Black Wolf (42 page)

The phone
rang; Cynthia picked it up. "Heya, Lori. Here, ask 'Sela."

Gisela crossed
the room to take the phone, repeat the story for Lori—she'd felt
the disturbance, she said—and ask her to explain to the other Haven
mages.

"I'll tell
Katherine and Tomas," Lori promised. "Everybody else will be
calling them to ask, only Tomas and Moira and I would be familiar
enough with Kev's signature to identify it that fast from a
distance. Naomi picked up the fringes of it too, so it was strong
enough for at least the witches who know Kev to sense."

"I'll call
Winter. Any other witches who noticed can find out on their
own."

"He's all
right?"

"They both
are."

"Leave it to
Kev... Right. I'll talk to you later."

Gisela hung
up, dialled Coven Winter's number. Liam answered.

"Is Nick
okay?" she asked him.

"He and Sonja
are cuddled together on the couch and I'm not sure which one is
more shaken up. What's going on?"

Typical that
hypersensitive Sonja would also catch it. She repeated her account
yet again.

"Why am I not
surprised at that being the source? Need me for Jess?"

"Wouldn't
hurt, but it can wait until you take care of Sonja and Nick. It'll
be mostly trying to clear out the fatigue poisons faster than his
body can plus some overextended muscles. Other than that, there are
a couple of bites, that's about it."

"I'll be over
in a while, then."

"Right. 'Bye."
She returned the phone to its cradle. "It even hit Naomi and Nick
and Sonja," she told Sundark.

"Typical,"
Bane growled softly. "When phoenix gets angry, he has to let
everyone in Haven know."

"You know it's
going to hurt Kev if you say things like that in his hearing. If I
could, I would've done the same thing, after what they were doing
to Jess." Just the thought was enough to put unhealerlike visions
in her head. What depths of cruelty did it take to try to kill a
wolf by running him until he collapsed?

She got her
feelings back under control firmly. "I'll be up in Kev's room. Liam
will be over sooner or later."

She detoured
to the kitchen to fill a plate with Kevin's ever-present homemade
cookies and a large cup with juice, added a hasty sandwich of
leftover roast beef, delivered it, and roused Kevin enough for him
to start automatically eating.

Kevin wasn't
going to mind if she sat here on his bed across the hall, legs
crossed tailor-fashion. There were prices on being a healer and
helping her friends, and one of them was self-discipline. Less than
two months shy of nineteen, she was no longer an apprentice with
the luxury of letting her feelings show; she was a healer, finished
the basic training every healer had, and near the end of the
somewhat more complex training necessary for a healer who routinely
dealt with all four races, if nowhere near to the height of her
power.

Self-discipline was as important to a healer as it was to a witch
or an elvenmage: to the witch because loss of control made the
elements respond, the mage because loss of control could be
extremely destructive, and to a healer because if her feelings
ruled they would hinder her in what her first priority must always
be.

She closed her
eyes, slowed her breathing, reached to the earth to ask it to give
her energy and accept her chaotic feelings.

A gentle
psychic touch, the equivalent of a knock at the door: Liam letting
her know he was there and asking her to come back. There was no
hurry, she could take her time coming out of the trance.

"Are you all
right?" he asked quietly.

"Mmhmm."

"Don't lie to
the healer, 'Sela."

"Really. Just
a lot of feelings hitting me all at once. Anger at whoever did
this, relief that Jesse's home... but I'm scared of what'll happen
when he wakes up. If he sees this as a betrayal... Liam, I'm the
only one that won't make either one throw up all shields."

"You'll talk
them through it, if you need to."

"Sure, if I
don't mess up. You know as well as I do how hard it is to judge
Jess."

"I know."

Evaline and
Bryan had done as much research as they could on runaways and
homelessness, and shared the results. The most common theme was
that they were fleeing home situations that made even street life a
better option, and that most of them were frighteningly trapped by
the system, and mistrust became a survival trait. That made it
easier to understand Jesse's sometimes erratic behaviour; it was
enough to make Gisela certain that she truly didn't know nearly
enough.

Liam leaned
forward and hugged her. "Trust your instincts, and don't forget
loving them both, and you'll do fine."

"Right. Let's
go see what we can do about the easy part."

38

"Master?"
Sikial said tentatively.

Patrick turned
his head, not otherwise inclined to move—his latest acquisition
gave extremely enjoyable backrubs, and given all the stress in his
life, it was wonderful to be able to relax. "What?"

"I... have a
report." Sikial fidgeted restlessly. It looked worried, Patrick
thought, which was not a good sign at all.

With a sigh,
Patrick said, "Stop for the moment, Jake," and sat up. Jake
immediately shifted out of the way, his attention never moving from
the mage, the presence of the demon unimportant. Convinced
absolutely by his religion that he was damned beyond hope of
salvation because he felt no sexual attraction to females, only to
males, the lean-muscled high-school track star had been open to an
amazing degree to a combination of kindness and firmness with very
little magic. "All right, report."

"The
constructs you sent after the black wolf..." Sikial hesitated.

"Out with
it."

"They've been
destroyed."

Anger surged.
"What do you mean, destroyed?" he demanded.

"Completely
unmade, master. There's nothing left of them anywhere for me to
find." It was even odds whether Sikial or Jake looked more
frightened. "But the trail leads towards Haven."

