Shards of Hope (Psy-Changeling 14)

“Adjoining lands?” Packs did occasionally buy land parcels not immediately connected to their main territory. If that was the case, the Alliance might simply be making valid business decisions that happened to run up against the needs of the packs involved.

Riaz’s nod took that possibility off the table. “The packs involved all had informal agreements in place with the landowners, but the Alliance came in with much higher bids.”

“How long’s this been going on?”

“Past month. The first pack thought it was an isolated—if asshole—move, but then they heard about it happening to another pack. Long story short, the alphas started talking and, so far, five have reported the same land grab.”

Hawke scowled at what appeared to be a deliberate and calculated attempt to fence changeling packs in, stifling their natural growth. “Alliance trying to pick a fight?” Business was business, no matter how ruthless, but this felt more like passive aggression.

“Sure looks like it.” Riaz chuckled as the first snowball was thrown and the peaceful scene erupted into laughing chaos. “The weird thing is that none of the land is of any use to the Alliance. Most of it is nowhere near a city or any of their business interests. Even if they intend to subdivide and sell it off, they won’t make back the ridiculous amounts they’ve paid.”

Hawke’s instincts were starting to bristle. “You talk to Bo?” Riaz had a good line of communication with the Human Alliance security chief, who they all knew was the effective leader of the Alliance.

“Not yet. Wanted to run this by you first.”

“Tell me your take on it.” Hawke’s lieutenants held that position for a reason; each was capable of independently making major decisions.

“I think Bo’s smart enough to pick on smaller, weaker packs if he did want to initiate a fight, but I also think he’s too smart to waste his resources on a stupid game. Especially when the Alliance is finally starting to find its footing again after the mess created by their previous leadership.”

Hawke agreed—but he also remembered Bo making a certain other stupid decision in changeling territory. His wolf didn’t yet trust the younger male not to make the same error a second time.

“Make contact,” he told Riaz. “If the Alliance is trying to play ‘my dick is bigger,’ remind them those small packs have big friends.” SnowDancer might not be allied with these particular packs, but as the biggest pack in the country, it accepted a certain responsibility when it came to matters like this. “I’ll speak to Lucas, find out if this is isolated to wolf territories.”

He had an answer within two hours—the DarkRiver alpha had just received a disturbingly similar report from a bewildered deer herd that had all but signed on the dotted line for some grazing land when the Alliance swooped in. A little further investigation and Luc discovered the Alliance was playing its money-wasting game across the country.

“I’ve got confirmed reports from at least three nonpredatory packs,” the leopard alpha said over the comm, his face as grim as Hawke’s own mood and his green eyes more feline than human. “A small wildcat pack is currently attempting to get in touch with a landowner who was supposed to accept an offer today.” The other male’s voice held a low-level growl as he added, “He hasn’t called them back so I’m guessing that takes the tally up to four on my end.”

Hawke’s claws pricked at his fingertips. “If Bo doesn’t have a fucking good explanation for this, I will personally rip his head from his body.”

“Get in line, wolf.”

•   •   •

FAR from SnowDancer territory, an Arrow stood in the shadows of a building that fronted a shimmering white sand beach. Blake made sure to be out of sight of the cameras pointed at the crowd as investigators worked the scene of a gruesome stabbing that had taken place in the dark hours of early morning. His Arrow training stood him in good stead here—only the stupid got caught. He was a phantom.

A phantom who’d bathed in blood.

Part of him was concerned by his descent into bloodlust. His plan had been to follow the slender and aesthetically pleasing human male, incapacitate him silently and quickly, then transport his target to an abandoned factory where he could play with him as long as the male lasted.

It was the target’s fault he’d lost control. The human had seen him and started to run—it was in the struggle to bring the male down that Blake had nicked him with the blade.

The smell of blood had overwhelmed; he’d had to have more.

Afterward, his shoulder and arm had hurt—still twinged now. He was also covered in blood, but the black of his uniform hid that, as his gloves had protected him from the man’s clawing hands as he fought for his survival. The target had never managed to reach Blake’s uncovered face.

That face was now clean, wiped off. As for his bloodied uniform, he’d stashed a spare change of clothes at the factory. No one would ever know of the breakdown in his discipline. It had been an aberration in any case. He’d simply gone too long without exercising his natural urges.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Chapter 19

ZAIRA PACED THE corridor outside the infirmary in an effort to reorder her increasingly disjointed discipline. An hour after breakfast and, with nothing but time on their hands, Aden had offered to teach a hand-to-hand combat class to a small group of RainFire soldiers, while Zaira had done the same for a group of older trainees.

She’d been impressed by the teenagers. Though they laughed and spoke to one another far more than Arrow trainees, they also paid close attention and had a distinct advantage when it came to sheer physical coordination. Not that she couldn’t put each and every one on the ground, but she hadn’t had to—it turned out these predatory changelings didn’t make the mistake of judging her weak simply because she was small and female.