Pretty Little Werewolf, #1, page 18
“You can’t help, pup.” Jeffrey emerged from his den, wearing what must have passed for clothes for him – holey sweat pants that were well past their prime and hardly covered a thing, topped by a shirt so stained it was impossible to tell what the original color must have been. He looked everything like what she expected a hobo to be. “Not your business at all what happened to Christina.”
Despite all attempts to remain stoic, at the mention of her sister’s name more tears streamed down Martina’s cheek. “Please stop saying her name.”
“I’ll not pretend she’s gone, because she ain’t!” Jeffrey’s voce carried more conviction than it had before.
“What do you mean, she’s not?” Martina asked.
“She’s here. Just inside. But you won’t like what you see. Tell her, Giselle.”
Martina looked up, shocked at Jeffrey. “Tell her what?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know. Your father and that old bastard Thrace...”
“My father did all he could to protect us from—”
Anger gave power to Jeffrey’s voice, something reminiscent of the former glory that wolf might have had. He snarled at Martina, “Your father sacrificed your sister to save face.”
If Martina’s eyes grew any wider they’d have burst from their sockets. “My father...” Her voice trailed off as if she were struck silent with a realization she didn’t want to admit.
“Yes.” Jeffrey sounded more the Alpha now that Martina. He stared her down, anger and pain filling his eyes. “I watched the whole thing.”
The cars that had been slowly rumbling towards them pulled to a stop, and Damien hopped out first. “Giselle,” he shouted, head darting around as he searched with weak human eyes in the dark to find her.
“I’m here,” Giselle called back to him, attempting to conceal the pain in her voice.
He was at her side in an instant, her knight in flannel armor. “What the hell were you thinking? When I got that text... Thank the Goddess! I’m so happy to see you.” His eyes darted all over, visually inspecting her, and stopping every so often as if seeing something a little more interesting.
“Eyes up top, mister.” Downplaying her injuries, she attempted to laugh, but that only made her hurt worse.
“Sorry. Just making sure you’re all right.” He blushed, and thanks to her wolfy night vision, she caught the flush on his cheeks. If she’d been in a better mood, it would have melted her heart.
“That’s the question of the night,” she huffed, too much in pain to force out a laugh. “Yes. I’m fine. I haven’t gone mental or anything, and my wounds will heal soon. Don’t worry.”
Martina looked confused, casting furtive glances at Damien, but still trying to maintain her focus on Jeffrey. “Did you call the witch here?” The question had been clearly directed at Giselle, but another woman answered before she could.
“The witch has a name,” the woman, stepping out of a van answered sharply. “My son tells me we are needed here. It’s a matter of life or death?”
Martina turned to address the woman. “Jasmine? It’s been far too long.”
“So, is everyone old friends here?” Giselle asked. “Because this is going to get pretty confusing if not.”
“All people of supernatural heritage are supposed to announce themselves. Common courtesy. So, yes, we are acquainted. But I’m still confused as to why we’re all here.” Jasmine stepped forward and offered her hand to Martina. “It has been too long.”
Behind her, a group of people – witches, Giselle assumed – stood close to their vehicles. Probably waiting for their leader to give an order. The sheer number of them made Giselle a bit nervous. Things could go really well, or terribly, utterly wrong. She hoped for the former.
Jasmine and Martina grasped hands in a very business like manner, neither of them looking as if they were too happy to be doing so, but there was no outward animosity between them. More like annoyance for having the meeting forced on them.
Giselle could see where Damien got his puppy-dog eyes. Jasmine had the kind of look that would probably make any man melt, and a body to match. Tall and slender, she floated rather than walked as she came to meet Giselle. She knelt down, eye level, and offered her hand again. “I’ve heard nice things about you, lone wolf. Let’s make sure they all stay nice.”
Was that a warning? She looked to Damien, who simply shrugged and smiled.
“I should kill you all for trespassing on my land.” Jeffrey called attention back to himself, trying again to regain his dominance. “None of you are welcome here.”
