Chapter Five

Kaleb walked me to my car as I rubbed my arms, using the sensation of the hand-knitted sweater to ground me. I had so many questions. As my grandmother used to say, my curiosity was my worst quality. Along with my refusal to throw out cardboard boxes, just in case I needed them later.

My questions burned on my tongue, though Kaleb remained unaware, breathing the night air like he wished he were on four legs instead of two.

"I appreciate the walk to my car," I told him. "But you can leave now."

Kaleb whistled through his teeth, frowning at the trees that surrounded us. "I can't."

I sighed, putting my hands on my hips. "I have questions."

"Of course you do," Kaleb murmured, the epitome of patient.

"You hunt monsters?"

"The Locket pack does." He replied with a shrug. "The Huntsman requires us to guard the Gate."

"And the Huntsman is your boss?" I surmised.

Kaleb barked a laugh. "That's a rather tame word for it. Did your grandmother not speak of the wolves and their curse?"

"I know about wolves." I shifted uncomfortably.

"But not the Huntsman?" He guessed. "He is an incredibly powerful Fae lord. When the wall between worlds is thinnest, the wild hunt rides. We are the wild hunt."

"You hunt?" I cocked my head to the side.

"Whatever the Huntsman tells us to hunt."

"People?" My voice pitched higher.

Kaleb raised a brow. "Mostly things that want to eat people. The Gate did not form naturally. There are few ways to travel between the Aos Sí and the Human Realities, but most require substantial magic or a blessing from the gods. The Gate will let anyone through. It's a rift between worlds in the middle of the Forest of Beasts."

"Can't someone guard the other side?" I frowned.

"They can and do." Kaleb shrugged. "But that Gate moves. It's a rip in reality, and reality doesn't often stay still. It is our job to protect the wall between worlds. We are called when we are needed. A wolf cannot resist the Huntsman's call. It is our curse. He calls, and we must answer."

"But things get through the Gate?"

"They do." He nodded. He gestured to the car door, ready to leave.

I opened the driver's side door and took a seat.

Kaleb slid into the passenger seat and made himself at home, waiting until we were on the road before he spoke again. "Tonight was your first time hearing of the Huntsman."

I shrugged and kept my eyes on the road.

"Your grandmother, Eva, did she not tell you of the curse?" Kaleb continued. "You would think—"

"Yes," I sneered. "One would think that she'd tell me something like that."

"What has she told you?"

My hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I knew about the Gate. Grandmother Eva told me to never go into the forest on your side of the valley. I wasn't allowed outside as a child. She told me there were too many things that would eat a girl like me."

"But you reached magical majority?"

"I did." I nodded. "I enrolled in the local high school once I could control my magic. Before that, it was chaotic. I'm not that powerful, but no one wants to accidentally weave a spell when they tie their shoelaces."

"When did your grandmother pass?" Kaleb asked.

"I was sixteen," I replied. "So over ten years ago. It doesn't feel that long, though." I explained. "After my mom died, she kind of faded . I heard it happens to the older ones."

"How did your mother pass?"

"This is getting personal." I fanned myself, laughing though the sound seemed bitter and empty.

"My Pack was killed by the Huntsman," Kaleb said without emotion. "A long time ago."

"Your boss? The Huntsman?" I shot him a disbelieving look.

"It's a rather long and tedious story," Kaleb murmured. "And as you said, personal ."

"My mom died of iron poisoning," I told him. "The more powerful Fae can withstand a certain amount of iron, but a large amount will kill a Fae Lord just as much as a brownie or sprite." I didn't need to explain; Kaleb knew all of this. He'd been alive as long as my grandmother had.

"How did it happen?" Kaleb put his hand over mine before pulling back as if my skin had burned him.

"She was bleeding so much when she gave birth to me," I whispered. My eyes stung, but I refused to let tears fall. I'd never met my mother, so I couldn't mourn her, but I felt guilt.

My grandmother Eva had loved me. I knew that. But I couldn't stop the longing and sadness that sometimes clouded her eyes when she thought I wasn't looking.

"She got taken to the hospital. She needed a transfusion. Apparently, the iron in the donated blood was enough to..." I coughed to clear my throat. "She was weak, bleeding. The iron in the blood was just the final push."

