HAPTER 18
Damien and I dressed with all haste while the knocking on the front door continued. And actually, it wasn't so much knocking as it was pounding.
While buckling his belt, Damien glanced toward the short hallway leading to the front door, scowling. "Just a damned second!"
I began dashing out to the kitchen. "I'm hiding. Sorry. And don't you dare tell Nick I'm here. I'm just not ready for this yet."
It turned out that the door-pounder actually wasn't Nick. It was Sam, I could tell by his distinctive deep, gravelly voice, when I tiptoed out of the kitchen after only a few moments and pressed myself flat against a living room wall, out of sight, because I'd just had to hear what was going on.
At first, Sam's voice was muffled, but then he raised it a bit or stepped inside the house, and I could hear him clearly.
"And so, you have nobody to blame but yourself for getting yourself banned from the bar. Nick asked me to inform you that as of tonight, you are no longer welcome there."
Damien scoffed. "Wow. You're really breaking my heart, Sam. Because you know just how much I love that particular bar. So much that I go there a whole two or three times a year."
"That's right, just keep up with that sarcastic attitude of yours. I just hope you know that you are really pushing Nick to the edge. You've got him to the point that he's breaking things in his own home in a fit of rage."
"Hm. Sounds like our dear golden boy Nick has some sort of an anger problem or a dark streak that none of us have ever known about. Which strikes me as somewhat funny, since it's me who's supposed to be the 'bad boy,' isn't it? And in fact, it seems to me lately, that considering his volatility, I'd make a much better chief of this town than Nick."
Sam lowered his voice to a menacing snarl, though his words were still distinct enough that I could hear them.
"You just watch yourself, Damien. The firstborn son is always the chief, and that's Nick. And that will never change. And being that's the way things are, you're lucky that he doesn't throw you out of town altogether. He's probably only resisted doing so on account of not wanting to upset Daisy, who apparently has some sort of feelings for you, for whatever misguided reason. So, consider yourself lucky. You get to stay in town.
“However, like I said, you just watch yourself. As of right now, Nick hasn't banned you from the council meetings, only because the town charter states that all children of a former chief are to be given council member status for the duration of their lives. Though if you're not careful, Nick might just decide to amend the charter for the first time in a hundred years.
“And that's not all. I'm telling you right now that most, if not all, of us shifters are loyal to our chief. If you cause Nick to physically attack you again, and if he commands us not to intervene, we won't.
“And considering that it's now safe to say that he's near-completely recovered from his injuries and is able to shift again with zero problems, and considering that he still possesses the increased strength that Alexandria gave him with her spells...this should give you pause. So, I think my warning bears repeating a third time. You watch yourself, Damien."
Almost immediately, I heard the front door close.
Throwing my coat on, I began dashing out to the foyer and met Damien halfway there. "I have to go. Sorry, but I have to go see Nick."
Damien dropped his jaw a fraction. "You have got to be kidding me. After the passion we just-"
"Yes, and I'm sorry. But if he's in such a rage that he's actually breaking things in his own cabin, I've got to go make sure he's okay. I've got to go try to calm him down. Because this just doesn't seem like him. Same with all these outbursts of violence lately when he's tried to attack you. Despite the fact that you've obviously provoked him, all this just doesn't seem like the real him.
“And I'm starting to get worried that maybe being tortured left him with some serious mental scars in addition to his physical ones. And if that's the case, he needs my help. And I'm going to be there for him."
Folding his arms across his chest, Damien scoffed. "Sounds like you still love him."
Wincing, I squeezed my eyes shut briefly. "I can't just shut it off like a switch, Damien. It's just not that easy. Not even after a night of passion with you."
"But you do love me as well, correct?"
With an actual twinge of pain in my chest, I sighed. "Yes. Yes, of course I do. So much that I...." Rubbing my aching chest, I sighed again. "It's making things harder and harder. And I understand that I'm making this situation between you and Nick worse, and that I'm the direct cause of it even, though the two of you have always fought. I realize I'm making things infinitely worse by not making an official decision between the two of you, once and for all, and I feel terrible about that. I really am very sorry. But I'm just-"
"You're waiting for your cosmic sign. I get it. You don't need to explain or apologize to me. I'll continue to wait patiently, because I know in my heart with certainty that we're meant to be together forever, Daisy, and I know in my heart with certainty that you will ultimately realize that I'm the man you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with." He paused, firelight making his charcoal gray eyes glint gold. "So, in the meantime...I'll just wait. I'll also keep my promise to you not to bait Nick.
