Wolf Magic: A Fantasy of Werewolves and Witches in the Twilight (2 page)

BOOK: Wolf Magic: A Fantasy of Werewolves and Witches in the Twilight
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Of course Les was an anomaly all himself and had been since birth.
Les acted with calculated behavior that didn't seem typical of a wolf.

Their Elders were slowly dying or being killed off by rogue hunters.  Their witch, Emese had left for her own reasons, leaving the pack open to attack from foreign wolves.
Since the witch was the backbone of the pack, they received more trouble. Emese had turned her back on the pack, setting off a trend amongst the males, who were fearful of the unknown. Without proper explanation of the prophecy by the witch, Elders, or anyone, the males were scared.

Kiba couldn
't possibly have known how angry their witch was for leaving.  She'd disappeared in the middle of the night without so much as a word to anyone.  Hell, their new witch, Selene was pretty close to leaving them as well. Being a human amongst wolves was not difficult per se, but it wasn't as easy as living with other humans. That's what Selene had told him.

Selene had argued with him about Emese.
She had to. Emese was her mother!  Selene argued that she had to have kept tabs on the wolves through their blood bond. She'd tried to reason with Kiba that her mother would never truly abandon the pack but the increasing tension amongst the pack had finally forced her away.

Kiba refused to believe it.
Finally, his stubbornness caused Selene to leave. She refused to listen to someone so bent on the pack's ultimate destruction. Kiba's determination for the pack to survive had transformed his behavior into that of an egomaniacal prick. He'd made sacrifices of some of the human kills to gods that didn't exist in their pantheon and even bargained with some of the hunters that Selene had warned him about.

The way he cavorted around with some of the younger wolves frightened her and she
'd told him so.

Snuffing off her ideas, Kiba thought she was a bitch for not wanting him.  Still, he secretly hoped she was every bit a survivor as she
'd made Emese out to be.  Hungarians, the Magyar, had to be.

He didn
't know if his pack had the same spirit of the Magyar or not.

It frightened him.

He let out a heavy, long breath and began walking up the trail leading into the village. It was time to eat. His stomach was rumbling and a breeze had begun to pick up. Snow would fall soon in this part of the land and the wolves would need all their strength in order to survive what he feared was a harsh winter coming. The wind talked and even in his perceived insanity, he still listened.

C
HAPTER 2

 

A loud thumping noise woke Marco.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked around.
"What happened?" He sniffed the air and smelled blood amongst other things in the forest. Being that they weren't far from Budapest, the stench of motor oil from the motorcyclist's biker camp also filled the air.

Uh oh.  This can
't be good.

Something was terribly wrong. Someone had died near where he was lying.

Who?

More importantly, how?

He sniffed the air again, his wolf senses picking up everything from the smell of the flowers and trees to the natural smell of the earth. But one combination of scents overpowered the rest.

Blood and gunpowder.

Using magic to appear human, Marco gripped the tree beside him for balance.  Why was he still alive?

A wind blew p
ast him, ruffling his dark hair and he shivered.

The elders were going to be pissed at him.

Again.

He groaned when he noticed the ruins of another wolf not far from where he stood.  The body was stiff and surrounded by insects.
Marco felt a wisp of dark energy brush his skin, sending chills racing up his back. Drops of blood dotted the fallen leaves for a few feet before it all stopped in a pool by a large tree. Gunshot holes marked the trunk of a few trees nearby.

Marco listened as the wind blew, telling a tale of whom and what were near him.

So far, nothing. No person, animal or otherwise. Just him and a dead wolf.

Great.

Marco swallowed hard. He didn't want to know who the dead wolf was, but, he already knew.

Józsi
's father.

Thank the goddess Boldog Asszony that Józsi had left the pack some time back, so he wouldn
't have to witness this.

But what was Józsi
's father doing out this far? Only the incredibly brave or stupid would come out this far for food.

Marco knew which one he was at that moment.

Someone was going to have to tell the elders. And someone was going to have to take responsibility. Why did it have to be him? For that matter, why was Józsi's father killed and Marco's own life spared?  It scared the shit out of him.

Looks like being the pack omega was truly a bad thing after all. No matter what the goddamned prophecy said.

Unable to remember anything about the previous day, Marco brushed himself off and made his way back to the pack near Szentendre.

