Code of the Wolf (23 page)

The world around her disappeared. She was seventeen again, but this time she knew they were coming. This time she was ready to fight.

Ready to kill.

She picked up her skirts and ran for the barn. The horses snorted in alarm as she plunged through the door and climbed to the hayloft where she knew she would find the weapons she needed.

In the grip of blind instinct, Serenity buckled on
her gun belt and snatched up her rifle. She found the box of bullets and loaded both weapons, then rushed outside. She ran back the way she had come, turning toward the trees when she was well clear of the settlement.

If she had been thinking at all, she would have known that she was unlikely to find the intruder in the dark, moonlight or not. But as unlikely as it was, she saw him when she came within a dozen yards of the trees, crouched close to the ground and moving ever nearer to the houses.

A face turned toward her, blurred by shadow and distance. She had seen that face in hell, grinning like Satan himself, laughing at her pathetic attempts to protect herself. Jeering and taunting her, never letting her forget how her parents and Levi had been so mercilessly slaughtered. How she had been permitted to live for one reason only.

She lifted the rifle to her shoulder.

“Stop!” she shouted. “Stay where you are, or I'll kill you!”

The man straightened and lifted his hands. “Serenity,” he said. “Go ba—”

She fired. She heard a grunt of pain, and the intruder dropped. Serenity's heart slammed in her chest, and a wash of dizziness nearly swept her to her knees. She fought to keep her balance and staggered toward the outlaw, eager to see that vile, ugly face as his blood ebbed and he realized who had taken it from him.

That was when the other man appeared, a gun in his hand, and stood over her victim. He looked at Serenity, and she glimpsed the flash of white teeth.

“I owe you a debt, ma'am,” he said, touching the brim of his hat. “You saved me a heap of trouble.”

“Perry,” she whispered.

“Never thought you'd see me again, I reckon.” He glanced down at the man at his feet. “Neither did Constantine. He didn't know me as well as he thought he did.”

She followed Perry's gaze to the body. Horror, bitter as nightshade, robbed Serenity of her ability to speak.

She had shot Jacob.

“At least you didn't kill him,” Perry said. “I plan to save that privilege for myself.”

“No,” Serenity whispered, finding her voice again. “It was a mistake.”

“You must be crazy to defend a freak of nature like him,” Perry said, contempt drenching every word. “What kind of female are you? Did you let this
thing
into your body?”

Serenity lifted the rifle again and aimed at Perry's chest. “Put down your gun.”

“I don't think so. I've got other business here once this animal's dead. I think these people will see reason when I explain about the murderer sheltering with 'em.”

“My people will never let you have Victoria,” she said. “And you won't be killing anyone.”

“I wouldn't like to hurt a woman, but if you don't drop that rifle—”

The body at Perry's feet erupted out of the grass, lunging for Perry's legs in a blur of motion. But Jacob was weak, and Perry stumbled away in time to escape
his clawing hands. Perry braced himself on the trunk of the nearest tree and took careful aim at Jacob's head.

He never pulled the trigger. Serenity shot him, and he slumped against the tree. She dropped the rifle and fell to her knees.

“Serenity,” Jacob croaked.

Still alive.
She began to crawl toward him, dragging her skirts behind her.

Jacob was on his side, his right shoulder and chest smeared with terrifying quantities of blood that obscured most of his shirt and the wound itself. The deadly wound
she
had given him.

He lifted his head as she reached him, his eyes mere slits and his face taut with pain. “Serenity,” he said. “I…need your help.”

She crouched before him, lifting her hands helplessly, trying to think of what to do. The bullet would have to come out, and they would need rags to stop the bleeding and bind the wound. But if she left him even long enough to find help…

“I'm dying,” he whispered. “Help me…undress.”

Serenity knew he must be mad with pain. She ignored him and began to tear at her petticoats, struggling to rip the heavy cotton.

A bloodied hand settled on her arm. “I can…heal myself,” he said. “I need…clothes off.”

All at once she understood him. He meant to Change, and somehow that was going to heal him. But removing his clothing would only increase his bleeding, possibly enough to kill him.

“Trust me,” Jacob said, his voice beginning to fade. He sank back, his breath rattling in his throat.