The witches didn’t take to kindly to Jeffrey’s posturing. They began to come forward, as a pack, toward their leader Jasmine. She held out her hand and stopped them in their tracks. “Answers first, please. Why are we here?”
“No need for hostility, Jeffrey.” Martina found her Alpha voice again. “Giselle has a purpose for bringing us here tonight and we’re going to let it play out.” Martina nodded to Giselle.
She needed to find the strength and get up to say her piece. More than that, she needed to get Jeffrey to bring out Christina. That, more than her words, would reveal the truth.
But before she could find that strength and stand, the wolves that had been howling in the distance began to arrive, coming from both sides. The Thrace family was large – ten wolves had come. Giselle wasn’t sure which one was Asher, as they were all dark in color, but she was sure he was in the pack. On the other side were Gavin, the white wolf, and the two girls running at full speed to Martina’s side.
“Well, the gang’s all here.” The power and pride in Jeffrey had faded at the sight of so many more wolves. He huffed and frustrated kicked the dirt. “Let’s get whatever this is on the road...”
Giselle mustered the strength to stand. Damien stood with her to provide additional support. “Bring her out, Jeffrey. Show everyone what became of Christina, and see if we can’t end this stupidity.”
Martina turned on Giselle. “He really does have Christina?”
Giselle nodded, but before she could answer, Mr. Thrace shifted. “There had better be a damn good reason I was called out here.” One of his pack members dropped a sack of clothes, and he began to pull on a pair of slacks.
Giselle would have laughed if it didn’t hurt so much to move. The thought of an Alpha like him wearing business slacks in the desert was a bit absurd. But she waited patiently for him to dress before she continued.
“Some years ago, your fathers arranged a marriage. One that, for obvious reasons, failed.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Mr. Thrace said, and turned an angry eye on one of his wolves. “This is what I had to see? Some kid spouting off about things she couldn’t possibly understand.”
“You will let her speak, Nathaniel!” Martina’s hands were already balling at her sides. She stared down Mr. Thrace like a bull seeing red.
“I don’t have to listen to any of this, and I will hold you and your pack responsible for—“ Nathaniel Thrace had not even gotten the word out before Gavin stepped up, growling at Martina’s side. She too looked ready to shift and fight; Giselle could see hair already sprouting on the back of her neck and shoulders.
“You want a fight, Thrace? Just say the word and we’ll settle things like wolves.” Martina was positively scary when she went full Alpha.
A wolf shifted into Asher.
“Father, for once in your life, father, listen to someone else talk.”
“How dare you speak out against me?” Nathaniel Thrace’s hand cocked back for a smack that never landed. Jeffrey, moving at a speed Giselle never thought possible, grabbed it before Mr. Thrace could swing.
“Why don’t you let the pups explain? Seems to me they’re a bit more in the know than you think.” He nodded to Giselle.
“And I should listen to you, why?” Mr. Thrace snarled and tried to pull his arm free, but Jeffrey held tight.
“Because I’ll break this arm if I see it fly again without cause.”
“Strong words, Lone Wolf. You can’t back them up without a pack.”
“Care to try me?” Jeffrey growled under his breath. He didn’t need to say it, but he had the power of Martina and her pack on his side.
Tension ran thick. Even the witches stepped back in apprehension of a full-on wolf fight. Giselle had intended to bring an end to all the blind rage and fighting between these packs, but the way things were going, they’d all annihilate themselves before the night was over. Everyone looked one hair’s breadth from tearing each other into pieces.
“Stop fighting!” Giselle yelled loud enough for her words to echo off the mountain walls. She winced in pain, not realizing how much it took out of her to do that. But she had the attention of everyone at that moment, and the sudden weight of all eyes fell on her. She hesitated, not quite knowing what to say now that they were listening. The murderous glare Mr. Thrace was giving her made her want to shrink back down into the creek where she’d been lying a few moments before. Asher left his father’s side and came to join Giselle. He put an arm around her, and that small gesture gave her more strength than she could have hoped for. With a deep breath, she found her voice again. “Look. I’m not going to mince words. All parties here tonight are part of what happened. Part of what started this war, or whatever you want to call it.”
