Wolfen (48 page)

“
What?
”

Helena shrugged. “You’re cute enough. Got a good mouth on
ya, too. And you move like you know how. I can work with that. What do you
say?”

Sinna shook her head, trying not to gape. “Killer clown
nightmare. I swear to God.” She edged around the crazy person, and picked up
her step to get away from her.

“Is that a ‘no’ to the sexy-sexy, then?” Helena called,
louder than necessary.

“That’s a ‘no.’ Stop following me!”

“Hey, I can’t help it if we’re going the same way.”

Sinna halted. “Where are you going?”

Helena shrugged. “Armory.”

“Excellent.” Sinna turned in a different direction. “You
have yourself a lovely day.”

“Are you mad at me or something? ‘Cuz if this is about the
other night, I
asked
you what your name was, and you wouldn’t tell me.
That ass-kicking is all your own fault.”

Something about the way she said it niggled at Sinna’s
memory and she turned to face Helena, trying not to feel intimidated by the
blonde’s extra inches and truly terrifying shoulder muscles. “What are you
talking about?”

“What’ss. Your-ruh. Naiiiim-muh?” Helena enunciated as if
speaking to an idiot.

Sinna shifted from foot to foot, pulling on her sleeves to
curl her hands inside them. “Someone I knew since I can remember sometimes
called me Sigma Nine.”

Helena blinked, expression momentarily blank, before her
eyes sparkled with anger. “Are you shitting me right now?”

“Uh, no?”

“A nine? Are you
out of your mind?
”

“Hey—”

“What the hell were you thinking, challenging a three? Jesus
Christ!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Obviously!” Helena whirled around to stomp away, but just
as quickly rounded back on Sinna. “You listen to me now, little girl, and you
pay attention. Next time you meet one of us, you look at your feet. You fall in
love with your toes, and you don’t lift your gaze off of them. Under
no
circumstances
do you
ever
stare anyone down, you got it? You don’t
challenge an adult, unless you can back it up—and believe me, you can’t. So
just don’t. Understand?”

“No, I don’t.” Little girl. Little bit. Weak, puny, barely
Wolfen female who couldn’t hold her own against anyone, apparently. Was Helena
trying to piss her off?

Helena snarled, shoving her hands through her hair. “God,
what is wrong with you?” She huffed, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
Then, without opening them, she pointed down the path. “I don’t have the nerves
for this. Bryce is with the quartermaster, where you should be, getting fitted
for gear. Go there—now.”

Sinna felt no particular urge to obey. She wasn’t in the
mood to be bossed around, and she didn’t want to see Bryce. They’d spent every
waking—and sleeping—moment together since Haven, and she could use some
distance right about now to consider her next move. Crossing her arms, she
rooted her feet and started Helena down.

The girl growled. “Fine. It’s your life. Do whatever you
want.”

Sinna smiled as Helena stomped away. A small victory, but a
mighty one.
Damn, that felt good!
With renewed vigor, she headed for the
lake where she’d seen women go to wash earlier. The hell she would take one
more order. From anyone. Sinna might not have Helena’s strength, but she had a
good head on her shoulders. There were other ways to win wars than with brute
strength.

Weak and puny, am I? I’ll show them.

The feast was formal? All right, she’d wear a dress.

And it sure as hell wouldn’t be that stupid blue tent.

The good news was the linen shirt was big, which gave him
plenty of room to move. The bad news was the pants were tight leather with
laces instead of a zipper up the front. Bryce could barely take a step, but
when he’d asked the quartermaster for a bigger pair, the woman had giggled and
told him they were supposed to fit that way. She’d traded him silver cuffs and
a shoulder guard for a few bandages and a box of painkillers, but not even the
whole rest of his supplies could buy him a different pair of pants.

Sinna had been right. These costumes were meant to humiliate
them.

The thought of her made him slow to a stop in the shadows
between the goat pen and a storage shed.