"And your father?" Kaleb wondered.

I shrugged. "Some guy she met at college. Roanoke College in Virginia Go Maroons ." I pumped my fist with false enthusiasm. "He had family in Tennessee, and the rest was history."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

Kaleb shook his head, unamused by my attempt to break the tension.

The low rumble of a country singer, not loud enough to discern any actual lyrics, wove through the thick tension in the car.

"What does it feel like?" I asked. "To be called by the Huntsman?"

"A pain you would gnaw your own arm off to avoid." Kaleb closed his eyes and tilted his head to rest against the headrest.

I chewed my bottom lip but said nothing as the desire to spill all of my secrets made me feel like a lone sapling against the force of a hurricane.

We drove through town, past Cherry Tree Drive and Palmer Street, until the quaint shops on Main passed us.

In the past few years, Locket had slowly been taken over by franchises and chains. I'd wanted a store on Main, but the rent had been too steep to even consider, so I settled for Palmer, two blocks over. Even in the small town of Locket, the short distance from Main Street made a difference, but the town found ways to fight back.

What had once been a vibrant example of Americana had become a strip of coffee chain stores with a few fast restaurants thrown in. Though the stores were always open, they were rarely full. People would avoid Starbucks and go to Java Joes on Palmer, even if it meant walking two blocks. Anything to support a small local business.

The only survivor on Main was Greco , the Greek restaurant owned by Yanis and his wife, Yara. My stomach rumbled as the blue neon sign depicting a Grecian vase came into view.

Kaleb bit back a smile and found a space; my brows arched in confusion.

"You missed dinner." He shrugged as he parked the car.

I would happily eat gyros and tzatziki for every meal for the rest of my life, so I saw no point arguing with him.

Yanis found us a table quickly and produced two menus with a flourish.

I loved coming to Greco, but it was usually reserved for special occasions. Birthdays. Engagements. Joel's promotions.

"How long have you lived in Locket?" I asked once the server brought our drinks.

Kaleb took a sip of water. "A couple of years. The Huntsman moves me from pack to pack. He can't seem to find a place for me."

I glanced down at the menu. "You were in the Beast King's pack? Back in the Aos Sí."

Kaleb bit back a smile. "How much do you know about wolf hierarchy?"

"Not much," I admitted. "My grandmother didn't like speaking of the Wolfkin."

He nodded with understanding. "We are Wild Fae at our core. We are one with our animal form. Most Wolfkin possess little magic. Not what the Sídhe would classify as especially powerful."

"But wolves do have magic?" I pressed.

"Some." Kaleb's orange eyes darkened. "That scant magic makes our roles in the pack very clear. Alphas. Betas. Deltas. Gammas, Sigmas and Omegas." Kaleb waved his hand to the Greek-themed decor. "A rather fitting place to have this discussion."

I bit back a laugh. The server came and took our order. Demure went out the window when I ordered more food than I could possibly eat. Kaleb beat me by a mile, though. I didn't doubt that he would finish every bite.

"What are you?" I asked once the server had left us alone once again.

"Sigma." Kaleb brushed a lock of silver hair away from his face. "We are rare. Many outcasts. We are immune to an Alpha's command."

"And Alphas don't like that." I guessed with a flat tone.

His lip ticked with a smile. "They don't." He agreed. "Sigmas make excellent advisors. Objective and uninfluenced by pack magic."

"Ah." I nodded in understanding. "And I can see why you'd have to move packs."

Kaleb winced. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Why the hamsters?" He cocked his head to the side. "It's a large shelf, and they are rather disconcerting."

"You find six-inch animatronic hamsters disconcerting?" I couldn't stop my giggle.

"The one dressed in a soccer uniform started singing ‘We are the champions.' " Kaleb continued, pitching his voice higher to sound like one of the toys in my collection. " Olé, Olé, Olé ."

My suppressed giggle became an all-out belly laugh. "That's Soccer Sam."

"And they have names!" He gestured wildly. "Where did you even find something like that?"

I bit back a grin. "I was only allowed to watch television for one hour a week. Usually, when my grandmother had her knitting circle over to keep me busy and out of her hair. One of the shows was called ‘ Cheerful Critters.' I started collecting them when I was a kid. When I got married, all my things were stuffed in the attic. Joel hated the hamsters. So the first thing I did when he left was use his trophy shelves for my hamsters. It's petty, but it makes me happy."