Serenity wasted no more time. She crawled closer and began to remove his boots, knowing she had to be fast as well as careful. Jacob groaned under his breath when she unbuttoned his shirt and tried to pull it over his shoulders. In the end she had to rip it to pieces with her bare hands, tearing her nails and hurting Jacob again. Grimly holding back her tears, she unbuttoned his trousers and tugged them off his legs.

The moment he was free of his clothes, Jacob shuddered and twisted as if he was caught in the grip of an agony Serenity couldn't begin to comprehend. Blood gushed from his wound, staining the ground beneath him crimson and emblazoning his skin like war paint. He shouted, a sound more howl than anything human, and the lines of his body grew blurred like a smudged charcoal drawing. Serenity glimpsed dark fur fused with pale human flesh.

Jacob scrabbled at the dirt with hands turned to paws. His face stretched, and his bared teeth glistened pointed and white. For agonizing moments he seemed to hover somewhere between man and beast, unable to complete the transition, dying a little more with every breath he took.

Serenity grabbed at him, holding on to any part of him her hands touched. It was like trying to capture mist, but she didn't let go.

“Don't give up,” she whispered, praying silently as she spoke. “I won't lose you.” She dug her fingertips into flesh and fur. “I love you.”

It might not have been the words that gave him strength. He might not have heard them at all. But suddenly Jacob convulsed, arched his back and cried out.
The air around him shimmered, and then he was a wolf, big and black, scrambling to his feet.

The big head swung toward her. Jacob's eyes held hers, full of emotion even his animal nature couldn't conceal. He was whole, and alive, and the most beautiful creature she had ever seen.

She rose up on her knees and held out her arms, falling against his side and spearing her fingers through his thick coat. Her tears shimmered on his fur like tiny jewels.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “I'm so sorry.”

He nuzzled her hair and whined.

She drew back and took his broad head between her hands. “It will never happen again,” she said. “I will never—”

A chill stole her breath. How could she have forgotten Perry? She had assumed he was incapable of attacking again, but if she were wrong…

She pulled herself to her feet, leaning heavily on Jacob's massive shoulder. He tried to block her way, but she stepped around him. Perry lay propped against the trunk of the oak, his vest and shirt as red as Jacob's, his eyes staring and empty. Serenity reeled.
She
had done this. She had taken a life. All these years she had dreamed of shooting down the animals who had destroyed her world, but she had never imagined it like this…the waxy skin, the gaping mouth, the blood, the living spirit gone forever.

“Don't look at him,” Jacob said behind her, human again.

It would have been so easy to obey him, but she wasn't going to run away from what she'd done. For
her sake, Jacob had tried to take the burden of responsibility for Leroy's death. She wouldn't let him do it again.

“I almost killed you because I thought you were my enemy,” she whispered, her body breaking into shivers of reaction.

“But you didn't.” His hand settled on her shoulder, fingers squeezing gently. “I'm all right. Not a mark on me.”

“If you hadn't been able to Change, you would have died. Wouldn't you?”

“The Change heals about every kind of wound, as long as you're strong enough to make the transformation.”

Jacob had been strong enough. This time. How often had it happened before? When he'd healed so quickly at the ranch, before she'd even known he wasn't human? Did werewolves have nine lives, like cats?

If they had, she'd just taken one of Jacob's. And a man lay dead at her feet because she had made one too many mistakes.

“I warned him to stay clear,” Jacob said, cupping his hand around her neck. “I misjudged him, and I'm sorry you had to be the one to stop him. I would have spared you that.”

She closed her eyes. “If I hadn't been so blind with hate, this wouldn't have happened. After I left you and Virgil, I thought I saw one of the men who killed my parents, but it was Perry.”

Jacob walked around her, coming to stand between her and the body. “Perry could have been one of them. He was willing to go pretty far to get his prey. It doesn't
take much for a man to turn from what he was into a murderer.”

She turned her back on Jacob, unable to meet his gaze. “It didn't take much for me to turn into a murderer. First Leroy, now—”

He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. “You saved my life,” he said harshly. “You protected your friend and God knows who else from a man who refused to back down. You had no choice.”

