Silence of the Wolves (23 page)

They dragged him into an industrial elevator, though Leyth was still too dizzy to work out what button they pressed. The metal thing whooshed downwards, making Leyth’s stomach roll, threatening to evict what was left once. As the metal box ground to a halt, the doors opening with a mechanic squeal, he was dragged out once more. He tried to lift his feet, to walk with them, but he couldn’t keep up with the two hefty minos. They were in full human form, but hell they were still huge. Their arms were easily the width of Leyth’s thighs; their huge chests like brick walls. He gave himself over to them, letting them continue to drag him through a myriad of hallways; each had several doors leading to various rooms. The scent of stainless steel and antiseptic hit him hard; it really did have a clinical feel to it. Something told him there was nothing good about that.

Screams echoed out around him, coming from several of the rooms. Screams that told of pain, of hurt and confusion. This was no medical clinic. These were torture chambers.

Leyth struggled against the minotaurs’ vice-like grip; he needed to get free, to help whoever was screaming. It did little to free him though; their heavy hands crushed his limbs hard enough to snap bone as they dragged him forward, down the steps into the basement of the building.

Without so much as a ‘hi-how-are-ya?’, he was thrown into a cell and the door was locked. The cold stone bit into his skin as he hit it.

‘We’ll be back for you later,’ a minotaur said, walking away.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Looking around the room, he found nothing but stone walls, a floor, a ceiling. They had even provided a stone slab to be used as a bed. The door was barred, metal struts cutting him off from the outside world, and the entire place was deathly silent. Not a noise.

The scent dust and mould swamped him, overriding his senses. He walked over to the slab and sat his arse down. There was no way out and nothing he could do, other than try not to worry about his female.

He wished he knew where she was. Hoped to hell she was OK.

Several hours passed. He was given water, but no food. He splashed his face, washing away the sweat and dirt smothering his skin and finally… He managed to close his eyes.

As he began to drift off, thoughts and worries of Tamriel subsiding just a little… he was hauled out of the cell. Heavy hands wrapped around his arms, jerking him upright.

The minotaurs dragged him out of his stone cell, allowing him to see the rest of the room. It was all cool stone; barred cells lined the walls, but held little life. At the end were two female guards.

They dragged him up the stairs and into one of the rooms. It looked very much the same as the hallways; whitewashed walls, plastic, clinical floor. It seemed like a hospital, but held all manner of bizarre restraints. There was a large stainless steel table in the middle and various chained handcuffs lining the walls. In the far corner there was a large cupboard. He didn’t want to know what was in it.

The minos hefted his body onto the steel table and strapped his wrists and ankles with metal cuffs. With a pair of scissors they cut through his jeans and T-shirt, peeling the material from him, leaving him in just his boxers. Well, he supposed he had to be grateful for small mercies. At least they left his manhood covered.

Looking up at them, he wanted to ask why they were doing this; his tight hold on control slipping. But as he looked at the minotaurs’ faces for the first time; their large, excessively chiselled faces, ridiculously defined, heavy chins and broad, overly muscled necks, he realised. They were tuhrned; their eyes were pitch-black, lifeless black mirrors, the circles magi used to look through. These were tombs.

‘Mr Leyth?’ A bold voice bounced off the walls and he strained his head trying to see who was there. As he did, a slither of dark magic consumed the room, making the air seem to crackle and spark around him. The minos’ eyes quickly faded, the blackness retreating to leave brown eyes that were full of life, but dead to emotion in their place. The huge shifter abruptly turned and left the room, leaving him with the man in the doorway.

‘Ah, the ever-determined rogue.’ Inhaling deeply, all Leyth could smell was death. A rotting, decaying tomb.

‘
Hello, Leyth. Remember us?
’ As the male walked within view, he was disgusted. The tomb was well into its rotting stage; the male’s skin was grey, his eyes glazed over and slowly turning into the soulless black pits he knew and despised.

‘
Tell us where the female is.
’

‘What female?’ he spat.

‘
The wolf, Tamriel.
’

‘I don’t know.’

‘
We think you do. We know you know how to find her.
’

‘
I don’t know how to find her and, even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.’

The tomb walked over to the cupboard and slowly opened the doors, giving Leyth a clear view of his gnarly, bony body. It was a gruesome surprise that his skin wasn’t actually falling off of his bones, the flesh was so rotten.

Bringing out a black candle, he walked back over, lighting the tip with a match.