The witches mumbled and whispered amongst themselves. Jasmine looked sharply at her son.
Damien spoke up. “Yes, our family too. Listen up. All we want is to make things right.” He turned back towards Giselle. “Keep going, you’ve got their attention.”
The show of support from both Damien and Asher worked wonders on her nerves, and even though she was still struggling to keep the pain from her voice, she held her head high and continued. “You’ve both been at war for years thinking the other side had wronged you, when in fact, both of your parents are the cause. The alliance and marriage were all just for show. None of it was necessary for peace. Just be at peace. How hard is that? The fact is, your parents couldn’t see past their own pride, and when the marriage idea failed, they started a war instead. All the lives lost since them are a testament to the stupidity of fighting. I brought you all here, with the help of your children, who are not blinded by pride, to see if we can’t change the course of the future of our families. We all live here. We all have to find a way to be at peace.”
“Eloquent word for someone like you,” Mr. Thrace said, but the spite in his voice was still there.
She wasn’t surprised by the backhanded compliment and returned the favor in kind. “Prejudice is your problem, sir. You seem to think everyone is beneath you. Try being less of a bigot.”
He looked like he wanted to pounce on her and finish the job Jeffrey had started, but held his ground.
“Make your point, pup, before my patience has run its course.”
“I wasn’t aware you had any patience.” Giselle knew she shouldn’t have said it the moment the words left her lips, but couldn’t have stopped herself even if she’d thought about it ahead of time.
Nathaniel Thrace lunged forward, but before he could get anywhere near Giselle, Martina shifted and pounced on him. Asher threw himself in front of Giselle, and Damien grabbed hold of her and held her back.
When the dust had settled, Asher had regained his wolf form and was standing guard while Martina held a paw on Mr. Thrace’s chest.
Gavin stood at Thrace’s head, growling, teeth ready to snap should Martina give a signal. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing near straight, and he looked just as rabid as Jeffrey had earlier when Giselle had been in that same vulnerable position.
“I brought you here for peace... Stop fighting. Stop being assholes. Just... stop!” Giselle’s pain sharpened her voice. Damien held her tightly still, and though she was sure he didn’t mean to cause her more pain, he was pressing down on her wounds.
He let go as if he knew and took a step back.
Giselle looked at Jeffrey. “Can you please... just bring Christina out?”
Jeffrey shrugged and walked toward the mouth of the cave. “Little help,” he grunted, but didn’t turn back to see if anyone was coming.
Gavin took the hint and trotted behind Jeffrey, and Asher followed too. The three men, working together, slowly pushed the wolf statue out.
That was it. The missing piece to the puzzle, and the moment it came into view, aggression melted away into awe. Martina stepped off Nathaniel and shifted back to her human form. She retrieved what remained of her clothes that had been shredded by her quick shift moments before and tossed them on. Cautiously, as if afraid, she walked over to the statue, mouth hanging open in disbelief. “She looks... so real.”
Words failed Mr. Thrace as well. He stood slowly, dusting off his trousers and shirt, and then walked around the statue twice before finally speaking. “And you are certain this is Christina?”
“There is only one way we’ll be sure.” Giselle nodded to Damien.
He took the hint and left Giselle’s side to return to his family.
“Only someone who cast this kind of spell could reverse it,” Giselle began. “We have no way of knowing who did that, but we hope that as our three families are tied to this, that someone may come forward to assist.”
She waited as the witches conversed with each other. Gavin shifted and pulled Martina into his arms. She’d held back her emotions for so long, but now the dam burst and the Alpha was sobbing loudly into her husband’s chest.
