Chapter 29
ALL OR NOBODY
Ziara
We ran.
In wolf form, the pack would have covered twice the distance in half the time, with me riding on Mack’s back. But shifting burned energy we couldn’t spare, and we’d need our strength—and our weapons—for whatever waited at the other end of this mad dash.
So, the others remained on two legs with me, and we ate up the miles at the steady, punishing pace Rust had beaten into my muscle memory since childhood.
Dad led, rifle slung across his back, reading the bizarre terrain as if he’d been here before.
I stayed beside Mack at the rear, trying not to gawk at our freakish surroundings because I needed to stay focused.
We’d survived the creepy fishmen and evaded the slavers, but the bloodstone pulsed against my thigh with every stride, a constant reminder of the threat we had yet to face.
Socotra was otherworldly beautiful. The further inland we climbed, the stranger and more colorful the landscape became.
Fat, fleshy plants with leaves like swords sprouted between boulders.
Gnarled shrubs bore bright orange pods that smelled faintly of cinnamon.
A bird with iridescent blue plumage and a curved, scimitar-like beak watched us pass from a rocky perch, its head tilting with an intelligence that made me uneasy.
Even the air felt different. Thicker. Charged with power that reminded me of the moment before a thunderstorm. Only this anticipation smelled like honey.
Whatever this was would irrevocably change my world; I just knew it.
I’d always been willing to die for my pack, but that truth hit a little differently now that energy crackled beneath my skin. It made me want to bolt in the opposite direction.
I will not be a coward.
The alpha slowed as we crested a ridge, and I nearly plowed into Rust’s back.
Below, a canyon split the plateau like a jagged wound gouged into the earth.
Pale limestone walls plunged into a narrow gorge choked with vegetation.
At its heart, turquoise pools of water glinted in the midday sun.
Dragon blood trees lined the rim, their umbrella canopies casting pockets of shade.
Despite the bizarre beauty, it was the feeling in my chest that stopped me cold.
Power vibrated from the very earth, humming up through my boots and into my bones. It echoed off the canyon walls in waves I could feel in my teeth. This place was old. Not old like the den’s tunnels or the ruins of downtown Seattle. Old, like the first breath the world ever took.
“Wadi Dirhur,” Dad said, scanning the canyon before settling his gaze on the narrow gap between the two towering limestone walls that made up the canyon’s entrance. “That’s where we need to be.”
Rust followed his gaze and frowned. “Bottleneck. Perfect place for an ambush.”
His tone held only respectful curiosity, but he was still questioning the alpha. Rust was one of the few who would dare.
Dad nodded, doubling down on his decision. “Stay sharp.”
We skirted the deadly cavern until we found a natural staircase of flat rocks that conveniently led right to where we needed to go. Descending single file, we picked our way down to the entrance. The mountain looked as if it had been split into two by jealous gods in a custody battle.
A figure stood at the base, blocking the entrance to the gorge, its back to us.
But as we reached the valley floor, I realized the tip of the little person’s head barely reached my waist. They were tiny compared to the alpha.
Messy curls that looked a lot like moss sat atop a head that was far too large for its body.
Their robe might once have been white, but it was now caked in the red dirt of the canyon walls.
So fixated on the rock face, they must not have heard our approach because anyone with half a brain cell would have gotten the hell out of there.
Were they deaf? Nose blind? Suicidal?
Rather than punish the person for being so stupid, Dad stopped about twenty-five feet away and pulled a handheld translator from the pocket of his vest, speaking into it. “Greetings. I’m Alpha Chaz McCarthy of the Evergreen Pack.”
He paused, and the device chirped, repeating the message in Arabic.
No reaction. Not a twitch of a pointed, moss-covered ear.
Dad tried again. “My packmates and I require an audience with the Ancient.”
He might have been talking to a statue for all the response he got.
The alpha’s jaw ticked. Patience wasn’t a virtue he valued. He shoved the translator back into his vest and closed the distance in powerful strides. His hand landed on the creature’s shoulder.
The person vanished.
One instant, Dad’s hand was on a solid shoulder, and in the blink of an eye, his fingers closed on empty air.
“What the fuck?” he asked.
“There!” Mack said, pointing to the little bastard who was now right behind us, smirking.
And… female. Oh, wow. I hadn’t seen that coming.
Hand on his sword, the alpha pivoted in this new direction. He took all of three steps before she disappeared again.
And reappeared exactly where she’d been before, back to us, examining the rock face as if we’d never interrupted her.
“Rehabhen, I—” Dad started, only to be interrupted by a theatrical sigh.
She finally turned around, and intelligence shone through the obsidian eyes that watched our approach. We were all heavily armed, and Dad alone could have ripped her in two, yet she didn’t show even a hint of fear. She grinned, flashing her pointed teeth at us.
“Visitors.” Her grin fell. “To what do I owe the dishonor?”
I braced, anticipating Dad to answer her disrespect with bloodshed, but the alpha’s grip only flexed around his sword hilt. Instead of attacking, he answered through gritted teeth.
