A Wolf of Her Own (16 page)

The air around the humans worsened with every hostile comment, becoming a bad taste in Gemma’s mouth. She upped her shields, but it helped only a little. An oily residue seemed to cling to her face and she made to brush it away before pleading with them again.

"Losing sheep is horrible, but rushing headlong to revenge won’t help," she said, as calmly as she could. Her Rider was oddly tense inside her, not trying to push against its restraints. It was expectant, preparing for violence. Should the humans attack, she wouldn’t have any way of controlling it. She knew that with absolute certainty and it terrified her.

"What do you know about it, a posh lass like you?"

Apparently she was doomed to be always dressed wrong. "My sheep were killed too." That silenced the crowd. "I’m Gemma Byrd, Tom’s sister."

"And you stand there all casual-like?" Mr Martin demanded incredulous. "Weren’t it your sheep that were killed the last time too? You of all people should be demanding they leave."

Gemma’s entire body went cold. Their sheep had been killed only once and it hadn’t been done by wolf-shifters. "When was it?" Maybe there had been another incident she hadn’t been told about.

"In 1893." He answered like he had memorised it.

She felt sick. Mother. "I can assure you our sheep have never been killed by wolves."

"Yes they were. My granddad told me he had been to see the carcasses. All torn into. What else could it have been but wolves?"

Gemma pressed a hand tightly to her mouth to ward off the nausea. "Was the clan actually blamed for it?"

"Who else could it have been? Anyway, the farmers formed a hunt."

"And they killed someone?" Her bones threatened to turn liquid. It was her family’s fault Colm was dead.

"Yes, a wolf found lurking just outside your property. And no sheep have been killed since."

Of course they hadn’t. Her mother was dead too. As was the man who had protected him from her. How could she ever face Kieran again, knowing she was partly responsible?

Philippa tried to veer the conversation back to the present. "We have a picture of the true killers. Perhaps you could take a look and see if you recognise them?" She took the picture out and the people gathered around her to look at it. They all shook their heads.

"Doesn’t look like any wolves I’ve ever met."

"That’s because they’re not local wolf-shifters. They’re here to cause trouble between us and the manor," Gemma explained. Keeping her mind on the matter at hand was the only way she was able to function.

"And how do you know they’re the right ones?"

Gemma sighed. It was as if the neighbours wilfully ignored the truth. "Because I smelt them." Blank stares met her. "Vampire sense of smell is far superior to human, you know."

The humans all withdrew a little. It was subtle, but perceptible. Fear scented the air, adding to the foulness already there. Her shields were as tight as she could make them now, but it didn’t seem to help at all.

"We don’t want your kind here," Mr Martin stated.

Gemma wanted to cry, of disappointment and frustration. "I went to school with your grandmother, Mr Martin." She had been a human child once. "And my family has been friends with your family for a long time. We’re sheep farmers like you, and we’ve suffered at the hands of these strange wolves like you have. I deserve to be listened to as much as you do."

Her words had no effect. If anything, they made the people angrier and they tightened their ranks. The air around them got so bad she was having trouble operating properly. She couldn’t breathe and she was starting to panic for no reason. She wanted to flee.

"Very well," Philippa said, clearly judging it was no point continuing. "Here’s my number. Call me if you see the men in that picture."

They returned to their car, all but fleeing, and drove off. Gemma turned to look through the rear window and saw the group in the yard staring after them. Their stances were hostile and she feared the worst.

"That was really odd."

Philippa frowned. "This is worse than merely odd. I have to warn the Circle immediately."

"Forget the Circle. We have to go warn Jamie." Gemma had no doubt. Those humans would head to the manor and she needed to stop it. One clan member had already died because of her. She wouldn’t allow that to happen again.

Chapter Seventeen

Kieran and Jasper found the killing site easily. The pasture didn’t have a handy grove in which to hide the carcasses, so they were in plain sight in the middle of the meadow, ten in all.

