Wolf Sirens Night Fall: What Rises Must Fall (Wolf Sirens #3) (28 page)

I counted the
numbers. Paws, Narine, Genna, Tyler, Blair, Sam, Bianca, Shelly,
Dahlia, Aylish and the new one. Robert, Patrick, Christian, Greta
and Agnes from the mysterious mountain pack. “What’s that? Possibly
fifteen or so of them?”

“Could be, I’m
not sure. They may not have all of the mountain pack? I left before
Sam returned,” she admitted wide-eyed. Reid and I exchanged stern
looks.

When we had a
moment alone I asked Angele a few more questions.

“Angele why did
you leave?”

“Narine wanted
me to keep tabs on Sam’s pack.”

I was
apprehensive of her reaction but I had to ask the next question
“Did you tell her what we do here?”

“No, I haven’t
told. I want to help you. She hasn’t been for information yet,” she
insisted.

“Why?” I asked
the obvious.

“I don’t know,
she’s busy I guess.” Her face fell.

She was being
honest, but that didn’t mean I should trust her.

“Lila, please
don’t tell Jack. He won’t trust me, none of them will.”

She was asking
me? The last person in the world she should have been confiding in.
“You’d tell me if you knew anything else?” I asked suspicious.

“I know you
have every reason not to trust me, but I have been nothing but
truthful. I haven’t spoken to Narine since she left me or anyone
else. I think they just got rid of me really.”

“Why should I
believe you?” I knew I couldn’t.

“Because I know
Sky still loves you. He could have anyone, any of the pack, but he
doesn’t.”

I wondered if
she had had her eye on him herself.

“Now I have
Jack so I know how that feels. Narine said she wants to take over
the world, she wants to make everyone like us.”

“And what, you
don’t agree with her?” I swung her a look, like that didn’t
surprise me.

“I know she’ll
try to do it.”

Jackson came in
with Reid and our intense conversation halted as he sat next to
Angele and gave her a squeeze.

We decided
tomorrow night would be the time. I phoned Giny and she came in
with her handbag, the only one of us human. Quietly, she listened
to our plans. Her dark eyes were hard to read. “Giny, will you help
us?” I needed to know how far she would go. She shifted a little
and I noticed she was tense.

She nodded.
“Possibly.”

I expected
another ultimatum and I was even prepared to bargain with her for
her assistance, because god knows we needed all the help we could
get. But she didn’t ask. I felt sad about that; she hadn’t the
spark that was required for a hunter nor the independence of a wolf
inside her and I believed she couldn’t have survived the immortal
change, even if she was persistent enough to get what she wanted.
If she proved herself, part of me believed she deserved it. Once
again I thought maybe she helped us because she hoped to get
infected during the fight. But all I cared about right then was
that she would help us, no matter the motive.

Reid’s Jeep
being destroyed was the end of an era. The vehicles we still had
were the dirt bikes and the road bike all locked in the carport at
Sam’s. We decided that the bikes were a good option – our only one.
Problem was I couldn’t ride one and neither could Angele or Giny -
I still wasn’t sure how far she would go. I wondered what she would
do when we got there. She let Reid teach her how to shoot a gun. I
didn’t know if Angele would betray us.

The only person
I would listen to was Tisane; she was the only one who could make
me abort the mission and even then, because it was Cres, maybe no
one could. There was a waxing moon tonight so the wolves would be
gaining strength. Tisane was a secret. As far as the others were
aware, the car was Caroline’s but I’m sure they did wonder what
else I wasn’t saying about where I had found shelter for the past
weeks. I was worried because we still weren’t sure Cres was kept in
the Cult house until Angele mentioned the basement. I asked Angele
about the lay of the house.

“They keep
prisoners and put us in there when we are bad,” she disclosed.

“You’re sure
that’s where she would be?” Reid worked on the bikes. While he and
Jackson were out of earshot, I probed. “Why didn’t you mention this
before?”

“I don’t know.
I think we weren’t allowed to discuss it. It’s where she put us if
we didn’t comply. Sky was in there,” she confided with a sharp
certainty that made my blood run cold.

