the bag onto her shoulder and headed for the doorway.

  “Take care, Kai. And don’t forget; let me know if you need any help. I’ll be there in a flash.” We all laughed as Mel disappeared into the front of the store, and I recalled Logan had mentioned the tracker was also a Teleporter and quite a powerful one at that.

  I tuned my attention back to Tara. “So what was she talking about? Are you going somewhere?” I knew my reaction was a little harsher than I’d intended, but after Greer’s death, I was still a little sensitive. Guess I really had abandonment issues. Tara leaving without telling me would hurt more than I was willing to admit.”

  “I’m sorry, Kai. You were going through so much with the funeral I didn’t want to dump it all on you.”

  “I could have dealt with it, you know. I am a big girl.” I swallowed the hurt, careful not to let her see it.

  “I know, but I didn’t want you to. It’s not such a big deal anyway. I have to go home. The Fae Court has demanded my presence. I think they’ve gotten fed up with having an absent queen.”

  “But I thought Gracie was back in the Faelands already.” My brow furrowed with confusion and my gut was telling me something was wrong.

  “Well, there’s been a development. Mother returned thinking she could perform her duties, but the court council believed she was past the age to rule. They’ve insisted the next in line to the throne claim it now or lose it forever.”

  The revelation hit me like a wave of arctic water. “What? But can they force you to do this?”

  She looked solemn as she responded. “Yes, they can. You know what councils are like. They can change their minds in the blink of an eye. Or take a decade to make one decision.” Tara sighed, and I knew how she felt. The idea of the council had always felt unnecessary, but I’d understood the reasons they were installed in the first place. The danger of having one’s peoples at the mercy of a single despotic ruler was a danger most species preferred to avoid. Hence the installation of councils. Our own Walker council often gave my father a difficult time, and usually when the High Council called, it sent all paranormals into a panic.

  “So when do you leave?” I asked, trying to behave like I wasn’t about to lose it.

  “Probably as soon as you leave.” Tara softened her words with a small smile. “Sorry. It is sudden. I knew you’d come so I didn’t ring to tell you.”

  “I would have come sooner if you told me,” I offered, although I knew that would have been easier said than done with everything that had been going on.

  “And how would I have been able to spend time with you while delivering orders and redirecting the rest?” asked Tara with one hand on her hip, reminding me of her mother.

  I stared, too distracted by Tara’s plans to be offended by her not being able to spend time with me. “You’re canceling orders?”

  “Of course I am. I have no choice. People like you come to me to get a job done. If I’m not around to fulfill orders, then I have to redirect them. As much as it pains me to pass work on, this is the only way I could keep my loyal customers satisfied while I’m gone. In case I return, I want them to be happy with me.”

  “In case you return?” I asked, beginning to feel like a parrot. When I saw the shadows in her expression, my stomach sank. “So you think there’s a chance…?”

  Tara nodded, her amber eyes downcast. “I need to be ready for every possibility. I hope I can come back, but I can’t make any promises.” Tara waved me into the kitchen as she spoke, and I followed her in silence, still absorbing the enormity of her revelation.

  I sat and swallowed the lump in my throat. While I simmered in my thoughts, Tara busied herself making coffee and slicing cheesecake. Just watching her activity made me want to cry. What a wuss I was.

  Glass tapped against Formica as Tara set down mugs and plates. She sighed as she pulled her chair forward. I’m so sorry to do this to you now.”

  I shook my head. “No. Please don’t feel bad. Our lives are just as important as our friendships.” I searched her face as I asked, “Do you need me to come with you? Or help you in any way?”

  A smile curved softly at the edges of Tara’s mouth. “No. And thank you for offering.” She sipped her coffee and stabbed a fork into the pale cream of the cheesecake. “As much as I would love company, unfortunately I need to deal with this shit myself.”

  I chuckled as I reached for my mug. “Yeah. We all have our own shit to deal with.”

  The next few minutes were spent just talking about nothing and everything. To be truthful, I wanted to prolong our time together, but I knew we were both pressed for time. Tara had to leave, and I had to prepare for my trip to Wrythiin.

  “So how do I contact you if I need to?” I asked, a little afraid of the answer.

  And when she shook her head, I had the sinking feeling this was a good-bye that could likely be final.

  And one that I did not like in the least.

  ***

  Chapter 5

  I left Tara’s with my weapons and ammunition. And with a heavy heart. I hoped she’d be back soon because I was so damn tired
of losing people.

