Wolfsbane

  “All of them?” Bryn whispered, her own face crunching up in sorrow. “Even Ren?”

  “No,” I whispered.

  Connor had quietly come up behind me. He laid a hand on my shoulder.

  “You saw them?” Mason asked. “And they’re still in there? Alive?”

  Sabine’s stricken expression became a scowl. “You let us leave them behind?”

  Ethan rose unsteadily and joined our group, drawn by the rising tension. “What’s wrong?”

  Sabine was still glaring at me. “How could you?”

  “Calla had no choice in the matter,” Connor said.

  “Of course she did,” Sabine snapped.

  Even Bryn’s face fell, full of disappointment at my apparent cowardice.

  I couldn’t look at either of them anymore, so I stared at the ground, tears burning in my own eyes.

  “We didn’t leave them behind,” Connor answered for me. “I was with Calla when she found the rest of your pack.”

  “Then why aren’t they here?” Sabine’s eyes narrowed.

  “They stayed, Sabine,” Neville said quietly, taking in Connor’s somber gaze. “They stayed with the Keepers.”

  “No,” Bryn said.

  “That’s impossible,” Sabine hissed. “Cosette would never stay with them!”

  “It’s true,” Connor said. “They attacked Calla.”

  “Why would they attack Calla?” Mason asked.

  “Emile,” I said. “They were taking orders from Emile.”

  “And Ren?” Bryn asked, voice quaking. “He stayed too?”

  “Yes.” He stayed because of what I did to him.

  “Damn.” Nev walked away, shaking his head. Mason followed him, sparing me a sad smile before he left.

  Sabine was crying softly. “Oh, Cosette.”

  Ethan cleared his throat. “Look, if this Cosette stayed behind, it was only because she was afraid.”

  “More afraid of leaving than of what will happen to her with me gone?” She choked on the words. “I can’t protect her from Efron now. She knows what he’ll . . .”

  “Better the devil you know,” Connor said. “It happens.”

  She shook her head and sobbed.

  “You were close?” Ethan asked quietly.

  “I . . . I always thought of her like a sister,” Sabine said. “I just don’t understand.”

  “Calla.” Bryn took my hand. “About Ren . . . are you—”

  I held up my hand. “I can’t, Bryn. Please.”

  Guilt. Shame. Regret. An avalanche of feelings crashed over me. I couldn’t bear the thought of trying to explain what had happened.

  “Okay.” She stood up, frowning. “I’ll leave you alone.”

  She went after Mason and Nev.

  “Ethan, can you give us a minute?” Connor asked, crouching next to me.

  “Sure,” he said. He was already watching Sabine, who had risen, moving slowly away from us. But unlike Bryn, she didn’t follow the other wolves, instead stumbling to the edge of the roof, alone. Ethan trailed after her, keeping a respectful distance.

  Connor watched me intently. “Monroe told me you and Ren were close.”

  The thickness in my throat was painful, but I managed a nod. How could this get any worse? I didn’t think I could bear any more questions about Ren and me.

  “You heard what Emile said,” Connor continued in a low voice. “Just before . . .” He couldn’t finish, looking away from me. I watched him swallow grief.

  “Yes,” I said numbly, not knowing why it mattered.

  Connor cleared his throat a couple of times before he could speak again. “I’m asking you not to say anything until I have time to talk to Adne.”

  Say anything about what? Ren was lost. So was Monroe. Half the pack had turned to the Keepers. Those we’d saved thought our losses were my fault. But what could I do to change that? After all, it was true.

  “People know,” he said quietly. “Or even if they don’t know, they talk. It’s not a secret that Monroe loved Corrine. But no one knew about the child.”

  The child.

  I thought my heart would splinter into a thousand pieces as the truth seized me. Monroe’s endless questions about Ren. The incredible risks he’d taken, all trying to save Ren. The way he’d laid down his weapons before the advancing wolf.

  How Ren looked nothing like Emile, but he did look like Monroe. That was why the Guide had always seemed familiar when I spoke with him. Hair dark as coffee, the chiseled angles of his cheeks and jaw.

