Chapter Twenty-One
“Explain to me then why that puma didn’t rip me into pieces,” Allix challenged him without a hint of self-doubt. “Why the other two didn’t make a move on me. Explain to me,” she continued, giving his chest a quick, hard shove, “why you called them by name, gave them distinct and complex orders, and they obeyed you.”
And he’d just stepped in shit up to his knees, he realized. He had to move carefully now otherwise it wouldn’t take long before he was up to his neck. “I was talking to Reed, who happens to be a friend of mine. He trains big cats for the big screen.”
“Bullshit.” She shoved him again, double-handed this time. “You want me to keep the big secret, Dax? I can do that. I can keep the secret everyone but me seems to know. But stop with the fucking lies. I just want my friend back, my town back, my life to go back to how it was before you crawled into it!”
He sighed. “There is no going back, Allix. Not for any of us.”
“Just tell me for God’s sake.” Some of the rage ebbed away and left anguish in its place.
“All right. I apologize for lying to you, but this...this can’t go public, Allix. Not unless you want to see Baylee’s head mounted on a wall by a trophy hunter and my family slaughtered into extinction.”
She folded her arms across her chest and waited patiently.
He told her, bit by bit, of what had happened over the last weeks. Meeting Baylee, leaving Baylee, Baylee’s transformation and her time in the forest alone. He could see Allix struggling to believe, despite what she already knew, and tried to keep the shock value down so he didn’t spook her.
Her body language altered dramatically when he explained about the valley, his father, and the fight that had come so close to ending Baylee’s life. She switched on the offensive button; he could see her itching for a fight.
“You walked her straight into a torture chamber, you jackass.”
“Near enough,” he admitted. It would forever burn a hole in his gut that he’d done so. “I won’t apologize for doing what I thought was best for her, just as I can’t ask forgiveness when I can’t forgive myself.”
She weighed him up then, curiosity flickering. “Does Baylee know you’re punishing yourself over it?”
“Baylee has enough to concentrate on without my problems added on top. I’ll deal with my own failures in my own time,” he snapped when Allix opened her mouth. “She’s more important. So, who told you the truth,” he asked, wanting to steer the conversation away from him and his mistakes, “or at least a semblance of the truth?”
Allix pursed her lips. “No one as such. There were just...indications. Brenna’s been acting weird, having more of those visions she has, with greater ramifications. They’ve left her sobbing, screaming. Kind of makes sense now, if she’s been able to see what Baylee’s had to face, with no way of helping her. Bren stopped coming out here, to the bar. Holed herself up in Baylee’s apartment.
“Then this lot arrived in town like a swarm of locust, and Bren came out of her funk. I put two and two together, especially when a couple of those strangers bear a remarkable resemblance to you. Everything comes back to you,” she said with an angry sigh. “I came out here the night they arrived, didn’t make it much past the boundary line; piles of clothing hidden in the bushes and human footprints changing into pawprints and hoofprints...I thought I was going crazy.”
“You saw that and still came back a second time?” Daxon blinked.
“I came looking for you. I asked around town; the ones who remembered you couldn’t recall seeing you, and the others thought I was drunk.” She started to pace in agitation. “I figured if you weren’t in town, you were out here, and I wasn’t going to stop until I’d hunted you down.”
Tenacious, fearless, and committed. Daxon wondered if he could get her on board the war train; she’d make one hell of a general if she had some sort of supernatural essence to back up her mortality. “Well, you know the truth now. What’s your next step?”
“I don’t know. Hadn’t given it much thought beyond killing you and bringing Baylee home.” She tapped her fingers on her thigh and shot him a glare. “You’re sure she’s one of you? That she can...” She waggled her fingers in the air. “Change?”
“There’s no doubt.”
“Well, in that case, I guess I better meet the in-laws. Lead the way,” she said airily, and stopped her pacing when he just stared at her. “I’m part of this now, Daxon. You’re bringing death and destruction to a place I love, to the people I love. I’ll be damned if I stand by and watch it happen; Montana girls get their hands dirty.”
