Falling Silver (Rising Bloodlines Book 1) Read online

  Sunrise had come.

  The Spill

  Karina felt the door shake slightly and heard whoever had been on the other side move away. The guesthouse door clicked open and several footfalls padded their way into the brightening world.

  She stood somewhat shakily, cracked open the door and peeked down the hall, seeing her five shirtless and somewhat tattered friends, still slightly hunched and wild-looking, gathering by the kitchen. Nobody spoke, but Simon looked over his shoulder, tried to smile, and approached her carefully as she opened the door wide. “Are you hurt?” he asked quietly, then for the first time in their long friendship, he held onto her until she felt she couldn’t breathe. Karina had wanted Simon to hold her that way since the moment she’d met him.

  But suddenly, Old Jake was crying. His sobs were muffled but came from the depths of his soul, so that Karina moved quickly to soothe him and reassure him that she was unhurt. Activity began then, as Jake was settled enough to take a shower, Greg got breakfast started and the night’s madness was recounted.

  “Save Tyler and me some bacon and fill us in later,” Carl said from the doorway. “We’re going to track Vertigo. We’ll come back after the Hunters have left. They ought to be here at the guest house soon.” Simon wanted to go, too, but Gregory held him back.

  “Need your ears on this, before they come around to investigate. I’ll sneak off when we hear them coming.” Greg motioned Simon and Karina to the kitchen table. Jake was now tucked into the living room sofa and slept fitfully there.

  “Karina,” began Gregory, “give us any detail you have, anything at all. There’s no way Vertigo should have got past that Silverizing.” He turned to Simon, “Unless … that whole thing is a scam?”

  “Doubt it,” responded Simon wearily. “It tingled like silver when I had it done — ”

  “I thought you couldn’t be affected by silver unless you’d morphed!” Karina interjected.

  Gregory stared at both of them. “Don’t you tell her anything?”

  “I tell her enough! Rina, details. Where were you situated exactly, and …” he saw the deep hurt again. “For God’s sake, I am just trying to protect you!”

  “It’s not working.” Karina stated.

  “No,” agreed Gregory, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off Simon. “It isn’t working. And Simon, how the hell did you get so close to the wall?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t know. My hands and arms were — I’m all slippery. Huh.” He stood to examine himself and turned to Karina. “What do you remember?”

  After a moment, Karina answered. “I was on the bed, toward the inner edge where you told me to stay. Not against the wall, anyway. I heard the howling …” she shivered.

  “Yeah, he does that. Likes to plant the terror before you see him.” Greg nodded.

  “Then this dripping wet arm came right through the window, and it started clawing.”

  “Wet? It looked wet to you?” Simon stood up straight, rubbed his hands together and smelled them.

  “Yes, it was dripping.”

  The two men locked eyes. “It couldn’t be that simple,” said Greg, taking a whiff of Simon’s fingers. “Lord almighty.” They both stood up and headed for the bedroom. The sheets were ripped and oddly stained, fabric and foam exploding from deep furrows where the mattress was shredded. Simon bent over and inhaled deeply, then muttered explosively in language Karina had never heard him use.

  “Is it motor oil?” Greg took the sheet from Simon. “I’ll be damned.”

  “He drenched himself in motor oil,” Simon explained to Karina. “He literally slipped right through the Silverizing. My god,” he paused, “he must have been lurking around the place the whole time, listening. The pepper spray must have covered his scent.”

  “Take Karina back to the main house,” ordered Greg.

  “Back to Silverizing and Adam Hunter? They won’t protect her as well as I can! I took care of her perfectly well last night!” Greg silenced him with a combative stare.

  “Where the hell are those Hunters, anyway?” Greg growled toward the door. Wonder what the holdup is. Simon, if you and Rina don’t get back to the house before they get here, and Rina doesn’t say she left willingly, you are going to have more than Adam Hunter, the law, and Vertigo to contend with.” Karina had never seen Greg look so menacing.

