Scent of Valor (Chronicles of Eorthe #2) (5 page)

She did as he asked. The firelight glinted off chain mail under their worn leather coats, which would turn away tooth and claw. Some wore swords but all carried muskets. The blades did little in fights against shifters, but the guns did a lot of damage. It was how the vampires had won the war. How they managed to kill her parents and the Yaundeeshaw alphas. It burned her gut, but Peder was right.

“We stay alive tonight to fight another day.” He curled against her back. “Try to get some sleep. I suspect we won’t be given much rest tomorrow.”

Chapter Eight

The axle of the carriage looked new and strong as Benic ran his gloved hand over it. Made of vampire steel, it should handle the load of Inacio’s luggage. Why his incubus needed so many clothes when he spent most of his time naked was an eternal mystery.

“Have you no faith in your stableman’s skill?” Inacio bent to watch him creep under the horse carriage testing the essential parts.

“The best way to ruin a trip is to get stranded between cities on a broken carriage.” Benic met his impatient stare. “Trust me. I tend to learn from my mistakes after I’ve made them a few times.”

With a huff, Inacio returned to pacing.

All the wheel spokes appeared intact and sturdy. Benic kicked a few for good measure. Had he forgotten something? He checked his pockets: wallet, letters of identification for him and Inacio, small container of sugared mints. Maybe he should bring maps? There wasn’t any hurry to return. They could extend their journey. He hadn’t seen the ocean in decades.

Inacio blocked his path. “Where are you going?”

“To get some maps.”

He sighed and stepped out of Benic’s way. “I think I will retire for the afternoon. Send someone for me when you are truly ready to depart.”

The sound of hard steps hitting the ground drew Benic’s attention. A shifter dressed in wall guard uniform skidded to a stop before him. “My lord, a group of shifters in feral form are racing toward the castle.”

“I assume they’re not bearing gifts.” Grease covered his hands and he wiped them clean on his pants. Didn’t seem like a good day to travel after all. Not with wild shifters hunting for a taste of vampire. What had he done now?

“No, sir.” The shifter guard seemed barely old enough to fit in the uniform.

“Go on. Tell your captain I’m on my way. Do not open the gates.” He cared for four hundred domesticated shifters. They’d shift to fight, but against their more aggressive cousins of the forest, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Vampires had bred the wild out of their shifters long ago. It was such a pity.

The young soldier saluted vampire-style and loped away in a puppy-ish fashion.

Inacio rolled his eyes. “Another delay?”

“This one is not of my doing.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you to arrange such a diversion, even if it were only to relieve your boredom.”

Benic buttoned his jacket and straightened it. “You forget yourself.”

“I remember exactly what I am to you. I just lack the ability to care anymore.” Inacio turned his back on him and stormed back into the tower of the castle they shared.

Was this what it was like to be married? He wondered at his own sanity to have been pursuing such a goal for the last two decades.

Life had seemed hard when he traveled the world on his own, but upon reflection, he didn’t recall this dull, empty ache in his chest plaguing him day and night. He strolled to the outer walls that surrounded the castle and small town. Heartbreak shouldn’t take so long to heal. Seven months seemed more than enough time.

The market square teemed with people. Small packs of pups raced through the crowd with faces covered in sticky honey. One of the mothers shouted at them to slow down when she spotted him.

He smiled and shook his head. Children and their noise didn’t bother him in the least. He would take their joyous cries of play over the silence of his halls any day.

Word of the wild shifters must not have spread to the general population yet. He should remember to praise the young guard when he arrived. His shifters appreciated living within his castle walls and were there of their free will, not because he owned them or coerced their loyalty. Many vampires still hadn’t learned that shifters responded better to kindness than whips.

The stone walls rose ahead of him, not that the height would keep wild shifters from scaling them. What deterred them were the guards that lined the top, armed with crossbows. He climbed the stairs to the ramparts where the captain of the wall guard met him.

“My lord.” He led Benic to the wall’s edge and pointed to the large pack of feral shifters waiting below by the gate.

The flow of smooth black fur, like dragon silk, on the largest male caught Benic’s eye. Ahote. So these shifters were Payami. He was more familiar with the male hunter than he cared to be. Benic leaned over the wall so they could see his face. “Are you here to accompany me to the mating celebrations?”