‘
We know how to hurt you, wolf.
’

‘With a candle? I doubt it.’ Its expression didn’t change as he tipped the candle over; slowly the wax began to melt, hitting his skin.

As the stuff hit, it burnt straight through him; the smell of burning flesh filled the air as he gritted his teeth in an effort not to scream.

It wasn’t wax. It was plastic.

‘
Tell us where she is, Leyth,
’ the tomb snapped, tipping the candle a little further, allowing the glowing blue flame to stroke the plastic, melting it quickly. Black smoke bellowed from the plastic candle as the melted, scalding liquid slowly cascaded onto his skin. Shit, some of it was still on fire.

It was possibly the most painful thing Leyth had ever encountered.

‘
Tell us where Tamriel is.
’

‘I- Don’t- Know,’ he bit out.

The tomb tilted the plastic candle even further forward and the black droplets increased, with fire sticking to them as they fell, hitting his abdomen and burning its way through his flesh.

‘
This could be over so quickly. Just tell us where Tamriel is.
’

‘Fuck. You,’ he roared.

With that, the tomb jammed the candle into his stomach, the burning plastic scorching his skin until there was none left.

The pain of his flesh burning, melting under the scalding plastic rippled its way through his body, making him grit his teeth so hard his mouth ached with the motion. His wolf roared to the surface, heating him from the inside out.

As the change began, his bones beginning to bend ready to break and shift, the tomb hissed. Lifting its decaying arms high, it plunged downward, something sharp entering his skin and hitting bone.

The metal burnt as it entered his flesh, making his skin hiss and burn. Silver. The change stopped abruptly, his wolf recoiling, going into hiding.

The tomb laughed in an eerie, high-pitched tone.

Why the hell did the Maker create a soul that was so reactive to metal? All wolves, all shifters reacted strongly to the presence of silver. It was the only thing that could cause them serious damage.

Maybe it was an allergic reaction to something so pure; maybe it was just some twisted joke. Whatever the reason, Leyth cursed the Maker for making them so sensitive, loud and hard. Finally, as the pain eased to a constant hum, he opened blurry eyes. There was a huge silver nail wedged into his bicep, the tip of it grazing bone every time he moved.

‘
Tell us where she is,
’ The tomb spat, sending saliva that stank to the high heavens flying through the air, hitting his face.

‘I’m not telling, you shit,’ Leyth barked.

‘
You will live to regret those words,
’ the tomb hissed, his face so close to Leyth’s that his breath washed over him; his putrid breath stank of death, decay. It made his stomach roll and twist, but even more determined to bring these bastards down. To keep his female safe.

Hours went past, days even. Leyth’s body screamed in agony. He’d been cut and torn, his bones broken, his skin burnt.

They had used silver pins, nails and knives to shred him apart and still he stayed silent.

They had melted plastic to his skin, the stuff burning through his flesh and solidifying against it. They had then ripped the plastic off taking his body, his flesh, with it.

They ripped him apart, piece by piece, until he had no skin left to remove, no flesh that had been left uncut. His throat was raw from screaming, his body slick with blood, his face, his hair damp from tears, tears of pain and of loss. And still he didn’t talk. Still.

The thought of Tamriel’s beautiful face, her wide smile, was what kept him going. He would never give up on her.

When the two minotaurs came to take him away, they weren’t gentle. They hauled him off the steel table, his body hitting the ground hard. They dragged him across the floor by his feet, the plastic floor tearing at his open wounds, scraping the remaining skin from his back.

He was left on the floor of his cell to rot.

He’d passed out at that point, only to be awoken in his cell for another round of torture. This time they didn’t even take him into another room, no, they hung him by his wrists against the wall of his cell. Using hot silver pins, they scored his flesh from his feet upwards, leaving burning silver in its wake. They melted down pure silver and dribbled it across his peck, letting the shit run down his abs and solidify on his still-aching flesh.

He kept his eyes shut, his mind on his beautiful female. The High Lord ran the Circle… that was now evident. How the hell they hadn’t realised this before, he had no idea. It was bad news for the entire Kingdom.

No one knew how close the Circle were to taking over the Council and changing the Kingdom as they knew it, but hell, there wasn’t a damn lot he could do.

He’d tried to escape, Maker only knew he’d tried.

But he was bloody and weak; they’d kept silver in his skin constantly, forcing him to remain in his human form. Not allowing him to shift and heal.

‘
Where is Tamriel?
’ the tomb hissed for the thousandth time.