Perhaps not tonight. But from now on—tomorrow and the next day and the next—there would be new choices. Hard ones. And she could not put them off much longer.

“Jacob,” she began, but he wasn't listening.

A growl rumbled in his throat. Virgil was running from the direction of the road, his face a pale blur. As soon as he was close enough to see Serenity and Jacob, his feet stuttered to an awkward halt.

“Serenity? I thought I…” He stared at Jacob's nakedness, then at Serenity. “What has thee done?”

S
HE KNEW VIRGIL WASN'T
referring to Perry's body, which he hadn't yet seen, but to Jacob's. Whatever he planned to say next was forestalled by the arrival of several people from the settlement. Zora was in the lead, running with all the grace and intensity of a wolf on the hunt. Caridad and Victoria were behind her, followed by Uncle Lester and William Burns.

Zora took in the situation immediately, her night-seeing eyes quick to pick out the body and the blood splashed across grass, earth and tree.

“Perry,” she said.

Caridad skidded up beside her.

“Chingados,”
she spat. “I knew he would not give up!”

The Quakers followed her gaze, and Serenity saw them stiffen with horror.

“Who is this man?” Lester stammered, no longer the jovial, affectionate uncle he had been at supper. “Is he—?”

“He is dead,” Serenity said, stepping forward. Jacob tried to hold her back, but she broke free and met Lester's gaze steadily.

“This man,” she said, “was a bounty hunter who intended harm to one of my friends and would have stopped at nothing to take her captive, including killing
anyone who stood in his way. He tried to kill Jacob, so I…” She swallowed and lifted her chin. “I shot him.”

Lester and William exchanged shocked glances. “Where did thee get a weapon?” Lester asked.

“We had them when we came here,” Jacob said. “We just kept them out of sight, in the barn. We figured you'd want it that way.”

“Because thee wanted to hide what thee are,” Virgil snarled. “But we know thee are no simple cowhand.”

“I don't deny it,” Jacob said. “I follow the same profession as the dead man, but I hold to the law.”

“Killing is the law of Satan,” Virgil said. He turned to Serenity. “Did thee recognize this man when thee shot him?”

“She saw someone with a gun sneaking toward your homestead,” Jacob said. “I'd been stalking him myself just before she got here.”

“Unclothed?” Lester asked in disbelief.

“Less noise that way,” Jacob said. “But he saw me, and tried to kill me.” He moved up so close to Serenity that she could feel his hot breath on her neck. “She saved my life.”

Only after nearly killing him,
Serenity thought. But telling the whole story would only make things worse.

Though as far as her fellow Quakers were concerned, it could hardly be any worse. “Thee knows our ways,” Lester said to Serenity. “If thee had come to us instead of choosing violence—”

“What would you have done?” Jacob said. It was the same question he'd asked of Virgil at dinner, and it was no less stinging now. “This man would have killed you as soon as look at you.”

“We cannot sanction violence here, even at the cost of our own lives.”

“Jacob isn't bound by our…by the beliefs of the Friends,” Serenity said. “He should not have to give up his own life for those beliefs. And I wouldn't let him.”

The elder Quakers were obviously struggling for something to say, but Virgil was not so reticent. He stared at Jacob with undisguised hatred.

“It is you who have brought this evil here,” he said.

“No,” Victoria said. “He was after
me.
I was accused of—” She broke off, and then continued bravely. “I killed my husband.”

“In self-defense,” Caridad said. “Her husband beat her. Perry would have taken her back to be hanged by men who knew nothing of what she suffered.”

Serenity knew what the Friends would say to that. They would deeply sympathize and mourn for Victoria's plight, but they would never condone what she had done under any circumstances.

“None of you should have come,” Virgil said, his mouth twisted in a bitter sneer. “Serenity would have had some chance of salvation if you had not brought your outsider ways. Now she is as damned as all the rest of you.”

“Virgil Thompson,” Lester said. “Be silent.” He looked at Serenity with deep sadness. “Has thee truly forgotten everything thee learned here, child? Has thee fallen so far?”

