Pack Mentality

by Idella Breen

  “Unlike that situation, she can’t always just kill the people that get in her way of protecting him. I imagine she’s learned more tact and has essentially made deals to keep them both alive now that she no longer has the backing of her pack.”

  Jezebel was silent for a moment. “She would even sacrifice her mate.”

  Remus nodded. “Anything, Jezebel.”

  Jezebel frowned. “She’s not a monster, Remus.”

  “But, she is. We all are.”

  Jezebel ran a hand through her hair releasing a breath and Remus sighed. “She wouldn’t do it because she wanted to. I imagine she has her reasons. Maybe she even has a plan, I don’t know. Silvia is crafty when she needs to be and she’s a tactical genius but even the best-laid plans don’t survive the encounter.

  She’s made her choices and she’s made her moves and now Art has Gwen and we need to make ours. But first, we need to make sure that Art does, in fact, have her. We can’t attack them there but we can send you all there to retrieve her. It would be stupid to send you all there if he doesn’t even have her.”

  “How do we get her back, then?” Snow asked.

  There was a pregnant pause where no one spoke and they all considered their options. Mary mumbled something under her breath. Remus turned to her. “What was that, Mary?”

  “Aaron and Sheik might know where they are keeping her or if they even have her at all.”

  There was another tense silence. Remus wanted to ask why Mary’s siblings, whom he was sure were still teenagers, would be able to get that information, then he remembered what Jezebel had mentioned earlier about her pride and he remembered how he’d seem the list of allies Keith had shown him a few days ago. A sinking feeling filled his gut as he realized what she was implying.

  “I’ll call Aaron,” Jezebel finally said.

  Tiny footsteps interrupted another tense silence as Cole came into the kitchen.

  “Jazz?”

  Jezebel bent down to pick him up. “Oh, you’re getting big!”

  “And strong!”

  Jezebel smiled. “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

  “Jazz, when’s Aaron coming back to play? I couldn’t find him in his bedroom.”

  Jezebel felt her chest constrict. “He’ll be back soon sweetie. Why don’t you go and watch cartoons while I make everyone some dinner?”

  “Okay,” she set him down and he ran into the living room.

  “I cannot look for her,” Remus suddenly said. “I have to prepare everyone for the battle in two days.”

  Jezebel snarled. “What do you mean you can’t look for her?”

  “I can’t Jezebel. My clan needs me.”

  “Gwen is part of your clan!”

  “I can’t look for her!” Remus yelled and Jezebel saw his mask finally crack. Anguish, Jezebel thought. Remus looked like he was in pain having to admit such a thing. Jezebel felt her heartache in sympathy.

  Everyone stood in silence. It was only interrupted but the soft sound of cartoons from the living room. Jezebel took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

  Remus nodded.

  “We will, Remus. We will look for her,” Cait said.

  “Jazz, I’ll watch everyone so you can go with them.”

  Jezebel smiled at Mary. “I’ll call Aaron and see if he knows anything.”

  When she walked past Remus, she reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll get her back.”

  He met her gaze. “You’d better.”

  15

  Sitting at the desk in his office, Art whistled as he cleaned his favorite knife. It was a treasure he’d claimed from another alpha he’d killed for the position of second in command many years ago. He wore it at all times. The handle was made of dark and sturdy oak. It was wrapped in soft worn leather that creaked softly as he held it. He took great care not to touch the blade itself as he cleaned it.

  It was made with one of the few materials that could not only permanently scar a werewolf but also outright kill one. The blade was made of gleaming silver and even through the cloth he was using to clean it he could feel the slight burn from his fingers reacting to the metal.

  “You disappoint me, Art,” the deep and haunting voice of Death interrupted his meditative cleaning. It startled him into dropping the weapon. The dull clang echoed loudly as it rang out in the silence of the room.

  “Death!” Art stood hastily and stumbled when he tripped over the knife. Luckily, he hadn’t touched the blade, but instead, his boot kicked the hilt.

