I expected more from Jack Osborne. Of all the dastardly things he’d done, I expected much more along the lines of security. Maybe he thought his enemies would tuck in their tails, run, and hide. I wasn’t that type of man. I preferred settling things up, close, and personal.

When the jet touched down on the property—a ranch and farm no larger than the one the Arnou and Caedmon packs had raided some three years back—I saw nothing but a dinghy white picket fence around the estate. Fields stretched out for miles along the property and there appeared to be one lone dirt road leading straight to it. On the way down, I didn't spot any other homes in the immediate vicinity. It was like the Osbornes had chosen seclusion.

Paco, Dinsel, and I exited the first jet. Another fifteen men from two separate crews exited the last of the jets.

The few people scattered around the farmland had halted their work, probably right before our jets landed. They looked on in curiosity but didn't make any attempts to flee the area. I assumed that they were farm and field workers. Everything was deathly quiet after the pilots turned off the engines. It didn't stay quiet.

The bushes just outside the fence began to rustle, and out sprang a pack of wolves. I didn't even bother to count them, but there had to have been close to two dozen. Even as they rushed out of the woods, eating up the distance to reach us, I had already concluded that they were Converted wolves.

Their eyes were bright yellow, almost unnaturally so. Seeing them again on a rampage reminded of the night I was attacked by a group of them. By the time the Converted wolves jumped over the picket fence, my men already had their guns drawn.

I turned to Dinsel and gave him one simple nod. He silently gave the orders for my men to open fire. Gunfire erupted behind me as I trekked across the field over hard-packed earth and cow shit. I didn’t even stop to witness the bloodbath that was unfolding behind me.

A ranch house sat in the center of it all. It was two stories high with a wraparound porch. I’d heard that the Osbornes lived together—sometimes three or more generations deep. I had no idea if that were the case now. Over the years, so many of their family members had tried to cross us before, failed, and lost their lives.

Members of the crew moved ahead of me, folding out onto the wraparound porch and on the grounds surrounding the ranch, taking their respective positions.

The farmers and field workers were nowhere in sight now. Half of them had run off into the woods. Except for the horses roaming in the back, two stray cats, and some chickens wandering around, I didn't spot any more wolves…or humans for that matter. How dare Jack use wolves as nothing more than rabid guard dogs?

I halted near the front steps but didn't go any further. The front door was propped open, but there was a screened door over the entrance.

“Hello? Anyone? Owner of the house?” I called out, amused that no one would come out, yet I could hear several fearful hearts beating inside.

No one said a thing. No one came outside.

Paco pushed a young male forward in the grass and said, “We found this one hunkered down in one of the tractors.”

I looked down at the young male. He was tall and gangly with a head of curly auburn hair. I sized him up, figuring that he was in his early twenties.

“You live here?” I asked him.

He nodded rapidly, avoiding eye contact.

“Are your parents here?”

He hesitated and then nodded again.

“Then what’s your name?”

“Ruerik,” he stuttered.

I smiled widely. “Let me guess? Osborne?”

“I was playing hide and seek,” he replied.

“Get up,” I ordered, agitated that he thought this was a game.

Paco jerked him to his feet, keeping the gun pointed in his direction.

“I’ve got Ruerik here. We can do this one of a couple of ways. I need the Osborne in charge to step outside, or I'll send a grenade inside,” I warned.

Something shuffled around inside the home.

I looked down at my wristwatch when no one came outside.

“One minute remaining,” I said. “And in case you’re wondering, I’m not here for games. If I detect any magic, I’ll burn this place to the ground.”

Dinsel tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to a swing set and a couple of tricycles under a tree in the backyard.

There were kids here. “Shit!” I muttered under my breath.

“Let’s make this easier for everyone. Thirty seconds remaining,” I called out. “I’d hate to put a bullet in Ruerik’s skull.”

”You send Ruerik in, and we'll send someone out to meet you,” a gruff voice muttered from inside.

I shook my head. ”No. Definitely no. Your options are as follows…send out the head coward in charge, and I won't put a bullet in Ruerik's head.”

All of a sudden, an older woman rushed out, or maybe she was pushed out, onto the porch. She held her arms up.

“Please…” she said. “Don’t shoot me. Don’t shoot Ruerik.”

“No one’s going to shoot you,” I said. “Are you the owner of this house?”

She nodded.

“Your name?”

“Marcie Lewis Osborne.”

“Wife?” She was middle-aged with her auburn-colored hair tied back into a bun.

