Chapter 22

A step sounded to my right and I glanced over to see that the twenty or so werewolves who had been ready to tear me apart were now in wolf form, watching the fight and waiting for the moment when I would release Mason and give the defeated would-be Alpha to them so they could rip him to shreds. It was werewolf law that any Alpha who challenged another Alpha and lost was destroyed by those he wanted to lead.

But I had lost all respect for the law. I released Mason's neck slowly and growled a warning for him to remain still. He froze, his neck out and paws in the air, a humiliating position for any werewolf, but one that could save his life if he did as I instructed. The werewolves around me stepped forward, gray heads lowered and teeth eager to rip into flesh. I snarled, fierce and angry at the laws, the situation, and the faint shard of humanity that whispered that I wasn't a killer, that I wouldn't stoop to Mason's level.

The wolves backed off immediately, confusion in their eyes but their heads bowed respectfully. I phased back to my human form, then stood slowly and pulled on the tattered remains of my shirt and pants. The blood from my arm dripped to the floor. I hesitated, then pulled on the trench coat, too. It wouldn't do to appear injured to the wolves.

I glared at the animals around me and they dropped their eyes submissively. “No one is to kill Mason. He's mine,” I said in a tone that left no room for argument. Mason stared up at me, his dark brown eyes, so like my father's, were shrewd, calculating, and filled with fear. “Phase,” I growled at him. “And pull on your clothes. We have some people to meet.”

He phased and put his clothes back on. I watched his reflection in the window as he bent down and attempted to slip a silver knife into his sleeve, but four big gray wolves stepped forward growling and showing their teeth. He dropped the knife and backed up quickly until he reached my side.

“Now what?” he asked; the command was gone from his tone and the whiny note that replaced it made me want to bare my teeth and snap at him.

“We're going down to the field. You first.”

He stared at the swarm of Hunters that filled the brown-grassed stadium. “You've got to be kidding,” he protested.

I pushed him forward through the door. “You were the first to make friends with the Hunters, remember? I just took it to the next level.”

He stumbled down the two flights of stairs and I had to practically drag him down the ramp to the field. The werewolves still in wolf form from the third level followed us down, and when we stepped out on the grass, all eyes turned to us. I ignored the shiver that ran down my spine from the pain, the remnants of silver from the bullet that had grazed my arm, and the searching looks of the werewolves who hadn't seen what had happened between Mason and me.

Mason squirmed in my hold and I worried for a brief second that he would break free and call to the werewolves who were still loyal to him. I grabbed his right arm and pulled it tight behind his back, encircling his throat with my left arm as I did so. He let out a strangled protest, but walked submissively to where Chet was being attended to by Meg, Roger, and Nikki.

“Is he alright?” I asked when we drew near.

Nikki looked up at my voice and the relief that swept across her face soothed the last vestige of the urge to kill that tightened my heart the longer I was in contact with Mason.

I shoved Mason to the ground, then turned to the werewolves. Hunters stood around the perimeter of the field with guns pointed in every direction. They looked as uneasy as the werewolves, and I wondered if they all felt as amazed at the sheer numbers of each group as I did. My heart fell at the sight of so many gray wolves, but no Alphas. I glanced back at Chet. He moaned and a werewolf with short blond hair tended to him. My stomach tightened and I realized that with Chet out for a while, I was the last Alpha.

I looked down at the blood dripping from my fingers, then turned and glared at Mason. My expression must have said what I felt because his eyes dropped and he cowered against the ground, his face pale. “One Alpha shouldn’t be in charge of all werewolves,” I said loud enough to carry across the stadium. I turned and looked at the werewolves around us. “Just like our wolf ancestors, we were meant to run in family packs, protecting and caring for our loved ones. Return to your homes.” Several heads lifted as though they would protest, but I continued, “I’ll be holding quarterly meetings with your chosen Alphas until the young black coats grow old enough to take their rightful positions.”

“How do we know who’s fit to lead?” someone shouted.

I gave Mason a smile cold as ice. “The smartest, fastest, and bravest should always lead. That’s the way it is in the wild, and the way it will be here. If someone is fit to lead, they will be prepared to fight for it.” I met as many eyes as I could. “But thanks to Mason’s work we are dangerously low in number. Don’t kill each other. Accept leadership as long as you are being led in the right direction.” I paused and my eyes narrowed, “And if you’re being led wrongly, have the courage to stand up.” Several werewolves nodded and dropped their eyes in embarrassment; I noted Chet's pack among them and fought back a smile.

“Go back to your homes and live in peace with the humans. The war with the Hunters ends now on both sides. If you try to keep it up, I will find out and I will put an end to any trouble.” Murmurs arose and I held up a hand. “I've come to an agreement with the Hunters. They hunt us because we are a threat to their families.” Arguing broke out, but the werewolves fell silent when I continued, “Just as they are a threat to ours. We can continue as we are, fighting and killing each other until the next generation comes back to retaliate, or we can work together to keep our loved ones safe.”

