Inquisitor (Witch & Wolf Book 1) (30 page)

“I get that, but I’m not leaving.”

“Are you insane?” I blurted.

“I’ll stay in the car.”

“The car won’t save you!”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

I wondered if he believed me. If he didn’t, well, I hoped he lived long enough to regret it. “If you call me by name, I might not kill you when I’m a wolf. Maybe.”

Anderson wasn’t Samantha, nor would he ever be.

I didn’t give him my true name.

I took enough allergy medication to kill a horse, left three epi-pens with Anderson in case I did return, and herded the kids into the woods. Mike waited among the trees.

“I hope you’re ready to prove yourself.” Mike fidgeted, staring in the direction I had come.

“Old man, I’m a lone wolf. I prove myself to no pack, least of all yours. Emily, Alex, go ahead and change.”

The old werewolf turned on me, bearing his teeth in a snarl. “Are you crazy? They’ll go wild!”

The kids froze, whining with each breath.

“I’m going to tell you this once and exactly once. I can take you and your entire pack on if I have to. Let them be. Let them run wild, if they so choose. They haven’t had a chance to grieve. I’m not about to let some young pup like you tell me what to do.” I pivoted, staring the old man down until he lowered his eyes. After a rather long silence, he bowed his head and exposed his throat.

“Go on, kids. Don’t wander far.”

Alex ran into the trees. Emily hesitated, opened her mouth as if to say something, shook her head, and chased after her brother.

“You brought a human with you. Why?”

I shrugged. “I warned him. If he’s wise, he’ll leave. If he’s not, I hope he’s smart enough to stay in his car and hope that’s enough to keep him safe.”

“The others aren’t going to like this.”

“I don’t care. You and your pack are targets. Start talking. How old is your pack? Why would the Inquisition target you? You don’t have an Alpha, but who is the most dominant wolf among you?”

“It’s not me.”

“Take me to him.”

Mike swallowed, bobbed his head, and walked through the trees. He led me deeper into the woods. An hour later, I heard the faint murmur of conversation.

“Wait here. I don’t want to startle them.”

“Go,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye, the shapes of two small wolves ghosted through the trees. Grey wolves. While it was probably the kids, young wolves often skirted the territory of a Fenerec pack. I sighed. If Mike spoke the truth, Alex and Emily would be hunted by every pack in the world. If the children were Omegas and the Inquisition found out, they would do anything, including murder an entire pack to get them.

Mike returned a few minutes later. “Come on. I hope you make this good. They’re not happy.”

I smiled, making a point to bare my teeth at him. It didn’t surprise me when he flinched.

Submissives.

I followed him to a cleaning. One man and two women waited. None of them wore clothes, but they didn’t shiver in the autumn chill. They were young. The stench of their wolves clung to their human forms.

I sneezed.

“You brought a human?” the young man swept a lock of his dark hair out of his eyes. “You fool.”

“Only a young wolf doesn’t mask their scent.” I bared my teeth in a wolfish smile. “If you can’t, you’ll die.”

“How dare you?!” Young werewolves were fast. For a submissive, he moved more like an Alpha in the height of his physical prowess. He lunged for my throat, his hands outstretched.

I stepped out of his path, grabbed hold of his wrist, and thrust out my hip. He collided with me. I followed his momentum, throwing him over my shoulder. I tightened my grip as he fell.

He hit the ground, his wrist breaking beneath my fingers. Ignoring his howls, I lifted my foot and stepped on his shoulder. “Unless you want a few extra broken bones, you’ll lie there like a good pup. Just stay put, ladies. There’s no reason for you to get hurt.”

The younger of the two women was a small blonde who didn’t look a day over sixteen. She stared with wide eyes. The other, a lanky brunette who didn’t look much older than her companion, focused on the man sprawled at my feet.

“What do you want?” the brunette whispered.

“To help you, if I can.” I let the young wolf go. “Your pack is in a lot of trouble. I offer you knowledge and sanctuary. I might not be part of your pack, but I am an Alpha.” I unleashed my wolf enough for them to smell the truth of my words and feel my dominance.

There wasn’t trust in their eyes, but a tiny spark of hope. All of them, even Mike, broke down into helpless sobs. Emily and Alex dashed out of the trees, their ears pinned back. I stood firm and waited.

If I pretended I was a rock in a raging river, I wouldn’t get swept away by the flood of their grief. When they howled at the uncaring sky, I swallowed back the urge to join them.

I was an Alpha, and no one could see me cry.

~*~

“How long have you been werewolves?” I asked, keeping my distance from the pack as they huddled together on the other side of the clearing. Emily and Alex curled up at Mike’s feet, their heads resting on their forepaws. Despite trying to keep some distance between us, the presence of two wolves and four human werewolves brought my allergies crashing down on my head. I struggled to draw breath around an ever-tightening throat.

One way or another, I suspected the six of them were going to be the death of me.

“A year,” the young submissive male replied. I cocked my head in his direction, but I didn’t expose my throat. Maybe in time Dylan would become an Alpha, if he lived that long. He held his broken wrist against his chest. The break would heal when he changed.

I wondered if he understood that his weakness roused my instinct to hunt him as prey.

“All of you?”

“We’re the youngest,” Dylan replied. “Felicity and Grace were attacked a moon before I was. Mike was the moon after me.”

I winced, rubbing my temples. A pack without an older wolf to guide it was troublesome at best. The Inquisition didn’t often leave so many alive in its wake, but unless something changed, they would become a danger to everyone around them.