  “I’m going to check things out.” Simon stormed through the hallway and out the door.

  “So … Vertigo really rubbed motor oil on himself?” Karina asked Greg.

  “Poured it all over himself, more likely. Maybe even bathed in it. We should find a pile of empty cans outside. Lucky break for Simon — he got it on his paws and arms. Saved him when he reached the wall. Sorry.” The look from Karina worried him.

  They joined Simon outside to find him talking with Tyler and Carl. Their eyes were watering. “Here.” Simon held up one of several large punctured cans.

  “Holy —” began Greg and jerked away, as the scent of pepper spray overwhelmed his nostrils. “Damn!” It was strong enough to catch Karina’s full attention as well.

  “Well, that’s covered his tracks. We’ll never find him. I’m betting he’ll be back tonight, though,” Carl stepped back. “I’ve got to get away from this. Come on, Ty, let’s see if we can’t find something, at least. We’ll be back in the afternoon unless we have anything to report sooner.” The two headed off into the woods.

  “Simon,” Karina whispered as she jogged up to match her friend’s long step, “are you saying you retain some werewolf aspects even when you haven’t morphed? That you should have scented Vertigo?”

  “I heard that,” Greg called out from the front door. “Simon! We three are having a little chat right now! Meet you at the table. I just want to check something out here.”

  Karina and Simon reentered the guest house in silence. Karina couldn’t bring herself to ask anything, but Simon glanced at her occasionally as he set to brewing a large pot of coffee. “Obviously,” he finally said as Gregory stepped inside, “I have not told you everything.”

  “Obviously not,” Greg observed darkly.

  “It was the best way to protect you. If anyone ever asked you about werewolves, you wouldn’t know the answers, or you’d give the mythology, and they wouldn’t connect you to me as an accessory.”

  Greg stated what was already on Karina’s tongue, “You were protecting yourself.”

  “How can you say that!” Simon exploded. “The less Rina knows, the better! Especially with those Hunters around!”

  “Hunters have been around only for the past century or so. We’ve been around for millennia. Sit.”

  An angry silence surrounded the table. Karina was stunned: a whole century of Hunters? What was going on here?

  “I thought you two were a couple!” Greg’s tone had not changed, and Rina looked as if she’d been slapped. “No?”

  “We’ve been friends for about fifteen years or so,” Simon responded defensively, “and there is no need to complicate things ” — he could have bitten off his own tongue — “with details that would involve Rina more than she already is.”

  At that moment, Simon would have traded Greg’s glowering expression and the fathomless pain in Rina’s eyes for a Hunter’s bullet.

  “Go on,” Greg ordered, tapping the table. “Let's hear it. All of it. Now.”

  The Truth,

  Sort Of

  The sounds of coffee being sipped finally chewed on Greg’s last nerve. After a deep breath or two, he finally exhaled, “All right, Karina, fill me in from the start. How did you and Simon meet?”

  Karina’s gaze left her mug to focus like a laser on Simon, then drifted to Greg. “He saved me from some kids who were ganging up on me after school.”

  Greg nodded.

  “He walked me home, because it was winter and almost dark. I remember his eyes … ” Karina trailed off.

  “It was full moon?”

  “Yes.”

  “You saw h
im turning?”

  “No,” Karina tipped her mug back and forth in one hand, and with the other, ran her finger through the wet ring it had left on the table.

  “Aaaannd?”

  “Well, that was all. He brought me home, talked to my parents and then left.”

  Greg gave her a long look. “And when did you see him again?”

  “Not for a few weeks.”

  Greg turned to Simon. “And when did you see Karina again?”

  Simon uncrossed his stretched legs and recrossed them. “I guess in a few weeks.” He flushed slightly, and Karina noted that Greg had inhaled quietly, deeply, in the same way that Simon had as he walked her home to her parents. The men’s eyes met.

