The professor chuckled. “Well, that’s a bit grim. Sounds like some conspiracy. Like they’ve been pulling strings and working behind the scenes. No, not exactly. I think that with them going underground, it became very difficult for them to find like-minded people who shared their distinct power and skill set. As we know, not anyone can become a witch. History tells us that ninety percent of witches are born with the power, and the other ten percent had Wiccan ancestry and could tap into the latent power with study and practice. Any witches alive today are few and far between and probably do their best to hide.”
The anchor pointed at him with a pen. “And why would they hide? What is their goal?”
The professor shook his head again, seemingly annoyed with the line of questioning. “What is their goal? To survive,of course. What else? They probably live in abject fear that something like the Inquisition is going to roll around again and truly end them. No one wants to be burned at the stake, drowned, or crushed with rocks. Surely you understand that?”
The anchor appeared to either not understand or not want to understand.
“Well, Doctor…” He pointed at a computer screen. “What we’ve seen today shows that, perhaps, we did have something to worry about. This witch, who has somehow aligned herself with the Lorenzo pack, has incredible power. It was like nothing I’ve seen. All this time, we thought that maybe, the Lorenzo wolves had some kind of advanced technology that was protecting them. Now, it seems that it was, in fact, a witch.”
Doctor Horowitz leaned on the table and interlaced his fingers, and it was obvious he was glaring at the other man.
“Chuck, I have a very bad feeling that you may be veering away from what should truly be the story. Witches aren’t gone. That’s miraculous and amazing. Also, thesepeople—if one can call them that—attacked innocent shifters who’d done nothing wrong. These terrorists need to be rounded up, arrested, and made to face the full strength of the law.”
The anchor was getting worked up. He slammed a hand on the table. “Theseshiftersare dangerous. You’ve seen what Viola Monroe has said about Maddison Sutton. She is a descendant of the werewolf king Edemas.Sheis the one who needs to be arrested and brought in before she can do more damage. The people who attacked that compound are patriots doing what needed to be done.” He was red-faced and sweating. There was so much anger in his eyes that the professor leaned away from him. Fear and confusion showed in his eyes.
Horowitz glanced off camera. “Doug? Jamie? What the hell? Is this guy for real?”
There was murmuring from behind the anchor, who spun to address the people talking to him. “No, goddamn it. It needs to be said. Everyone is too damned afraid to talk about it.”
I stared in abject shock as two security guards stepped onto the sound stage and grabbed the anchor by his arms, dragging him, screaming, off the set. The professor looked shocked and saddened as the video cut away to a commercial.
Anger boiled inside me like an inferno. It appeared we’d been right when we thought some of Viola’s followers were in higher places. A famous reporter was probably the lowest of her devotees. People everywhere who already hated us would start to believe every pack had a witch.
As I tried to calm down, I stomped to the busted-out windows and looked out on the battlefield. My breath caught in my throat at the disaster that reigned over my lands. I’d hoped to limit the bloodshed, and we’d even trained to do our best to hurt but not kill during our simulated training. That had gone out the window when our lives were on the line. At least a dozen dead bodies littered the field and streets of the pack neighborhood. Our own people were collecting the casualties from our side. In the distance, I could hear the wails and screams of grief as family members found their loved ones who had been cut down by psychotic bigots.
The ambulances were sitting outside the gates, tending to the humans who’d retreated. We hadn’t allowed any of them in to help us. They couldn’t be trusted, plus we had no clue how to let them in with Sinthy down for the count. It had been necessary, but the blood was still on our hands. There was no going back. And I was sure by tonight, some sympathetic TV channel would be showing the faces of the dead humans. There would be stories of all the good things they’d done in their lives. The charities they volunteered for, the houses they built for the poor, and thechurches they attended. Yet that didn’t change what they’d come here to do.
I was sure there had been Nazis who’d done nice things and gone to church and taken care of people. That didn’t change or erase all the terrible things they’d done to an entire race they didn’t like. Soulless evil could lurk in the prettiest and most esteemed of costumes.
