Shadow's Howl Page 6

  “Maybe you should just go,” Logan said, trying to keep his composure.

  “That would be a bad idea.”

  Jennifer blinked when she realized the voice that had spoken wasn’t hers. Turning, she looked at Liam, who had been the one to speak.

  It appeared, judging by the shocked look on his face, that he was just as stunned by his own intervention as she was. Logan too, she noted as the rebel leader stared at his man.

  “What?” she asked into the silence.

  “Go on,” Logan said, looking back and forth at the two of them. “I’m listening.”

  “There are still ways we can use her skills,” Liam said, speaking slowly, clearly formulating his argument as he went. “Even if she can’t just waltz in there and blow everything apart for us. As fun as that would be.”

  “You know what you’re saying, don’t you?” Logan asked.

  “I do.”

  Jennifer didn’t understand. Up until a minute ago Liam had been tearing her a new one, telling her to go, that he didn’t want her around because it would risk the lives of him and his comrades. Now, when he had a chance to do just that, to get rid of her, he was arguing…that she should stay?

  It was beyond confusing, really.

  “Two weeks,” Logan said abruptly, looking back and forth between the two of them sternly.

  “Two weeks what?” she asked, not entirely understanding.

  “Two weeks until we strike,” Logan said. “Any more time will give the Tyrant King a chance to recover his numbers, to call in supporters from cities around the world. If we wait, we risk losing our window of opportunity.”

  “Two weeks,” she repeated slowly. Jennifer had been expecting more time than that.

  “Yes. So, you two had best get to work coming up with a plan on how to make use of her skills.” Logan fixed Liam with a stern stare. “Don’t let me down.”

  “I won’t,” Liam replied with a confidence Jennifer knew he didn’t feel.

  The leader turned and left, mumbling something about smacking the two idiots who had started the fracas in the kitchen before putting them on potato peeling duty.

  “Why?” she asked the moment he was gone, turning to look at Liam.

  “Why what?”

  “You defended me. After spending the past day berating me, telling me you didn’t trust me or want me around, you go and do that for me to Logan? I don’t understand. Why would you do that for me?”

  Liam shook his head. “I didn’t do it for you,” he said gruffly.

  “It certainly seemed like it,” she said, confused.

  “Well, it wasn’t.”

  “Why bother then? You could have been rid of me. Logan would have sent me away if you hadn’t spoken up. Isn’t that what you want?” she asked, trying to understand this enigmatic hunk.

  Stop thinking about his looks. That smoldering fire he directs at you when he’s angry, that somehow makes him more attractive. Push that out of your mind. Now!

  “Because I’m trying to figure out what your angle is,” he said. “Ever heard the phrase, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer?”

  Jennifer raised her eyebrows. “You truly think I’m your enemy? Seriously? You actually, one hundred percent, think I am out here to do you harm? That’s what you’re saying?”

  She couldn’t help herself. She laughed.

  “Well, you certainly aren’t a friend,” he rumbled. “Not with all the secrets you’re hiding, that’s for sure.”

  While she was standing there gap-mouthed in astonishment at his brazen declaration of her status, Liam moved past her and got onto the four-wheeler, firing it up.

  “Where are you going?” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the engine.

  “To get some damn breakfast,” came the reply. “I’m not used to dealing with this much shit on an empty stomach. If you want to act like a friend, try to stand your ground this time so I don’t have to start a brawl, will you?”

  She wanted to slap him, to cast any number of spells on the arrogant jerk, but she didn’t. Not because she was too nice—Jennifer most definitely was not that—but because of how he’d phrased his reply.

  Liam was effectively extending an invite for her to come with him. It was a backhanded bit of politeness, but a slight crack in his normally rude exterior, and she intended to exploit it for all it was worth. Maybe she could crack his shell open, find out what made him tick, and why he hated her so much when he barely knew her.

  “Sure, I’d love to go to breakfast with you,” she said, hopping on the back of the four-wheeler.

  She pointedly ignored his grumbled reply. It was not like he was the only one having trouble putting up with the other on an empty stomach.

  12

  This time, they headed out to the field on full stomachs. It made for a much more pleasant drive, especially considering he hadn’t left behind a brawl threatening to destroy the lower level of the ranch house.

  She’s going to be the death of me if I let that happen again.

  Of course, she might be the literal death of him too if they couldn’t come up with some sort of alternative plan, or train her up in time. Which they couldn’t. Liam was no mage, but he understood it took time to develop reflexes and instinct for combat situations. They didn’t just happen overnight or in a two-week bootcamp scenario. It took months, if not years, to develop and hone those skills.

  That was time they just didn’t have.

  The four-wheeler rumbled to a halt almost exactly where they had stopped the first time. But with his belly full, Liam was in a much more patient mood.

  “So, are you any less of a jerk when you’ve been fed?” Jennifer asked as he killed the power.

  Well, he had been in a more patient mood. It remained to be seen for just how much longer that would last. Jennifer had a way of getting under his skin that was driving him insane. It was like every little thing she said somehow found a chink in his armor, but not only that, she knew it as well. It was infuriating.