Kaleb nodded in understanding. "You grew up in that house?"

"It belonged to my grandmother," I told him. "She passed about ten years ago."

"You were a teenager?"

"Yeah."

"I can't even remember my parents." Kaleb frowned, reaching for his cup. "Wolf packs in the Aos Sí operate differently. Child rearing is more of a village approach."

"You were born into the Beast-Kings pack. What was it like?" I asked.

"He was ancient when I was born and older still when I joined his inner circle." Kaleb shrugged. "It was so long ago I barely remember. When the war ended, and he was dead, the Huntsman came and took the strongest of us. The fighters. The Alphas and betas. He left the packs without leadership. The women stepped up but couldn't have more children without their mates. Those that had not found their mate often died if they became pregnant. The price of war with a Mallacht Sídhe."

I recognized the word. "Mallacht Sídhe?"

"The Huntsman." Kaleb clarified. "Bargains, oaths, deals and vows. Those are his specialty. Never broker a deal with a Mallacht Sídhe. You'll never walk away without losing something important."

"Is that why he's your boss?" I smiled at the server as they brought our food.

"Something like that," Kaleb murmured.

Neither of us spoke while we ate.

"I don't collect hamsters," Kaleb said out of the blue. The remains of our gyros scattered on our plates. "But I have every movie ticket I've ever bought."

I knitted my fingers together and leaned forward. "You like movies?"

Kaleb grinned. "Who doesn't like movies? Going to the theatre. Buying an obscene amount of popcorn and soda and missing the best scene because you have to pee."

I snorted a laugh. "Favourite film?"

"Oof, that's a tough one." Kaleb rubbed his chin. His skin was clear, without even a shadow of stubble. " Back To The Future ." He declared. "I might be old as sin, but it was the first movie I ever saw. I saw it at the drive-in."

"How old are you?" My nose wrinkled.

Kaleb quirked a brow, eying me as if I was crazy. "Wolfkin don't age. Most Fae don't. You're Sídhe; you can expect to live a long time."

"I know that." I waved a hand dismissively. "I was teasing."

Kaleb studied me for a long moment. I felt he was seeing something deeper than my frazzled ponytail and flaky mascara. "You're worried."

The absurd honesty of the observation startled me into laughter. "Of course I'm worried. I've got dead animals on my car, something tripping the wards on my house at night, and an ex-husband that keeps parking on the end of my driveway."

His expression turned wolfish. "No." Kaleb elongated the word. "You're worried we can't protect you."

I sucked my lips between my teeth. "Yes," I admitted, taking the wooden coin from my pocket and holding it up. Kaleb watched it like a snake about to strike. "My grandmother left this to me."

"She did." Kaleb nodded. "And you used that token to ask for help."

"I might be a Weaver, but I don't think you appreciate the power difference between my grandmother and me." I took a deep, shaky breath, looking at the coin. "Grandmother Eva could rip, tear, and braid reality. She told me the coin would find me whenever I needed to know if I was on the right path. It was lost for years. But she told me it would find me when it was time."

"What exactly is the right path?" Kaleb asked carefully.

I frowned, considering his question. "I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe it's the path that keeps me alive?"

"Or maybe it's the path your grandmother has woven for you." Kaleb folded his hands together on his lap. "Was your grandmother a kind person? Did she have your best interests at heart?"

"What kind of question is that?" I bristled. "She was my grandmother."

He nodded as if I had answered the question.

"She kept me fed. Clothed. She taught me how to knit and sew." Heat rose, painting my cheeks. "It was hard. Just us. She put food on the table and warded the house. She protected me."

Kaleb lifted his hands, palms out, in a disarming gesture. "I stand corrected."

I bristled. "As soon as you found the glamour, your whole pack seemed to forget I was a target. Even if it's a Durrach instead of Joel, I'm still in danger."

Kaleb nodded, agreeing as he pushed his cup to align with his plate—needing a distraction. "You're right." He conceded. "I'll speak to the others. Dean put the order out to continue the patrols, but you should still have a bodyguard."

