Chapter Twenty Two
A hand grabbed Mary's arm when she stepped from the convenience store. She yelped, jerking back instinctively. She broke free, inhaling to scream. Then she saw who it was. The color drained from her face.
"Peter?" Her brother, younger than her by a year stood in front of her. How had he found her?
He reached for her again and she swatted his hand away. "Mary, don’t be childish. You have to come with me, now!"
"I don't think so," she glanced around, looking for any other Wolves from her community.
Andre! If Peter was here, who could be closing in on Andre? He was injured, he wouldn't be able to defend himself. Heart in her throat, Mary bolted for her car.
Peter caught her around the waist and hauled her back. Mary cried out in protest, but Peter continued trying to drag her towards his truck.
"Let me go this instant, Peter Locke!"
He released her.
Mary turned on him. "Who else is with you?"
"Nobody."
How long did they have before they got there?
Peter grasped her shoulders. "Your Bear killed Father! We found his body and smelled that Bear all around. We will not stand for the murder of one of our own, you know that. It won't be long before the others find him and if you're still with him, I won't be able to protect you."
The others didn't know where they were yet. Mary closed her eyes. Thank Luna! They had time to get out of here. She shoved at Peter, ignoring his protests, and headed for the car.
"Mary!" He grabbed her arm again, wrenching her to a stop. "Didn't you hear me? He killed Father!"
She glared at her brother coldly. Looking at him, her shoulder aching from Paul's attack and Peter's repeated yanks on her arm only solidified in her mind that what she had done was right. Who knew what Paul would have done to punish her! He probably was going to kill her.
"Father treated me as if I was a servant. No. Like a slave. You know exactly what he was like. If supper wasn't on the table right when he was ready, or if it wasn't hot enough for him, he'd burn my books. And if there was a speck of dirt on the floor, even in spring when everybody tracked in mud–everybody but me because I was always so busy I rarely could leave the house!"
Peter shook his head. His green eyes narrowed and his fingers dug painfully into her arm. "You said that you weren't sure if you could forgive the Bear for hurting Julia and she's fine now. So how can you forgive him for killing Father?"
"Because he didn't kill Father. I did." Mary's voice was a hiss.
Her brother's eyes widened and he let go, backing up a step. His face went from red to white in a matter of seconds. He shook his head. "No. No, you're just protecting him."
"I was protecting him. Father was going to kill him. He was going to kill me too! Why should I mourn the man that was trying to take my life from me?" She advanced a step, causing Peter to fall back again. "I was defending myself and my soulmate. Father was the one who started it."
Peter closed his eyes, shaking his head. He turned away, wiping his mouth with a trembling hand. Mary watched him impassively. A wind picked up, cold for the spring, bringing with it the scent of rain. The clouds overhead were dark and ominous. Good. Rain would mean the Wolves would have a harder time tracking them.
A bitter taste rose in her mouth as the question surfaced–how did Paul know where to find them in the first place? Nobody knew where she was going. Nobody except Peter.
"You told him, didn't you?"
Peter tensed.
"You told him that I was leaving to go back to Andre. Did you tell him that Andre was my soulmate, or did you make it out like Andre had brainwashed me?"
"I didn't tell him anything."
"How else would he find us, Peter?" Mary's hands clenched. She didn't want to believe it, but what other explanation was there? Knowing her brother had betrayed her trust hurt her worse than Paul's teeth piercing her skin.
"I don't know—"
"You were the only one who knew I was going to leave on the Full Moon Run. You were the one who gave me your truck so I could go back to him. Was it all a trick?"
"I didn't tell him!" Peter swiveled back to her, shouting. His hands balled into fists and he glared at his sister. "I didn't tell Father where you had gone! I was trying to give you the chance to get out of there. I hoped that if you got out, you'd get the rest of our sisters out too."
Mary blinked, not understanding.
