Cry of the Wolf (21 page)

How odd that she’d turned the dining room around.

Conscious of his dirty feet on the wooden floor, he stepped lightly into the hallway and tried to ignore the tug at his heart at how his photos no longer decorated the walls. The hallway itself had been repainted a bright yellow. Sarah had always said it was too dark in here.

Had she gone and changed everything? Did she not like how it was before?

Wandering into the living room, he got the shock of his life, when he spotted that a new sofa suite had been put in; modern looking, white leather furniture that he wouldn’t have thought she’d choose. Very chic. Very art deco. Very … Sarah?

Guess so.

His inner wolf whined at him in his mind.
What are you doing here? Go home to Lydia.

But he was gripped at the changes he was witnessing.

Treading softly, he ascended the stairs onto the second floor. The staircase was covered in a plush white carpet that hadn’t been there nine months ago. He made his way to the bedroom. Surely some semblance of familiarity – of
him
– would still be present there. It was incredibly disconcerting how she seemed to have happily wiped him out of her life. Lawrence had gotten rid of the evidence, and Sarah had had a makeover.

He let out a breath of relief when he saw that the bedroom, by and large, had remained the same. The only changes were the bedding and the curtains.

Yeah, maybe she ran out of money and has this room planned for later this year.

He ignored his snarky inner voice and took it all in. So this is what she was like left to her own devices – without him.

He walked towards the wardrobe, but stopped before it when he spotted her jewellery stand. She was never one for too much jewellery, but she had always worn the things most precious to her.

Five friendship bracelets lay hanging on a hook on the stand.

“Fuck it, Sarah…”

She’d never taken them off in the years they’d been together, not once. And now, it looked like she barely touched them.

What were you expecting?

What
had
he been expecting?

With curiosity and trepidation, he opened the wardrobe. It was odd to see it with all of his clothes missing. Sarah’s clothes still looked the same; it didn’t seem like she’d been shopping for clothes so much in the past year. But there were quite a few shoe boxes piled up to one side.

Gingerly, he lifted the lid of one of the boxes to look inside.

Unicorns.

He cursed under his breath.

All of her unicorns. She’d put them all away.

And he was the idiot who’d gone and given her a new one just earlier this morning.

The one she attacked us with,
reminded his wolf with a roll of its eyes.

“She’s moved on,” he said aloud to the air – the air that smelled of new paint, and of Sarah. His own scent was gone from this house.

This wasn’t his home any more.

He perched at the edge of her bed.

All this time, he’d worried that she was okay, that she might be suffering, that maybe a part of her felt lonely or aching for a loss she couldn’t fathom… The reality was she’d moved on. And why wouldn’t she? She had no memory of him at all. It was easy to let go when you remembered nothing; easy to start afresh.

She’d moved on, and he was the one stuck in the past.

He’d thought she might be hurting. He was the one hurting.

He’d thought she might be pining for lost love. He was the one pining.

He’d thought she needed saving…

Then you’ll be saving her forever…

Lydia was right. It was he who needed saving.

And ironically, sat here at the edge of what used to be his bed, it was Lydia he wanted beside him. Lydia who had been nothing but patient with him the past three weeks while he’d been faffing around trying to figure things out. Lydia who he’d promised himself to tonight, right before he’d run out on her.

Shit.

Enough. He had to fix this. He’d go back home and let Ryan and the others deal with Sarah and the Trident. It cut him up to think Sarah might be harmed in any way, but seeing that Trident with his hands on Lydia had sent him into a tailspin earlier, and he could deny it all he liked, but the truth was that it was Lydia he’d thought of when he’d jumped at the male. It was Lydia he’d been trying to protect, not Sarah.

So what are you doing here?

What indeed.

He got up and made his way out of the bedroom and down the stairs, back towards the kitchen, but froze in the hallway when car headlights flooded in through the window.

They’re back!

He ran towards the kitchen door, shifting as he went, and oh, fuck, he still had to open it!

He jumped up at the handle with his paw and got the door off the catch on the third try. If Sarah saw him here she’d freak out big time. Her terrorised face still haunted him from last Halloween, and now from tonight – he didn’t want to be the reason she looked like that ever again.

He heard the car engine die. It was definitely them. He could smell them and he could hear their conversation, faintly – Sarah sounded … fine. And she still smelled human, although it wasn’t a full moon, so that wasn’t surprising. What
was
surprising was that the Trident hadn’t enslaved her or hurt her; that he’d brought her back here surely knowing that werewolves would be looking for them now. What was his game?

From the shadows of the garden, a movement downwind of him caught his eye.

A huge, dark wolf emerged under the setting moon.

Ryan.

What was it? Five in the morning? The sun would be rising soon. Was Lydia all right? Had Lawrence taken her home?

Sarah’s voice travelled up the driveway along with her heels clacking on the cement.

He turned from her voice and glanced at Ryan.
I want to go home. Can I leave Sarah with you?

Ryan stood still, assessing him.

It was no small thing he asked, but it was the only way he could think of to make up for his stupidity earlier. They had entrusted Lydia to him and he’d let them down. Now, he was entrusting Sarah to Ryan, regardless of the outcome.

