Brothersong (Green Creek #4) - T.J. Klune Page 0,24

and slick. He was babbling, telling me he was sorry, he was so sorry, man, don’t hurt me anymore, please don’t hurt me, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, your eyes, your eyes, why do they look like that, why are they purple?

The fight had drained out of him. All that remained was fear.

He was afraid of me.

I looked back up at the crowd.

They were horrified.

A few had their hands over their mouths.

Sarah was sobbing. She was terrified.

I said, “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to—”

The bartender pushed through the crowd. He carried a shotgun. He pointed it at me. “I don’t know who you are, but if you touch him again, I’ll blow your head off.”

He tracked me with the shotgun as I stepped away from the tattooed man. Sarah rushed forward, going to her knees next to her brother. She cradled his face in her hands as he moaned. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask them to—”

“His eyes,” the man babbled. “His eyes. His eyes. His eyes.”

“Get out of here,” the bartender said coldly. “I’ve already called the cops. You’ve got maybe five minutes before they show up.”

I nodded and turned toward the truck, my eyes burning.

I only stopped when the bartender said, “Wolf.”

I didn’t look back.

“Don’t let me catch you here again. Your kind isn’t welcome here.”

I left.

peter and the wolf/our father

The third note came in August.

I thought I was dreaming most days. Kelly was there more and more, and everything had a hazy edge to it. It was getting harder to wake up.

The roads all looked the same. The days bled together.

Kelly said, “You’re going to lose your mind.”

I laughed, though it sounded rusty and broken. “I think it might be a little late for that.”

He sighed. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“I have to. He would do the same for me.”

He had that stubborn set to his jaw. I ached at the sight of something so familiar. “You don’t know that. You don’t even know him.”

“Years. He was with us for years.”

“And stuck as a wolf,” Kelly (Not-Kelly) reminded me. “Feral. For all you know, he doesn’t remember anything. Like Robbie.”

“He saved us,” I whispered, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

Kelly shook his head. “I know. But don’t you miss me? Don’t you want to come home?”

“More than anything,” I said hoarsely. “You know that.”

“I need you, Carter. Why would you do that to me? You know what losing Robbie did to me. You were there. And yet you didn’t even hesitate in leaving me behind.” He was crying. “I don’t understand. How could you be so cruel?”

I couldn’t look at him. I was numb. “I love you.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. More than anything.”

“Then come home. Please.”

I swallowed thickly. “I… can’t. Remember what Joe said? To that hunter. David King. To tell Ox.”

He laughed through his tears. “Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. It’s all happened before and it will all happen again. These circles. We keep going in circles. Ox and Joe. Gordo and Mark. Me and Robbie. We keep making the same mistakes over and over and over.”

“I know.”

“What are you going to do about them?” He nodded toward the front of the truck.

“I’ll handle it.”

But he was already gone.

I looked out the windshield.

Wolves growled.

I got out of the truck, hands raised, and was surrounded almost immediately.

“Who are you?” the Alpha demanded, hand around my throat. She pressed me against the truck, the handle digging into my back. “What are you doing in my territory?”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” I managed to get out.

“Then why are you here?”

“Can’t… breathe….”

Her grip lessened, and I sucked in air. Her nostrils flared as her forehead furrowed. She shook her head as she narrowed her red eyes again. “What do you want?”

I reached up and settled my hand on her wrist. I held on gently so she wouldn’t think I was going to hurt her. “I’m looking for someone.”

“There’s no one here for you.”

“Not anymore.”

“Why would you think he was here in the first place?”

I grinned at her. “I never said it was a he.”

She sighed as she let me go. “Shit.”

THEY WERE A YOUNG PACK, all unmated. The oldest, the Alpha, was only twenty. She wouldn’t tell me her name and refused to let me talk to any of the others. That was fine. I didn’t come for them, only for what they could tell me.

Theirs was a house set back in the Canadian wilds. No one else was around for miles. They