I searched through the audience until I found Commander Rogart among the armed Hunters near the entrance to the field. He gave one short nod. I swept my eyes over the field of werewolves and Hunters and raised my voice so that everyone would have no doubt as to my words. “As far as I know, I am the last Alpha, and in this my word is law. We will work with the Hunters and not against them. We will keep our packs safe and the presence of werewolves as hidden from the world as much as we can. We will work to protect each other and keep our race safe from harm.”

My gaze turned threatening. “We will not harm humans, and any werewolf found guilty of such will be punished accordingly.” I let the threat hang in the air for a moment, then smiled to lighten the mood. “Today begins a new era for werewolves and Hunters alike. It'll take time to work out the trust issues for both species, but in the end we will all be safer for it. Get to know your neighbor, learn to coexist, and we will all be alright.”

My words hung in the air and I could feel the tension of both the werewolves and Hunters at my challenge. It was tenuous and I knew I walked a fine line.

A clear, deep voice rumbled out. “The Hunters accept Jaze Carso's offer of peace,” Commander Rogart said. Hunters and werewolves alike voiced their opinion of his words, but he raised a hand and they quieted. “If acceptable per Mr. Carso, we will hold a monthly meeting with the werewolf Alphas to work out our issues and see where we can help in controlling any situations in need of both of our skills.”

I heard a few werewolves grumble that they had all the skills we would ever need, but I silenced them with a look and nodded at the Commander. “That would work out well. We'll convene at the end of each month in the old warehouse on Thirty and the Loop, and any problems will be discussed then.” Commander Rogart smiled at the irony and nodded.

Exhaustion swept through me and the blood had started to thicken down my arm. I fought back the urge to rub my eyes and took a steeling breath. “Go back to your homes, choose your Alphas, and we'll reconvene in two weeks. It won't be easy, but peace between the Hunters and werewolves will bring far greater security than you have yet experienced. My father was killed by Hunters who conspired with Mason, and so this ends now in his name. Peace with the Hunters begins today, and anyone who doesn't comply will answer to me.”

I turned away to indicate that I was through talking as much because I was too tired to come up with anything else that needed to be said as because I was concerned about Chet and wanted to make sure he was alright. But I turned and looked straight into the eyes of my uncle and knew that my problems weren't over.

Mason stood on his feet, a burning hatred in his eyes and his fists clenched. Mouse stood between us and Meg and Roger had guns pointed at him, but he didn't seem to notice.

“Don't be stupid,” I told him quietly, my eyes never leaving his. “If you attack me now, I'll have to kill you. You've left me no choice.”

A strange smile appeared on Mason's face and his eyes rolled slightly. “You said there was always a choice.” He charged at me, hands out and lips pulled back in a snarl.

I made a split second decision, ducked under his charge, then stood, throwing him into the pack of werewolves who had followed me from the third level. Mason's body disappeared beneath teeth and claws. I turned away, sick to my stomach. I had made a different choice, but it wasn't one I wanted.

Nikki put a hand on my arm. “You did what you had to.”

Her touch soothed the ache in my heart. I tipped Nikki's face to mine, and kissed her soundly. She froze in surprise, then kissed me back with an intensity that stole my breath. I pulled her into a hug and she rested her head against my chest. I looked up to see Meg and Roger standing over Chet. Roger just shrugged and the hint of a resigned smile showed on Meg's face.

Chet groaned and I let go of Nikki and lowered to my knees beside him. “Is he going to be okay?” I asked the female werewolf with short blond hair who had been tending to him. She checked his pulse and the rate of blood flow from wounds in his shoulder and side. “He should be okay if we get the bullets out,” she said. “I work at the hospital and have some friends that are, uh, friendly to werewolves.” She watched me, worried that she had crossed a line. But she definitely wasn't the first to break the law against humans knowing of our presence, and I wouldn't be the one to reinforce it.

I nodded. “Thank you; let’s get him there. I appreciate your help.”

She wadded up a handkerchief and held it against his wounds. I turned to the other werewolves and singled out three at the front. “Give her whatever assistance is needed to get him to the hospital.”

The werewolves stepped forward immediately. They lifted Chet carefully from the ground and carried him off. I watched them leave the field, my head spinning. Werewolves began to talk among themselves and the Hunters apparently decided it was safe to leave the stands. Commander Rogart walked warily across the field, several Hunters, Charlie Sathing included, at his side.

Brock ran over from the stands, his eyes wide and face pale in obvious concern at being caught in the middle of so many werewolves. “That was awesome!” he said when he reached me. He leaned over breathlessly and put his hands on his knees. “I need to stop eating so much pizza.” He took several deep breaths, then stood back up. “I’ve decided to become a Hunter.”

Nikki and I stared at him. “What made you decide that?” I asked, surprised.

He gestured around the stadium. “Have you seen their guns? Where else will I get to blow things up and carry awesome weapons?”