“And that's because I love you, not because of Sam's weak threats. Because even with Nick's increased strength, I'm still pretty strong myself, and I'm confident I could take him out in a fight. Which isn't to say that I'd kill him, because despite our animosity, believe it or not, I could never kill my own brother.
“I could and would give him the beating of his life, though. So, I can't say I'm all that concerned about Sam's little warning. But I will be on my best behavior around Nick for you."
"And I really do appreciate that. But right now, I've got to go to him. I'm sorry."
Damien lifted his muscular shoulders in a shrug. "Whatever you need to do until you get your sign. But just let me tell you one more thing before you go. You're wrong if you think Nick being tortured is what started his new hair-trigger punching and smashing problem. And it's actually not new. Or, I guess maybe the violent displaying of the anger is, but...."
Damien ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, frowning, seeming to be struggling for the right words. And I didn't want to be rude or hurtful, but I really needed to get to Nick.
"What are you trying to say? I'm not trying to rush you, but I need to leave."
Damien heaved a sigh, still frowning. "I'll just say this the best I can. I hinted to Sam that Nick has a dark streak that no one's ever known about, but that's not exactly true. I've always known about it. Growing up with him, I just occasionally saw flashes of a strange certain coldness...just sometimes in the way he'd treat me. Just something that indicated that he wasn't entirely the leader-in-the-making with a heart of gold that everyone always saw him as.
“And like they still do. Everyone sees him as the leader-with-a-heart-of-gold, but I don't think he's ever changed. I can still see it in his eyes sometimes when he's around me. He has cold flashes. And maybe, though this honestly did just occur to me, maybe that's why I've been baiting him. Maybe it's been because I've wanted you to see his cold flashes. Maybe it's because I've wanted you to really get a glimpse of his true heart."
Growing increasingly irritated, both by being delayed from going to see Nick as well as by Damien's words, I snorted. "Look. I'm more than aware that you and Nick have always had some sort of a toxic sibling rivalry. And I'm sure he has treated you badly at times. But I do know Nick's true heart, and he does have a heart of gold. Which isn't to say that he's perfect...none of us are...but he does have a pure, good heart. That's part of why I love him. That's part of why I'm having difficulty deciding-"
"Listen to me, Daisy. He does have a true dark streak. And I'm not saying he's pure evil, but it's there. He has cold flashes. Trust me about this. Look for them. You'll find them. It may help you if you see one."
Huffing, I turned and began heading for the door. "Goodnight. I'll talk to you later."
I felt like I was the one having a "cold flash," but I couldn't help it. I couldn't help but feel as if Damien was trying to poison my mind against Nick. Which wasn't exactly the definition of waiting patiently. And waiting patiently with the confidence he seemed so full of all the time.
However, I completely believed he was sincere about not baiting Nick anymore, and for this I was glad. If he could keep to his promise, that is.
It was now well past midnight, and while I walked to Nick's palatial cabin, the main lane that more or less connected half the cabins in town in a circuit was dark and quiet.
After a few minutes of walking in the moonlight, it struck me as strange that in light of the wolf attacks, Damien hadn't insisted on accompanying me, at least to within sight of Nick's cabin. But then again, I figured, it was possible that he was accompanying me, creeping along through the trees bordering the lane on the inside track.
And the more I thought about it, the more this seemed likely. And just before I reached Nick's, I came to a sudden, dead stop and heard just a split-second of faint rustling in the trees after I did so.
I turned in the direction of the darkened trees where I'd heard the rustling. "Hello, Damien. That is, if you are Damien. Which I'm hoping you are, and not a wolf."
After a long moment, I heard his voice.
"This is love, Daisy. I'm safely escorting you right into my rival's arms. Just think about that while you're with him."
Not needing to be stealthy any more, Damien began striding through the trees in the direction of his cabin, his feet crunching in brittle brown leaves on the ground.
Not even a minute later, I let myself into Nick's without even knocking. "Nick? Nick, are you home? Are you...."
I was going to say all right, but I didn't finish the thought. I'd stepped on something crunchy, though it definitely wasn't leaves; it was glass. And lots of it. I looked up and saw two large vases missing from the entryway table.
"Nick?"
I stepped over the glass and began making my way through the ground floor, calling his name. I finally heard a return call from a little study-type room at the end of the hallway, though the sound of the call did little to assure me that Nick was okay. He sounded weak, tired.
And when I dashed into the study and saw him, he looked that way, too. Holding a glass of what appeared to be whiskey, he sat slumped back in a padded oak chair by the desk, frowning.