I looked from Marcie to Ruerik. “This is your son.”

Marcie nodded. “Please don’t hurt him.”

I unbuttoned my blazer and took out a Ruger. Marcie wailed in distress.

“Be quiet,” I told her while screwing a silencer on the barrel. “If you cooperate, things will go much smoother.”

Marcie nodded and looked down at the floorboards.

“Are there children in the home?” I asked.

She turned slightly, her gaze traveling towards the screened door. “Yes.”

”Here's what you're going to do. You're going to usher all of the children from the house,” I told her. ”Go back in there. Get nothing but the children and come back out.”

She turned swiftly.

“Wait!”

She halted.

“Don't get any ideas. Men are surrounding the home as you can see. If anyone tries to escape, things will get very ugly. Do you understand? Da?”

She bobbed her head.

“Underage children only. Make it quick.”

To demonstrate my seriousness, I thrust Ruerik forward and put a gun to his head.

There was a lot of movement in the home and a series of forced whispers before Marcie emerged with two newborns in her hand. Coming out right behind her were five other children. All of them were girls.

“How many others are in the home?” I asked Marcie as she stood out on the porch with the little girls clutching at her dress.

Marcie shook her head.

“I asked you a question.”

“Six, seven…I…I don’t know. I was in the kitchen when you came.”

“Are they women?” I asked.

Marcie bobbed her head.

“Witches?”

Her lips trembled. She said nothing.

“How many?”

“F-four,” she whispered.

“And Jack Osborne? Where is he?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Marcie wailed.

I scowled and pressed the butt of the gun right up to Ruerik’s ear. “You lie. There was a man inside earlier. I heard his voice.”

“Please!” Marcie cried out. “I didn’t see him when I got the children out.”

“Get down here,” I pointed to a shaded area under a massive oak tree.

She ushered the children under the tree.

I held up my hand, sending physical orders to the crew members on the porch. They sent about a dozen smoke bombs into the homes through the windows to make my message clear. I wasn’t going to lit up the place yet.

As expected, a gang of women came running from the home. Three of the women ran straight into the arms of Marcie while another three remained on the porch. It didn’t take me long to realize that they were holding hands, mumbling some mumbo jumbo I couldn’t understand.

They were doing magic.

Suddenly, I was forced to my knees and my animal pushed against my skin. I grabbed my head in agony and hollered as pain seized my entire body. Looking around, the rest of the shifters in my crew were also rolling around in agony on the floor.

Those three hags were either trying to kill us or force our animals out.

I held my hand up and called out, “Spustite ih dole! Put them down now.” They needed to be stopped.

On my command, the human Elites took out alternate weapons and shot all three witches with a serum that would temporarily paralyzed them. They dropped to the porch and the agony stopped.

“Alright,” I said, my blood boiling. “I see.” I pulled back my hammer on my gun. “You come for me. I stand my ground. I come for you. You cower in the shadows.” I pushed forward onto the porch, determined to find the illusive Jack Osborne.

“Wait!” I heard a man call out from the other side of the home.

I stepped back, looking to the right of me, spotting a male with long salt-n-pepper hair emerge from what seemed to be an underground shelter.

He came out with his arms up. “I’m the one you want. I’m Jack. In the flesh.”

The old man came toward me and I backed up a bit. Not because I feared him, but because I expected an old and graying senior citizen. Jack Osborne was said to be at least a century old, but this man had the body of a fifty-year-old.

“Don’t do any magic.” I raised my gun to show that I meant to enforce my warning.

Jack leveled his bright silver gaze with mine and grinned. “What about just a little magic?”

As if on cue, a member of my crew began to scream in agony and scratch at his eyes. Blood drained from every opening on his face. Before anyone could aid him, his entire body spontaneously combusted into flames. He dropped to the ground and burned to death.

I lumbered forward, put a bullet in Osborne’s chest, and he collapsed knee-first on the hard earth.

“I thought you should know who you’re dealing with, boy,” Osborne muttered.

The bullet hadn't even put him out. I grabbed another gun loaded with the paralyzing serum and pumped two rounds into him. The old man swayed back and forth but held his ground like the poison didn't even faze him.

Osborne laughed.

I couldn’t stand the sight of him. I pistol-whipped him across the face. “Shut the fuck up! I ask, you answer. Nothing more.”

“If anyone of them does magic of any type, put them down. Any kind of hocus pocus or yabba dabba…put a bullet in them this time,” I called to the crew members.