  I made a concerted effort to shrug off the negativity that sought to weigh me down and moved into Walker mode to race all the way home. The wind in my hair did a little to relieve my sadness. But only until I got home.

  Again, I entered the apartment through the front door, something that was becoming far more common these days. I hardly ever used the old fire escape anymore. Maybe it was the fact that last time I’d used it to enter my apartment, I’d been caught off guard and then abducted.

  Not something I wanted to ever repeat.

  I’d barely made it inside before Grams came hurrying to me, placing an arm on my elbow and turning me around to face the door again.

  “What? What’s going on?” I squawked, twisting my head to send Grams a questioning glare.

  “The Walker Council has requested our presence at Lake’s property. And we leave now. Get rid of your bags and let’s go.”

  “Okay,” I said as I slipped the bag of weapons off my shoulder and dropped it just inside the front door. Then I allowed Grams to pull me outside and lock up. As we hurried down the stairs, I asked, “So what’s the big hurry?”

  Grams’ jaw tightened and she gave her head a short shake. “All I got from the council was a summons. Every Odel who is alpha would have received one.”

  “I didn’t,” I said without checking my phone. Now I wondered what I’d see if I did. Grams raised eyebrow seemed to wonder the same thing.

  We rushed down the stairs to the old boiler room beneath the apartment building. Gram went straight to her bike, grabbing the helmets and throwing one at me. In one smooth move, she shoved the helmet on her head and swung a leg onto the bike. I mimicked her actions and we were soon out on the road, heading toward the cougar colony.

  My stomach tilted as my mind returned to memories of kisses that shouldn’t have felt so good. I shook them off. They were the leftover emotions of first love. Hardly anything to worry about.

  I felt a little off balance. This whole evening wasn’t going at all as planned. First finding out I might have company in the status of Niamh, which wasn’t too bad, then finding out my best friend was flying off to Faeland and may not return for a long while, which pretty much sucked. And now a summons to the Walker council that had all the signs of being bad, bad news for everyone.

  As it turned out, it wasn’t bad news for all alphas. Just a few of us.

  Grams skidded to a stop in front of Justin’s wraparound porch, uncaring that she littered the steps with stones from the drive. We got off and hurried up the stairs, tossing our helmets onto the chair beside the doorway. Justin’s house had the style of a dude ranch, all wood and glass with a huge wraparound veranda. To be honest, I kinda loved his house.

  We swept inside without knocking and headed straight to the meeting room that sat beside Justin’s study. All alphas ensured they had the facilities to accommodate a Walker Council meeting. Even my father’s house had a similar setup: a large meeting room with a table long enough to seat the twelve councilmen as well as sufficient seating along the walls of the room to accommodate all the alphas of the American colonies.

  I sighed as we approached the double doors to the meeting room. “Be happy this meeting wasn’t in L.A. or New York for that matter,” said Grams in response.

  “Yeah,” I replied with a wry smile. “Let’s hope we can get this wrapped up as soon as possible.”

  Grams cracked the door open and we slipped inside. A few heads turned, but most of the people within the room paid us little attention. A discussion was in progress, a heated one, hands shaking and heads moving. The alphas sat back, seated with their family members. As a pack, the alphas could tear every member of the council to pieces, but to do that for whatever reason would spell anarchy. The rise and fall of negative energies in the room told me this wasn’t a good place for the alphas right now.

  At the far end of the room, Justin looked up, meeting my eyes with an encouraging nod. He sat alone, his sister Sonia having been his only living relative. For Justin, his line ended with him, unless he married and produced a few little cougar alphas. I nodded back and walked along one edge of the room, heading straight for the two seats beside my father and Iain. Grams and I sat quietly, giving Dad inquiring glances.

  Grams leaned over my lap and whispered to Dad, “What’s going on? I was heading out on a job.” She wasn’t holding back her annoyance.

  But Dad just shrugged. “They’ve been deep in discussion for the last half hour. Looks like they themselves have a problem with whatever this announcement is.” His voice rippled with annoyance, probably at being in the dark. I knew how he felt.

  “So you both have no idea?” I asked him, noticing Iain face us from where he sat on the other side of Dad.

  Both Iain and Dad shook their heads. Iain leaned forward. “All we know is it’s some sort of new codex to the alpha laws.”

  I frowned. “Can they do something like this so suddenly?”