  I won’t hurt the boy. You know that.

  Monroe was Ren’s father. Corrine had asked him to kill her because she’d been ordered to have a child. And she’d fallen in love with Monroe while they’d spent months planning a revolt . . . a time in which her body had been unbound by the Keepers’ enchantments.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, feeling tears spill out of my eyes. “Ren.”

  Monroe’s son—not Emile’s—and yet a Guardian. The mother’s essence always seems to dominate, determines the nature of the child.

  “We can’t do anything for him now,” Connor said. “I wish it were otherwise. But Monroe wanted Adne to know the truth. Even if he didn’t make it back. I’ll tell her, but now isn’t the time.”

  Though it was painful, I swallowed the thickness in my throat. “But . . . how? What about Adne’s mother?”

  “It was before my time.” Connor kept his voice low. “But I’ve heard things. After the alliance, when the Searchers were ambushed and Corrine died, things were bad. Really bad. And nobody was in worse shape than Monroe. We’re talkin’ not-coming-back-from-the brink worse. I think he was hitting the bottle hard. Reckless on missions. Looking to get himself killed.”

  “What changed?” I asked. It was too easy to imagine how much blame Monroe would have put on himself.

  “There were so many losses that positions were shuffled all over the place after the Vail catastrophe,” he said. “Diana—Adne’s mother—was a new Striker assigned to Haldis. She befriended Monroe . . . was the only one who got through to him, saved him from himself. And eventually there was Adne.”

  “Did you know Diana?” I tried to envision a woman with Adne’s mahogany tresses and bright amber eyes. In my mind’s eye she was trading sword blows with Monroe and they were both laughing.

  He shook his head. “I was her replacement,” Connor said, shifting his gaze away from me to watch Adne. She stood at the edge of the roof, head bowed. “Whether Monroe ever told Diana about Ren, I guess we’ll never know.” Then his eyes were back on me. “Can you keep this secret?”

  I nodded, overwhelmed by cataclysmic revelations that kept coming, each new secret throwing my world into chaos.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. I watched him rise, wondering how he would tell Adne she had a brother she’d never known and likely would never know except to kill him.

  As Connor walked away, my attention was drawn to Ethan and Sabine’s voices.

  Ethan was leaning away from her outstretched arm. “I said no.”

  “Stop being a baby,” Sabine said, and I saw blood dripping from her arm onto the ground.

  “I’m not drinking your blood.” He tried to scoot back but faltered, unable to put any weight on his mangled arm.

  “Think about how much it will hurt to let that heal on its own,” she said. “It will take forever. This will fix it instantly, plus you won’t have any scars.”

  “I don’t mind scars,” he growled.

  “I’m sure you don’t, tough guy.” She laughed. “But macho points aren’t worth much if your arm is in a sling for the next month. You really think you can fight like that?”

  “But I . . . ,” Ethan sputtered.

  “And I know you’re still bleeding from that shoulder wound too,” Sabine said. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

  “Just leave me alone,” he said, sounding like a petulant child as he turned his face away.

  “I will,” she said. “After.??
?

  Sabine slipped behind him, wrapping one arm around his chest, pinning him against her body.

  “Hey!” he shouted, eyes wide in alarm. His next words were lost as she pressed her bleeding forearm against his mouth.

  He struggled to free himself, but Sabine was at full Guardian strength and had little trouble holding him still. She kept her arm welded against his lips, her blood trickling along his jaw. He flailed once more before he was forced to swallow. I watched something pass over his face—a mixture of fear and wonder.

  The scene before me was too familiar, making me tremble. It was like watching a hazy reflection of the day I’d forced Shay to drink my blood. The same amazed expression had filled Shay’s eyes. Ethan clasped Sabine’s wrist, drawing her flesh further into his mouth instead of pushing it away. He closed his eyes and drank, shivering with ecstasy.

  Connor, who’d been watching silently, uttered a sharp exclamation as the torn flesh of Ethan’s arm began to mend itself before our eyes. Shredded muscle rebuilt like new, skin closed up, completely free of scars. Ethan’s eyes remained closed. He was lost in the power of Sabine’s blood flowing through him.