Heedless of his nakedness, Jacob imposed himself between them. “Serenity's family died because of your rules,” he said. “They would have died even if you'd
been here, along with the rest of you. I just hope nothing like that ever comes your way again.”

“It would make no difference,” Lester said, his face drawn with sadness. “We would stand by our principles and the teachings of our Lord.”

“And do your principles allow for taking Serenity back after what she's done?”

“Jacob,” Serenity began, “I don't—”

“There is always forgiveness with sincere repentance,” Lester said, echoing the words Virgil had spoken so short a time earlier. “With prayer and guidance, there is always hope. But in light of what thee has told us, Jacob Constantine, I believe thy influence to be harmful. Thee is unlikely to renounce thy ways. Serenity cannot achieve peace in thy continued presence.”

“But I'm not staying,” Serenity said. “You expect me to choose between my friends and your world. But I left this world long ago and can never return.”

In spite of all he had said, Lester seemed genuinely stricken by her words. “Does thee know what thee is saying, child? Would thee forever turn thy back on those who love thee?”

“I came for my aunt's sake. I would stay to tend her if you could accept my presence, but I would only be a blot on her peace. I am sorry, Uncle.”

“Sorry?” Virgil spat. “I offered thee honorable and lawful marriage, a life of honest work and devotion, and thee chooses this man who will lead thee to damnation?”

“Yes,” she said. “I choose Jacob.”

Though she could see only a little of Jacob's face, she glimpsed his grim expression when he glanced at her
over his shoulder. Had he heard her when she'd said “I love you,” or had his nearness to death made him deaf to her pleas? Did he assume her declaration had only been that of a woman desperate to save a friend's life, and that her choice now was simply a means of defying her family?

If they had been alone, would he have reminded her just how deep was the chasm she was attempting to cross?

Spinning on his heel, Virgil strode away. Uncle Lester and William bowed their heads.

“We can do nothing more,” Lester said. “Thy aunt will be deeply grieved.”

Guilt and rending sadness thickened Serenity's voice. “If you…if you will permit it, I would see her one more time.”

Lester considered for a dozen painful seconds and then lifted his head. “Come to the house in the morning. Elizabeth will return thy clothing, and thee may see Martha to make thy farewells. We will think of some reason to explain the necessity of thy going.” He glanced at William. “We must see to the burial of this man. Will thee wait here while I gather the other men?”

“That won't be necessary,” Jacob said. “I'll bury him here. You can say your words over him once I'm done.”

Serenity expected Lester to argue, but he only looked one last time at Serenity, his eyes brimming with tears, and then, with William beside him, started back for the settlement.

Jacob was already speaking to Caridad when Serenity rejoined him. “I don't think we'll be wanted in
Tolerance tonight,” he said with heavy irony. “Can you get our gear and horses? We'll make camp where the river makes that big bend about a quarter mile west of here.” He paused. “I think Serenity needs a little more time to herself.”

Obviously relieved at having something to do, Caridad headed for Tolerance. Zora lingered, glancing between Serenity and Jacob.

Serenity wondered how long the other woman had known just how she felt about him. Longer, Serenity guessed, than she had herself. Even Frances had sensed it, back at Avalon.

After a moment Zora left, and only Victoria remained.

“I'm so sorry,” she said. She covered her face with her hands. “This is all my fault.”

“Don't be foolish,” Serenity said, pulling Victoria into her arms. “We would never have let him take you. Jacob would have stopped him if I hadn't…if I hadn't shot him first.”

“But you wouldn't have had to if I'd gone with Perry.”

“That's enough.” Serenity released Victoria and pushed up her friend's chin. “It's over now. Go help Caridad and Zora.”

Victoria scrubbed at her face and turned away, her big frame bent with grief.

Serenity's heart ached for her, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Jacob's words of comfort had done nothing to ease her own sickness at what had happened.

What must never happen again.

“Serenity.”

Jacob's voice was gentle, but she dreaded what he might be about to say. “I'm all right,” she said quickly.

“That pasty-faced, mealymouthed son of a bitch,” Jacob growled. “For two bits I'd have laid him out right where he stood. Hell, it was hard just to keep from telling that uncle of yours what I thought of his pious hog-wash.”

“Thank God you didn't.”

