Dark Lies (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 3)
Dark Lies: Chapter 29

Savannah

Sam and I pulled into the parking lot of Eclipse just after two.

My arm was still throbbing, and I was eager to get to a mirror. The tat had looked amazing at the shop, but I wanted to see it in the light of day.

Alana had wrapped it to keep it clean, but I could tell it had already almost fully healed. Being a werewolf was freaky but definitely had its perks.

Jaxson was out back with Tony and half a dozen other wolves. He broke off their conversation and approached as I parked my Gran Fury and got out. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine, but under wraps for the moment.” I hoped that he couldn’t tell how much his approval meant to me.

Jaxson nodded and led us to the back of the lot. “Good. We’re almost ready.”

“You dodged my question in the tattoo parlor. Where were you this morning? Not that I need to know, but…”

My words trailed off as his body grew tense and shadows crossed his face. He’d had the same reaction in the tattoo shop. Whatever errand he’d been on hadn’t been a pleasant experience.

I was ready to drop the subject, but Jaxson stopped and turned, the lines of his face grim and set. “I was visiting my father and checking into the legend of the Dark Wolf God and Dragan’s connection to it. Things are worse than I feared. Our pack has an old prophecy: Dragan will attempt a ritual of sacrifice on a moonless night, and if he succeeds, the Dark God will return in seven days and bring destruction to the world of the living.”

A cold wind blew across my skin, though the air was still.

“It’s new moon now,” Sam whispered.

Jaxson nodded. “We need to stop him. Tonight. My source said to do anything and everything in our power to destroy him.”

I swallowed hard. “Is everything ready? You had me waiting tables and running marathons instead of helping.”

He leaned close. “Yes. To clear your head after what happened. To show you who you are and what you’re a part of now. We’re going to need to rely on each other tonight. Guns and ammo are easy to get a hold of. Trust isn’t.”

I glanced at the wolves loading equipment into the trucks. Jaxson’s best people. Some I recognized, others I didn’t. All were ripped and lean and looked like professional killers.

My pack.

Jaxson cleared his throat and stepped close to Sam and me. “There’s more,” he whispered. “The prophecy said that Dragan would steal our wolves.”

Shit.

“When I spoke to Kahanov—I mean Dragan—in the Dreamlands, he asked for my wolf,” I hissed.

And you almost gave me to him, Wolfie snapped.

Guilt tore at me.

Jaxson tensed, but his voice was calm. “Don’t speak of this to anyone. Only the three of us know, and we need to keep it that way.”

Sam and I nodded, and Jaxson turned toward the trucks. “We’d better go.”

I followed after. “Well, I’m not sure it’ll help, but for what it’s worth, I did some investigating into Pere Cheney Cemetery while waiting for my appointment.”

Jaxson glanced back at me over his shoulder. “Learn anything useful?”

“Maybe?” I shrugged, unsure what could possibly count as useful, given that our plan was to disrupt a biker rally—but with magic places, you never knew.

“Pere Cheney was a ghost town that was wiped out in the eighteen-nineties by diphtheria or plague, or perhaps”—I allowed myself a little dramatic pause—“a witch’s curse. Legends say that her restless spirit still haunts the graveyard.”

He grunted. “Humans are barbaric. Most people hanged as witches were just young girls who spoke their minds or got pregnant.”

Slightly deflated, I said, “Yeah. The stories also say that, but it’s kind of less exciting and more depressing. Either way, the town’s gone, and the graveyard’s just an overgrown clearing in the middle of nowhere.”

Reaching the trucks, I lifted up the tarp to see stacks of guns and ammunition. It was a lot, though I guessed most of the team would be in wolf form. That was how we’d attacked Billy’s cabin.

At that moment, three black SUVs with tinted windows pulled into the lot. The werewolves pulled the tarp back over the weapons, and Tony slowly slipped a shotgun out of the back seat.

Jaxson stopped and waited as the lead SUV rolled to a halt.

Agent Harlow dropped out of the driver’s side with frustration boiling off her in waves. “Looks like you’re planning a party. Why wasn’t I invited?”

Jaxson’s face betrayed no emotion. “Because you’re not.”

She nodded to the all-too-suspicious tarp on the back of Jaxson’s truck. “I thought I told you three not go vigilante again. That we’d help you take down Grayling, or whatever he’s calling himself now.”

“Dragan,” I said.

Her sandy-haired partner, Max, and four other Order agents climbed out of the vehicles. I could practically taste the tension in the air.

With his hands stuffed in his pockets, Jaxson stepped up to the woman and glared down from his towering height. “The bikers are werewolves, making this werewolf business, or did you forget that? Moreover, you’re on pack land. Not Magic Side land, our land. So, I suggest you step back and settle down.”

She stood her ground, though I could smell her fear and mistrust.

Waves of tension rippled through the assembled wolves and agents. Hands were at hips, and claws were ready to spring out.

I think I’ve seen this movie, my wolf said. Spoiler: everyone dies.

Time to jump on the grenade, then.

“Harlow!” I shouted, and ran over, waving like I wasn’t walking into the middle of a showdown. “I’m so glad you decided to join us.”

