From the Ashes (Force of Nature Book 1) (25 page)

I looked to Knox, not realizing that he was staring at me. His expression was dark and unreadable. Tears stained my cheeks, but I quickly wiped them away. It was not time for my weakness. It was time to prove that their sacrifice meant something. I would not see any others fall because of me.

I turned and went back to the wounded wolves, helping however and wherever I could. It seemed as though very few made it out relatively unscathed. While I worked, I finally came upon Jagger, whose hands were scorched from trying to save one of his packmates. They had already been cleansed since arriving at the house and were healing, but the gaping wound in his leg had not. I tended to the gash in his thigh, keeping my eyes low and focused. I was too ashamed to meet his gaze.

“I know you blame yourself, Piper,” he said softly, wincing a bit when I doused his leg with the liquid from the bottle Knox had given me. “But you shouldn't. After the night we met you, Knox explained that he knew something was after you. Hell, Foust pegged you for a runaway after being around you for five minutes.” I dared to sneak a look at his face. All I found in his expression was compassion. “Anyway, Knox told us his suspicions and made it clear that he was willing to do anything he could to keep you safe, but allowed the rest of us that choice for ourselves. But don't say anything to him about that. He'd deny it. He's a tough guy, but he's not unreasonable. In some matters, he lets us have a choice.”

“And what did you choose?” I asked, my hands lingering on Jagger's thigh, holding a bandage in place to be wrapped.

He shrugged.

“Look around, Piper. Isn't it obvious what we chose?”

“All of you? All of you chose to be part of this fight? A fight that isn't yours? Against unknown enemies?” He nodded. “Why? Why would you ever agree to something so insane?”

“Because it's been a long time since any one of us has had something worth fighting for.”

My eyes dropped to the floor.

“If you knew me—really knew me—you wouldn't think that.”

“We don't need to think, Piper. Not about this. We work on instinct. That's our gift and our curse. And our collective instincts said that we needed to protect you. At least until you can protect yourself.” I tied off the bandage and stood on shaky legs. “That's not really going to be necessary,” he said, unwrapping what I'd just tied up. “Now that we're near Knox, we'll heal up in no time.”

“What?” I asked absentmindedly, scanning the room to find evidence that supported his words.

“We needed to be cleaned out first, of course. Magical wounds are infections waiting to happen—and don't even get me started on silver wounds—but once they're flushed clean and we have Knox's power to draw on, we're good to go.”

I turned to the kitchen again, only to find that the other wolf on the island was now covered with a sheet as well. Two fatalities. Apparently Jagger's little theory was more complicated than he'd let on.

“They don't seem so good to go,” I said, staring at the dead.

“Their injuries were far worse than the rest of ours,” he said solemnly. “We had limited supplies in the SUVs and we lost too much time on the ride home to save them. If Knox had been there, they would have pulled through. But...he wasn't, so...”

“Now they're dead.” I finished his sentence for him.

“It's still not your fault, Piper,” he reaffirmed, putting his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off and walked away from him. I couldn't bear to see the earnestness in his eyes. He really meant what he'd said, and yet somehow that made his sentiment all the worse.

“The hell it isn't,” I muttered under my breath, walking off toward the hallway that led back to the living quarters of the lodge. Before I could escape there, Knox cut me off, stepping directly in my path.

“I need to talk to the pack for a bit, but I don't want you going home. Not until I know more. Why don't you go get that rest you were so desperate for earlier, and I'll come get you when we're done.”

Looking over my shoulder to the room full of healing wolves, I sighed and nodded. Unable to meet Knox's eyes, I brushed past him and made my way to the guest room he'd offered me the first night I’d met him. Sad, scared, and full of remorse, I crawled into that bed and buried myself under the covers.

While Knox addressed his wolves, I racked my brain for a way out of this. A way that didn't involve any more of the wolves falling victim to Kingston's inexplicable vendetta against me. Was weakness really reason enough to want to erase me from the face of the Earth? Was it really that great an offense? As I considered those questions, I remembered that he was far from the only one that felt that way. My own mate had tried to kill me for precisely that reason, or at least in part. If Kingston was so hellbent on killing me that he would take on a pack of werewolves, then it was clear that he, like Merc, would not stop until he watched me meet my end.

By the time my mind had exhausted the myriad possibilities of how I could be caught and killed, as well as the numerous attempts at escape I could employ that would inevitably fail, I fell asleep. It was the only peace I would find for a while. The only successful escape from my reality that existed.

17

The sound of arguing awoke me.

I could hear them talking in the living room, the rush of their murmuring voices broken by an occasional outburst that carried all the way to the back of the hall. So much had happened. Too many were lost. I had never wanted things to turn out that way. It was the precise outcome I'd tried to avoid. And yet, they’d died anyway.

Good intentions gone bad; that was my life story.

Werewolves were not easy to sneak up on, but when they were embroiled in a heated discussion, it was possible to fly under their radar, apparently. I tiptoed down the hall, wanting to hear what they were saying more clearly. I also think a small part of me wanted to be punished for my selfishness. I never should have stayed when they’d found me out, but regardless, I had. That part wanted to hear the pain in their voices, the sting of their words as they cursed the day I’d come around. Revoked their bizarre allegiance to me. Maybe they were planning their revenge. A revenge I deserved. Hearing that would certainly spur me to act.

Maybe that would make me leave.

“We'll get answers when she's ready to give them,” Knox growled. The others went silent. Just as the room quieted, I stepped on a squeaky floorboard and my attempt at stealth was crushed in an instant. “Piper?” he called, coming around the corner to find me halfway down the hall. “Good. You're up. C'mon, the boys want to see you.”

