Chapter 36 Thane
Thane
“Trace her the fuck out of here,” he growled when Ditch and Jastorgh approached him in the godsdamned Helter.
Thane had been tracking the thin curl of smoke on a far peak, a hunter’s scent for a sorceress’s lair. Now he had company tromping after him like this was a park stroll.
He caught the smirk tugging at Ditch’s mouth, and something in him jolted. Memories of the night before slammed into him. He’d once told Lowell there were no problems. Suddenly he drowned in them.
“She paid for a ride,” Jastorgh said. “I delivered the ride.”
Through the red mist rising from the Firis, Thane skimmed the tree line, ears pricked. Movement. Closing in.
Alone, he could get ahead of a threat, cutting through this dark forest, but not with his mate in tow. And off the Mount, he didn’t know what tricks she’d use—whether she could peel his thoughts apart like silk. “Then take us both back.” Thane would return another night.
Ditch told Jastorgh, “I’ll stay, thank you.”
The demon shrugged, wings rustling. “You heard the high priestess.”
Thane’s Instinct roared: —Away from here. Now.— “I’ve dealt with you for centuries,” he snapped at Jastorgh. “She’s been in the Skein five minutes, and you’re taking orders from her?”
“She offered money. I am a transportation contractor.”
“No’ for long. And it’s worse than transport. You bloody showed her where I’d be.”
“Just doing my part to reunite mates. Consider me Cupid.”
“I’ve met Cupid,” Ditch said, flicking him a wicked look. “Don’t sell yourself short, love.”
Her flirting landed like a spark atop dry kindling. Thane’s eyes narrowed on Jastorgh. “So that’s it—you’re loyal because she’s demonkin.”
Ditch laughed. “If he were loyal, he wouldn’t have traced me here at all. The thrill of the demonic deal motivated this one, I assure you.”
A wet, collective groan rolled from the deeper woods. Jastorgh went still.
“Ghouls?” Ditch asked, far too mildly.
The troop hadn’t scented the intruders yet. Hundreds of them slunk through these sultry woodlands, and more would always come.
“Last chance, beautiful,” Jastorgh said, uneasy. “Come with me.”
“I’ll remain until I summon you. I like this place.” She lifted her face to a shaft of reddened moonlight and inhaled as the river’s fumes crept along her skin. “Feels freeing.”
Freeing? “She canna hear the ghouls. She does no’ know!”
Jastorgh lifted a helpless hand. “I can’t force her to go.”
“You fucking can!” Thane growled. He reached for the gold coin in his pocket—bait enough for most demons—but Jastorgh vanished.
“Godsdamn it.” I’ll kill that motherfucker. He turned on Ditch. “Why risk this? Do you value your life so little?”
“I’m meant to be here with you on the eve.” She let her claws drift through mist, smiling as the red swirled around her fingers. “I’ve never seen fog so ominous. No wonder everyone gets spooked by this charming place.”
Charming? More like hellish. The woods looked as though they had grown in a northern forest, yet the air pressed thick and stifling, like the breath of the hottest jungle. Char and sulfur clung to everything, the River of Hell pouring out relentless heat. And beneath it all, something stirred.
Ghouls moaned again. Closer.
Thane carved Jastorgh’s sigils in the dirt with his sword tip—
“Ah-ah.” Ditch toed them away. “I’ll watch your back tonight.”
He cursed in Gaelic. Then her words sank in. “Watch my back? Have you a care for me as well?”
“No.”
He scowled, mostly at himself. After one night with her, he’d let hope get teeth.
“I care that Straegan doesn’t inherit your throne,” she said. “And I need to know you aren’t seeking a witch who’ll force me to love you.”
He couldn’t hide his interest. “Does such an ability exist?”
“Rare, but yes.” She slid him a look. “Would you use such a spell on me?”
He stepped closer until they were toe-to-toe. “I’ll no’ do anything to you that you doona want me to.” His gaze traced the line of her throat as she swallowed, the sensuous flick of her tail. “And I doona need to. You’re feeling a pull toward me. Last night was only a taste.”
Her lips curled. “Said the Hungry One.”