She thought he wanted to leave her behind. He’d be lying if
he said it had never crossed his mind. The moment he’d seen this place, Bryce
had recognized how rare it was—these people had built themselves up from
nothing, and they were self-sufficient, isolated, and safe, as long as no one
brought trouble to their door. And Sinna had a friend here. She wouldn’t need
to feel like a stranger.

Bryce had considered
asking
her if she wanted to
stay. It would have killed him, but if she’d said yes, he would have let her.

Okay, he’d have tried.

Shit, who was he kidding? He hadn’t seen her for a day and
it was already pushing him closer to the edge than he’d been in months. No way
he’d ever leave her anywhere, especially not in the care of humans.

And better off with Helena? In what universe? Helena was
practically male, except for a few anatomical quirks. Bryce might go hunting
with her, and it’d probably be like hunting with Aiden. But to come home to her
at the end of the day?

Bryce shuddered.

Whenever you don’t understand someone, put yourself in
their shoes,
Aiden always said.
That tends to clear things up real
quick.

Sinna had been raised by a human. She’d never met another
Wolfen until Bryce and Aiden had entered her life. The only other females she’d
ever seen were the ones Klaus kept chained to the wall. She had no frame of
reference, so of course she didn’t know.

In their world, Sinna wasn’t the anomaly. Helena was.

He smiled, instantly feeling better. That was it. He’d just
explain it to Sinna, and everything would work itself out.

An enthusiastic shout rose up in the square, and drums set a
driving rhythm to accompany some kind of wind instrument. The feast had begun.

Bryce quickened his step, not keen on getting lectured for
being late. He rounded the corner, then stopped in his tracks, gobsmacked.

A massive bonfire roared in the middle of the square; a pile
of wood as tall as Bryce, with flames licking high into the air. People crowded
the tables with benches set up in a broken circle around it, eating, drinking,
dancing, and singing with a joy the likes of which he hadn’t seen perhaps ever.
And they were all dressed just like him—men in colorful shirts, women with
ribbons and flowers in their hair.

The scent of good food—and lots of it—made Bryce’s stomach
growl. He stalked forward, eyes sharp for Sinna.

Matron met him at one of the tables. Unlike the other women,
she wore loose pants and the same leather vest from yesterday. “Welcome. Where
is your friend?”

“On her way.” He hoped. He’d only seen her from a distance
earlier in the day, but he wouldn’t give this woman any reason to assume
anything was wrong.

Matron nodded. “Well, good. You look very handsome. Our
fashion agrees with you.”

Bryce grunted.

“Did you get everything you need for your trip?”

“Your quartermaster was very generous,” he said, forcing a
smile.

“I’m glad to hear it. Please”—she waved him toward a table
farther down—“won’t you join me for supper?”

An ear-splitting whistle made Bryce reach for the knife he’d
strapped on beneath his shirt. On the other side of the circle, Helena jumped
onto one of the tables, raising a clay bottle high. “
Sláinte
!” Firelight
glittered off of her chainmail top, which she wore directly against her skin.
It was tight enough to hug her chest, and short enough to bare her stomach. No
skirts for the town rebel. No, she wore leather pants, bare feet covered with
dirt.

People cheered when she took a long swig. She jumped down
and joined the dancing ring, and the musicians picked up the pace to match her.

Bryce shook his head and followed Matron to his seat. The
table was piled with food, a roasted goat adorned with greens and apples served
as their centerpiece. On either side sat rows of bowls, one filled with
sausages, another with steaming potatoes, and still another with fresh
vegetables. There was a jug of ale to every four people, and a cask of what
smelled like wine at each end.

Every dish small enough to be passed around was, and Bryce
took a bit of each to fill his plate. He’d hardly eaten all day. Normally, that
wouldn’t have bothered him, but who could resist food like this? He had just
enough restraint to use the two-pronged fork and eating knife, instead of
shoveling it all into his mouth with his bare hands.

