Chapter 59
My breath comes out in sharp pants. I stare at my hand, amazed that I’m not holding on to Mako right now. My emotions are in my throat. Horror and panic and a sense of loss I haven’t felt since the day Uncle Jim died. A crushing grief.
I scramble on my hands and knees toward the edge, peering over, but all I see are shadows and rocks. There’s a dark lump far below that might be Mako, but I can’t tell in the darkness. The memory of his vacant expression right before he jumped flashes through my brain.
“Mako!” I shout. “Mako, answer me!”
The silence is deafening.
My fingernails dig into the rocky edge as I continue to search the darkness. Where is he?
“Mako!”
“Get up,” Hawkins snaps from behind me.
I’m fighting my tears, sucking in ragged breaths. My legs shake so wildly it’s difficult to stand. I fall for a second, the weight of loss making it impossible to stay upright.
I hear his footsteps. Self-preservation would usually kick in by now. I should be attacking him, but the shock roots me in place. Mako…damn it…Mako.
I couldn’t save him. Why didn’t I move faster? Why did I let a goddamn gun stop me from saving my friend? The guilt rips into me like a predator tearing into a carcass.
“You fucking bastard,” I whisper, tilting my head toward Hawkins. He’s only six feet away now.
His eyes flicker with regret. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t mind that guy. When I got rid of Zoe, at least I felt like she deserved it. Cheating quat.”
Rage hisses through me.
He raises the gun.
I brace myself, ready for the shot. I have no illusions. This is it.
I see his finger lowering onto the trigger, a nanosecond away from squeezing it, when there’s a flash of movement.
A white blur. Faster than the bullet in Hawkins’s chamber. It bursts from the underbrush behind us with a growl that reverberates through the night.
Hawkins’s shot goes off, but it’s wide, the bullet whizzing near my ear. I stagger to my feet trying to make sense of what’s happening, blinking as the blur takes form and I realize what I’m seeing.
It’s a ridgehowler.
My ridgehowler.
The white wolf crashes into Hawkins and sends him falling to the ground. The gun drops from his hand, lying useless on the dirt, and I catch a glimpse of piercing yellow eyes, gleaming with bloodlust, before Prince’s jaws sink into Hawkins’s throat.
The patch of red fur around his eye looks like dried blood, shades darker than the actual blood pouring from Hawkins. The wolf’s sleek body thrashes as he rips into my would-be killer.
I stand there, frozen. I don’t call off the ridgehowler. I just watch, breathing hard, as Hawkins’s screams fade into gurgles.
Finally, I force my gaze away. With shaky hands, I pick up the discarded gun. But I won’t need to use it.
In the deafening silence that follows, Prince releases Hawkins’s bloody throat and backs away. His muzzle is stained red. When he looks at me, I swear he’s asking for approval.
I nod weakly. “Thanks, boy.”
He shuffles closer to me, brushing his soft head beneath my hand. I reach down, my trembling fingers running through his fur.
With a soft yip, he nuzzles my palm, then disappears into the shadows.
Still shaking, I fumble to get my comm out of my back pocket. I want to reach out to Gray, but I can’t erase his look of revulsion when he discovered the truth about me. I contact Saint instead.
Get to the bluff. Right now. Come alone.
He shows up faster than I expect, stopping in his tracks when he finds me standing over Hawkins’s body.
“What the fuck?” Saint snaps.
Yeah, sounds about right.
“What happened?”
The words spill out in a torrent I can’t contain. I tell him the whole story, from overhearing Kallister’s plot to corrupt innocents, to watching in terror as Hawkins incited Mako to his death, to the ridgehowler coming out of nowhere and mauling Hawkins.
“A ridgehowler did that?” Saint’s gaze fixes on the other man’s injuries.
“Yeah.”
“And it didn’t attack you?”
I shake my head. “No. He’s sort of, ah, a friend, I guess.”
“You made friends with a ridgehowler.” I can’t tell if he’s more perplexed or amused.
“It’s a long story.”
My gaze slides back to Hawkins’s motionless body. The scent of blood hangs sharp in the air, clogging my nostrils.
Saint stalks toward the edge of the cliff. “Fuck,” I hear him whisper. There’s grief in that one syllable. We all loved Mako. When he turns to me, his voice is low, laced with concern. “You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. What do we do?” I can’t contain the panic. “Should we hide the body? Should we storm the Dagger and confront Kallister about what I overheard?”
He thinks it over for a second. Then says, “No.”
“No to which option?”
“Both.” Saint scans the surrounding forest, his cheek hollowing as if he’s chewing the inside of it.