“I am Alpha Chaz McCarthy of the Evergreen Pack, here with three of my pack to seek an audience with the Ancient. Grant us passage, Rehabhen.”
Rehabhen cocked her head and studied Dad the way I’d seen Rust examine the dirt beneath his nails before he picked it out. “If you insist on boring me with your drivel,” she said in perfect English, “first, you must catch me.”
She disappeared only to pop back into existence on a ledge to our left, squatting and scratching her face. This time, she waited until Dad was directly under her before she vanished.
“Behind Rust,” I shouted.
But Rust couldn’t even turn before Rehabhen yanked on the strap of his rifle and vanished again.
“Great. A trickster,” Rust grumbled, fixing his strap.
On top of a boulder.
Behind Mack.
Perched on a root.
Each time, she lingered just long enough to be spotted before blinking out of existence. Her manic laughter bounced off the canyon walls, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Catch her!” Dad barked.
We scattered. Mack lunged for the spot where Rehabhen had appeared near a pool, but came up empty. Rust swept left, tracking the trickster’s movements. Dad charged toward the canyon wall where a flash of dirty white fabric flickered between the rocks, only to close his hands on thin air.
The little shit was toying with us.
I stopped chasing and started watching.
She had a pattern. Not obvious, but there was a rhythm to her magic. Every third or fourth blink, she returned to the spot near the canyon entrance where she’d originally stood.
I angled myself toward that home base, leaned against the canyon wall, and pretended to catch my breath.
Three blinks. Boulder. Ledge. Behind Mack.
When Rehabhen materialized again, I pounced.
My arms locked around her before she could blink away, and I squeezed hard enough to empty her lungs. She was startlingly light, but she thrashed with a wiry strength that belied her size, grabbing my arm and holding it tight.
Then she bit me.
Not a nip. Not a warning snap. She sank every last pointed tooth into my forearm.
Cold, rubbery lips suctioned around the wound, and she drank.
Her throat bobbed as fire laced up my veins.
I screamed through gritted teeth, wishing I could rip my arm free to gut the little parasite.
But with the telltale smell of magic, my body locked down. I couldn’t even wiggle my fingers.
Fighting through the blinding pain, I looked to my father for help.
Dad stood ten feet away, one hand clamped on Mack’s shoulder, the other gripping Rust’s arm. Mack’s eyes blazed amber with his wolf, and Rust aimed his rifle at the leech on my arm. But Dad just stood there, watching Rehabhen feed on me with grim resignation.
He’d known this was coming.
He’d known, and he hadn’t warned me. Again.
“That’s enough. You’ve had your taste,” Dad said with a growl.
When Rehabhen didn’t immediately release me, my packmates closed in on her, weapons drawn.
Her teeth retracted, and she released my arm with a wet pop that turned my stomach.
Stumbling back, she wiped the back of her hand across her bloody mouth and looked me up and down with an appraising intensity that made my skin crawl.
Whatever she’d tasted in my blood, it had changed her demeanor entirely.
“The blood is acceptable. You may pass.”
The teeth marks on my arm started knitting back together immediately. Dad glared at Rehabhen before heading into the canyon.
Rehabhen stepped in his way, blocking the entrance with an outstretched hand. “Only her.”
“No,” Dad said. “Either we all go, or nobody goes. She stays with us.”
Rehabhen’s eyes narrowed. “You dare question the will of the Ancient?”
Dad folded his arms across his chest in a stubborn stance I was all too familiar with and stared her down. “All or nobody.”
I let out a breath as the biggest wave of relief that I’d ever experienced threatened to take my legs out from under me. Whatever occupied that canyon, at least I wouldn’t have to face it alone.
Rehabhen cocked her head to the side, listening to something we couldn’t hear. Surprise lit up her eyes, and she said, “You are lucky this day. The Ancient has decided to indulge your request.”
She vanished.
Rust immediately treated my wound, applying a salve that Sereana had sent with the alpha for this very occasion, confirming that Dad had known that creepy little creature would chomp on my arm.
He’d come prepared.
He’d also stepped in and made damn sure I didn’t have to do it alone, which should soften the sting of betrayal.
It didn’t.
Not that I expected my dad to protect me—if surrendering my life would save the pack, I would do my goddamn duty—but my father couldn’t find it in his heart to freaking warn me?
Yes, the alpha was leading a mission, and I didn’t rank high enough for the details, but hadn’t I proven myself at least a little by stealing the bloodstone?
Or by saving us from slavery at the hands of the fishmen?
Of course, the enemy had invaded my dreams and forced me to reveal our location, so maybe the less I knew, the better.
“There ya go,” Rust said, tying off my bandage before handing the jar of salve back to the alpha. “Fixed ya right up.”
I smiled and thanked him because that’s what obedient soldiers did.
But he was wrong. Nothing was better.
The truth had finally sunk its teeth in. Literally. I wasn’t here for my skills. Not for the heist I’d pulled off, the escape I’d engineered, or the years I’d spent training harder than wolves twice my size to prove I was more than my mother’s curse.
Dad hadn’t brought me for any of that.
I was on this mission for my blood. And the worst part wasn’t the betrayal.
It was that I should have known.