"They weren’t even pretending this is anything but a kill for a killing’s sake," Kieran said, disgusted. The ground around the sheep was red with blood, and a strong stench of intestines filled the air. "Shifters are like natural wolves in that we only kill what we eat." These wolves hadn’t even pretended to eat the sheep; they had just torn them open.

Jas nodded. "This time they made sure the farmers will react. Come, let’s see where the fuckers went."

"I’ll have to shift first." Kieran made to remove his blazer, but paused when Jas shook his head.

"I wouldn’t do that." Kieran got his hackles up instantly and the vampire lifted his hands in a placating gesture. "You really don’t want there to be wolf tracks or smell that indicate your clan’s presence here. These people may well hire an outside tracker."

"Don’t you think I smell enough like clan as it is?"

"Oh, I think you stink to gods."

"Hey!" The vampire just grinned and pointed for them to get on their way.

The wolves—two males and a female—had left a clear trail for them to follow. It didn’t weave, didn’t try to fool the trackers, but cut a straight line across the countryside. After a few miles, it was pretty evident, too, where the track would lead.

"Fuck. They really intend to stick this on our clan."

"And should human police follow the trace with dogs, you would be blamed for it too. Luckily we have Philippa on it." Jas’s voice softened with pride. His emotion made sense, but Kieran was amazed that it belonged to such a fierce warrior.

"Do you have anything like our call to pull couples together?"

His question startled the warrior, probably the only thing that would. "Yeah. We have the
Hunger
. But it’s temporary and usually only the male vampires experience it. It’s meant to counter our violent tendencies."

"The Rider?"

"Ah, the little vampire has spilled the beans?"

"It’s a secret?" Kieran felt curiously satisfied Gemma had told her.

"Yes and no. It’s good she told you so that it won’t come as a surprise."

"So it’ll get free?" Despite Gemma’s genuine worry, he couldn’t really see how it would be a threat.

"Only if she lets it." Which meant constant control of emotions if she didn’t want to.

He got instantly worried for her. He didn’t like that she was on her own without him by her side. What if she couldn’t control the Rider among all this excitement? That he couldn’t deal with it now because of taking care of the clan enemy first added to his aggravation. He tried to counter it by reminding himself that she had Philippa with her. The small vampire detective seemed determined enough to keep anyone’s Rider in check. Gemma would be all right.

She had to be.

He needed something else to focus on. "You were wrong about thinking that it was your enemy behind this. It was ours." But he had been wrong too, believing humans would be responsible. It was so easy for him to blame humans. Always had been.

"So who are they?"

"It’s this rundown clan north of London. They hire themselves out as mercs. We had a run-in with them last autumn. I thought the clan had been dismantled, but I guess I was wrong."

"Or they’re a new faction gone on their separate way to continue the business. Either way, they may well be working for our enemy."

"Makes as much sense as anything—fuck." The curse was because he had stepped into a muddy puddle. "I really should have gone as a wolf."

"Or worn more practical clothes," Jas grinned. "The problem with you pretty boys is that you don’t know how to dress for work."

"I know how to dress for work," Kieran huffed. He shook his foot to remove the water, but abandoned the task as useless. "I simply didn’t dress for this particular work." His expensive leather boots squelching, he hiked halfway across Epsom to the edge of the clan estate, where their prey had got into a car.

"Fuck. Well, Pippa has the licence plate number. She’ll find them in no time."

Kieran shook his head. "I can’t wait that long." He dug out his mobile and called Jamie, who had been waiting for the call ever since he’d informed him about the identity of the killers. "Their track led straight to our estate but not inside. I’ll follow their car for as long as I’m able to. Did you manage to catch anyone of the bastard clan?"

"Nope. Either they’ve dismantled or they’re all here. So no solo missions. When you find them you’ll contact me. Is that clear?" Kieran grunted in answer and switched off. Then he peeled off his clothes, bundled them, and shoved them to a surprised Jas.

"Hold onto these so that I won’t be accused of public indecency twice in the same day. Come on." He was running even before his shift was complete.