This
was goodbye.
This
was how letting go began.

Ryan’s wolf dropped his head in affirmation.

Taylor threw him a telepathic thank you and sped towards the end of the garden, up onto the lowest branch of the willow tree, then leapt over the fence into the neighbour’s before sprinting his way home.

~*~

“I’m going to say goodbye here, Sarah.” Amil scanned his surroundings. He damn well knew there were at least two werewolves nearby. One of them was the wolf that had attacked him earlier, and the other was the Alpha they had caught last month.

This didn’t bode well, although he doubted they’d try anything with Sarah right there. If they had any sense at all, they’d wonder why he’d brought her back – it was hardly the Trident way.

It was only now that he was in the vicinity of her home, with the smaller werewolf’s scent permeating the area, that he could finally understand the connection: he had lived here.

That had been his home – his and Sarah’s home. It still carried the smallest trace of his scent, and he still carried the smallest trace of hers. That’s why her scent had been on the blouse – because of him.

Interesting.

Amil wondered what he had been to her. Her brother? Husband? Whatever he was, she was clearly oblivious, which meant Amnesthipine had been used on her.

He sighed. What a mess. Amnesthipine only worked thoroughly when combined with hypnosis – which it would have been – but regardless, it was a one way deal. There was no way back after taking the drug. Whatever memories had been taken from her, he hoped Sarah was strong enough to be whole without them.

He tempered down the anger that swirled in his gut over what was done to her. No use getting tetchy – he’d had nothing to do with it. Damn likely it had been the only alternative.

It didn’t matter anyway. He had to let her go.

“Now?” Her voice trembled and werewolves be damned. He took her in his arms and kissed her, willing her not to hurt over him even though he knew she would.

“Yes, now,” he whispered. “Knowing you has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Will you call me?”

“I’ll try.”

“Is it, er … is it political? The stuff you’re involved with? Does your family have political roots?”

“Sarah. It’s best you know nothing about it.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I did say you didn’t have to tell me.”

“Darling,” he brought her face up to his, “it’s just not a hundred percent safe right now. I can’t put you in danger.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek, but she put on a brave face and smiled at him.

If only she knew his heart – the one he thought he’d lost until he’d met her – was being torn into pieces.

“Three months?” she asked, refusing to let go of hope.

Oh, my Sarah…

“Three months,” he affirmed. Tonight, he would start praying again – the first time he would have done so since he was ten years old. “Goodbye, Sarah.”

“Goodbye,” she replied, barely a whisper, then turned so he wouldn’t see her face crumple. It made no difference – he could smell the salt of her flowing tears.

She raced up her steps, fumbled a bit with the front door, then finally closed it behind her without looking back. The slam of the door felt like a nail in his coffin.

He turned with a heavy heart, wondering whether he should be grateful he could feel it at all, when he saw the Alpha wolf leaning against his car.

“Where’s your friend?” asked Amil. “The one who attacked me earlier.”

“Can you blame him? You had two females in your grasp, both of whom are precious to him.”

“One of them is no less precious to me.”

“So I see, although I don’t believe it.”

“What you believe is of no consequence to me.”

“I could take you out right now.”

“I’m sure you’d try if it weren’t for the fact that precious woman number one might just be looking out of her front window.”

“What the fuck are you doing with her?”

“And
that
is no consequence of
yours
.”

The Alpha growled at him in warning.

Amil didn’t flinch. These were games he didn’t want to be a part of any more – no longer had
time
to be a part of. “The only thing I’ll tell you is that I’d rather die than hurt a hair on that woman’s head, which is the sole reason I haven’t taken her captive for the full moon. I could have, you know. I could have kept her for mating and then I’d have my longevity… But she would be ruined forever.”

“Damn, I forgot my violin.”

Amil smirked. “As facetious as you were last month, I see. I have something for you, but I need to reach into my jacket pocket to get it.”

“Pull the other one. Your hand disappears into that jacket and so does the rest of you because I’ll strangle you with it.”

“Then how about I take my jacket off and throw it to you so you can get it out?”

“What is it and why are you giving it to me?”

“It’s a key to your salvation as a species, and I’m giving it to you because I have no use for it or any of the little enterprises Tridents like to part-take in.”

“Throw your jacket into the middle of the road.”

He whipped it off him and did as instructed.

“Now take ten steps back.”

He did, making sure they were large steps.

“If this jacket explodes when I touch it I’m ripping you a new arsehole.”

“It won’t.”

The wolf walked towards the clothing, never taking his eyes off Amil. Carefully, he picked it up and patted the pockets until he felt the tell-tale bulge. “What is it?”

“A vial.”

He placed his hand inside the pocket and took out the Poly Grip bag that held the small container filled with the yellow liquid.

“The wonderful Loretta was going to use that on you last full moon. It’s the formula that kick-starts the process of turning werewolf to Trident.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

He snorted. “Put it under a microscope with some werewolf blood and you’ll soon find out.”

“Why would you give me this?”

Amil sighed. “Does everything have to be so difficult? Can’t you just take it with a ‘thank you’?”

“It’ll be the end of you if The Trident discover you’ve done this.”