Banewolf (Dark Siren Book 2) Read online

  Frowning, York turned his head. He almost didn’t want to validate such a stupid question by answering. “I wouldn’t do that,” he finally said.

  Rhane had noticed the heat in York’s reply but ignored it. “Sometimes I think it’d be easier if you did. At least then they’ll stop thinking I’m a hero. And she believes I’m some sort of martyr.”

  York sighed. At times he forgot he was the only one who knew about the commander and legion of soldiers Rhane had killed to protect Kali. Their kid had died in the same fight. Rhane deserved credit for making that admission to Kali, but she was still missing some of the context. And in this instance, context was everything. But her knowing wasn’t the same as War, Orrin, and Rion understanding the truth. Tough thing to find out the guy who raised you was actually the one who made you an orphan in the first place. Well technically, Rhane only finished the job of making them orphans by killing their sires for standing against him. Not a huge saving point, considering his beloved siren was accused of killing their dams. Looking at things that way, Rhane and Kalista were a pretty well-matched couple.

  “You’re gonna have to tell them someday. I think they’ll understand.”

  “Yeah,” Rhane muttered.

  Kalista strolled over with a purple messenger bag thrown across her shoulder. “Hi!” She’d called to both of them, but anyone could see her eyes were only for one guy.

  The grin that filled Rhane’s face turned him into a different person. “Hi.” He smiled down at her like she was the prettiest thing on the planet. York couldn’t blame him for it. The skinny jeans Kali wore made her butt look amazing.

  #

  Rhane parked in front of Ridge Creek High School, feeling a little weird about using the parent drop-off. Kalista kissed him goodbye and hopped out. Then she turned around uncertainly. He waited. She rarely needed encouragement to say what was on her mind.

  “There’s something I need you to do for me. I’m sorry I haven’t done it sooner. It’s probably going to be a little awkward for you, considering how you feel about things. Well, I guess it will be. I really don’t know how you feel because you never really talk to me.”

  “Kalista,” Rhane gently interrupted. “What is it?”

  She lifted a very large book out of her messenger bag. “Could you return this to the library for me? I sorta got Max and Orrin to make a scene sneaking it out, so it would probably be better if someone else took it back.” She bit her lip. The gesture made Rhane want to give her a real kiss goodbye.

  He held his hand out to receive the large volume. For a moment, he simply stared at the cover. It was a record of every nefarious figure throughout history renowned for cruelties against humanity. “Темные Лорды,” he read to himself and then translated aloud, “Dark Lords.”

  “So, you speak Chinese and Russian.”

  “I’ve been around for a while.” Rhane ran a finger across the worn leather. “It leaves plenty of time to learn new things.”

  The book smelled of age and secrets. Rhane recognized many faces that leapt out from the yellowed pages as he flipped through. Few of them were truly human. He stopped on the reproduction of a crude painting that was meant to be him, the green-eyed warrior of the plains, sitting astride Megiddo. An awesome sight to behold and even better to ride, the horse had been one of his most faithful soldiers. Rhane’s eyes flicked over the print quickly. History saw him as a traitor and a murderer. It was true.

  Kalista cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

  “It’s alright.” He remembered her mentioning the book some time ago. “Tell me again how you knew what was written here.”

  “I-I took it to a bookstore. There was someone there who knew the language.”

  Dread nipped at his gut. “Someone there could read this?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was his name?”

  “It was a she. Her name was Lara. Red hair. Oddly pretty. Way creepy.”

  “Where’s this store, Kalista? What’s it called?”

  “Clever Dust Booksellers. Is something wrong?” A shadow of fear crossed her face.

  Rhane shook his head and told himself to lighten up. “Sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I can take care of this for you.” When her expression didn’t change, he mustered up his most reassuring smile. “Really, it is nothing.”

