Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(2)
“I know. Mother’s different. Maybe she only wanted one cub.”
Owen closed his eyes. “Maybe.” If she had to love only one, she should have picked Gawain or Bonnie. Edwyn was a liar and a cheat—and even if Owen loved him, he didn’t really like Edwyn much. The sneaky weasel didn’t deserve their mother’s love.
And Owen didn’t deserve her hate…did he? What had he done to make her scream at him and hurt him all the time? “She sure didn’t want me.”
“I think it’s ’cause of your sire,” Gawain said.
“Did he make her mad, so she hates me instead?”
“That’s what Great-Aunt Sandy says.” Face streaked with tears, Bonnie stepped into the clearing and sat down next to Owen. “I’m sorry Mother hit you.”
“Better me than you.” Owen tried to smile even though his swollen cheek pulled painfully. “What did Great-Aunt say?”
“She told the grocer lady how your daddy was one of the males Mother mated with during a Gathering, and later, she wanted to be his mate, but he didn’t like her much. Only she kept bothering him until he made fun of her…and then he mated a really pretty female, and Mother got so mad she moved away to here in Pine Knoll.”
Gawain chewed on a finger. “Being made fun of would make her really mad.”
“Yeah.” And Mother could stay mad a really long time. His stomach dropped lower in his belly. If she hated his father, she’d never like him, either. She’d keep hating him and hitting him.
Owen blinked back more tears. He was only a little cub. He couldn’t hit her back. It wasn’t fair.
But life wasn’t fair, was it? He looked at his purpling swollen hand and felt the burning pain in his shoulders. No, life wasn’t fair.
Bonnie leaned her head on his shoulder. “Great-Aunt Sandy says she’s taking me away from here. From Mother. But I don’t want to leave you and Gawain.”
“Leaving?” Gawain gulped, swiped his sleeve over his eyes. “That-that’s good. It’ll be safer.”
Lose Bonnie? Owen felt his own eyes burn. Cubs were often fostered other places, but only when they were older. Not at eight years old. He turned to tell Bonnie to beg them to let her stay—and saw the red welt on her face from Mother’s hand.
Owen couldn’t keep her safe. Not yet.
“Yeah, you should go.”
Determination straightened his spine. He’d get bigger and older, and when he did, he’d take care of all the cubs and people who couldn’t hit back.
Chapter One
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Only humans would take two beautiful three-story brick manors and turn them into houses of horror.
Toolbox in hand, Darcy MacCormac stood on the front steps and looked across the grounds of…hell…or whatever this place should be called. Her friend Barbara who liked the old language called it a prìosan. A prison.
If run by the government, the place would be termed a detention camp. But their captors, the Scythe, weren’t with the government. Much to the contrary. Their mission was to manipulate the governments of the world. Holding hostages was one of their favorite techniques.
H Hall on the west held human hostages from all over the world. They’d been kidnapped to ensure their influential family members complied with anything the Scythe demanded.
Z Hall, which the guards called the Zoo, held the female shifters from Darcy’s village. They were also hostages, not to keep CEOs and politicians in line, but for their fellow shifters.
Darcy walked down the front steps.
Encircling the entire property, ten feet tall, thick stone walls muffled the noise of Seattle and blocked any view of outside. Her shoulders rounded against the claustrophobic feeling.
It could be worse, though, couldn’t it? When the shifters first arrived, they’d been confined underground in animal cages. The adults, then babies had sickened and died before the Scythe realized the fatal effect of confinement and proximity to metal. Finally, they’d let the surviving children out of the basement, given them outside tasks, and housed them on the third floor of Z Hall. There they’d been imprisoned for over a decade.
Each year, each day, she felt more trapped.
Each year, each day, she grew weaker.
Stop. This was where she was—and no one escaped the Scythe. She pulled in a slow breath. The scent of cut grass hung heavy in the humid air, mingling with the briny breeze off Puget Sound and the overripe smell of late September apples that had fallen into the brambles. The years of captivity had taught her to ignore the stench of gasoline, metal, and other putrid odors from the surrounding city.
A cry of pain came from the right.
Hand to her cheek, twelve-year-old Alice, the youngest shifter, cringed from a uniform-clad guard. Long blonde hair pulled back, the youngster wore the Scythe-assigned garb of white T-shirt and cheap cotton pants.
Palms sweaty, Darcy headed that way, moving quickly without looking as if she hurried. “Can I be of assistance, sir?”
After so many years, maintaining a polite tone was habitual, despite feeling as if she was strangling down her shouts. Interrupting an abusive guard was never safe, but sometimes…sometimes she could redirect their anger from a cubling and toward her instead.
With a relieved look, the girl spoke to Darcy. “Manager said I can’t have supper unless all the grass is cut. The mower was working, but I had to stop it to clear the blades, and now it won’t start. Can you fix it?”