At least they didn’t understand the ritual or how to force it on someone. There wouldn’t be any rogue werewolves born from any of them.

“There is one thing I can do for you right now, and that is give you advice. It’s up to you whether or not you accept it, but if you want to live to see another day, I would.”

“What is it?” Dylan asked.

“I’m going to leave you here. I’m going to pretend you don’t exist. I know nothing about you. Give me an hour to make some distance. Then, change. Stay as wolves. Hide in the mountains. Head south, where it’s warmer, where you can find prey. Avoid the humans. I know your scents. I’ll be able to find where you have gone.” I smiled. “I need time to find a pack who can help you, and a witch or two who can teach you the things you need to know.”

All of them looked alarmed, even the pups. Dylan sat straighter, his face white. “Witches? Why witches?”

“Witches can help you learn to control your animal instincts and impulses better. You need to learn to tame your wolf. Emily and Alex have been helping you just by being who they are, but you
need
to learn this for yourselves. Unless, of course, you want to curse others as you have been cursed?”

All of them shook their heads.

“I didn’t think so. A pack and a few witches affiliated with the pack can help you. Dylan, while you’re not an Alpha now, it’s possible you can become one in the future. No one is really born an Alpha.” I toed the line of a lie there. Alphas were rarely made from submissive wolves. Most were born Alphas, but learned how to control other wolves with time and someone to teach them.

Dominance was difficult to learn, but not impossible.

I hoped for all of their sakes that Dylan proved as rare as Emily and Alex.

“I could become the Alpha for our pack?” The hope in Dylan’s voice was painful.

“With time. With knowledge. With motivation. It’s up to you to guide them all, and to protect them. It’s your job to lead them in the hunt and provide meat for them.”

“I can do that.”

“Emily, Alex, I’m trusting you to watch over them, okay? You’re the eldest, so teach them how to be good wolves. You especially, Alex. You know best.” True wolves always did.

Both pups yipped at me, thumping their tails against the ground in canine delight.

“Remember. Wait one hour, then cross the mountains and head south. Avoid the roads, the people, and don’t hunt farms. Don’t give anyone a reason to hunt you.” I backed away, nodded to each of them in turn, and left.

I followed the scent trail back to where the car had been parked. It—and Anderson—were gone.

There were also more tire tracks than I remembered. “Well shit,” I muttered. Had he left of his own free will, or had we been followed? I tugged on my short-cropped hair, stomping a foot while muttering increasingly-vile curses at the overcast sky.

An ice-cold raindrop splattered on my nose.

Humans were so unreliable.

I stalked into the woods, stripping out of my clothes as I went. I wasn’t going to go far on two legs. With four, I could go anywhere. South, north, east, or west—it didn’t matter. So long as there were wild places for me to hunt, I would rule any territory I entered.

I stashed my clothes in a tree’s hollow before embracing my wolf.

I threw back my head and howled a farewell.

Six voices answered me.

I left them, guilty from the knowledge that if they stayed as wolves for too long, they’d never change back to human without help.

There were worse fates. It was better for them to live wild and free as wolves than die to the Inquisition or become slaves to murderers. One day, I hoped I could coax their humanity back to them. Samantha had been better at it than me.

Assuming, at least, that my own wolf didn’t take over. If that part of me did rise to dominance, well, what was one more crazed wolf in the wilds?

~*~

I followed the trail and the scent of old exhaust through the forested mountain. Settling into a loping trot, I couldn
’t quite keep pace with a car, but I managed to reach the start of the real road by the time the sun set. I sniffed for the trail, pinning my ears back as the cold wind snatched the scent from me.

While part of me was relieved Anderson wouldn’t be bait for the werewolf pack, it was the first time he’d backed out of his word. Anderson had said he intended to stay.

Unless something happened, he would’ve remained.

Had I been betrayed again, or had something happened to him? Maybe he wasn’t pack, and maybe I didn’t really want another fragile
human
loitering in my shadow, but I wasn’t going to hurt him.

Not without a damned good reason.

The wolf in me was eager to run. I headed towards the gas station. If Anderson was still in the area, he’d be there. Any farther, and I’d lose the trail. Not even my nose could distinguish the exhaust of a specific car, not after so long.

I lifted my head up, staring at the overcast sky. The bite of winter nipped at my itching nose. Huffing my displeasure, I rubbed my nose along my leg and willed the burning to fade. It didn’t.

After I checked the gas station, a world of options was open to me. Walking away was the easiest choice. All I had to do was turn around. Once I crossed the mountains, disappearing would be easy, whether as a human or as a wolf. If Anderson had returned to Atlanta, my legacy would become his.

He could take care of Marrodin and its employees.

The regrets I would leave behind and the lives I had ruined by simply existing would fade away with time. Either that, or they’d be forgotten in the midst of all of my other mistakes as a drop in an ocean of misery born of my poor choices. It wasn’t like Marrodin needed me.

In three months, my contingencies would kick in. Company ownership would transfer to the board members. Anderson would have a few hundred million reasons to not mind my vanishing. And even if he meant his poetic overtures, he was young.

He would recover.

I dragged my itching nose over the ground before I lifted my head, ears cocked forward. A chorus of howls broke the quiet of the new night, calling for the hunt.

The wolf in me wanted to sing with them. The human part of me did too, but responsibility kept me silent.

One day I’d sever the chains binding me to the human world.

One day.

The stink of car exhaust warned me of the presence of people long before the glow of headlights pierced the darkness. Sneezing, I skulked away from the road. The chill of the night air bit at my lungs.