  Accepting that, she turned and hurried off to class. He watched her until she disappeared into the building. Why had he just lied? It was far from nothing. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  Chapter 8

  Rhane flipped the book over. The stamped signature was definitely less than a hundred years old, probably put there within the last decade. He squinted and took a closer look. The ink was much fresher. “Property of Aiken County.” Huh.

  Stopping at a red light, Rhane turned right onto a one way street that led to the county library and found a space. Swinging his long legs out of the truck, he grabbed the book from the seat but stopped when a slip of paper fluttered from the worn pages. He caught the slip mid-air. It was a receipt for the Wok and Roll restaurant, the place where he and Kali had their first date. An address and phone number were scrawled on the back. Rhane pocketed the piece of paper. He wasn’t a fan of coincidences.

  He climbed back inside the pickup to reexamine the volume. Opening the front cover, he ran his fingers down the hinge and across the endsheets. Then he flipped to the back and repeated the process. Something was amiss. The feel against the pastedown was slightly different. He bent the covers backward until the old joints gave in. They seemed more than ready to do so, tired of guarding their secret after so many years. Peeling away the endsheet revealed a piece of parchment bound in the same leather as the quarter-million dollar map stashed away at the manor. His Chinese contact, Tsai, had given him that map. Rhane exhaled. Things had just gotten more complicated.

  He slid the book underneath the back seat, deciding to go inside the library after all. One of the librarians greeted him as soon as he entered. It was a pale, skinny college kid who was more in need of a haircut than Rhane had ever been. He asked if Rhane had renewed his membership for the year.

  Two lies came out without him thinking. “Yeah, I have. I’m just here to pick up my kid.”

  “Okay. Let us know if you need anything.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Following the trail no human could, he went up the stairs and headed straight for the reference section. It didn’t take long to find the book’s former hiding place. The scent on the aisle was overpowering. Something else had been there recently looking for it. That was all Rhane needed to know. He went back to the lobby, not missing the scrutinizing glare from the skinny kid as he slipped through the front door.

  Rhane’s next stop was Clever Dust Booksellers. He thought the quaint design of the building fit the name perfectly until he noticed the flower arrangement in the front window. It was comprised of wolf’s bane and the deep blue blossoms of monkshood. They were a warning to keep away. He pushed through the front door and the smell hit him like a freight train. It was the same from the library.

  The shopkeeper, a mirthful looking fellow with many miles and stories behind him, stood at the counter. “Harry” was written on the name tag clipped to his collar. The old man broke into a smile. “Welcome, sir. How may I be of assistance today?”

  Rhane got straight to the point. “I need to speak with a woman who works here, Lara.”

  Harry seemed confused. “Excuse me?”

  “Lara,” he repeated, “I need to see her.”

  “I’m sorry. You must be mistaken. There is no Lara working here.”

  Rhane slowly moved closer to the counter. Harry wasn’t being truthful. His heart had started to race. His jolly body trembled with the lie. Rhane leaned in next to the old man. “What if I told you I was certain she was here?”

  Harry’s eyes widened with panic and roamed to the back of the shop. “Please,” he whispered. “Lara does not wish to see you.”r />
  Rhane heard footsteps that abruptly stopped. He smiled, putting a conscious effort into making himself less frightening. “You don’t mind if I have a look around,” he said, striding toward where the noise had come from. Past several rows of bookshelves, he came to a workshop where numerous projects lay uncompleted. His eyes swept the area but noticed nothing unusual. Rhane stepped into the room. Immediately, a different feeling sank upon him. Something else was there. It was watching him, carefully hidden.

  With a few cautious steps, Rhane went forward. A curtain hung conspicuously in the back corner. He grabbed the tattered material and yanked the curtain aside. A flurry of motion exploded behind him, leaping from the shadows with a hiss. Even as the sound split the air, the heat of its breath grazed Rhane’s neck. He whirled to deflect the attack, closing his hand around a slender but strong wrist. Rhane pulled forward and sideways, using momentum to change its direction like a whip. The thing went flying across the room and landed with a crash, sending everything cascading from the back wall in a tumble. But his attacker was up in a flash. It fled the room, a blur of red hair spilling from a dark cloak.

