Lone Wolf (The Westervelt Wolves, Book 8) (6 page)

He called his human body back. This time he knew he’d shifted once too many times that day. Soon, he would collapse and there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it.

“Brother.” Gabriel reached out for him and Tristan caught him as he stumbled.

“Gabriel.” Tears streamed from Tristan’s eyes. “Are you hurt? Did you try to stop one of the mated men? What has happened? How could this be? Who could do this to us? The pack is destroying itself.”

“Tristan, tell me something.” He could barely form the words, but he had to know if his father had done what he’d said he would do. “Do you know someone named Carrie?”

His brother blinked rapidly. “Gabriel, did you hear me? The mates are all dying. We are all that is left. Unmated males. Mom, she got the unmated women off the island. But she’s gone now. Father butchered her.”

Tristan continued to ramble on, but Gabriel couldn’t hear him. The world spun and blackness took him over. One thing was for certain; their should-be Alpha had no idea Gabriel was mated or that Carrie even existed.

His father’s spell had worked.

Chapter 4

“We have to burn them.” Michael’s voice cracked as he looked at Gabriel. They both leaned against the wall of the Institute, the primary headquarters of the Westervelt pack. “All of them. We can’t possibly bury them en masse.”

Gabriel hit the back of his head against the concrete building. The thumping of his head made the ache in his soul a little more bearable. If he could concentrate on small pains he could avoid thinking about really large ones.

“Are you listening to me?” His brother scowled. It had only been ten hours since the massacre. None of them were in their right minds.

“I am.” He nodded. He had, in fact, heard every word his older brother uttered. There just didn’t seem to be anything worthwhile to add to the conversation.

“And you think what? Yes, we should burn them, or no, we shouldn’t?” Michael’s tone suggested he might explode at any second. That would really be a sight. His older brother so rarely lost his temper that when he did it always shocked everyone. Today seemed a good day to go a little berserk.

“Michael, you’re Alpha now. If you want to burn them, that’s what we do.”

“You and I both know I shouldn’t be Alpha.”

The telepathic communication boomed around inside his head. Without his wolf there to take the magic, that way of talking actually caused him pain. Not that he could say anything.

He stared at Michael. “Brother. I think there’s something I’d like to tell you.”

Michael’s weary eyes met his own. “What would that be?”

Carrie’s beautiful brown eyes flitted in front of his vision. “Nothing. Never mind.”

Tristan approached. “What have you decided, my Alpha?” His brother’s sincere gaze implored Michael to make a decision. Gabriel wondered if Tristan noticed Michael flinched at the word Alpha.
Probably not
. Tristan tended to only see the good in everyone around them, a trait that would have to be destroyed before he could take his rightful place in the pack.

“We’re going to burn them.”

Tristan’s jaw clenched. “Even Mom?”

“Everyone had a mom,” Gabriel snapped. Anger pulsated in his temple. “Every member of our pack still alive at one time had mated parents.”

Carrie’s mother and father came to mind. The memory of her mother’s proud face on the day of their mating made his stomach turn. They’d been so glad she’d mated a Kane. A royal. Ha! Now the name Kane would never stand for anything but death and destruction.

Tristan looked down. “You’re right, of course.”

“Damn it, Tristan. Don’t you ever look down with me. I’m not your gods-damned Alpha. Your wolf can’t be telling you that’s what you should be doing.”

Tristan met his gaze. “I know it had to be disconcerting when you blacked out earlier. It’s a strange day, and—”

“Be who you’re supposed to be, or go fuck yourself.” Gabriel rubbed his eyes. His wolf would have lambasted him for that statement if he’d been around to take him to task.

Hello?
He had to keep checking. Maybe his wolf would, at some point, change his mind and come back to him. Silence answered him again.
Damn it.

He charged away from his brothers, ignoring Tristan’s call to him. He knew what they wanted. Gabriel should be taking charge like he always had when things got rough, should be leading the crew to save all of their lives. He was their head warrior wolf. Even if Tristan—who should be Alpha—had been leading, Gabriel would be helping. Since Tristan didn’t seem to know himself to be the natural leader, Michael had to hold the pack together until he did. The gods knew Michael could use Gabe’s help. In many ways. But how could he do that? Carrie had been taken from him. He swallowed, knowing himself to be a selfish bastard.

