Wolf trap, p.15
Wolf Trap, page 15
As best I could tell, the video there showed the room we were currently in at this very moment. That didn’t seem so awful, but Lynette gulped and Curly Hair grinned.
“Well, hi there, Wolf Watchers,” he said, waving in a way that would have looked friendly if it wasn’t for the sharper-than-human teeth he bared when he smiled and the blood that flew off his snack to splatter the screen. “Good of you to tune in to see the almighty Executioner fall.”
In the cell beside me, Lynette trembled. And I understood why when Curly Hair continued.
“It’s time for some serious talk now. We’ve been letting this so-called Lawkeeper prance into our territories because we thought he had no bone to pick with anybody. All he cares about is keeping the peace, am I right?”
The alpha’s voice grew darker as he leaned in closer. “And yet, here he is in the home of the same alpha he slaughtered yesterday, intruding upon our efforts to select an independent leader. Wasn’t he the one who demanded no one enter or leave this territory until a new alpha was in full command of the pack?”
For a split second, Drake’s lip quirked. He thought the other shifter’s monologue was funny? When he was outnumbered twenty to one by wolves and, as best I could tell, was also in violation of shifter law?
For a split second, the scene from the floor above returned to me in vivid color. A man torn apart by the Executioner, perhaps for a similar violation to the one he was now being accused of. I didn’t realize I was biting the inside of my lip until I tasted blood.
And that blood seemed to unlock some sort of final energy reserve inside me. Because, slowly, I began shifting. The air turned cold as fur receded. Sharp fox fangs retreated into dull human teeth.
Morphing into naked humanity in front of so many strangers went against every social propriety I believed in, but I didn’t struggle against the transition. Not when Drake was losing this battle of words. If my human tongue could help…well, I was willing to become naked to make that effort.
So I kept shifting, so slowly I wasn’t sure I was going to complete the transition in time to make any difference. The frustration in my mind must have breathed out through my lips because Drake glanced in my direction. His gray eyes bit into me as I lay on the ground panting, halfway between fox and woman.
He looked at me then away again, his words coming out as cold as ice. “I came to take back what’s mine.”
“These?” Curly Hair gestured in our general direction. “I didn’t put them there. But, of course, we would have returned anything proven not to belong to us as soon as we publicly announced a new alpha. As soon as the ban against entering and leaving our territory was lifted.” He scratched his head, mussing his curls further as he pretended to think hard. “Wait. We haven’t done that yet, have we? Which means—shock of the century—you’re breaking your own rules.”
The alpha was speaking to Drake but he was playing up his argument for the sake of watchers on the cellphone. A right to trial by a jury of his peers. That’s what this was for the Executioner. Not a formal hearing with lawyers and judges the way human disputes were settled, but the most civilized version of mediation shifters were capable of, one likely to end in carnage.
And, as best I could tell, Drake didn’t have a leg to stand on. Well, I mean, literally he had two legs encased in dark suit pants much drier than the pair he’d worn when he captured me in the storm earlier. But if I understood correctly, he was currently very much in the wrong.
“So you’re not this pack’s alpha?” Drake’s rasp was quiet, but it stopped the pacing wolves in their tracks. Every lupine gaze landed on Curly Hair and I wasn’t the only one who saw his fists clench.
“I am the alpha,” Curly Hair confirmed. Then he lied through his teeth, something everyone in the room could smell but that the audience couldn’t sniff out through the video transmission. “Newly minted mere moments ago. When you were already trespassing.”
“No.”
Curly Hair’s gaze dropped to the cellphone, his jaw clenching. “It’s your word against mine. Your word against my entire pack.”
Drake didn’t bother verbalizing this time. Just shook his head, the tiniest jerk of motion from side to side. Then he tapped something on the cellphone screen and a time-stamped video flared to life.
Wolves, hunting as a unit. Wolves running together in a way that reminded me unpleasantly of my own traumatic memories. The hunters moved seamlessly, separating and coming together as if guided by a single intelligence.
Then the lead wolf surged forward, leaping for the neck of a dark stallion. The rest of the pack fell back, watching as two animals battled—the wolf with curlier than usual fur and the horse with blood slicking its body so that it shone in moonlight.
For a split second, I was that horse. Halfway between fox and human, oxygen evaded me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. I…
The stallion fell. The curly-furred wolf lifted his muzzle in a howl we could see but not hear.
In my own ears, long-ago howls consumed me. That other alpha had celebrated my forced submission in just such a manner. The rest of the pack had milled around me, nipping at skin and buffeting my body.
Not so in the video. No, this pack landed on their bellies in unison. Chins tucked as they bowed down to their alpha in a way that was all wolf.
Clenching fox claws into human palms, I forced myself past the cobwebs of past trauma. And as I did so, I understood at last what I was seeing on the cellphone screen.
Not a repeat of my torture, but a new alpha winning the status of pack leader.
Which meant Drake hadn’t broken the rules after all. The tightening of my throat eased as I completed my transition and fumbled my way to standing. I was naked in front of wolves and the proprieties didn’t even matter. Not when Drake had won this round.
