22. Deacon
Chapter 22
Deacon
I can’t fucking just sit by and watch her go, and Cade knows it. He’s seconds away from commanding her to stay to protect her. He could. Then she’d have no choice.
The other option is simply commanding Nathan to leave. But there’s no way, with a house full of humans, he would risk it getting out that, since having embraced The Leviathan, his gift has grown, and he could simply command Nathan. The power imbalance with Cade being able to command humans would scare them.
Standing in the snow, Cade catches a glimpse of me from his view out the front door.
My brother and I haven’t been close in a long time, but he understands what I’m telling him without question. I move out of sight of the small-dicked meathead taking Henri home and head over to the garage down by the gate. I ignore Marielle as she shouts something about cookies while I jog past her. Bud and Zachariah are hanging out in front of the doors. They wave but go back to whatever debate they’re having.
Making Henri stay against her will would make her resent us and drive a wedge between her and the pack. It’s what happened with her parents, but I can’t, I won’t, let her be separated from a pack that loves her.
Not taking away her power to make the decision to leave with him and save some face is the compromise she felt she needed. But my concern for her well-being doesn’t end at the front gate, and I can’t help but act on that concern.
Not like it’s a hardship to get out of Lunar New Year celebrations and playing nice with the press. While Kyle babbles on. No, this is better. Nathan is due for his date with death. If he tries to hurt her tonight, then he’ll be on the receiving end of the pain he’s inflicted on her in the past.
I grab the keys to one of Cade’s blacked-out SUVs. I’ve stalked Nathan in various cars we keep in the garage, but if this gets nasty, a fully equipped, tactical vehicle will be better than a vintage muscle car. Besides, be a shame to get road salt on a classic and risk rust in the time it takes for it to be warm enough to give it a bath.
From the safety of the garage, I watch the cars come down the hill. First Nathan’s and then Henri’s. They’re not driving together. It further proves my point that this won’t de-escalate while driving.
She can’t talk him down if they’re not in the same car. But it also leaves me with opportunities.
He could never make it home, my wolf offers.
The darkness inside me has already pushed the idea into my brain. It would be too easy for him to get into an ‘accident,’ and wouldn’t that be ‘a shame.’
Despite ample opportunities, I don’t run Nathan off the road, nor do I jump him at the gas station. But I follow, always watching. There are too many witnesses, and I don’t want to kill him in front of Henri if I don’t have to.
Thankfully, by the time we get to Nathan’s house, night has fallen, and there’s plenty of cover for me to lurk in the bushes, staying close if something goes badly.
Just end him now. My wolf demands. Quit wasting our time.
Henri needs to leave him. She needs to feel that power.
In the last month, on more than one occasion, I stopped myself midway on the hunt to kill Nathan. Henri’s pain that night at the Wisconsin house altered my brain, making me prone to rash decisions in the name of her safety. But there’s too much on the line for me to go off half-cocked. I could accidentally undo all of Cade’s work to improve the shifter image or, worse, implicate Henri in his death. Everything with Nathan’s death must be perfectly calculated. No mistakes.
Sitting outside the house, I close my eyes and focus on the sounds from inside. It’s nowhere near as soundproofed as the pack house, but most homes aren’t built for wolves.
One thing Henri was right about is that the car ride did de-escalate Nathan’s yelling and shouting.
“I’m so pissed off.” His voice is at regular speaking volume. “You fucking shifted where the entire world could see that you’re a wolf.”
“I am a wolf.” Henri is calm. “I shifted because I have to, it’s a rule. I made sure to not shift in view of everyone, but I needed to do my job.”
The end of her sentence slows, and guilt and shame blanket her words, enraging my wolf.
No one should make her ashamed of her wolf, he snarls, drawing memories of how beautiful she was trotting along the trail.
Henri is stunning, but I shut out memories of her for better focus .
“It’s like you’re one of them.” Nathan speaks over the sounds of cupboard doors opening and closing.
Cooking supplies moving, maybe?
“Nathan,” Henri says softly, “we talked about this. I am one of them. I’m a wolf, and I have to do wolf things.”
