Downstairs, the air tingled with battle lust.
We split up into pairs—Byron and me, Jeremy and Opa, Ryan and Willow. Ryan and Willow were to fall back and be the last guard, the surprise. Willow shook with her thirst for blood. Ryan was calm, but concerned. His worry became my worry because he knew exactly what to expect. Jeremy surprised me with the aggression steaming from his body. My Opa was strangely subdued, but we all dealt with what was coming in different ways.
My family hid in the houses adjoining our own, Byron and I in the house to the left, Ryan and Willow settled down in the shed out back. A guardian triangle, ready in all directions. I stayed in a back room, while Byron kept his post at the front of the house, just in case. We didn’t know exactly where the wolves would come from, but we could guess they would approach from the back, perhaps sneak along the houses until they made it to ours. The front of our house was too open, with nowhere to hide.
My body shook even before I saw the wolves approaching. I gave a low whimper to alert Byron. He was beside me in a flash. The werewolves came closest to the house where Byron and I hid. We had phased at least two hours beforehand, but the waiting hadn’t been too long. We had been keeping guard, and my wolf understood that.
My wolf caught the scent of strange werewolves first. My wolf desired blood… more than that, vengeance. My wolf wouldn’t let them close enough to the house to catch Perdita’s scent. Thoughts of my sister left me. It was all about Perdita. Her words had stuck with me. “See you soon.” I could see her soon. I could definitely do that.
In spite of myself, I almost burst out the door there and then. A nip from Byron stilled my tremoring body. We had to do things the right way. I remembered Byron’s last words to all of us.
“Give them a chance to run. Let them make the choice to fight or not.”
Four wolves appeared—two brown, one black, and one sand-coloured. At least we weren’t outnumbered. Ryan and Willow would only add to the sense of us being in charge; at least, I hoped so. For yet another time, I wondered if they would betray us, if that had been their plan all along, or if the lure of their pack would be too strong. But Ryan had looked determined before we split up, and I knew he could control Willow. Jeremy had wanted to be paired with Willow, but Byron had said no. I wondered if he didn’t trust his own son.
The wolves crept closer, keeping to the edges of the extended garden, refusing to walk in a straight path. They were all large. Ryan had said there were few true warriors left, yet there were four. I knew they would put up a fight, but if we could prove to them we were in control, they might even see there was another way for them.
Ryan wanted to keep them with us, to force them to be on our side, but Byron was adamant that everyone get to make their own decision. I liked that idea; it was smart. After Vin’s dictatorial rule, maybe a choice would suit some of the wolves.
Byron nudged me out of the way. He would go first, and I would follow. Hopefully, we wouldn’t be ripped apart before the next duo joined us.
I sensed Byron’s anger, and I knew he would fight to the death to protect what we had, to repay for what we had lost. I knew I could count on him to fight like my father. I could only hope to make him proud, to make Perdita proud. The thought of her made my heart swell. I was falling in love with her, with the person I already knew I would someday love without limits, and it was for her that I would keep myself safe. I knew that for certain as I waited for the wolves to come closer.
They moved further into the large, unenclosed garden. I thanked Byron’s common sense yet again for renting a place in an empty neighbourhood. It might be far from the city, but it had been worth the privacy after all.
I tried not to snarl as the wolves came closer. The silence in the air was eerie, and I wondered if they could feel their luck running out. One of the brown wolves turned back, and Byron darted out, making the most of their disbanding. I followed quickly, snarling, sounding like so much of a monster, I surprised myself.
The running wolf hesitated, frozen to the spot. The sand-coloured wolf took a couple of seconds to gather himself. The brown wolf leading the way ran toward us before the black wolf even realised we were there. The leader pounced on Byron, and they both rolled on the ground, fangs snapping. I aimed for the black werewolf and felt the weight of two wolves on me instead. I realised too late that the sandy wolf had recovered quicker than I anticipated. I could sense the fourth running away, and that felt wrong. A harsh bark in the distance let me know Jeremy was following him.
Snapping wildly, I tried to stay calm as two older wolves attacked me. Fight, my wolf urged. Kill.
I gripped one by the throat, but the other was on my back, stopping me from shaking the wolf’s neck until it broke. Suddenly, I was free, and the sandy wolf was rolling on the ground in attempt to get away from my grandfather. Opa pinned the wolf easily, his teeth catching the back of the wolf’s neck, but my opponent slipped out from under me, taking advantage of my distraction.
Down to one enemy, I threw my entire weight at the larger male. He backed out of reach of my snapping jaws. Then, he moved toward the house, toward Perdita.
I went berserk.
With a howl, I raced after him, leaping onto his back and sinking my teeth into the fleshy part of his neck. He crumpled beneath me, whimpering, as I shook him hard.
Perdita’s face made me fierce.
Perdita’s face made me let him go.
I stepped back and sat next to him. He curled up in a ball, watching me warily, waiting for me to finish my attack. I glanced back at my family. They all seemed to be taking care of their opponents. The plan had been to dominate before showing mercy. So far, the plan was going well.
The werewolf next to me jumped up as if to run, but I pounced and held him down until he stopped struggling. Sitting next to him again, I growled a warning.
