Inquisitor (Witch & Wolf Book 1) (10 page)

I threw back my head and howled as I ran.

My name was Shimmer, the Caretaker of the Seasons, and I belonged in the wild places of the world.

~*~

I heard the rustle of leaves and the crunch of breaking twigs long before I acknowledged the gray wolf following me. Slinking through the trees, he kept enough distance to avoid being perceived as a threat without being left behind. Each time I halted, one ear cocked back, he continued to move, not even bothering to hide his presence.

It was a miracle of sorts that the wolf was still alive after the crystal’s influence. I had to give the male credit. If he had tried to hide his presence, I would’ve killed him, even though I wasn’t hungry enough to eat the trespasser. It was still too far to drag him back to my sister.

The itch plaguing me spread to my ears. When I halted to scratch at my traitorous skin, the male whined. As if sentient and determined to elude my efforts, the itching, crawling sensation shifted to my paws. Biting at my pads didn’t ease the discomfort. I echoed his noise.

The gray wolf wormed his way closer to me, stretching out his front paws when he was within biting distance. His tail thumped against the ground hopefully. I chewed at one of my claws, eyes focused on him. My whine turned to a low, soft growl.

He rolled over, exposing his pale belly, tail whipping back and forth with excitement. His scent made a sneeze burst out before I could stop it. There was something odd about the other wolf’s scent, as though there was some sour undertone to his male musk.

It reminded me of human sweat.

I pounced, planting my paws on his shoulder. My growls drew another whine from the male. Before he could react, I seized his exposed throat in my jaws.

His fur tasted like soap.

With my nose pressed so close to him, the dirt, the blood, and the scent of wild things that should’ve accompanied the musky scent of a male
wolf wasn’t there. The little gray wolf wasn’t a proper wolf at all.

I squeezed my fangs down on his throat until he quieted, trembling beneath my hold. Fighting the urge to shake my head and put the thing out of his misery, I released him. Pity drove me into ramming my nose into his belly, shoving him along the ground. I worked my way between him and the ground so I could force him to his paws.

Only then did I howl, calling for the hunt. Silence answered me. I growled a warning, then I howled again.

The gray wolf still trembled, but he lifted his head and joined my song. I fell quiet, ears pinned back. I herded him with nips at his flank, driving him into a lope until he took the initiative to lead the hunt.

First, I would teach the human-tainted pup to hunt. Then I would drive him away so I could find a mate worthy of me.

~*~

A high-pitched whistle assaulted my ears, buzzing its way through my skull. I jerked in the direction of the sound, slowing to a halt. It sounded again, piercing my ears. I breathed deep in my effort to catch the scent of the sound’s source, the tip of my nose twitched with the need to sneeze.

While faint, I could smell blood on my claws. Annoyance at the unknown noise deepened my bark as I called to the young gray wolf.

He burst out of the underbrush, his tail whipping in excitement. A rabbit writhed in his bloody jaws, its squeals not quite as high pitched as the whistling.

I lunged forward, snapping my jaws down on its head to silence the little beast. Its skull collapsed under my fangs.

The whistle sounded again.

The male’s tail wagged even faster. Turning in the direction of the noise, he made a low whining sound before staring back at me. I huffed my agreement.

Perhaps the sound would lead us to more prey. My hunger grew, but I wouldn’t steal the younger wolf’s first kill.

Next time, however, I would teach him his place in my pack, however temporary it was. Then I would drive him away, so he could find a pack who wanted a lowly submissive.

The erratic bursts of whistling led us down the mountain. Something rumbled as we drew closer. At first, I thought the sound was from the young wolf finally learning how to growl. I cocked an ear towards him, and then turned to face the actual source of the sound. It wasn’t the wolf. I froze, snuffling as I tried to catch the scent through the itching burn in my nose.

A sneeze knocked me back a pace. I rubbed my aching, dripping nose against my foreleg. I tried again, breathing deep of the cool air.

My wolf didn’t recognize the scents, but the part of me I wanted to suppress did.

Oil. Smoke. Gasoline.

A car.

Humans.

I bared my fangs in a silent snarl. The whistle sounded again. It was close. Before I could bark a warning to the gray wolf, he dropped his rabbit in his excitement, bounding forward. He then jerked to a halt, twisting around to snatch his prey, and barreled through the trees. He vanished into the morning fog enveloping the forest.

I huffed. Whatever surprise we had for our prey was likely ruined by the foolish pup. I growled. Alerting our prey gave them a chance to escape. It was yet another thing I would have to teach the young pup before I sent him off on his own.

A human shrieked, and at the high-pitched sound, my wolf rejoiced.

The part of me I didn’t want to acknowledge recognized the voice and named its owner
pack
.

I surged forward, tearing through the brush. Thorns tore out clumps of my mangled fur. I ignored the burn of fresh cuts, ripping free from the thickets to a clearing marred by exposed, packed dirt.

The gray wolf stood on his hind paws, shoving the rabbit’s carcass at the partially-opened window of an SUV. Blood dripped down the vehicle’s pale paint. I first stared at the young wolf, then at the cringing female hiding within her metal, wheeled cage. The prey—
pack
, the annoying part of me insisted—had escaped.

The male had, on his own, learned to feed his pack, at least. While I didn’t want to include the human as
my
pack mate, the gray wolf left me with no other choice. I sat on my haunches and draped my paw over my nose.

“Oh god, I don’t want that. Shoo! Go away,” the woman squealed.
Samantha,
my caged self remembered.
Pack.

I lowered my paw to the ground with a snarl. A
human
wasn’t part of
my
pack
.
I was a wolf. I guarded the wild places from the humans.