Leyth opened his mouth to speak, to tell the bastard where to stick it, but nothing came out. His throat was so raw he couldn’t even manage the strength to cough. He had no doubt that if he wasn’t being held up, pinned to the wall with silver nails, he wouldn’t even have the strength to stand. He didn’t even have the strength to lift his head.

‘Fuck you,’ he managed to heave, wishing he had the energy to stick his middle finger up at the zombified bastard.

The rotting bastard let out a strangled roar that sounded more like a gargled scream. Then it tore at him, sending a silver blade into his shoulder and ripping it through him. The metal burnt as it entered his flesh, making him hiss in pain. Maker only knew, his body should be numb by now. They had tortured him to the point of no return but, hell, it still stung.

The tomb eventually gave in, the knife slicing through his flesh as they left him.’
He’s not going to tell us anything,
’ the tomb hissed at one of the minotaurs.
‘He has outlived his usefulness. Kill him.
’

‘How would you like me to do it?’

‘
Silver injection.
’

Tamriel was twirling the telephone cord in her finger as the line rang. She was calling her mother, and, hell, she’d never been so nervous. After all, she had a lot to tell her.

‘Hello, Ellie Chambers.’

‘Mum! It’s Tam.’

‘Hi, sweetheart, I was just thinking about you!’

‘How funny. Listen, I need to tell you something.’

‘OK, honey, fire away. But first, tell Sapphire I said hello, and that I’ve missed her.’

‘What?’

‘Tell Sapphire—’

‘Yes, I heard that bit, how did you know I was with Saph?’

‘Let’s call it mothers’ intuition for now.’

‘Mum!’

‘OK, OK. Christ, Tam, you’ve never been very patient.’ There was a long silence on the other end of the line; it was almost as if she were working out what to say.

‘Mum, I know you’re Wiccan.’

‘Shit! Did Sapphire tell you?’ She cursed, sounding pissed off and relieved at the same time.

‘Yes she did.’

‘I didn’t know how much she knew; when her mother died, we all sort of went in different directions. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was Wiccan, it’s dangerous you know, to be the offspring of two different races. Human and wolf you could get away with. Wiccan and wolf? It’s a death sentence. I never wanted to lie to you, sweetheart, I just wanted to give you the best life I could, especially without your father around.’

Tamriel paused, fiddling again with the phone cable.

‘Tamriel, stop fidgeting, that cable is going to come straight out of the wall if you’re not careful.’

‘How did you—’

‘Maternal, Wiccan intuition.’

‘Right. I know you were just protecting me, Mum, I know that. I just feel like I’m only learning about who I really am now, and I’m twenty-three. It’s really difficult.’

‘I know it is, sweetheart, but you have hundreds of years in you; you are wolf, after all. And, OK, maybe I haven’t been the best parent in the world, keeping all of this from you, but lord only knows you are the most determined, hot-headed, stubborn young lady I know.’ She sighed, and Tamriel could almost see her holding a photograph of her as a small child. ‘When you were a child, Tam, you were so determined, I just couldn’t imagine what you’d be like with the powers of a Wiccan trained into you as well. As you grew, it became harder and harder to tell you. So I left it and hoped you would never find out. Silly I know, I just…’

‘It’s OK, Mum, it really is. I love you.’

‘I love you too, sweetheart.’

Tam paused, wanting to tell her mother everything, wanting to tell her where she was and that she was on the run from the Council, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t want to worry her or bring her into it.

‘Listen, Tamriel, I’ve been watching you. In fact, if I’m honest, I’m always watching you, it’s the easiest way to keep up with your busy life! I have psychic talents, of course, but there is time to discuss that at length later. I just want you to know that I think Leyth is a wonderful boy and I will look forward to meeting him when I come to visit.’

‘Mum, there is so much I need to tell you.’

‘I know, sweetheart, and so much we need to catch up on.’ She paused for the longest of moments. ‘I’m still so sorry I didn’t tell you about your heritage; your father and I always hoped you might lead a normal life, a life of secrecy and fighting isn’t a pleasant one. But I see now, I should have known you would turn out to be as strong a wolf as you are a woman.’

‘It’s OK, Mum.’

‘Well, not every mother is perfect.’

‘You are, most of the time.’ Tam grinned, just enjoying having her mother on the other end of the phone. It just seemed so incredibly strange to be doing something normal, well, almost normal, when her whole world had taken one seriously sharp turn into weirdness of late.