My opponent tried to crawl away, but a bark from me stilled him almost instantly. I felt invincible, ready to take on the world. I might have hurt him, but I knew Perdita wouldn’t want me to turn into one of them, so I didn’t.
The wolf’s ears pricked up, and I sensed Ryan and Willow approaching. I waited, a coat of tension covering me, until I was sure they weren’t going to attack us. Ryan barked harshly at the wolves, and I saw they recognised him and were confused. As one, all six of us ran at the wolves, herding them, barking and snarling, snapping at their ankles as they fled.
Ryan shifted, comfortable in his nakedness, and shouted after them to let Vin know he was challenged. I hoped he knew what he was doing. Vin had Ryan’s daughters after all.
We all headed back to get our clothes, phasing and checking for wounds—nothing more than a couple of scratches and a bruise or two. The relief released a whole load of tension from my shoulders. We grouped together after we dressed, joking and laughing as the adrenalin left our bodies.
“Easier than I expected,” Byron murmured. “Let’s hope they heard that challenge.”
“You sure that was a smart move?” I asked Ryan as we headed back to the house.
“The girls have value. He won’t get rid of them,” he said firmly.
“That went well,” Jeremy said.
“I told you,” Ryan replied, a rare smile on his face. “They aren’t a match for you, not really. You didn’t need our help, and they saw that. Vin will definitely hear about this.”
Byron was quiet, although he had a happy expression on his face. Opa had gone back into his shell again, and I wondered what it was he thought about when his attention was so distracted from everything else.
“But be warned,” Ryan added. “He’ll do whatever it takes to bring more of them with him next time. If I know him at all, he’ll try and gather all of the lost and lone wolves.”
“We can do the same,” Jeremy said.
A scream from the house chilled my blood.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Perdita
Nathan had kept me as far away from Willow as possible when I showed up on
his doorstep. Despite constantly telling myself that she was helping us, despite Nathan’s reminders that she couldn’t help herself, I could never forget what she had done to my father. I could never forget that she had tasted the blood of two of my favourite people.
The atmosphere in the house was strange. Amelia was still sick. She wasn’t even fully aware of what was happening. I was in a place my dad had forbidden me from visiting, and all of the werewolves were acting completely different. Jeremy was positively light on his feet in anticipation, and I was glad he hadn’t been around much to influence Nathan. Ryan’s eyes had turned colder as he prepared to maim, but he caught my glance and gave me a half-smile. I trusted him. I couldn’t tell why, but I knew he was on our side. And he could keep Willow in line, so we definitely needed him. Byron stayed close to Nathan, and I sensed something between them, like a new-found connection.
Our goodbye was hard. My heart felt as though it might shatter in my chest. He could get hurt, and the way he kissed me felt as though he wasn’t coming back, as though I was losing something. I couldn’t shake the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I tried to be strong for him.
I couldn’t watch them walk away, but I realised I could see most of the grassy area outside from Amelia’s bedroom window, and I knew with certainty that I couldn’t ignore what was happening out there. Armed with water, snacks, and a pack of wolfhounds, I tried to get comfortable.
I debated shaking Amelia to wake her, but I couldn’t do it. I wanted the company, but it was better if she slept through all of the excitement. I heard the others leave and moved to sit at the window, Cú by my side. I watched them divide up and hide away. I couldn’t believe the tactic would work. After all, the other wolves were more attuned to their stronger senses. Then again, the area was already well-marked by Nathan’s family, and that could confuse the other werewolves.
Willow had guessed the wolves would come at dusk, but Ryan wasn’t sure. That meant we all had to wait. After who knew how many minutes of staring outside, I felt my stomach churning. I decided to snack on some chocolate. I had only taken one bite when a moan came from Amelia. She tossed about in her bed, and I hesitated, trying to remember if you were supposed to wake someone up from a bad dream or not.
She sat up straight, her eyes wide with fear. As her gaze fell on me, I saw no recognition there.
“Give me back my baby,” she hissed in an accent I didn’t recognize.
“Um, are you okay?”
She blinked rapidly, and her expression shifted. “Perdita?” she asked in a little girl’s voice.
I hurried over and sat next to her. “You need to see a doctor. You’re practically delirious.”
“No,” she said. “No, I’m not. They’re memories, Perdita. I’m sure of it. I think I’m dreaming about how it all began for my family. Everything we know is a lie.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, anything to prolong telling her it was time for the werewolves to come. “So how does that change things for us?”
She frowned. “It doesn’t. Not really.”
“So why would anyone lie about it?”
She shook her head, looking muddled. “I’ve no idea. But it’s important the lies stop.”
“Amelia, you need some rest. Why don’t you go back to sleep?” I pushed her back and pulled the covers over her.
Her eyes closed for a couple of seconds before flinging back open. “Wait! Why are you here?”
I fidgeted with the blanket. “It’s time. They’re coming. We’re locked in with the dogs. Just in case.”
“It’s now? Oh, no. I wanted to see my family first. In case… well, you know.”