With the exception of his own mating, which no one could remember, and his aunts, whose mates had killed themselves—as Gabe should have done—in order to keep from killing their mates, every joined couple had died that morning. He didn’t know if his aunts would be able to make it. They were the most powerful magic wolves he’d ever known. But even that might not sustain them. Murder and then suicide. Over and over again.

He still had Carrie’s soul deep down inside him. What would he do if he lost that? Closing his eyes, he made himself count to ten. He’d made a decision to keep her safe—it still resonated as the right choice in his conscience. Hopefully it always would.

Opening his eyes, he ran back toward where his brothers stood. They hadn’t moved. He cleared his throat. “All right. Michael wants to burn them; we need to get that ready. Tristan, would you like to gather everyone together? Let them know? We’ll have a blaze started in no time if we all work together.”

Tristan nodded and took off running. Gabriel regarded Michael. “You know we have to make him Alpha. We have to make him see the truth of his path.”

“No choice now. I’ll hold this together as long as I can, but I’m not going to take the Alpha challenge. There have to be plans made. A way to destroy Father. There will never be peace in Westervelt while he lives.” Michael would never age, not until he mated, but Gabriel thought he looked twenty years older in just the hours since the destruction.

“Then maybe that’s what I can do.” An idea formulated in Gabe’s mind. “I can keep training us. When we attack Dad or he attacks us again we can be really ready. He’ll never see us coming.”

And when he asks me to hold up my end of the bargain by telling him things, I’ll be able to withhold information. Tell him about Michael. Tristan. Az. Not about what I’m doing. He’ll never know how ready we are to defeat him
.

Gabriel pointed to the clearing where they always held the mating ceremonies. A vision of Carrie walking toward him that day came and left his mind. He rubbed his eyes. It had only been hours since they’d parted. How on earth would he make it years?

No
. He clenched his fists.
I told Kendrick I wouldn’t break, and I’ll live by that
.

“Put the stuff we need for the fire over there. No matings are going to take place there for the foreseeable future. Let’s honor the ones that did take place by ending their time here where once they were happy.”

“Good idea.” Michael squatted down onto the ground. “Do you think it’s weird that none of us, none of his sons, were mated? Shouldn’t one of us be in that pile too?”

One of us should be there
. “No. I guess it’s statistics. I mean, look at Cullen. He’s not mated, and he’s been around forever. There just aren’t that many matings.”

“True.” Gabriel stood. “How could he stand it? After he killed Mom? Why didn’t he kill himself?”

“The aunts are making it. They’re withstanding the pull to die for all of us.”

Michael kicked the dirt. “Are you suggesting Dad is acting altruistically and keeping himself alive for all of our sakes?”

“No.” Gabriel looked up at the sun. How could it be shining today? Shouldn’t it have fallen from the sky in tribute to the world ending? “Dad’s evil. To his core. He probably paid some fucking witch to keep him alive. Mom deserved better. She got the unmated women off the island and then stood there and waited for him. That’s bravery.”

Carrie had waited too. She hadn’t gotten on that boat even when she knew others were dying. Where did the women in his life find their courage? How did they hold on to their love when all the sense in the universe should have them running for their lives away from their crazed mates?

The pack members started to arrive in the clearing. Some were carrying wood, some kindle. Cullen held a large bucket of what Gabriel would bet money held kerosene. He shook his head. Leave it to their enforcer to know just how to make things catch fire. Behind them more of their thirty still living pack members carried bodies.

Tristan walked up behind them. “Everyone’s working on it. You know, I was thinking that we can’t give them individual burials, but maybe we could at least acknowledge them one by one before we put them in the flames. A statement that they lived and that we loved them. They’re all our family.”

Gabriel nodded. “We say good-bye and then we find a way to rebuild from the ashes they leave behind.”

But could the flames burn hot enough to scald away his sins?