Ruerik, who was convulsing as he stared at a bleeding Jack, tried to run to him.

I yanked him up by the collar. “No, boy. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Hide and seek,” Ruerik mumbled.

“We don’t have time for games. Is this one a witch too?” I demanded, pointing the gun at Ruerik.

“Wait!” Marcia rushed forward. “Please…he has no powers. No powers at all. All the magic is gone. Please have mercy. He doesn’t understand any of this. He stopped developing mentally around the age of six.”

I tilted my head to the side, giving the kid another once-over, noting that he'd already peed his pants. Ruerik didn't even look at me. All he did was stand there and shudder. I lowered my gun.

“Get him over there with the children,” I ordered her.

With the women and children out of the way and the paralyzing serum working its way through Osborne’s system, I circled him. He had the signature long black hair that his children inherited…well, most of them anyway. His irises had clouded over transforming from bright silver to gray.

He shifted on the ground once and I immediately put a gun to his ear.

“No, no, no. Stay down,” I ordered.

“Why down on your level, boy?” he countered.

“You’ll never reach my level,” I replied.

“I've heard about you. Tristan Arnou. Arrogant son of a bitch with a fucking God complex. A murdering lunatic. Who do you think you are coming up in my home interrogating my wives and children?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t come to pay a visit after you came for me? I like to settle my scores man to man.”

“There’s nothing to settle. What’s done is done. It’s too bad that it’s over for you,” he said.

“Why did you do this?” I waved my arm out to the field where the Converted lay dead. "Those fucking venomous wolves…you created them. Why?"

“To restore the balance,” he said.

“Restore what balance? There’s us…and then there’s you. There is no balance to restore.”

”Yes, there is. The balance should be in favor of the witches as it was intended to be. You are what you are because we made you this way. Yet, no credit is given.”

“Is this about credit? You want extra credit? What do you think this is? A high school mathematics exam?”

He snorted. “Don’t play dumb. The witches have been shunned for decades. We had no place within your pack.”

“You would hold the current leadership accountable for something that happened over a century ago? We've evolved. I have no time for petty games and I'm almost certain the Caedmon Alpha doesn't either. But if you think we're going to be lenient with you after all the things your family has done to us in the past, you're a fool.”

“The men that came before you wanted the witches silenced for good. They ran most of the Marshals out of existence and they tried to yank our bloodline from existence. They pulled every maneuver in the book just so that Caedmon and Arnou existence could remain a secret. There was a period where we were made to burn when we were accused of witchcraft. I was taught never to forget and to teach my children the same. While other bloodlines may cower at the sight of shifters, I stand up to them,” he proclaimed.

“Newsflash, old man. You created this mess. You prolonged your family's hatred for us. It's all for nothing. No one was trying to throw your coven under the bus. We had our own shit to deal with. I don't give a shit where you stand with us. Enemies don't just develop out of thin air; you make enemies. I think you thrive off it, actually,” I told him.

I lowered my gun and laughed. “You know what? I’m wasting my time here. You brewed up a shit-storm for nothing and now there’s a mess to be cleaned up.”

“What now? Do you fear the humans will learn of your existence when Jovan and his pack go on another rampage? I wonder how much time you have left before the humans you call allies turn their backs on you.”

“You can sit there and wonder all you want. As a matter of fact, you can wonder all of eternity six feet under in a pine box.”

Jack snorted. “Sounds like you’d like me to go away, but that won’t fix all your problems.”

“I don’t fix my problems, old man. I kill them. Where can I find Jovan Zovic?”

“You think this is all about that Zovic kid now?” He laughed. “This is beyond him. He may have been one of the firsts that I converted, but he’s the one who created more. He wanted an army of them.”

“How did this start?”

“That's a most peculiar question since you were the one who overthrew the Zovics, leaving them penniless. Jovan came to me after catching wind of my work surrounding the spirit strippings, asking how he could beat you. He decided that he would be like you. Making him Caedmon or Arnou was out of the question, so I constructed a spell much like the original that created the shifters in the first place. Many elements were missing, but with the passage of time, I eventually gained them all,” Jack exclaimed.

“And what may those elements be?”

