Chapter Eleven

Family and Clan

Cry of the Hunt

As the wolf ate the meal, Hope thought about what she had just witnessed. He'd stood completely still, and then had seemed to flicker like a million tiny lights flowed over his wolf body. And for just an instant, she thought she saw a man. A tall, muscular man. A naked man. Then the lights melted away. Maybe she'd blinked. No man remained, just the wolf again.

Was this for real? Well. If she had finally flipped her lid, at least she had a creative imagination.

He'd finished his meal and now stared off at the woods with an intensity that worried her. He was probably daydreaming of chasing deer and howling at the moon. So maybe she had better keep him talking. It just might help him stay civilized. Maybe she could even get some more answers about her own situation.

"When you told me your name, you mentioned children," she said. "Does that mean you're married? Do werewolves get married?"

"Yes, we get married. And no, I am not married."His wolf body relaxed, but his mental thoughts seemed as alert as ever. His words and thoughts carried such deep context and feeling. The word married felt sad as it entered her mind. Was that because of his empathy?

"Did you say you have children?" And if so, did that mean he had been married, but was no longer? That might explain the sadness.

"I raised the young of the clan as my own children. Their parents were murdered."He said the word children with pride and wonder, making Hope think of every loving parent she had ever met. And he had said they were not really his children.

"Could you tell me about them? Are they like you? How did you wind up raising them?"

"My two brothers and I were the only adults left alive in our village. We found the children, who had escaped and hidden to save themselves. There were eleven of them, from newborn to fifteen years. I cared for them and taught them all I could. We performed the tagradh ceremony."

"What is the tagradh... ceremony?"

"It allows a parent to replace one who was lost, to become mathair or athair, mother or father. One of us had to adopt the children and hold the needed connection to their magic. Without it, the children would have suffered horribly and eventually died from their immature magic. In the weeks it took to find the pages that held the steps of the ceremony, we nearly lost the two youngest, a set of twin newborns."

"So, you adopted eleven children to become their athair. Their father. Is that why you go by Athair?" He sounded like any other protective parent she knew.

"They named me Athair out of respect. Even my brothers call me Athair now."

Athair was more a title than a name. She wondered what he had been like before accepting the responsibility of parenthood. "What's your real name?"

"Ailleag,"he said after a pause. "Athair is all I have been for many long years. I do not feel like Ailleag any longer. I might have adopted them out of necessity, but the young are my everything." There was such longing in his mind, a sadness about being parted from his children.

"Is there any way to contact your family? Would they be worried about you? Would they know you were poisoned? Could they help you heal?" Strangely, she hoped he would say no. That he would stay with her at least a little longer.

"I had two of the children with me when I went to the Bear Clan. I don't know if they escaped or not."

"Do you mean the people who poisoned and nearly tore you apart may have your children? And be doing God knows what to them?" She shot to her feet in agitation. No wonder he glared at the woods, growling. He must want to go rescue his children. "We need to go after them. We need to get them to safety."

Athair watched the fire flash in her eyes in the defense of his children, whom she had never met. Ones that were in fact, hundreds of years old and nearly as powerful as he was. Still her defense of them was extraordinary. "I am worried for them, but you should know they are adults now. They should have had time to get well away once they knew I had escaped the pack. I imagine they may be searching for me, with plans for my rescue."

"Ah, how old are they? I was picturing teenagers."

"I am not sure you want me to answer that." Rath had just turned four hundred and nineteen, and Dàn was one year younger.

"Why's that? Will it make me think you're old, or what?" She smiled at him, not knowing how old her innocence already made him feel. Humans always amazed him. They lived so fully in only the few decades they were given.

"Both of them are over four hundred years old."But the Valàfrn matured differently than humans. Even if they looked like adults by age twenty, they usually did not consider starting a family and taking on responsibility until they reached the age of two hundred.

"Oh, my." She stared at him and frowned thoughtfully. "That must mean you're a bit older than that."

"Yes. A bit."

"You were totally right. I didn't want to know that. And I don't think I want to know how much older you are. At least not yet. Especially, if you still call them children."