‘Tamriel. Something is going to happen. I don’t know what, but it’s big. I can feel it, and my instincts are always right. It’s going to be dangerous. So I want you to be really careful. Don’t go by yourself; make sure you have back-up. And trust implicitly that your father won’t be far away.’

‘Mum, I can barely believe that Dad’s alive, let alone near me.’

‘Sweetheart, he had to go away, it was for the best. Not just for us, but for the race, the Kingdom. Had you have been older, maybe we would have told you, but at the time you were so innocent. Whatever it is you’re going to do, just be sure that when you need him most, your father will be there. And trust the people you have with you; the pack are everything, after all. I know each of them would have put their life on the line to save your father and I have no doubt they will do the same for you.’

Tam rolled her eyes; it truly wasn’t such a surprise that her mother was Wiccan, she was always full of this cryptic crap, and she never gave a straight answer. But then, at least she gave her some warning. Small mercies.

‘Mum, I’m going to go now, but I’ll call you tomorrow?’

‘No you won’t, but I will see you in a few days!’

‘OK, Mum! You clearly know best!’ Tam couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Love you.’

‘Love you too, honey, and remember, you know how to use your abilities; your father and I taught you when you were young, we just tried to be subtle about it. Just use your instincts.’

‘Sure thing, Mum. Love you, bye!’

‘Love you too, bye!’

Tam hung the phone up, suddenly very aware that she hadn’t actually told her mother anything that she’d phoned her to say, but for some reason, she was absolutely certain that her mother already knew. Come to think of it, that woman had always been two steps ahead of her at all times.

She wanted to be sure her mother would stay safe though. In dangerous times like these, she didn’t want the Council to go through her mother to get to her, so she needed to keep information and details to a minimum.

Trust that when you need him most, your father will be there.

Her words stuck in her mind, but that was ridiculous, right? Her father had been absent for well over a decade, and no one knew where he was; all they knew was that he was undercover with the Circle, and that could be anywhere. Plus, she was being hunted by the Council, the very people that were supposed to enforce good in the Kingdom; the very people her father supposedly worked for. Life was weird.

Tamriel and Sapphire sat around the small kitchen table sipping their tea slowly; they’d been in the cottage for only a day and already they were bored stiff.

They’d been training all morning; Sapphire had been well aware of her Wiccan heritage all her life and had learnt to control it; she just hadn’t told anyone about it because the Council would no doubt feel threatened by it.

Looking at the strict punishment Tam herself was facing, simply because she had a second set of abilities she hadn’t known about it, she was truly astonished that Saph had even come forward with the information about their mothers being sisters, and the reason for her ‘kinetic abilities’, as Saph called them.

Julian had agreed not to report the other half of their heritage, as had Carl. But if they’d decided to go to the Council?

Well, needless to say, Sapphire was incredibly brave for sharing the information, and Tam was honoured that she was kind enough to help her learn how to control this bizarre power she’d apparently been born with.

As far as she could gather, the ability she’d inherited from her mother allowed her to control magic or the natural energy in the air.

According to Saph, there was energy everywhere, the energy of life, of nature, and Wiccans could harness that energy, tap into it, and manipulate it.

The difference between magi and Wiccans basically was that magi had the power to create energy so they didn’t need to tap into nature, making them far more powerful and their magic more deadly.

It also meant they were far more susceptible to being swayed to the ‘dark path’, as Sapphire liked to call it. Magi and Wiccans who walked the ‘light path’, only harnessed the energy they needed from nature, and used it for good. They lived their lives by the rule of threefold, which in a proverbial nutshell meant anything they used their power for returned to them threefold. Which obviously meant that they were generally completely against using their powers for self-gain or for evil.

The ‘dark path’ was where magi and Wiccans who chose to harness the power of life for their rituals; it was essentially blood magic. Life was the most powerful energy around, and magi who created energy and walked the ‘dark path’ could harness the energy of someone else’s life if they killed them; giving their magic, spell or ritual far more power than could ever be created or tapped into.

It was all a bit much, but Tam got the gist of it all. She was supposed to be able to use ‘the power of the earth’ to her benefit, but she just couldn’t work out how to do it. It was so hard to control.

Sapphire was amazing; when they had first started training in the garden of the small cottage, she’d tried to show her how to make energy dance across her fingertips, the small sparks rippling out of her skin and caressing the air.

