Cade (11 page)

Cade held the boy to him for a moment, resting his head against the top of the boy’s. With great care, he then lifted him up and placed him back onto the bed, covering him up again. The boy was asleep within minutes.

“We’ll get through this,” Cade repeated softly. “With everything I have, I won’t let you down. I promise”

Chapter Fourteen

It was so heart-breaking. Everything around them was just gone, laid to waste as if it didn’t matter. Where once trees had stood so tall they blocked the view, or hedges so thick and high that they sculpted the landscape, now only masses of burnt trees and foliage greeted them. Gemma stared out of the window, bewildered at how someone or something could bear to cause such destruction. The more she saw, the more the ache in her heart tugged inside and made her want to weep. As far as the eye could see, it was just never ending miles of damage. They had the windows up in the car, even the air conditioning turned off and the vents shut, but the smell still managed to worm its way in—the acrid scent of death and destruction. Seth drove slowly. It was like being in a hearse and escorting the dead—only the dead were what was outside. Stephen sat in the front seat quietly as he stared out of the window, and Gemma knew that inside he was grieving. On one side, fires were still burning, the destruction not quite over yet.

“Stop,” she demanded suddenly. “Stop the car.”

Stephen twisted around in his seat to look at her. It was impossible to hide her tear-filled eyes from him. “Gem?”

“I just want to look,” she whispered sadly. “I want to see what they have done.”

Seth gave Stephen an uneasy look, but waited for his orders. Though it was Malcolm he typically took orders from, and in this case it was to get them straight home, Seth answered to Stephen right now. As beta, Stephen could change plans in his father’s absence. He nodded at Seth, and then glanced back to Gemma. “Just a minute, okay?”

“I don’t need longer than that,” she said quietly. “I just want to look.”

Only slightly older to Stephen’s twenty-four years, Seth would never question or defy his beta’s command. He pulled the car to a complete stop at the side of the lane, no real lay-by or kerb to pull up at.  Gemma got out of the car and went to stand on the opposite side of the lane, staring out into the distance. Stepping to the edge of what was once Neroche Forest, she felt a profound sadness fill her. Small, with not much wildlife, it wasn’t a place that she had ever really chosen to run. A stream had run through it, though, and it had been good on those lazy, hotter summer days, when she’d preferred to lie by the gurgling, crystal waters rather than enjoy the thrill of a hunt. A tear rolled down her face. There was nothing but a stream of darkened sludge now—a water graveyard of nature.

Gemma glanced back down the lane in the direction they had just come from. She pictured Cade as he had stood there watching them leave. If she focused hard enough, maybe she could reach his mind from where she stood. Lord knows her heart was aching enough for him that he should have been able to feel it. He was miles back now, across the bridge and tucked away. It didn’t matter whether it was one mile or ten, though. She would always feel that he was too far away from her. Her
tiger
whimpered inside, urging her to run back to where she felt she belonged.

“He’ll be fine,” Stephen whispered from beside her. “He knows what he is doing.”

“I know,” she said shakily, but it wasn’t the worry that was getting to her. It was the ache inside.

One of the
Humans
spotted Gemma and Stephen where they stood at the edge. His eyes fixed on them, he grinned, revelling in what he knew would be causing
Others
great pain. She curled her lip in disgust at him, hoping the fucker could die from smoke inhalation or something. It would be less than he deserved. The roar of the fire grew as they continued to burn everything down, the flaming demons invisible as they blazed through everything in sight. Gemma couldn’t blame them, though. How can you blame something that had been captured and summoned to do what they believed would get them their freedom? No, it wasn’t their fault. It was the
Humans
and all of their stupidity. It was their damn irrational fear of
Others
that had the boy roaming the streets in the first place—she would bet her life on it.

“I hope the
Humans
burn themselves,” Gemma said to Stephen. “I hope it hurts like hell.”

“Pity them, Gemma, don’t hate them.” His hands came up and rubbed her arms in a comforting motion as he continued to stand behind her. She leaned back into him and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. She relished the contact in this moment, needing his strength and reassurance. He would make a good alpha one day. For all his laughter and all his rebellion against their father, he was a born protector. When Stephen was there, she always felt safe, like nothing in the world could ever hurt her. Not physically, at least. “They don’t deserve any kind of emotion from us. Not one fucking ounce of it.”

She nodded against him. “Do you think Cade will be okay? I don’t mean this. I mean …” She trailed off, not wanting to voice the dreadful thoughts.

“We’ll do our best to make sure of it,” he promised. “We won’t let him down. Are you ready to get back into the car?”

Gemma watched the clever, victorious
Human
with his stick ready to beat the poor, enslaved demon should he refuse to do his bidding. How mighty he was, hiding behind two armed guards with their guns. Hatred twisted inside her for them. She wished she could be like Stephen and pity them, but all she felt was repugnance and loathing. “I’m ready,” she said. “I've seen enough.”

When they reached the house, the driveway was overflowing with cars. It looked like every member of the Society had turned up with each heir. He spotted Trevor’s car—a Mercedes, on which the vain git had changed the emblem to that of his house wolf.  Trevor was Cade’s father and alpha to the
wolves
—and god didn’t everyone know it. He was also second to Malcolm, a fact that did not entirely please the power-hungry
wolf.
Should he ever get the chance, Trevor MacDonald would not miss the opportunity to take the seat that was now held by Malcolm—his supposed friend. Stephen was almost thankful that Cade wasn’t Trevor’s beta. Aaron was the oldest of the MacDonald boys.  Like his father, he too drove a Mercedes and had the emblem changed. He really was his father’s Mini-Me.