“Don’t I know it.” He shrugged, accepting defeat. She knew the big secret now, it made no difference whether he brought her into camp or kept her out. She would probably be safer...well, it didn’t matter either way. He could say she’d be safer away from the clan, but fate could turn around and make a liar of him. “Right this way.”
They started walking. Not two minutes along the path, Allix said, “So how bad do you think this war will be? On a scale of one to ten, with one being equal to a heated chess game and ten being the eradication of Hangman’s Haunt.”
Dax chuckled softly. “Heated chess game? Do things get that exciting around here?”
“Not usually, no.”
“Good to know. Going by your scale, and the intel I’ve been given, we could be looking at a ten.” That galled him, the thought of so much loss of life—human and shifter. “I’m putting a team together to put measures in place, try and keep the majority of the fighting away from town. But as with any best intentions, there’s always the capacity to fail.”
She hummed under her breath. “Evacuate the town.”
“What?”
“Evacuate the town,” she repeated. She kept up with his long strides easily, her legs an equal match for his. “Any non-essential bodies can be taken out of the equation.”
“You figure out a way to evacuate this town and I’ll kiss you.” He meant it. Already the war weighed heavy on him, and only the threat of it hung over his head. The first shots hadn’t been fired yet, and he knew when they did, he’d have to take the strain of leadership and bear it with honor. “Things will come you can’t comprehend, Allix. Are you prepared for that?”
“Such as?”
“Vampires,” he muttered disgustedly. “Trolls, ogres, werewolves. Creatures of darkness that live on pain and blood and terror.”
“Are you shitting me?”
He chuckled, despite of the dire nature of the conversation. “No shitting.”
“Fucking A.”
Daxon heard laughter, the sound of his people living in their element, and knew he’d fight to the last breath to keep that sound alive. He needed to bring Baylee out here when she’d recovered enough to make the journey; she needed to see what her sacrifice had brought to life.
“They’ll be suspicious of you,” he warned Allix. “They’ve had a rough time of it, and the move here has shaken some foundations. If they go rough on you, don’t show them weakness but try not to damage them any more than they already are.”
She simply shrugged, looking as though the prospect of rough treatment didn’t bother her in the slightest. “I’m a bitch, Daxon. I can handle myself quite easily.”
Daxon inclined his head slightly and strode into the clearing, into the middle of a circle of more than twenty of his people. Laughter stopped, all eyes fell on him and on his blonde companion. One by one, men and women alike, dropped to one knee with their fist over their heart and heads bowed.
The sign of respect warmed him from deep inside. “My friends, rise. You honor me, one and all, with your trust and honor.” He waited until they resumed their former positions and smiled at them. “I’m not here to interrupt your time together—with war coming, this time is precious.”
Several heads nodded in grave agreement.
“Caleb?” he called out, scanning the trees.
“He’s gone for a run,” Re
ed told him from his spot across the clearing. The old man had made himself a comfortable nest on the ground just inside the barrier of the clearing. “Said he wouldn’t be long but the boy looked as though he needed to clear his head.”
Goddamn it, Dax thought, he didn’t have time to be waiting around. “I need to head back. Tell Caleb I want to see him as soon as he returns.”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.” Daxon cast his gaze around the forest dwellers. “Does anyone require anything from town? If anyone is unhappy about travelling into the Haunt, let me or Caleb or Reed know and we’ll sort out whatever you need.”
“What’s she doing here?” Someone piped up, lost in the crowd.
Daxon searched out the voice. There was an undertone of revulsion in it; he wouldn’t tolerate it. This clan would not follow his father’s code of conduct. “This is Allix, friend of Baylee. She is welcome here, and will be made to feel as such. She offers help and support in these dark times.”
“Don’t need the help of humans,” another voice chimed in.
Daxon clenched his jaw tight, winced when pain pulsed through his head. He let Vex out to stretch his legs and the growl that vibrated in his throat silenced everyone. “Anyone unhappy with Allix being here can make their way back to Shax. We need every hand we can get, every solid body and keen mind. Blondie here might just save your life in battle; did you think of that? No, I bet you didn’t.”