He touched my hand, and I thought my heart would burst from my chest.

I still had a tan line from my wedding ring, but all I could think about was pinning Kaleb down and riding him—How he would look with his silver hair sprawled on the pillow below me.

I blushed and looked away.

I hoped I could trust him.

I couldn't thank him; I was Sídhe, and it wasn't in my nature. Instead, I reached for my purse. "I'll pay for dinner," I told him, hoping Kaleb heard my gratitude in the statement.

Kaleb shifted into a wolf when we drove up the mountain to my home. Which was a boon in itself because there were several police cruisers parked on the verge leading up to my house.

I wasn't fool enough to think they weren't there for me. Maybe they were there to spy on me, or maybe Joel had planted drugs in my home. Who knew? I just wanted to get into my house and behind the safety of a stoat door before I even entertained a conversation with my ex-husband. Especially when Faith, his new child-bride, made it clear that he was lying about his visits.

No one at the Locket police department seemed to care that Faith Hilltop had just turned sixteen—or that Joel was an officer in his thirties with a wedding ring already on his finger.

The pregnancy felt like a kick in the teeth after everything.

Though I didn't want Joel anymore, I had always wanted a child. Someone to love unconditionally, to nurture and teach.

I took a deep breath, unable to clear the image of my own child from behind my eyelids.

Blood. So much blood.

Maybe that was why I put up with so much from Joel? Because somewhere deep down, I knew his words were true.

I'd been the one to lose our child.

I couldn't keep her safe in my belly. I was defective. A bad mother.

I shook my head, rolling it from side to side on the steering wheel.

Kaleb didn't speak but placed a wolfy paw on my shoulder. I felt the weight of his arm and the length of his claws, and though he'd meant for the action to be comforting, it just reminded me of how dangerous wolves were and why I'd asked them for protection.

I wished I could lie, even just once. To assure Kaleb I was fine when I wasn't. Instead, I exited the car and opened the passenger door to allow the silver wolf to hop out.

I felt a dozen judgmental eyes watching me from the driveway.

Kaleb lifted his nose, sniffing the air.

Then I smelled it, too.

Gun oil. Gun powder. Metal.

More than a standard police issue gun for each officer, the scents on the air suggested an arsenal.

Kaleb nipped my leg, dragging me up the stairs to the front door. My heartbeat hammered in my chest, but I didn't dare look back.

When I'd imagined Joel coming for me, it had always been in the dead of night. Joel was as subtle as a hammer, fueled by self-righteousness and the need to look like the good guy. I hadn't expected a mob of humans. There were laws for a reason, and Fae were firmly in the supernatural closet even if Demons were out and proud.

I didn't even own a gun!

I slammed the door and slid down the wood until I sat on my butt.

Kaleb let out a yip, and I realized he was right. I needed to get away from the door. A screen and a piece of wood wouldn't stop a bullet. I needed to close the curtains. Would my wards even stop a bullet? They refused entry to those that meant me harm, but a bullet doesn't mean anyone harm—it's the person firing it that does.

"What do I do?" I whispered. "I can't call 911. They are 911!"

Kaleb shook out his fur.

"Call the wolves?" I echoed, somehow reading his wolfy body language. "What can they do against guns?"

Kaleb's orange eyes blinked slowly and somewhat sarcastically.

"Me?" I jabbed my thumb against my chest. "What can I do?" the question bounced around my head. My gifts lay in small magics. Party tricks.

My grandmother had many books in the basement, but even if I somehow found a defensive spell amongst the hundreds of leather-bound volumes, getting a spell to work the first time was a crapshoot at best.

"Maybe I can reason with them?" I sounded hysterical even to my own ears.

We should bar the doors and find shelter a voice echoed in my ears, so slight I wasn't sure I heard it.

"Mallory! I know you're in there!" My ex-husband's voice sounded dangerously close to the front door. He was on my porch.

"I told some other members of the HAOB, and they agreed that we need to put the abomination down ."

When all else failed, bravado and insults were my go-to defense.

"You're the abomination, Joel," I shouted back. "You're the pussy that couldn't kill me right the first time. Now you're making up stories."

The wolf whined and put his paw over his face.