  Rhane ran behind it, banging the door against the building as he burst outside. But as fast as he had moved, the alleyway was empty when he reached it. He dropped into a low crouch, listening and smelling for the other presence. Nothing. The rogue, she was long gone.

  Chapter 9

  “What would a rogue want with a catalogue that details dark lords? Most of the filth in it would be of their kind.”

  Thanks a lot, Rhane thought. “Maybe she was feeling nostalgic.”

  River snorted through the line. “Rogues are nothing more than murderous sociopaths capable of appreciating nothing except the blood of their victims.”

  “I don’t think it was the book they were after. Something was hidden in the back of it, a list of some sort. Come to the manor and have a look at it. A side by side comparison with the map may give us some idea of why this thing is so important.”

  “I guess it would be worth a shot.”

  “Thanks.” A different question occurred to Rhane as he slipped the book underneath the seat again. “Is Orrin with you?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “I didn’t realize it was my turn to babysit.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rhane bit back his initial reply. Sometimes, River could be a pain. “He’s still searching for the college kid that went missing nearly a month ago.”

  “Yes. I know.”

  The condescending tone of River’s statement made Rhane grind his teeth. River had information. That much he could tell. His brother just wanted him to beg for it. Rhane waited.

  It took a full minute, but River finally spoke. “Get to the High Falls reserve in Jackson. During my last communication with Orrin, he was headed into the abandoned campgrounds in the southwest part of a nearby ghost town.”

  “That’s over three hours away.”

  “He is persistent,” River said flatly. “I’ll give him that.”

  “Were you helping him look for the kid?”

  “I was making sure he didn’t get into trouble.”

  “What changed? He’s still out there and you’re not with him.”

  “I am not with him, but I am at the reserve.”

  “What?”

  “I think he’s in trouble. I was essentially about to call you.”

  Rhane swore. The diesel engine of his truck roared to life. “I’m on my way.”

  “Should I wait for your arrival?”

  Hesitating for a hair split of a second, Rhane was uncertain how exactly he felt. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust River. And Orrin was a skilled fighter. Whatever had him out of contact had to be serious. But if something bad had happened, Rhane would have been able to feel it. He wasn’t truly Orrin’s sire, but as the boy’s surrogate, a special bond had grown between them. A bond like one shared by those of the same bloodlines. He made a decision and hoped it was the right one. “Wait for me. I’m on my way.”

  #

  A navy blue pickup barreled into the camping area, kicking up thick plumes of dust and gravel in its wake. It was York. Right after hanging up, Rhane had placed a call to his second. Arriving less than ten minutes behind Rhane, York hadn’t disappointed.

  River stared coolly at the approaching vehicle. A mighty wind brewed, summoned by the storm east of their location. It snatched the remaining leaves from hibernating trees and whipped Rhane’s dark hair into his eyes. But River seemed almost untouched by the natural elements. His long, white hair was barely stirred. His clothes scarcely rustled. He reminded Rhane so much of their father, it almost hurt. Even now, the differences between them were a steady reminder of what an outcast Rhane had been from the beginning—even before he’d met the siren.

  “The war ape has finally arrived,” River said as York emerged from the heavy duty truck. He had purposefully spoken against the wind so it would not reach York’s ears.

  Adjusting the strap that secured Bellefuron across his back, Rhane glanced at his brother. “Will you ever muster the courage to say such insults to his face?”

  River smirked. It was one of the few human expressions he had mastered. “No. Men of his sort would naturally react with violence. And I have no desire to fight him.”

  “Maybe you guys would get along better if you did.”

  “No. I think he would try to kill me.”

  “He might.” Rhane saw no need to lie. Honesty couldn’t possibly make things worse. “But could you blame him?”

  River was silent.

  York trotted over and thrust a blue slip of paper under Rhane’s nose. “I got here as fast as I could. This is yours now.”