Matron watched him eat for a moment before she took a sip
from her goblet and asked, “Do you have many females where you come from?”

Bryce almost choked on a piece of potato.

Matron’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I didn’t mean
that
. I’m
certain a male like you can have any female he wants. I was just curious. Your
den isn’t all male, is it?”

Bryce gulped down some ale.

“Forgive me,” she said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had
the company of a first gen, and all of the ones I’ve ever seen were children.
I’m trying to imagine what sort of community they would have formed. If they’re
anything like my daughter…” She nodded to Helena currently frenching some poor,
unsuspecting guy. “Well, you can understand my curiosity.”

“You want to know what our den’s like? Look around.”

At first, Matron seemed startled, but then she took a gander
at her own people, a slow perusal of giggling girls and the boys who made eyes
at them, mothers cuddling their children and men drinking with their buddies.
She paused at the musicians, a small smile creasing her aged face. David was on
the wind instrument, playing a fast-paced old-agey tune. He looked happy. “I
see,” she said, and maybe she was the first human who truly did. She graciously
inclined her head at Bryce. “Thank you.”

He nodded in reply.

“I need to ask you something,” she added. “A favor. Look
after my daughter, will you? I taught her to be strong and always fight to win.
I know she can handle herself out there, but a mother always worries.”

Of your two daughters, Helena’s not the one you need to
worry about.
Bryce didn’t say it out loud, but it was there on the tip of
his tongue. This woman, wringing her hands about her Wolfen girl going off into
the world, had left her own flesh and blood in the dust. Wolfen were by no
means saints, but he’d never heard of one abandoning a pup in need, whether
theirs or not, Wolfen or otherwise. Yet
they
were the animals?

The crowd suddenly hushed, all eyes turned in one direction.
The bonfire blocked what they were all looking at, but Bryce’s skin still
prickled with awareness. Slowly, he pushed to his feet to get a better view.

And there she was: Sinna. Her hair was loose and tumbling
around her face and shoulders in a wild mane of glossy curls, cheeks red and
chin shyly to her chest, but she glanced up every once in a while and her eyes
reflected firelight his way.

As ordered, she wore a dress. But it wasn’t the one they’d
given her. It was a sexy little number dotted with white and pink flowers,
clingy at the top and flaring at the hips to just above her knees. Her time in
hiding had made her pale, but bathed in firelight, her skin glowed with health
and radiance.

And the gaze of every single man in attendance was glued to
her.

Bryce was no exception. He forgot to breathe, watching Sinna
edge around the dancers craning their necks to see her.

She approached and tucked her hair behind her ear, flashing her
silver bracelet. “Hi,” she said. “Did you save me a seat?”

Her hair was shorter than he remembered. Bryce wanted to ask
if she’d cut it, and why, but something seemed to be wrong with his mouth.

Matron cleared her throat, and Bryce realized several seconds
had passed while he’d been woolgathering. “Uh, yeah. Here.” He offered his
hand, like a damned gentleman, but when she took it, Bryce’s chest puffed with
pride and he helped her to her seat.

He couldn’t stop staring.

Sinna met his gaze and her brow twitched in a quick frown,
but then she smiled. “What?” she said.

“Nothing,” he replied. “You look…I mean…” Jesus, what the
hell was wrong with him? He cleared his throat. “That’s a really pretty dress.”

“Thank you,” she said, and tucked away a smile that could
only mean trouble. Reaching for the ale jug, she muttered, “Maybe now you won’t
call me ‘little bit’ anymore.”

He was pretty sure she hadn’t meant for him to hear that,
but Bryce responded anyway. “No.” Never again.

She flushed and ducked her head, hiding her face behind her
hair.

Bryce didn’t like that; he didn’t want her hiding from him.

Helena dropped a thick, heavy log onto the ground across
from them and sat, tearing a leg from the closest roast duck. “Oh yeah, this is
the stuff.” She bit off a huge chunk and chewed with her mouth open. “My
compliments to the chef,” she said around the meat.