I gave her the look and tried to will my thoughts into her brain. You want to play? You do it our way.

I could almost feel her resisting me, but I had a better understanding of my wolf mojo now, so I pushed—smiling broadly, with all the confidence I could muster.

“You called her?” Jaxson’s voice was low and smooth, but I could feel the fury beneath the surface.

I nodded, hoping the rest of the wolves wouldn’t be able to smell the lie if I didn’t speak it aloud. “The pack and Magic Side are in danger. You told me that we needed to do everything in our power to bring Dragan down. Well, luckily, Harlow has agreed to provide Order support for our operation. We’ll coordinate. That way, we won’t get in each other’s way.”

Harlow studied my expression. This was clearly not how she’d planned this encounter to go. I pled with my eyes. I’m offering an olive branch, here. Take it. He’s not going to give you a better offer.

At last, she backed down just slightly, and her shoulders relaxed. “Yes, the Order is willing to coordinate our operation with the pack. But the stipulation is no casualties. Our goal is to bring Grayling in without a bloodbath like there was at the upper Michigan cabin.”

Jaxson tightened his fists. I knew the Order was pissed over the gunfight at Billy’s place, but this wasn’t the time to poke the bear.

I gave Harlow an Are you kidding me? glare, then turned to Jaxson, eyes pleading. We couldn’t communicate as we did in wolf form, but I hoped he could read my expression. We need all the help we can get. I’m offering everyone a chance to save face.

His jaw ticked, and his eyes dilated in a way that said, We’re going to discuss this chain of events.

But finally, he crossed his arms and turned back to the waiting agent. “We’ll be calling the shots. This isn’t just a manhunt. We think Dragan is attempting to summon a god from werewolf legends who’s a direct threat to the pack.”

Harlow pulled off her sunglasses. “Wait a minute. What do you mean?”

“The bikers are going to do a ritual to summon one of the gods of werewolf lore. We think there’ll be sacrifices,” he said, his voice low but strained with anger.

She tucked the shades in the top of her shirt and gave Jaxson a hard look. “All the more reason not to go in claws out and guns blazing.”

Jaxson grunted. “You have a better idea? We can’t risk failure, no matter the cost.”

She unhooked a small cannister clipped to her hip and held it out for us to see. “We have access to riot guns and sleeping potions. If they won’t come quietly, we gas them and knock down the stragglers.”

Jaxson jammed his hands in his pockets and gave a low laugh. “It won’t be so simple. Unless your potions are super-concentrated, werewolves will shake off the effects in seconds. And as soon as they scent you, they’ll either attack or flee.”

Harlow flipped the canister around. It had a yellow label with silhouettes of what I assumed were some kind of goblin, orc, ogre, giant, and a dragon. The ogre was marked with a red X. Above it, the label read High Potency and had tons of warnings.

Damn, this was industrial stuff.

She smiled and clipped it to her belt. “We have sleeping gas canisters capable of knocking out ogres. Shifters should be no problem. Moreover, it’s my understanding that this entity you call Dragan is possessing Lucius Grayling, potentially against his will. We don’t know whether Grayling is culpable for this mess, so we need to make sure to take him alive.”

If things were as bad as Jaxson said, then we could really use their help. I held my breath and looked from one to the other. Please put down your egos and work this shit out!

Jaxson glanced at me, and as if reading my mind, he ground his teeth and turned back to Harlow. “Here’s the deal: I’m calling the shots. We’ll go with sleeping gas like you suggest, but if that doesn’t work, we’re taking those pricks down by any means necessary. The safety of our pack is at stake here, and I will not risk letting the ritual succeed.”

After a moment, Harlow nodded. “I want to know more about what’s at stake and what we can expect, but we agree.”

In Michigan, the rogue wolves had gassed us with wolfsbane. We were turning the tables.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t banish the images of that battle from my mind. I shuddered, recalling how horrifically it had played out.

We had to learn from our mistakes.

I licked my lips and placed my hand on Jaxson’s arm. “When we attacked the rogue wolves at the cabin, their leader tried to escape down the back roads. The MC will have bikes and might try to pull a similar trick. We can’t let them get away.”

Harlow nodded. “Good point. We’ll need to set up roadblocks at all access points.”

Jaxson shook his head. “It’s not enough. They’re wolves—they’ll just ditch their bikes and run through the trees. They’ll overrun and outrun you, particularly if they have any Scarlet left. We’ll need to surround them.”

Annoyance still vibrated beneath his words, but his scent had changed. He was no longer resisting the idea, just solving the problem.

I let a faint sigh of relief escape my lungs.

“Can your pack secure a perimeter and subdue them without killing anyone?” Harlow asked.

He shrugged. “Sure, but if the bikers resort to lethal force, then I’m not going to have my pack members fight with their claws tied behind their backs.”

After a long pause, she nodded. “Stop the ritual. Rescue the prisoners. Arrest the person calling himself Dragan.”

Jaxson gave me a subtle nod and held out his hand to Harlow. “Welcome aboard.”

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