Though once he saw me, he perked up a little and sat up straighter. "What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"
Realizing I couldn't exactly tell him what I'd overheard Sam say without revealing that I'd been at Damien's, I crouched down beside his chair. "Everything's fine. I heard there was some trouble at the bar tonight. And I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
He knocked back a swallow of his drink, which, now that I could smell it, definitely was whiskey. "Well, thank you. And I'm fine."
His words had a definite slur to them.
After putting a hand on the side of my face, he pressed a kiss against my cheek and then leaned back in his chair again. "I'm fine."
"Well, something about the smashed vases at the door tells me that you're not quite fine. So, do you want to talk about it? Do you want to talk about...Damien?"
Turning his gaze from my face to the wall, he clenched his strong jaw briefly before speaking. "Sure, I'll talk about Damien. Here are my comments. I wish he were dead. I wish the wolves would attack him and kill him."
Stunned, I couldn't answer for a moment or two.
"That's a terrible thing to say. And I don't think you mean that."
"I do mean it."
"But he's your brother, Nick. Your own brother."
Scowling, his dark blond brows nearly colliding, he turned his gaze back to my face. "And he's been a thorn in my side since the day he was born. And now, he wants to take you away from me. I have no love for him, Daisy. And I'm not kidding. If he were attacked right in front of my face, I wouldn't lift a finger to help him. I'd let him be killed."
Appalled, I thought about what Damien had said, about Nick having a dark streak. I opened my mouth to ask Nick if he was really, truly serious about what he was saying. But before I could even speak, I spied a whiskey bottle behind the small desk lamp. And I saw that it was nearly empty.
Heaving a sigh, somewhat of relief, I took his hands and began pulling him up from the chair. "Nick, you're drunk. Very, I'm just guessing. And I think it's making you say things you don't really mean. So, off to bed you go. I'll even walk you there."
He suddenly got a little gleam in his deep green eyes. "Now, that's an offer I can't refuse."
I rolled my eyes, but smiling. "I didn't say I'd get into bed with you; I said I'd walk you there. Understand me, mister?"
Rising from the chair, he gave me the tiniest hint of a grin. "Yes, ma'am."
On the way to his bedroom, we had to make a pit stop in one of the ground floor bathrooms so he could be sick. At his insistence, I waited outside, sympathetic but with my heart light as air. For a second, I'd been worried that maybe Damien was right, that Nick had some strange little dark streak inside of him. And now, as he retched loudly for the fourth or fifth time, I knew that couldn't possibly be true. Just like I'd thought. The truth was that he was maybe just a mean drunk.
After I'd gotten him into bed, took his heavy brown boots off, and covered him with a blanket, he seemed to fall asleep instantly. With a twinge in my heart for the second time that night, I spent a few moments studying several small scars on his face, reminders of the torture he'd endured for me. The torture he'd endured to prevent me from falling into Ezra's hands. Leaning over the bed, I planted a kiss on his forehead. "Sleep well, Nick."
Over the next week or so, I didn't see him, even once. I didn't see Damien, either. The wolves were continuing to attack in groups of several dozen, and Nick and Damien both had their hands full trying to stave them off and defend the town.
Many council meetings to plan an attack on Howler's Creek were had, none of which I attended, though Katie did, and she reported that Damien was unfailingly civil and courteous to Nick.
He was keeping his promise to me. Happy about this tentative new peace between him and Nick, I busied myself with continued work on the museum, which was nearly ready to open.
Little did I know those days were just the calm before the storm.
*
It had been decided that Nick would lead nearly every single shifter in Crystal Falls into Howler's Creek with the intent of taking out Ezra and every single one of his thousands of wolves. A full-scale attack like this was an idea that had been discussed before, though it had always been shot down because of fears about the many women and children in Howler's Creek being caught in the shifter crossfire, so to speak.
But now, things were different. With Claire being a refugee from Howler's Creek, she was able to give Nick and the council members’ very detailed information about the wolves' habits and schedules. She revealed that they all met in a great hall once a month for a meeting while all the women and children remained at home, making this time the perfect opportunity for an attack.
And the day that the monthly meeting would be taking place was the following day, Monday.
So, on Sunday, Nick and the couple of thousand shifters under his command prepared for the attack. At dawn, about a thousand of them surrounded our town in a wide ring in order to keep any wolf spies out during the preparations, since obviously, Nick wanted to attack them without them seeing it coming.
Once Nick's shifters who'd be on guard patrol all morning were in place, he and the rest of his dragon shifters met in the large clearing behind his cabin and did dry runs of their attack strategy and formations. Early in the afternoon, the shifters who'd been on guard patrol all morning traded places with the shifters in the clearing so that everyone had a chance to prepare.