I gave him a grimacing smile. Yeah, I knew mouthing back wasn't the best plan, but I needed the other police officers to have doubt about Joel's story. At least enough doubt to leave, even if they came back another day.

"You've been right under our noses." Another voice called out, accompanied by the sound of a gun safety switched off. "We're here to keep the streets pure. We don't want any monsters in Locket."

"Well, that's just stupid." I put my hand over my eyes. Did they really believe I was the only Other in Locket?

I didn't have a chance to ask before a bullet pierced the front door at head height.

I yelped, freezing as the sound escaped. My hands pressed against my lips, and I ducked to the floor and walked with bent knees until I reached my couch. Another bullet ripped through the siding of the house.

"Kaleb!" I whisper-yelled, gesturing for the wolf to take cover with me.

The wolf scaled the couch in one graceful leap, falling into the dust by my side.

"Ha! Dean Hart and his whole spiel about Joel not being dangerous," I whispered, barking a sardonic laugh. "I knew it! I fucking knew he'd do something like this. No man watches their ex-wife for several days unless they're scoping out their new routines."

Kaleb's ear flicked. If you speak too much, you'll give away our location

The wind thoroughly gone from my sails, I exhaled a shaking breath. "You're right," I mouthed the words. I wasn't about to ask how Kaleb could speak without human vocal chords. Magic was strange, and it made sense that Wolfkin needed a way to communicate with others while in their four-legged form.

"Come out, Mallory!" My husband shouted. His voice moved as he walked from the front of the house to the back. "Face your sins with dignity!"

I started to shake. Instead of the dusty back of the couch in front of my eyes, it was Joel's red, angry face as he gripped my throat and held it. A flashback. I reached up and clawed his face, unable to draw breath. Not even to scream.

We'd been in love once.

After I'd lost the baby, he'd blamed me, and we were two strangers in a single house.

I closed my eyes, struggling to corral my tangling thoughts—my brain was a snarling mess of fear accompanied by several inner voices screaming about what I should do.

My grandmother Eva's voice came to me, clear as a bell. Use your magic, you dolt

Kaleb froze as if he heard it too.

I reached into my pocket, feeling the rough edge of the wooden coin.

Weaving had to be subtle, and nothing about my ex-husband shooting up my house was subtle.

Several more bullets broke through the siding, and I grabbed a lock of hair at the back of my head and started to braid, whispering my intentions through shaking lips.

I pressed my bare arm against Kaleb's silver fur and continued to chant.

You can't see me. I'm not here.

You can't see me. I'm not here .

I continued until the braid was finished. The magic was a colored sheen over us rather than the garish sparkles of gold that wolves usually sported.

"They shouldn't be able to see us now." I kept my voice as low as I could. "You can run. There's a dog door around the back. Run and get help."

Kaleb blinked.

My breathing was choppy and full of unshed tears. "I can hide." I was able to say it, so it wasn't a lie. "Get help."

Kaleb bared his teeth, unhappy with the idea, but he put his paws on the couch and pulled himself up. I didn't even wince when his claws pieced the upholstery.

I put my hands together and prayed. To Christian God and the old gods my grandmother called on in times of trouble.

Lugh.

Brigit .

Tuatha Dé Danann hear me.

I needed to get Joel away from the back of the house. I climbed out from my hiding spot, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. Kaleb turned toward the doorway, and I nodded towards the back door.

He didn't move, and I waved my hands, gesturing wildly.

Another bullet sounded, and we both froze as if waiting for blood to sprout from our bodies. When we remained bullet-free, both of us breathed a sigh of relief.

I reached for the clay pot by the door. Grandmother Eva had called it her ‘chamber pot' as a joke more than I could count. We'd once attended a pottery class at Fortune Favours when Melly had gone through a phase and bought a kiln.

I grabbed the pot and flung it across the room, shattering the pot into a hundred ceramic shards. I used the momentary confusion to race to the coffee table and climb under like a turtle with a wooden shell.

The voices grew closer, and I pressed my lips so tightly that the muscles in my face hurt. I held my breath, frightened of making a sound.

The quiet flick of the dog door assured me that Kaleb had managed to escape.

He'd get the wolves.

He'd get help.

