Code of the Wolf (27 page)

Someone laughed, and then he knew nothing more.

 

T
HE ROARING IN
Jacob's head slowly began to subside, and he became aware that everything around him had changed.

Even before he opened his eyes, he knew he was in the main house of the Quaker settlement. The smell of scorched wood was overwhelming, drowning all other scents, but he felt the presence of at least seven people in the room, most of them strangers, and heard the sounds of rapid breathing. Frightened Quakers and dangerous enemies.

But he couldn't move. He had been bound to a chair, his arms wrenched and tied behind the back of it and his ankles tied to its front legs.

He opened his eyes, already braced for what he would see. A man was perched on a backward chair directly in front of him, his legs astride the seat and his arms folded casually over the back.

Jacob knew him. His sense of smell might be compromised by all the smoke in the air, but he could never forget the face he'd glimpsed eight months before. Lafe Renier had helped kill Ruth. Her death had been only the end result of a petty war between a handful of Constantines and Reniers, but Jacob had never dreamed she'd be in any danger. He hadn't wanted to get involved.

In the end, he hadn't had any choice.

“Renier,” he croaked.

The man grinned lazily. “Constantine,” he said. “You've been a busy boy.”

Jacob tested the ropes. He could snap them easily enough, but Lafe Renier wasn't the only one of his clan in the room. There were five others, and behind Renier and against the wall stood Lester and Virgil, both pale and wan with fear. Jacob had no doubt that they would suffer if he struggled, though he had a pretty good idea that Virgil would deserve whatever he got.

The only good thing about any of this was that Serenity and the other women weren't there. He prayed that Serenity had gone to the river when she hadn't found him waiting where she'd left him.

“What are you doing here, Renier?” he asked calmly.

Lafe Renier leaned back, hooking his thumbs in his gun belt. “I'm surprised you thought we'd never find out you was after us,” he said. “Fact is, we expected it a long time ago. For a while there, we wondered if you'd
turned yellow.” His grin broadened. “Thought maybe you didn't put much value on your pretty human wife.”

Jacob lunged in his chair and fell back, sucking air through his teeth.

“Now don't get so riled up, Constantine,” Renier said. “We got a few things to talk about before you die.”

Slowly releasing his breath, Jacob relaxed his body again.

Renier nodded.

“Good boy,” he said. “You just stay that way, and we'll get along just fine.”

Renier's expression darkened. “Nice and safe, so long as you cooperate.”

Something told Jacob that Renier wasn't completely happy with the situation. Maybe he didn't have
all
the Quakers under his thumb. If any of them had escaped…

“I guess you want to know how we found you,” Renier said, interrupting Jacob's thoughts.

Jacob did want to know how the Reniers had followed him without his smelling or sensing them, even if it was too late to make any difference. He could blame himself for that along with everything else.

“We got a message from Bethel the day after you left,” Renier said, returning to his original position. “See, we have a nice little camp out there and do a lot of business in town, especially with the old storekeeper. Seems he met a man and a woman who were askin' questions about us and where we were. The man called himself ‘Jack King,' but it seems the old man heard his real name during some trouble with a bounty hunter.” Renier chuckled. “When we heard the name Jacob Constantine…well, we figured it weren't no co
incidence. So we started makin' a few inquiries, and found out a man and three women were seen ridin' east toward San Antonio. I sent one of my men ahead and rode after you…keepin' well out of smellin' range, o' course. Harl spotted you a day ahead of us, and we just kept on your trail.” He smirked. “And I heard you was pretty good at man-huntin'. Guess you was too busy with all them females to notice us.”

Jacob kept his expression blank. He'd been too busy to know that the enemy was right behind them. Too busy even to sense Perry, who was only human. Too busy to use the instincts God had given him.

“Well,” Renier went on, “you can imagine how surprised we was when we figured out where you was goin'. Gave me some pleasure to recall the fun we had here a few years back.”

One of Renier's men laughed. Lester's jaw trembled, and Virgil twitched like a corpse full of maggots.