“They put Sky
in this basement?”

“No.”

“No?” I
questioned.

“No, yes they
did. But it’s not the basement they lock you in, it’s the cage.”
She explained carefully.

Cage, they
locked him in a cage
. “Angele, do you think Cres could be in
this cage?” I realized then that he must have been unable to get to
me, and now Cres was in there too.

“Yes,” she said
quietly.

“How can we get
her out?”

“The keys are
in the office. It’s on the bottom floor. Paws keeps them in a
locked filing cabinet.” She leant over and tapped the hand drawn
map. Again I went over the lay of the house with her, trusting her
as she explained the rooms.

We were inside
with the TV on, eating the food C.J brought back from the local
takeaway. She had raided her father’s coin jar. I was chewing a
Snickers and flicking through the paper when a breaking news story
came on the television ahead of the nightly news.
“In breaking
news this afternoon, the town of Shade, on the far south coast, has
been hit with the news that a local Cult leader Dieter Pawston of
the Born Again Beings was found dead this morning inside his
compound home.”

All three of us
looked at each other. Silently we turned our full attention to the
screen, frozen, listening. My eyes fixed on the screen.

“
At this
stage, investigation by local police seems to confirm a suicide.
All other members of the Born Again Being cult are accounted for
and it is reported from within the group that he suffered from
depression. The town has also experienced several missing persons
in the last year, including most recently the unaccounted for
missing seven-year-old boy Bronson James and his eighteen your old
sister Cresida James, just days ago. Jane Shelton is at the
scene.”

“
Hello Jane,
what has been happening outside the cult compound in Shade
Valley?”

“
The
community has been rocked in recent days by the disappearance of
two more of its young people. It was speculated they may have been
in this cult, situated here behind me.”

Blair
Whitlock’s face lit the screen and he adopted a serious expression
under his police uniform cap. He appeared to be in a media scrum
with tape recorders and microphones from various networks
uncomfortably pushed into his face.
“Yes we have not located any
missing persons in the compound or otherwise and the search for the
James children continues. Anyone with any information relating to
the case is urged to call crime busters.”
He attempted to leave
as a barrage of questions made him pause.

“
What about
the body?”
a reporter boomed above the rest of the scrum.

“
The body of
Dieter Pawston was found early this morning by people affiliated
with the deceased. At this point it looks to be a suicide and is
completely unrelated to the missing children’s case.”

We turned and
looked at each other, mouths open. I felt my heart beat a little
faster inside my chest and I’m sure my face drained of blood. What
in God’s name was going on out there?

“Holy shit,”
said C.J.

Everything had
been turned on its head. “Paws is dead?” I gaped, unable to believe
it.

I shot a glance
at Angele who looked stunned. Perhaps she didn’t know about it. We
couldn’t believe it; neither of us believed it could have been a
suicide. My words sank in and the meaning of this settled over
us.

“Could Cres
have done it?” asked C.J, amazed as I stared at the screen which
showed footage of an ambulance leaving the gate to the
property.

“Narine’s in
charge now,” I uttered. She would be undisputed. “We’ll need to
take her out,” I said deep in thought. I knew Cres had done it.

Narine had
suggested a change for senior constable Greg Sutton for some time
but it was Blair that had to do it. Blair traced him up the river,
through the state forest to a spot at the base of Cradle Mountain
where he was fishing. He watched him and a companion down beers one
after the other. In the early hours he snuck in and bit Senior
Sutton with just enough venom to do the job slowly and he barely
stirred.

Problem was, it
turned back the clock too far for the old potbellied policeman and
he had to go into hiding and then quit, leaving Blair in charge at
the station. Sutton fled from his wife and daughter – with Narine,
the boy and Sam to Queenbeyan, where they found Aylish’s old unit a
cosy hiding spot. Meanwhile, Blair made himself comfortable as new
unofficial head of police in Shade.

When Narine
heard the news of Paws’ death, she couldn’t stay away. They all
piled back into the car and drove the two and a half hours drive
back down the mountain into the valley, to see her dead lover’s
remains and make Cres pay.

The body
dripped thick blood into the shag carpet of the study.

