Grimm Wolf - Julie Steimle (fantasy novels to read .txt) 📗

Blanc asked in a slightly hushed voice.

Stepping forward again, facing the elders, Andy switched his sword to his left hand and lifted up his sun-scarred hand, allowing the light in it to flame up from the sun shaped brand in the center. It undoubtedly was searing hot due to the presence of so many werewolves in the room. “I am Andrew Bartholomew Cartwright, leader of this generation’s Holy Seven. Best and longtime friend of Howard Richard Deacon the Third, warrior for God.”

“Whose god?” the mocking voice of Theon called out.

“The true God,” Rick replied, glaring that way. 

The entire room of wolves murmured. Blasphemer. Hérétique. And yes, even infidel. But Rick grinned, standing next to Andy with pride.

“Why should I believe in any moon goddess,” said Rick, “when I know his God is real?”

More angry murmurs erupted, but Rick was not going to take it back. He was sick of the werewolf moon cult.

“What proof do you have of that?” someone else shouted out.

Rick gestured to Andy. “He’s proof.” He then leaned against Andy’s shoulder, feeling weak again.

Semour stepped back, looking to Remy and Henri to help. “I’d catch him but I can’t. I’m wearing silver.”

Henri caught Rick, and he with Remi helped him back to the wheelchair, or tried to. Rick resisted, calling up to the elders. “Do you rescind your judgement? Or am I still dying by death of a thousand bites?”

Without a word, the pack elders exchanged looks. Monsieur Blanc seemed winded, speechless. His eyes tracked Andy as if he were staring at an angel, as they could feel real power from Andy, perhaps realizing that maybe their goddess was nothing more than a whimsy—though Rick doubted it. Monsieur Mbulu finally said, “Considering the new evidence… that indeed this fight is not between the Loup Garou and the Deacon family, but between the Mosel Pack and you, we have decided to remain neutral in these matters. You are free to go.”

Rick breathed easily. He hugged Henri, then Remy and Louisa.

“And… if you have time,” Monsieur Mbulu added. “We would like renegotiate a deal with the Deacon family once more.”

Rick turned to nod in agreement but Andy cut in, saying: “Not this trip. My friend needs to come home and recover from his wounds.”

The pack elders regarded Andy carefully, then nodded. It was clear no one was going to cross him. Of course, Andy emanated power. They had a prickling feeling down their spines and the backs of their scalps that Andy could have set them and their building on fire, taking Rick and the three other Deacon wolves out without one hair on their hides singed. And Semour and Tom would have strolled out, unharmed.

Henri wheeled Rick out of the hall, followed by Louisa and Remy. They did not go in haste, but they did not hesitate to leave.

They went directly out of the building.

“Come with us now,” Rick said, as Semour ran ahead to their car which was parked on the curb, opening the doors for all.

Henri shook his head, sharing a look with Remy and Louisa.

“We can’t,” Remy said, gazing fondly at Rick. “This is our pack.”

“Oh, come on!” Rick protested, looking to Andy and Tom for help in this. “They could still change their minds and do something nasty to you guys—”

Louisa crouched down and kissed Rick on his forehead. “No, sweet boy. We have to stay.”

“But why?” Rick gazed desperately at them, his heart pounding hard within his chest.

Tears rolling down her cheeks, Louisa said, “We have to protect our children.”

All color washed out of Rick’s face. Of course. All of Henri’s and Louisa’s children had been distributed like chattel and raised by Loup Garou. But they had said they had no control over that. How many were there? And who were they? How could he help?

“I’ve been keeping track,” Remy said with a nod and a glance to his half-brother and half-sister, following Rick’s train of thought. “And so had Genevieve and Margarete. We will join you when we can, as soon as we can free them—if they want to come.”

“But honestly, we are not ready to be hunted yet,” Henri said.

Both Remy and Louisa looked to him, eyes wide with mortification.

“What?” Henri said, hands up, looking to them. “It’s the truth. He gets hunted every full moon. The Deacons are famously hunted. But no one in the outside world knows we exist. The Loup Garou protects us.”

Semour snuck a look with Andy who decided to stay out of the argument. He urged Rick into the car.

Rick closed his eyes, cringing. “Well, when you can, come. You know you are welcome. Dad will help.”

Remy nodded, tears in his eyes. He urged Rick into the car as he was still very weak, helping him strap on his seat belt. Then he shut the door. Tom eyed them as he walked to the other side of the car and slipped through the solid metal, much to their shock. When Tom sat next to Rick, he whispered, “They don’t want you to worry about them.”

Rick watched them as Semour steered the car into the road, taking their group away from what would have been certain death for Rick. “But I do worry. The Loup Garou are unscrupulous. I don’t think they are safe at all.”

“They’re not,” Semour murmured, keeping his eyes on the road. “But I don’t think those wolves will cross you just yet.”

Looking to the front of the car, watching Semour as he steered them along, Rick braced for the nasty truth. “Not yet? But you think the same as me. They will, right?”