The time for Viola to be the only voice the world heard was over. We needed to send a message of our own. Chills ran down my spine at the thought. Out in the field, I saw Donatello, smeared with blood and dirt, lift a body into his arms. Even from this distance, I could see the grief in his eyes. If anyone could help me get the word out, it was him. Especially now that he’d seen first-hand what Viola was capable of.
As I headed out to help with the cleanup and to try and board up the windows Sinthy’s spell had cracked, I started formulating a plan. Several of my pack rounded up the bodies of the attackers who had fallen and laid them with as much respect as we could muster by the front gate. Whenever Sinthy was back to full strength, we’d have her open a portal in the barrier so we could give the bodies to the authorities.
Thankfully, it seemed my own pack had suffered far fewer casualties than I’d initially thought. Most of the bodies I’d seen strewn about the property had been injured but not dead. Doc had been working overtime extracting bullets from legs, bracing broken bones, and stitching up cuts. While we worked, I thought more about what I was going to do. Even the sorrow of finding my fallen packmates didn’t deter me from what I was planning.
Davis, the guard at the shack, had been shot three times in the chest during the initial attack and lay dead by the gate. One of Tiago’s pack mates, a young woman named Selena, had also been killed by what looked like a silver knife wound to the stomach. Two more members of my pack had been cut downin the street close to my house. A young man named Joshua and another man close to my age, Tristan had been shot in the back. I’d known him well; he’d dated my cousin Eliza for almost a year, and we’d thought they might become mates. Instead, they’d decided just to stay friends. Seeing their pale dead faces, remembering who they’d been, hurt me deeply. It was like a metal band was wrapped around my heart and squeezed tighter with each second.
As we worked, I kept picturing Sebastian dead in my arms, his last breath hissing out past his lips. Without Sinthy and Maxwell, he would have joined these three in the pack’s cemetery. I couldn’t abide that. It was time to do what needed to be done, but I had to have the pack’s approval. I was alpha, but this was not a dictatorship. I wouldn’t do anything the others didn’t want.
With the cleanup basically done, I grabbed Gabriel by the arm. “Spread the word. Meeting at the Moon Mate building in two hours. Go.”
Gabriel, who had always been so jubilant and had fashioned himself the class clown pretty much since birth, wiped a smear of dirt off his face and shook his head sadly.
“A meeting about what, Nico? Is now really the time?”
I squeezed his arm in reassurance. “It is. I’m done fighting Viola from the shadows. It’s time to let the world know what we’re fighting against. Go on, tell everyone. I want everyone who isn’t injured there.”
Resigned, Gabriel nodded before moving off to tell everyone. I found my other siblings and had them give the word as well. By the time I strode toward the Moon Mate building, nearly the entire pack had arrived. Maddy’s fingers were twined with mine as we walked. She agreed with my plan—supported it, and I welcomed that because what I had to say was frightening. It might very well end up causing another attack.
Grabbing a chair to stand on, I stepped up on it and turned to address the gathered shifters—both my pack and those from the rescued packs.
I gestured to the area where the hardest fighting had taken place. “The royals have come into our home. They’ve hurt us and done what we never thought was possible… They’ve made us feel unsafe in the one place that was truly ours. We’ve done all that we can in the usual ways, but nothing has stopped them.
“Viola Monroe has used her voice to build a worldwide army that wants us and all of our kind dead. I want to do the same. It’s time to send a message to her and the world about exactly what has been happening. I want to tell the world the truth.
“I’m your alpha, but I will not do anything that my pack doesn’t sanction. I brought you all here to ask if you agree. Is it time to tell the world what we know? Can we let our voices be the counterweight to what Viola is saying? What do you say?”
It was short and sweet, but it got the point across. To my surprise, the pack didn’t take long to think about it. After a few seconds, people called out to me.