“Now, what we
couldn't
figure was why you'd come to a place like this,” Renier went on. “You ain't no Quaker. Maybe you heard tell of our last visit?” He eyed Jacob as if waiting for an answer, then shrugged when none was forthcoming. “We moved in a little before dawn this mornin'. A lot of blood on the air. You can imagine how sad we was to hear you wasn't here.” He glanced over his shoulder at the two Quakers. “The old man denied you'd ever been here, but we knew he was lyin'. Your scent was all over. Didn't figure it would take much to make these sheep talk, but then
Vir
-gil—” he pronounced the name with contempt “—told us you'd come and gone. We was goin' to look
for you, but he said he could bring you right to us. Save us some trouble.”

Jacob stared at Virgil. “You son of a bitch,” he said.

Renier shook his head. “Just a little lamb, like all of 'em,” he said. “Ba-a-a-a-ah. Feeble and scared.” He snapped his fingers, and one of his men brought him a freshly rolled cigarette. “
Vir
-gil said he'd tell you he'd seen us in Kerrville. Now, we figured watchin' you walk into a trap would be a sight more satisfyin' than huntin' you down. So we agreed we wouldn't hurt anyone here if he did like he said.” Renier plucked a match from his vest pocket, bent down and struck it against the floor. “We set the fire to keep you from smellin' us and just bided our time.”

A trap and an ambush. And Jacob had fallen for it, all because he'd been weak. Weak with too much caring. And with hate.

“Now, this is all fine 'n' dandy,” Renier said, lighting his cigarette, “but we knew you had some females with you, four of 'em all told, includin' the one the storekeeper said was interested in us.
Vir
-gil said you had a fight with 'em, and they rode out alone. I figure we can run 'em down easy enough once we're done with you. But I do wonder why you'd be ridin' with a bunch of human females in the first place. Tryin' to start your own hay-ram?”

He guffawed, and his men joined in.

Jacob held his rage in check. Virgil had lied in telling the Reniers that Jacob and the women had fought. That must mean something.

“I was escorting the women to San Antonio,” Jacob said.

“Do tell.” Renier took a pull on his cigarette. “The old storekeeper said you was pretty cozy with the lady who called herself Sally Cumberland. He said she was pretty handy with a gun. Shot up a saloon.” The outlaw's gaze sharpened. “This particular female means somethin' to you. I smell it.”

“You killed the only woman who ever mattered to me.”

“Maybe you just wanted a pretty piece to give you a little relief on lonely nights.”

Jacob couldn't help himself. He snarled a curse and lunged against the ropes.

Renier watched with great interest.

“Make it easy on yourself, Constantine,” he said. “All I want to know is who she is, and why she was after us.”

Jacob was determined to live long enough to visit that storekeeper again. “Guess you'll have to keep wondering,” he said.

“You should cooperate, Constantine. We might go easy on those females when we find 'em.”

“The way you went easy on my wife?”

“That was business. Orders from the top. Needed to teach your kinfolk a lesson about messin' with the Reniers.”

“You must have felt mighty big, killing a lone human woman.”

Renier didn't even blink. “All in a day's work. But you ain't answerin' my questions. Who's that female, and why did you come here?”

“One of the women with him was a Quaker,” Virgil said. “She paid Constantine to bring her here.”

Renier scooted around to face Virgil. “Which one?” He chortled. “The Mexican or the half-breed? Or the white woman with shoulders like a bull buffalo?” He chortled. “Couldn't have been this Sally Cumberland. Never heard of a Quaker shootin' up saloons.”

“Victoria has been away a long time,” Virgil said. “She couldn't fit in among us. That is why she left so soon.”

Renier cocked his head. “Funny thing about that,” he said. “Storekeeper said that bounty hunter Constantine had trouble with was lookin' for that big woman. Wanted her for murder.”

“I know nothing about that.”

“You seem to like the company of hard women, Constantine,” Renier said, swinging around to face Jacob again. “I'm gettin' impatient to meet 'em. Where are they?”

“I don't know,” Virgil said.

Lafe Renier got out of the chair. “Guess we'll have to find 'em ourselves. Then we'll all have a little fun.” He signaled to the men behind Jacob. “Harl, Rayburn, you go find 'em.”

