That seemed to confirm the truth of Jackson’s accusations about my Uncle Farley. We had taken every precaution against The Brotherhood finding us here at Dun Shiftin. The one person we had told was my father, and, sadly, one person whom he would have trusted that information with was his old friend.

That confirmation ought to have been a crippling moment for me but I had no time to process it.

“There.” Jackson pointed through one of the upstairs windows to a flicker of light out in the dense woods that surrounded the house. “And there. They’re coming.”

“You should have kept driving,” I said to Colt. “Now it’s too late to get out.” The Brotherhood were blocking the driveway.

“I wasn’t letting them attack without you knowing about it,” replied Colt.

“You did the right thing,” said Jackson, firmly.

“Now what?” asked Clarke.

“Now, we defend ourselves.”

Which was easier said than done in a house this size. There was no way we could cover all of the doors and windows. Even if we covered all those on the ground floor, then that left the possibility of them climbing up to the second-floor windows and then attacking us from within.

“At least from above we have a vantage point,” said Jackson, as he led the way up the stairs. At the top of each flight, we hastily dragged large piles of furniture into place, blocking their progress. It was a stop gap, but every moment might count. “If we can slow them down then we have a better chance of picking them off one by one. Does your father have a gun room?”

Werewolves don’t like guns – we’re more fans of hand to hand, claw to claw, tooth to tooth combat – but you have to move with the times, particularly if you’re a Pack Leader with a list of enemies as long as Route 20.

“What’s the long-term plan?” I asked. It seemed inconceivable that the four of us would be able to kill all of them.

“Same as it’s always been,” said Jackson, cryptically, adding no further explanation than that.

On the top floor, we did our best to make every staircase secure, then headed for the windows. We could see The Brotherhood approaching from every side. I had no idea they even had this many followers.

“All these people hate me?”

“They just haven’t gotten to know you,” said Clarke, dryly.

“Let’s not give them the chance.”

“Agreed,” said Jackson, raising a rifle to his shoulder. “Let’s see how easily they spook.”

He took aim and fired. It was an impressive shot from the third floor of a large building, and we all watched The Brotherhood man knocked to the ground, crying out in pain. Unfortunately, it did not look like the others were simply going to run away when faced with this defense.

“Make it hard for them,” said Jackson.

We all picked a window and began to fire at will at the oncoming Brotherhood. I had to admit, I wasn’t the best shot in the world – it’s just not something that werewolves are taught – but the guys were amazing, picking off man after man. Several of The Brotherhood changed – a response to fear or anger, but my bodyguards just kept firing until all the wolves had reached the base of the house and were out of our firing zone.

“Won’t stop them for long,” growled Jackson, under his breath.

He was right, of course. My father might have had guns in the house, but no werewolf in his right mind would keep silver bullets lying around – that was asking to get killed with your own weaponry. The guys might have been able to shoot a fair few of our attackers, but it was unlikely they had killed any of them. Normal bullets still hurt werewolves, so hopefully a few of them were out of the fight, but the odds against us remained ugly.

“Clarke, keep watching the windows,” said Jackson. “Make sure they don’t try to climb up. Colt, with me.”

Having received no instructions, I just followed Jackson and Colt and we stared down the stairwell. Suddenly, Jackson took aim and fired, and a roar of pain and anger echoed around us.

“We make it as difficult for them as possible,” Jackson said to his friend.

Colt nodded. Then both men clambered over the pile of furniture that blocked the stairs and headed down.

“No. You get back there,” snapped Jackson, as I tried to follow.

I made no answer except to change into wolf form.

Jackson shook his head. “I don’t know why I bother giving you orders. We hit hard, we hit fast, and we pull back. Got it?”

I nodded my shaggy, russet head.

On the second floor, we met The Brotherhood negotiating the first of the blockades we had put in place. They were so intent on what they were doing they did not notice our approach and Colt launched himself at them with the force of a cannonball, knocking Brotherhood men – some in wolf form, some human – out of his way. Jackson was just behind him, and together the two men put their shoulders to the barricade they had built, which now crashed down the stairs. Wardrobes, tables and easy chairs tumbled down in an avalanche of expensive antiques, winging and crushing The Brotherhood men on the stairs as they tried to get out of the way.