  “Later that night.” Simon’s frame hunched over, Karina stared at him and Greg nodded again.

  “So you were marked.” Greg watched Karina as he spoke. “And that’s truth number one.”

  Karina shook her head and slumped in her hard-backed chair. “Marked,” she murmured.

  Simon looked up. “I took in your scent. If we met again, I would always know you, no matter what my form might be.”

  “So you would never hurt me?”

  “I still could. But the marking, the imprinting, helps protect you against that —”

  “Or makes her prey,” boomed Greg.

  “It’s a tool,” breathed Simon dangerously; “Vertigo uses it differently.”

  “A tool — wait, so you are saying you actually have me marked the same way as Vertigo — ”

  “Why do you think I got you out of your house last night?!”

  “So, this ‘marked’ thing,” Karina felt as if she were running full speed toward an open ledge, high above a canyon, “what does it do to your feelings? If it’s just a tool, I mean.” The canyon ledge drew closer.

  “Truth,” declared Greg.

  “Nothing,” responded Simon, very softly, looking into her eyes, and the stone walls shattered all around her heart. There seemed to be wind, cold, unforgiving, rushing past her ears and she could hear and sense nothing. That awful word, “Nothing.”

  An eerie moment stretched on, filled with nothing.

  “Karina, you know how I feel about you,” Simon began.

  “I don’t think she does.”

  Karina’s breathing was shallow, “I’m what, a pet? A toy like Jake? What?”

  “No, come on. Rina. After all this time.”

  But in all this time, Karina finally acknowledged, he had held her only as a sister, had never kissed her the way she’d wanted, and never would. She had hoped, all this time, that he was just waiting for her to be old enough — because he was what age, now? Seven human years to every wolf year, so he looked late thirties, but was bitten seventy years ago, so — oh, it didn’t matter — but in fifteen years, hadn’t she grown into him? Had he not known there was nobody else and that there never would be?

  “How did you not know?” Karina choked. “How could you!”

  Simon turned pleading eyes to Greg, whose stony return glare showed him no mercy.

  “Rina … I was looking out for you.” His heel tapped the floor. “Rina, you know exactly how I feel about you. We’ve had this conversation! When did I ever …”

  “Next truth.” Greg’s voice was like distant thunder.

  “There’s more?” Karina pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her ankles, curled there on the hard chair, staring at Simon.

  “I’m just beginning to understand this one myself,” Greg declared, “and I think Simon knows more than he’s letting on. So, Simon,” Greg leaned back, folding his wrists behind his head, “the Fourth Bloodline.”

  “Nobody knows.”

  “May I remind you that I have several decades on you, most of them spent in the Crescent City?” Simon flinched at that, and Greg went on, trying to lighten things for Karina’s sake. “N’Awlins will teach you to spot a lie whether you can smell it or not.” But the joke fell softly onto the floor.

  “Simon,” Greg continued, “if I am not mistaken — and I know more about this than you think — you are among the few who actually know the truth about the Fourth.” Again, Greg tapped a strong finger on the table. “I hate to ask you, more than you know, for Rina’s sake. But for her sake, I am asking you. When was your last contact?”

  Simon leaned on both arms and gave Greg a level look. “A few years ago. The fourth line is strong. And they have our backs, particularly against the Hunters. More than you think.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” The vestige of lupine wildness tinged both men’s demeanors, and Karina suddenly recognized the permanence of their condition.

  “A few years ago,” Greg insisted. “So are you or are you not still in touch, more or less?”

  “Not … exactly.”

  “You’re hedging. You still keep up with her?”

  Karina felt a kick to her heart. Of course. Of course. Why would Simon not have a lover, and of course she would be like him. “I’m going home,” she declared and stood up.

  “I’ll walk back with you,” Greg’s voice was powerfully compassionate.

  “That’s fine. I’ll be fine going back on my own. Besides, I couldn’t explain why you were with me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous — I’ll walk you back!” exploded Simon.