I laughed and searched the crowd near us. “Hey, Meg?” When she turned, I grinned. “I think I’ve found you a new recruit.” At her questioning look, I tipped my head to indicate Brock.

Her brow lowered and she turned away without commenting.

“What?” Brock asked.

Nikki and I laughed again. “Don’t be offended,” I reassured him. “She’s had a rough day. I hear she’s a good trainer.”

“Really?” he asked, excited.

Nikki shook her head. “Not really. She’ll run you ragged.”

He backed up quickly and made an excuse about needing to talk to Mouse before disappearing into the crowd.

“You up for a quiet drive?” Nikki asked with a gentle smile.

I nodded, longing for the silence of the woods. “Can I borrow your motorcycle?” I asked Roger.

He smiled. “Definitely.”

Meg touched my arm, her expression stern. “But not before we take care of this.”

I reluctantly shrugged out of my trench coat and handed it to Roger, who smiled wryly at the tears and folded it over his arm. Nikki's gaze tightened with concern at the gash down my arm and the bullet graze, but both wounds had already begun to heal.

Meg brought out a bag of tools and I avoided looking at them too closely. Nikki grabbed my hand and my fingers closed impulsively at the digging of a cold instrument as Meg removed the shards of silver. She then wrapped both wounds in bandages. “What about that?”

She pointed to the back of my shoulder. When I touched it with my hand, my fingers came away damp and I remembered the bite of Mason's teeth when we had fought in wolf form. I shook my head. “They're just bite marks, no silver to worry about.” Meg gave me a stern gaze that would make an Alpha proud and I finally turned around so she could tend to it. She made me pull off my shirt and I gritted my teeth when the cloth caught against the wound.

I watched the werewolves leave the grounds slowly while Meg patched me up. A few nodded at the waiting Hunters, which I took to be positive, but most just ignored them and left as quickly as possible. Change would take time; I just hoped they could keep the peace until we got all the details worked out.

Meg whispered quietly under her breath about stubborn werewolves, cleaned the torn skin, and bandaged it loosely. “Looks like you'll live,” she said in a tone of approval. She stepped back to admire her work. “You could probably take that off in an hour or so.”

I flexed my muscles and rolled the shoulder. It felt a little stiff, but the pain had already lessened to a dull annoyance. “Thank you. You're going to miss patching me up,” I said teasingly.

She nodded. “Now I'll have to get a real job.”

I gave her a quick hug of thanks and she paused in surprise, and then hugged me back with a tightness that showed how worried she had been.

I glanced over to find Commander Rogart watching us. I held out my hand. “Thank you, sir. I greatly appreciate your help.”

He shook my hand and glanced meaningfully at the werewolves milling around the stadium. “It looks like you had things under control,” he said.

I smiled because we both knew how close I had come to losing them, and how precarious our new situation was. “We have a few things to work out.”

He nodded. “The meeting will be soon enough. It'll give everyone a chance to get used to things, and you deserve a break.”

He nodded respectfully at Nikki. “My dear.” He turned and walked away to a group of werewolves who were talking near the goal post. The werewolves watched him guardedly, but didn't show any signs of aggression. It was a start.

“Nice job,” a familiar voice said behind me. I turned to find Charlie Sathing standing with his gun holstered next to his nightstick.

I smiled. “I’m glad you made it.”

He kicked the dead grass on the field with the toe of his scuffed shoe. “You’ve done a good job here.”

“We still have a lot of work to do.”

“But it's a good start. Well done.” He shook my hand, then turned away, but a group of werewolves by the entrance to the field caught my attention. “Mr. Sathing, wait.”

He turned back and I waved my hand. Chet’s pack cut through the crowd and made their way to my side. I motioned for Max and Darryl to step forward. “Mr. Sathing, I would like you to meet your sons. Max, Darryl, this is your father.”

Their eyes widened and they stared each other up and down. Tears glimmered at the corners of Charlie eyes, but he didn’t move as though afraid he would mess it up. An awkward silence passed between them, then Darryl grabbed Charlie up in a bear hug. I grinned and turned away to give them some privacy.

Nikki took my hand and we walked through the wolves to the ramp. We wandered slowly through the stadium that now looked like a war zone; huge chunks of cement lined the walkway, the walls were cracked, and dust from the explosions still filled the air. The multitude of expensive things Mason's werewolves had gathered now lay under debris and sparking electrical wiring. A few werewolves picked among the rubble, but most ignored it entirely and left the stadium to its own rest. Nikki slipped her arm through mine and I led her down the steps to the waiting motorcycle. I stopped the bike just outside the fence Max had been so thoughtful to bash down for me.

Cool night air blew around us, tangling Nikki's black hair and whipping mine in my eyes. I closed them and took a deep breath. The scent of trees, thick grass, and the promise of rain chased away the last few shreds of dread in my stomach.

“You okay?” Nikki asked.

I nodded. “I am.” I opened my eyes and realized it was the first time that was true since Dad died. I steered the motorcycle across the dark parking lot. The howls of wolves followed us and a smile touched my lips.