Wolf Song (Wolf Singer Prophecies Book 1)

by Elle Cross

  Before I left, he shuffled his feet and asked me a question. "So I get that you have your own little farm somewhere in the mountains. But you know you're always welcome here, right? And with your dad here? I'm sure my parents would love for you to be here. They would find accommodations. Especially—"

  He bit his lip.

  "Especially since there are a probably a few vacant houses now that the Skolls overran the place?" I didn't tease him any more than that. Gallows humor. "It's all good, don't feel bad. This is the world that we know now. And it's okay to be practical. It doesn't make you any less human."

  He nodded. "I just keep forgetting. It feels so bad."

  I had to remind myself that we all used to be that way. Those of us who had lived in the cities were used to a sense of community and banding together. But now that we were apart, the community that I was loyal to? Was my dad. No one else.

  He was the one who protected us, and I didn't feel any kind of loyalty or kinship otherwise, other than to trade. But that wasn't anything I was going to share. I wasn't going to tell him that I felt like a target here and that blending into the mountain was the best way for me to survive, regardless of the fact that they had my dad's resting body here.

  If I could have dragged him out of town I would have.

  I settled the boxes and covers. And he gave me a wagon. I started to pay him or offer him something, but he held his hand up at me. "You and your dad provided for this community more than you can imagine. A wagon and two machines from before the Before is little payment, I'd think."

  I ducked my head at the generosity. “Thank you. And, thank you for not asking why I need any of this.”

  Kirby just shrugged, his open body language comforting in the midst of all the recent secrecy. “Like I said. It’s the apocalypse. What else are we gonna do?”

  I made it home with little incident. The mayor had seen me with Kirby and tried to insist on me staying there in town, but Ms. Zorah was having none of that. "It's all right child. You got your work. We got ours. And I know your dad be wanting you to do your work and do it well."

  I didn't know what kind of insight she had, but it felt right. Her very words sent tingles down my leg. If I didn't know different, I’d’ve said she was a word mage or maybe even a preacher herself.

  I brought it all in and set it in the dining room. Even though I wanted to get right on it, I knew that there was still a lot to get done before the sun set.

  I re-braided my hair and got moving on my chores. None of the fence line was breached and there were no odd kids or weird lures. I stocked my pantry and got plenty of water and provisions for the next day. Having a fully stocked supply pantry kept my anxiety at bay. I took scissors to the medicine garden and snipped some of the ones that seemed the most familiar to me.

  I figured at the very least I would make a tasty stew for tonight. Maybe I’d give the extras to Ms. Zorah. No matter what Kirby said, no matter that my dad had preached away the Hellfire every now and again, I still felt the need to pay for what I had brought home with me. And that feeling of debt needed to disappear before I’d feel better.

  I set the stew to cooking. I was lucky to have had a lot of vegetables and beans, not to mention enough meat left from my dad's portion of cattle, that I was able to make something that would last a while..

  I washed up and then ate over the stove. The beans weren't quite soft yet when I tested them; they would do fine for later. But the rest of the vegetables were great and the meat was tender and delicious. I made sure to eat slowly and chew so I didn't get a stomach ache for eating too much, too fast.

  I set a kettle on the burner for peppermint tea and headed to the dining table as the sun was setting. It was funny how I could feel the darkness descend like a piece of clothing running against my skin.

  I put my dad's scriptures and his notebook on his usual place setting at the dinner table. Then I opened the Enigma machine. I had cleaned off the caking of dust before I had placed it in my bag to carry here.

  Unboxing the heavy machine was awkward, but I managed. I placed it right at my usual spot as if it were a normal place setting. Forks on the left of the main entree, Enigma machines on the right. The typewriter I set on the left. I would get to it later.

  For now, I wanted to work on the words.

  At the church, when Kirby wasn’t looking, I’d pocketed the reference book containing the Morse code chart, and brought it home with the rest of the stuff. I figured it would be needed in case I missed something and needed it to decrypt this passage.

  This was exactly why I needed to give that food to Ms. Zorah. As penance.

  First, I tried using the Enigma. I hoped that it would be as easy as typing in the letters that I saw on the page, but I ended up with more nonsense. A key. I needed a key to plug into this machine, in order to test out the substitution. Heck for all I knew this Enigma wasn’t part of the equation at all, and I was just being distracted by it.

  I whittled the pencil and got to deciphering. I carefully flipped to the first clean sheet of paper in my parents’ notebook and transcribed the encoded letters there too, along with the dot-dash Morse code language. If I knew the date, I'd have added that, too, the same way my parents did with their meticulous note-taking. Unfortunately, not many people kept an accurate read of time now.

  Now...well, now was the part I was dreading. Because now I needed the key. And that could literally be anything.

  However, my parents weren't meticulous for nothing. I had a pretty good guess what that key might be. If I was wrong, then I was wrong.

  I turned to my parents' favorite passages of scripture, the book of James, and started reading the passage to see what might pop out.

  I was hoping that if I read through this enough, it would help to unlock the cipher.