  “I expected better from the Great Art McCloud and yet you continue to fail me. Should I deal with your pathetic existence?” The voice grew louder with each criticism and Art trembled more and more.

  “I need more time,” Art growled out even as he tried to stop the instinctive trembling of his body.

  Silence greeted him. It was a silence that seemed to last much too long for when it was broken Art fell to his knees and gasped for the air that had been stolen from his lungs.

  “I’ll give you one last chance. If you fail me, there will be no others.”

  “Yes! I will find them,” Art said once the air returned to the room.

  “Have you ever heard of a night reaper?” Death asked as Art looked around the room, trying to find the face of the monster that seemed to always be watching.

  “No,” Art continued to tremble even as he envisioned such a creature that held the name of night reaper. He realized Death was threatening him with much more than the end of his life.

  “Let’s hope that you never do,” the voice rang out and suddenly the room was cold, and silent, and the air was stale despite the warm fire in the hearth. Art rose to his feet, with the help of his desk, and bent down to retrieve his knife. He held it by the handle, the metal glinting in the light from the fireplace, his eyes gleaming with a manic craze that seemed to blow his pupil out making his eyes a black hole of insanity.

  “I’ll find your weakness Death, you monster. When I do, it will be you that is cowering,” he whispered as he gently touched his thumb to the blade and fed it his blood. Art hissed and watched, hypnotized, as his blood ran down the silver and dripped onto the floor where it soaked into the burgundy carpet.

  Art was meant to rule, and he would tear down all who stood in his way. Not even Death could stop him, he thought as he smiled at the wound on his thumb that failed to heal. It throbbed with a heat that made his stomach clench as his veins turned black through his pale skin. Pain shot through his veins and straight to his heart. Just a cut and the silver was already in his bloodstream.

  Art set down the knife and pulled out a small vile from the top drawer in his desk. It was the antidote. He popped the top and dropped two drops onto his tongue, already feeling the effects as the silvers poison disintegrated in his system. Art set the knife down on his desk and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out his scotch. He poured two fingers and shot them back, poured another two, and finally settled down onto his chair.

  “I’ll show them,” he whispered into the silence of his study. “I’ll show them all,” he murmured and tossed back his drink. He suddenly stood, his face red, either from the drink or pure anger.

  “I am Art McCloud! I have sacrificed more than most could imagine! I will not be made a fool!” Art slammed down his glass and stormed out of his office unaware of the dark presence watching him from a shadow in the hallway. Silvia had been right. Art was unstable. It watched and it waited to strike when the time was right. Art would show them all indeed, it smiled. He would show them how unfit he was to lead, it thought, as it finally disappeared into the shadows.

  “Fifteen seconds! Give her fifteen more! And then fifteen more after that!” Gwen woke to yelling. The male voice that always seemed calm was now enraged.

  “Art—” a woman said but Gwen was no longer listening as the two of them argued. Art McCloud? Gwen felt like she should feel something about the fact that the alpha of the McCloud Clan had personally seen to her tortures and yet all she felt
was numb. She had thought it might have just been another alpha from the clan that Art had commanded to deal with her. Low and behold the alpha himself was personally seeing to her misery.

  Gwen felt empty. No one was going to find her. Even her mates had abandoned her to this man. The slight burn of anger sizzled in her belly only to be smothered out by the hopelessness she felt. She was trapped and powerless. Gwen was scared. She was terrified and yet, at the same time, she just wanted this all to stop.

  “She will tell me what I want to know or she’ll die! No one makes a fool of Art McCloud.”

  Gwen sighed. He didn’t even bother asking her questions anymore. It was just the tortures and his obvious pleasure with them. Remus was right to have been wary of this man. He was unhinged. There was a deep sigh then suddenly hands were adjusting Gwen on the board. She didn’t struggle when they moved her to lay down on the wooden bench.

