Wolf's Strength (13 page)

“Somehow I don’t think this is a good idea.” Naomi accepted Blake’s help out of the car and then looked over his shoulder toward the drab storage building behind them.

Apparently this was the place where they’d kept Mr. White Cap after his capture. Blue Hills was known for its industrial-like feel. Trains and big tractor trailers venturing through here was a normal occurrence. The setup around the place made the industrial warehouse look similar to the others around it, but on the inside it was nothing more than a private holding cell.

“What are you having second thoughts about?” His arms went around her waist to pull her closer.

“I just have this feeling, that’s all.” She shrugged. “Meeting your Pack brothers under these circumstances wasn’t quite how I wanted it to go down.”

The inner corner of his eyebrows slanted downward and he frowned. “The last thing I want you to feel is uncomfortable. Do you want to leave?”

It was like Blake to want to fix everything and make everyone happy. That was in his nature. Even when they were together in the Arnou village, he was the reconciler when their friends’ arguments escalated into fights.

“No. I have to start somewhere. As long as you’re there…” Naomi closed the distance between them and kissed him.

They remained in each other’s arms for a long time. Her fingers locked around the back of his neck. His arm encompassed her waist. They were lost in the moment until a motorcycle advanced toward them. The sound of the engine moved closer and she and Blake drew apart.

The man pulled beside them and brought his bike to a halt. He removed the helmet and revealed jet-black hair and smoldering gray eyes. The man exuded so much sexual energy that all she could do was drop her to the ground.

The man slid off his bike and tossed his helmet over the handle bars. “Blake.”

“Jayson,” Blake replied. “We’re right on time. This is Naomi Valentine.”

Jayson assessed her with a dark, probing look and then held out his hand slowly. “J. Truman.”

“Nice to meet you.” Naomi accepted his handshake, noting the heat of his palms. “Aren’t you Blake’s financial advisor?”

Jayson chuckled. “I certainly am. I have been for a long time, but I hear you’ve known Blake a lot longer than I have.”

Naomi exchanged a glance with Blake and reached for his hand. “We go way back.”

“Understood.” Jayson cleared his throat. “Devin hates tardiness. Let’s go inside.”

***

They entered the warehouse.

It was dark with no windows and only the one door. Everything was a shadow, including the five forms standing in the center of the room and the one form sitting. Only three of the hanging lights were working, so she couldn’t see faces, only their backs. They’d entered during a heated conversation.

But all conversation stopped short and eyes fell on Blake, Jayson, and her. Jayson trudged forward and dropped his duffle bag on a table. Blake remained beside her.

Without a doubt the focus was on Naomi. She was an outcast. Member of the rival Pack Arnou for twenty-seven years.

“Blake?” Caedmon’s Alpha, Devin, stepped out of the circle and met them in the center of the room.

“Meet my mate at last. Naomi Valentine.”

Devin frowned and circled her slowly, sizing her up like a sack of potatoes. The hairs lifted on the back of her neck as she sensed the Alpha’s silent apprehension.

“Do you have a problem with me, sir?” Naomi asked, her blunt question surprised her.

“I almost wonder what your agenda is,” Devin inquired.

Naomi cocked her chin toward Mr. White Cap, who was sitting in the chair. His wrists and ankles were cuffed and he was roped to a metal chair in the center of the room. His face, exposed arms, and legs were black and blue, either from the altercation with Blake or otherwise. She knew the man had been in a makeshift cell all night, so it was possible he could have sustained more injuries on the way there or while being detained.

“The man sitting there. I have a vested interest in knowing how he can destroy a Spirit. I got to him first.”

Devin stopped behind her. “And what next? You’ll take this to Tristan Arnou.”

She spun to face him. “I’m without a Pack.”

“Since when,” he demanded.

“Two days ago. I escaped.”

“Why?”

Naomi swallowed and glanced at Blake. He nodded in reassurance.

“I also have a vested interest in Blake DeLuca. I had him first. He may be on your Council, but he’s also my mate.”

Devin’s expression turned blank. “You—”

Suddenly, Blake moved to stand before her. “Enough with her interrogation. The man you want to question is there.” He pointed to Mr. White Cap. “I’ll accept any punishment for seeing my Arnou mate on the sly all these years, but I’m speaking to you man to man now. Anyone that harms her for any reason will pay the price. She is my heart and I’ll die to protect her.”

“No harm, no foul, Blake.” Devin held out his hand and Blake accepted the kind gesture. “I was going to say your mate smells of her Arnou brethren. If she’s freshly removed, the scent won’t go away unless—”

“I know,” Blake replied. “We haven’t bonded yet. Naomi and I decided we want a bonding ceremony. For us it must be a special occasion.”