Those who were already on the second floor, having recovered from Colt’s initial attack, had now recovered and sprang at the Wolf Takers. This was where I came in. I bounded forward, taking a wolf in mid-air as he sprung at Jackson. We rolled together on the ground and I came out on top, slashing my claws relentlessly at his body until he stopped moving.

I jumped up, looking for my next prey. Jackson was fighting with a knife and I guessed the blade was silver coated from the way the wolves screamed when it went through them – a Wolf Taker knife. He moved with an agile yet powerful grace, exercising such perfect control over his body. He understood how werewolves fought so well that he never seemed to have to get out of the way of their claws, he simply wasn’t there when they swung. Catching a wolf off-balance, he landed a kick in its chest and it went backwards over the bannister, crashing to the floor beneath.

Colt was a more power-based fighter. He dove at the wolves, pummeling with his fists, his muscles bulging with effort, each blow landing with the force of a steam hammer. One to the stomach, two to the snout, one to the chest and then an uppercut to send the wolf flying before his assailant had even managed to fight back.

Joining the fight, I squared off against a big grey wolf who roared ferociously at me – he knew who I was, the man-bitch they were after. He dived, I dodged, then spun about to slash at his back. He flung himself back at me, pain making him careless, and I rolled onto my back, kicking him hard in the stomach with my legs and sending him sailing over the bannister.

The thrill of victory bubbled in me, mixing with adrenalin and making a heady cocktail. It was easy to get carried away on such a mixture and I was eager to keep fighting. But The Brotherhood on the ground floor were regrouping for a fresh assault. More importantly, there was more than one way up through the building, and if they took another they could get past us and take us from behind, or continue up and surprise Clarke.

“Back upstairs!” called Jackson, and although my wolf blood screamed for me to stay and fight, I followed his instruction.

We rushed back the way we had come, negotiating the blocked staircases, and made it back to our third-floor stronghold unharmed.

“That was amazing,” I enthused, once I had shifted back.

“Take it easy,” said Jackson. “Don’t let the bloodlust get you. It won’t be so easy next time – they’ll be expecting us.”

I nodded, trying to control my excitement. Even on the hunt I had never felt like this. It must have been how my ancestors felt – wild wolves who fought amongst themselves all the time. I never would have guessed myself as the type to give way to this sort of thing but it was intoxicating. My father would be so proud. I hoped I would get to share it with him.

“Anything?” Jackson turned back to Clarke.

Clarke shook his head. “All looks clear outside. I think the fight on the stairs drew them all in. Now they know they’re going to need all their number to get past you.”

Jackson nodded. “Good.” He turned to me. “You asked what the plan was.”

“And you said ‘same as it’s always been’.”

Jackson nodded. “Yeah. Keeping you safe.”

“What?”

Jackson looked me in the eye. “You have to go tell your father about Castleford. Stop the war. We’ve got all The Brotherhood in here now and the great thing about werewolves is they can’t imagine anyone running from a fight. You can climb down the outside of the building. Colt’s car is still out there.”

“I won’t leave you.” Whatever my fears and doubts about the future were, I knew how I felt about these men and I could not leave them to die here.

“You have to,” said Jackson. “Or many more will die. We can keep The Brotherhood busy for long enough that they don’t realize you’re gone.”

“But you need me here,” I begged – three humans against so many wolves? They would be torn apart.

“You think we can’t take them?” Colt spread his hands wide. “Bitch, please.”

“We’ll be fine,” Clarke backed up his friend.

“You have to do this,” said Jackson.

“But…” the words stumbled off my trembling lips, “but I love you.”

It was an odd moment to say it, with death lurking in the floors below us, but the genuine smiles on the faces of the guys made it worthwhile.

“We love you, too,” replied Jackson. “We’ll be here afterwards.”