Curly Hair didn’t admit defeat easily though. Instead, he cleared his throat and tried to talk his way out of a situation where his argument had grown considerably weaker. “You had to enter my property before I was named alpha in order to film this.”
“Drone footage,” Drake countered.
Beside me, Lynette relaxed for the first time since the Executioner had stepped through the secret door to save us. I didn’t understand all of the subtext, but she appeared to agree with my earlier assessment. Drake had won this round. We were home free.
Or maybe not. Because the image on the phone screen changed from a single wolf tearing apart the horse to a woman’s face. Her features were sharp despite her middle age. Her words were sharper yet. “Chief Clay, or should I say Chief O’Connell?”
Curly Hair glanced at the wolves at his feet, raised his chin, and chose a name I got the impression hadn’t been his previously. “This is the O’Connell pack. I’m Chief O’Connell.”
“Chief O’Connell, then,” the woman agreed. “I congratulate you on consolidating leadership without impacting nearby human communities. All restrictions related to the transfer of power have been lifted and this Wolf Watch transmission is over. Stand by for a private call.”
The screen went dark for only a second before the phone rang. The faint hint of humor that had colored the Executioner’s face earlier was distinctly absent as he pressed the green icon to answer.
“Now, Executioner,” the woman said, voice even more steely, “why are you dragging your heels on the wrong side of the country rather than doing your job?”
Chapter 32
I waited for Drake to claim me and Lynette again. To pull another rabbit out of his metaphorical hat and turn the tables as he’d done once already.
Instead, he just stood there as if the woman on the phone possessed some sort of hidden power that was preventing him from speaking. As if he’d gone from winning to losing with a single sentence on her part.
Well, if he couldn’t speak, I would. I had human lips and vocal cords finally. And I knew at least one potential rabbit just waiting to hop onto this stage.
And, okay, so trying to save the day when I only understood half of what was going on around me might have been considered a bad gamble. But Lynette’s shoulders were hunched up around her ears again. Some combination of my promise to protect her plus a thrumming need to see Drake’s eyes crinkle in humor made me break the silence before I could second-guess myself.
“My oath to Lynette makes her mine,” I asserted. “And marriage makes me Drake’s.”
I knew as soon as the man I’d spoken of winced that I’d made a mistake. This unflinching alpha who’d walked into a den of wild wolves without blinking had physically reacted to the statement that I was wed to him. I could only hope no one else noticed the minor quiver, one I might have missed if his gray eyes hadn’t been so magnetically attractive to mine.
Unfortunately, the newly proclaimed Chief O’Connell was astute. “Is that so? I’d like to hear about the happy occasion from the groom’s own lips before I offer congratulations.”
Rather than speaking, Drake just shook his head, but I felt the motion in my stomach. Even though this wasn’t the appropriate time or place for personal discussion, I couldn’t stop words from flowing out of me.
“You’re not married?”
Drake’s head swayed once to the right then to the left again. “You are?” he rasped before biting down on his lip as if he hadn’t intended to let the question escape.
I wanted to say no. If Drake wasn’t married, then surely I wasn’t either. All I had was Kami’s word to suggest I owed allegiance to some unknown husband.
Kami’s word and the surety in my gut that said her assertion was honest truth.
I could have lied, but everyone except Lynette and the woman on the phone would have smelled attempted deception. Instead, I forced my chin to dip into a nod, not quite able to force myself to spit out the words.
I was married…but not to Gray Eyes.
His reaction was more than a minor wince this time. His entire body tightened, drawing in upon itself. I’d thought he turned off all flow of warmth toward me back in the rain, but that was nothing compared to how the air between us now turned from sweet lemon to acid so sour it burned my tongue.
Being married to someone else was unforgivable. Drake was still physically present, but in every other way he had walked away from me at that moment.
The woman on the phone was the one who interrupted our tense silence. “As amusing as this is, the Executioner has a job to do. Chief O’Connell, perhaps you wouldn’t mind holding onto these distractions until more important issues are sorted.”
“Is that an order?” the curly-haired alpha retorted. “Is it permissible for the supposedly independent Executioner to form a pack?”
“No.” The woman’s retort was fast and crisp. “A mate would be acceptable. A pack is not, as you well know. However, I prefer that the Executioner not be distracted as he carries out his duties. Keep the woman and girl alive until he returns. After that, whatever happens is between the two of you.”
Then her attention turned one last time to Gray Eyes. “This is your final warning. Do your job. Don’t make me intervene again.”
I’d thought Drake would at least argue his right to take Lynette with him, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and exited through the same no-longer-secret door he’d come in through. A pair of wolves peeled off from the pack to follow, presumably to ensure he didn’t circle back around to try a stealth jail break. The others clustered around their alpha, jostling for position as Chief O’Connell headed away from us and toward the stairs.
From the cage beside me, the tiniest moan emerged from Lynette’s lips. She knew what would happen next. The light switch. The endless darkness. She’d counted on Drake to save her, and now thanks to my gamble he’d left her for who knew how long.
Soothing darkness actually sounded pretty darn good right now, but I couldn’t let Lynette suffer for my mistake. So—“Wait,” I called after the retreating alpha. “Surely you have at least one empty bedroom in this huge mansion.” That plus a light controlled by a switch within our reach.