Collectively, the pack flinched and fur rose along their spines until they resembled porcupines more than wolves.

He hadn’t expected cheers, or even laughter, at his jest, but he hadn’t expected this outward display of hate. It wasn’t like he had raped Kele. He barely petted her pretty fur. Yes, he had chained her to his bedroom wall, but the only other option had been the dungeon. The pack didn’t know of Inacio’s taste in the bedroom or why Benic had chains there in the first place.

The guards aimed their crossbows at their wild cousins. It was against vampire law for shifters to use muskets.

Benic lifted his hand. “Hold your fire.”

Ahote separated himself from the others. A brave move, or a foolish one, depending on one’s point of view. “There was an attack on Temple lands yesterday.”

“Which packs were involved?” And was Kele safe?

“Yaundeeshaw and Payami.”

“The mating packs?” There hadn’t been such a coup by the packs in ages, before even his time as lord of these lands. “Is Kele well?”

Some of the hunters paced on all fours as if ready to attempt breaking through the three-foot-thick wooden gate. He’d never seen a pack so upset. Not since the wars.

“Ahote, what’s happened?”

“I can’t scent him properly from here. The castle stink is too strong.” A slight female spoke from the group. She didn’t appear to be a hunter. Her build and stance suited a crafter more. Packs were divided into the alpha couple, hunters, crafters, who were the skilled workers, and omegas, who were the artists, caretakers, and servants.

Ahote set his hands on his hips in civil form fashion and shook his head. “I need to speak with you down here where she can smell you better.” Shifters were the world’s best truth detectors.

Benic’s captain leaned over to inspect the group. “From this angle, I wouldn’t be able to protect you well. They’d tear you apart before we got a second volley into them.”

“They’ll never believe anything I say until they can smell me.” He didn’t have a death wish, particularly for being eaten alive. “I have to go down before this escalates.” What by the devil had happened in the forest?

“You should take six of your best males with you.”

Benic agreed, but the wild hunters were trained to fight since the day of their birth. Six of his shifter guards wouldn’t make a difference if the Payami wanted him dead. “What do you make of that female?”

“She’s probably their best truth sayer. Some of us are better at smelling a lie than others.”

Most vampires were rather experts at twisting the truth, himself included, but he didn’t have anything to hide. He’d been emerging from a weeks-long drunken state. Benic could barely remember yesterday. He scratched his chin and assessed the wall and its complement of guards. No point in getting them all killed. “I’ll go below alone.” He’d spent a large portion of his time as lord developing relationships with these wild packs. Some still hated him for their shared history of blood, but the Payami had once called him friend. He mourned that loss.

The captain sputtered.

Benic held up his hand again. “Be ready for an attack. Have soldiers at the door. Call for my personal guard to come down to the wall.” By the time he climbed down and made his way through the gate, his vampire brothers would be ready to jump from the top of the walls to fight. He just hoped none of them jumped prematurely—not all of them shared his love of shifters.

Frowning at his attire, he regretted not donning his chain mail this morning. The fine leathers of his jacket and pants would do little against an attack. In the past, Ahote had expressed a curiosity about how he’d taste. Benic could only hope Ahote’s alphas had ordered him not to shred him to tiny bits.

Using a small door by the gate, he exited his home. Locks slammed back in place as soon as the door shut behind him, just as he’d ordered.

Ahote waited with his arms crossed, his claws already extended, the tips buried in his fur.

Benic extended his arms so they’d see he’d come unarmed. “I’m here.”

The female came to stand next to Ahote.

“Did you attack our alphas?” The dark shifter’s voice cracked with raw emotion.

Now that Benic stood among them, the shadow of their grief and rage hovered like a storm about to break. “No.” He stared at the female truth sayer. “Tell him.” He pointed at Ahote. “I speak the truth. I had nothing to do with whatever has transpired.”

“He smells like truth,” she whispered.

“Vampires are good at twisting their words.” Ahote stepped forward until their chests almost touched. His claws flexed as if he imagined piercing Benic’s flesh. “Look me in the eye vampire and tell me you didn’t kill my alphas.”