The two men walked out the front door.
Three left,
Jacob thought. The odds were getting better—if he could figure out how to keep the Quakers safe when he went for the Reniers.

But whether or not Serenity and the other women had ridden out, they would soon be facing a pair of depraved, inhuman killers. Jacob hadn't gotten a good enough look at Harl and Rayburn to know if they matched the two other men in the sketches. What would Serenity do if they did? She and the others wouldn't
have any choice but to try to kill the outlaws, and Zora would give them a decent chance to succeed. But what would it do to Serenity if she forgot her vow to give up her revenge and went after them as she'd gone after Perry?

Jacob closed his eyes and prayed as he'd never prayed in his life.

S
ERENITY RAN. SHE
ran because all she could think of was getting to Jacob, no matter what might be happening in Tolerance.

All the time she'd been looking for a way out of the shed, she'd remembered Elizabeth's fearful protest:
Virgil, do not do this. The price is too high.
And Virgil's answer:
If no one else will protect our home, I will.

Serenity had assumed he'd meant protecting it from Jacob, and that he intended to go after the man he hated. But now that seemed too simple an explanation. It didn't explain the silence in the settlement, the absence of children and workers. There was something else going on, and whatever it was, she knew she couldn't deal with it alone and weaponless.

So after she had escaped the shed through the slats she had broken with the ax she had found inside, she had headed for the road at as fast a pace as her feet would carry her, continuing west through the woods and across brushy meadows to the place where she'd left Jacob. The dress slowed her, but when she stumbled, she simply picked up her skirts again and stubbornly kept on.

She had gone only a few dozen yards away from the road when someone rushed out of the trees to the south.

“Serenity!” Victoria said, skidding to a stop in front of her. “Where have you been?”

“Tolerance,” Serenity said. “Victoria, something is wrong.”

“I know. Come with me.”

Victoria turned and led Serenity south at a fast walk. Hidden behind a thick stand of oaks were Caridad, Zora…and Elizabeth, with the five children Serenity had briefly met in the settlement. Elizabeth had the three-year-old in her arms; the other children pressed close around her, frightened and silent.

“Serenity!” Caridad exclaimed. “When we could not find you, we were afraid—”

“I'm all right,” Serenity interrupted. “Virgil met me on the road while I was out walking. He asked me to return to Tolerance immediately to see my aunt. He was lying.” She looked at Elizabeth. “What has happened? Why are you here?”

Zora took Serenity aside, out of Elizabeth's hearing. Her expression was grim. “There are strangers in Tolerance,” she said. “Werewolves.”

Werewolves.
Serenity registered the word with disbelief.

“Who are they?” she asked with sudden, choking dread.

Zora ignored her question. “Elizabeth says they are holding hostages in the settlement, and—”

“Hostages?” Serenity glanced toward Elizabeth. “But why? Who would want…?”

But she already knew, and so must Zora. There might be other werewolf gangs in this part of Texas, but Serenity could think of only one that would have
a particular interest in Tolerance…and who might be staying there.

Panic would help no one now. “Go on,” she said to Zora.

“Elizabeth was barely able to escape with the children when the strangers were distracted by—” She hesitated, her eyes full of sadness. “When they took Jacob.”

Serenity reached for the trunk of the nearest tree and leaned against it heavily. “Took him?”

“Captured him. I saw signs of a fight near the road. Blood was shed, but there were no bodies.”

That was all Serenity needed to confirm her worst fears. She strode back to Elizabeth. “Did you see Jacob?” She demanded. “Was he all right?”

“I saw little of what happened,” the Quaker woman said, bending her head to the child in her arms. “I, Grace, my father and Virgil were in the kitchen when they came. Six men with guns walked into the house, and said they were looking for a man and several women who might have come recently to Tolerance. We knew at once that they were dangerous men, so we said nothing.”

“Did you see Jacob?” Serenity repeated.

“I saw these men drag someone into the house as I was leaving to gather the children.”

Surely the outlaws wouldn't have bothered to hide Jacob's body if he were dead.

Serenity forced herself to remain calm. “How did you get away?”

“These men pay little attention to women or children,” Elizabeth said. “It was soon after I saw Virgil
return with thee, and I tried to reason with him. While the intruders were arguing, I gathered those I could, and we ran.”