“And with your sanction, the permission to affiliate with your Pack.”

Devin nodded. “I’d be honored if we held the ceremony on Caedmon lands. My sanction is granted in the meantime.” He glared at her when he gave his next demand, “As a matter of fact, I order you to stay off Arnou territory.”

“My family?” she muttered.

“Her father and brother are in the Compound.”

“If they want out, we can arrange to move them.”

Naomi shook her head. “They would never leave Arnou. There have been differences of opinions regarding Tristan’s policies but like myself, my father and Nathan are very loyal. All their ties—everything they love and have ever known—is within that Pack. I had reason to leave. They don’t.”

“Then let it be.” Devin cut them off with a swipe of his hand. “My meeting with Tristan didn’t go well. Don’t let her out of your sight. I worry what would happen if he learned she stripped her Belt and then he recaptured her. I know you well, and if you thought she was in trouble, you would rush headlong into danger. I can’t risk that.”

Blake shook his head. “I’m not letting that happen but you’re right. If she’s recaptured, I would go in after her.”

“You met with Tristan?” Naomi asked.

“I did. We couldn’t come to an agreement. I didn’t leave the Arnou estate a happy camper, and he made it clear he wants me out of his way.”

“What is it you two were trying to agree on?” Naomi asked, her curiosity rushing to new heights.

Devin sighed. “It’s complicated. More on that later. Let’s finish this so I can make my decision tonight.”

***

“Look at this.” Max, the wolf-shifter who worked as an agent for the FBI, lifted Mr. White Cap’s hair off the back of his neck and pointed to a mark. “The two men who killed Dr. Westcott wore the same symbol.”

Naomi narrowed her eyes and inched closer to take a look. “That is a permanent mark.” Three triangles linked together on the base of his neck. She’d seen it before in a drawing and had heard Enforcers talking about it. They referred to it as they rehashed their accomplished missions to their colleagues.

Max pulled on Mr. White Cap’s hair and forced him to look at Devin. “Tell them what this represents.”

Mr. White Cap spat on the floor. “I told you I wasn’t going to repeat myself, you dumb dog. If you’re going to kill me, do it now.”

Max’s canines flashed, and he whipped the butt of his gun across the man’s face. “I won’t let you off that easy. Either you tell us what we ask or you’ll be locked in that cell forever. This ain’t no regular human jail. You won’t get no special privileges around here.”

Mr. White Cap cursed under his breath. “It don’t matter what I tell you. What’s done is done. Can’t nothin’ be done about this.”

Devin snorted. “Enlighten me. Who leads your group?”

“Our Master Priestess Shanhah.”

All six Council members shared confused expressions. Naomi presumed they had the same question as she did. Who the hell was Shanhah?

“Can you tell us any more about Shanhah?” Devin inquired.

“Only those who succeed during a mission get to meet her in person. I’ve been in the craft for two years, and I ain’t never seen her face.”

“So you fucking follow a leader you ain’t never met?” Max smacked him across the face. “What a dumb piece of—”

Devin held up his hand, requesting Max to put a stop to his antics.

“What does Shanhah want you to do?”

“Bring as many shifter souls as we can to her lair.”

Devin’s eyes widened and he pressed his lips together. A visible lump moved up and down on his throat. “And how many have you taken to her?”

“I told you, dog, I ain’t never seen her face because I ain’t took shit to her yet.”

Devin growled, locked his fingers around the man’s throat, and lifted him chair and all. His growl was as deep as the tension in the room. “I’m a fucking wolf, not a dog. If you want to address me as an animal, get the species right.”

The man’s eyes began to bulge, and his mouth fell open as he fought for oxygen. The veins on his neck darkened, and he jerked against the ropes.

“Devin,” Max warned.

Devin loosened his grip, and the chair crashed to the ground with the man in it. The man howled in pain on impact.

“Now, let’s start again.” Devin rubbed his hands together.

Max set the chair upright and handed a long necklace to Devin. “He was wearing this beneath his shirt.”

Devin held it up to the light. It appeared to be a vial made of some green tinted glass. “What is this used for?”

“A tube. It keeps the Spirits housed until we can get them to Priestess Shanhah.”

“And how do you get the Spirits in here?”

“The victim drinks the poison, and we recite the spell given to us and the Spirit goes in the vial. We have twelve hours to get the vial to her. Without being associated with a body, the Spirit simply diminishes.”

“Interesting.” Devin pulled back slightly. “Why must they drink the poison?”

“Not all of us have the power to restrain a Caedmon while they’re conscious, but sometimes the poison isn’t required. Some of them are so dumb they succumb to the spell. They’re seduced into it. Some of us simply know of Priestess Shanhah because we want to be free of our wolf side.”

