A Wolf of Her Own (17 page)

Her Rider’s sarcastic tone made Gemma blush. Why not indeed? She wasn’t a human child anymore. Hadn’t been for over a century. Maybe it was time she accepted that. The height of the wall made her hesitate though. She had never tried anything similar. But she was in a hurry and so, before she had second thoughts, she sped up and jumped, reaching up with her arms as she took off the ground.

Her hands met the crest of the wall easily and she pulled herself up and over. The landing wasn’t as graceful, but at least she didn’t fall on her face.

"Halt!"

Gemma’s entire body froze for a heartbeat. Then she realised the voice behind her belonged to a child and she turned around, lifting her hands up. "Oh-oh. I’ve been caught."

"Yes you have, and you’re now my prisoner," Vincent declared, pleased. "State your business, trespasser."

Playing games was all good and fun, but Gemma didn’t really have time for them. "Look, Vincent, I need to see Jamie instantly."

"I’m afraid that’s not possible. No one just marches in here to see our alpha." If she hadn’t been in a hurry, she would have found the echo of Kieran’s words—and his stance—funny.

"It’s a matter of life and death."

"Really?" the boy asked, delighted, clearly thinking this was a game. "But it still isn’t possible."

"Why not? I’m not really the enemy, you know." She’d only got the boy’s uncle killed. Nothing major.

"He’s not here. All the soldiers rushed somewhere really fast and wouldn’t tell me where," he said, peeved.

Gemma’s stomach constricted in fear and worry. Kieran must have found the wolves, and all the soldiers had headed out to deal with them. Not good. The humans were marching in and there was no one to defend the manor. "Who’s in charge, then?"

The boy thought it over. "Dad."

"Well, could I see him? Or better yet, could you call him?"

Vincent made a face. "I’m not allowed a mobile, on account of I might break it … but I only dropped Dad’s phone in the pond that one time!"

Gemma sighed. She didn’t have her mobile phone either. She had run off too fast to remember to take it with her. "I have really important information to tell to your father, so could we please go see him?"

We could charm him to obey.

No.

The boy got excited. "Okay. This way. I know a shortcut."

Chapter Eighteen

As far as traps went, this one was clumsy and obvious. Kieran and Jas did a wide-parameter search and found half a dozen cars hidden in a forest path behind the farm. Instead of five wolves, there could be closer to forty of them lying in wait, hidden in the outbuildings and the surrounding overgrown vegetation. The clan hadn’t split up after all, but had continued on their illegal path.

"I’d better get our soldiers here."

"You know, it would be foolish to have your entire force to come here. What if they want us to think they’re here? Most of them could be outside your estate wall, preparing to attack there the moment your soldiers leave the place," Jas pointed out, annoyingly reasonable. "I’ll call in a couple of our guys. We’ll soon have these bastards sorted out."

"This is our fight," Kieran growled, frustrated. He had been unable to go after the humans who’d killed Colm. He’d be damned if he’d be robbed of his chance to go after the bastards who had harmed his mate.

"It’s ours as much as it’s yours. Our sheep were killed too." Kieran had to acknowledge this, and he was smart enough to admit that Jas had centuries of experience in warfare and battle tactics, whereas he was an architect. His most useful skill was tracking and he had done his part.

Half an hour later, Jamie and a dozen of their best fighters gathered with ten Circle warriors where the lane branched. Gabriel and Zacharias Hamilton, two of Lord Foley’s sons, were among them, which meant that the Circle took the matter seriously. If their estimation of the enemy’s numbers was accurate, they were technically outnumbered, but Gabe alone could probably take half of them. Six foot seven of solid muscle aside, he was an old and seasoned vampire warrior with more than one trick up his sleeve.

Kieran wasn’t worried he wouldn’t be able to handle himself in the fight next to the clan soldiers and Circle warriors. Architect he may be, more accustomed to desk work, but all wolves were trained for defending the clan and he had practiced diligently. Moreover, he had managed fine against these fuckers the last time they clashed.