“Wolf spirits. And the blood of both Alphas. You look confused. Let me explain. One Alpha contained knowledge on how to bind a body to a spirit and the other contained knowledge about how to strip said spirit away. At first, the knowledge was hidden. Locked away by families who wished to stop some foolish prophecy they knew nothing about. Alphas of the past never cared to know. They had shunned all the witches from the coven, so what good would that knowledge do them. They were more concerned with growing pack numbers and gaining territory. Like I said, most of Caedmon history was locked away over the decades. Do you recall when Devin Caedmon acquired the ancient relics belonging to William Caedmon II?”

I swallowed. My lips parted in shock.

“By the look on your face, I think you know where this is going. When he absorbed the powers contained in the relics, he also absorbed the knowledge. Letting that knowledge fall into the hands of another Alpha wasn’t something I wanted to happen, but it happened nonetheless. When that happened, the only way to access that knowledge was through the blood of the Alpha who held it. As for your family—the Arnou branch—the men on your side had been passing down that knowledge for decades through the blood from son to son. But rather than numbers and territories, your bloodline was focused on money and power. Despite your line of work, it was often difficult for me to obtain your blood. And whenever you did spill it, those loyal to you came behind you and cleaned up shop.”

Agitation was practically seeping from me. I could feel it in the air around me. I knew Jack was drawing from it, but I couldn’t contain my frustration.

“Are you going to kill me or let me finish?” Jack asked.

“Get on with it,” I spat.

“You need to learn your manners, boy. Respect your elders,” Jack replied.

“The only respect you’ll get from me is my mercy when I deliver a quick death,” I told him.

“I like when you're angry. Us empaths feed off that shit like savages.” Jack smirked and cackled. “Where was I? Oh yes…you clean up quite nicely. We had wolf spirits. We had the blood of both Alphas. Now let's see…the powers of a Caedmon witch. Shanhah was unsuccessful in bringing back the heart of Elisa Caedmon. You and Devin threw a curveball when you joined forces to defeat my eldest daughter. So, of course, I had to improvise. I couldn't make a breed of shifters more powerful than the ones that already existed without the Caedmon witch dead, but I had come too far to abandon my work. The second most powerful witch bloodline of our time was the Osborne bloodline. Mine. I needed the heart of an Osborne witch.”

“That would mean…”

“Yes, that would mean one of my children had to die.”

“Why not you, old man? Why didn’t you die?” I asked.

Jack just laughed. “I'm the head witch in charge. I'm the man who keeps the Osborne bloodline so strong. Why would I die?”

I cringed. “You killed one of your daughters?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Don't act as if you have never spilled family blood? You ripped out the throat of your own father and here you stand looking at me like I'm the devil himself. My beloved daughter sacrificed herself in the ritual that created the first of the Converted. Trust me when I say that I lost more than I ever wanted to. All that magic. Gone. Just to create a few savage beasts to put an end to Caedmon-kind forever. But I guess it wasn't all for nothing. You see, to ensure her spirit lived on, I planted my seed inside of her that previous year in preparation for her sacrifice. That seed is still living today. And I respect you for having mercy on my child. All my children.”

“Jack Osborne, you will burn in hell.”

“Only the gods can pass judgment,” he proclaimed. “As you have probably found out, the first of the converted wolves died out soon after. They were plagued with a disease that their bodies couldn't handle. It was a good thing I kept some of the potion on ice. I added a final element to my spell. It came to me in a vision. I needed a bloodline strong enough to sustain the conversion for more than a few moons. Only two entities like that exist. Witches and members of the Other bloodline. When Jovan came to me about taking you out, it was a sign. He had to earn my trust first, so I sent him on a little obstacle course to ensure that his loyalties did not remain with you. It was fun seeing you running about seeking the person who was trying to take down your little operation. I have to give it to you though. You are determined and successful for a reason. You held your businesses together. Perhaps that's something you and Jovan have in common. You are determined but unpredictable. Jovan volunteered himself for the ritual even though the conversion might have killed him. Sure enough, he sustained the transformation for many moons. Because he is from the Other bloodline, his immunity to certain diseases transferred with his bite, so none of the wolves died off as a result of sickness.”

“You also did something else to him. Something else that transfers with their bite,” I said.

“Sounds like you had a close encounter,” Jack replied. “Have you been bitten by any chance?”

“What the fuck is transferred with the bite of a Converted?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t take the chance to make the wolves lethal to other breeds of wolves—especially yours? I already knew the converted wolves would be the weaker species, so I needed something that would give them an advantage. I made their bites lethal. When the venom takes root, the enemy will eventually succumb.”

“The cure?”

Jack laughed. “The cure?” His laughs become hysterical and devious. “The cure is death.”