I wasn’t sure if he believed it, or was just saying what it took to get me out. Either way, this time I had to do what he said. So many lives were hanging on it.

“Okay.”

Jackson nodded. “Colt. Let’s go.”

The pair headed for the staircase again, ready to create another chaotic diversion as I climbed out the window. Clarke helped me out.

“There’s a drainpipe there, you shouldn’t have any trouble shinning down.”

“I won’t,” I nodded. “Clarke?”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t die. None of you.”

Clarke scoffed. “Of course we won’t. We’re not the type.”

I forced a smile, but I wished there had been something else he could have said to make me believe it; some secret plan, a stash of silver bullets, anything. But I had to trust their skill, their strength, their speed, and their tremendous will to survive. Those were some pretty strong assets to bet on, but they were not enough to silence the fear that thumped with every beat of my heart as I climbed down the drainpipe.

Reaching the ground, I ran to Colt’s car, jumped in, and took off at speed. I drove like a maniac down the driveway – if I was caught by The Brotherhood now, then it would all be for nothing and I was not letting that happen. The night seemed to blur in front of me as I drove. At first, I thought it was the speed and then realized that I was crying. I wiped away the tears angrily from my eyes. The only reason to cry was if I thought I was never going to see them again, if I thought they were going to die, and that was not a possibility I was willing to admit. They were the strongest men I had ever known, they would not die.

I had never driven so fast in my life as I tore towards the city. I kept my mind focused only on the road ahead, literally and figuratively, as I thought about how to proceed when I got home. I would not allow myself to dwell on what was behind me, and when the thoughts crept in I forced them down. Worrying didn’t do any good.

Fast though I drove, it was still an hour of hard driving before I entered the outskirts of the city. I continued in the same pedal to the metal driving style here as I had on the lonelier roads outside, plowing through red lights and stop signs, as horns blared at me and other drivers gave me the finger.

Outside the Hokkai Pack Lodge, I screeched to a halt, leaping out amidst the smell of burning rubber and overheated engine. I ran up the steps and let myself in.

The first thing I did when I found my father was to tell him to send help to Dun Shiftin as fast as possible – I didn’t know if it would be in time, but I had to try, and Dad soon had his best men heading out there at speed. Then came the hard bit.

“Sit down, Dad.”

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk about Uncle Farley.”

How in the hell did I break the news to him? How in the hell could I? They had been friends for so long – Farley was practically an honorary Hokkai, so close was he to the pack leadership. He had given good advice over the years but I supposed that giving that advice had always been in his best interest, and when an opportunity had come up that meant him making a bunch of money by becoming traitor, he had not even flinched from it. I remembered the quiet devastation on my father’s face when he had found out that there was a traitor in the pack. I had seen that powerful man deteriorate before my eyes into someone I barely recognized, someone elderly and infirm. I now had no choice but to deliver an even more painful blow against him.

I told him the story as best I could, fearful at every second that I might see him break there and then, that this might be the blow from which the mighty Hokkai Jack could never recover. His expression remained blank throughout, unreadable, and I feared the worst. As I finished, he said nothing, his expression remaining unchanged.

“Dad?” I ventured.

My father slowly turned to look at me and I saw a pure, full-blooded fury start to bleed into his face, contorting his features into an expression of anger familiar to any who crossed him.

“That bastard!”

“Dad…”

“I’ll kill him!”

“Dad…”

“I’ll do it myself with my own two hands. Not even in wolf shape. I’ll open his stomach with my teeth and pull out his intestines by the yard. Then, I’ll feed them back in through his mouth, out through the hole in his stomach, back into mouth and so on until I’ve run out of intestine. Then, I’ll have his corpse lacquered, wired for electricity, fit a few light bulbs and I’ll string him up in the Great Hall in place of a chandelier.”

Distasteful though the image was, it was oddly wonderful for me to hear my father reacting with his usual venom rather than the despondency that I had feared. Far from breaking what was left of his spirit, the news of Farley’s betrayal seemed to have brought him back to normal. However much it must have been a shock, Hokkai Jack liked to have an enemy. The news that there was a traitor amongst his most trusted inner circle had broken him, partly because there had been no one on whom to focus the emotions that boiled inside him. Now, Farley Castleford had become a lightning rod to conduct those raging emotions.