  When the wound had healed, she gripped his shoulder, leveraging her arm from his grasp.

  “Easy there, tiger,” she murmured. “Or you’ll make me faint.” Her voice brought Ethan back to the roof, the cold night, and five pairs of eyes locked on him.

  He twisted away from Sabine, jumping to his feet, limbs shaking. “That . . .”

  His face took on a haunted cast as he stared at her, backing away. The expression dissolved into a scowl. “I didn’t want that.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, shivering as a gust of icy wind rushed over her bare skin.

  Ethan’s eyes were still hard, but he shrugged off his leather duster and tossed it to her.

  “I’m going to make sure there aren’t any wraiths finding their way up the fire escapes.”

  Wraiths. Bryn whimpered. I glanced at her and saw that the pack, except Sabine, had reverted to wolf form. Nev and Mason pressed their muzzles against her, their own limbs trembling. I shuddered. It was too easy to imagine the torment that my packmates had been subjected to, the memories of fear and pain that would stay with them even though they were now free. I drew a slow breath, grasping for some way to ease my mind. We were lucky that only Guardians had ambushed us. We’d been able to fight them off.

  Lucky . . .

  “All clear,” Ethan said, returning to our huddled group. “No one came after us. Is Adne ready to open the door now?”

  “She is,” Adne said, returning from her solitude. The tracks of tears still glistened on her face. “Are you sure no one is following us? They were outside before; that’s how I ended up here.”

  “What happened?” Connor asked. “How did you get to us?”

  “After you’d been gone about twenty minutes, there was a lot of activity on the street outside the club—cars pulling up; I heard shouting and movement,” she said. “Dozens of Guardians went in through the side door. I worried I’d be spotted, so I closed the portal and opened a door to this roof. I waited until I realized you were in serious trouble.”

  “What made you open the door inside Eden?” Ethan asked.

  “I watched the club from the edge of the roof,” she said. “The Guardians kept coming. There were so many of them, and so much time had passed. I knew you’d be trapped. I decided I had to risk it.”

  “Thanks for that,” Ethan said. “We’d all be kibbles and bits if you’d played it safe.”

  “Guardians don’t eat people,” I said, frowning. “We never eat people.”

  “You know what I meant.” He grinned.

  “I’m just glad I was paying attention when your brother described the prison,” Adne said, offering me a thin smile. “Those were the details I used to weave the door.”

  “How do you do it?” Sabine asked, pulling Ethan’s jacket tight around her body. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  “Adne can use magic to connect one place to another,” I said, trying to make the explanation as simple as possible. “It’s how they travel.”

  “Neat-o.” Nev had shifted into human form. “And the Keepers don’t just follow you?”

  “The Keepers can’t create the doors,” I said quickly. “I’ll explain that later.” I didn’t think now was the time to tell my packmates that the Searchers described our creation as a sin against nature. And I was distracted. Ethan’s words buzzed in my ears. No one had come after us. Why? We were hidden, but not that well. It would only make sense for the Keepers to comb the streets, even the rooftops, hunting us.

  Fighting back more than a brush of nerves, I raised my voice. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “What doesn’t make sense?” Connor asked.

  “Our escape,” I said. “It was too easy.”

  “Too easy?” Adne hissed. “My father is dead!”

  Sorrow spilled through me. I hung my head, thinking of Monroe, of Ren. Of how close a father had been to reclaiming his stolen son. I wondered if Bryn, Mason, Nev, and Sabine would carry the marks of torment like my brother. They seemed fine now, but would the adrenaline rush of freedom be sucked away by misery when they realized that nothing in their lives would ever be the same? Had we truly saved anyone? Regret drowned my unease, sending me into a spiral of despair.

  Connor pressed his hand onto her shoulder. “Hang on, Adne. I don’t think she means offense. What are you talking about, Calla?”

  I shook my head, not wanting to dig myself into a deeper hole where I’d be suffocated by doubt and regret.