I nodded. Unfortunately, I knew exactly what she meant. I really didn’t want to know. I really didn’t want to have the knowledge that people had already died, and more people could easily die.
“I think it’ll be okay this time,” I said. “They have more on their side, and they know what’s coming. It’ll be over as soon as it starts. In fact, I’m going to watch out the window while you get some rest.”
“Will you tell me if you see anything?”
“Of course.” I moved back to the window.
Amelia sat up, calling one of the dogs onto the bed. Her grandmother’s old wolfhound jumped up and settled in, her large head on Amelia’s lap.
“I wish we could know for sure,” she muttered.
I tried to ignore her. Her sickness, whatever it was, was making her act strangely, and I felt pretty uncomfortable around her. I frowned at the window. I thought I saw something, a movement in the distance. Amelia’s window faced the back of the house. Beyond the back garden, trees and overgrowth badly needed to be cut. I was sure something had moved back there. Staring hard, I saw nothing else and figured I must have imagined it. But Cú changed my mind.
The wolfhound pressed up against my leg, a growl rumbling in his throat. I patted his head, knowing he sensed something. The wolfhounds were in tune somehow with the werewolves. They knew a lot more than the average pet. I knew Cú was giving a warning, and I hoped he was growling at something outside. In fact, I hadn’t even thought about what I would do if the werewolves got into the house and came for us.
I hadn’t liked to follow that train of thought because there was only one way that would happen. Nathan would never let the werewolves past him if he could help it. Still staring out the window, I heard Amelia murmur behind me. I would have given anything to be anywhere else. Her mutters were freaking me out.
Amelia cried out harshly, as if in pain, and I almost fell over Cú trying to get to her. Her face was deathly pale, and sweat trickled freely down her forehead.
“Are you okay?”
She shook her head vehemently before doubling over as if in pain. “I can’t take much more of this,” she hissed. “It hurts, everything hurts. And I can’t sleep without dreaming of pain and worse things. I feel as though I’m on fire.”
“It’ll be okay,” I said. “We’ll figure something out.”
She groaned. “There’s nothing to figure out. I’m supposed to do something.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone’s trying to tell me something, I think. Like this is a… a punishment, or a warning, or something. I don’t know. I feel like I’m being haunted or something.” Her eyes filled with tears.
“Is it really that bad?”
She nodded glumly, twisting her bracelet in agitation.
“There has to be something we can do to make it better,” I said. “Maybe doing a reading might help.”
“Tarot cards? You must really pity me.” She choked out a laugh.
“I’m still your friend. If that makes you feel better, then I’m cool with it. We’re sitting around here waiting anyway. What do we have to lose?”
“What if we don’t use the cards?” She bit her lip, hesitating. “What if we use something else instead?”
“Like what?”
“Spirit board?”
My stomach flipped a little. I might not believe, but something about those boards sent warning bells off in my head. It didn’t seem right to contact the dead, or even to try to contact them.
“We could try to talk to Mémère,” she continued eagerly. “Maybe she can tell us if we’re safe or not.”
I squirmed in my seat. “I don’t know…”
“Come on! What harm could it do? It would make me feel better.” She gave me those puppy dog eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t say no. She took my hesitation for acquiescence and jumped out of the bed. She flew around the room, taking candles out of drawers and setting crystals in a ring on the table. “For protection,” she said solemnly.
“Protection from what?” My voice turned high at the end, but she ignored my obvious reluctance.
She scrambled under the bed. “I found the board hidden in my grandparents’ room.”
“Well, maybe it was hidden for a reason.”
She climbed back out, still pale and sweating, but carrying the board reveren
tly in both hands. I wasn’t sure why I was nervous about the innocuous-looking piece of wood, but my head couldn’t seem to get through to my heart.
She laid the board inside the ring of crystals and lit candles all around it. A draught blew out the flames. Ominous, I thought. But Amelia simply relit them all, lay a cup on the board, and bade me to lay my fingers on the upside down cup along with hers.
“Mémère? Can you hear me? Please, please, please talk to me. I need you right now. Can you see us?” The desperation in her voice gave me a physical ache. I hadn’t been there for her enough, I realised.
The cup moved, then jerked to a stop. I glared at Amelia. “That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t me.” Her chest heaved, and with a sinking sensation, it dawned on me that she was telling the truth.
“Crap,” I whispered.
“Mémère? Is that you?”
The cup moved to no.
“Maybe we should stop this,” I said, almost pleadingly. Cú kept growling, and I knew I was missing something outside, but Amelia didn’t seem to notice.
“No. I need this. Who are you?”
The cup moved again, spelling out the word you.
“What the hell does that mean?” I blurted, intrigued despite myself.
“I have no idea,” she muttered. “Can you help us?”
Yes.
Amelia grinned at me triumphantly, but a bead of sweat trickled down her cheek.
“Are we in danger?” I asked.
Yes.
“From who?” Amelia said.
You.
“Stop saying that!” she yelled. Books fell from the shelves, making us both jump.
Dreams.
“What about them?” she asked, calmer.
Truth.
“They’re the truth?” I whispered, confused.
Past.
“The dreams are real?” Amelia sounded shocked, even though she had speculated about the possibility.