  “I am not a jerk,” he protested, knowing full well he sounded like he was in denial.

  It wasn’t that he was a jerk. He just didn’t trust her, and therefore wasn’t going to open up to her with warmth and friendliness. If she couldn’t handle that, too bad.

  “Right.” She didn’t believe him, clearly. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll rephrase. Are you any more open to believing people if they tell you things when you’ve got a full stomach?”

  He smiled beatifically. “I’m always open to believing people.”

  Jennifer opened her mouth to say something, but he kept speaking right over of her.

  “When they’re telling the truth.”

  Her mouth clapped shut, eyes narrowing into a glare not brought about by the sun.

  “Which you aren’t,” he added firmly.

  “For the last time, I’m not lying to you, Liam!” she shouted, clenching her fists, head trembling ever so slightly.

  “I don’t believe that,” he said bluntly, giving her a shrug and walking farther out into the open field, to better avoid looking at her.

  How was he supposed to believe her? The signs were all there for anyone to see. The evasive answering, the incomplete reasons. The acting like she was something she wasn’t.

  Liam hadn’t seen it with Layton. Then again, why should he have? The two were best friends. They were open with one another, shared everything. So he’d thought, at least. Liam hadn’t held back about his feelings toward the Tyrant King, but it seemed Layton had, disguising his true allegiance and then openly exposing Liam to danger.

  It was that last part that had truly killed any trust he had left in him, any belief people could be friends, that he could expect others to be honorable. The betrayal was why he didn’t trust Jennifer now, because he could see plain as day she was setting them up for another one. Nobody else could see it, but he could.

  The thing about it all was, if Layton had explained things, told Liam he was sympathetic
to the Throne and wasn’t willing to leave, Liam could have accepted that. It would have hurt, he would have felt lost, but this conflict had divided families. What was one more friendship to fall before it, right?

  That wasn’t where his anger stemmed from. No, that came from the fact Layton had taken it ten steps further and had actively conspired against Liam. He’d informed the Tyrant King of Liam’s intentions to escape, and then had come personally to arrest him, and see him thrown into the dungeons.

  It was as if they’d never been friends. Like all the years of having one another’s backs was gone in a heartbeat, evaporated like water before a flash fire. The loss of that was what cut the deepest, a wound that even months later, dug deep when he thought about it. Liam had accepted it was done, but he wasn’t through grieving just yet.

  After that…

  “I can’t trust anyone,” he said. “Least of all a random mage who shows up for no reason.”

  “It’s not for no reason,” she snapped, following him into the field, robe flapping around her shins, hair caught in the wind, billowing out slightly behind her. It was quite the impressive sight.

  But Liam didn’t let it faze him.

  “Nobody ‘does the right thing’ anymore,” he growled, looming large and tall over her. “If that were the case, then we wouldn’t even be fighting this war, Jennifer. If people did the right thing, then House Canis would still be united, and nobody would have been hurt.”

  He slammed his jaw closed so fast he bit his cheek, angry at himself for letting that last bit slip out. He hadn’t meant to disclose anything to her, but the way her face reacted, first with surprise, then suspicion, told him she had clued in to far more than he wanted.

  “What?” he asked in that same growl as she continued to stare at him.

  “This war hurt you personally,” she said softly, stepping closer. “Didn’t it?”

  “There’s a hundred shifters back there,” he said, pointing at the barn. “Each one of them has been hurt in some way shape or form. It’s not unusual.”

  “Well they’re not my escort, bodyguard and prison jailor, now are they?” Jennifer asked, moving just a little closer, her expression softening as she looked up at him.

  He saw the fire of anger and frustration at his treatment of her give way to something resembling compassion. It scared him, to see how easily she could fake giving a shit. She was good, is what she was, very good. Well trained at being a spy, that was for sure. Who had sent her, he wondered?

  “I’m not whoever it was that hurt you, Liam,” she said softly, reaching up to his chest with a hand.

  He snarled wordlessly and stepped backward. “My personal life is none of your damn business. Stop pretending. Drop this charade of caring,” he growled at her.

  Jennifer shook her head. “I’m not pre—”

  “You need to get to work.”

  She dropped her hand back to her side with a whispered sigh. There was a look in those jade eyes, however, one that promised him the conversation was not actually over, no matter how much he willed it to be.

  “We only have two weeks to get you to the point where you can beat a trained shifter-mage with decades of experience,” he said, addressing her facial expression. “I’m not overly optimistic.”

  “You know nothing about me, Liam,” Jennifer countered. “I’m not some novice who just entered the Academy. I was a Dean there. I’m a third-level power mage.”

  He hadn’t known the specifics of her magical classification but being a third level was stronger than he’d given her credit for. The mages at the Academy worked on a ten-tier ranking system for particular mages’ gifts.

  The last tier-one mages had been killed a century ago. There were, to his admittedly limited knowledge, only several dozen tier-two strength mages in the entire world. That meant Jennifer was one of the most dangerous and powerful mages he’d ever met. Unfortunately, all her training was in exactly the wrong discipline.

  “Have you ever been in a fight, Jenny?” he asked, trying out another version of her name.

