Code of the Wolf (28 page)

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Authors: Susan Krinard

BOOK: Code of the Wolf
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That was probably too much to hope for, but Serenity's brief acknowledgment had been deliberate. She'd managed to keep her head and was clearly determined to stand up to her fear. She must have some kind of plan, though God knew what it was.

Jacob knew that she was going to need his help, though—and soon. He had let Renier hit him because he'd figured any resistance on his part might endanger the Quakers, but he couldn't sit by any longer. He focused on gathering his strength, pushing aside the pain of his cut and bruised flesh. If he could weaken the ropes, he could move that much faster when the time came.

“…don't remember me?” Serenity was asking as he
focused on her again. “Do all your kind have such poor memories?”

“Remember you?” Lafe Renier drawled, ambling toward her. “I think I'd remember a body like yours.” He licked his lips and grinned. “I don't remember sending for any whores, but we'll be happy to give you what you want. We might even pay you for it.”

There were appreciative murmurs of agreement and several crude jokes.

Jacob jerked on the ropes and reminded himself to work slowly. All attention was on Serenity now, but that might change at any time.

“She is no whore!” Virgil said, moving closer to Serenity. “She is one of us.”

Renier's expression cleared. “So she's the one,” he said. “A Quaker who shoots up saloons. Where's your gun now, little lady?”

“We have a bargain, Renier,” Virgil said, drawing on some hidden reserve of courage. “You have the man you were looking for.”

“Bargain?” Renier said. “I don't remember no bargain about this bitch. She was ridin' with Constantine.”

Virgil clenched his fists. “You would rather torment a woman than face a man in a fair fight?”

For the first time Renier showed some emotion other than smug satisfaction. “You?” he asked incredulously. “You challengin' me, Quaker?”


I'm
the one challenging you,” Serenity said.

Renier's gaze snapped back to her. He looked her up and down, and the mocking smile returned. Jacob knew the exact moment when Renier recognized her.

“As I remember,” the outlaw said, “you was never
much of a challenge. But I can see you've changed.” He walked around Serenity, examining her from every angle. “You Constantine's whore now, bitch?”

Jacob's wrists were already bloody, but the rough fibers of the ropes were beginning to give one by one. He knew he didn't dare let Renier think his relationship with Serenity was more than one of convenience, even if the truth came out about her purpose in riding with him. Somehow he kept his mouth shut and his head slumped against the chair back, reminding himself again how he would make Renier suffer once he got free.

“Mr. Constantine was escorting me home,” Serenity said.

“Then why was you askin' about us in Bethel?”

Renier demanded. “Don't deny it, 'cause we know all about it.”

Serenity didn't so much as twitch a muscle. “I hired Constantine to find you so I could kill you.”

The outlaw widened his eyes in a mocking imitation of terror. “Kill me?” He glanced around the room, expecting derisive laughter.

One man guffawed, and another snickered. The others said nothing.

“How do you think you're going to kill me? All of us?” Renier asked. He jerked his head toward Jacob. “Did you think he'd do it for you? Did he tell you he wants us dead, too?”

“No,” she said.

“Well, let me let you in on a little secret. We killed his wife, same as we did your kinfolk. His family and mine go way back, and it ain't been a friendly relation
ship. I reckon he hates us just about as much as you do. But he ain't much use to you now, and he'll be even less when he's dead. Or do you want to beg for his life?”

“I don't care what you do to him,” Serenity said coldly. “He is only a hired man. He lost your trail in Bethel, and I learned I was needed here, so I stopped looking.”

Renier stared at Serenity through narrowed eyes. “That almost sounds like truth.” He gestured toward Virgil. “But
he
said you didn't ‘fit in' no more. Guess you was damaged goods and these pure folk couldn't have you around to remind them what could happen if we came by again someday.”

Serenity held his stare. “It doesn't matter what they think. I have a deal to make with you. I'll give you something you want in exchange for leaving these people alone.”

Dropping back into his chair, Renier stroked his stubbled chin. “Now what could you bargain with, I wonder? I can take you anytime I want. Hell, you're still the best-lookin' woman in this town.” He snickered and crooked his finger. “Maybe, if you're good enough, I'll think about letting some of these sheep go.”

Serenity stayed where she was. “I have something better to offer,” she said. “You think you took everything from me. But I stole something from you, too. Didn't you ever wonder what happened to those bags of money?
Your
money.”

Abruptly Renier's demeanor changed, and he was all wolf, predatory and bristling with rage. He jumped out of the chair again.

“Where is it?” he snarled.

“I'll tell you—if you agree to my terms.”

His hand shot out, ready to lock around her throat, but Serenity deftly moved out of his way just as Virgil lunged forward to stop him.

“Get your hands off her!” Virgil shouted.