“Solid body, keen mind, none of that will help a human against what is coming. They need to pack their shit and run as fast as their measly two legs can carry them, far away from here, before Shax rains hell down upon us all.”
Daxon glanced at Allix, who lifted an eyebrow. “Stand up, if you’re not so afraid you need to hide behind the circle of your friends. Stand up,” he repeated sternly.
The speaker rose, and Daxon scowled. One of his father’s greatest supporters for many years, until Shax ordered him to kill his best friend for an implied act of treason—one that had never been substantiated.
“Gregor. I hope there’s no duplicitous reason you’re here.”
At first glance, the man could have faded into wallpaper. Everything about him screamed average—hair, eyes, build, height. Looking at him, no one would guess he had the blood of hundreds on his hands. “There’s only one reason I followed you here, Daxon. And it was not to make nice with the local mortals.”
Dax squared his shoulders. “Do tell.”
“None of us here can choose whether to follow you into war without knowing if you’ll tread in Shax’s footsteps. Trading one tyrant for another isn’t exactly upping our survival rates.” Gregor’s pale gray eyes passed over Allix, registered disgust. “Neither does aligning ourselves with pathetically weak allies.”
“Pathetically weak?” Allix sneered, lip curled. “I can wipe the floor with you, jackass, without breaking a sweat.”
“Illusions of bravado,” he retorted calmly, “will just get you killed faster, little girl. Run home before the big, bad wolf comes knocking on your door. He’ll eat such as you in. One. Big. Bite.”
Impressed, Dax rested his hand on her shoulder, held her back with more effort than he’d expected. The group in the clearing were muttering now, debating and choosing sides. He couldn’t allow that to happen, couldn’t chance creating a divide between his people when he needed them to function as one unit. “Careful, Gregor. She had no compunctions about taking on Chloe in form.”
Gregor scoffed and addressed the restless crowd. “No offense to Chloe, but she’s young and not exactly tried and tested. What’s your blonde going to do when faced with a real beast, Daxon? Something that could tear her throat out with a single bite? Run home,” he repeated.
Murmurs of agreement circulated; the ones who remained quiet wore looks of contemplative doubt. The tide was swinging in Gregor’s favor, and Dax ran his tongue around his teeth, feeling his own canines elongating slightly in preparation for a much-anticipated fight.
“Risky of you to show your hand so soon, Gregor. How many were you hoping to persuade to scuttle back to Shax with their tails between their legs?” Daxon stepped forward, cracking his neck from side to side. “Is he planning on killing them for their disloyalty or just punishing them in the only way he knows how?”
That silenced a lot of the murmurs. All eyes seemed to focus on Gregor, a breathless hush falling over the clearing.
“The more who return to him, the more he’s willing to forego this useless war. You’ve taken his legacy, Daxon, and he is not happy. He’d rather see it burned to ashes than stolen from him. Your association with mortals—particularly the abomination—has rendered you and your kin as wasted potential to him.”
Allix bulled forward. “Who the fuck do you think you’re calling an abomination?”
“Baylee is of our blood, Gregor, whether you want to admit it or not. Like it or not,” Dax added in a deathly-soft tone, “you aren’t leaving here alive.”
Gregor grinned. “Keeping this place secret from Shax is moot, boy. He knows where you are. Killing me does nothing but prove you’re just like him.”
“Actually, I’m not going to kill you, Gregor. You’re right on that score; I’m not my father, as hard as he tried to make me into his likeness, but there is a point to prove. Allix?”
Wariness flashed in Gregor’s eyes before his face set into granite. Daxon’s lips twitched as Allix bared her teeth, pulled her hair back, and cracked the knuckles on each hand.
“Seriously? All she needs is a pair of pigtails and she could be a kindergartner.” He dismissed her with a glance. “Man up and do the job yourself, Daxon. Your testicles might just have a shot at dropping.”