Jeffrey walked over to Giselle. “No matter what happens... you did a good thing, pup.”
“So, you won’t try to kill me again?” she asked.
He looked her over. Blood had soaked through the blanket she was wearing, and the old wolf’s face slacked. “I’m sorry. I truly am. Will you forgive me?”
She should hate him for what he’d done. If he’d been a normal human being, an act like this would have been child abuse. He’d be sent to prison. But the supernatural world worked differently. She could be mad, but she had also been given ample warning. She nodded at the old wolf. “I understand why you did it. Defending your territory is your right. Just remember that we’re human too. Try using words before teeth.”
“Spoken like a true Alpha. I think you’ll make a good one someday.”
Giselle wasn’t so sure about that, but she was well past arguing anymore. She desperately wanted this whole thing to be done with. Blood loss was making her weak and dizzy. What she needed most was rest. But the witches had not yet come to any decisions.
Asher’s father still looked positively murderous. Asher had walked over to talk to him, but the old wolf said nothing in return. She met the Alpha’s eyes briefly and felt his anger, but there was no point in pointing out to him that it was all his doing. He could be a good leader without being a tyrannical prick. And for the first time she admitted to herself that if she had to choose a pack, she was glad she had been placed with Martina.
Finally, when Giselle was beginning to lose all hope, the witches came forward. Jasmine spoke for them. “Rather than reveal the person responsible, we will all join together as one voice to lift the spell.”
That was music to her ears. Giselle smiled at Damien, and he in turn winked back at her. No doubt he’d put every ounce of his charm into helping his coven make the right decision. The more time she spent with him, the more she liked that boy. And though she’d tried to ignore it, his affection for her had been genuine right from the start. She looked over at Asher, the hot wolfboy, standing au naturel as many wolves seemed to be comfortable with, and despite his good looks, couldn’t find the same affection for him as she’d developed for the witch. Sure he was hot; there was no denying that. But he’d been so aloof. So distant. Even when he’d kissed her, the moment was gone before she could enjoy it.
He must have felt her eyes on him. Asher looked back at her but remained stoic, standing next to his father.
Too bad.
The witches surrounded the wolf statue and began a slow chant, something in another language. She couldn’t understand the words, but there was poetry there in the way they spoke. A natural rise and fall, almost like music. As they joined hands, their chants became synchronized as if only one person was speaking with many voices.
Eager to see a real spell in progress, Giselle kept her eyes locked on the statue. She hoped to see flashes of light or sparks or fairy dust... something extraordinary, but nothing even close to what happened.
As if waking from a dream, the statue lost its marble sheen, and the rock faded dully into fur. Slowly, with the sound of popping bone, the wolf began to move. First the head, then a paw, and finally, the poor thing collapsed on the ground.
“Give her a moment,” Jasmine said. “She’s been frozen for some time. She’ll take a bit to warm up.”
No one moved at first, whether in fear or from shock, but Jeffrey was not taking the warning to heart. He knelt down next to the wolf lying sleepily on the ground. “My darling, wake up.”
Giselle held her breath, waiting with anticipation. The wolf did not move for several minutes. What if the spell had failed? Giselle’s heart seized up at the thought of it. She’d never considered that as a possibility and held her breath, praying that wasn’t the case.
Jeffrey stroked her fur lovingly, tears of joy spilling unchecked down his cheek, and whispered softly in her ears. “Thank you. Thank you. Oh... thank you.”
Then she shifted. The fur faded, and a woman, young, with long dark hair, took shape. She moaned groggily and stretched her arms before sitting up.
“Christina?” Martina whispered cautiously, as if the woman in front of her might disappear if she spoke too loudly.
The young woman turned to face her sister. She was an exact copy of Martina, only younger. “Sister?” Christina said.
Martina joined Jeffrey at her side and pulled her sister in to a hug. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“What happened?” Christina asked, eyes near bulging as she took in the sight of wolves and witches all around her. “Who are all these people?”