"Didn't you wonder why Julia was so thin? Father caught her with Conrad Milton. He locked her in the root cellar for three weeks with hardly any food until it was determined if she was with child."
Mary gasped. "But when I asked her about Conrad she acted like… their relationship sounded so innocent! She was sure that he would be her soulmate after they slept together. She couldn't have done it already!"
Peter shook his head. "She wouldn't want to say that she had already slept with him, would she?"
"She would have told me. I'm sure she would have. Father was wrong."
"Whether he was or not, I'm sure she was running away to find you when the Bear attacked her. And now she's going to have to marry Conrad, and…" He trailed off, his eyes looking old and haunted. "But with Father gone maybe she won't."
A change came over him. Gone was his anger. He seemed vulnerable, uncertain. His shoulders slumped forward, as though the life had drained out of him.
"Peter…"
"I was relieved when I saw that Father was dead. But what sort of heartless monster does that make me, to be glad my own father is dead?"
Mary embraced him. "You're not a monster."
He drew in a shuddering breath. "I'm not."
"No. And I can't do anything but run away, especially now. But you are Paul Locke's eldest son. The land belongs to you now, and you have the respect our family name affords you. You can make sure that our sisters and brothers are treated properly. Maybe you can even change how things are done in the community."
"There is no changing the community."
"If you found Father's body, then you must have also seen the woman there. Zoe. She was a Bear, Father killed her."
Rage bubbled in Mary's gut, and for a moment she wished her father was there so she could kill him again. The strength of her feelings frightened her and she shuddered. I am not a monster. Oh, Luna! What if I didn't have to kill him? What if I just wanted to?
"She wanted to open talks between our communities," she continued before her thoughts could cycle further. "To build an alliance of shifters or something like that."
They both fell silent as a van pulled up to the store and a family climbed out noisily. Mary pressed her lips together, glancing at the store. She met the cashier's gaze, but the human looked away at once. Her cheeks heated, knowing that all this had been watched. How far had their voices carried?
"We shouldn't be talking about this in the open," she muttered.
Peter didn't seem to notice. He pinched the bridge of his nose and drew in quick, rapid breaths. Mary rubbed his back, trying to soundlessly soothe him. The last time she had seen him like this was when their youngest brother James was born and their mother nearly hemorrhaged to death.
"There weren't any other bodies," he said eventually. "Just Father and the scent of Bears. But he killed…"
"She and I were talking." Mary's throat closed up and her stomach churned as she remembered the feel of the warm spray of blood on her face. "She wasn't doing anything threatening. He wasn't even close enough to smell that she was a Bear. He killed her just for being there."
Peter shuddered. "And she wanted to talk? To us? Why would she do that?"
Mary opened her mouth to tell him what Andre had told her before they went to meet Zoe that day–was it really only a day ago? It seemed like she had stumbled around in the confusion of her guilt for weeks!
But then Peter looked at her again, and there was something burning in his eyes that made her think his question was not what she thought.
She remembered what Zoe had said. Your family has quite the reputation.
What had she meant by that? Andre said he'd tell her later, but it had been driven from her mind. Her hands trembled.
"What do you mean, Peter? What have you done?"
"Can I see your Bear?" His voice was small, meek like he truly wanted to see him.
Mary hesitated. She wanted to trust him. They had been allies growing up. He had helped her as much as he could in the house, even though he had his own chores outside. He always tempered Paul's punishments and convinced him to trust Mary with more freedom.
But when he found her at Andre's farm, the next day it was burned to the ground. When he helped her run back to Andre, Paul nearly killed them. What if he was part of it?
"I can't trust you," she said, shaking her head. "I wish I could, but I can't. Andre and I are going to leave the Americas. If you really care, then you will change things in the community, Peter. And you'll let us go."
"Mary—"
She turned on her heel and returned to the car, not looking at him. When she was driving away she glanced in the rear view mirror, afraid he'd try to follow her. He was still standing where she had left him, watching her go.