"That is probably wise. Though in truth, I will probably always see them as children, regardless of their ages."She was really quite remarkable. Not once had she avoided the unlikely reality of his existence. Never mind the fact that she still held the knife mostly hidden at her side. That was good sense for a woman alone. She was filled with curiosity and compassion and completely lacked prejudice. If she was typical of people in this age, his clan may finally have a chance at acceptance. He found the possibility refreshing.

Perhaps her name was as appropriate as his. She, with her soft doe eyes, could be the one to bring hope to his clan. Was that what Dàn had meant while with the Bear clan?

Athair was worried about what happened to the boys after he was chased from Lakeside. He knew they were strong and sensible, but many things could have kept them from making their escape. He also knew that Dàn would not have told him if the young seer himself was going to come to harm. There was a quiet sadness about him, and at times Athair even suspected Dàn might consider seeking the solace of death.

"Would you tell me about yourself?" What in her life had given her such strength and courage? For just this once, he wanted to lean on someone, on this woman to bolster his own failing strength.

"I would rather not. I don't like to talk about myself."

"Please," he asked in quiet entreaty. He didn't want to scare her with too much truth about his way of life, but he needed the conversation to help hold onto his sense of self. The forest was unrelenting in its summons. The scents and sounds drew him almost beyond control.

With a shake of his head, he focused on Hope. She smelled like vanilla and spice. She had moved to sit on the top step only a few feet away from him. She leaned back against the railing with her eyes closed, obviously deep in thought. The light from the moon added a soft glow to her perfect skin. His breath stopped. Her spicy scent and her tender throat awoke a dark hunger in him for the taste of her flesh and blood.

This had to stop. He had never hurt a person and didn't want to start now.

"Please, I need the distraction."

As the strained voice rolled through her mind, Hope looked at Athair and saw the predator within him. She saw the struggle as he fought to maintain control. She needed to help him if she could. "I'll try." She caught his gaze and held it for a moment. This was an opportunity to find out about the one who'd attacked her. "I want to tell you about what happened to me almost a month ago. Maybe you can help me sort out what I saw." She hesitated.

"What happened?"

"I was attacked by one of your kind." She went on to explain what she recalled about the attack and the newscast about the girl's body. "Tell me again that it wasn't you." She studied his every reaction.

"It was not I."

"You don't think I imagined it, do you?"

"No, probably not."He met her gaze with an open, honest expression that made her want to believe him.

"Are many of your kind killers? Is that normal or maybe they were outlaws?" Was he the only nice werewolf, or was the one who'd attacked her the outlier? She hoped most of them were like Athair, because he would be more trustworthy if he was part of an honorable group.

"I really don't know. My clan has not stayed in contact with others for several centuries. Valàfrn were not like that in the past, but times do change. I hope they have not changed that much."

"So, they were outlaws, then? What about the ones in your family?"

"Just like your kind, we have individual personalities. Some are easily corrupted by the power we control. My clan is bound by honor. None would do such crimes."

"Do you have police to stop them?"

"Once we had the Shadomàn, who watched for clan members who could bring harm to all."

"Do they still exist?" Shadomàn sounded strange and mysterious, fitting for the ones who would be werewolves hunting werewolves.

"Not that I know of, but the Shadomàn were outside the clan so as to remain objective."

"Objective? Oh, in case they had to go after someone they knew."

"Yes. They might be called to kill someone they knew and loved, perhaps a friend or relative."

They might have to kill someone they loved? How horrible. But who else would be strong enough to fight magic except those who held the same powers? For the sake of the Warren police, Hope sincerely wished for a few Shadomàn to be hunting the ones who'd attacked her and killed the other woman.

"Tell me about your family."Athair interrupted her musing. Family is important.

"I live with my grandmother, Ella. I have been with her since my parents died." Hope remembered the day Granny had picked her up from the hospital and brought her and her wheelchair home. She'd felt so old and used up. Her days filled with quiet dread, and her nights with dark nightmares. Granny had let her be for a while, and then forced her to meet visitors who came by, most of whom she didn't remember. But a few had been different and nearly pulled her back awake.

"How did your parents die?"Athair tugged her back from her dark thoughts.