In the house, chaos prevailed. People talked in groups and huddled in corners, though silence fell the moment Stephen walked in. He was a head taller than most, his mere presence filling the room as he stood there. He didn’t know if it was that the
Humans
had pissed him off, or even the night he’d just had, but as he stared at them all with quiet contemplation, he found himself eyeing them with contempt. They were all assholes. Plain and simple. Every single one of them. Stephen knew without asking that there would have been a meeting last night—probably into the small hours—all of them, like mindless sheep, bleating at his father, demanding to know what he planned to do. Then, when someone opposed his plans—usually Trevor—they would bleat their agreement like brainless twits, not once coming up with answers or solutions of their own. One day, this would be his job—and god help them. He didn’t have his father’s patience or tolerance for dim-witted members. 

Angela, the pack master to the
foxes
, was standing by the window alone. Malcolm had always had a fondness for her, but as Stephen stared at her now, with eyes suddenly opened and his mind filled with anger, he saw that she was nothing more than anyone else. “Where is my father?” he asked her with no prelude. Angela always knew the exact whereabouts of Malcolm.

“In the kitchen with Trevor,” she replied coolly, her stony, assessing eyes meeting his squarely. Stephen gave a curt nod and left. He found his father standing at the table, unsurprisingly with Trevor as he stood debating over every single disagreement he had with Malcolm’s suggestions.

His father looked old today, Stephen thought—tired. His light brown hair had turned grey over the years, and the lines of worry that marred his face went hand in hand with the responsibilities of being alpha to the
Other
community. Small, round glasses rested on top of his head, where they usually sat if they weren’t perched on his nose. He didn’t look up when Stephen entered, but Stephen knew full well his father knew that he was there. Malcom wasn’t alpha for no good reason. His keen senses and astute intelligence were a force to be reckoned with.

Stephen cleared his throat and waited. No one ever interrupted the alpha when he was in the middle of something.

“We’re heading to see Patterson. You need to get ready,” Malcolm finally said to his son without looking at him. He carried on writing whatever it was he was writing while Trevor stood there, like some kind of prison warden, arms clasped behind his back, ready to criticise Malcolm for anything he believed he was doing wrong.

“We’re meeting?” Stephen asked his father when he eventually stood up straight.

“Yes. We have a meeting booked two hours from now. With Andrew Patterson.” Patterson was the
Human
who was the equal to Malcolm—although not equal as such. To Patterson, he was above Malcolm, but he was the voice for the
Humans
in the area and he was the one that Malcolm would have to discuss everything with in order to come to some form of conclusion. The meeting would happen in the main centre of town, in a meeting house. It was nothing more than a rundown warehouse that no one used except for neutral meeting grounds. There were two entrances at either side—one for the head of the
Human
Council, Andrew Patterson, and one for the head of the Preternatural Council, Malcolm Davies. It was more like a debate section in a high school. There were a few seats, and both sides had to take along their families. It was an insurance thing. Kind of like silent hostages, Stephen thought to himself. It was one of the many rules
Humans
had—they saw it as protection. Stephen would stand beside Malcolm.

“Do we know anything yet? What have the
Humans
said?” Before he could answer, Gemma wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a plate of cold meat from the fridge. Stephen grimaced with disgust and then went back to his father. 

“All we know is that a young boy was murdered and half eaten. There is no denying that it was a crime committed by
Other
. My main priority right now is to get them to stop destroying everything in an attempt to flush the culprit out.”

“How?”

“I’ll ask for time,” Malcolm said. “So that we can find them ourselves and sort this out in our own way. The
Humans
will want some kind of compensation, however. There's nothing that can be done about that.”

“Because burning everything we have to the ground isn’t enough?” Gemma threw at him.

“Because one of ours killed one of theirs, and they need punishing,” replied Malcolm evenly.

“Are you just going to hand them over?” Gemma demanded to know, and Stephen winced at her tone. It was never a good idea to question their father, especially in front of Trevor.

“We will do what is needed,” Trevor said, “to keep the peace so that you can all rest easy.”

“What if it was an accident?”

“Gem,” Stephen said warningly.

“No, not this, Stephen. We just give in all the time. What if this death was an accident?”

“How can half eating someone be an accident?” asked Trevor, his tone mocking. He cocked his head to one side and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you just accidently eat people?”

“I have control … but I might start,” she retorted.

“Enough,” Malcom said, raising his hand. “Patterson will make his demands and we will make ours.”

“He’ll want the …”

“He’ll want the person responsible,” said Stephen, cutting his sister off before she said too much.  “As would we if this was something the
Humans
had done. “

“They wouldn’t give us one of theirs if they did something bad to us. You know that.” She looked from Stephen to Trevor, and then to her father. Stephen understood her frustration, he really did. But this was just the way things worked.  “We don’t always have to give them what they want.”

“This is why we make the decisions and why tabby cats stay at home and watch the litter,” Stephen scoffed.

Gemma took a step forward, her face furious. Stephen shook his head at her.

“One day you will understand,” Malcolm began. “This is how it has to be. It won’t matter what the
Other’s
reason is for doing what they did. What matters is what he did, and the
Humans
will want recompense of some kind.”

“And if we say no? What’s the worst they can do?”

“Bring war,” Stephen said. “Real war—and we don’t want that.”

“There doesn’t have to be a war,” she protested.

“There is always war,” Stephen said. “It doesn’t matter how little or big the enemy,
Humans
love war. It is what they do and what they want.”

“They can't beat us, though. Not really. They think they can because they have more numbers than us, but we’re stronger than they are.”

Malcolm sighed, and Stephen had to share his sentiments in that moments. “You’re talking about things that you don’t understand. It isn’t as simple as that. How many of our own would we lose if we went to war?”