* * * *

“Kendrick.” Carrie banged her hands on the bars of the cage he’d shoved her in. At first he’d tried to keep her in a room, but she’d nearly gotten out several times so now she’d been banished to the cage. In her human form. It didn’t matter. Her wolf paced around as much as she did. Shifters didn’t respond well to imprisonment. Now she knew why that lesson had been drilled into her mind.

A woman popped into the room and Carrie growled. The Drea woman that Kendrick had apparently taken to sleeping with. “You.”

“Me.” Drea smiled. “Yes, dear. You’re going to get used to me. You’re here until Kendrick can either turn Gabriel to our side or I can figure out how to magically maneuver him. Then he’ll be no use for you. We’ll even let you leave. Where will you go? No one at Westervelt even knows who you are.”

“I’m aware of my situation, you bitch.”

Her mother would be appalled at her choice of language. But then again, her father had murdered her mom. Perhaps the woman who raised her wouldn’t care that much about her vulgarity anymore.

“Then why are you screaming? You don’t really expect Kendrick to come here to deal with you?”

Carrie banged the cage bar. Her hand throbbed in response.

Take it easy
, her wolf warned.

“I have been here for weeks. I need to know what is going on. I want to speak to Gabriel.”

“That’s cute.” Drea bent over her cage. Carrie could smell the woman’s perfume, and whatever it had been made from hadn’t come from nature. Weren’t witches supposed to be in tune with their surroundings? She smelled like she’d walked out of some kind of factory.

Carrie called the shift on herself before she could change her mind. In two seconds, the white light had transformed her into her wolf. Before Drea could react, Carrie had her paw out of the cage and digging into the woman’s neck.

The witch screamed, blood streaming down her neck. She hadn’t nicked an artery.

I want to kill her
.

Carrie nodded at her wolf.
I know, but if we kill her Kendrick might take it badly.

Drea darted backward, a scream to wake the dead filling the room. Kendrick burst through the door. In one second, he’d assessed the situation and his wolf appeared in his eyes.

Sick wolf
. Her wolf sneered.
Notice how his eyes aren’t all wolf anymore? He lost that when he lost Westervelt
.
He should be put down
.

Believe me, I want to
. Her mouth watered at the thought.

In the corner, Drea uttered an incantation that Carrie figured had to be a healing spell of some kind. That suited her just fine. She didn’t want the woman dead, or Drea would have died. It had seemed important that they all remember Carrie had claws and knew how to use them.

Kendrick knelt down next to Drea and kissed the side of her face. When he stood up, he had some of her blood on him. Carrie shifted back. As she leaned against the back of the cage, she stared at the red gobs on Kendrick’s face. He made no move to lick the remains off himself or to even wipe it off with his sleeve.

“You’ve got a little something.” She pointed to her cheek. “Right there.”

“I’ve been gentle with you.” He banged the cage doors like she had turned into a zoo animal and he wanted to punish her with the sound. “And you attack my mate?”

“Your mate?” she snarled. “You killed her. Back at Westervelt. This abomination of a woman is nothing but a pathetic hanger-on to whatever power-hungry nonsense you’ve cooked up.” She hoped the
asshole
she wanted to end that sentence with could be implied.

“I was going to leave you alone. But now I’m going to make you work for your food. If you want to eat, to not die or be tortured, you’re going to do whatever I want you to do whenever I want it.”

“Not. Frickin’. Likely.”

Kendrick growled before he opened the cage. With a hard yank he pulled her out into the room. She clawed at him. Gabriel wanted her to live, and she never wanted to be responsible for his death, but she didn’t know if she could continue on another day. He had the strength to endure. She obviously did not.

“Actually, this is fortuitous.” Kendrick acted as if her struggles meant nothing to him. He’d always been strong. “I need an assistant. You see, I have this idea. I’m making myself an army. Well, Claudius, Drea, and I are doing it together. You can help.”

“I’d rather die.” She would never help him do anything that might place Westervelt in danger. Even if her pack didn’t remember her, she would never forget them.

“That’s not an option. One way or another you stay alive. That doesn’t, however, mean you have to ever be comfortable again.”

She kicked him hard in the shins as he dragged her down a long hallway. Two lights flickered above her head and her eyes hurt from looking at them. “Keeping me in a cage is your idea of comfort?”