“You think I’ll release you to run off after your fuckboy?” Chief O’Connell kept walking, not even bothering to turn to see how his words landed. “Fat chance of that.”
Well, if he thought crudity would get my attention, perhaps a similar technique would work with him. “I think it will be a distraction to your pack to have to bring us food and water and clean up our piss,” I responded.
The alpha turned to face me, the pack in question swirling around their leader in a mass of fur that looked like one unit rather than individual wolves from this distance. None had complained in response to my parry, proving their new alpha’s ability to command their behavior. The tiny hold I’d hoped to have over our captor dissipated like a heat-based mirage during an arctic blast.
Chief O’Connell did, however, offer another option. “I’ll let you out if you swear to obey me and prevent the kid from escaping.”
If you swear. I shivered and our captor smiled larger. Yes, like that other long-ago alpha, he understood how to bind a kitsune by her word.
But I wasn’t the same innocent who’d offered open-ended obedience who knew how many years ago. “I swear,” I told him instead, “not to leave this building for twenty-four hours from this moment unless you give me permission to do so and not to allow Lynette to flee during that same time period. I offer this oath freely in exchange for being released from these cells.”
The promise bit into me like a wolf latching down on the neck of a stallion, squeezing and squeezing until long legs crumpled from lack of oxygen. Despite the hard landing, however, my promise was time-limited and extremely specific. I could only hope I wouldn’t regret offering even that much.
Between us, the sea of wolves froze into stillness as their alpha considered. Then he shrugged and a single wolf began a slow shift to humanity without verbal prompting.
“I accept,” Chief O’Connell decided. “Better than scraping shit off the floor.”
Chapter 33
The naked woman who uncaged us shifted back down to four legs after turning the key in the lock. Apparently, my oath was enough to grant us free rein through the mansion but not enough to make us worth talking to.
Which was all well and good, but Lynette was in dire straits. Her entire body strained toward the door Drake had exited through, the door my oath demanded I prevent her from opening. Keeping the teenager caged within this building would go over better if I was able to win additional concessions from our captors.
To that end, I donned my best impression of a snooty society matron. “We will require a suite with a large bathing chamber,” I called after the receding wolf tail. “Please deliver a cooked meal and an array of solvents to remove the tape from Lynette’s fingers. After that, you may gather information about a non-pack woman who might have left the premises after your hunt began.”
The wolf’s ruff raised, but she did freeze in her tracks rather than continuing her rush to rejoin her pack mates. I’d caught her attention with my domineering delivery, which a vague memory now suggested had caused the matron I was mimicking to be detested by one and all.
But that foggy recollection also suggested the woman in question was obeyed because it was easier to do so than to remain in her presence. So I leaned into the annoyance factor rather than backpedaling. “Are you incapable of fulfilling these simple requests? If so, I can…”
I didn’t have to come up with a believable threat because the wolf shot me a slit-eyed glare before stalking up the stairs slowly enough that it was apparent we were meant to follow. Three in a line, we skirted blood and gore in the main entrance hall, man and horse parts intermingling in a way that looked less like a centaur and more like a grotesque parody of a sausagemaker’s workshop.
Lynette emitted a choking noise that matched the queasy sensation in my belly, but when the wolf glanced back I just lifted my nose into the air. “Chop chop,” I added for effect and was relieved when Lynette managed words at last.
“Pretty sure that’s racist.”
Perhaps I shouldn’t emulate that matron’s wording too closely. Still, my point was taken. The wolf led us past an array of bloody paw prints then up a broad staircase. And, at long last, we opened the door she scratched at to find the closest thing I’d seen to safety since entering this ill-fated mansion.
One window too high off the ground for Lynette to creep out of or for wolves to creep in through. A bed large enough for half the pack to curl up in. A second door leading into a luxurious bathroom. And—wonder of wonders—the primary door to the hall boasting a lock quite clearly on the inside of the knob.
The combination didn’t add up to freedom, but it was breathing space. I hadn’t realized how closely my hunched shoulders mimicked Lynette’s until the tense muscles unwound fiber by fiber. This pocket of protection would tide us over while we soaked up a little rest.
I half expected the wolf I’d browbeaten to ignore my other orders. But someone tapped on the door to the hall twenty minutes later while Lynette was in the bathtub trying to soak the duct tape off her fingers.
Clothes, I thought as I pulled the edges of the robe I’d found a little closer together. That would have been a clever concession to ask for. I was still naked underneath the terrycloth, and now that terror had receded I wasn’t so sure it was appropriate to greet visitors in this state.
Still, Lynette’s not-quite-silent mutterings as she tried and failed to scrape stickiness off her hands made me open the door half-clothed. And since the woman on the other side hadn’t bothered to dress at all, I supposed the niceties were irrelevant right now.
“You were right.” Her brows drew together, matching the confusion of her scent. She was the same one who’d let us out of our cages, the same one I’d slapped with demands. “Someone did leave. Here.”
The device she handed over looked like an extra-large version of a cellphone. And while my memory didn’t offer a name for it, I understood enough to assume the video playing across its surface was some sort of security footage from the recent past.