  “What, like a mage fight? No, you know that.” She looked at him like he was slow.

  Ignoring the non-verbal insult, he continued. “No, any kind of fight. At all. Physical. Verbal. Whatever.”

  “Um.” Jennifer hesitated, head cocked to one side as she thought his question over. “No, I guess not.”

  “I could have told you that in a fraction of the time. It’s obvious,” he said, rolling his neck, loosening it.

  “What’s the point you’re trying to make here, Liam?” she asked tersely. “Because if we’re running so short of time, perhaps you should hurry up and make it? I haven’t got all day here.”

  He grinned. Sometimes, her feisty nature was just the way he enjoyed it. Sharp, but not wounding.

  “A fight is as much about strength, as it is about experience. Go find the biggest gym rat you can. Then find a flyweight mixed martial arts fighter. The big guy is going down. Because he doesn’t know how to fight. His strength is useless unless he’s trained to use it. For years.”

  “Well we don’t have years.”

  “Exactly. Which is why I’m not optimistic. You need that time to learn to cast spells reflexively. Without thought, without needing to think which spell would be best used in what situation. It needs to be ingrained upon you at a lower level. Just like with fighting with a sword, or hand to hand. You must know the moves, so you can begin your counter before your brain even knows what’s going on.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I think I actually believe that.” Liam rubbed his head, short hair fanning across his fingertips. “The problem is, it won’t be enough. If you screw up, which is what happens when someone gets into a fight before they’re ready, then people will die. My comrades here, will die.” His face was like granite as he looked at her, impassive, immovable. “Do you understand yet why I’m having a hard time with this, Jenny?” he finished with a growl, raising his voice more than intended.

  To his surprise, she stepped forward, getting right up into his space. As close as someone a foot shorter than him could get, at least. Despite the height difference, the burning intensity on her face made him take a step back reflexively.

  “Two things,” she said, her voice just as intense, just as serious as his. “First off, my name is Jennifer. If you’re nice, which you haven’t been yet, you can call me Jen. If you’re a dick, which seems to be your specialty, then you can call me Jennifer, or if you really don’t want to use my name, Miss Shaw. Get it?”

  If there was something Liam could respect, it was having balls—tits? Courage. He settled on courage—to stand up to someone so much bigger, stronger and faster.

  “Of course, Jennifer,” he said, giving her that point. It didn’t cost him much. After all, he’d won a point by getting under her skin with ‘Jenny’ in the first place.

  “Don’t patronize me.” She didn’t let him get away, however, taking another step, staying so close they were practically touching.

  The proximity between them was firing off signals in his brain. Signals he fought to ignore, to push aside. He couldn’t listen to them. Physical urges, desire. Lust. It tumbled around inside him like clothes in the dryer, hot, wet, and all a mess.

  Do it. Take her. You know she wants it.

  Her scent was on the wind. Liam breathed deep, nostrils flaring while he watched her, eyes taking in every curve and angle of her face, trying to avoid the depths of her eyes. That abyss of green perfection was too easy to get lost in.

  He nearly lost control when her lips parted ever so slightly, a sign he wasn’t the only one being rocked by the moment, drawn into something closer, deeper.

  Where had it come from, he wondered? This intensity. It was as if their hatred for one another had hidden this fiery desire. Was it lust? It had to be lust, he thought, eyes playing over her body. Oh yes, he could take her right there over the four-wheeler and be more than happy.

  Pop!
<
br />   He blinked at the unexpected sound as it shattered their little bubble. They exchanged a quick look of ‘was that you? No. Was it you?’, before they both turned their heads in the direction of the sound.

  Just in time to witness someone else in a mage robe step out of thin air into the field twenty feet to his right.

  13

  As grateful as she was for the reprieve from the unexpected connection between them, Jennifer would rather have had just about any other outcome than the one she was witnessing unfold in front of her.

  A natural disaster would have been less devastating than this.

  “Hello Jennifer.”

  She bit back her immediate response, instead putting on a false smile and using what she called her ‘customer service voice’.

  “Daniel, how nice to see you.”

  Okay, maybe that voice could do with some improvement. Such as lessening the hostility and making it sound more genuine. Oops.

  Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed together in mild irritation, but like everything else, he didn’t let it faze him. That, of course, was why the Mage Council preferred to have him do the delivering of their messages.

  Messages. More like orders.

  “Uh, who the hell is this?” Liam asked from at her side.

  “Why are you here Daniel?” She ignored Liam. With the spell between them broken, it was easy to get back to dismissing him. Besides, this was her issue to deal with. Not his.

  “You know full well why I’m here, Jennifer,” Daniel said, closing the gap between them until he was no more than ten feet away. “Don’t act like you’re surprised.”

  She wasn’t surprised at his presence, only his speed. As she’d told no one of her intentions, this was an obvious giveaway that the Council was watching her closer than she’d suspected.

  “Tell the Council I’m sorry for leaving my position at the Academy without formal warning,” she said.

  Hopefully, Liam would be able to clue in as to what was going on here without her having to explain everything to him. It was really quite simple after all.