  It was well into the evening and the moon reigned supreme now. I was no longer making any progress. There were too many combinations to be able to get this randomly, and that was including only using the alphabet in its set order. If there were double letters or a random sequence order? I might never solve it.

  I gave up for now. At this point I had gone through an entire pot of tea, and decided to upgrade to a dandelion blend.

  I went back to the kitchen and froze. There was something there, outside my kitchen door. I could sense it. Standing here in the open wouldn’t help matters, though, so I told myself to move. Maybe the thing would just go away.

  Of course, that was a dumb wish. Why would anything go away just because I moved??

  It would test the doors, the wards. With each test, the wards would get weaker. How often did anyone or anything test these wards, though? No one was supposed to be able to breach the perimeter and yet those four men were able to the other night. And now this thing had.

  Eyes glowed into the window. Yup, there was no blaming that on my imagination.

  I ran silently on bare feet toward the living room. In front of that window was another dark figure whose eyes glowed. Pinpricks rushed over my skin.

  I skittered to a stop at the sight. Though I wanted to figure out what was going on with my dad and why he felt the need to leave so suddenly, only to return with a mystery for me to solve, I rushed upstairs.

  Survive.

  That was the number one rule.

  I made it to the top landing and to my room, where I was in my socks and boots in seconds. The raven from the other night was there, tapping away. I blinked; it was unexpected. Mist left its beak but I didn't wait for it to speak. I didn't think I wanted to hear anything it had to say anyway.

  I grabbed the rifle, though, cursing myself for being lulled into a type of security. Maybe my dad's wards fell out of use after all. Maybe they wore down like all the things. Maybe I didn't know how to maintain the wards as well as I’d thought.

  All these thoughts rushed through my head as I grabbed my pack and strapped it to my back. I wanted to be prepared, even though I didn't intend on leaving yet since this was most defensi
ble place. Until they breached the wards completely, I was still safe.

  Unless they planned on sending down Hellfire.

  That was the thing with these Reapers. They played with the mind. What if there hadn't been people at the doors after all? What if it really was my imagination? Maybe it had all been mental projections they’d caused.

  What if, what if, what if.

  Too many ifs and not enough plan.

  I changed course. Rather than go downstairs to the living room to wait for them to wear down the wards there or break the windows, I made up my mind to go to the attic.

  I tiptoed there and climbed the final staircase up to the roof.

  There was nothing up here except for the expanse of sky overhead and I was thrilled to indulge in the fresh night air a bit. It had been a long time since I'd been able to do this. But that didn't mean I would make it a habit of being out at night. Even with the protection of the roof.

  I tiptoed over to the widow’s watch, where I had spotted that Reaper dressed as a boy. From here, any of the ones who had been at the front door or on the porch would be right below me.

  Maybe I could get a good clean shot of one of them as they roamed the exterior, searching for a way in.

  I tried looking for even a hint of flesh, but all I saw were bits of shadows moving. A scuffle here and there, but nothing that I could pinpoint.

  They were there, though, all right. I wasn't just imagining things. I was able to see them through the blessed glass and I was able to see them with my own eyes. They hadn't bothered to shield themselves from me, and that was just fine. My rifle was blessed to hit my targets, they just needed to cross my scope.

  Getting shot would immediately enrage—not kill—someone with the rave sickness, but it would still drain them. Sickness or no, the person still needed blood and blessed bullets did a great job of removing the blood from a person.

  I hunkered down to the sniper position that I’d practiced for so long. Whoever crossed my scope, I'd get them. And perhaps that meant that they would leave me alone.

  They could always grab reinforcements and come back later, of course. But they would be gone for the night and I'd be able to strengthen the wards in the morning and maybe make the filter between the spells narrower. Maybe word it differently than Dad. Or something.

  Because one thing was sure: something had given these things the ability to get this close when nothing had in literally years.

  I saw the shadows move again and this time I heard voices. I didn't hear the words, but I heard the tones and they were insistent. Maybe that meant that they would leave. Maybe I didn't have to shoot anyone. Maybe I should shoot people anyway.

  I didn't know which would be the better way to handle it.

  I calmed my breathing the way I was taught. I would need to shoot on the exhale. I was a sure shot, and knew that I could hit both these targets at once.

  Then something strange happened.

  It was as if the person below knew he was being targeted, because he paused, stepped into better range, and looked up. He had me square in the eyes.

  I blinked. Like, how did he see me? His arms were even outstretched like they were an offering. He wasn’t the one with the blessed cheekbones, but he was similar enough in the eyes and build to let me know they could be related. Possibly. The one that he was talking to also paused, and he too looked at me directly, over his shoulder, his arms up as if to say, "Don't shoot!"

  That gesture made me feel so human that I lowered my gun. How was this possible?

  From behind me, I heard something soft, like a deliberate step to gain my attention. Dread flooded my veins as I shifted position. What the he—?

  Out of the blanket of night, the one with the beautiful face and the eyes that shone like new pennies stepped into view on the roof walk. His arms were open in a posture of welcome and peace. "Please, ramina, we meant no harm."