  Greg rose as well. “I’ll give you two a moment. I’m sorry, Rina.”

  Simon was at her side, and brushed her hand. “I do care about you, Rina. Can you understand that?”

  “Not really,” she responded tonelessly, withdrawing her hand and her heart into the growing light of day, fully seeing the sun.

  My Little Runaway

  Greg had blocked the cabin doorway with his own frame when Karina left, and she could hear the two men arguing almost until she reached the edge of the long drive to her own house. She hesitated, hiking her bag up on her shoulder and digging one foot into the dirt. The cool pine-forest air smelled refreshing after the night’s onslaught of pepper spray, blood, and beast.

  Karina wheeled to follow a light sound behind her.

  “Hello, Miss Redfeather,” Adam Hunter stepped out of the woods and onto the dirt road. “Good to see you are safely home. Of course, you weren’t too far away, were you.” His tone was friendly, and he held out an arm towards her but returned her cold stare. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

  “I can manage.”

  “Where are your friends?”

  “There’s just Simon. He figured I’d be safer away from you and your crowd.” Karina’s heart began to speed up. “Is there any particular reason you feel you have the right to interrogate me on my way home?”

  “Oh,” Adam’s eyes slid across to hers. “An immolated deputy, a decapitated colleague, several terrified residents, and a helluva racket in the woods last night. If there had been more than two of us left, we’d have put an end to it. There are more of us today, though,” his grin was as wildly wolfish as anything she’s seen the previous night.

  “I’m going home. Why don’t you move along and leave my property? I imagine I’ll be safe for, gosh, another month without your help, thank you.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  Karina would have happily clocked him with her bag but didn’t quite have the energy. She shot Adam a look that tolerated no argument, and focused her unrelenting gaze at him.

  “You’ve been crying! Whoa,” Adam stepped back with a glint in his eye as Karina swung the bag from one shoulder to the other, just missing him after all, and took off at a stride.

  “Well, excuse my Texas manners, Ma’am, but I’d be happy to carry that for you while you tell me all about it.” He kept pace with her, goading. “Tough night?”

  “When I get to my door I want you gone. I’m calling the police.”

  “The police. Really? Well, honey,” drawled Adam, “who do you think might be available now?”

  “Whoever picks up the phone.”

  “The fact is — Ma’am — that
we are all you have here at present.” He matched her long steps as the cottage came into view.

  Karina stopped short. “My house.”

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  “My house. Who are all these — what are you doing with my house!” Despite her exhaustion, Karina broke into a fast trot, the bag banging her hip with every step.

  Large cars surrounded the cottage, with Hunters moving about the yard, the porch, even inside. And … was that a federal government vehicle?

  “This is a big deal now, Miss Redfeather. Your house is a crime scene, of course. With all those witnesses, you’ll find that the Feds are finally taking the existence of werewolves seriously. We’re getting all the evidence and help we need.”

  Karina was barely listening. “I want them off my lawn. I want them gone.”

  “Should I tell the Feds you said ‘get off my lawn’? They’d love to hear it from you personally.”

  Karina tried to shake Adam off as he pulled her aside into the trees. “In fifty more feet, they will know you are here.”

  “Good! I want to go home.”

  “If you do, I’ll be making some phone calls and you will be talking to a whole lot of fascinating people who won’t be half as charming as I am. You’ll come with me so we can talk privately. I’ll get you something to eat; then I’ll bring you back here in a few hours. Or if you want,” he was close enough that she could hear his whisper, “I can just take you back to the guest house where all your furry friends are, the ones that nobody knows about — yet.” Bingo. He had her.

  Adam drew her back up towards the main road, sticking to the overgrown bushes paralleling the long drive. They moved quickly, reaching a small, nondescript car hidden just off the highway. Adam wrestled her bag from her and tossed it easily over the back seat as he held the door for her. “Don’t try and run; if you start any trouble, you’ll be the one telling stories all day and night.”