“You sicken me. I don't know why you're still breathing. You have to be at least one hundred years old. Even older than that, if my facts are correct.”

“Yes, maintaining my youth was another chore in and of itself. But I am an Osborne…” he stated.

“You steal magic and vitality from your daughters.”

“I don’t steal, Arnou. I’m gifted with these things. And you’re a bit gender-biased, aren’t you? It doesn’t matter if I have daughters or sons, they still have my blood and my magic,” he replied.

“What about the women you rape? Do you steal their vitality too?”

“You shouldn’t look down on practices you don’t understand. To that end, I do have certain rules and punishments for breaking them. Look around you. You saw what you disturbed. I have over two dozen workers here. I pay them a salary, but sometimes I have a few greedy ones who decide to steal from me. Women who steal aren’t innocent, so why should they get to keep their innocence?”

“The punishment for stealing is rape? That is—”

Jack waved his hand in the air like it was nothing. ”Not to worry. I haven't had an incident like that in years. Once I demonstrate my authority, I rarely have repeat offenders. My workers are dutiful and honest. My wives are loyal to me. So are my mistresses. I provide them with everything they need. They don't have to worry about common sicknesses or diseases. They don't have to live a life in squalor with their old families. I pay a modest dowry to their parents, and in return, they're schooled and cared for. Like you, I like them young and untouched.”

I clamped my hand down on his neck, gripping him so hard, I thought I heard a bone crack.

“You’re nothing like me,” I growled.

Jack said nothing as his face turned white and I proceeded to choke the life out of him. I wanted to murder him and make him suffer at the same time.

When I released his neck, he folded over and coughed up blood.

“I’m going to burn your shit to the ground one last time. This time, you won’t be able to rebuild,” I said.

Jack lifted himself to a kneeling position, wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his hand. “But if you kill me, you’ll never know.”

“Never know what?”

“The cure for yourself? Isn’t that what you came for? My knowledge of the cure.”

I scowled again, disgusted by how much of a fucking idiot Jack Osborne was. He had just revealed there was a cure. I had no other use for him.

“Fuck your cure. And just so you know, I didn’t come here to cure myself. I came here to end you.”

“You cannot end me, Arnou. I have bested all of you for years. My creation will only ensure that you suffer until time ends. But even if you kill me, my work is infinite.”

“You really are a psychotic maniac,” I sneered.

“Well, it depends on who you ask. My mistresses love it. By the way, I’m curious…man to man…tell me how it feels when you mount that little Caedmon witch. With her legs wrapped around you, screaming for you to fuck her, rutting inside her, with all that majestic energy lingering around you. It makes you feel like the most powerful man alive, doesn’t it? It makes you feel like you’re a King. How does it feel when you pump her with your seed, knowing you’ll create little abominations? A mixture of all the bloodlines. Mutts. In your image.”

Jack caught my gaze, smirking as he realized how much rage had escalated inside me. The Converted bite at my side began festering again. Pain mixed with rage was a deadly combination. My wolf spirit stirred. My animal began to emerge. Claws pierced through my fingertips. I felt my canines dropping.

Jack continued, “But that doesn’t matter to you, does it? As long as she bends over so you can ride her like the animal you are, you have at it every single time. One last question, Arnou. Does she call you daddy?”

I lashed out, rammed my claws into Jack’s neck, and lopped off his head.

At the moment of his death, I felt his putrid energy lingering around us. Somehow, his body was still flopping around on the ground despite being decapitated. I took out my gun, pointed it at his beating heart and fired three rounds.

Blood had splattered on my face. In my eyes. On my lips. In that blood, I tasted the sweet elixir of victory. I closed my eyes, took several deep breaths, and reveled in it. A wave of nausea hit me, followed by a chilling sensation on my skin. I felt my wound tighten at my side.

After lifting my shirt, I peered down at my torso, expecting to find the bite festering and spreading, but the opposite had occurred. The bite had now completely healed and the venom that I'd previously felt lingering in my system was now gone. I tore off my blazer and shirt and tossed it to the ground in an attempt to be rid of the Osborne blood on me.

When I looked out again, my Enforcers and their crews were awaiting my instructions.

“Clean up and let’s get out of here.” I picked up Osborne’s head off the ground and started back off across the field.

“What about the women and children? And the pregnant one over there?” Dinsel asked.

“Tell them to run. There’s nothing for them here,” I said, without turning around.