First Bite (The Dark Wolf Series) (36 page)

In order to try and use the dark pendant, Neva figured she needed her human form. According to Travis, however, they needed a
defensible
spot. That sounded ominous. She couldn’t imagine trying to fight so many wolves. They would be dragged back to Meredith for certain.

This way.

He led her down yet another steep slope, and she could feel her strength ebbing as she strained to keep from sliding. It wasn’t
long before the big tawny wolf was almost twenty feet in front of her—and her Changeling senses could hear her twin’s hordes not far behind her. Previously such sounds had spurred a burst of adrenaline, but not this time.

Christ, it’s about time! Neva, come this way.

In her mind she was hurrying, but her pace remained the same. Finally she caught up to Travis and looked over his shoulder. There was a groomed path, and he nosed her hard toward it.
Come on, it’ll be easier for you.

It’ll be easier for what’s chasing us, too.

There’s no choice. We have to get to a spot where you have time to Change and work with the stone. It’ll be a race, but this’ll help you.

She loped beside him, her nose to his hip. It was comforting somehow, and he adjusted his pace accordingly. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d read the sign beyond the path, however: Damnation Creek Trail.

The terrain was a welcome relief at first. The giant redwoods began to thin out and get smaller. Giant groves of huckleberry trees and rhododendrons gave way to spruce-covered hillsides. The trail would be a challenging one for a human, but on four legs, it wasn’t bad at all. They crossed a small wooden bridge with a strange triangular frame. She assumed the water below it was Damnation Creek itself. Farther on, a similar bridge recrossed the creek. Then the trail narrowed and began to climb once more. Her muscles felt like wet ropes.

Neva looked back and saw a handful of their pursuers crossing the first bridge. Ahead of her, Travis galloped up to the trail’s summit.

Shit. Shit! Goddammit—who builds a fucking trail that doesn’t go anywhere?

She climbed up alongside him and looked down at a small rocky cove. There were steps carved into the rock face leading
down to it—but the tide was in and the stairs led only to water.
Well, at least they can’t get behind us.

I’m so sorry, Neva. I thought this would connect with one of the coastal trails.

S’okay, I needed a break anyway. Give me the stone, and stand back so I can Change.

He deposited the pendant on the rocky ground. But he didn’t stand back. Instead, he took up a position on the narrow path in front of her, facing the trail they’d just ascended. His voice in her head was quiet and sure.
Take your time, Neva. I swear they won’t get to you as long as I’m alive.

No words seemed appropriate. She sent him a burst of emotion instead, hoping it would come across as the virtual hug she intended and not a jumble of tangled thoughts and feelings.

Now she had to persuade her animal persona to let her return to her human form. All of its instincts were poised to protect her with tooth and claw. The best she could do was promise her wolf that it could come out and fight if any of the enemy got past Travis. Reluctantly, it stopped arguing with her—

And she stood on two feet. She wobbled for a moment, a little dizzied from the height, and less stable on the rocky terrain without four legs. Neva had never really thought how much the human form relied on constant balance. She picked up the black opal and nearly dropped it again as it seemed to pulse in her hand. Did that mean it recognized her, or was that an example of the vibes Travis had spoken of? She looped the heavy white-gold chain around her neck—wet from wolf drool, of course—and held the black stone with its hidden fires firmly in her fist.

That was when she felt the magic.

Cold fingers of power wriggled over her skin like tiny slugs. Neva wanted to throw the pendant away from her, toss it into the ocean behind her, but instead she held it tighter and clutched it
against her chest. Her twin wouldn’t fear the stone and neither would she. Much.

Wolves were approaching, gathering at the base of the rise. Travis snarled at them and warned them off, head lowered, muscled shoulders hunched, showing all of his formidable teeth. She stopped looking. She had to let him take care of that, had to trust him to hold them off. Her job was to make this last Hail Mary effort, to take control of a magic that wasn’t hers.

But that’s Meredith’s way.
Neva thought of her twin, how she sought to control everything and everyone around her. How she took power away from others, wrested it from the elements, chained it and forced it to serve her. Looking back over the ocean, Neva suddenly began to breathe in and out in rhythm with the waves. Silently calling. Inviting. A great peace settled over her as she lifted her gaze to the tree-covered hillsides before her. Calling. Inviting. She settled the stone between her breasts and raised her arms slowly, slowly. Calling, inviting. An immense energy followed the movement of her hands, as if she were drawing it up from the water, the earth, the plants, and finally, as her hands reached above her, energy poured down from the air above, filling her.

The stone was hot now, maybe hot enough to burn through her shirt, but she ignored the discomfort. She didn’t dare touch it right now. Instead she kept her hands above her head and looked out over the wolves gathered at the bottom of the path. They stood perfectly still, gazing up at her. Waiting. They needed something, yearned for something—what was it?

Travis’s voice was a whisper in her mind.
I think they’re waiting for your orders.

So many of them
, she murmured.
So many lives stolen.
It wasn’t orders they needed at all. Determined, she concentrated on the skill she’d learned only recently—mindspeak. And did the very opposite
of what Travis had tried so hard to teach her. She
broadcast.
Only it was more than words that she sent to the dozens of wolves below. The energy, the living power that she’d collected from nature itself, channeled through every cell of her being like a strong wind, and delivered her message for her.
You’re free. Every one of you. You’re free to live your own lives, never to be compelled again, never to be subject to any will but your own. Meredith has no power over you and neither does anyone else.
After a moment she added,
Never harm a human being. Never turn anyone against their will.