“I don't see what God has to do with any of this. Your kin turned their back on you for trying to protect them from what happened to your ma and pa.”

“But I wasn't really protecting them. The man I imagined I saw…the one I thought I shot…that wasn't Perry, much less you.”

“One of the Reniers,” he muttered.

“Yes.” She closed her eyes. “I was a little crazy, Jacob. But that doesn't excuse—”

“I would have done exactly what you did.”

“You said you wouldn't kill them when we found them,” she said. “You were going to see they faced justice under the law.”

“I'm not so sure anymore.”

Not sure, when she had become so sure herself?

She turned to face him. “Your devotion to the law is what sets you apart,” she said quietly. “It makes you better. Don't ever think of giving it up.”

He touched her cheek with a fingertip. “It's good I have you around to remind me. Maybe I'm going to need more reminding from now on.”

Serenity forgot to breathe. Were his words careless
rhetoric, or was he acknowledging what she'd said to Jacob, making a declaration of his own?

Was he saying
I choose you?

Don't,
she told herself.
Don't think.

“Perry,” she said, forcing herself to remember the body still lying under the tree. “We should look after him. At least he deserves a decent burial.”

Jacob blinked, caught off guard by her abrupt change of subject. “Are you sure you want to help?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

“Then this is as good a place as any. I'll dig the hole.”

It didn't surprise her when he Changed into a wolf. He made short work of digging a man-size hole in the soil under the oak's gnarled branches, shoveling with his broad, sharp-nailed paws and pushing the dirt behind him with thrusts of his powerful hind legs. The grave wouldn't be deep; the soil was too shallow and rocky. But it would do its job.

As Jacob dug, Serenity prepared herself to touch the man she had killed. She crouched beside Perry's body, reached out slowly and brushed his eyelids closed, then straightened his arms and legs. He looked almost at peace now, the harshness gone out of his face, his heart no longer driven by the need to kill.

In that one way, though she was still alive, Serenity was like him. She had learned her lesson just in time.

Now she only had to explain to Jacob that his job was over.

As if he'd sensed her thoughts, Jacob gave her a long, wolfish look and Changed again.

“You ready?” he asked.

She nodded and moved to Perry's feet. She knew Jacob could easily handle the body himself, but even if her assistance was only symbolic, it was important.

Together they lifted Perry and carried him to the grave. Jacob took most of the weight as they lowered the other man into the ground. When the body was settled, Serenity straightened it again, folding Perry's arms over his chest.

“I'm not one for ceremony,” Jacob said, hovering with unusual awkwardness over the grave. “Anything you want to say?”

Serenity bowed her head and stumbled through a silent plea for forgiveness, with a wish that Perry might truly find peace in whatever place his soul found itself.

Then she nodded to Jacob, who used his human hands to push the dirt over the body. It took some time, but neither he nor Serenity was in any hurry to leave. When the hole was filled, Serenity helped Jacob tamp down the earth, and they collected rocks to cover the grave and give the body a little more protection.

After that they stood in silence for a while, absorbing the night-sounds that gradually resumed around them.

“You've got to get cleaned up,” Jacob said at last. He gathered the remaining shreds of his clothing. “Let's go down to the river.”

With a last glance at the grave, Serenity left the shelter of the trees, pausing to let Jacob take the lead. Five minutes' walk brought them to the bank of the Guadalupe River at the place where Jacob had suggested
setting up camp. The water was quiet there, with a low, grassy bank that ended in gravel next to the water.

The other women still hadn't arrived, and Serenity was glad. She sat down on the bank, too exhausted to move another inch. Her skirts were liberally spattered with blood, but she couldn't imagine finding the strength to remove them, let alone the petticoats and bodice and underthings to which she was so unaccustomed. Jacob continued to the river's edge and waded in, carrying his ruined trousers.

Serenity had seen Jacob naked on several occasions before tonight, each time when he had been about to Change. She had noticed his beauty before and tried to pretend she hadn't.

But now she was keenly aware of his body, of the way the rising moon's light slid over the contours of his back and shoulders and flowed down to his waist and below. He kept his back to her, a small concession to modesty, but there was nothing self-conscious in his movements.