“You don’t go into heat. You take the pills. You can’t, I don’t know, take something to stop your wolf?” Nathan’s question is not out of curiosity.
“The heat pills are different. It’s like birth control. It’s just so that I don’t go into heat. It’s not like it’s doing anything other than stopping me from being miserable,” Henri explains.
More kitchen clanging sounds, and then a blender starts up.
Conversation is halted, and when the blender stops, Nathan speaks. “Well, come off the pills then. I won’t let you be miserable.”
“Nathan, it’s really bad. I don’t know that—”
“Are you saying I’m not man enough for it, Henri? That I’m not enough for you?” Nathan jumps in.
“Hello.” A woman’s voice pulls my attention away from their exchange.
Fuck. I turn to look, afraid I’ve been caught eavesdropping, but the voice belongs to an ancestor. She’s faint and so hollow I can see the streetlight from down the block through her form.
“Hi.” I give her a small wave and keep my voice down. “Sorry, I’ve gotta keep tabs on this.”
The woman steps through the foliage and sits on the ground facing me.
“Wolves aren’t all that great,” Nathan says, and I know I’ve missed something.
“Nathan is nowhere near as angry with her as he was with me,” the woman says, and now my curiosity is piqued .
Ancestors talk to me all the time, but very rarely is it something useful.
Keeping my voice low, I try to split my attention between the ancestor and the terse conversation in the house. “Tell me about him?”
“You know what you know. But what you don’t know is how I know he won’t kill her. Not here,” the ancestor starts. She brushes her hair out of her face, a nervous tick, and it’s a reminder that she’s not alive. It hurts my heart. “Nathan won’t kill her at home. He made a big deal out of this trip he took me on, a big week-long vacation. The promises that everything would be okay and that we would talk about us. We didn’t talk about us.”
A vacation? Like the one Henri says he has planned for her birthday? I didn’t think I could feel any more unpleasant emotions about this situation, but suspicion joins the party.
“Nathan killed you?” I ask softly, double-checking the information she’s giving me. Grief digs into my stomach.
Do I bust in there and take her away from here?
“I’m just saying, Henri, it’s a good way for you to prove that you love me.” Nathan raises his voice. “I’m going to game with the guys. Do whatever you want.”
The ancestor leaves me, fading into the house. I want to follow, but not being dead like her, I can’t.
Anger and panic flood my system.
They’re done fighting, but that doesn’t mean Henri is safe. I came here to make sure she didn’t get hurt. And now... Now I know it could be way worse.
A few minutes of silence pass, and I’m about to leave when she comes back and sits down. “They say it was an accident. That I died in a car accident. Which, I guess, isn’t wrong. I remember being put in the car. ”
“What did he do?” Whatever she says will make me furious. But I need to know.
The ancestor shakes her head, not wanting to talk about it.
It was insensitive to ask.
“Do you think I’ve some time before he tries it?” I don’t know how I can even ask her to predict that. How can I expect an ancestor who died by his hand to predict the rage? She did say that Nathan wouldn’t kill Henri here.
My fingers itch, and I debate calling Dinah and Ansel from right here. I would know for sure. Well, mostly for sure.
“Yes.” The ancestor nods. “I’ve been here, watching him and trying to warn her. You can convince her to leave. There’s still time.”
“What’s your name?” I keep my voice as quiet as I can.
“Grace,” she answers.
“He’ll suffer for hurting you too.” I promise her.
Staying low, I slink away from the house. I trust Grace. Maybe it’s misplaced, but ancestors are very rarely wrong about these sorts of things.
Tomorrow I’ll talk to Henri. She didn’t listen... care... react really when I told her Nathan was cheating. But tonight, I’ll comb through everything I can turn up on Grace. I don’t know if I’ll be able to prove that he killed her, but maybe I can make a compelling enough argument. People don’t respond well to ‘a ghost told me.’ Henri, having witnessed my gift firsthand, would be more accepting of the notion, but previous rejection of something so tied to my base person stings.
Then we’ll hunt him down and kill him? My wolf gets excited at the prospect.
Then we’ll hunt him down and get justice for Grace and retribution for Henri, I agree.
Sometimes it’s favorable to be a monster.