Their plan was simple. They would surround the farm in a wide circle to make sure the enemy couldn’t sneak in on them at the back, and close in until they engaged the enemy. Then they would fight.

It took them a while to get everyone in their places. From there, everything proceeded as planned. They tightened the siege, keeping their senses open for the enemy’s presence, but they were already at the edges of the farm buildings before Kieran smelt the first wolf. He looked to the men at his sides and nodded towards the shed where the scent was coming from. They nodded back and Matthew, on his right, crept in to take care of the matter.

The rest of the group moved on. Kieran paused at the corner of the shed and studied the yard from the shelter it offered. It was empty save the two cars, but he could sense the enemy wolves in the house and other buildings. That wasn’t good. They would have to draw them out or risk fighting them indoors.

And who would be better for that than the wolf they had already fought with once.

Kieran didn’t wait for the approval from the others. He abandoned his shelter and walked to the middle of the yard, casually as if out for a stroll. Dressed as he was, he judged the enemy would be confused by his presence; maybe they’d even come out to see what he wanted.

He judged wrong.

A shot rang out and found its mark. The fight started.

Aidan Garret was a mix of his two brothers. An epitome of a clan soldier, he had a neatly cut hair, auburn like Kieran’s, and a stocky body like Colm’s. He greeted her politely, not indicating in any way that he would think she was to blame for Colm’s death. Kieran hadn’t either, so it could be they didn’t know.

She couldn’t dwell on that now. They had more pressing matters to attend to first. Besides, if she managed to stop anyone else from being killed, perhaps it would make it easier to tell the truth to them later.

"You’re sure they’re about to march here?" Aidan demanded sharply. "I find lynch mobs unlikely in the modern world."

Gemma nodded. "I’d find it unlikely too, but…" She paused, considering her words so that she wouldn’t alarm Vince, who was observing them with bright, keen eyes. "They weren’t acting entirely on their own initiative." She didn’t know exactly what it was they had sensed, but the mere memory of that foul evil was enough to frighten her still. She shuddered.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I think they’ll come here whether they want or not. And they will be angry."

"Shi … p." Aidan glanced at his son, who rolled his eyes.

"Really, Dad, I’m not a baby anymore. I’ve heard worse words than—" A frown from his father made him think better. "Fine."

Gemma stifled a smile. "I’m much older than you are and I don’t swear either." If she could avoid it. Lately she had been slipping. As had her control over the Rider.

"But they’re just words," Vince complained.

She leaned over, though the gangly boy wasn’t that much shorter than her. "Words have power. Never forget that." He eyed her sceptically, but he didn’t contradict her. She straightened up to address Aidan. "I understand most of your soldiers are away?" Fighting the sheep killers. With Kieran.

Her worry for Kieran’s safety intensified. She tried to stifle it, the emotion too distracting, but nothing worked. His safety was too important for her. She wanted to be there with him, but she wasn’t a fighter. She would be more useful here.

"Yes. But we’re not defenceless. We have soldiers here too. Now, the humans are most likely to approach from the main gate…" He sank into his thoughts, planning the best course of action. "Vince, head home and stay with your mom."

"But
Daaad
. I can help. Look how good I did by bringing Gemma here."

"Yes, you did well, but now it’s time for you to do as I say." The boy grumbled, but obeyed. Aidan waited until his son was out of hearing. "Exactly who are we facing?"

"Old farmers and a few hot-headed men from the younger generation, basically. There were about a dozen of them when we visited Mr Martin’s farm, but they could have recruited more since then. But that’s not why I’m worried." She told about the foul sensation and Philippa’s reaction to it. "A circle warrior hinted that their old enemy might be behind everything. He wouldn’t elaborate, but if it’s someone the Circle is wary of, I think we should be too."

Aidan took out a phone and began making arrangements. Gemma listened to him in growing worry. "Are you sure that’s enough?" she asked, when he finished the call.

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Absolutely. We can handle a few humans, even if they’re under some magical influence."

"What if they’re armed?"

His face closed. "We can handle it."

"Couldn’t we call in some Circle warriors too?" They would know how to deal with the mystical evil.

