Chapter 33: : Chapter 33

Dark images filled my mind. A lone hovel beneath the trees. An old woman with sharp fangs and long, cruel fingers, cackling softly to herself.

That couldn’t be what we were dealing with, could it?

My stomach twisted a little. Perhaps looking up the author of a book used to summon nightmarish creatures and invade people’s dreams was not, in fact, a good idea. Why couldn’t things ever be easy?

“How do we get there?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“We’ll take a portal to Magic’s Bend. It’s another magical city in Oregon.”

“Or we could take a plane,” I suggested, hoping against hope he’d bite at the suggestion.

Jaxson wasn’t paying much attention. Instead, he was looking around the room and ignoring my input. “No time. We’ll head out in half an hour. Hang tight until then—I need to make sure everything is running smoothly here.”

With that, he stepped away to deal with logistics, leaving me to watch the bustle of activity. Casey and his team were busy inscribing runes in the floor of the warehouse. Every so often, they yelled at workers to back off and not step on their work. It was all posturing. The werewolves were obviously steering clear of both the magic ring and the sorcerers, and I could smell their mistrust and trepidation.

I glanced over at one of Jaxson’s goons, who met my eyes.

“They’re trying to help,” I offered feebly.

He blinked. “Asking a LaSalle to cast a protection spell is like asking a serial killer to sharpen your knives while you take a shower.”

The goon walked away to a part of the warehouse that was distinctly less filled with LaSalles.

And yet, they were letting Casey cast his spell. That spoke volumes. What Jaxson commanded, they did.

I had to shimmy closer to the bleachers to let a couple of burly wolves by, who were loaded down with water, food, and blankets. It was like preparation for a natural disaster. People had already started arriving, even though Casey’s circle wouldn’t be done for hours.

Sounds of children’s laughter echoed through the warehouse. A mother slapped her hands together as she played games with her kids in the bleachers. It was only noon. Was she here in hopes of keeping them safe while they took a nap?

The enormous tragedy of the situation overwhelmed me. It was madness. We had to find a way to stop Kahanov.

Footsteps approached behind me, and a vitriolic scent filled the air. The hair on my neck stood on end, and my fingernails began to itch. I spun.

Regina, Jaxson’s second.

“So, you’re one of us now,” she snarled, her voice brimming with disdain.

“I’m not,” I snapped.

“Oh, yes, you are. You have claws, fangs, and turn into a wolf. More to the point, Jaxson has claimed you for the pack, so you’re one of ours, no matter if you or I like it.”

Jaxson had

for the pack? Irritation simmered under my skin. That fucker.

Her eyes burned with barely controlled fury, and her voice quaked with rage and resentment. “You know this is all your fault, right?”

She tilted her chin toward a werewolf who was taping pictures of the sleepers on the wall underneath a string of cut-out words that read, “This mess is all because of you.”

I swallowed hard as shame and guilt pressed in on all sides, and heat flushed my neck.

Did she think I didn’t realize that? I was painfully aware of the situation. Jaxson, the pack, my family—everyone was at risk because for some reason, a half-mad sorcerer wanted to cut a part of my soul out.

Bile rose in my throat. I’d known about this world for two weeks. I’d turned into a wolf two days ago. I couldn’t control my wolf or my magic and was desperate for answers, and yet, this bitch wouldn’t give me a break.

My wolf strained at my chest, and my fangs shot out.

I turned on Regina and bit off each word like the strike of a knife. “Yes. This is because of me. So why don’t you just turn me over to the sorcerer? You’d solve the pack’s problem and get rid of me all in one fell swoop. I’m sick of your reproach, so either try to take me or fuck off.”

Regina snarled and shoved my shoulder firmly.

Pain erupted through my fingertips as my claws shot out. It took every ounce of control to rein my wolf in. I clenched my teeth and glared, ready for her to push things one step further.

“You don’t get it, do you, Savannah?” Regina growled. “Clearly, neither you nor the sorcerer has any idea what it really means to be part of a pack. It’s inconceivable that we’d turn over one of our own. Even someone we despise.”

What was she saying?