Naomi dug her fingernails into the center of her palm. An
Other
stripped Ruby’s Spirit that night. That would explain why she couldn’t shift.

“What happens to someone when their Spirit is stripped?”

“In a minority of subjects who wanted the change, they didn’t feel a thing until the next day. Like I said, it takes about twelve hours for body and Spirit to realize what’s happened. I guess the time frame depends on how powerful the subject was to begin with since the powers reside with the Wolf Spirit. You live in human forms the majority of the time anyway, so some of you—the ones who don’t shift regularly—won’t realize a damn thing until it’s too late.”

“What does Shanhah do with the Spirits?”

Mr. White Cap grinned, showing a row of missing teeth. “You’ll have to ask Priestess yourself.”

“Where can I find this witch?”

“I’m under an oath of silence. You’ll have to kill me and even then, you won’t get that information from me.”

Devin grinned smugly. “Are you sure of that?”

Mr. White Cap spat on the floor. “Why don’t ya test it?”

Devin looked across the room. “Dawson, how soon can you get Elisa here?”

Dawson snatched a set of keys off the table and plodded toward the door. “I know where she is. It’s just a matter of if she will come.”

Mr. White Cap’s eyes flashed with fear as he looked from one to the next. Naomi wasn’t quite certain what Devin had up his sleeve but she was certain it wouldn’t be good for their captive.

“Come in.”

Tristan Arnou almost didn’t hear Thibaud Jr. His grandfather had been ill for the past three years, suffering from pulmonary hypertension. The resident doctors had placed him on bed rest for the last six months because minuscule, everyday activities caused him shortness of breath.

As he neared Thibaud’s bed, the nurse on duty confirmed nothing was needed and left. Tristan had demanded around the clock care, but Thibaud insisted this wasn’t necessary.

Tristan sat near the head of the bed. A pitcher of water with lemon and a half-empty glass sat on the nightstand. He filled the glass. “Rachel Nurse says you’ve listened to all the audio books I brought to you yesterday.”

Thibaud’s dark hair had turned silver and grown past his shoulders over the last decade. He never liked to keep it tied back, and he refused to let anyone cut it. His chest rose and fell slowly as he lay on his back. Soft classical music played in the background. He must have been listening to it before Tristan arrived.

“I’ve been bored.”

Thibaud was never the talkative type, anyway, so his disease had nothing to do with his blunt answer. Even when he reigned as Arnou’s Alpha, he was known as the intellectual, silent ruler by his followers.

“The contractor’s finished the new koi pond. Would you like to go see it tomorrow morning?”

“Maybe.”

Tristan noted the blue coloring in his grandfather’s lips and frowned. It always was that way when Thibaud endured too much activity, but that was odd since he’d been in bed most of the day according to Rachel Nurse.

“When was the last time Dr. Napier came by?”

“This afternoon.”

“And his recommendation?”

Thibaud Jr. lifted a finger and pointed to the nightstand. “On the note there.”

Tristan snatched the paper. The writing was scribbled in Dr. Napier’s familiar handwriting. Advanced stage pulmonary hypertension. The notes listed the same medications and recommended dosages as the last one the doctor left. Tristan learned to memorize everything over the years because sometimes Thibaud pretended to forget. His grandfather’s ability to move around as he did in his youth may have been lessened, but his ability to convince and persuade never diminished. But something new that did catch Tristan’s eyes on this note was the recommendation of an oxygen machine.

“Papa…”

“Don’t think about it, Tristan. I’m not living on a machine. Wolves don’t live on machines.”

“But—”

Thibaud held his palm up. “Don’t make me waste my breath, grandson. Why did you come tonight?”

Tristan swallowed his objections and sat back in his chair. “The meeting with Devin Caedmon didn’t go well.”

There was complete silence. All Tristan heard was deep breathing. One-way conversations had become the custom for them, but his papa was listening and saving his breath to deliver words Tristan had come to honor and live by. Thibaud Arnou Jr. had been the one who kept Tristan’s Spirit optimistic in light of the recent attacks.

“There’s no changing the way he sees the results of the Great Fallout. I’ve come to realize there can never be one Alpha again. We’ve branched into so many different groups that setting up one governing body would be virtually impossible.”

Tristan linked and unlinked his fingers over and over again. “You always taught me to strive for more. Land. Money. Power. Why do I have this urge to settle? Of course I want our people to flourish. There can be no Alpha, no King without the people to govern.”

He looked to Papa, who had his eyes closed and remained still on the bed.