Matron rolled her eyes and excused herself to mingle with
her people.

Helena piled her plate high with every type of meat within
reach, ignoring the vegetables all together. Bryce and Sinna watched mesmerized
as she chomped down on two sausages at the same time. Eventually, she had so
much food in her mouth, her cheeks were ballooned to the breaking point, but
she still managed to stick her fingers between her lips to lick each one
individually.

By the time she’d reached her left ring finger, she noticed
them staring. “What?”

Sinna came back to her senses first. “Nothing.” She shook
her head, twirling a curl around her finger. “Just, you know. Enjoying the feast.”

“Uh-huh.” Helena chewed quickly and swallowed. “So which way
are we going tomorrow?”

“North,” Sinna replied shortly.

“How far?”

Sinna looked askance at Bryce.

“It took us three days to get here from Haven,” he answered.

Helena made a contemplative sound. “Three days on foot. We
can probably cut that in half on horseback. Not too bad.”

“We didn’t walk; we drove.”

Helena’s hand froze on her second helping of duck leg.
“Drove…
what
exactly?”

“A car,” Sinna said.

Helena considered that a moment, then shrugged and bit into
the thigh. “Works for me.”

They waited for her to say more, but she didn’t, so Sinna
returned to eating her own much smaller portion while Bryce picked at the
remains of his. He kept glancing sideways at Sinna. She wasn’t eating enough.
They should take advantage of all of this food while they had it. No telling
what, if anything, they’d find on the way back, and there was only so much they
could take with them without it slowing them down.

He searched for something she hadn’t tasted yet, and spotted
a platter of cakes farther down on his side. Reaching over the two people
closest to him, he picked up the whole thing and set it down in front of
Sinna’s plate. There.

She looked confused by his gesture.

Helena snickered, spraying pieces of food all over her
immediate vicinity before covering her mouth. Making a visible effort to
compose herself, she straightened, and dutifully finished chewing. When she was
done, she smiled at them, fluttering her eyelashes before slouching down. “So
here’s what I don’t get.” She picked up the third half-eaten duck leg, and
pointed it at Bryce and Sinna in turn. “You two spend three days in a closed
car together. You come here all lovey-dovey and smelling like you’ve been
married since kindergarten—you’d finish each other’s sentences if you ever
talked—but you haven’t slept together yet. How is that even possible?”

Sinna’s fork clattered to the table. “Excuse me?”

“I know, right? What’s with the celibacy schtick? We all know
you want to do the horizontal tango. Sitting with you guys is like sucking up
love fumes. It’s sickening, really. So what’s the hold up?”

“Oh my God, please stop talking,” Sinna growled.

Her mouth full of duck again, Helena turned to Bryce. “Is it
‘cuz she’s a virgin?”

Everything stopped.

It didn’t, really. The musicians still played, the dancers
still danced, and people still did whatever they were doing, blissfully
ignorant of this byplay. Bryce just didn’t see or hear any of it. The smallest
instant of time stretched out longer than it should have, and, caught in the
middle of it, he grasped for some way to undo it.

He’d known about Sinna; of course he’d known. He couldn’t
not
know, as much time as they’d spent together. But to hear it said out loud…changed
things. It was real now, part of a conversation they hadn’t had yet—and one
Helena should never have been a part of.

If it had stayed between the two of them, Bryce would have
handled it a lot better than sitting there, dumbfounded.

Sinna slapped her hands over her eyes. “I can’t believe you
said that.”

“What? That you’re a virgin?”

“Stop it. Stop!”

“Like he didn’t know? Come on, girl. Get real. His nose is
ten times stronger than a wolf’s. He can probably tell, down to the second,
when you start ovulating. He’s sure as hell gonna know if you did it with
someone—he knows when you
want
to. Am I right?”