Everything was going just fine. Or so I thought. But when Katie came tearing into my cabin, eyes wide, my heart jumped into my throat.
Since my cabin was near-ish to the clearing, we'd spent all morning and early afternoon making lunches to bring to Nick, Damien, Sam, and about ten dozen other men. Katie had done the deliveries while I'd cleaned up, and she was now returning from her last run. But she didn't have any empty canvas lunch sacks with her, indicating that she'd left the clearing in a hurry and that something was seriously wrong. And more than that, the near-crazed look in her jewel-green eyes told me something was seriously wrong.
She braked to a stop in the kitchen and put her hands on her knees, chest heaving. "Uncle Marshall told Nick he saw you leaving Damien's cabin late at night about a week ago...it was a weird accident that he said it...or it seemed to be...because he backpedaled like he hadn't meant to say it, but...anyway. He did.
“Nick suddenly flew into an absolute rage, and he just started wailing on Damien, and he told Sam and some others not to interfere, so they didn't, and then Nick and Damien both shifted, and now they're both out there battling, and...." Katie paused to take a big gulp of air. "I think you'd better get out there. I'm afraid Nick's going to literally kill Damien."
Heart pounding, I dropped the soapy metal tray I'd been rinsing, and it clanged on the floor.
Still gasping for air, Katie grabbed one of my hands and began dragging me out of the kitchen. "Come on. Shoes. Coat. Gotta go right now."
She hardly needed to drag me. After sprinting out to the foyer, I jammed on my shoes, threw on my coat, and we were out the door. We didn't speak on the way to the clearing. We were running much too hard for any conversation. We were running much too hard to even grab more than the occasional gulp of air. All I could think about was what Katie had said about Nick literally killing Damien, and what Damien had told me about Nick having a dark streak.
By the time we made it to the clearing, my lungs burned. And once I took a moment to survey the scene that had at least a thousand shifters looking skyward, my eyes filled with tears.
High in the air with his mighty green wings slowly flapping, Nick had Damien in a choke-hold and seemed to be looking directly into his eyes while he continued squeezing. Damien hung completely limp, his charcoal-gray wings at his sides and his long tail not even twitching. His enormous scaly head lolled to one side.
I turned to the shifter nearest me, which was Sam, and grabbed him by the shirt. "Do something! Stop this!"
"I can't, Daisy. I'm sorry. Nick is our chief, and he-"
"I don't care! He's going to literally kill him!"
With a little snort and a shake of his head, his expression resembling one a person might wear when dealing with an unreasonable child, Sam peeled my fingers from his shirt. "No, he won't. Nick won't literally kill him. He just wants to blow off some steam and teach him a lesson."
I glanced up at the sky, where Nick was still choking Damien, and then looked back at Sam. "No. No, he's going to literally kill him. See, Damien told me that Nick has a dark streak-"
"He does not." Actually cracking a smile, Sam shook his head. "He's got a bit of a temper when it comes to Damien lately, but-"
"But just listen. Damien told me that about Nick having a dark streak, and then the very same night, when Nick was drinking, Nick told me that if he ever saw Damien get attacked by wolves, he'd just watch. He'd just watch the wolves kill him, and he wouldn't do a thing. He said he wishes Damien were dead. He said he wishes the wolves would attack him and kill him."
With his chocolate-brown eyes twinkling, Sam cracked another smile. "Yeah. Drunk talk. I'm honestly sure he did say that. He said just about the same to me. He can be a mean, angry drunk when it comes to Damien.
“But now, unless you ladies packed any alcohol in those delicious lunches of yours, which I definitely did not see, Nick's not drunk. He has his wits about him, and he's the same fair, just, kindhearted leader he's always been."
I glanced at the sky, where Nick was now shaking a still-limp Damien. "Does it seriously look like he's being fair, just, and kindhearted right now? Sam, wake up! Do something!"
Katie wedged herself between Sam and me, her gaze on the sky, frowning. "Sam, I agree. You need to get up there. Fast. You need to stop this." After watching for another moment, she suddenly whipped her face back toward Sam. "He really looks like he is literally going to kill him."
"No, he's not. He's just-"
"Yes, he is!" Katie actually stomped her foot. "Don't you see? He's choking him unconscious so that he can stab Damien through the heart and then through the eye...killing him!"
Katie's words made me dizzy with dread and terror. I knew I had to get someone to help Damien, and right away. But I knew that help wasn't going to come from Sam.