With a casual gesture Renier struck Virgil across the face, sending him reeling across the room.

Jacob clenched his teeth with such force that he nearly bit through his tongue.

If he moved too soon…

Renier swung to face Serenity again. “You must think you're pretty smart, comin' in here like you have some chance of gettin' out again.” He grabbed for her shoulder, and this time Serenity wasn't fast enough to move out of his reach. Renier twisted a lock of her hair around his finger, pulling hard enough to hurt her. “You say you still got our money?”

Serenity stared him in the face without the slightest trace of fear or pain. “I hid it after I escaped. Most of it is still where I left it.”

Renier yanked her toward him. “You're lyin'.”

Jacob tasted blood in his mouth. God help him, in a few seconds he would lose what control he still had. But Serenity glanced at him again—a glance of complete indifference—and he forced himself to stay still. He moved his wrists carefully and felt the ropes begin to separate. There were only a few strands left holding them in place.

Just one sign from Serenity. Just one.

“What would I gain by lying?” Serenity asked. “I
can prove it to you. I can lead you right to it…if you leave these people alone.”

“You think we can't kill everyone here and still make you take us?”

“If you hurt anyone,” she said, “if you so much as touch a hair on a single Quaker head, you'll never see that money. I'll kill myself first, and you won't be able to stop me.”

Renier started to laugh again, then stopped and abruptly let go of Serenity's hair. “Maybe I should take a couple of these sheep along with us, just to make sure you keep to your ‘bargain.'”

“I said you'll get nothing if you touch anyone in Tolerance.”

“There were three other females with you. We'll find them, and then you won't be singing so pretty.”

“You might as well slit my throat now, Renier, because I promise I won't ever sing again.”

That was when Jacob witnessed a miracle.

Renier backed down. He opened his mouth to threaten again, but the words never came out. He stalked away, glaring at everyone in the room, and spat on the once-spotless floor.

“You'll pay for this, bitch,” he said. “Once you've taken us to our money, you'll suffer. You think the last time was bad…” He found his grin again. “You'll never be off your back.”

“I don't care what happens to me,” she said in a voice bare of emotion. “I'm already dead.”

“Then maybe you won't mind watching us kill Constantine before we go.”

“Do whatever you want with him, but don't take too long.”

“Why not?”

“Because I think pretty soon you're going to lose your chance to come with me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A
S IF AT SOME UNSEEN
signal, a howl rose outside the house. It came from the direction of the road, and no werewolf could mistake its meaning.

For it wasn't a common wolf crying out to its pack mates, but another werewolf, and not one of the Reniers. They all turned to stare at the front window.

Jacob forgot to breathe. It had to be Zora. But what did she think she could gain by attracting the Reniers' attention? A distraction? They would slaughter her once they caught her, though they might pause to abuse her first.

The howl broke off, and there was a long silence. Renier signaled to his men, drew his gun and ran to the door, where he dropped into a crouch.

“I saw them when I was coming to the house,” Serenity said. “There were about ten of them.” Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “One of them found me watching the house and asked me if I was the woman who had been traveling with Jacob Constantine. He said his family was at war with the Reniers, and Jacob had sent his kinfolk in the North a message from Bethel saying that he'd found where Lafe Renier and his gang were hiding.” She shrugged. “I guess they must have followed us when I asked Constantine to bring me here.”

“How could he have sent a message?” Renier de
manded, still crouched by the door. “There ain't no telegraph in Bethel.”

“By rider,” Jacob croaked. “More than one man in need of work in that hellhole.”

Renier straightened. “It's a lie. Louis was standing guard. He would have warned us. Whoever's out there, it ain't no—”

A second howl came, higher-pitched than the first, from the rear of the house. Renier's men turned as one toward the sound.

“I don't know what happened to this Louis, but you haven't got much time left,” Serenity said. “I don't want my people caught in the middle of a fight between animals.”

Renier hardly seemed to notice her insult. Sweat had broken out on his forehead, and Jacob realized Serenity—and Zora—had all but convinced him that the house was surrounded.

“Harlan,” Lafe snapped. “You and Ned go out and take a look. Harl, you take the front door. Ned, check the back.”

The men in question glanced at each other. “Maybe it would be better if we all went out,” Ned ventured.

“Get out there,” Renier said, showing his teeth.

Werewolves weren't wolves in every way, but in any group of them there was usually a pretty solid pecking order, and neither Ned nor Harlan was willing to stand up to Lafe. Harlan approached the front door at a near crawl, while Ned slunk toward the back. They stripped and went outside wearing only their gun belts. Renier paced the floor, glaring first at Jacob and then
at Serenity. Jacob knew the man was on the edge of an explosion that could consume the entire settlement.