  Gwen realized belatedly that she had given up. No one was coming for her. No one loved her. She had been left behind again, like the dirty laundry they couldn’t fit into the moving van. Her parents didn’t want her, her clan no longer needed her, and her mates betrayed her to a mad man. It was fitting that she’d drown. She’d been drowning in her emotions since the day her parents had left her behind. Now, she’d finally be able to just let it all end.

  “Thanks for volunteering to watch Raegan and Elena, Mother. Remus really didn’t know what to do with them without Gwen around to babysit them. He really isn’t good with kids, though I think he’s better than he thinks he is,” Snow said as she followed her mother outside. She heard giggling in the background and glanced back to see the two children chasing each other around the house. Snow smiled. Raegan really was a sweetheart and Elena loved her to bits. Snow didn’t understand all the fuss that her mother was making about the McCloud girl. She seemed harmless but her mother said she needed to speak with her and Cait once things finally settled down and Gwen was found and brought home. Sometimes it felt like they never stopped. It was always one thing or another and they were always sent out to solve one problem after the next.

  “It’s the least I can do,” Integra said offhandedly and yet Snow could hear something else in her voice. They walked outside and Snow paused in the doorway.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Mother.”

  Integra reached out and patted her cheek while giving her a wryly smile. “It was, even if it wasn’t.”

  Snow held her gaze for a moment then nodded. “We’ll get her back.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Integra said and trailed her hand down to Snow’s shoulder where she squeezed reassuringly. “But she’ll never be the same. That’s my fault.”

  Snow reached up and held her hand and squeezed back. “It will have to be enough.”

  Integra smiled. “Be careful, Snow.”

  “We always are.”

  Integra smirked, “You know you never are.”

  Snow shrugged and dropped her hand. “We do what we have to.”

  Integra wanted to reach out and hold her daughter but knew this was the way it was supposed to be and instead folded her arms across her chest and held herself tightly. Snow waved as she left. The door closed softly behind her as the gravel crunched beneath her feet. There was a look of determination that settled on her face and her fists were clenched white as she approached Cait’s mustang. They would find Gwen or she’d never forgive herself, Snow thought as she climbed into the passenger seat of Cait’s car.

  “Have we heard anything?” Snow asked as Cait pulled out onto the main road. She shook her head.

  “Jezebel is still trying to get ahold of Aaron. He seems to be screening her calls but it’s only a matter of time before he finally answers even if it’s only to see what she wants.”

  “We’ll get her back, right Cait?”

  Cait reached out over the console and rested her hand on Snow’s thigh. She gave a reassuring squeeze before gripping the steering wheel again. “We will.”

  Snow stared out the window and hoped they could make this work, for Gwen sake, Snow thought of Jezebel and her mother, for all of their sakes. She turned to look out her window and sighed. Fairness really was a lie. Reality always was so much crueler.

  She was still alive, was the first thought Gwen had upon waking. She was somewhat shocked at the regret that came with the thought. It should scare her that death was seeming more and more like the only way out. She realized, somewhat numbly, that she didn’t care anymore.

  This time, when Art came back and the light was in her eyes, she tried to imagine what life had been like before she’d been strapped to this plank in her cell and she found that those memories seemed more like the dream and the torture was more real than those dreams. At one point, she began to question if the cell was all that there had ever been and the memories were the cruel joke her mind had come up with to help her cope. Then the water came and she didn’t think anymore she just felt pain and that was more than real enough.

  “Aaron?” Jezebel said.

  “I’m not coming back home Jazz, Mom—”

  “I know,” she cut him off. They didn’t have time for this.

  “You do?” He sounded confused but more relaxed and less likely to hang up on her. That was good. It had taken an entire day for him to finally answer her phone. Sheik had turned her phone off completely and Jezebel had a feeling Sheik had been taken under their mother ’s wing or she’d been tossed straight into the McCloud’s ranks. Sheik had always been the better fighter. Aaron had always been a bit too soft for such things.

