gripping this section of the world. How could I not appreciate your contributions to the state of things?”
“This had to happen. You know that, right?”
Randolph’s only answer was a growl masked beneath a steam-laden exhalation.
“Change is good all ‘round,” Liam said in a more relaxed voice that dripped with his cockney brogue. “Our mistake was letting the Skinners get too comfortable, especially in this neck of the woods. Even the Travelers have had too much time to collect themselves and figure new ways to put a hurt on the likes of us. As for the other Full Blood coming here, perhaps that can work to our advantage.” Lowering his voice as well as his head, he said, “The Amriany are expecting to find me or my new pack, and I won’t disappoint. It’s doubtful this generation has even met you. That is, unless you’ve made a trip across the pond within the last few decades?”
“I haven’t.”
“There you are, then. I set ‘em up. You knock ‘em down. We almost took over a continent that way, remember?”
Randolph did remember. His crystalline eyes narrowed as all those screams echoed through his mind. Before he tried to silence them, another sound caught his attention. Liam heard it as well because he angled his head to point his eye in that direction.
Lyssa darted between the trees, running close to the ground with effortless grace that seemed like a dance compared to a werewolf’s powerful gait. She veered to the north, circled around the spot where the other three figures were gathered, and then approached the Full Bloods to come to a stop in front of Liam. She wasn’t even breathing heavily when she said, “We’ve spoken to packs in Florida and Louisiana. There are members from both who will join you so long as you change them the way you did with me and Max.”
“How far can we trust them?”
“For what you have in mind, all the way.”
Liam glanced over to Randolph and got a response that would have gone completely unnoticed by anyone who didn’t know exactly what to look for. Looking back to the Mongrel, he asked, “Where’s Max?”
“Trying to find a pack of wanderers not far from here. With you two so close, they’re probably trying to get to safer ground, so he wants to catch up with them before they’re entrenched.”
“Tell me,” Randolph said. “Can you pick up the scent of anything apart from the ones who are within your sight at the moment?”
“Like who?” Lyssa asked.
“Just tell me what you can find.”
She humored him by taking an exaggerated sniff, but quickly snapped her nose toward the east and sniffed some more. Her breaths became almost frantic as she pulled in short gulps of air that were drawn all the way down to the back of her throat and let out through her mouth. When she looked back to Randolph, she said, “There are more Full Bloods coming. The scent is too far east to be over dry land, so it must be on a ship or … I don’t know but they are coming.”
Although Randolph was content to study her carefully, Liam wasn’t so passive. “How long did you know about this? When did you pick up on the scent?”
“I’ve smelled nothing but Full Bloods for days!” she said while taking a step back. “Your scents are everywhere, mixed with everything and spread across the country, thanks to all the running you’ve been doing. Why do you think the Mongrel packs have scattered?” Three shapes huddled in the nearby darkness; Kawosa and two Half Breeds. She started to look back at them, but quickly averted her eyes. “And then there’s him. Him being in the open air makes everything different. He’s one of us, but not. One of you, but not. He’s everything and nothing. How could you not know that?”
“I know who Kawosa is,” Randolph said. “I know
“He is Ktseena,” she hissed. “If you knew that, you should have known to leave him wherever he’s been trapped all these years. I don’t know how Lancroft managed to put him in a cage, but Max thinks …”
When she became too frightened to continue, Liam bent down to one knee and leaned forward. “Go on. Tell me what Max thinks.”
“Max thinks he may not have been captured at all. Ktseena could very well have allowed Lancroft to think he’d been captured just so he could gain the Skinner’s confidence.”
“Why would he do that?” Randolph asked.
“If even a handful of the legends about him are true, there’s no way for us to make sense of what he does or why. I’ve only been told a few of the stories, but they all say Ktseena would help no one but himself.”
“There are legends about me,” Randolph pointed out. “There are legends about Liam. There are legends about your kind as well as the wretches. The only difference between legends and frightened rumor is the amount of time that’s passed since the tale was first told.”
“So you don’t believe the legends about him?”
“I believe what I can put together with my own senses,” Randolph said. Leveling a firm glare upon the Mongrel, he added, “You do not need to deal with Kawosa. If you do the jobs you’ve been given, you will get the rewards you’ve been promised.”
“And what if you cannot control him?”
“Then the situation is well out of your hands, Mongrel. Best to enjoy the scraps we throw you and live to spread more of your precious legends another day.”
Liam stood up in the baggy clothes he’d stolen and told her, “Now that the Skinners have found Lancroft’s weapons and the Amriany have come to these shores, we’re going to need more to stand behind us. Kawosa agrees.”
“He’s the first of the deceivers,” Lyssa replied. “Every word from his mouth has an equal chance of being the truth or a lie.”
“The words he speaks to humans aren’t worth the air they float on,” Liam pointed out. “He is also the first shapeshifter and owes nothing to humans. Don’t lose sight of that.”
Lyssa cringed, but her question was important enough for her to push through her trepidation. “And why would he treat Full Bloods any differently?”
“Because,” Liam said proudly and without a twitch, “we’re his favorites.”
She’d been around him long enough to know that was all she was going to get. When Kawosa barked at the Half Breeds and stood up on his hind legs, she hopped back and then scampered away.
“I should keep an eye on her,” Liam said. “Make certain that she or the other one don’t get any big ideas in those pointed little heads of theirs.”
“Fine. Off with you, then. I want a word with the old one.”
Liam jogged after the Mongrel, allowed his upper body to fall forward and shifted into his four-legged form before his front paws hit the dirt. After that, a few powerful leaps carried him out of sight.
Striding to the spot where Kawosa had been, Randolph almost lost sight of the solitary figure several times. The figure clad in tattered rags didn’t fade away so much as blend in with everything around him. When the wind bent the trees, Kawosa swayed in the same rhythm. When light from the sky or the nearby town shifted to make the shadows lurch, he matched those movements as well. For one such as Randolph, it was unsettling to watch. “You truly do enjoy your work, don’t you?” he asked.
“The Half Breeds have been set loose as you asked,” Kawosa replied.
“Were they changed?”
“They are living sculptures already. I was able to make them into something that would be close enough to suit your purposes.”
“You’ve been very helpful, Kawosa. I’m surprised.”
“So far, our purposes seem to be more or less the same. And the ones I don’t share, I find … interesting.” Gazing in the direction the Half Breeds had bolted, Kawosa added, “They’re up to your task and they’ll remain loyal.”
“Are you certain of that? The wretches aren’t exactly the sort to be reasoned with.”
“I didn’t reason with them. They act on instinct.” Shifting his mouth into something that could have been a grin or a snarl, he added, “So I rewrote their instincts.”
“Will it last?”
“No, but it will hold long enough for them to complete their hunt. Your friend is plotting against you, you know.”