"Absolutely not!" His face softened. "Look, why don’t you go to the manor and wait there for this to be over. It shouldn’t take long."

Gemma’s spine stiffened. "No." She expected a fight and let her resolve show on her face. Aidan regarded her for a few heartbeats. Then he nodded.

"Fine. But you’ll stay out of harm’s way."

Surprised that he would give in without a lecture on women’s place in the world—a default position of any old two-natured—she followed him into a car. He drove them the two miles to the main gate where men and women were already gathering to keep an eye out for the possible lynch mob.

The young guard saw her as they got out of the car and his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. She gave him a little wave, unable to resist teasing him. He blushed and then sulked, but at least he didn’t demand to know how she had got inside the estate.

The road outside the gate was empty. "I hope I haven’t got everyone worried for nothing," she muttered to herself, but Aidan heard her.

"I’d rather stand here for nothing than do nothing and have them surprise me. Look, you may be right, you may be wrong, and quite frankly, I’d rather you were wrong." Gemma nodded, not taking offence. It would be better all-around if the humans didn’t take action.

They chose a spot some yards away from the gate where they could see everything happening outside, but were out of immediate harm. She stayed next to Aidan on his request, keeping a worried eye on the road, until: "So … is there a reason why you smell like my brother?"

Gemma blushed, the question taking her by surprise. She glanced at Aidan, who was smiling warmly, as if it made him happy. "Yes, well, we’ve spent quite a lot of time together these past two days."

"That’s not it," he admonished her gently.

She shrugged, helplessly. "He says his wolf has put out a call for me."

Aidan’s face went blank and she feared the worst. Then a bright smile lit up his entire being and he grabbed her into a tight hug. "That’s wonderful!"

"It is?" She was having trouble breathing.

He put her back down, but he didn’t retreat. "Of course it is. I’ve waited for this to happen to him for a long time. You’ll make him happy."

She didn’t feel happy. "I’m not so sure about it."

That wiped the jubilant expression off his face. "Don’t you love him?"

She didn’t like upsetting him, but she couldn’t lie either. "I only met him yesterday. Of course I don’t love him." She liked him and fancied him, but love … didn’t that take time?

"Don’t vampires have anything similar to our call?"

"Yes we have the
Hunger
, though it’s mostly men who experience it. And it only leads to trouble."

"Yeah, it can do that." Not exactly a consoling statement.

A scout gave a signal, bringing the conversation to an end. Humans were approaching. "I really hoped I’d be wrong about this."

She could feel the humans before she smelt or saw them. The foul sensation preceded them and it had got worse. She upped her shields, but it didn’t help much. The wolves around her sensed it too. They got twitchy for no reason, their auras baring their teeth, growling silently.

It made her feel awful, but she couldn’t leave the wolves to deal with it. "Perhaps I should talk to them alone," she suggested to Aidan.

"Why?"

"I can shield myself against this sensation. You can feel it, can’t you?"

His face was set in grim lines. "Yes. Fine, but something tells me it won’t help." She was rather sure he was right. But she had to try.

A group of twenty or so humans approached the gate on foot. Though angry, they looked ordinary enough and there wasn’t a pitchfork in sight. She didn’t recognise all of them, but those she did, like old Mr Martin, weren’t acting like their normal selves. They weren’t sleepwalking exactly, or under hypnosis, but she had a notion that there was a presence operating them. And it was a malign one.

She walked to the closed gate and looked at the group through the bars. They paused a couple of yards from her and stood silently, staring at her with hostile but somehow empty eyes. They freaked her out.

If you can up the shields or do anything to keep that presence from influencing me, now would be a good time.

She had no idea what the Rider did, but the pressure on her eased a little. She didn’t dare to turn to the wolves to see how they were faring.

"Good afternoon." It couldn’t hurt to start with a pleasant tone. "How may I help you?"

"We want the sheep killers."

"And you shall have them. They are being apprehended as we speak." She saw no reason to deny them the pleasure of revenge outright.

"You’re harbouring them."

"No, I can assure you, they’re not here." But only blank stares met her words, as if she wasn’t getting through to them.