Serenity must have known it, too, but no doubt crossed her face. She watched Renier as if he were an insect in a jar, scurrying and scrabbling for purchase against the glass. The hair-trigger tension in the room increased a little more with each minute that passed without word from Ned or Harlan.

Jacob prepared himself. He wouldn't have time to take off his clothes once he freed himself from the ropes and went for Lafe Renier. He would have to tear them apart with the Change itself, and that would take an enormous toll on his strength. But there were only three of the gang in the room now, including Lafe, and he would never get a better chance.

He looked straight at Serenity, willing her to look back. She was turning her head toward him when there was a howl of pain from outside, followed by the report of a gun. Another gunshot, a third, and then the unmistakable sounds of a struggle.

Jacob surged upward, snapping the weak fibers that stretched between his wrists, kicking out to crack the legs of the chair and free his feet from their bindings. He felt the resistance of his boots and clothing as the Change began, confining his body as he struggled to complete the transformation. Leather and cloth gave way with a violent hiss.

Renier shouted at his men. Serenity seemed to move as if through water, her limbs dragging as she tried to dodge the man coming after her. Jacob shook off the tattered scraps of his clothes and charged Lafe, jaws wide to sever the pulsing veins in the outlaw's throat.
Everyone around him, werewolves and humans alike, seemed to slow to a crawl.

The man going for Serenity caught her, and Renier swung his pistol to aim at the center of her forehead.

“Stop!” his thick, muffled voice shouted from somewhere far away. “I'll kill her!”

Part of Jacob heard the words. Part of him wanted to stop. But the hatred was stronger.

It was too late. Too late to go back, too late to remember that he had once chosen not to be like his enemies. All he could see was Ruth, horror distorting her pretty face as she tried to run from the monsters who had come to steal her life and destroy Jacob's with it. All he could feel was the wolf's lust for blood. Revenge was a heartbeat away.

The world groaned, shuddered, came to a grinding halt. The powerful muscles in Jacob's hind legs bunched. His forepaws left the ground. All his massive weight hurtled toward Lafe Renier, roaring, flying.

Then Ruth looked at him with Serenity's eyes, and the last of Jacob's humanity recognized their message.

Forgiveness. No fear, no reproach, no hate. Only complete and utter acceptance.

The man remembered. The wolf twisted in midair before his body struck his enemy, twisted and flung himself sideways, one paw striking the floor before he leaped up again. He plowed into the woman, knocking her aside as the bullet whizzed past and buried itself in the wall behind the place where Serenity had stood a moment before.

Lafe Renier laughed. He aimed at Serenity again. Jacob's nails raked the floor as he scrambled to his feet
and flung himself over the one who held his soul in her hands.

The second bullet flew past Jacob's ear, taking a tiny crescent of flesh with it. Jacob didn't move. He had but one purpose now and for the rest of his life, even if that life was to be counted in seconds.

The third bullet never came. Renier was falling, a look of amazement on his face, and Virgil was standing over him with a gun in his hand. Then he, too, was falling, and a flurry of struggling bodies spun past Jacob like a dust devil made of limbs and fur and flashing white teeth. A female voice swore in voluble Spanish. More shots, and then…

Nothing. No movement, no sound. Jacob lifted his head. Serenity's breath puffed against the fur of his neck, and she opened her eyes.

It was over. As the crimson haze cleared from Jacob's eyes, he smelled the stench of gunfire and blood and sweat.

And something more. Something that couldn't be defined by man or wolf. He rose, taking Serenity's weight as she dug her fingers in his fur and pulled herself to her feet.

There were bodies—Renier's men and Renier himself—but only two were bereft of life: Renier and Virgil, who lay on his back almost as if he were sleeping. Of the gun there was no sign. Lester crouched beside the younger man, tears running down his weathered cheeks.

Lafe Renier was on his stomach, his face hidden from sight, but from the look of him he'd taken Virgil's bullet straight through the heart. The other two
outlaws who had been in the room were down as well, but both were at least partly conscious and moving, if feebly.

Caridad, Victoria and a naked Zora stood over their prisoners—Caridad, as always, prepared to shoot at the slightest sign of opposition. Victoria was nursing a wounded shoulder, hastily bound with strips of torn cloth.

Serenity bent her head to kiss Jacob's forehead, smiled into his eyes and then ran to her friends, embracing each of them in turn. She took special care with Victoria, who gave her a shaky grin.

What they said after that was only so much noise to Jacob. He crept to the open back door and slipped out.

There were bodies there as well, but Harl was still alive, bound hand and foot, and clearly too weak to attempt escape. The second man—Louis, Jacob figured—was moaning over a shattered knee. Ned lay on his side in wolf shape, but no breath lifted his ribs.

