“Gavin,” Gregory said again. “You have my word that if you stand down, the bloodshed will be minimal.”
Gavin moved until he stood next to me. The back of his hand brushed against mine. They seemed in awe of him. I wondered what Livingstone had told them. I wasn’t worried. I knew where his loyalty lay. He was a Bennett in all but name. Livingstone would never have him again.
He said, “Minimal.”
Gregory nodded. “Yes. Your father knows how… important these wolves are. Convince them. Show them the error of their ways. You know what he’ll do if you don’t.”
And Gavin said, “No.”
Gregory’s jaw tightened. “No?”
“No. I belong. Pack. This is my pack. Leave. Do what Carter said. Find ocean. Drown yourselves.”
“He won’t stop,” Gregory said. “You know that. All those innocent people in the town. You’re willing to risk them all for these wolves?”
Gavin flashed his eyes, orange and strong. Gregory’s expression stuttered as Gavin said, “I’m with them. Now. Forever. Carter is my mate. Pack is my pack. Touch them and I’ll eat you. I promise.”
The wolves on the other side of the wards began to mutter among themselves. Gregory curled his hands into fists. “Mate,” he said incredulously. “You’ve mated with—”
It came then. From everywhere. It rolled over us, the roar of anger from a great and terrible beast. I winced against it as the wolves before us cowered.
I felt the strength of my father. Of my Alphas. Of my pack. Of Gavin. It was bigger than any fear. Bigger than any worry. They, like the others before them, had made a mistake. They’d come here, underestimating what they’d find. Ouroboros, like Gordo had said. A circle. A snake eating itself. They were already dead; they just didn’t know it yet.
Which is why I was surprised when Gregory said, “I see,” as the sound of the beast echoed throughout the territory. “If that’s how it is, then so be it.” He turned around, and for a moment I thought they were going to leave. They couldn’t get past the wards. They were in foreign territory. We’d already killed one of their own.
I should have known better.
Gregory stopped.
The wolves before him snapped and snarled.
He said, “Oh, but there is one more thing. You see, once, before your
pack came to be as you are now, there were others. Wolves. Witches. Thomas. Abel. Richard. And Livingstone. He was the witch of this place, and he never forgot what it was, even when his magic was ripped from him. Even when he came back to himself. Even when he was bitten by an Alpha and died, only to become something more. A little god. And gods always remember.” He pulled back the sleeves of his jacket. Tattoos covered his arms. They began to glow brightly. “He gave me these marks himself. Told me one day I would know what they meant. He put everything into them. His history. They were his. And now they’re mine.”
The wards lit up in front of us as Gregory turned back around.
He raised his hands, fingers twitching.
He said, “Once a witch of Green Creek, always a witch of Green Creek. Even if the vessel has changed.”
Jessie was quick. Always. The gun was out again almost faster than I could follow.
She fired.
Her aim was true.
Or at least it would have been had the bullet not stopped right in front of Gregory’s face, inches from his right eye.
It spun in a lazy circle before it fell to the ground.
“Well, fuck,” Jessie said flatly.
There was a sharp crack as the wards shuddered.
The ground rolled beneath our feet.
I took a stumbling step back.