  “I didn’t call for that. I need your help.”

  “Okay,” Aaron said hesitantly.

  “My mate, Gwen, the werewolf. Do you remember her from the kickboxing club?”

  “Yeah,” Aaron said softly.

  “I need you to tell me if you know where they are keeping her. We believe she is there, at the McCloud estate.”

  Aaron was quiet and Jezebel pulled back the phone to check that he hadn’t hung up on her. It was still connected.

  “Aaron?” She asked and she could faintly hear him breathing.

  “I’d heard some of the guys joking that they’d caught an omega and were keeping her in the lower rooms. I didn’t believe them…until I heard the screams.”

  Jezebel tightened her grip on her phone and heard the plastic clack. “Are they guarding it?”

  She heard him sigh, “Two wolves guard it at all times and Art is always going down there. He’s the alpha of this clan.”

  “I know. Do you know if she’s been hurt?”

  “No. But it doesn’t sound like she’s being treated well.”

  Jezebel felt her heart clench in her chest. She hadn’t known what to expect but it seems she should assume the worst. Aaron’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Jazz.”

  “Is Sheik okay?”

  There was a lengthy pause before he answered. “We were split up once we got her. Sheik was taken into an elite rank run by another alpha named Kebethi because she was a better fighter. So, I don’t know but I believe she’s fine. I haven’t seen her or mom since we got here.”

  Jezebel sighed. Sheik was strong and had a good head on her shoulders. She could keep herself safe. “Be safe, Aaron,” Jezebel’s voice was grave and held a certain heaviness.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “You’ll know soon enough,” she cut him off and the words sent a shiver down his spine. What would he know? The line disconnected and Aaron wondered if he was making a mistake even as he slipped his phone into his pocket. He needed to find his sister. He missed Sheik and despite how much they fought, he cared deeply about her. They’d been here for a few days already and he hadn’t seen nor heard from her. She’d turned off her cellphone or it had died, both possibilities concerned him. He’d sniff her out next time he was released from his patrol duties and when he wasn’t so tired. For now, he needed sleep. They’d had him patrolling since late last night and he felt his body ache. Even as he got ready for a
nap, the warning Jezebel had given him weighed heavily on his shoulders.

  How long has she been here? Gwen wondered. Dizziness made her head droop to her chest. Her eyesight was blurry and her head throbbed something fierce. He stomach growled and ached. When was the last time she’d eaten? She also couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a meal and yet she found that she no longer cared for the answer to either question.

  “I’ll show them! Your stupid clan thinks it can make a fool out of me? I’ll show them what happens when they mock me!” Art was back, she thought ruefully.

  She heard the clang of the metal of her cell and she opened her eyes to see Art standing over her without the blinding light to hide him. His face was a grisly mask of hatred and held a manic gleam to it that seemed crazed and dangerous. She thought she might have felt fear at such a sight, but numbness blanketed all of her emotions, and she simply stared at him, dizzy and drugged. Something gleamed in the low lighting of the room. It caught her eye and she started to look down only to feel intense nausea. She tried to breathe through it as she blinked to try and focus her vision. He was holding something in his hand, she thought belatedly.

  It happened too fast or maybe she was too slow. One moment, she was dizzy then the next he was gripping her chin and a blinding white hot pain was burning into her skin. There was a loud keening sound, like an animal trapped in a bear trap that was screaming for help. It was loud and sent a shiver down her spine even as the pain branded into her skin. It was her, she realized barely coherent. She as making that horrible noise.

  Silver. He was cutting into her with silver. The burning overwhelmed her senses. This must be what hell felt like, she thought. The smell of burnt skin and rotting things and pain that was white hot and more blinding then the light could have ever been.

  One moment she was dizzy and out of touch with reality then the next she was drawn back into reality by the pain that was proof she was very much still alive. She wished she wasn’t, though. She really just wanted this to end.