The Wolf's Surrender

CHAPTER 9



She was all Jeff could think of, when he could think at all. But those moments seemed to be getting fewer and farther between, interspersed with lengthy periods of grey where he had some vague sense of moving from place to place, going through the motions of living while grappling with a terrible, fathomless hunger that increasingly threatened to consume him.

In his more lucid moments, Jeff sometimes thought he’d been a fool to take the deal the shadow had offered him. But it was far too late to go back now. All he could do was hope that the Shadowkin held up their end...and that Mia’s blood truly was the key to everything he’d ever wanted. It was a shame he’d have to kill her to get it. But at this point, his trail had a high enough body count that it would hardly be his worst transgression. And he could no longer afford to indulge his conscience, if there was anything left of it.

Jeff Gaines lay curled on a dirty little cot, sweating and shivering with fever. All he could think of was getting Mia back. That, and destroying the wolves who’d dared lay a finger on her, who had taken away what was his. It was supposed to be over by now. All he’d been through, all he had yet to go through, and the key to it all was gone.

He’d ruined it all. The way he could always be counted on to ruin whatever he touched.

Stupid, the old familiar voice whispered in his head. Worthless. Pathetic. Is it really any surprise?

Jeff closed his eyes and willed that voice away. His father, the miserable old bastard, had been dead five years now. His voice, however, the voice of all Jeff’s deepest fears and disappointments, had remained, unwanted but unyielding. The good news was that it now tended only to manifest when he was at his lowest points, the moments when he was hanging on to all his hard won control by what seemed like a gossamer thread.

The bad news was that this was one of the most important weeks of his life, and his father’s disapproving baritone was trumpeting away in all its full-throated glory. If he couldn’t get a handle on himself, and soon, this did not bode well. Not at all.

“You all right, Jeff?” Pete Burns, a burly ex-con whose interesting array of violent freelance work had drawn Jeff’s attention over a year ago, cracked open the bedroom door and eyed him warily.

“Sick,” Jeff growled. “Probably something I ate. Need to sleep a little so it can pass.”

The mention of illness was all it took to send Pete running. “You got it,” he said, and vanished, pulling the door shut behind him and filling Jeff with a relief he knew couldn’t last. Burns and the four others he’d helped recruit were all bunking at the cabin now, restless and waiting for their orders. They had been promised supernatural strength, incredible power...and Jeff knew that if he didn’t start delivering, there would be trouble. They were no match for his strength, of course. Not yet. But if he killed them, there was an ever increasing chance that he would leave evidence. That he would forget something important. Hell, who was he kidding? Lately, it wasn’t just a chance, it was a likelihood. He didn’t need the police after him. There had been too many slips in the last few years, and the cops might put two and two together.

Even before he’d found a woman stupid enough to turn him into one of the beasts he’d been fascinated with since his youth, there had been an animal inside of him, always fighting to get out. The shadows had known, though. On his many lonely childhood treks into the woods, they had become his constant companions, first playful and cajoling at first, then more demanding as he got older. They’d told him where to find the Silverback bitch, how to ingratiate himself. Just as they’d told him when it was time to go.

When he’d wormed his way into the Silverback, where his money and his background had made him instantly acceptable, he’d had no idea just how far removed from his fantasies these modern werewolves were. So cautious. So concerned about being discovered, when it was humanity who should still be fearing them. The Shadowkin had been right, about everything. He would help bring a return to the darkness, a return to the chaos the wolves had once thrived on. And in return, his own tortured soul would be set free, transformed yet again and reborn in a shower of blood.

That was, if he could hold it together long enough to get Mia back from these pathetic Blackpaw. The Silverback were beginning to arrive, too, though he was less worried about them. Tomas was weak, an ineffectual leader who had neutered his own power. Jeff was standing here because of it. He’d made a mistake in the way he’d left, had only barely restrained himself from tearing out the older wolf’s throat in front of his fawning sycophants, knowing he would be merely exiled. But if Tomas tried to deal with him one on one, the Silverback Alpha would get a very nasty surprise.

Silverback. The memory of their faces, of the friendships he’d had to play at with them, had his claws biting into his palms as Jeff curled more tightly into himself. The Silverback were, by and large, soft and lazy. Entitled, by virtue of their pedigrees. Having grown up in the human equivalent of that world, he knew and understood the type. Not these Blackpaw, though. Of all the stupid places he could have stumbled into, this was one of the worst. He hadn’t paid enough attention to territorial boundaries, to the homes of the other wolf packs, during his short time as a Silverback. He’d been thinking secluded...not this.

The door to the bedroom slammed open so hard that it bounced against the wall, and a man with a lean, hungry look about him rushed in, his thin face flushed from exertion and excitement.

“I know where she is!”

Jeff didn’t think. He moved on pure instinct, raw emotion. In a swift series of movements he had landed in front of the newcomer, grabbed him by the front of the shirt, and lifted him off his feet to glare directly into his face, all before the man could do more than blink.

“Where?” Jeff snarled. “Where is she?”

Sy Wicks dangled helplessly from his fingertips, staring wide-eyed. It occurred to Jeff a little too late that such a display might be counterproductive. But then again, a little fear, in his experience, tended to go a long way.

“Caught sight of her in a truck downtown...big guy brought her, dangerous looking. A g-guard. They had dinner, then left. I followed them. She’s...she’s at his house. Outside of town, in the woods. She must be staying there.”

Sy’s voice was rushed, gasping. When he was finished, he simply hung there, looking pleadingly at Jeff. Slowly, and after taking a moment to suppress the urge to hurl the man across the room, Jeff lowered Sy’s feet back to the floor and let go. No violence. Not yet. And not until he had the proper outlet for his rage.

He couldn’t afford any more mistakes.

“One guard,” Jeff said, a terrible smile slowly spreading across his face. Sy took a step back, while Pete watched warily from his position on the couch. Jeff didn’t care. One guard? Pathetic. Taking Mia back would be easy. And it had to be her. He’d known from the moment he saw her, felt the magic shimmering around her. She was too stupid to realize the power she had, but that stupidity was to his benefit. Mia would have her useful moment, whether or not she ever realized the true extent of what she was. The possibilities inherent in what he had made her, if only for a short time. Jeff felt an unexpected pang as he imagined her face, beautiful, irresistibly genuine, her interest in him real in a way he’d only rarely experienced. Unnerved, he pushed it aside. Caring about a woman whose only true use was as a tool was more than ill-advised.

It was sloppy.

He could not abide sloppy work. If his cold bastard of a father had given him nothing else, he’d given him an appreciation for meticulousness. Of course, the old man hadn’t done any of that hard work himself. He’d inherited the family fortune, and then set about letting the world at large know that nothing, and no one, would ever be up to his high standards.

The thought of his father set off another shooting pain in his head. Jeff winced, and had to fight not to stagger as he moved farther into the common area of the little camp. He needed to be alone again, in the dark. To hear the soothing voices of the shadows...his kind.

“That’s great news, but it’s not worth anything before sunset. Until then, I need to rest,” Jeff said. “It’s been a long couple of days, and I’m not...feeling myself. When I get up, we’ll talk strategy.”

He didn’t miss the look Sy and Pete shared. He knew that look. It was one he’d seen on the faces of many through his life, friends, teachers, his own parents, before he’d learned to hide what was festering beneath. But it would all be fixed soon, cured.

Finally, he was making his own destiny.