  “No,” Ethan said. “Tell us. You know the Keepers. What’s bothering you about this?”

  The strength in his voice pulled me out of self-pity. I tried to remember who I was, or at least who I’d once been. A leader. A warrior.

  “It was a trap,” I said.

  “Obviously.” Ethan nodded, his eyes narrowing while I spoke. “And a pretty good one.”

  “But not as good as it could have been,” I said slowly.

  “Keep going,” he said.

  “Wraiths,” I said simply.

  Connor left Adne’s side and took a few steps toward me. “What about them?”

  “Why weren’t there any wraiths?” I struggled to keep confidence in my voice despite the new, sickening fear that snaked through my gut.

  No one answered, but everyone’s eyes were on me.

  “Think about it,” I said. “They knew we were coming, but we only fought Guardians. I didn’t see any Keepers, and without Keepers there are no wraiths.”

  “What are you getting at?” Ethan asked.

  “Where were the Keepers?” I replied. “Why weren’t they part of the ambush?”

  “Didn’t want to get their hands dirty,” Connor grumbled.

  “No,” Ethan said, a shadow of concern passing over his face. “She’s got a point. Why wouldn’t they use their most effective weapon if they wanted to make sure we didn’t escape?”

  “Maybe they were around but not in the building,” Adne said, sweeping tears away with the back of her hand. “I’ve never opened an inside door before today. They could have been waiting for us to make a run for it once we left the club.”

  “Maybe,” I said, but fear continued to swarm over my skin. “But then why aren’t they down there looking for us?”

  No one answered.

  “Well, it’s not going to do us any good to wait here and find out,” Connor said. “Adne, open a door. Let’s get back to Denver.”

  “Right,” Adne said. “Just do the job. Like nothing’s happened.”

  She turned away from him, sulking. Not a good sign. My unease grew by the second. We needed to get out of here and Adne’s grief was slowing our escape. She might be gifted for her age, but she was still young and now it showed. Connor grabbed her shoulders, whirling her to face him. He took her chin in his palm, leaning close to her.

  “You’re not the
only one who lost someone today, Adne,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. “I loved your father too. So did Ethan.”

  I looked away, feeling uninvited into this intimate moment.

  “But you’re the only one who can get us out of here,” I heard Connor say.

  I cast a sidelong glance at them. Adne had pulled away from him and was drawing the skeans from her belt.

  “I know,” she said, and began to weave.

  Bryn shifted forms and came to my side.

  “That’s amazing,” she whispered, watching the door emerge from strands of light.

  I nodded.

  She took my hand. “I’m sorry I walked away from you, Calla. There’s just so much that’s happened.”

  “Don’t apologize,” I said. “It’s all my fault.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said. I was surprised by the hard edge in her voice. “If the others stayed behind, they’re fools. And it isn’t your fault.”

  “But Ren . . .” When he’d kissed me, I’d felt how much he still wanted me, and from the way my blood had caught fire, I knew at least part of me still ached for him. The knowledge caught me by surprise, stealing my breath as I relived those horrible first minutes in the cell with Ren. I could still see the pain in his eyes when he’d thought he had no choice but to hurt me.

  “No,” Bryn said, her voice plowing through my flurry of thoughts. “Calla, I don’t know why you left Vail, but I can guess. Ansel and I were guessing a long time ago. I don’t blame you for following your heart.”

  “There’s more than that,” I said.

  “I’m sure there is,” she said. “But even if there wasn’t, it wouldn’t make leaving wrong. And you still wouldn’t be to blame for Ren’s choice. That’s all it is. His choice.”

  I looked at her, stung by the love in her eyes. The forgiveness.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “What in life is worth a sacrifice, if not love?” She smiled sadly.

  “You sound like Ansel.”

  “Like attracts like,” she said, and I flinched.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said quickly, not wanting to tell her I’d heard that said before. That Ren had spoken those very words to me, and in remembering them, I now realized it was his way of telling me that we were meant for each other. The memory smoldered in my chest like lit coals, burning out much too slowly.