* * * *

His body hurt. Again. The beating he'd endured earlier for his mishap was terrible enough but paled in comparison to being chastised by the Elders of the Opeth pack.

"
I swear I was just having fun with her, Elder Kiba. I didn't mean her any harm," Marcos said in explanation of his actions.

"
You were not asked for excuses for your behavior, Marco, so do not give them." Kiba closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. When Kiba opened his eyes, something dangerous flashed across his eyes and he scratched his head.

Marco
's breath caught in his throat.  He hated always being in trouble for little shit. Punishment for the death of Józsi's father, he could understand. But the elders chose to do nothing about the incident last week.

Surrounded by several large wolves and humans, Marco stood at the forest
's edge.  Trees swayed with the gentle breeze that failed to soothe his tension. Marco waited anxiously, his hackles raised. Not a new situation for him. Still, the well of emotions swelling inside his head bothered him. Guilt ate away at his conscience for last week's mishap. Even though no wolf could have predicted the hunters would have had a Turkish guide in their pocket, Marco should have known better than to go somewhere where he could be killed.

As usual at a loss for words over leading Lukina, the pack baby near the area while they played, a burning sensation settled in his stomach.
His cheeks burned as Kiba stared at him through narrow eyes.

The Elder, a tall, white haired, wrinkled old man sat atop a stone surrounded by wolves.
His piercing steel gray eyes narrowed at Marco. "You have done us great harm, Marco. You have endangered many of our cubs with your recklessness."

Stepping forward, Marco held out hi
s arms in an apologetic fashion. "But Elder, I only meant to—"

"
Silence." The white haired man made the gesture of cutting his arm across his body.

Marco flinched, even though there was no way the old man could reach him.
He could feel himself blushing like a girl, and barely kept himself from glancing around at the group to see if anyone had noticed. He stood as straight as he could, his hands balled into fists so no one could see him trembling in fear. It was all he could do to cope with his racing heart then he realized the elder had started talking again, and he tried harder to pay attention.

"
I'll have to confer with the other elders about your behavior, but right now it doesn't look favorable, Marco."

"
I swear I meant no harm in jumping ahead to protect Lukina."

"
No one ever does. But she is old enough to care for herself, even if her mate has left the country. Ilona has made sure Lukina would always be taken care of."  The elder closed his eyes once more.

Marco slowly exhaled as the elder conferred with the others in low, menacing tones.
They could have used telepathy, but they were acting according to their damned rituals, all muttering and mumbling and chanting at once, so that even his sharp ears could not make sense of the noise. He concentrated on his breathing, on holding his hands steady, trying to make out what they were saying.  The waiting was killing him.

The chanting stopped.

So did Marco's heart. He knew running ahead of her near the edge of the cliff could have tripped her, could have sent her spiraling to her death. And that would have been bad because she was to play a great part in the prophecy and future growth of the pack.

"
Goddamnit!" Marco shouted but quickly slipped a hand over his mouth when one of the elders glared at him.

"
You," the elder opened his eyes, pointing at Marco with a long, bony finger, "shall be banished from our pack and sent to live with the humans until you can control yourself and grow up."

Marco rose up on his haunches.
"But Elder, aren't you going to—"

"
Silence!  We have already decided what is best. Do not question us, Marco."

Live amongst the dirty humans?

Bowing his head, Marco closed his eyes. Having his freedom rescinded again would have been easier. At least he'd have been in the forest where he could run freely and not be constrained by man's stupid rules. But … live with the humans? He felt a rush of pain so big it didn't fit inside his chest. He glanced up at the Elder's impassive face, wondering if he'd heard the thoughts inside his mind. They couldn't do that, could they?

He didn
't know, but he thought he saw a glimmer of compassion – but no, he must have been mistaken.

Kiba
's voice was cool. "You will be allowed back when you have gained self-control.  I think finding," he sighed, "another female to be with, would calm you down considerably."

"
You want me to find my mate?"

"
Yes.  We feel it will further our goal toward the prophecy."

The prophecy had something to do with the Opeth pack regaining its former greatness.
Much beyond that, the Elders hadn't spoken a word of it though all seemed to know of its importance among all wolves.

"
I see," Marco's said in resignation. "But what about the hunters? Aren't they finding more of us and killing us off?"