Benic jerked as if he’d been struck. “Dead?” That wasn’t possible. He’d wanted Inali as pack alpha at least another decade to help smooth out their relationship.

Ahote grabbed his collar and pulled him up to meet his glare.

A warning musket shot landed in the dirt by the shifter’s feet.

“Hold your fire, damn it,” Benic shouted over his shoulder at the wall. How could he get answers from a shifter corpse?

“You couldn’t stand Kele mating someone else. You killed our alphas and took Kele again.” Spit flew from Ahote’s muzzle and landed on Benic’s face.

“No, I didn’t.” Who would have the balls to attack the Payami? No other pack was as rich or as strong in hunters. Sorin didn’t have land hunger like some alphas, so he doubted he’d done it. “The Yaundeeshaw alphas?”

“They’re dead.”

He could see the spaces between Ahote’s teeth as he spoke.

The small female laid her hands on Ahote’s arm. “He’s speaking the truth. He really doesn’t know what’s happened.”

“Why do you need her to tell you? Can’t you smell the truth on me yourself?”

“Not so close to this stinking place. I have to be sure.” He set Benic on the ground not too gently.

He looked up at his vampire brothers on the wall. “Send for my armor and sword. Gather the horses. We’re riding to Temple lands now.”

“That’s not necessary. We’ll track down the cowards ourselves.” Ahote turned as if to leave.

“And your pack, who’s holding them together during this time of grief?”

The hunter hesitated. “No one. We can’t find Kele’s body. I’d hoped to find her here.”

“Are others missing?”

Ahote glanced at the other shifters, then at Benic. “Yes. What does this mean?”

“I’m not sure.”

The gates opened and his squire arrived with his things and his horse. Benic tossed on his worn chain mail and strapped on his sword. His vampire guards joined him.

As they rode behind the running shifters, he explained what had transpired. Someone had come to his land and stolen his shifters. Under vampire law, wild shifters were not protected, but on Benic’s land those shifters belonged to him.

The ride to the Temple crept at a snail’s pace. He pushed the horses and shifters both at a hard stride until they crested the hill and the Temple’s stone walls glared between the trees. Reflexively, his fangs sprung free. Blood had recently been spilled there. He smelled it in the soil, he tasted it in the air. Benic stopped his horse and dismounted in fear of disrupting any evidence under the new spring growth. His men did the same and spread out.

The shifters had already removed the bodies. Damn it. “How many were killed?” They probably tramped all over the land and destroyed any indication of who had the balls to trespass on his land and poach.

“Both mating parties agreed to the alpha couples and three hunters each. We found six dead.”

“So six were taken.”

“Seven.”

Benic jumped. A deep-seated fear still echoed in his body at the familiar voice.

Sorin, alpha of the Apisi, a hunter so great he’d sneaked past Benic’s guards and the Payami hunters, rose from the underbrush that should have been too sparse to hide such a frightfully large shifter. “Peder left my lands yesterday to come here. He never returned.” Sorin held out his palm where a tiny sharp dart lay. “I found this in the mountain pass.”

“That’s not mine.” He hated the way his denial tumbled out so fast. Ever since Sorin had stalked him on these very lands, then used him as a pincushion for his own sword, the silver shifter had haunted Benic’s nightmares.

“I know.” The alpha’s response rumbled like a rock fall. “It bears the scent of a different vampire. One who is not among your guards.”

Benic forced the tremble in his hands to stop and took a deep breath. Sorin had had enough time to smell all his guards before showing himself? He’d never ride these woods in ease while this shifter lived. “I had nothing to do with this attack.” He spoke plainly so both Sorin and Ahote would be assured of his honesty. To survive this day, he must reek of truth.

“Then who?” Sorin handed the dart to Ahote, who sniffed it.

“My best guess is poachers.” Benic made note of where each of his vampire guards stood. As soon as Sorin had made his presence known, the warriors had circled around the shifters slowly.

Suddenly, both shifter males’ heads swiveled north as the wind changed. Growls rose among the hunters.

Benic drew his sword as his guards moved in formation around him. “Who is it?”

“Yaundeeshaw,” Ahote whispered.