The Wolven. Deborah LeBlanc

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СКАЧАТЬ No way anyone or anything was going to take them by surprise.

      Andrea must have picked up on the sound, as well, because she let out a loud gasp, then cried out, “They’re coming!” She suddenly dropped into a squat and covered her head with her arms. “We’re going to die just like Simon! They’re coming to kill us, too!”

      “Who? Where—what?” Paul spun about. First left, then right, then left again, trying to look everywhere at once. “Someone’s … coming? Where?”

      Danyon sniffed the air again, wanting to get a handle on how quickly the runner was closing in.

      “We’d better go then, right?” Paul said. He hurried over to Andrea and grabbed her by the arm. “Danyon, let’s go, okay? I don’t wanna … I mean, Simon was a good guy and everything, but I … I don’t wanna wind up like him. Let’s just go, okay?”

      “Wait,” Danyon commanded. The runner was closing in fast, his scent stronger … much stronger now.

      It was one of his weres.

      No sooner did the realization strike Danyon than Ian Sykes thundered out of the brush. He was in mid-transformation from were to human, panting, gasping, until he pulled up short on two legs right in front of Danyon.

      “She’s dead!” Ian cried, frantically searching Danyon’s face as if all the answers to life hid there. “They killed her—somebody killed her!”

      Danyon felt a burning sensation in the center of his chest. It was the fire. The key to every wolven. Their light … their life force … their core. Just as the earth fed upon the fiery core that gave it life, they drank from the lava pool within each of them. It was sustenance that strengthened body, mind and spirit, and heightened all five senses. It bubbled higher and higher in Danyon’s chest.

      Another death.

      Another life snuffed out on his watch.

      “Who?” Danyon asked, then immediately regretted asking the question. He already knew the answer.

      There was only one person whose death would affect Ian this way.

      “Nicole,” Ian said, his voice sharp with incredulity.

      Andrea gasped. “Oh, no, not Nicky! Please … it can’t be her, Ian. She can’t be dead!” She put a hand to her mouth, sobbing uncontrollably now.

      Ian nodded slowly, his eyes lost to a scene that belonged to another time and place. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “They … they found her body between two pilings off Barataria. Sh-she was a-all messed up … bad. Lotta blood.” His focus reconnected with Danyon. “She’s dead. She’s really dead.”

      Ian Sykes and Nicole Bergeron had been a couple since they were pups. You never saw one without the other. They’d been inseparable.

      “Why?” Ian asked. “Wh-Why would anyone want to hurt her? She was …” As Ian struggled to find the words to express his horror and the magnitude of his disbelief, he suddenly did a double-take and gawked. He’d spotted Simon.

      Ian looked up at Danyon, back down at Simon, back to Danyon. “Just like N-Nicky … just l-like that. They killed her … just like that, Danyon.”

      “Did she change back?” Paul asked quietly. As though fearing the answer, he crossed his arms and tucked a hand under each armpit. He rocked nervously from side to side. “Did she? Or … or did she, uh … stay stuck, like Simon?”

      Ian covered his face with his hands, dropped to his knees. “She … she’s still were. I—I don’t understand it. My girl’s still—” Sobbing, he dropped his hands, then threw his head back and let out a wail, then a mournful howl so loud and long, Danyon felt it in his soul.

      At that moment it would have been easier for Danyon to climb Mount Everest with only one leg than to control the fury growing inside him. Two of his weres were dead. Both stripped of their claws and fangs, the two things that protected them, fed them.

      His fury was certainly justifiable. But Danyon knew if he allowed it to manifest, he would be under its control. Raw vengeance would consume him. Even now, struggling to keep himself together, he wanted to rip through something, anything. If he allowed the fury to take over, he would lose clarity, the ability to wisely discern. For Simon and Nicole’s sake, for the safety of the entire pack, he couldn’t let that happen. Justice would never be served that way. In fact, it wasn’t being served now. Not by him standing here, getting angrier by the minute. He needed answers to questions that seemed too improbable to pose.

      Who or what was powerful enough to hold down a were, restrain it, then tear out its claws and fangs?

      Why on earth had the murderer chosen Nicole and Simon? Neither would have purposely harmed a soul.

      There was only one person Danyon knew who might have some answers or at least be able to lead him in the right direction to find answers. August Gaudin.

      August was the master elder of all the were packs in the South. Every alpha reported to August and was responsible to him. He was a wise, fair leader, and everyone respected him immensely.

      This situation was so out of the ordinary, though, that even August might not have answers. Whatever the case, Danyon had to find the elder right away and let him know about the deaths—and not only because it was his duty. He had to report and make himself accountable to August, before the rage took over.

      Before he wound up being a murderer instead of finding one.

       Chapter 3

      Trying to act normal with all her senses on high alert, was like trying to shove an elephant into a linen closet.

      Hopeless.

      Shauna felt certain a were was in trouble, but she wasn’t sure what to do about it. She had no idea who the were might be or what kind of trouble he or she might be in. Intuition was usually a given for a Keeper, but she hated when it didn’t provide enough details for follow through.

      She had to do something besides pace, though. For her own sanity and to reassure Fiona, who kept looking over at her every couple of minutes from behind the register.

      Fortunately, Caitlin had been too busy to notice how fidgety she’d gotten. Unfortunately, her sister’s heavy workload came from picking up Shauna’s slack. She had managed to help the spike-haired couple Caitlin had directed her to earlier. Thankfully they hadn’t asked about pulverized bats’ wings or hogs’ hooves, as Shauna had suspected. They’d wanted gum mastic and dried anise, the first to snort, the second to smoke. All because a friend swore both gave quite the buzz. She’d been slightly abrupt with a response, stating that if they considered death a buzz, then they should go for it. That had certainly sobered them up.

      Once she was rid of them, Shauna had tried helping another customer or two, but she’d been unable to concentrate on their questions long enough to answer them. She felt useless.

      That horrible, mournful keening sound haunted her. It wasn’t as loud as it was earlier, but it was still there. No less distressing, so painful to hear. Stabbing her repeatedly in the heart. It seemed to call to her. Beg for her …

      She considered СКАЧАТЬ