"In a car accident. The same one in which I was injured. My two younger brothers died, too." It was possible now to say the words, but they still hurt so much.

"I am very sorry. That must have been hard for you."His soothing empathy eased around her like a gentle hug.

The caress from his mind to hers offered something no other person ever had. It offered guilt-free sympathy that she was forced to accept. Knowing that he wasn't judging her in any way released those horrible memories, allowing her to talk about that time without choking on the pain. "I was sixteen. It was a long time ago, right after I passed my driver's exam."

"You must pass an exam to drive a wagon? So many things are different."

She stared at him in astonishment. "I suppose you don't know how to drive a car?"

"My clan has stayed to ourselves since shortly after we moved to this continent. I saw many strange new things while in the Bear Clan, and even more here in your home. Only my younger brother, Sgrios, has gone out and brought back stories about your world."

"Why were you so isolated?" She could not imagine a group of people living apart from the world for so many centuries.

"My brothers and I felt it was too dangerous to live among your kind. I believe now that we made a terrible mistake. One for which our children will be forced to pay. They have lost so much. I wish I could give it all back to them, but perhaps they will have that chance now."

His thoughts humbled Hope. She could see that their discussion of his family had helped keep him distracted from his wild nature. And it was certainly easier for her to talk about than the loss of her own family.

"I think I would like your family." The words slipped out and surprised her. Meeting Athair had changed her whole outlook when it came to werewolves.

"Perhaps you will meet them someday. They certainly will like you."

"Are your brothers like you?"

"Do you mean my magic?"

"No, I mean you as a person." Or whatever Athair was. Regardless of the fact that he looked like a wild animal, he felt like a person. It was a strange thought. Even more oddly, she wanted to know him better.

"As I mentioned, I have two brothers. They are very different. His far off expression focused on his past this time rather than the distant forest. Acair is my twin, older by an hour. He is strong and reliable. He has always given us direction and a plan. Even when we had little hope, it was Acair's fierce determination that kept us together through the darkest of times."

"He sounds like a good man." Hope thought that Athair and his twin must be very much alike.

"He is. The responsibility he carries is hard for him at times. It was his final decision that we should seclude ourselves from the world. At the time, we felt it was our only option."

"What is your other brother like?"

"Sgrios."

She watched several strong emotions pass over him, but she didn't understand them. They flashed by very much like pain. He didn't continue for a moment, just closed his eyes and lay completely still. Athair looked very dog-like with his head resting on his front legs.

"I think I have begun to understand him better since the poison. If I do not overcome the urge to turn feral, he will surely join me. I find it comforting to know I will still have family even if I lose myself."

"Was he poisoned, too?

Suddenly, Athair raised his head and met her gaze, and she felt comprehension dawn over him. "Yes, I suppose, it was a kind of poison, but not how you meant. Sgrios believes he caused the death of many of our clan. It is his guilt that poisons him. He avoids the guilt and painful memories by running with a small pack of wild wolves, and only rarely returning to human form."

"I see."

He was looking off to the woods again. This time the sense of longing was muted and all she felt from him was regret.

Maybe she shouldn't have made him talk about his little brother. The topic seemed too painful for a conversation meant to set him at ease. But what new topic could she bring up that would be easier? "Do your brothers' names have meanings like yours?"

"Yes, Acair has been an anchor for our people. The seer of our village named him at the time of our birth. Our parents were alphas of the clan back then, and I think they believed Acair would follow them and eventually take leadership."

She smiled a little at the pride rushing through Athair's voice. The obvious love he had for his family felt strong and pure.

"As for Sgrios, he was once called Donnchadh, but now he chooses to go by Sgrios, when he answers to anything. The word is Gaelic for destruction. He's been like a different man since that day."

Once more she steered the topic away from that brother. "What about the two boys traveling with you?"

"Rath and Dàn. They are both good men."

"What are their names in Gaelic?" She felt like she could learn an important element about each individual simply by hearing more about their names.

"Our oracles often gave a name and prophecy for newborns, so often the name an individual goes by is related to some deeper meaning. Rath means luck and good fortune. I have always found it ironic that his personality is intensely serious and his nature, quiet and serious."

