Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(17)

Chapter Five

As Natalie followed the massive gray wolf around the corner of her house, through her backyard, and into the woods, the wind buffeted her, dragging at the hood of her raincoat. She clung to her suitcase with one hand, her flashlight with the other.

Her hand shook as she struggled to assimilate all that had happened. How was any of this real?

“Do you have a name?” she asked the huge animal, desperate for any pretence of normalcy.

You already guessed it. I’m Wulfe, spelled W-U-L-F-E. All the Ferals, the shape-shifters, have taken the names of our animals. It’s tradition.

“You’re the only wolf.” Twigs snapped under her soles, the leaves torn free of the trees flying and swirling around her. The woods smelled of rain and damp fur this night.

Yes. The others include a tiger, hawk, lion, jaguar, cougar, panther, fox, snake, and falcon. There aren’t many of us anymore. Maybe as many as twenty-six, but that’s it. We’re Therians, a race that used to be all shape-shifters. Five thousand years ago, we were forced to mortgage most of our power to defeat and imprison Satanan and his Daemon horde. When the dust settled, one member each of only a fraction of the animal lines reclaimed the power of their animal and the ability to shift. They banded together and became known as the Feral Warriors, the defenders of the race and the protectors of the Daemon Blade, in which Satanan and his horde are imprisoned.

He described something from a movie or urban fantasy novel. If she hadn’t seen him shift with her own eyes, she’d never believe any of this. Now, she had no reason to doubt him. Still, despite his fantastical tale, she had more pressing worries.

“What’s going to happen when the police find the mess in my house, Wulfe? They’re going to think some of that blood was mine.” Her stomach cramped. “My mother’s going to think she’s lost me, now, too.”

Once we get a little deeper into the woods, I’ll use your phone to call for cleanup. We can ward the house against intrusion so that no one will see the damage until we have a chance to fix it. The bodies and blood will disintegrate on their own in a few days.

How could that be? How could any of this be?

The wind began to die down, the rain changing to a mere drizzle. Ahead, the wolf trotted, favoring one leg.

“You need to see a doctor,” she said. “Or a vet.”

In her head, she heard him chuckle. We have a healer staying with us, now. She’ll be able to help me.

“Are you in pain?”

A little.

“Did those soldiers know you were a werewolf?”

I think so, yes.

She thought about that, felt relief at his words. “So they were after you.”

Yes. They may have been after both of us. I’m sorry.

Natalie frowned. “Why?”

It’s complicated.

“Isn’t everything? Did you . . . did shape-shifters . . . kill my friends?” There. She’d asked it.

His head whipped back, the flash of horror that lit his wolf’s eyes revealing the truth before the No exploded in her head.

They were killed by Daemons and Mage. He made a sound of frustration. I guess there’s no reason not to tell you the rest. The six of you were captured to be sacrifices. You, Xavier, and Christy were the only ones we were able to save.

“I thought you said the Daemons were imprisoned.”

They were. They still are, though the Mage managed to free three of them. We killed those three, but during that battle—a battle you witnessed—you were exposed to an energy that, for about a week, kept us from stealing your memories of the event. The Mage leader, Inir, is evil. Worse, Satanan is now controlling him. We’re trying our damnedest to stop Inir from freeing Satanan and his entire Daemon horde, but we’re struggling.

“I still don’t understand where I come into all this. What do they want with me?”

I’m not sure.

“Wulfe . . .”

That’s the truth, Natalie. All I know is that yesterday morning, when I came to check on you, you’d developed an odd glow.

He’d come to check on her . . . Wulfe. Not the wolflike dog, but Wulfe, the shape-shifter. Good grief. “What do you mean by ‘odd glow’?”

You’ve acquired a bright aura, an unnatural one.

“And you think the attack last night had something to do with that?”

I don’t know what else it could be.

“Xavier?”

Neither Christy nor Xavier is experiencing it, so far.

As Natalie made her way through the dark woods, the rain slowly eased to a drizzle. Exhaustion rolled over her as she tried to take in all that he’d told her, all that had happened. A little of the tension she’d been living with eased out of her shoulders as those lost days began to emerge, ever so slightly, from the fog. She’d been with Wulfe. And Xavier. Presumably safe. But there were still so many things she didn’t understand.

Emotion welled up as the adrenaline of the past hours slowly drained away, burning her eyes. Please let Xavier be at the end of this journey. Please, please, please let me see my little brother again.

A rain-soaked branch snapped dully beneath her shoe, and the scent of the night woods filled her senses as they walked in silence.

Wulfe stopped suddenly, his ears going rigidly alert, his hackles rising. Natalie, turn off your flashlight and give me your cell phone. Fast. With startled eyes, she watched as he exploded in a million sparkling lights, turning back into a man.