Wellesley paused again.
“I thought I was dead,” he said at last. “I thought I was dead, and I welcomed it. But I awoke on a beach littered with the detritus of the storm. The sun was high in a clear sky, and my skin was covered with salt.”
He smiled, a wolfish smile, and his voice roughened and the irises of his eyes brightened.
“The witch came down to the beach soon thereafter. ‘I have found you at last,’ she said in triumph. ‘All of the other wolves are dead. I was worried that we would not be able to make more of you. Come, let us show my love that the fates have not yet turned against us.’ And she turned around and started walking back to the big house.
“I had never changed except under the moon. But the ocean and the moon speak to each other as lovers do, and I have no doubt that it was the sea who gave me power and strength. I have never, before or since, taken wolf form as quickly as I did then. One moment I was human and the next a wolf. I killed the witch while she was still planning how to find more slaves to Change and control. The only regret I have is that it was quick and painless—I was too worried about her power to give her the death she deserved.
“Then I went to the big house and killed the man who had given her free rein. I found every one of those collars, and I threw them into the sea where She could do with them as it pleased her. I hope that She freed the tormented souls who gave their pain and their lives for the witch’s spell.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath. Then, in a perfectly normal voice, he said, “There were only a few of us left alive on the island—and all of them were afraid of me, for which I have never blamed them. Eventually, a ship came to see how we had weathered the storm. Upon discovering that we were alone, they claimed us all. But without a witch to hold me, I soon left them, and slavery, behind me.
“Bran asked that this tale not be told lightly, which I have never done—” He paused and looked at Asil. “Except the once. These are Bran’s reasons, and they are good ones: First, the manner and matter of the collar’s making must lie with the dead if it can be made to do so. Second, which is adjunct to the first, that a witch can control a person’s mind and body is something that should not be known if those of us who are not wholly human want to live shoulder to shoulder with the humans in peace. And finally, there is this, my own reason. This is the story of my making, a private thing. I do not wish that it be a matter of common knowledge.”
Anna thought of the way the wolves all watched her last night as she came in from the truck where the body of one of the people who had abused her rested. She understood exactly why he didn’t want people talking about it.
“You said ‘manner and matter,’” said Sage thoughtfully. If she was as affected by his story as she’d looked in the beginning, she was hiding it better now. “Does that mean that you know how to make the collars?”
Wellesley’s eyes grew cold, then lightened to icy gold. “It is something that does not concern you.”
She put her hand up. “I only ask because if someone thinks you know how to make them, you have a target on your back the size of Texas.”
Anna remembered Charles saying that there were wildlings here who knew secrets that people would kill for. If Wellesley was the only one who knew how to make those collars … he’d be hunted by every black witch on the planet.
Wellesley didn’t seem worried about it. His shoulders relaxed as he told Sage, “We all of us werewolves have a target on our back. It’s not a matter of if but when someone pulls the trigger.”
“Cheerful thought,” drawled Asil. “But let us put that one aside—since there is nothing we can do about it that we are not already doing. What does that have to do with Rhea Springs?”
Wellesley shrugged. “I don’t know. Charles said to begin where my wolf told me to—and that’s where my wolf told me to begin.”
Charles was watching Wellesley with a thoughtful expression.
Wellesley shrugged. “As I told you, I really don’t remember a lot more about Rhea Springs than I did before Anna broke the curse. Not much at all, really. I remember going there—and I remember your spiriting me out of that jail. But I still don’t remember much in between, just bits and pieces.” He bowed his head. “I remember the witch’s face but nothing else about her.”
Charles said, “Maybe you should—”
The phone rang.
Wellesley rose from the table and glanced at Charles—who shrugged. He put in an earpiece and hit a button on the phone.
“Hello?” he said, and listened a moment.
He’d found a way to have a private conversation in a room full of werewolves, Anna thought, delighted. She’d have to find out what he used.
He hit another button, and asked, as he lifted the handset, “Could you repeat that, please?”
Leah’s voice, breathless and hoarse, replied. “I asked, are Asil and Anna there?”
Asil took the phone from Wellesley. “We are here.”
“I’m calling from Jericho’s phone,” she said. “We’ve got bodies here but no Jericho. You should come.”
“Charles and Sage are here, too. Do you want us all?”
She made an exasperated sound. “What did you do? Decide to get together for a party? Never mind. Yes. Everyone should come and help me search for Jericho. We don’t want him running around loose—or in someone else’s hands, for that matter.”
She left them in a fit of dial tone.
“Are you up for this?” asked Charles.
It took Anna a minute to realize he was asking her.
She put her feet on the floor and stood up. “I’m okay,” she said. “I won’t be up to a wild hunt, but I’ll be fine.”
Wellesley said, “I need to eat and rest.”
Asil gave him a frown. “You weren’t invited, my friend. I’m very glad that your wolf has evidently been freed from a witch’s curse—but that’s a long way from being safe and dependable.”
Wellesley laughed, but his eyes were wary. “I suppose it is.”
“I could stay with him to make sure he’s okay,” offered Sage. She gave the artist a brilliant smile. “I’ve been a fan for a long time. I’d love to commission something if you are willing.”
Wellesley shook his head. “I’d rather be alone if you don’t mind. I have a lot to absorb. A little rest and a lot of food will see me right as rain. As far as a painting is concerned—I’ll get back to you on that. Most of my paintings were done to stave off madness. I don’t know what I’ll want to paint now.”
“Leave him,” said Charles.
“Come on, children,” said Asil. “You are dawdling.”
? ? ?