The wolves looked puzzled. Some sat and scratched at their ears, others shook themselves. But none of them were snarling, growling, or threatening in any way.

Exhausted, Neva slowly brought her arms down. She sat beside Travis and leaned against him.
That’s all I got.

I think it’s enough. Whatever the hell you did, I think it’s working,
he said, and licked her face.
Nice touch with the Changeling rules, by the way.

I figured if we’re going to turn that many werewolves loose on the world, we’d better give them some guidelines.

A few of the wolves lay down where they were, as if they were tired. Others wandered away—but not together. It took well over an hour, but eventually all of the wolves dispersed and disappeared from sight.

Travis nuzzled her.
I wonder where they’ll go?

Home, I think. Wherever that is for them.

Wherever that is, I know where it’s
not.

She nodded.
Me too.

Meredith awoke in the bathtub, the water cold, the bottle of cognac two-thirds empty, and her thoughts muzzy. She could
simply work a small spell and reheat the water, of course, but that seemed like too much trouble. Besides, she was getting hungry.
Have to keep up my strength.
Her inner wolf growled.
And yours, too, darling.

She stepped out and patted herself dry with soft French linen towels, then checked her face in the mirror. The swelling was gone from around her eye, but a slight bruise lingered. The golden werewolf was going to pay for that—perhaps she would remove one of
his
eyes. Into what spell could she incorporate a werewolf eye, especially one from a natural-born shape-shifter? Meredith contemplated that as she did her hair and applied her makeup, calculating what magical effects she might glean. She didn’t feel like dressing—really, clothes were so restrictive—and selected a black satin wrap instead. The hue didn’t favor her complexion, but black was the color of power, which favored her personality. She paired the wrap with woven stilettos in the same shade.

Relaxed and confident, she poured herself another drink and left the room, wobbling only once on her trademark heels. The elevator door opened at once, as if anxious to get out of her way. As the car rose, she surveyed countless images of herself in its mirrored walls and smiled with pure satisfaction. Until it occurred to her that something didn’t look quite
right
. She examined her makeup, took a long sip of the cognac, and pulled at the collar of the satin wrap to reveal more cleavage. The drink had brought color to her cheeks, and the mirror, ever her friend, declared that she looked not just good but positively
resplendent
.

Yet something teased at the corners of her mind, something she should know…

The elevator opened at ground level. Meredith planned to check with her pack on their progress and then order a meal to be sent to her room. She was hungry, and her alter ego was
positively
starving
. A brace of quail perhaps, or a fragrant rack of lamb?
Both, I think, and—

The house was dark. The elevator doors closed behind her, taking all the light with them. There was no sound. No scents of food being prepared. No army of attendants appearing to cater to her whims. Confused, Meredith wandered through the vast rooms, the businesslike
click
of her stilettos the only sound. Where in heaven’s name was her pack? She reached out with her mind and called. And called again for someone,
anyone
, anywhere. Anxiety rose, fluttering in her chest like a panicked bird, and she called aloud.

She threw aside the glass and ran then, her heels beating a tense staccato that echoed off the walls. As she approached the great front doors, the turmoil of her emotions sent them crashing open ahead of her with such force that they bounced against the walls of the house, cracking layers of stucco and brick. The noise resonated in her ears, but it was the only noise, the only sound, and it faded into nothingness. The expansive grounds were as empty as the house, dark and foreboding under a new moon.

Meredith reached for her pendant—and collided with harsh reality as abruptly as if she had run straight into a wall.

The exquisite black opal was gone.

In the elevator her liquor-soaked brain hadn’t been able to discern what was wrong. It had no problem comprehending the implications of the missing gemstone, however. The immense monetary value was meaningless. The opal’s real worth was in its ability to collect and channel power, enhancing her control over her pack, magnifying and extending her influence as their sire indefinitely.

And now?

She had to find it. Had to. Her heart and her heels pounded out a rhythm of terror and rage as she retraced her steps. Every
light in every room she entered flared into chaotic life as if a surge had passed through the lines. She chanted every locating spell she knew of, crawled on the floors looking under furniture. Returned to the elevator and kicked off her stilettos as she bashed the buttons with the heel of her hand. And as the car began its descent, she bashed the mirrors, one after another, with the spiked heels of her shoes.

The search of her sanctuary turned up nothing. She hadn’t set aside the pendant before getting into the tub. Hadn’t left it on the counter. Hadn’t even soaked it in a crystal bowl to replenish it. Furious, Meredith ransacked the entire room, turning out drawers and cupboards, breaking jars and vials until she was emotionally and physically exhausted.

As she leaned against the wall, sides heaving and stomach churning, she thought of her penthouse bedroom. That was where that brutish yellow wolf had knocked her down. Perhaps the chain of the pendant had broken? Perhaps the clasp had loosed itself? Of course it had. It
had
to have come apart in the struggle…

But it hadn’t. Hours later, the penthouse resembled the sanctuary, furniture upended, windows broken, and entire sections torn from the carpet. Sober at last, Meredith looked even worse than the room, the former rosiness of her skin replaced with a ghastly pallor. Her hair was dull and tangled, and mascara pooled beneath her lower lids. She stood at a ruined window, clenching and unclenching her fists until her palms bled from her now-ragged nails. Her satin wrap was half on, half off, but she was heedless of the cold ocean breeze on her naked skin. The only thing she was aware of was the realization that
her wolves were gone
. Her carefully created, painstakingly accumulated army of wolves was never coming back. She was completely and utterly alone.