They could run fast as a wolf, but the vampire could easily keep up. They didn’t need to slow down to sniff the tracks. There was only one direction the car could have gone.

They only paused when the lane split to two directions, one branch leading to the town and the other to an abandoned farm. They weren’t really surprised that the car had headed to the farm. They sped on, the vampire at their side. After a mile and a half they slowed down, knowing the farm would emerge behind the next bend. They got off the road and into the overgrown hedges and approached, hiding themselves, until they could see into the yard.

Two cars were parked outside the house, the one they had been tracking, and the other the one from the country club. They retreated and shifted. Jas handed him his clothes.

"Found them."

"It’s a trap," the vampire stated, irritating Kieran.

"Of course it’s a fucking trap. And I intend to spring it."

"Alone?"

"I’ve got you here, haven’t I?"

A slow smile spread on Jas’s face. "My kind of operation. How do you want to play it?"

Gemma’s plans to warn the clan weren’t going well. No one would answer at the number she had for them and now she couldn’t get into the estate. She was driving Kieran’s car, the keys trusted to her so that he wouldn’t have to return for it. That alone should have given her a free pass.

She had been so sure she would simply drive through the gate that she had come alone. Philippa and Adrian had headed to the local police station to check up on the lead they had about the car. Now she wished that Philippa with her police ID was here after all.

The main entrance had been the closest access point to the estate, an imposing, well-guarded electronic gate two miles from the manor itself, so she had chosen it. She was beginning to regret her decision. "I’m sorry, but we’re in a lockdown until further notice," the young wolf guarding the gate said firmly.

"That’s why I’m here," she said, exasperated. "I have information for Jamie that he needs to hear immediately."

"No one’s seeing the alpha unannounced, especially vampires."

That was helpful. "I’m working with Kieran Garret on this." Didn’t the boy recognise Kieran’s car? "I’m Gemma Byrd, from the Byrd farm."

The guard remained adamant. She was older and probably more dominant than him, and could have forced him to let her in, but that kind of grandstanding required help from her Rider. It had been oddly quiet since the Martin farm, the strange atmosphere getting to it as much as her. She wasn’t sure she could rely on it—or that she was collected enough to put it back once it was done.

"Could you please at least inform Jamie that an angry mob of humans is about to head this way and they seek blood?"

The boy sneered. "They won’t get past this gate."

His stubbornness made her anger boil over. "They don’t need to get past it to shoot you. Just make the fucking call."

She marched back into the car in a huff and tried the official contact number for the clan again without a result. She was getting desperate. She knew she wasn’t actually responsible for Colm’s death; she had been only eight years old and afraid. But her heart kept telling her that if she hadn’t hidden in the pigsty where Mother couldn’t smell her, Mother wouldn’t have taken her wrath out on the sheep. Then the humans wouldn’t have hunted for the killer and Colm would be alive.

Angry with herself and the world, she started the car and stamped on the accelerator. The feisty Jaguar jumped and swerved violently, and only her vampire reflexes kept the car on the narrow lane. Chastised, she drove home more carefully, if not at a more sedate pace. She was in a hurry.

At the farm she rushed in, changed into practical clothes and shoes she could run in, and got back out in a record time. Then she started running towards the forest that separated the farm from the manor as fast as she could.

This is what you’ve wanted, isn’t it?
she said to her Rider.
A chance to flex your strength.
Now show me how fast I can run.

She had barely finished the thought when her entire body quickened with a surge of Might. Her step lengthened even as she became more surefooted. Her eyesight sharpened. She could detect roots and low-hanging tree branches faster than she would have thought possible. Avoiding them was child’s play. She felt invigorated and powerful, like she could run forever without tiring. And for once she didn’t try to stifle the feeling.

In no time at all, she was at the wall. She ran along it, hidden by the forest, until she came to the huge tree she had used for getting over the wall when she was a child. It had a branch that stretched over the wall that had been perfect for a little girl. But she was bigger now, and she eyed it warily. Would the branch still hold her?

You know, you’re a vampire. Why don’t you just jump?