  “No. Whatever rule they intend to pass will take time to take effect. So everyone has time to air their disagreements.”

  I nodded and sat back. Having been to a few of these meetings before, I was used to the politics, but it wasn’t often the entire alpha families were called to attendance. Around me, I recognized the faces of alphas, cougar, lynx, panther, and more. Alphas and all members of their families that had reached the Change.

  We sat and waited a while longer before a hush fell over the members seated at the table. A gavel smashed against a block somewhere at the head of the table and the room fell to silence. “Attention, please. I call this meeting to order.” It was purely as a matter of routine that he spoke. Everyone was already waiting with bated breath, having been seated here too long already. I could smell the tension in the air clearly enough even without the aid of my panther senses.

  “We’ve called this meeting with the intention of adding an addendum to the Codex of Rules. We are aware this new rule will not sit very well with many alphas, and we are instilling a three-year timeframe in which each alpha family can table their disagreement and/or propose an amendment to the new ruling.”

  The speaker certainly had little personality, and I almost stopped paying attention to him as he droned on.

  Almost.

  “Now we come to the new ruling. I hand you over to the Walker Council Leader Joseph Marsden to speak to you on this.” He waved his hand at Marsden, who got to his feet to address the gathering, his hands folded behind his back. The man was ancient and seemed to have been ancient for decades.

  Years ago, I’d wondered when he’d keel over and die. As I watched him look down at his notes, his bald head shining in the soft light of Justin’s chandelier, I felt a spike of unease. I’d never liked this idea of a non-alpha council ruling over all the alphas. To me, it defeated the purposed of having alpha families, but I knew too that it was politics that had brought about the Walker Council. In recent years, their power had increased, new rulings included in the codex that placed more constraints on the alphas.

  I’d heard Dad and Iain argue over it, often threatening to leave and form an independent clan not affiliated to the Walker council. But that in itself had seemed treasonous at the time. Not so much now when I faced their power directly.

  Finally, Marsden cleared his throat and the low murmur of voices hovering in the room faded to silence. “We have been in discussion these past months and have come to agreement that the new ruling we are considering is applicable and appropriate given the situation. I apologize to you for having to wait today. Although most of the council are in agreement, there are some that have expressed their concern and have registered their disapproval. As will be your right, you are free to do so as well in the coming years.”

  He stopped speaking and took a moment to survey the gathered alphas, his gaze panning the room. I studied his eyes, once blue but now grey with age, his skin where it sagged beneath his eyes and under his neck, giving the impression of a bewildered turkey. Then he spo
ke and what he looked like was the last thing on my mind.

  “Our concern is the dilution of the Walker bloodline, more specific the dilution of the alpha bloodline.”

  My heart stilled in my chest and I didn’t dare look at Dad. I knew what they meant, and it was bullshit. Why should the council even care? Everyone knew the Walker gene was always dominant.

  Although nobody spoke, there was now new tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. Despite the rising pressure, Marsden continued unperturbed. “The new ruling is: alphas who have more than fifty percent non-Walker blood will no longer have a legal claim to alpha-hood.”

  “And who are you to say that?” asked one of the outlying jaguar alphas. “Being an alpha is a natural trait; it is either there or not. Many of the families you see here have a number of descendants that don’t qualify as alpha with your new ruling. I’m not sure what it is you are trying to do here.” The jaguar alpha who spoke had a pure, untainted bloodline, so I admired him for standing up and posing the question.

  It was clear enough to everyone present that a ruling like this could imply there was more that the Walker Council was keeping up their sleeves. It brought suspicion on their intentions, and in this case, I thought it was probably a good thing. If alphas with watered-down bloodlines had to go, then what about alphas who are Pariah or alphas who are crippled? Pariahs never took the roles of leaders in their clans, but they did still retain their alpha status. On the other hand alphas who were crippled, maimed or born disfigured still became alpha if it was their blood right.

  This new ruling could be expanded to change that. And that was where the danger lay.

  Marsden waited patiently as the noise subsided. “I understand your concern, but this is a serious issue that you must take the time to consider. We know the Walker gene is stronger. We know that a pairing with a human or another species still produces offspring with a strong alpha gene. But what we are concerned with is the next generation. How many second-generation alphas do we have seated here that have only one grandparent that is Walker. They are technically only twenty-five percent Walker, and what right do mixed-bloods have to control a colony, to oversee other full-blooded Walkers, to control their lives?”

 

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