“You can’t confront Kallister until we talk it through with Gray, figure out the best way to play this.
And we can’t dump and hide the body. It’ll take Kallister two seconds to figure out Hawkins is dead. If he hasn’t already.”
I frown. “How?”
“Telepathic energy,” Saint reminds me. “It dies when you die. The moment he tries to reach out to Hawkins, he’ll feel that it’s gone.”
Shit. Good point.
“What’s your solution then?”
“We do nothing.” He nods a few times, as if convincing himself the plan is solid. He gestures to Hawkins. “This looks like an animal attack. That’s all it needs to be.”
“And Mako?”
“Mako fell while he and Hawkins were trying to fight off a ridgehowler. All you and I have to do is walk away. Let someone else find the bodies and draw their own conclusions. It was a tragic wolf attack. Nobody will question it.”
I bite my lower lip so hard I draw blood. “We can’t leave Mako out there all night.”
“Darlington—”
“We can’t.”
He takes a breath, then exhales slowly. “All right. I’ll be the one to find the bodies. I’ll call it in to the security booth and request backup.”
I gnaw harder on my lip. “The cameras will have seen me leave the Dagger. They’ll catch me coming back.”
“I’ll handle the cameras.”
“And the guards in the booth?”
“I’ll handle them, too.”
“How?” Panic rises inside me again. “The guards probably already saw me.”
“It’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll plant a few seeds. Make them realize they didn’t actually see you on any cameras. It was just shadows.”
What the hell is he talking about, plant seeds? This camera situation is a real fucking concern and he’s acting like—
I choke on a gasp.
Holy. Hell. Fuck.
“You’re a persuader,” I accuse.
He just winks.
I’m stunned. I remember Kallister telling me that some Mods have the power to plant ideas in people’s minds, but I never even suspected that Saint possessed a manipulation ability.
“Have you ever used it on me?” I blurt out.
Saint shrugs.
“Bullshit,” I protest. “There’s no way you were able to make me believe something was my own idea.”
He chuckles. “So you usually calmly walk away from fights?”
“What are—”
I stop. Godfucker! The night of the bonfire when I “decided” to walk away from Neema and Evlynne while every cell in my body was telling me to hit them. That was Saint planting an idea?
Fucking prick.
Yet this prick is about to save my ass, so I suppose I’ll forgive the transgression.
“Can we handle our business now?” he asks politely.
As a wave of gratitude washes over me, I step forward and wrap my arms around him in a quick, panicky hug. “Thank you.”
Nodding, Saint steps out of the embrace and nudges me forward. “I’ve got this. Just go back to your quarters. Act like nothing happened.”
I take one last look at Hawkins’s body, then twist on my heel and hurry away.
The Dagger is in chaos. Or at least I imagine it is.
Me, I’m holed up in my quarters like Saint ordered, praying he was able to follow through on everything he said he’d do.
Wipe the cameras. Persuade the guards. I can’t be linked to what happened to Mako and Hawkins.
Not until I figure out how I’m going to handle this Kallister situation.
News of the attack has already spread, because my comm has gone off several times. Two messages from Tana, telling me what happened. And one from Gray, which surprises me. I assumed he’d never speak to me again.
Tana called it an animal attack. Likely a wolf, she’d reported.
I sit on the edge of my bed, my eyes burning with unshed tears, my mind replaying everything that happened tonight. I should’ve tried harder to save Mako. Why didn’t I save him? Who cares if Hawkins would’ve shot me?
I should’ve taken that bullet.
Mako might still be alive if I had.
Finally, despite Saint’s orders, I can’t sit in this room one second longer. I stumble out of my quarters and into the nearest common room. I need a drink.
Turns out I’m not the only one.
The room is packed with people, gathering at the tables, huddled together on the sofas and chairs. The mood is somber. Subdued.
“I can’t believe Mako is dead,” someone mumbles, and it takes a moment for me to realize it’s Henley. I’ve never heard his voice sound so ravaged. Gone is the teasing drawl, the dancing eyes.
I walk over and snatch the bottle of glenshade from his hand, because the drink locker is too far away. He doesn’t object, looking distraught as he watches me take a long swig.
“You heard?”
I nod.
“This is so fucked,” he mutters. “Wolves never come this close to the Dagger. What the fuck was a wolf doing out there?”
A sharp sob breaks through the din, and we turn to see Raven Persimmons being comforted by two of her friends. Tears streak her cheeks as she cries in their arms.
When she notices us, she staggers to her feet, pushing toward our table.
“Henley,” she says between choked sobs. “It was me.”
I stiffen for a second, thinking she’s for some reason taking responsibility for what happened tonight.