Love Bites (Crescent City Werewolves: The Short Stories)

Tides of Silver and Blood (Part 1 of 6)

Her voice rose with the sun, the howl piercing the line of cypresses that marked where the beach slid into proper Mulgrew territory. She called out again, heart thumping wildly in her chest even as she held the spear steady, ready to scare off any bird or crab that drew too close. It was only right to watch over her with the same care she'd give a fellow sea-sister until the city wolves responded to her howls.

When they came, guards in their uniforms of leather, wool, and shiny brass buttons and enchanters with their bandoliers heavy with tools, she knew enough to get out of their way. While she sat on a large piece of driftwood, waiting to be called over, a few of the younger guards kept glancing her way, gazes roaming over her bared breasts and tight belly. She didn't flush at their attention but didn't provoke it, either, thoughts hazy with worry instead of lust. A she-wolf washing up from a watery grave. Murdered, at that. What could it mean?

It wasn't the brisk wind that made her shudder, and she looked away from the city wolves and their castle far above. Instead, her gaze followed the ribbon of shore to distant, broken hills where the sea-wolves had carved their homes right into the cliffside. Her sisters were about to wake, and her absence was about to be discovered while the others ate cod-and-egg scramble and drank kelp tea.

Suddenly, she understood how remote they could seem to outsiders, how out of reach—something she'd never fully grasped while among the rest of her sea-sisters. She glanced around at the city wolves, taking in how their faces wrinkled in disgust at the sand pooling into their trouser cuffs and how their dagger hilts were encrusted with gems, and shivered again, wishing she'd waited for Nora or Izzie to wake up and hunt with her.

The murmurs of conversation that slid around her like sea foam suddenly hushed, warning her to pay attention. The wolves around the body had all turned toward the stairway that led from the cypresses to the shore, watching as three newcomers made their way down crooked wooden steps built right into the sand. Then the guards straightened their uniforms and the enchanters looked busy with their tools, a silent signal spreading among them all. The royal inspectors had appeared.

Even Joan knew that these wolves were some of the few to carry the ultimate authority of their queen, and she watched them with open curiosity. Two wore the black uniforms of their field, the gold and mother-of-pearl embellishments along their shoulders and lapels suggesting they were very high in rank. Well-fed, puffing from the slight exercise of walking through sand. She dismissed them without a second thought.

The third wolf was bare-headed and stripped down to his shirtsleeves and shoulder holsters, seemingly unaware of the sand clinging to his dark trousers while he approached the protective wards that the enchanters had drawn around the body. He had a badge clipped to his belt, a gold one engraved with the Upper Mulgrew insignia that revealed who he was—the chief royal inspector.

Joan blinked, taking in the shape of his forehead and nose, the dark color of his hair and the strong lines of his shoulders as he studied the remains. They were the only features she'd really been able to see, so many months ago in the hospital. If it was him—and she felt surer with each passing moment that it was—then from the cane he used, his right knee had never fully recovered from the silver bullet that had shattered it.

Even as the muscles in her body tightened into knots, one of the enchanters speaking with him pointed in her direction, and he turned to look. Meeting his eyes had the same effect of diving into the early-morning waters of the sea: a shock that froze the breath and then silence except for her heartbeat thrumming in her ears.

She knew the nearby guards watched her, not liking how she stared so boldly at what had to be one of the highest members of their pack. They could go to hell for all she cared; after a year of wondering whether he had survived, the answer stood right there in front of her.