He ushered me into the great room to stare down a sea of mourning werewolves. It was almost more than I could bear. Then I saw Grayson, the youngest in the pack, just beyond them, pale and in pain, breathing hard on the couch. He had been badly burned, though not as badly as the other two that had already died. By the look of him, he wasn't far from meeting that same end.

I felt a tear run down my cheek as I clutched my stomach with my folded arms. My tell, as Knox liked to call it.

“Is he...?”

“He should make it, but he's in rough shape. Even with his burns flushed out and his proximity to me, he's struggling to heal. Whatever magic that warlock wields, it's dark and it's powerful.”
Don't I know it,
I thought to myself. “Pain meds don't work so well on us, so all we can do is watch him struggle and suffer. I can't even imagine how bad it is for him right now.”

“I can,” I said without thinking, my feet carrying me toward the couch. The burns covering Grayson's entire torso practically called to me.

“Really?” one of the guys shouted out, halting my approach. “You look like you got away pretty unscathed.”

“Brunton!” Knox barked, silencing the wolf. “Your bullshit isn't going to help anything right now. Got it?”

“No, it's okay, Knox,” I said softly, turning to face him. “I deserve that. He's right. I did get away scot free...this time.”

“This time?” Knox asked, his stare homing in on me.

I had the attention of the whole pack, all of them staring at me with myriad expressions. Jagger looked sad. Foust looked exhausted, running his hand over his face repeatedly. Knox, however, was all business. He was about to get the answers he'd been waiting for all along, and I could see that he had already decided he wasn't going to be a fan of them.

Smart guy.

With a heavy sigh, I let go of my abdomen and grabbed the hem of my shirt. With one fluid motion, I pulled it up over my head and threw it down. The collective gasp from the pack was more than I could handle. I could no longer meet their eyes.

“This is what happens to those that the warlocks deem as prey,” I said, looking to my right out the window. “And that's all I've ever been to them and all the other Magicals, for that matter: prey. So one day they decided that my weakness should no longer be tolerated and had a little bonfire at my expense.” When nobody spoke, I forced myself to turn and face them. “They ambushed me when I was out for a run. They held me down with magic and set me ablaze.”

“Motherfucker...” Foust exhaled.

“They watched for a while—until they got bored with my screaming—then they left me in the park to burn. They walked away, laughing the entire time. I was always a joke to them. Apparently my death was, too.”

“But how...?” Jagger started, unable to finish his thought.

“How am I still alive?” He nodded his head. “It started to rain.”

“But their fire was magical,” Knox interjected, coming closer to me. I took a step back instinctively. “Normal rain shouldn't have been able to put it out.”

“I don't know how or why, but all I know is that it stopped. I was found by some vampires—some of the king's enforcers—and they took me back to their mansion. Their doc did what she could to save me, but none of their medication had any effect on me.”

“Oh my God,” Knox breathed, staring at the marred expanse of tissue that covered my stomach.

“So,” I said, turning my attention toward Brunton, “I really do know how he feels right now, and believe me when I say that I couldn't possibly feel any more guilt about it. Nobody should suffer like that. Nobody.”

“How long?” Knox asked, nearly interrupting me. “How long did it take to heal?”

“There was no change in my condition for a couple of weeks—”

“Weeks!” he shouted. “You survived that hell for weeks?”

“I had some help,” I said softly. “One of the vampires...he helped me in a way. I guess it was similar to being in a chemically-induced coma. I didn't feel anything. Whenever I would come out of it enough to start screaming again, he would put me back into whatever state it was that made it all bearable.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked, his expression bleeding to one of sadness.

“Would you?” I posed the question to him with a little more heat than I'd meant to. “Would you want to run around airing this kind of dirty laundry to people you didn't know?”

“Piper—”

“No, Knox. I mean it. Is this something I should just parade around? You don't know where I've been, what I've had to do to survive without a family—a pack—to lean on. I was on my own for longer than I should have been and shit went wrong because of it. And I'm sorry that my baggage led to what happened today. I would give anything to change that if I could, even if it meant reliving this particular hell,” I screamed, gesturing to my stomach. “And believe me, it has been hell in more ways than I can even begin to describe.” Tears were flowing freely down my face by this point, my guilt-driven anger releasing all kinds of emotions that I'd neatly tucked away, never to be dealt with.

A sudden, single crack of thunder boomed through the air outside, shaking the house.

“I'm so sorry, Piper,” Knox whispered, looking me in the eyes for the first time since I'd removed my shirt.

“They don't conveniently stop at my waistband either, you know?” I spat, self-loathing plain in my tone. “That might make this a little more tolerable, but those boys were sure to do a thorough job and start where it counts.” My revelation was met with silence. “So now you know why they're after me. They want to finish the job they started. And I'm sure they'll make me pay for not dying the first time around. Or the second. Or the third for that matter. This particular group of warlocks' arrogance knows no bounds. Their pride was undoubtedly wounded with the knowledge of their failure. Someone will have to suffer for them to feel vindicated. And that someone is me.”

“That's not going to happen,” Foust growled as I slipped my shirt back on. “Those fuckers won't be getting within a ten-mile radius of you again if I have anything to say about it.”

“Don't you see?” I said, choking on a sob. “Maybe it would be better if they did. Maybe I need to draw them away from here and let fate run its course. The supernatural world is really no different than the human one in some ways. Survival of the fittest. The strongest. The most powerful.”

“Don't say that,” Knox warned, his voice low and husky. I looked over to find golden yellow eyes staring back at me. He was so overrun with anger that he was fighting hard against the Change.

“I'm not trying to be dramatic, Knox. I'm being practical. Those warlocks are only a drop in the bucket. If it isn't them, then it will be someone else. That's how it's always been.”