“Leave with me now, and I’ll demonstrate my appetites once more.” Every inch of her needed further exploration.
“Tempting, but I’m more concerned with what you’re doing here.”
When he hesitated to reveal his mission, her eyes flickered with magic. The grass green of her irises turned to demonic black, a dark canvas for moonlight.
“Using your power on me already?”
“I wasn’t. Now I’m tempted.”
He couldn’t compel her to go, couldn’t command her to stop. So he grasped for patience and said, “I’m asking you no’ to.”
She drew her head back with confusion. “What about me has given you the idea that I respect boundaries in any way?”
“Considering my arse was sore this morning, no’ a damn thing.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t love it—”
He held up his free hand to stop her. “We’ll discuss later. For now, I’ll reveal what I’m doing here if you give me your word that you will no’ use your abilities on me.”
“Why would I do that?”
“You told me to be wary should we meet off the Mount. I am. And if I canna concentrate, then our odds of getting out of the bloody Helter alive just cratered. If you want to know my deepest, darkest desires, then woman up and fucking ask me.”
After a pause, her gaze greened. “Okay.”
He angled his head, a wolf sensing a trap. “Just like that?”
“I’m feeling generous, so I won’t use my magic on you. But I must know why you’ve come to this refreshing locale.” She inhaled the mist. “Ah, undercurrents of brimstone. I go all tingly.”
“If you’re feeling generous, accept that danger exists here and leave. Or I will.”
“Stop saying leave.” Her tail flicked with irritation. He watched it dance behind her, his love-hate feelings for it magnified.
Was he actually going to take her along? On his own, he could make the sorceress’s lair in minutes. With Ditch? An hour.
He should carry her out. Instead, he grudgingly sheathed his blade and started into the fog. “You’ll drive me madder than the moon before all this is through.”
“Absolutely,” she said, delighted, falling into step. “Your lips to Hecate’s ears.” She rubbed her hands together and asked, “So what mischief are we getting into tonight?”
“The Queen of Questions,” he said. “A sorceress who answers anything. For a price. And she demands supplicants arrive alone.” Understandable. Not everyone would be a fan of a pack showing up at one’s doorstep.
“I’m sure she’ll tolerate a neutral colleague,” Ditch said, and he hoped she was right. “What do you know about Sorceri?”
“Enough.” Masks and madness, gold and gleam—he’d heard the stories.
“I’m curious to meet her,” Ditch mused. “How do you think she survives out here?”
“No idea. I do assume she’s dangerous. Yet more reason for you to return home.”
“You assume I am not dangerous?”
“Are you? Then tell me what your powers are.”
“Maybe I’ll show you if the time comes. You haven’t bragged about your skill with a sword, but I’m sure you’d demonstrate it. Of course you did hint in a spicy letter that you have a talented tongue. That bore out.”
His head swam from the memory of her taste, emblazoned on his mind forever. Grappling for control, he pointed in the distance and said, “I believe she’s on that mount.”
“I can’t see through this film.” Ditch squinted. “I have demon blood yet no demon sight. Only demonic appetites.”
He whistled low at that, and his cock hardened even more. “I recall.” He’d come in her mouth until his brain had melted, but he’d craved a repeat as soon as she’d left him. “Still will no’ tell me what demon breed you are? There’s a hundred species with a tail like yours.”
She only shrugged. “I do envy a wolf’s senses. And physical strength as well. You must envy a witch’s magic.”
“No’ really. In our pack, we hear about the disasters. Wishes backfiring. Curses catching the caster.” He shook his head. “Unnatural.”
“And yet you seek a sorceress’s help? A queen no less! What question will you ask? How to feed your people through the winter or how to dominate all the other factions?”
He paused and met Ditch’s gaze through the haze. “How I can be with you.”
“You came here to ask that? I thought you’d accepted that we’re impossible.”
“I had,” he said. “Until last night. You want me. I can work with that. Understand me, demon-witch. I’m willing to do much for a life with you.” Whatever it took—up to a point. “But I’m also scouting game. If winter fangs hard, I plan to share Craigdúr’s take with your coven.”
“Hmm. Like the herd of cattle that didn’t materialize for your mate today?”