"What about Dàn?"

"Dàn is Gaelic for fate."

What a strange name for a child. She couldn't help imagining a bunch of old ladies holding up a newborn dramatically and giggling. "How did he get saddled with that name?"

"Even without training, Dàn is a powerful seer and probably much more."

A fortune teller? Seriously? She pictured one of the side show guys in the traveling carnival. "By seer, you mean he can see the future? That could be really useful for playing the lotto."

"What is the lotto?"

"Granny's favorite pastime. Lotto is gambling on a list of numbers. What kinds of things can Dàn do?" A thought hit her, and she stared at him in surprise. "Why didn't he tell you to just not drink the poison?"

Athair's eyes flashed in amusement. "Dàn can be somewhat scary even to our kind, sometimes even to me. I know he sees much more than what he chooses to share. He did warn me that they would turn on me. He also said that we should follow that path. If he said to take the risk, then I knew there would be a good reason to do so."

"That is kind of scary." She was stunned by the thought of someone with so much power. Someone who could actually see the future and control what happened to his family. "I guess you must trust him a lot to know you would be attacked and not try to prevent it on his word."

"I do trust Dàn. He is a good man. But at the same time, to truly know him is impossible. His strange powers keep him apart from everyone. I often wonder what brought him to our family."

"What do you mean? Isn't he a werewolf like you?" The way Athair spoke of Dàn made him seem mysterious. Even more than just being a werewolf.

"His mother was a foundling. I was a boy when she first came to the clan as a child. Later, she left the clan so she could see more of the world. I don't know what she saw or did, but when she was brought back to us, she was very ill and pregnant with Dàn. She was never well enough to tell us who his father is or was and she died when Dàn was born. Dàn is one of the children I have not formally adopted, because he had enough control of his magic, even at fourteen, that he had no need of mine. I hope you get the chance to meet both him and Rath."

Hope thought about that for a moment. She would like to meet the people who were important to Athair. And that idea made her pause. She didn't really know him. She only knew that she enjoyed talking with him. A lot. She couldn't think about that yet.

The night had deepened some time ago. The moon had risen higher, and now softened the darkness. There was a continuous symphony of night sounds, including the peeping and chirping of insects, the occasional rasp of a bullfrog or the hoot of an owl. And their quiet talk.

Specifically, her talk.

That was a bit of weirdness she hoped she wouldn't have to explain to Granny any time soon. Hey Granny, I'm not talking to myself. I'm talking to a real live werewolf! Yeah, right. That would certainly have her back at the therapist in a hurry. And probably give her the chance to try some new medication.

What was she going to tell Steve when he asked about the wolf? He would be by in the morning to pick her up for work and would probably want to check on the wolf then just to be sure he was no threat to her. She needed to come to a decision.

"Do you have a plan? I mean, after you are well enough." She wondered why she wanted him to offer to stay. Why did the idea of his leaving suddenly seem like a terrible thing?

"I need to see my clan to let them know what happened to me. But I cannot risk traveling until I can be sure I have control over my magic."

Obviously. "How much control must you have, and how can I help you get better? Not that I am trying to get rid of you but—"

"You need to have a plan. I understand and feel the same way."

A long, fierce howl sounded from far away. It was answered by two other voices. They were the first sounds of the night that caused any unease in Hope. The howls continued, some louder, some farther away. All of them raised the sensitive hairs on the back of Hope's neck.

Athair stood up and listened tensely to the distant calls. The hair of his back bristled, and he growled a nearly inaudible challenge back into the evening air.

"Friends of yours?" she asked, attempting to joke away her nervousness as she became aware of the dangerous menace that was part of him. She slipped to the safety of the kitchen doorway, still clutching the knife. "I guess not. Want to tell me what's going on?"

"They are hunting for me."

She retreated to the other side of the door. At that moment, she figured he could manage just fine without her support. Then she remembered him saying he couldn't travel yet. "I don't suppose you are strong enough to run away, are you? I really don't want any guests that are capable of doing the kind of damage they did to you. I already have nightmares from my first encounter with your kind."