  Creed

  ~I think we could have handled this better, but there was no way I was going to allow her to get herself killed up here on the roof.~

  Scorn flooded in my mind in red and black as Remy shouted at me. ~And what, you were okay with us getting blasted apart?~

  ~In a word? Yes.~

  Vin snorted. ~Don't pay attention to him. He would of course choose her over us anyway.~

  ~As would you,~ Remy replied.

  ~Well, of course, that's a given.~

  I tried not to smile. She would not be privy to our thoughts and I didn't want to worry her. Already she was prepared to shoot anything in sight with her gun. I could smell the mixtures of blessed oils and metals housed inside of it.

  They would surely hurt on impact.

  "You have nothing to fear."

  She laughed then. Laughed and laughed. I ought to have been worried about that, but instead I cocked my head at her, letting the sweet melody of her voice linger in my ear, letting it wash over me in a soothing wave.

  Yes, she was our rama for sure. And I needed to get her into the safety of her house before the ones called Reapers snatched her from this roof.

  "Nothing to fear? Some random man who appeared on my roof and could slice me with his cheekbones tells me I have nothing to fear?" She laughed again until tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

  Cheekbones?

  Then she went from laughter to straight blazing fury as she cocked that shotgun toward me, locked and loaded. The flames I saw in her eyes made me so happy. So very happy.

  ~Only you would get turned on by some chica who got her gun on you.~

  Remy’s tone was less than respectful, but before I could address it, there was a virtual slap on the thread. ~That’s my fucking queen you’re talking about, not ‘some chica.’ Boss, can I please kill him?~ Vin actually whined.

  I knew that Remy was playing more than anything, so I ignored their nonsense and focused only on Soleil.

  Her eyes blazed in a fierce beauty. "You move, I shoot. One part at a time."

  I nodded my head toward her in deference. "I do as you wish, ramina. I just wanted to see if you were all right. You seemed…unwell just then."

  "I'm fine, and why do you keep calling me that? That's not my name."

  "It's not a name, it's a title."

  Her forehead crinkled in such an adorable way.

  "It means wolf-queen." She startled at that and I ignored it for her benefit. She wouldn't know her background, of course. "Well, rama means wolf-queen. Ramina would be little wolf-queen." Then I did smile.

  I knew the moment she saw my fangs. It was in the intake of breath and the rapid quickening of her pulse.

  ~Shit, Creed, the fuck you do?~

  I didn't want to disobey her, but I really wanted her inside the house, and I didn’t want her to stumble back and fall off the roof. Others would catch her, sure, but that was a scare we could all live without.

  So I stepped, a blur too fast for her human eyes to follow, no matter how blessed, and I pointed the gun to the sky. She had enough sense not to pull the trigger. It would have attracted all manner of evil.

  This close to her, her scent in my head, her body next to mine, I wanted more. I wanted a taste.

  But that would be without her welcome or trust. So even though I wanted to crush my body next to her supple one, I merely kept hold of her gun and nothing more.

  "You may lecture me. But I would prefer it if you do so in the safety of your house."

  She blinked. This close, her eyes were a swirl of gold-green, a perfect mix of her parents.

  Soon she would have the silver ring of a true rama.

  "How—" she started.

  I could see she was at a loss.

  "Here, let me escort you back." I hoped that since she was in shock, I could just tell her what to do and she would automatically obey.

  Like when I commanded her to sleep.

  I felt guilty. It wasn't my place to command a rama, even a ramina, but I didn't think it would hurt to encourage her to sleep.

  The sa
me was true now. It wouldn't hurt to encourage her to get the hell off this rooftop and into the safety of her extremely secure house.

  "How?" she asked again.

  I pushed her, my hand wanting more of her skin rather than the clothes she wore. Soon.

  "How did I get up here? I flew. How did we get close enough to be here? The preacher did a great job setting up the barriers, but he placed a loophole in order to protect you in case something happened when he left."

  She drew in a gasp. Evidently there was an issue there, one that I would save for later to inquire about.

  "And what was that?" she said.

  "The preacher allowed for the passage of those who would love you and only want to protect you. We were able to pass through." Well, for the most part, but I didn’t need to talk to her about that yet.

  I didn’t doubt the rest of the pack wanted to protect her. But the preacher used his scriptures well: though they wanted to protect her, they didn’t love her, nor did they think they would. At least not now.

  I knew. I had known since I’d first seen her, heard her voice. I had found both a partner and a queen.

  She blinked at me, and I could get lost in those eyes. The sheen of silver had already started to emerge like the secret moon over her green and gold eyes.

  Yes, she was a ramina all right.

  To me, though, she was already my rama.

  Soleil

  He was crazy.

  But he was still trying to get me off the roof. I was supposed to be thinking of my own safety first, dammit, and not letting myself get distracted.

  He would have gotten me too. He was faster than my own reflexes, faster than I could have gotten the gun up to shoot him even at this range.

  If he had wanted to kill me he could have, probably in many inventive ways.

  Damn.

  "Here, let me escort you back."

  I let him lead, but only because it made the most sense. Besides, I wanted to be back in the shelter of the house.

  It didn't escape me that there was a push in his voice, though. I was the daughter of a preacher; I could tell when there was some smoothness in the words, like there was some play.