"
Not in America." Kiba coughed. "And it wouldn't matter. Wolves must survive the same way other creatures do. The strongest and smartest will survive. The rest will surely die."

Marco smirked.
"That hardly seems fair."

"
We are not fair creatures, Marco. We are merely here to find paradise and reclaim it."

An eyebrow rose and Marco leaned forward. 
"Yes, Elder, but America?"

Kiba shrugged and heaved a sigh.
"Yes. America. I have already made arrangements with the former pack witch to take you under her wing. She owes me."

"
I didn't know we had a witch."

"
We don't!" Kiba's face turned a shade of red. "Your banishment," he cleared his throat, "begins now. Take him away from here." Kiba waved a hand dismissively at Marco.

"
But—" his eyes widened and Marco felt two hands gripping his shoulders.

Struggling against his captors, he kicked out at Kiba.
"I'm not ready for the real world. I'm not ready for the humans. What about the hunters?"  What abou—"

Caught by the power of Kiba
's eye, Marco calmed down instantly. His body went numb then all went black.

* * * *

"Hey, mister, get up.  Did you come home drunk last night?"

Marco felt something poking him in the shoulder.
Opening his eyes, he saw a kid with a large stick and rose up with a growl. The kid backed off, terror on his face. He dropped his stick, turned, and stumbled into a pile of trashcans in his race to get away even before Marco lunged forward and growled again. The boy scrambled to his feet and ran off.

What the fuck had happened?
Where am I? Pain shot through Marco's head and he remembered. Banished from my pack.

They
'd left him in an alleyway. The full moon would come in a few days and he'd change against his will. His senses weren't fully developed and… kicking a rock, he sent it flying into a nearby wall where it shattered into tiny pieces.

They expect me to die!

Crumbling mortar and discolored brick walls surrounded him, stretching up several flights. The back stoop of some ratty old shop. Trash cans the human brat had knocked over were not the only trash around. Garbage was everywhere, the stink so strong, his eyes watered, and his lip curled. Discarded boxes, cans, paper, rotting food, stuff so rotted even his senses could not identify what it used to be. He smelled rats.

His own pack had turned against him.
  Was he truly so destructive he deserved a fate worse than death? It didn't matter. Others were always making decisions for him. The elders were obviously in charge of the pack, but even his sisters had forced him into a routine "for his own good".

"
Jackasses. Who needs them?" He kicked a trashcan.

If the humans caught him, he
'd be killed. He'd been taught that humans could see through his magic because his wasn't strong enough to shield him from their fear.

So far he
'd been lucky. The little boy should have known what he was.

At least he was dressed.

He ran his hands through his thick, matted hair. He picked miscellaneous crap out of it. The wallet in the pocket held a credit card, a single key, a slip of paper with an address on it and twenty bucks.

Gee, thanks.  He spat on the ground.

It seemed to be dusk. Or maybe dawn. In this sickly atmosphere he couldn't tell.  When he wandered out of the alleyway, the stench followed him. A few cars passed, and some people crossed the street to avoid walking near him. To his left was a park.  Large multistory brick buildings stood on both sides of him. Ugly. He longed for the forest so much he could taste it. He inhaled, sniffing through the car exhaust and pollution for the sent of trees and grass and ... he smelled her.

Lightly perfumed floral scents wafting past told him she
'd just passed.  Marco spun around, spotting a petite redhead across the street. One glance told him everything.

He wanted her.  Her.

His groin throbbed at the sight of this woman. Long, flowing red hair swung to her shapely hips. Her chest bounced proudly, as she walked tall even though she'd only come to his shoulders.

He dashed across the street with no thoughts of subtlety.
The scent of lilacs and roses grew stronger the closer he came. Marco caught up with her.

She continued walking, oblivious to him.

His gaze focused on the top of her hips, her delicious, round ass swaying with each step.

"
Excuse me, Miss, I uhh … can you help me?"

She turned around, her mass of hair swinging. Piercing green eyes sparkled brightly, forcing his blood downward.

"What do you want?" She crossed her arms over her ample chest.

Fumbling with his hands, he looked at her and recognized something instantly within her.
He couldn't place his finger on it, but…

BOOK: Wolf Magic: A Fantasy of Werewolves and Witches in the Twilight
8.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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