He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “I dinna want to announce our connection to others. Your coven already hates you. You lied about the strength of your political hold.”
“Yes, I lie all the time—”
A deeper chorus of groans rolled.
Even Ditch’s head lifted. “All right, I heard that. Ghouls?”
“Aye. Hundreds. I intended to skirt them.”
“Why not cut through them with your sword? I heard that you are heedless in battle, often running into the fray with your beast half risen.”
“Heedless?” He scoffed. “Try courageous and menacing. For now, with you in tow, I want to avoid the ghouls because of logistics. Their spilled blood gels into glue, and their severed limbs stack like barricades. Think fighting in quicksand with obstacles mounting. And I will need to keep you safe from a scratch at the same time!”
“You’ve obviously gone up against such a number before.”
“Long ago, some villain traced a ghoul to Craigdúr. One turned dozens, overrunning us. We had to put them down.” After a beat, he admitted, “My father among them.”
Ditch’s voice grew softer. “So the sound of those ghouls must bring back memories.”
He nodded gravely. “If we canna avoid them, I take the hits,” he said. “Do no’ let them near you. All it takes is a single contact with their claws or fangs.”
“I’ll gladly let you take the hits,” she said dryly. “But if you fall, I face your brother next. You described ghouls overrunning you. If Straegan rules, your pack becomes the plague. Only we won’t have a river of fire to imprison wolves.”
He couldn’t deny it. “If anything happens to me—tonight or ever—you return to Akelarre at once. Straegan will target you because you’re mine. Truth be told, I fear for you staying in the Skein at all. If he escapes, he’ll tear a witch like you apart.” He’d done it before.
“Then end his threat forever,” she said, bright as a blade. “A little murder between brothers goes a long way.”
Predicting the dangers he would face in the Helter, Thane had descended into the dungeon earlier with that exact grim intent. Straegan had gazed at him with his lips drawn back from his fangs, his eyes blue with menace, knowing why his older brother, once beloved, had come for him.
As Thane’s hand had descended to his weapon and his heart had been rent in two, his Instinct had warned: —Blood.—
He’d heard that warning once before and had ignored it. This time he couldn’t…
Now he said, “He’s committed no crime against the pack, and my Instinct forbids it.” No, Thane couldn’t kill him. But Lowell could.
Thane’s last instructions to his right hand—If I doona return, take control of the kingdom, execute Straegan, and protect Ditch with your life—would theoretically take care of this threat, yet plans often went awry.
“What broke Straegan?” she asked.
Thane had known this would come up. He wouldn’t lie to his mate, but the truth could pitch the witches and the Lykae straight into war.
For a millennium, the pack had obscured Straegan’s past crime, enlisting nymphs to spread distorting rumors. “I suspect a sorceress,” he said at last. “A spell.”
Not a lie. Some incomprehensible force must’ve governed Straegan. He hadn’t been born evil; he and Thane had once been boon companions, would’ve died for each other. Now Straegan had been left twisted.
Yet more reason to despise magic.
Ditch frowned. “You suspect a sorceress, and yet you’re on your way to meet another of her kind.”
“Aye.” Had Straegan done something to attract a Sorceri’s attention? If so, was history about to repeat itself?
A shriek razored through the fog. Thane raised his sword.
“That sounded like a wendigo,” she said.
“And what do you know of them?”
“Corpse eaters. Highly contagious.” She rolled a shoulder. “I’m a fan of Lore.”
Her shrug made him wonder for the thousandth time what powers she possessed. Either they were monumental, or she had a death wish.
“Revenants also live here,” she went on, casual as gossip. “Ajatars and neoptera and a whole bestiary of monsters.”
“Could you act more unconcerned about that fact?”
“Ah, Thane, how human you sound. Don’t you see? We’re all monsters here in the Skein. Just with different goals.”
“I’ll never believe that,” he said and hated that she did.
“You toy with something far worse than ghouls. What do you think this sorceress will do to you? At best, her answer will necessitate that one or both of us changes radically. Are you ready for that?”
“I’ll do what I must,” he said.
A beat.
“Up to a point.”