After cupping my hands around my mouth, I shouted at all the hundreds of men standing around, their faces to the sky. "Please! Anyone! Help Damien! Please! I'm begging you! Just go up there and break them up!"
A few men glanced back at me, their faces fairly expressionless, before turning their attention back to the sky. And just then, I spotted Claire and Eric, standing maybe twenty feet to my left on the outside of a tight cluster of onlookers. Claire, who held several canvas lunch sacks in addition to Lucy, was glancing from me to Eric, her expression pained.
Immediately, I sprinted over to them. "Claire! Eric! Eric, please help Damien. Please!"
When I reached him, he moved his broad shoulders in a shrug, though his hazel eyes radiated sympathy and pain. "I'm sorry, but I can't. Nick told us not to interfere, and I can't go against an order from the chief."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to shake him. A misty, icy light rain began falling, but it did little to cool the fiery lava flowing through my veins. I glanced up at the cloudy sky again, where Nick was now shaking Damien like a rag doll with his long claws still locked around his throat.
I looked at Eric again, fighting an ever-increasing urge to take him by the shoulders and scream at him. "You have to break this up. Please! He is going to kill him. He's not just letting some steam off. He wants him dead."
Frowning hard, Eric didn't respond, and I continued. "You're actually going to just sit back and watch a murder? You're actually going to just sit back and watch? This isn't entertainment, you know. This is sick! This is sick if you're just going to sit back and watch him kill Damien, Eric!"
Rocking Lucy, who was somehow, improbably, fast asleep, Claire suddenly spoke, her gaze on Eric. "She's right. I can feel it in my gut that Nick's not messing around. Right before they flew up, he had a look in his eyes that Ezra gets before he rips one of his men to shreds. And this shouldn't be happening here. This isn't Howler's Creek.
“This is supposed to be a better place. This is supposed to be a place where the leader doesn't execute his brother in front of a crowd. This is why I risked my life to bring Lucy here. And now...Eric, now are you going to let someone be killed in cold blood while she's here on the ground, sleeping peacefully, thinking that she's in a good, safe place?"
With his dark brows furrowed, Eric glanced at the sky, where Nick was still shaking Damien, breathing fire in his face now. "I could be expelled from the community. Nick may order me out."
Claire didn't even hesitate. "That's fine. Lucy and I will go with you. Saving a life is worth risking expulsion."
After looking at her for a long moment, Eric nodded. "Give me room so I can shift."
I heaved a sigh of relief, except the sound was actually more of a cry. "Thank you, Eric. Thank you."
But just then, before he could even shift, a loud collective gasp rose from the crowd. Praying to God it wasn't too late, praying I wouldn't see that Nick had already stabbed Damien through the heart and eye, I looked up. And what I saw wasn't at all what I'd been expecting to see. With his enormous dark gray wings feebly flapping, Damien was making a weak attempt to claw at Nick. And then suddenly, he seemed to get a tremendous burst of energy, and he actually did claw Nick.
He slashed the side of his face well enough to draw blood. Enough blood that it was clearly visible even to those of us on the ground, at least a hundred feet away. It poured down the side of Nick's face. This wound seemed to make Nick lose his hold on Damien, who was now flailing wildly, clawing at Nick's thick arms.
It was only mere moments before Damien broke free from Nick's hold and shook him off. And from that point on, he was like a frenzied madman. Or, mad dragon, as the case was. He flew back, massive dark wings beating the air, before charging Nick, breathing a jet of fire directly on him. Next, he slashed him with his razor-sharp claws, opening a great gaping wound along Nick's side.
Eric did a brief nervous chuckle. "So, maybe I'll just stay on the ground here. Unless I'm needed to go back up, but to save Nick's life."
Damien slashed Nick's side again, and then his face. Seeming a bit dazed, Nick sank a few dozen feet with blood pouring from his side. Damien followed him down and grabbed him by the throat, exactly the same as Nick had held him. He shook Nick, making his head snap back, before holding him still to breathe a jet of fire in his bloodied face.
Several men nearby began murmuring in low voices. I picked up a few words and got the idea that everyone was wondering if the fight should now be broken up.
Scoffing, I turned in the direction of the murmuring men. "Oh, now you think the fight should be broken up. Now you do. But when Damien was about to be killed, it was fine. Well, guess what? I've heard that Nick said 'no interfering,' and I think no interfering means no interfering, regardless of who's winning or losing."
Just then, Claire gasped. "By the treeline. By the treeline over by the woods. Wolves. Thousands of them. Just look."