Three dead. There was only one for whom Jacob mourned. Virgil had set aside his deepest beliefs to defend one he considered a rival and an enemy. His sacrifice had been more than honorable, whatever his motives. And Lafe Renier's death had expunged the fell purpose Jacob had always carried in his heart, masked, but never erased, by the Code.

The Code was dead now, too. Jacob had shattered it beyond repair. He had forgotten all the principles of justice. He had deceived Serenity about his relationship with the Reniers, and put both her and the entire Quaker community in danger because of his deception. He had given himself over to bloody vengeance. And
he had put that vengeance ahead of the safety of those he was sworn to protect.

Ahead of Serenity.

The pall of smoke that had hung in the air had begun to disperse on the late-morning breeze, leaving a faint stain of brown and gray that smelled of sorrow. Jacob trotted to the skeleton of the cottage Virgil had set afire, dipping his paws in the ashes. He circled it twice, then followed his nose to another cottage, where a dying woman lay.

There were five women inside, two weeping. All were still breathing. Jacob set off again, sniffing out the Quakers in hiding without letting them see him. No one else had suffered more than an ugly scare. Elizabeth and the children were gone, but Jacob was certain they had escaped before threat had erupted into violence.

He could do no more for any of them. If he showed himself, they would see only a monster.

Because that was what he had become.

Breaking into a run, Jacob raced away from the settlement and across the road, forcing his way through the brush and trees. He burst out onto the riverbank and plunged into the water, drenching his fur to the skin.

It made no difference. He couldn't wash his shame away. The only thing he could do now was keep on running—away from the end of the Code, from the shreds of his honor, and from Serenity most of all. He would take nothing with him. There would be no farewells. He would go naked into the wilderness, and perhaps—one day, before he died—he would find himself. And forgive.

He dragged himself to the opposite bank, flung back his head and howled. “Jacob!”

Serenity ran out onto the bank across the river, her loose hair flying.

“Jacob!” she cried again, sliding down to the water's edge. “Where are you going?”

He backed away. A few short steps would carry him into the thicket behind him.

“No!” Serenity waded into the river, soaking her skirts, stumbling and righting herself again. “Whatever it is, Jacob, you can't give in! Not now!”

Her struggles were more than Jacob could bear. He plunged back into the water, seized her skirts and pulled her the rest of the way to the bank. She sat down hard, breathing fast. When he tried to move away, she wound her fingers in his waterlogged coat and refused to let go.

“Why are you running?” she asked, her eyes bright with tears. “Because you wanted to kill Renier?” She tugged his fur, forcing him to move closer to her. “That wasn't you. That was your hatred. I know how it becomes your world, consumes every good thing inside you. For so long you resisted it, but none of us can reject our darkest selves without paying a price.” She buried her face in his mane. “Letting go means losing yourself. It's like being born again and having to learn life from the beginning, like a child.”

Little by little, relentless as drops of water wearing down a mountain, her words reached through the darkness.
Being born again.
Wasn't that what he had wanted?

“Come back, Jacob,” Serenity whispered. “Come back to me.”

With a groan of surrender he Changed.

Her fingers slipped on his bare chest, gripped again at his shoulders.

“Jacob?” She searched his face, his eyes.

Still, he didn't hold her, though it was the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his life. She was his anchor. She had been the strong one from the very beginning. She had become his life.

But he couldn't ask her to feel the same about him, not when he had nearly gotten her killed.

“I can't stay with you,” he said hoarsely.

Her gaze was as steadfast as her hold on his flesh. “Because you can't love me?”

He laughed, and moisture ran from his eyes. “How could you love me after my failures? I let you believe I hardly knew the Reniers. I didn't tell you about the feud. I didn't tell you they were the ones who killed my wife.”

“I know you had your reasons.”

“They weren't good enough. I would have killed Renier and let you…let you—”

“Did you hear anything I said?” She took his face between her hands. “You didn't let me die. You would have given your life for mine. Not only today, but a hundred times since the day we met. You are the best man I have ever known.”

“Lester, William, all the others…they're the good ones.”

“It's not so hard to be good when you live by rules
you have known all your life,” she said. “The hard part is making your own and staying true to them.”

Jacob closed his eyes. “Virgil broke his rules saving my life.”

“It was his choice. I will always grieve for him, and I will always be grateful for his sacrifice.” She pulled his face down to hers. “You can't punish yourself forever. Ruth wouldn't want that if she loved you the way I think she did. I know you loved her very much, and maybe you can't feel that way about anyone else ever again. But I…I will take anything you can give, even if it's only your friendship for the rest of our lives.”

New lives. New hope. A rebirth into a new world of their own making, a new Code of joy. Of love.

He cupped her cheek in his hand. “You'll take me…as I am?”

“Forever.”

“Then I'll come with you. But only if you let me love you.”

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