  Rhane took the ticket, ogled the amount and then pocketed it. “I’ll take care of it.”

  York looked around. He was all business. “What’s our situation?”

  Rhane suppressed sigh. York became a different man in River’s presence. While the two had never been on each other’s fan lists, in the past they had managed to find a way to work together. But after that last time…Rhane couldn’t be sure they would ever get over it.

  “River thinks Orrin may have found King Richard’s body and some trouble with it.”

  York’s brows shot up. “That college kid?”

  Rhane nodded.

  “If this guy knew Orrin was in trouble, then why didn’t he go help him?” York addressed the question to Rhane while giving River an accusatory glare that fell just short of murderous.

  “He’s still here because I want us all to go in there together.”

  “So now he’s following orders?”

  “York. Save it for later.” Rhane noticed his brother looking past York as if he didn’t exist. “Better yet, save it for never.”

  Throwing back his head impatiently, Rhane trilled a whistle into the late afternoon sky. A faint cry answered him. It was Orrin. He was okay. Rhane whistled again. Come to us.

  Can’t, Orrin answered. Help.

  Snarling a curse, York dropped to all fours and disappeared into the trees without waiting for orders. River stood watching Rhane expectantly.

  Rhane bit out a command with more heat than he meant to. “Go.”

  Chapter 10

  The smell hit them hard. It was a pungent blend of rose petals and a fermented dumpster. Their smell…the smell of rogues almost masked the scent of the rotting corpse. But sulfide and methane gases released from a decaying body left an unmistakable odor. Rhane pulled up short. River, running next to him in human form, slowed as well.

  It wasn’t the smell that made them stop. Shadows high above in the pine trees had moved like no natural fauna would. Rhane glanced up. River nodded. He had seen them too. But there was nothing to do except move forward. River took the rear. His eyes and ears were sharp for the attack that could rain down on their heads at any moment. Trusting his brother to provide the first defensive should that happen, Rhane focu
sed all his senses into finding Orrin. He didn’t whistle again. That would signal their position to every rogue lurking in the forest.

  Rhane closed his eyes, letting his mind project every sound into a three-dimensional map. And then he saw them. York moved so covertly, he was just a faint outline. But he too was being stalked. Orrin was less than half a mile away. And he was surrounded.

  Knowing the rogues had a reason for not attacking and realizing there were far too many of them to bother with stealth, Rhane started running. Already pumping hard, his adrenaline surged when the cacophony erupted. Pine needles rustled violently overhead. Rogues screeched. River swore.

  At some point, they burst through a line of hostiles that hemmed Orrin in place. The large brown wolf whirled, snapping and snarling as Rhane and River plowed through the dense undergrowth and came out almost on top of him. When recognition filled the honey colored eyes of his battle skin, the wolf’s ears laid back in relieved submission. Together, they turned to face the approaching danger. An enormous black wolf reached them and immediately moved to flank. It was York.

  River’s eyes drilled into Rhane’s profile. “This is why we need Banewolf.”

  “Sorry.” Rhane drew his sword. Bellefuron’s metallic song hummed into the wind, anticipating another chance to fulfill the purpose for which it had been forged.

  A dozen hooded figures emerged from the trees, gliding rather walking across the leaves. Shadows darkened the silver masks covering each of the rogue’s faces. Long leather cloaks shielded their bodies from natural sunlight—the only thing that could strip away their human appearances and reveal the monstrosities of their true nature.

  The figures stopped advancing. And for a long breath, nothing else moved.

  “River, we’ve got a fight coming. Harness your skin.”

  River obeyed. Silver fur immediately began to course across his arms and face. A large wolf appeared where he once stood. And then madness descended upon the Warekin. From all sides and above, the rogues attacked. A furious snarl ripped from York’s throat. In the next second, the claws of a Siberian-sized paw shredded a rogue into three separate pieces. The snarl ended when his jaws clamped onto the head of another.