I couldn’t help my lips from pulling back in a snarl. “I have a hard time believing that you wouldn’t dump me at the drop of a hat to get your pack members back. Do you really value a dirty LaSalle girl above them?”

Regina half-laughed. “You need to retrain your brain. You’re a wolf and a pack member now. What you don’t get is that we’re wolves, not sheep. A pack, not a flock. We don’t let outsiders prey on the weak and then stand idly by to watch. We fight to protect our own. I may not like you, but I’m not going to give you up to a terrorist.”

I stepped up in her face. “If that’s so, then why are you giving me shit? Just to make me feel guilty and more miserable than I already am?”

Regina’s gaze didn’t waver from mine, but she pointed to the pictures of the sleepers. “This is all your fault, and that makes it your job to fix it. Not Jaxson’s. Not the pack’s. You. Do what’s right.”

I couldn’t help but look at the wall of pictures, and guilt dragged me down like a heavy iron chain. All those people.

Jaxson wouldn’t give me up, nor would the pack—but there was an elegant solution.

My stomach tumbled as things added up, and I dug my claws into my palms. “So what, you want me to just give myself up? Because Jaxson won’t hand me over?”

Her eyes were hard and unwavering. “I don’t care what you do—just end this without getting Jaxson or anyone else from the pack killed. This nightmare won’t stop until the sorcerer’s dead or you’re in his hands. Do the math and figure it out.”

My vision blurred as tears of rage filled my eyes. It was all too much. The pressure, the responsibility, the resentment.

In my chest, my wolf raged to be let free. But I just looked away and tried to stop from quaking. “Trade my life for a bunch of people I don’t know, who’ve never shown me any compassion or kindness?”

Silence hung in the air.

Then she pushed her fingers to her temples and dropped down on one of the bleachers. “Fuck. I don’t want you to give yourself up. If I were in your shoes, that option would be burning in the back of my mind, but I grew up with these people, and I love them more than my own life. I know you don’t, and none of this is fair.”

“It’s not,” I snarled. She didn’t look up, and I could smell her shame and regret.

She pushed her hands through her hair. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just afraid of how bad this could get. These are my people. But…” She paused and flexed her fists. “You’re part of that group now. I’ll fight with you and help you any way I can. But if the cost gets too high, if Kahanov starts killing—”

I put up my hand and walked back past the old bleachers and down the hall to the ladies’ room, leaving Regina and her fear and resentment far behind me. I plopped down on a toilet, closed the door of the stall, and slid the latch shut. Then I wept.

It didn’t last long. I’d used up most of my tears when my parents died and didn’t have much in the way of reserves of self-pity. So after a few moments, I gingerly dabbed my face and eyes with some toilet paper.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and concentrated on retracting my claws, just like Jaxson had taught me. Of course, they didn’t budge.

Gritting my teeth, I thought of his voice. His scent. The feel of his presence, his command over me.

That did the trick.

Annoyance tugged at me. How was it that he still had control even when he wasn’t there?

As my claws retracted, the turmoil of emotions churning in my chest slowly began to subside. The rage faded, my wolf let go, and clarity returned. I breathed a sigh of relief and opened my eyes.

It wasn’t a nice toilet stall, and I instantly regretted my hiding spot.

Over the years, scores of girls, and probably quite a few guys, had carved hundreds of graffitied marks into the walls of the stall—phone numbers, dirty phrases, existential questions, and a few naughty stick figures on roller-skates.

One made me smile—a girl with large tits kicking a guy in the balls. The text beside it said, “Kick ’em in the nuts” used to be my solution for most things. But then again, I was a lot more put together before I knew that sorcerers and werewolves existed. That had thrown old Savy for a bit of a loop. Where was that girl now?

, my wolf chided.

.

“Regina’s not my problem,” I muttered. She was just a mirror of my own guilt. That was what I was hiding from in here. Guilt. Not her. Just the faces of the sleepers hanging on the wall.

I pushed my palms against my head. “What the hell am I going to do? Even if we can get the witch to help us stop the dream attack, how are we going to stop Kahanov?”