“Where is he? Where’s… GUARD!” He yelled at the door and a guard hurried in. “Find Farley Castleford. Now!” The man rushed out again. “I shall take his head and use it as a…”

“Dad.” He finally seemed to remember that I was there.

“Yes, darling?”

“You need to stop the war.”

An expression of realization passed over my father’s face. “Oh yes, right. Must get on that.”

Werewolf ‘wars’ are not like human ones. There are no armies, few weapons, and nothing that you could really call a battle. What there are is a series of skirmishes as wolves on both sides are encouraged to grab territory from the other side, killing as many as possible. This meant that as soon as war was declared, people started making attacks and incursions on their immediate neighbors, as much because their neighbors had a bigger garden than them as because of any larger reason for war. It was only in the final reckoning between the two Pack Courts that anything akin to a battle occurred.

Within minutes of me speaking to Dad, a howl was set up – the quickest way to get word out to werewolves on the ground. You couldn’t get a lot of information across in a howl, but it was good for a single, simple, declarative statement, like; war’s off. As the howl spread and Hokkai wolves stood down, casting lingering jealous looks back at the nice gardens across the street, Dad made a call to MacKenzie Sean. It took a little time to get him to the phone as the MacKenzie had little patience for modern technology, but eventually Dad was able to speak to the Pack Leader.

“Listen, Sean, I’m undeclaring war… It is too a word…. Well, here’s the story.” He related a brief version of the relationship between Castleford and The Brotherhood and how he himself had been manipulated by a devious human advisor, with me correcting some of the details as he spoke. “So, that’s what’s been happening. Very sorry, of course, but no harm, no foul... Well, I don’t see there’s any cause to take that attitude, I said I was sorry… We all make mistakes, Sean… Well, if you’re going to be like that then I can easy enough redeclare war… It is a word…”

The conversation descended into bickering and I left them to it. The war had been prevented and the Pack Leaders could remain in the uneasy peace that existed between them. They might not like each other, but they weren’t going to kill each other.

As I was wandering off, a guard hurried in and looked around.

“He’s on the phone,” I said, indicating my father.

“Right…” The guard didn’t want to interrupt but clearly had news.

“What is it?” I asked.

“We can’t find Mr. Castleford.”

“You’ve been to his house?”

“Looks like he left in a hurry.”

Well, that wasn’t a complete surprise, but I was happy enough to leave it to my dad.

“Also,” the guard went on, “our people have arrived at Dun Shiftin.”

My heart leapt into my mouth. Through all of this, I had been making a conscious effort to force to the back of my mind all thoughts of what might be happening to the guys. Not because I didn’t care, but because there was nothing I could do and worrying about it didn’t help. I needed to believe that it would all be okay, that they would be fine, and I had clung to that belief, that their strength and skill and determination would see them through. Perhaps I even hoped that I myself had given them something to live for. Now, I would have to face facts, whatever those facts proved to be.

“Tell me.”

“The Brotherhood wolves are all dead and we have re-taken the estate.”

“And the Wolf Takers?”

“They’re alive,” the guard said, but the tone of his voice told me that there was more to be said. “But one of them has been badly hurt.”

“How badly?” I asked.

“They just said badly,” the guard replied. “But… it didn’t sound…”

But I didn’t wait to hear the end of the sentence, I was already heading for the door.

“Bailey!” I heard my dad running after me. He caught hold of my arm.

“I have to go,” I blurted through gathering tears. “The Wolf Takers…” I looked up into my father’s concerned eyes. “Daddy, I think I love them.”

My father rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously you do. Have you only just worked that out?”

“You don’t…”

Hokkai Jack held up his hands. “All I want, Bailey, is for you to be happy and safe. They seem more than capable of making you both. I may not always have been the best father, but your mother would never forgive me if I didn’t let you have your own way on this one. Now, take my car – it’s faster. Go to them.”