Narine’s
hysterical voice filled the room, “He’s a public figure, god
dammit. We can’t sweep it under the rug and we know Cresida’s
friend is coming - I haven’t seen Angele yet! Fuck this is so like
him, he didn’t think it through. When he had Sam get the boy, it
was too soon,” she moaned.

Though she had
been the one who had instigated it.

“Hey.” Blair
stroked her back. “Today’s headlines are tomorrow’s bird cage
liners.”

She strode
elegantly across the bottom floor and turned to Blair who followed
her. Evidently she was now doing her best Judy Garland in distress
impersonation. Inwardly, he cringed at her theatrics.

“Blair, tell me
honestly, do we cover it up or let it out? This going to cause a
firestorm in the media, and I don’t know if we need this much
attention. It’s too much at once. I’m relying on your judgment as
an officer, what is best?” Mascara had smudged under her eyes.

“We go public,
paint it as a suicide.” He said calmly, he paused and then added
contemplatively, “We don’t have a lot of time.”
Or a lot of
choices
, he thought.

She sniffed.
“Blair, oh my god he’s dead.” She placed a pale hand over her lips
and looked at him with blood shot eyes.

“It was a
shock,” he assured her and stiffly rubbed her arm.

She shook her
head, and covered her face in her hands to cry.

Sam knocked on
the door softly and pushed it open. “Can I come in?” she whispered,
her glance apprehensively assessing the scene.

Blair looked at
Narine who seemed to nod, so he nodded at Sam too.

“I think we
should call the emergency number at daybreak. My advice is to go
with suicide; it’s less tricky once it’s over. It happens all the
time,” he shrugged. “We’ve got the gun?”

Sam realized it
was a question. “What? Yes.” She seemed to be staring into
nothingness, contemplating the ramifications.

Narine lifted
her tear soaked face. “Blair you must tell everyone what has to be
done. The boy can be hidden.” She glanced at Blair, urging.

“Yes, he can.
I’ll make the cards fall in our favour. There’ll be media attention
I’m sure, it’s not every day a cult leader…er, tops himself, but if
we hold it together they’ll soon disappear,” he replied
sternly.

“Yes,” added
Narine as she wept slow tears. Her features grew angry. “Lila will
be reluctant to raid us with cameras around. We have to beat it out
of the bitch where to find her.”

Narine took a
belt, Paw’s belt, from the bed post.

“I’m relying on
you, Sam, to leach it out of her,” she said forcefully, stopping to
look at the belt leather tenderly as if recalling Paws wearing it.
She touched the buckle gingerly.

Blair, who had
stood back, spoke tentatively. “I’ll go and get the group together
for a briefing,” he offered, politely leaving the room with a
nod.

Narine focused
on her in the reflection and turned to Sam.

“You stick with
me and we will run this pack,” she said sharply as she wiped her
nose, turning back to face the mirror. “I will rule the valley.
This pack is through being run by men. You are powerful Sam, but
you’re not the type to be able to hold a pack together, that’s
evident. Truthfully you have always relied too much on your
hypnotism. Paws has just been a figure head for this past year,
I’ve been the one pulling the strings, orchestrating our takeover.”
She leant down to put her finger in an open jar on the dressing
table and painted her lips, eyes in the mirror. “I’ve been
successful haven’t I?”

Sam nodded, her
features restrained successfully into blind obedience.

“You’ve got a
good place here and who knows, when we are in control you’ll have
your own pack again in the Valley – I don’t doubt it. I have plans
for us all.” She determinedly fixed her hair, admiring her
reflection, and breathed in and out with a sigh. “Now let’s see
this mongrel,” she said more harshly, grasping up the belt buckle
again firmly. “We can’t afford to have this hunter loose any
longer.”

We watched the
news footage again on another channel seated on the cream leather
sofa.

“Does this
change the plan?” C.J asked tentatively from her place on the arm
of the chair as we exchanged looks and stared back at the flat
screen TV. Either it was strategic, or a trick, but the ambulance
and the body on the stretcher were all real. I knew I looked as
shocked as I felt. There would be reporters around.