, my wolf offered, somewhat unsympathetically.

“Easier said than done. He’s crazy powerful with all sorts of demons and spells and God-knows-what. How am I supposed to stop him?”

, the monster inside of me eagerly chirped.

I knew where all of this was heading sooner or later: Kahanov and me, face to face. Him with all his magic and demons, me with my ignorance and lack of control. What edge could I possibly have?

Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the Soul Knife, trying to recall the way it felt in my hand and the sensation of its magic. After a while, electricity tingled in my arm, and the blade slowly took form.

I hefted it, measuring its weight. It was something, at least.

With a deliberate motion, I jabbed the tip of the knife into the door and started carving graffiti as I considered my options.

After few minutes, a series of light footsteps echoed outside, and the bathroom door swung open. Sam. I knew her instantly by her scent.

“Savy? Are you in here?”

“Yes.” I started to gouge out another letter.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You coming out?”

“In a minute.” I sighed.

I could see her leaning against a sink through the crack in the door. She crossed her arms. “Between us girls, if you’re having trouble, I really recommend adding more fiber to your diet.”

I stopped mid-scrape, and heat flushed my skin. “No! I’m not…”

“I know,” she said, voice low and reassuring. “Regina told me she fucked things up. I’m here to sort it out.”

I scratched out another letter. “She’s a bitch, but that’s not why I’m in here. I just needed some peace and quiet to think and to get my claws back in before my cousin and his idiot friends caught me. It’s just all overwhelming. Having this wolf inside me. New magic. Being hunted for weeks on end.”

She crossed over and leaned against the side of the stall. “I know, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine.”

I angled my blade to cross an A. “Thanks, but I’m not in here trying to host a pity party. I’m just trying to decide what to do. Regina’s right. This is happening because of me.”

“No. The bad shit is happening because of Kahanov. That circle out there is happening because of you. Our people have hope because of ,” she said with conviction.

I almost believed her, but I shook my head. “The circle isn’t enough. We don’t know if the witch will help. And I need to solve this before things get out of control. Before we’re talking about hundreds of wolves with sleeping loved ones. It’s on me, and the truth is, I’m not up to it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. This isn’t all on you to solve. You’re part of this pack now, whether you like it or not. That means you don’t have to face things alone. Not anymore. You have Jaxson and me, and when the chips are down, all the others will have your back. We look after our own.”

“That’s what people keep saying, but I don’t believe it. I’m not pack. I’m not even really a wolf—just a LaSalle with a bad hair and nails problem. Maybe I look it, but I’m not part of this family. When the time comes, I’m going to be the first one voted off the island.”

She hesitated a suspiciously long time. “You’re more a part of this pack now than you can know. You have Jaxson’s protection, and that means everything to us. Hell, I lent you my favorite shirt. I wouldn’t do that if I thought there was the slightest chance someone would hand you over to the sorcerer.”

I looked down at the faded purple shirt and blinked.

“This is your favorite shirt?” I said flatly. It was bottom of the hamper stuff.

I saw her flip her hair through the crack. “Absolutely. I like keeping trophies of all my conquests.”

I laughed. “Oh, and what other trophies do you have?”

“That’s a conversation for another time. After some heavy drinking. But speaking of deviant behavior, what in the name of the gods are you doing to that door, anyway?”

I paused for a second, then started on the last letter. “Carving a sorcerous enchantment.”

“Really?” Her voice hushed and had the slightest hint of trepidation. Wolves were so superstitious.

“No. I’m joking. I don’t know how to do that yet. Bathroom graffiti is the best I’ve got.” With a flick of the blade, I unlatched the door and swung it open to let Sam inspect my completed handywork.

She raised her eyebrows, and I shrugged as I dismissed the Soul Knife into the ether. “I figured that maybe if I wrote it down, that would make it true. Kind of like a spell. Of course, that’s just wishful thinking.”

She tightened her jaw and looked me in my eyes. “Savy…you understand how magic works better than you think you do.”

I glanced back at the words. Silver sparks flickered to life in the etching, and soon, all the letters were shining with an ominous black light.