Realizing he’d just dropped his mate’s best friend in the biggest heap of shit imaginable, Daxon bent to her ear. “He needs to die, Allix. Killing him is a huge burden to carry, one I can bear. He won’t fight fair.”
Her eyes slid toward him; he could feel the excitement vibrating through her. Strangely, he sensed no fear, smelled nothing but that eagerness. Not even the briefest whiff of nerves. The woman had balls of steel harder than most men he knew. “If I can’t hold my own now, I haven’t got a chance when hell rains down on us, Dax. This jackass is poison and he’s weakening your army.”
“If you’re sure...”
“Oh, I’m sure. Kindergartner, my ass,” she muttered.
“Have at him then.” Daxon moved out of the way as the rest of the clan formed a circle. He was reminded, uncomfortably, of the crowds gathering around the arena where Christians faced the lions and died. He just hoped fervently that Allix proved to be a lion.
“How do you want to die today, little girl?” Gregor taunted, strutting around Allix as she stretched out her legs. “I can make it quick or I can drag it out.”
“Aw sugar, are you one of those guys who can’t keep it up? It’s okay,” she assured him in a patronizing tone, “I completely understand. You get all revved up and excited and—oops! Little accident in the trouser department.”
A smattering of laughter rippled through the circle, sniggers and snorts that brought a heated flush of embarrassment to Gregor’s face. He roared and charged, head down like a battering ram, missing Allix by an inch as she pivoted neatly out of his way.
“Careful now, big boy.” She whipped around to face him as he came back at her, her face alive with wicked delight and a warrior’s gleam in her eyes. “I bet I like it rougher than you do.”
Gregor slammed into her, sent her to the ground with an explosion of breath from her lungs. She rolled as a booted foot stomped down where her face would have been, kicked out and caught him in the back of the knee, taking him down.
Quick as a snake, she lunged up onto her feet and onto his back in one fluid motion, her legs wrapping around his waist and her right arm looped around his throat in a choke hold. She clung to him when he surged to his feet, yelped loudly as he bent and tried to toss her free. Only the grip of her legs stopped her from hitting t
he ground with bone-breaking impact.
Daxon watched through narrowed eyes, wondering where the hell she’d learned how to fight like this. He yearned to get in there and take Gregor apart, but Allix held her own, admirably, and he could see she was earning the respect of several of those who’d doubted her.
Her arm tightened around Gregor’s throat, enough for his breathing to come in wheezing heaves. He reached back, over his shoulder, and grabbed hold of her hair in one big fist, yanking her forward with that painful hold.
Allix yelled, used her free hand to smack against his temple several times in quick succession. They broke apart, golden strands still clutched in Gregor’s hand, tumbling away from each other.
“You are such a fucking girl,” she complained bitterly. “Hair-pulling, really? Downright dirty tactics, you bastard.” She touched her hand to her head, then whirled and planted her foot square in his crotch as he struggled to catch his breath and his balance.
Every male in the circle winced in sympathy. Dax thought he heard the big man’s balls pop with the force of her kick, or maybe that was just the sound resonating from Gregor’s mouth. He gaped like a fish, gasping, choking.
Allix went in hard, employing a vicious one-two rhythm with her fists, bloodying his face. She snarled when his hand lifted, caught hers by the wrist and twisted cruelly, knocking her off-balance as he piled on the pressure.
Using only that leverage, Gregor forced her down to the ground, face-first, before he straddled her and wrapped his long fingers around her throat, squeezing. She squeaked, bucked, struggled.
Daxon lunged forward, only to be held back by Reed. “Let me go, for God’s sake!”
“She’ll either beat him or she won’t.”
“Fuck!”
Gregor leaned over her as she thrashed. “Good attempt, bad execution. This was never your fight, blondie, so I’ll make this quick.”
Allix said something, garbled and breathless. Her struggles grew weaker even as Daxon fought harder to break Reed’s punishing grip. Then her head flew back, smashing into Gregor’s nose with a savage crunch, then again. Blood splattered, a tooth fell from his mouth.
Wild: Hangman's Haunt Book 1 Page 31