She looked up, tears in her eyes. “What do these men want with thee and Jacob?”

The situation was too precarious now not to share some part of the truth. “Jacob is a hunter of those who break the law,” Serenity said. “These bad men may carry some grudge against him because of that, but I don't know how anyone could have found us here.”

“Thee knew about this grudge when thee came?” Elizabeth asked in disbelief. “Did thee know these men were searching for thee?”

Serenity looked away. “We would never have come here if we believed we would bring trouble with us.”

“Yet a man of violence attracts violence,” Elizabeth said, anger behind the quiet cadence of her voice.

“It is more than that,” Zora said. She faced Serenity, speaking to her as if Elizabeth were not even there. “Jacob knows these Reniers. His family and theirs are ancient enemies. They have reason to hate him as he hates them.”

After so many other shocks, Serenity found this one remarkably easy to accept. It all made sense. Jacob had admitted at the beginning that he knew
of
the Reniers. But there had been an odd note in his voice then, a heaviness that had suggested he was hiding something important. And he'd said werewolves sometimes killed each other.

But there was more to this than a feud between families. The Reniers could have come after her and Jacob because they'd found out Jacob was hunting them, and
this feud Zora spoke of would give them even more reason to want to hurt him. But what if it was personal? What if Jacob had harbored his own reasons for wanting the Reniers, and her own quest had only made it easier for him to go after them?

What if the same men who had attacked Tolerance seven years ago had also killed Jacob's wife? What if they'd always intended to kill
him,
too?

She brushed the painful question aside. Jacob's motives, and his decision to keep them hidden from her, didn't matter now. She couldn't say anything to make the situation better. But she could act to save the people she loved.

“What did they do when you didn't answer their questions?” Serenity asked, deathly afraid of the answer.

“They threatened us. Then my father and Virgil asked if Grace and I could leave if they remained. Their leader was going to refuse, but Virgil said he could lure Jacob Constantine to Tolerance without trouble.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “We tried to reason with Virgil, but the leader had already agreed. He said he would keep us in the house until Virgil brought Jacob to a place where his men could catch him. Before he left, Virgil was able to tell me and my father that he would see that you were safe.”

So Virgil had betrayed both her and Jacob, seeing that betrayal as a chance to protect his own people.

And if he could hurt Jacob at the same time…

“That's why he locked me up in the shed to keep me safe?” Serenity asked. “Did he know if I'd realized what was happening, I would have tried to stop it?”

“Thee could not have saved us even had thee tried, nor can Jacob. It is not right that he should have been asked to try. We do not sacrifice others for our own safety.”

But Virgil had been willing to sacrifice Jacob. And now, if Jacob was still alive—and Serenity refused to believe otherwise—it was still one man against six, unless one or more of the outlaws had been killed or injured in the fight.

Jacob might be badly injured himself.

“What about the fire?” Serenity asked, trying to think.

“The outlaws told Virgil to set it after he brought you back. I do not know why.”

Serenity did. The smell of smoke would have made it impossible for Jacob to detect strangers in the settlement. God knew what Virgil had said to lure him in. She had an idea it might have had something to do with her.

“Did these men know my name, or who else rode with us?” she asked.

“They did not mention it.” Elizabeth frowned. “Why would
thee
be of interest to them if their grudge was with Jacob?”

Serenity ignored the question and wondered how the outlaws had known where to go in the first place. Had someone in Bethel told them of “Jack” and “Sally's” pursuit?

If they saw her again, would they remember the girl they'd once held captive, that pathetic creature broken in body and spirit?

Serenity laughed grimly. She'd stolen a substantial
portion of their loot when she'd escaped. That alone would give them cause to remember.

Would they want her back to punish her for that theft? Want her badly enough to give her an advantage in doing whatever she had to do to help Jacob and the Friends?

Zora, Caridad and Victoria wouldn't hesitate to help her, but Serenity wasn't about to underestimate her enemies. She knew them too well. This wasn't like the incident with Leroy's gang. A direct attack by four humans against God knew how many werewolves would be doomed to failure. The outlaws would know they were coming as soon as they approached the house.