“We’re fighting to stay alive, but with our forces split, we stand no chance against Priestess Shanhah. She wants to humanize us, and with
Other
behind her, she’ll do just that. When it comes to humans, we’re outnumbered. We’ve always been outnumbered. Our existence in the wrong hands would threaten everything we’ve build. That bitch mocked us once before. Don’t you remember when she sent the messenger after she had Damon pushed off that cliff?”

Thibaud Jr. grunted but said nothing.

“Shanhah thought I’d go in and clean up shop when the Caedmon Pack was at its weakest with no Alpha in sight. I thought about it.” Tristan rocked slowly in his chair. “I pondered it for days. Then I heard Devin had returned to claim the title, and I thought about it some more. I was a contender then, but my decisions led me to let nature take its course. You told me to follow my judgment. I did and…” He sighed. “Shouldn’t I have fought for the title then, Papa?”

Silence.

“Papa?”

Thibaud Jr. lifted a finger and twirled it in a slow circular motion. “Keep talking.”

“That Shanhah bitch wanted me to descend like a vulture. She knew exactly what she was doing. Trying to kill off the contenders one by one. She was trying to play me, and she knew Devin and I were enemies. Getting rid of one of us would’ve saved her a lot of energy.” Tristan crushed his fingers into his palms. “It had to have been her who sent that woman to murder Roman. That treacherous witch! I bet she knew all along those Caedmon men were bastards.”

Thibaud Jr. cleared his throat. “It’s the oldest maneuver in the book. Playing two opposing sides against each other. This Shanhah is the true vulture.”

Tristan had told his grandfather that Roman De’Santo was actually the legitimate heir, the first born son, and the one who should have risen to Alpha instead of Daniel. Like him, Papa was shocked, but as the news settled in, they grasped the severity of the situation.

“I still have Ruby McCoy in solitary confinement. I hate to do this to her, but how do I know she’s not on their side. She claims she blacked out for some time at the nightclub. It’s been days since they stripped her, and she has virtually nothing left of her wolf side. She’s nothing more than a weak human.”

“You should let her go. No reason holding her if she doesn’t want to be here. She’s paid the price already. More than once. She lost her Belt and her Spirit. And now she’s lost her freedom and her Pack. Nothing else can be done.”

Tristan picked lint off the bed sheets. “I wonder if having a meeting would’ve solved anything if Devin and I didn’t have that argument.”

“There’s always tomorrow. Call again.”

“Papa, he brought it up…”

“Who? Brought what up?”

Tristan swallowed and looked at his hands. “I’m a murderer, Papa.”

Thibaud Jr. sighed deeply. “Put that behind you.”

“How can I put it behind me?” Tristan raised his voice. “I killed the man who gave me life. I killed your only son.”

“I forgave you long ago, Tristan. What does this have to do with the survival of our people?”

“It’s the reason why so many lost faith in the Arnou Pack. We lost half of our Pack when that information was released about our family by one of the members of our last Council. It’s the reason why I got rid of the Council in our Pack. We had traitor among us and no one wanted to come forward.”

“You killed my son in self-defense and tried to save your mother.”

“Well, I didn’t save my mother. I knew about the abuse for many, many years…” Tristan bit his lip. “Why I snapped that night, I don’t know. I saw him beating her and just…I tried to save her.” His breath rushed out of him but his pain did not. “To this day, I’m certain he beat her harder because I interfered. He killed her.”

“Tristan…” Papa reached for his hand.

“I exploded. I grabbed the sword from the case.” Tristan squeezed his eyelids shut. “There was so much blood. He was alive but hyperventilating from the blood he lost.” He looked at his open palms. “I ended his life with my bear hands. I took no mercy on him. All I saw was my mother dead in a corner, her eyes open, her face and body battered.”

“I’m sorry. So sorry. Greed killed your father’s reason. I tried countless times to help him.”

“Are we no better than Caedmons, Papa? They allowed bastards to rise against their own rules and blatantly hid the fact from their people until recently. We fight our fathers, our flesh and blood for the position before we can reign.”

“You’ve the power to change it all.”

“I can’t change anything if I allow another Pack to overshadow mine. Twenty percent of my people left last year. They became lone wolves, becoming prey to smaller Packs and deadly forces like Shanhah Osborne.”

“Think outside of the box, Tristan. The changes must start within and at the top before they can roll down and out.” Thibaud Jr. took several short breaths, indicating he was tired. “Think of it like a chess game. You must play your pieces wisely.”

“What you suggest would be monumental. A game changer for all. Nonetheless, I might have messed up any chances of peace between the Packs.”

“Take a chance, make another chance,” Papa muttered.

“How?”

“Open your heart.”

“But—”

Papa lifted his finger. “No more.”