Tam had tried to ‘centre herself’ and harness the ‘energy of nature’, but it just didn’t work for her. She’d been furious with her lack of control and ended up generating a bolt of energy in a fit of anger that damn near burnt down the big oak tree in the garden.

‘Tam?’ Sapphire looked at her.

‘Sorry, what?’

‘Lost in our thoughts, were we?’ Saph chuckled, sipping her tea.

‘Just frustrated.’

‘Don’t worry about it, hon, your ability is fuelled by emotion, and anger is pretty strong as far as emotions go, so it’s not surprising that it’s what triggers your kinetic ability.’

‘But I can’t control it.’

‘You will be able to. Let’s try another way. I’m going to put this coaster in the middle of the table. Now I want you to centre yourself…’ Tam couldn’t help but roll her eyes; she just didn’t understand how you were supposed to do it.

‘T
am
! Focus. Look at the coaster, its ugly and it’s disrupting your view of this lovely table here. You hate it. Hate the coaster. You want it to move… You really want it to just slide right off the table.’

Tamriel huffed, but did as she was asked.

She channelled all her boredom, her anger at the Council and the situation she was in and focused it on the ugly coaster. That stupid piece of cardboard was the reason she was here and not with Leyth. Its stupid flowery pattern was keeping her from her life and her lover.

She hated that coaster!

Tam clenched her teeth and flicked a hand out towards it…

Abruptly heat flared at her core; it wasn’t the heat of her wolf, it was something entirely different but equally as powerful. It sent jolts of energy tingling through her flesh, rolling their way from the very fibre of her, through her flesh, her body and down her arms, reverberating its way to the tips of her fingers.

Tiny blue sparks shot out of her fingers, reminding her oddly of the blue flames she’d seen on her hands back in the courtyard on the leas, the same flickering heat that rippled through her when she’d been arguing with Leyth.

Lord, the pain that stung her when she thought of her male only made her angrier. She’d thought she’d been going mad when she saw those flames but no, it was this ‘kinetic’ ability her mother had so kindly refused to tell her about. God, she hated this place, this situation. She hated that she was only now, at twenty-three, learning about herself and her abilities.

And she hated that ugly coaster.

The striking blue energy flowed freely from her hands, the little sparks like flames, caressing her fingers and raining over the table, scarring the wood where it landed. The coaster flew across the table’s surface and clattered onto the floor, ablaze in an eerie blue flame.

‘Guys. We need to talk about what we’re going to do now. We need to start making money somehow.’ Carl marched in with his laptop, ignoring the discarded, smouldering coaster and Tamriel’s giddy grin at her abilities as he plopped himself down on one of the chairs surrounding the table.

Already he looked like a different wolf; his grey hair had some bounce to it, his skin had more colour, and the bags under his eyes were slowly disappearing following a good night’s sleep.

‘Well, what can we do? I’m not working in some coffee shop or bar.’ Saph played with her hair and grimaced.

‘We could work for the police? It’s a bit like what we do now only, safer?’ Carl suggested.

‘Tam, how did you find Alison?’

‘I, ah, I found the spots of blood on the floor and followed them to the building. There was a hatch in the floor that led into the basement.’

‘You were a reporter, right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So your investigation skills are top-notch?’ Sapphire questioned.

‘Well, yeah, I have got a nose for it,’ Tam chuckled.

‘So the police would really be an option, all of us could stay working together that way.’

‘Yeah, but there are entry exams and training, I’m not sure we’d get through.’

‘Why not? We’d be good at it.’

‘Yes, but it takes time, and what if they’re not hiring?’

Tam chewed on this for a little while. God, she hadn’t thought about what she was going to do when this was all over. She would like to go back into investigative journalism, yet it probably wasn’t such a good idea; it was just a little too high-profile and with her current situation, she needed to stay under the radar. The problem was, the idea of having a desk job, with no hunt, no drive to find the story, the evidence hidden beneath, seemed like hell to her.

What could she do that would keep her under the radar, but gave her the opportunity to investigate Kent’s deepest and darkest secrets?

‘Is there not a private investigators firm near here we can look into?’

‘I don’t know, but PIs are notoriously picky about who they work with. It’s a shame because that would be a perfect idea.’

‘The Council have a private investigation agency, you know.’ Carl grinned. ‘Shame we can’t apply to work with them.’ He laughed. ‘Bunch of controlling bastards, probably wouldn’t have let us anyway; it’s not our “race’s role”, after all.’