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The snow had turned crusty by the time Yuki and I strode into Atwood clan central an hour later. Ransom’s intel suggested the village should have been full of all the werewolves I’d left behind plus a strong contingent of invading neighbors. But the streets were empty, porch lights were extinguished, and the entire area was as silent as the grave.
It reeked of sulfur, however. The rotten-egg aroma nipped at my nostrils from the first moment I stepped out of the limousine and it grew stronger and stronger as I followed pack bonds illuminated by Elle’s freely offered blood.
Both sulfur stench and pack bonds led me in the same direction. The community hall. It rose before us, tall and looming...and loud with raised voices apparently engaged in extended debate.
“...has not yet been decided!” This was a stranger, no one I recognized. But from the timbre of his voice, I suspected he might be Gunner’s counterpart from one of the neighboring territories.
“Isn’t it obvious, Russell? This pack has fallen under the sway of a kitsune. Without further information, the safest course of action is to slay them all.”
The words should have been chilling. But, instead, it was all I could do not to dance and sing right there on the sidewalk. Because I was close enough now to disentangle the ropes of light arrowing away from my midriff, and one in particular let me breathe fully for the first time in what felt like days.
Stroking the wide tether with one cautious finger, I could hardly believe this bond sprang out straight and true from my person. I couldn’t still be connected to a dead werewolf, could I? If not...then this thick rope of light meant Gunner hadn’t perished when I left him behind to be overwhelmed by a stronger wolf.
Whether Gunner’s life continued after today, however, was apparently up to the neighboring alphas. So I was relieved when a third voice spoke up, calm and measured and apparently on my side.
“Easy for you to say when your clan has been at odds with the Atwoods for generations.” So we had at least one supporter on this council. It was good to know...and that fact made it easier for me to walk on past the community hall’s main entrance, nodding at Yuki to separate our paths as I continued following the evidence of my nose.
Because the sulfurous reek was strong around the front of the community hall...but it emanated from above rather than from within. Without the need for words, Yuki padded silently along a fire escape leading up the west face of the building while I mirrored his movements on the opposite side.
The climb was simple, even in human form. Near the top, however, I hesitated, letting Yuki draw ahead of me.
Because he was my ace in the hole and the solution to the dueling compulsions in my belly. So I hung back as my human bait stepped toward Oyo, giving him time to prepare the path so I could turn my former charge over to a fate worse than death.
***
THE WAIT WAS AGONIZING. So I occupied myself peering through a dirty clerestory window into the meeting space below me.
Gunner. He was the first thing I saw, and for long seconds the only thing I had eyes for. My never-to-be mate was bound and gagged atop a raised dais, naked save for the ropes that encircled both body and chair in a complicated arrangement I assumed was meant to contain him even if he attempted to shift.
Gunner’s attention, however, wasn’t on me, or even on the alpha werewolves arguing beside him. Instead, his gaze was trained upon Atwood pack members huddled together in the main section of the hall.
Or, rather, upon the males and children huddling while females stood around them with weapons at the ready. The guards included Elizabeth, Becky, plus several other shifters I’d met in passing. They weren’t protecting their clan mates, however. Instead, the females were preventing rebellion as ably as Gunner’s ropes and gag currently restrained him.
Had the Atwood females gotten so angry with the pack’s misogyny that they’d risen up against their mates, fathers, and brothers? Or was this just another indication that Oyo’s powers were far greater than I’d originally supposed?
“Oyo-chan.”
Yuki’s murmured endearment drew my attention away from the odd disloyalty of the Atwood females...but not before I saw them react to a word they shouldn’t have been able to hear. Elizabeth, in particular, nearly swiped her sword across a neighbor’s belly as she raised one arm as if to soothe an aching forehead. Beside her, Becky—who I’d never seen wield a sword before—winced and sliced apart the top of her boot.
So Oyo was manipulating my pack mates just as I’d suspected. Was manipulating them...and had almost lost her hold in surprise at being discovered by the male she’d once considered more than a pawn.
This was evidence enough for me...but apparently not sufficient to relieve my magically fueled debt to Oyo. Because my feet still refused to move as I fingered the shard of magic Sakurako had provided. Instead, I waited as the other kitsune spoke.
“You came for me,” the female whispered. And from the rustle of movement on the rooftop, I suspected she and Yuki were engaging in a hasty embrace of greeting.
“I will always come for you, Oyo-chan,” he assured her. “But I knew you were clever enough to hold your own.”
“Clever.” Her laugh was a fox’s bark, short and almost painful. “Was it clever to kill that werewolf? Edmund? Edward? Whatever. I thought he was Mai’s enemy, but his death only made matters worse. And now look what’s happening....”
There. That was the admission I’d been waiting for, the confirmation that Oyo had been poaching on my pack bonds, using my debt to manipulate those who cared about me.
And yet...I remained crouched on the snowy fire escape with head bowed, trying to think of another solution. Trying to think of a way out that didn’t involve turning Oyo over to Sakurako to mate herself to death.
Because, yes, the black-furred fox was both a manipulator and a murderer. But she’d also been raised as the pawn of my grandmother, trained to fixate the attention of a harem of human males in an effort to steal their power. In her shoes would I have been any more ethical? Would I have been any less desperate to escape?
But there was no other solution available to me. My hard-earned protection for Kira was ticking away by the second. Meanwhile, beneath us, the neighboring alphas converged upon Gunner, the same enforcer who had beaten my partner now slicing through his gag carelessly enough to leave a line of red running down Gunner’s cheek.
“Explain again why you believe this pack is salvageable.” This was the voice of the Atwood-friendly alpha, but from above I could see how tired even our supposed ally was growing of the debate.
“My mate is a kitsune.” Gunner’s voice was hoarse and scratchy, as if he’d said the same thing half a dozen times previously. “She is not responsible for this problem. If you’ll let her return, she’ll stop the problem in its tracks.”
“Or cover it up.” This was the alpha most obviously against us, and beside him the third pack leader nodded his head in agreement. No, I couldn’t trust these werewolves to come to the appropriate decision and save Gunner.
So, without allowing myself to think about what I was doing, I hopped onto the rooftop, strode fox-silent up behind Oyo, and slapped the frigid shard of magic into Yuki’s waiting hand.