Ashes To Ashes (Wolf Guard Book 2) (15 page)

I gaped a little at her. "Really?"

She smiled again, "yes. Probably has a bit more inside then even you do."

"Where's he from?"

She cocked her own head my way, "where they're all from - the guard."

At that moment I finally understood my own stupidity."The Captain. Of the Guard." It was my own recognition of how much I'd managed to miss in their conversation and how I foolish I'd been to look past that exceptional fighting ability. "I'm such an idiot."

She chuckled quietly,"you wouldn't be the first one." She narrowed her eyes my way, "does it make a difference to you? That he's a guard?"

I snorted, "that's the least of his problems."

She hummed,"so I've been told." Her gaze was rather old for a wolf I was pretty sure was quite a few years younger than me. "It's not all its cracked up to be."

"What isn't?"

She shrugged, "revenge. Has a habit of biting you in the ass."

I lent forward to rest my hands on my knees, allowing a little relaxation to fill my own body."I'm a little annoyed at fate. Now I know why Conall laughed so much."

She laughed even louder."We're the best of enemies - fate and I. I'll give you a little advice - sometimes it's less about what you're willing to do and more about what you're willing to lose."

It didn't seem like advice to take lightly. "What about what I'm willing to let go?"

Green eyes flashed a little gold in the center. "She'll have her way, whatever you do. Be sure you're willing to take the consequences."

Chapter 20

"Before I was Wolf...before I found immortality...empaths found me."

Heated smoke of simmering roasted beans twirled lazily in the dimming light. A flood of rich, burnt hazelnut that floated serenely on the air.

"I'd lost my parents...don't quite remember how. Wandering the woods in...stockings and breeches."

A reddish angry glow hovered in its finality, burning the heavy oak table to auburn with its flaming glare. The sun's last ditch attempt to stay it's hold over the day's end, a dying break through the overwhelming night.

"Two hundred years ago. Can't remember a single thing...about my father's face, but I remember...in vivid detail...the moment those people found me."

A chill dropped slowly over the warmer air, evening's companion that chased away the rebellious sun. Such frozen night that beat against a golden king, shadowed warriors of Arctic chill that dethroned a burning emperor.

"I smiled as they walked...towards me. Felt joy as they...took me away. I happily allowed them...to lead me on-wards...in my own destruction."

Silence blanketed the world. As if those shadows brought a deafening end along with them, dragging an iron curtain over the frosted forest. Deadened air that suffocates in its free falling sleep.

"Two took me to...their village. Fifty were waiting...to feed. Grief kept them sated...for some time. Pain became necessary...within a year."

Muscles strained against a thickened voice. A throat that worked to force that deep timber forward. A catch with each pause for breath, like he missed a vital part of his inner-workings - as if the construction of ligaments from throat to mouth was broken beyond repair.

"I wasted away...tied to a post, bare to the elements. The rope dug into my skin...until it grew within me, flesh healed over cable. I became emaciated quickly...as the wolf grew with maturity...it ate away at my body. They fed so often...fed me so little...I could not replace what they stole."

Steel eyes as cold as the shadows that fought for supremacy. Fire burned brightly in the center and melted cool steel to liquid silver. Consuming the shadows with flames as the wolf pushed his essence through the man.

"They put steel tipped barbs...on a cat whip. Tails of a thousand stabbing knives. They sank into my legs...with every crack and ripped away...flesh with every pull. They slit my throat...marveling at the blood that spilled. Wolf is the only reason...I lived."

A crackling roared to life in the living room. The fireplace pulling in oxygen and releasing it's waste through the chimney. Popping wood spat embers to the floor, singeing that marble surround with tiny smoldering comets.

"I was seven when they...took me. Fourteen when Carver...arrived. My wolf fought his brothers...raged against these strangers...like some rabid dog. I was taken to Carver's mother...wild and uncontrollable. She made me...what I am now."

Buttery leather creaked under mountainous weight. Roughened hands, calloused from work and fight, rubbed back and fore in monotonous obsession on solid thighs. Tiny tips breached the fingers, claws prodding at their skin cage to be released. Flashes of rippling beneath the dermis as the animal shifted within.

"Years later...I killed them all. Each one I ripped...their flesh from their bones...as they had done to me. Duncan found many of them...found your parents. I may not have...retained my sanity, but I remember...every face that smiled as I fractured."

The wolf pined, shuddered as his voice became harsher, as the struggle to continue showed in his throat. Skin that strained against the quivering muscles, pain in that stilted speech as breath choked the words from his mouth.

"Covered in blood...it rained down on me. Killed them all."

I lifted a shaky hand to his lips, placed my palm against such soft skin. I stopped any more words from trying to force their way out. "That's enough." I picked up one of his hands, still rubbing a friction path down his trousers and passed a mug of still steaming coffee into it. "Drink."

I watched the pull of sinew as his throat worked to swallow, a wince with each gulp as though the movement physically hurt. I would have imagined the wolf bursting through to have healed the damage. Either the wolf had not been strong enough to complete the healing or the remaining problems he had with his speech were a residual psychological effect. It was astounding to me, that his voice was the only obvious issue, I doubt I would have made it as far as he had. "She did a good job, Lane."

He frowned at me while soothing that ragged voice with silken hazelnut and caffeine.

"Carver's mother, she did a real good job."

