Chapter 28: Evolution

I lift my head and sniff the breeze, my tracking nose still tainted by the scent of revenants. But in this instance, I know it will serve me well. Magic moves around me in the quiet, snow-bound forest, witches of the Council forming a semi-circle, in an attempt to flush out our prey.

Femke's mind touches mine, foreign and cool but welcome. Any luck?

I have his trail, I send as the first whiff of the fleeing revenant carries to me. A few miles ahead, from the taste of him.

She releases me, the line tightening around me. I ghost through the trees in full wereform, the snow soft under my paws, the fresh fall powdering around me from the cloud-darkened sky. The forest feels eerily silent, no creatures stirring, birds long since flown for cover. I've never felt a woodland so quiet, as though this isn't a real track of trees at all, but some concoction of a movie studio or even a dream.

My tongue swipes over my muzzle, my mouth watering in protest to the growing scent of the revenant we hunt. I sense no power in him, as though he is flawed in design, a normal human-the most common of revenants, if they can be called common-the source of the scent. Could that be the key to the failure of made werewolves, the lack of magic? And why it seems to be so often normals who become revenants? I've never heard of a vampire or witch falling victim, though I don't claim to know everything about revenants. Is the infection only active in those without power for some reason? I don't have time to ponder these questions, not while I feel him up ahead, closer than I expected.

My mistake. His scent isn't as strong as those in the morgue because he yet lives. I signal to Femke as I feel him shift, only a few hundred yards ahead. I have him.

Well done. She allows me to stay with her as she talks to her witches. Charlotte has point. Follow her lead. And whatever you do, keep him alive this time. We need answers.

I growl softly into the dead air, the dusting of fat flakes on my fur making me shiver. My claws trace parallel slashes in the snow as I ease forward, ready to attack. I'm so certain the revenant is prepared to pounce, my hackles rise, every muscle in my body poised to fight back.

It's almost a letdown as I circle a huge tree and find him, panting and whimpering, in the snow. He bites at his lower lip, blood running from his mouth, his hands curved into misshapen versions of claws, both feet pawed, but his legs intact. He looks up at me with a snarl, wolf teeth in a human mouth, his fear far clearer than it should be.

Where is his insanity? The loss of soul, the dark evil I've come to expect? He turns from me, tries to pull himself away, whimpering louder as he claws at the snow.

Magic stirs beside me, Femke appearing in a rush of power, her pale face pink in points on her high cheeks. She stares, eyes wide, hand extended, a large ball of blue fire ready to fly. I feel them close in, her witches, as the revenant collapses into the snow, sobbing openly now.

Femke glances at me, gaze wild. "This isn't what I thought it would be," she says.

I shake my head. "Nor I. Something isn't right." I crouch in the snow, reach out one paw and touch his foot. He twitches and jerks away from me, huddling, half-naked, a soft howl rising from his chest. "He shouldn't be acting this way." The image of the ravening insanity of the revenant I encountered as a child fades as I take in this man's terror and hurt. "I have no idea what's going on, but he's not a real revenant. At least, not of the kind we weres are accustomed to."

Femke nods. "Could they be getting closer to their goal?" She refers to the sorcerers we assume are behind this. "Is this the evolution of revenants?"

I stand and sniff the air again, sensing something, but not certain what. I need to tell her about Caine, but as I look down at this damaged normal, I begin to doubt myself. If the sorcerers have already perfected their technique with Caine and his people, why is this mess of a man lying in the snow in Siberia?

Am I wrong? Is Caine's taint something entirely different?

I gesture at the weeping creature before me. "Whatever the case," I say, "we must investigate further."

Femke squeezes my shoulder. "Agreed," she says. "And at least this one we can take alive."

I have no time to react, nor do the gathered witches, when two werewolves bound into view, scattering snow in every direction. I recognize Roman and Viveca, realize then they were missing from the throne room earlier when I spoke to Caine. They are on top of the screaming normal before I can do anything to stop them. Roman's arm rises as Femke shouts at him to stop, falling as her whip of magic crackles through the air.

Too late. Blood gushes, Roman flying backward, his talons sending a spray of crimson over the snow as he hurtles away from the body, impacting a tree. Viveca finishes the job, her teeth tearing out the man's throat before she bounds to her brother and stands over him, snarling.

Femke's fury makes her look like an ice queen, one of the old Norse warrior goddesses come to life. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Viveca continues to growl as Roman shakes his head. "Our duty," he snarls back. His dull eyes land on me. "No werewolf shall suffer a revenant to live."

Old law. He's quoting old law. To me. I want to tear him apart as he has the dead man before me. But I can't. I have no ground to stand on. Femke turns to me, trembling with rage, but I shake my head at her.

"Correct," I snap.

She tosses her hands, takes a moment to collect her temper before pointing a shaking finger at Roman and Viveca. "And you two are here just in case something like this happens?"

I scowl at them, shaking off the shock of the last minute, the scent of blood and viscera drowning out everything as the stench of dead revenant rises from the steaming body in the snow.

"We were alerted a revenant was sighted," Roman says while Viveca glares at me. "It is our duty and our honor to serve."

There is nothing I can say or do in response to that. "Your new masters brought you here, I take it?" The Dumonts. They had to be involved.

Roman shrugs, stands while the gathered Enforcers loom with ominous anger. "We did your job for you," he says.

"You went against the will of the European Council," Femke shoots back.

Roman bares his teeth at her. "Werenation business," he says with a hint of spite.

Femke gestures her Enforcers back. "Considering this isn't were territory," she snaps, "I want you out of here. Now. And if I ever see your ass out and about again, I'll skin it myself."

Roman and Viveca bound off with one final glare for me. I let them go, though I should follow them and find out how they got here. Who transported them?

"That," Femke almost spits the words out, "was a setup if ever I saw one."

I nod, glum now, turning from the dead body, no longer willing to look. "Agreed," I say. "There are things you need to know."

We stand in the snow as I inform her of everything I suspect, including Caine and the Dumonts, while the Enforcers clean up the mess. The air turns cold, the fat flakes spinning to tiny strikes of ice. But neither Femke nor I move a muscle as I tell her all I fear.

By the time I'm done, my guilt is at war with my need to act. I've broken my grandfather's orders again. But I know from the anger in Femke's eyes, I've done the right thing. We must learn to work together if we are to survive these challenges.

"Thank you," she says, though her tone still carries her temper. "I take it you weren't to tell me any of this."

I don't respond. I've betrayed Oleksander enough already.

Femke finally sighs out her frustration, shivering and hugging herself inside her heavy black robe.

"Now that I know," she says, "I might be able to guard against them next time." No accusations in her voice, and I'm grateful. She turns, gestures to one of her Enforcers. "Track how those two werewolves traveled here," she says before turning back to me. The black-robed witch dashes off through the snow in their wake as Femke speaks. "Can you come back with me, to Oxford? I think you're aware this body is very different."

I nod, glad to have this moment over. "Of course." Maybe I can uncover the truth, now I know something isn't adding up in these new revenants. But I'm not holding my breath.



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