Semour nodded. “Yeah… Those wolves are still stuck in shock and awe right now. But they will recover.”

“And they want some kind of deal with your family,” Tom said.

Rick rolled his eyes. “They want our money and they want me to breed with their she-wolves.”

Semour choked on a laugh. Andy grumbled, though Tom looked away. He clearly already knew.

“Have you told them about Daisy?” Andy muttered, almost snorting.

Rick colored. But everyone in the car knew about Daisy. He didn’t need to be as embarrassed. “They know.”

All those who could look back at Rick, did.

Shrugging as his face felt hotter, Rick said, “The summer right after I met Daisy, the Loup Garou sent some emissaries to a convention I was at. They figured it out pretty quickly without me telling them.”

“Oh wow.” Andy frowned. “What? Could they smell her on you?”

Rick colored more, wishing they would change the subject. His Daisy problem had become more of a thorn in his side rather than a happy prospect for a future mate. He was still angry with her for messing with Audry. 

“What if they knew about Audry?” Tom asked, following Rick’s naughty thoughts.

“Audry?” Andy perked up. He smiled. “You have a thing for Audry? As in Audry Bruchenhaus?”

Rick’s face went deep red now. He punched Tom in the arm. “That was not helpful.”

Tom cackled, glad he was being punched. It showed Rick was in a better mood.

“Jessica totally loves Audry,” Andy said, turning around in his seat. “You two should hook up.”

Rick vehemently shook his head. “No. No, no, no. We do not mess with Audry Bruchenhaus’s life.”

“But you like her,” Andy said, laughing.

“And I liked Jordan too! And look what happened to him!” Rick shouted, his face burned. So did his eyes, with tears.

The car went silent.

“We are NOT bringing Audry into my mess!” Rick said, each word hard. “I don’t want another person to die because of—”

Tom grabbed him, covering Rick’s mouth. His arms wrapped tight around him, holding him. “Ok.”

Andy stared forward again. He then looked to his armor-plated knees. With a glance to Semour who was keeping his eyes on the road, Andy said nothing.

What could be said? Rick’s greatest fear had come true on that trip. Another person died because of him.

It sucked to be a werewolf.

 

Survivors

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

 

After a quick stop at Semour’s Paris apartment, Rick put on some of Andy’s clothes, collected his cleaned-up passport and cell phone—both neatly cleared of honey with rubbing alcohol. Then he was rushed to the airport where his family’s gulfstream was fueling up to take him to England. Semour kept all the other stuff, promising to sanitize it all free of honey—or to burn it, depending on what was most efficient. Andy and Tom went with Rick on the trip, guarding him.

Rick did not see Emory or Rhett in London. Earlier that day, after his father had spoken with their parents, they had immediately requested for their sons to be removed back to the States. And Mr. Deacon II quickly obliged. So they were not there when Rick had arrived.  

The news of the attack on their group was all over social media. So far, only two survivors were known. The news of Rick’s survival and condition did not come until he had reached England—including the account of his near-to-jugular bite wound. And when it reached mainstream news, the tale hadn’t gotten too twisted or political—as Emory and Rhett themselves openly testified on camera (before getting taken into private care) that a psychopathic German had sic’d his pet wolves on them as a challenge to their wolf-loving friend H. Richard Deacon who had vigilantly tried to save them. Everyone one knew that one of Rick’s friends had been killed, and one other had to be fitted for a prosthetic leg because of how badly his leg had been chewed up and the damage from his tourniquet, which had cut off all blood flow to his lower limb. After two days, everyone knew that all four friends had been mauled by wolves in varying degrees.

So when Rick flew from England back to Massachusetts with Andy and Tom, they struggled in the airport to duck cameras while Tom insisted Rick not walk but be conveyed to his car in another wheelchair. It wasn’t that he couldn’t walk—it just killed to.

A thousand rumors and theories spread throughout the digital world over the incident. The werewolf connection, of course, was not ignored. All those conspiracy theorists had a go at what they thought had happened, from Rick failing to eat his friends to a more accurate account of Rick getting entangled in a foreign werewolf pack. But the more scientific and practical minded reporters bought the tale Emory and Rhett had given—the psychopathic German story. Though, one group claimed the incident occurred due to the Deacon family’s own foolish attempt to create a wolf reserve in Germany, claiming that was the real scandal and not some psycho crazy man who had slit a poor college guy’s throat.

The first thing Rick insisted once back in the US was to visit Jordan’s family to apologize. The second was to see Rhett and Emory. Both visits were private, and painful.

When he came to see Jordan’s family, he made sure Tom and Andy were with him. Jordan’s mother sobbed in Rick’s arms while he was unable to hold back tears, though he tried. He could not adequately express his deep grief for the loss of his good friend, or his deep regret for ever allowing them to stay in Cochem. And he took all the blame without admitting it was werewolves that had tried to eat their son. He knew the Hague family would not