He smiled. A little twitch to his lips that hid bright, white teeth. Less the predator he always seemed and more just simple expression. The ripples had ceased under his skin, the wolf calmer without reliving the atrocity that nurtured him. I hesitated to ask, not wanting to disturb the peace he seemed to find, but finally realized it was the only way to get the answers I sought.

"Did Duncan kill them? My friends in town?"

He coughed slightly, stretching that muscle to work once more. "He said he’d left me a present, I’d been chasing him...for over a day. Still don’t understand...why he did it"

A little flash of memory froze my hand in motion, lifted to push my hair away from my eyes, a tiny eight year old so stilled in terror that she'd not noticed her surroundings. "Was he with you that day? When you let me leave?”

He shook his head in denial. "I didn't know...you were mine."

I huffed at him."That's not what I'm saying. He would have seen that you just let me leave, maybe he knew what you didn't."

He shook his head again, slower this time. "You were a child...don't think I would have...killed you anyway."

Nice to know he was so sure about that. I rolled my eyes at him,"maybe he thought it was odd. Perhaps he's always known where I was. Killing Michael and Sarah gave him a reaction from me - seeking the wolf that left his smell in the house. I’d always been days behind you previously, I’d never caught your scent before.” I furrowed my brow falling deeper into thought. “What does he want from you?”

Lane growled. "To join him...in his madness. Been chasing him...since he betrayed the guard."

He took the time to explain all of Duncan’s betrayals to me. His murder of the old man that had saved Arya, his attempt to kill the Captain’s mate and his years long game of putting her under the control of one sadistic empath. I could admit my mistakes in this enlightening conversation, admit when I had been wrong about what drove an Alpha wolf to kill.

"What has the best chance of turning your beast to madness faster than anything else?"

Little rumbles vibrated his chest, anger at what could have been. "Realizing it had...killed it's mate in one of its rages."

I widened my eyes his way."I would never have won against you, you're a guard - I never really stood a chance."

"I smelt empath...your wolf was just stronger."

I clicked my fingers at him,"Ty rarely came with me to Sarah's house. Doesn't like to be around other strong empaths, finds it difficult to keep his own under control. Duncan didn't recognize him in that store - he's only ever seen me at that house. You weren't chasing him, he was leading you there."

He growled low and deadly, some serious fury simmering to a boil. "Don't like...the games he plays."

I nodded in agreement."I’m not a fan either."

He winced again and I passed him my coffee that was still only half empty even though, for a change, he'd done most of the talking. I wondered at Duncan's failed plan, if I was even correct in my assumptions. That night in my house as a young girl, Lane's wolf had been in full control. It didn't seem such a large leap of thought to believe the animal had known what the man hadn't been ready to realize.

Lane stood and picked up several logs from the marble mantel. Solid oak that was bone dry and would burn with a glorious apricot flare. He threw two into the dancing flames, bittersweet fingers that molded to the blackening lumber. "I'll get Arya...she has first rights to...his head, now that she's here."

I scowled a little, wanting my own piece of Scotsman, but acquiesced gracefully with the feeling that with what I’d learned, there was no doubt a line of wolves ahead of me in the queue for blood.

Lane started towards the door and paused before turning to stare at me. "If you're hungry...say. I forget to ask...these things."

I smiled at him, a full toothy grin. "It's alright, I've been feeding myself for quite some time now."

He grunted and left the living room in search of Arya. I sat, missing the heavy presence of one drunken Irishman, wondering what trouble he'd gotten himself into. I assumed he was still breathing as no one had told me to the contrary and, as much as Lane dismissed Conall’s lilting banter, I had a theory that the Alpha was actually quite partial to the faery hating wolf.

In the wake of Lane's memories, I felt nothing but guilt at my heritage. I'd been born from twisted souls, ones that couldn't even claim greed in their need of a young wolf's essence. Full empaths are not long lived - not unless they mated a wolf - my parents had no need of help to gain that extra life span. Some live longer then they should, regenerating from what they steal from others. Their power lay in thievery and unfortunately I was more than aware of how low one empath could sink. Like leeches in the sifting mud, draining the nutrients from their host, a parasite that attaches to open wounds - so these empaths thrive. I understood others aversion to what we are - I didn't like it, but I understood.

Little taps from dainty shoes stopped at the living room door. Silently opened and swiftly shut those feet carried a slinking female into the room. Her hair hung in one straight sheet, glossy in the fire's glow, soft and buffed to attract that golden shine. Bright, blue eyes that stared innocently into my roughened amber ones. A young wolf meeting one that had aged in her own short life.

"I'm Tessa." It was hesitant, quiet and as softly spoken as she looked.

I nodded slightly in return. "Sasha."

She braved a tiny smile."I know. I just wanted to say...Thank you."

I raised my eyebrows as my jaw nearly unhinged on a drop."For what?"

She smiled again, one that stretched a little wider as her confidence grew. "For helping. Some of the women don't talk very nicely about you but you stayed, I just thought someone should say thank you for that."

I peered curiously at her, she actually seemed pretty genuine with it."Oh. Well, no problem, I guess."

She nodded and retreated back through the door, escaping into a world better suited for her, one with females just like her. It was surprising, something I hadn't expected...and actually rather nice. It was an unexpected swerve in my preconceived ideas.