Pack,
the quiet, caged voice within me insisted.

The gray wolf whined. He was tenacious, I had to admit. It took him a while, but he managed to ram part of the carcass into the window. What didn’t fit draped over the side mirror.

“God, that’s nasty,” the human female—
Samantha,
my annoying counterpart chided me—said. “Go away. Go!”

Wolves couldn’t laugh, but my tongue lolled out, and I huffed my amusement. The gray wolf wagged his tail, staring expectantly at the human woman hiding within the SUV.

Pack.

My nose burned, drawing my attention away from the pup and his attempts to feed our furless, scrawny pack mate. Dragging it across the ground offered little in the way of relief. I growled my frustration, the sound ending in a whine.

The whistle sounded. I pinned my ears back. The whistle hadn’t come from my human pack mate? I tensed, falling back a pace, teeth bared.

Dropping away from the SUV, the gray wolf barked, running in the direction of the noise.

I let him go, focusing my attention on the metal, gas-stinking vehicle and the human within it.

Pack.

I prowled forward. Samantha squeaked, climbing over the seats to get as far away from me as possible. I stood, planting my bloodied paws on the side of the SUV. Snatching the rabbit by its foot, I yanked it down.

Pack,
the annoying part of me once again insisted. Snarling my frustration, I pinned the rabbit beneath my front paws and chewed a hind leg off.

Pack or not, if she wanted her share, she’d have to come and take it from me.

~*~

“Allison?”

I lifted my head from the comfort of my paws. Little more than a few tufts of fur remained of the rabbit. I put my ears back and bared my fangs in a snarl.

My name was Shimmer.

Allison,
that annoying, supposed-to-be caged part of me disagreed.

Something buzzed. My hackles went up, and my snarl turned into a low growl. The bloodied window of the SUV lowered.

“You scratched half of your fur off,” the human chided.

I pinned my ears flat, increasing the volume of my growl.
Samantha,
my inner voice reminded me.
Pack.

Human.

I quieted and turned my head, pretending the
human
female wasn’t there until I had a chance to figure out what to do with a fangless, pale-skinned, furless excuse of a human in
my
pack.

The human was braver than I had originally given her credit for. I caught a glimpse of her leaning out of the window, avoiding the blood staining the vehicle. “Come on, Allison. You have to change back. You promised.”

I voiced my displeasure. Why would I, a wolf, make a promise to a human? I didn’t need anything she could offer me. Maybe she desired to be a wolf? I could understand that. The wild places didn’t have enough wolves. Humans encroached, spreading like some living plague, killing the natural, wild places of the world until nothing but the stench of metal, asphalt, oil, and gasoline remained. I bared my fangs. I didn’t blame her for that desire, despite the fact she was human.

I could change that. I regarded her like prey. Unlike a rabbit, she could fight me. She might even be able to land a blow, if she really tried. The other humans had managed. The sting of burns still marked my shoulder and back. It wouldn’t change the outcome. I could hunt her. She would fall before me.

Pack,
my inner voice warned.

“Allison, stop that.”

I growled louder.

“Victoria Elizabeth Mayfield Hanover, do not make me get out of this car and kick your furry ass.” Samantha pounded her fist against the door. “Do you hear me? I’m not joking. I
will
come out there.”

My ears ached from the effort of flattening them against my skull. Did the human really think she could frighten
me?
The name, however, was worrisome. The part of me that shouldn’t exist reacted to the name. She knew the name. It was an old name, and the inflections the human female added gave it power, demanding respect and obedience. Samantha’s voice took on an accent, an old, lilting British accent that didn’t exist in the world anymore. It had been eradicated decades ago.

It was my name.

I shuddered. It wasn’t a wolf’s name, but I couldn’t deny that it belonged to me. Snarling couldn’t change that fact. I couldn’t deny it. I couldn’t even manage to tear my eyes away from the human’s steady, certain stare.

I had a human name.

“Come on, Allison. We have to go before that other wolf returns.” Samantha leaned out the window, edging closer to me. “It’s cold. I’ve got clean clothes in the back for you. I have to get this off the car before it freezes.” The human wrinkled her nose at the blood splattering the SUV.

My name was
Shimmer
. I was a wolf. I belonged in the wilds.

But I couldn’t deny that my name was also Victoria. I had too many names for any one wolf to have to bear. A few remembered me as Aurora, while others simply called me the Caretaker of the Seasons. I was Allison, too, but Allison was a lie among many lies.

The caged part of me broke free, and the weight of my human memories crashed down on my shoulders.

I didn’t belong anywhere in the world. Not among the wolves, and certainly not among the humans.

A cold wind blew, and I howled my grief.

Samantha watched me with the wary regard of a mouse cornered by a hungry cat. I didn’t blame her.

My wolf was restrained, but I wasn’t confident in my ability to keep her at bay. My wolf didn’t want to be caged again. I was human, but I couldn’t guarantee how long I’d stay that way.

At least I didn’t itch anymore. My eyes ached and burned, and my skin was red, raw, and stinging under my clothes, but I could breathe without sniffling or sneezing. The skin of my right shoulder and back felt tight, as though I suffered from a bad sunburn. I’d gotten lucky. If the witch had been any more powerful, I’d have real burns.

Samantha scrubbing the rabbit blood from her SUV broke the silence.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

“The Inquisition will have your head on a silver platter if they find out you used someone’s true name on them,” I said, making a point of staring out the passenger’s side window. I couldn’t tell if my eyes were still wolf-yellow, and until they returned to their normal shade—or Samantha relented and got back in the SUV—I was better off keeping my gaze away from her.