"Haven,"
Patrick repeated slowly, and spat a curse. "Damn it! There should
have been no possible way for him to reach any kind of useful
help!" Those constructs had been works of art, carefully designed
to run the black wolf to death, then use his life-energy to kill
the annoying human, and finally, when strongest, go after the mage.
"Did you not tell me that the wolf would
not
go to Haven?
Something about a combination of feeling betrayed and guilty?"

"He ran away
from the ones who tried to protect him," Sikial whimpered. "We
don't understand why he went towards Haven, or how he made it so
far."

"And I
personally have driven him right back into the arms of that damned
Lioren. No, don't bother answering that. And the human?"

"Still in the
city, master."

"Total waste
of time and power," Patrick concluded in disgust. "I am not at all
happy with you, Sikial. Your information about that wolf and his
ridiculously loyal friends has so far been extremely inaccurate.
I'm going to have to think of a way to punish you for that,
although nothing comes to mind just now."

"Yes, master,"
Sikial said meekly.

"Now get out
of here. I don't want to see you until I call you. Is that
clear?"

"Yes, master."
Sikial vanished.

"How does that
fucking little wolf
do
it?" Patrick growled. "Right back to
Haven, so that
Lioren
could stop me a third time." He
sighed. "I'm not going to take it out on you, Jake." The boy was
only human, and belonged to him; furious as Patrick was, he could
wait until he had an appropriate target.

Eyes wide and
worried, Jake inched back into reach. "Is there any way I can
help?" he asked tentatively.

"Finishing
that backrub would be a good way." He stretched out again, and
gradually began to relax once more under Jake's hands. He'd been in
this city for some time now; he toyed with the idea of taking Jake
with him when he left. That might actually be best for him, get him
away from the people who made him believe there was something wrong
with him for simply being who he was. He was intelligent,
personable, and athletic, with no innate emotional difficulties
that Patrick had been able to find; his fear of damnation over the
single so-called sin of orientation, and the accompanying sense of
isolation and alienation, was the only vulnerable point Patrick had
been able to find.

Reluctantly,
he had to admit that, fond as he was of Jake at the moment, he'd
get bored in time, and it would hardly be in the boy's best
interests to be abandoned in a strange place. It would be better to
leave him here, but disabuse him of this idea that his parents' God
had any power over him. A suggestion that he take a serious look
into the real history of the religion, definitely. He could use
gentleness, simply show Jake his power and tell him to think for
himself... or would fear leave a stronger impression, a new terror
to combat the old one of hell, proof that his parents' God had no
ability to protect him?

Maybe he
needed to pay a visit to the parents who had inflicted this on Jake
in the first place.

For now, he
kept his attention on that, while deep inside, rage and frustration
simmered quietly. Luck couldn't keep the wolf and his protectors
safe forever. He'd find a way, sooner or later, but it was
obviously going to take a great deal of thought and planning—and
information more accurate than he'd so far been given. Better to go
slow, than to give that Lioren a chance to show off again.

39

Silky
blankets, a soft bed under him, familiar scents...

Haven, his own
room, Jesse realized sleepily. It must have been a wilder party
than usual...

He stirred,
felt the pull of partly-healed wounds on his hips and sides. That
woke him up completely, brought back the memory of running, trying
repeatedly and vainly to fight off his tormentors, long past the
point of instinct taking over from reason.

Those same
instincts had taken him back to Haven.

More hazy was
a memory of seeing the two wolves that had been chasing him with
impossible endurance melt and vanish, of Kevin with power swirling
around him in a blindingly bright aura, of Gisela crouched beside
him with her hand tangled tightly in his fur.

No wonder he
felt so awful.

Carefully, he
untangled himself, and got shakily to his feet. He was glad the
bathroom was close and there were no stairs to navigate; he barely
made it that far before he had to stop and lean against the
wall.

Shit. There's
no way I'm going to make it back to the city. I'm stuck here. Damn
it.

He turned on
the shower, and stepped under the hot water. By letting the wall
take much of his weight, he stayed on his feet until he'd gotten
rid of all the sweat and mud from his nightmarish run.

I am really
getting sick of having to be rescued. I'd give a lot for something
I can actually fight back against for a change.

Clean, he
paused to evaluate his condition. One of the healers had been at
the bites; other than them and feeling like... well, he'd been
roaming some distance north of the city to hunt, but still quite a
long way from Haven... he was in reasonable condition.

Christ. If
anyone ever wondered just how tough a werewolf really is, I think I
just proved it. Of course, I don't think I was going to make it any
farther than I did... And damn it all, I bet I wouldn't've stayed
on my feet that long if I didn't know there was someone at the
other end of the road that would help.

All I want is
to stay with Shaine, and not have to feel anything anymore...
Shaine's going to freak...

They can't
have been really wolves. They didn't get tired at all.

Reluctantly,
he went back to his room—why wasn't he surprised that no one had
touched anything? Waiting for him to come back.

Leave me
alone, stop messing with my head, stop making me feel!

He found a
pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and got dressed—pausing more than once
when weakness made the room spin wildly.

Someone
knocked softly on the open door; he identified Gisela's scent even
before he turned around.

She set a
plate of food and a glass of juice on the chest. "Thought you might
be hungry. Feeling pretty rough?"

"You could say
that."

"Well, you did
the highly improbable again, by getting here still alive. Evaline
says she's never heard of such a thing. You must have the purest
demon-luck ever. Liam thinks you have nine lives like a cat."

"Then I'm
probably running out fast."

"Sit down and
eat. I won't let anybody bother you."

"But I can't
get rid of you."