Unless they were sufficiently distracted.

Serenity gulped in several shallow breaths. Her legs felt hollow, and her ribs seemed to be squeezing her heart so tightly that it could hardly beat at all. If she followed the plan that had just come into her head, she wouldn't be facing the Reniers with gun in hand and Jacob at her side. She would be surrendering herself as surely as if she were willingly locking their collar around her neck.

She glanced at Zora and the other two women who stood with her. “The men Elizabeth speaks of are the ones we've been hunting,” she said. “I can't ask you to put yourselves in more danger because of Jacob and me. It would be better if you left now.”

Victoria shook her head, and Caridad laughed.

“Do you think we wish to miss the fun?” Cari asked.

“We will not leave,” Zora said. “But Elizabeth and the children should be taken to a safe place.”

Once again Serenity was reminded why she loved
these women. “Elizabeth, is there somewhere you can go where no one will look for you?”

“There is an abandoned cabin a mile west of here, away from the road,” Elizabeth said.

“Victoria, will you take them there?” Serenity asked.

Victoria nodded and ran into the trees, returning with three of their horses. “Two children can ride on each of these horses,” she said, indicating two of the geldings, “and I'll ride with you and the littlest one, Elizabeth.”

Victoria, Caridad and Zora helped the children up, reminding them to hold on tight, while Serenity took the toddler from Elizabeth. She held the child while Victoria mounted her own horse, sliding back on the animal's croup and then, with Zora's help, pulling Elizabeth into the saddle in front of her. Serenity handed the child up to Elizabeth and stood back.

“I'll return as soon as I can,” Victoria said, taking the reins of the children's horses from Caridad. She urged her mount into a fast walk, picking a path heading west through the woods, well away from the road.

“What now?” Caridad asked, lovingly stroking the polished black handles of her guns.

Serenity turned to face her. “Will you follow Victoria a little way, just to be sure no one sees them?”

Caridad nodded and trotted off the way Victoria and her charges had gone.

Once she was out of sight, Zora said, “We should also leave this place before those men smell us.”

“But that's exactly what I want them to do,” Serenity said. “I want them to smell you and hear you, Zora. But not until we're ready.”

Serenity explained her plan. It wasn't really a plan at all, just a desperate ploy that was more likely to fail than succeed. So much depended on the behavior of the Reniers and their greed, and her own ability to convince them that they would soon be facing enemies of their own.

And she had to pray that Jacob was not too badly hurt to take advantage of any opportunity she could give him. He would fight if he could. She just had to do whatever she could to make that possible.

Even though that meant delivering herself into the hands of her enemies all over again.

 

J
ACOB THOUGHT
he was dreaming.

He opened his eyes, the lids swollen from repeated blows to his face, and struggled to clear his vision. He thought he smelled Serenity, felt her footsteps in the soles of his boots, heard her voice.

But that couldn't be. She wasn't anywhere near Tolerance. Once Serenity had returned to the river, Zora would have given her some excuse for Jacob's absence and led the others away immediately.

Still the voice persisted, joined by others: Virgil's and Lester's raised in protest; laughter, crude and disbelieving. Jacob tried to smell the air, but his nose was too clogged with blood and mucus to detect any scent at all. Blurred human shapes began to appear in his line of sight: the Quakers, Renier's men, Renier himself, his back to Jacob as he stared at someone on the other side of the room. Jacob blinked several times, praying that his eyes were playing tricks on him after the repeated beatings.

But he couldn't deny it. Serenity was standing there between Harl and Rayburn, chin raised, legs braced as if for battle. She was unarmed. There was almost no color in her face.

Jacob tried again to rise, ready to spend the last of his strength to snap his bonds and go to her. But then Serenity met his eyes across the room and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

Had she refused to believe Zora's necessary lies? Had she escaped and come looking for him after he hadn't returned? She would never have come to Tolerance if she'd known the Renier gang was here. She had suffered too much at these men's hands. And Zora would never have let her. Still, she
was
here, and she must know now whom she faced. Maybe the Reniers hadn't recognized her. She couldn't look anything like the sheltered Quaker girl they had tormented seven years ago.