A stranger climbed in through the window. I knew his face, barely. One of the masses who attended the First Baptist church on East Street and Olive. His wife always looked exhausted and on the verge of tears. A member of Locket's police department.

Though I was looking right at him, his gaze passed over me, but I didn't dare loosen my breath.

The intruder's gun was big, which explained the bursts of gunfire. Some kind of semi-automatic. I felt the iron in the air, repelling everything that made me Fae. My head swam at the mere presence of the gun. If a bullet hit me—even in a non-fatal place—I'd still die.

I had to be patient.

The intruder walked over to the pot, picking up one of the shards. He spotted something among the debris, a necklace, and slipped it into his pocket. I pressed my fist to my mouth and stifled any protest.

I had no idea if Kaleb carried a phone. If he could communicate telepathically with the other wolves or run the whole way to the Chug on the other side of town.

The intruder started pulling down furniture. The coat rack by the door and the side table. Senseless violence. He pointed the gun, searching for a target, and marched to the kitchen.

Another round of gunfire outside, followed by silence, and then a short and sharp scream punctuated by a gurgle.

"What the—" the intruder cursed from the kitchen. "Joel! What the heck is happening out there?"

"It's a fucking monster, Dave!" My ex-husband called back, fear making his voice high-pitched and whiny. "The damn thing is invisible."

"Just shoot it!" Dave barked.

"Easy for you to say! I can't see the darn thing!" Joel called back.

A single gunshot.

A loud curse.

A scream.

I pressed my hands against my mouth, stifling a sob. Kaleb !

"It bit me!" Joel shrieked. "Something fucking bit me!"

"Where the fuck would she hide?" Dave thumped out of the kitchen and to the front door. He struggled with the lock for a minute before finding my purse abandoned on the floor. He rummaged through the bag, growing angrier when he couldn't find my keys.

"Let me in!" Joel shouted.

A feral snarl ripped through the air, closer than I expected. Kaleb waited on the other side of the door.

Dave pulled his gun and fired. My door dissolved with even more holes, and a canine yelp echoed through the night air.

My hands pressed against my mouth, slick with sweat and tears, as I held in all sound.

Dave threw my purse to the ground and kicked the door. It burst open, and Dave poked his head through, searching for the source of the sound.

There was only one thing for it; I slid out from the coffee table as Dave looked the other way and grabbed one of the books I'd left on the coffee table. I tossed it.

Dave aimed his gun at the book, spooked. "Fuck this." He growled before racing through the open door.

A moment passed before a car peeled out of the driveway, but I didn't dare move until I was sure Joel and whoever he'd brought with him was gone.

Shamefully, I remembered Kaleb's pained cry much later than I would have cared to admit. I rushed to the porch to find Kaleb still in canine form, blood coating his teeth and his leg weeping blood and limp.

"Kaleb!" I cried, tangling my fingers in his silver fur. "What do I do? Did they shoot you?"

Kaleb wheezed. Healer He managed a single word, sent directly to my brain before he passed out.

I wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline or the knowledge that Dean Hart would kill me if he lost one of his oldest wolves, but I grabbed Kaleb's limp body and tucked my arms under his front legs.

He was heavy in wolf form, at least a hundred pounds. My legs shook as I dragged him to my car, dropping him to the floor as gently as I could before I rushed inside for my car keys. When I came back, I managed to get Kaleb in the back seat, though once I pushed him into the car, I had to go around the other side to fully drag him inside.

Every moment behind the wheel, driving to the Chug became an exercise in hyper-focus. I heard every whimper, every wolfy moan as I took a bend. I drove perfectly and kept to the speed limit, not daring to drive through town in case the cops stopped me—or if Joel lay in wait further down the road.

My body was stiff and robotic, and my emotions were replaced by instructions repeating in my mind.

You're worried we can't protect you ?

Turn left. Stop sign. Turn right.

Back to the Future . The first movie I ever saw .

My car bounced on the dirt road leading to the Chug. Kaleb let out a groan of pain.

I can't even remember my parents .

My caution dissolved the minute the neon sign came into view, and I skidded to a stop in front of the bar, kicking up dust. I flew out of the driver's side door, leaving the engine running and the door open as I raced toward Doug, the bouncer.

Until that moment, I hadn't realized I was covered in Kaleb's blood.