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The truth was, Maddox had no means of summoning Candy. He had been telling the truth when he told his maker he had no control over her. He had no control over her, because he had not made her. It was simply the perfect excuse to get out of the mansion and out from the constant surveillance of Ray and his little minion Chauvelin.
Candy’s motivations were somewhat guessable, however. She had attacked Gideon, but not killed him. Mad guessed she intended on feeding on him the same way a goat might browse a tree, all but killing it, then returning later to nearly finish the job again. Few, if any trees could withstand those of the caprine persuasion for long.
He felt a great burden of guilt when it came to Candy and her family. She had wanted to reveal her identity to William, but Mad had told her not to. He’d stood in the way of a piece of the puzzle his pup had been missing his entire miserable life, and though he had done so out of the desire to protect him, it had caused a great deal of pain. In trying to protect Will from the truth, he had destroyed their relationship and made Will a reckless pawn easily manipulated by Gideon. He could only hope this new turn of events represented the chance to rekindle his relationship. Maddox had never stopped loving Will and would never stop loving Will. His passion and adoration were cold, but constant.
Maddox was deep in thought as he left Gideon’s chamber, which meant nearly tripping over the dark, short form of Chauvelin on his way to the front door. It became instantly clear that Chauvelin considered this an ambush. He had a particularly malevolent glint in his eye and the nerve to continue to block Maddox’s path.
“Remember when you crucified me and left me in a room of rotting bodies?”
“I remember,” Maddox said, his eye darkening at his inquisitor. “The real question is, do you remember?”
Chauvelin took an involuntary half-step backward, losing his nerve almost immediately. He had gotten brave of late by coat-tailing on Ray’s position in the house. “I have allies now. Powerful ones. I am the mate of the first begotten son of the Maker.”
Maddox smirked in an amused and almost pitying way.
“That excites you, doesn’t it, little Chauvelin. You think Ray has not taken lovers before you? You think he will not take others after? You think you are special by merit of who you rut?” Maddox laughed softly. “If you believe it was cruel when I crucified you, you are yet to understand the depths of Raymond’s depravity, and what he will inevitably do to you when he tires of your spineless bootlicking. You will beg for crucifixion, Chauvelin.”
Maddox took a bold step forward through Chauvelin, who lost the rest of his nerve and dashed out of the way.
5
“So. What now?”
It was midday. Lorien was asleep in the cabin, avoiding the sun. Henry and Will and Ivan were sharing some game they’d hunted and cooked over the fire. The world smelled like smoke and meat and Will liked it that way.
“I’m going my own way,” Will said.
“What does that mean?” Henry asked the question as if he had some right to. In the past, Maddox had given Henry authority over Will, but that was the past, and Mad no longer had the right to give anyone authority over William. He was done serving, done bowing, done scraping, done submitting. He was free, and he intended to live like it.
“What are you going to do?” Henry asked the question again when Will didn’t deign to answer it.
“I’m just going to be me.”
“Alright, and what’s you, now?”
“None of your fucking business,” Will said.
A flash of something like hurt passed through his eyes. He and Will had suffered captivity together, and yeah, sure, they had forged something like a bond or whatever. But Will was done with bonds. He was finished with connections. Maybe he was even tired of being human, of being weak, and having feelings.
“I’m just trying to keep an eye out for you,” Henry said.
“Well, don’t. Lorien is yours to worry about. I don’t belong to anyone anymore.”
“I know someone who would disagree with that.”
“And I don’t give a shit,” Will replied.
Henry snorted and shook his head, as if entirely surprised by Will’s attitude. “You have to know he is going to come for you, right? Is that what this is? You playing hard to get?”
“I am going to be fucking impossible to get,” Will promised with a dark grin.
Will left Ivan, Henry, and Lorien that same afternoon and headed back toward the city. He took his wolf form for ease of travel, not to mention escape from the complicated human thoughts and feelings that insisted on whirling around his head when he was a man.
He found the solitude peaceful. He felt as though he was finally feeling himself, in a way he never had before. From the moment he’d discovered his wolf side, Will had been controlled and moderated one way or another. His wolfness had been subject to the opinions and ideas of many others. First Maddox, then Henry and his pack, then Ivan. They’d all had their say, all tried to steer him one way or another. Now he was alone there was nobody to tell him what was right and what was wrong. There was nobody to force him to do anything he didn’t want to do, and there was nobody to stop him from doing what he wanted to do.
Out in the wild, lurking at the fringes of civilization for days, and then weeks, Will discovered something fascinating about himself. He loved fresh air. He loved crisp, cool nights when his wolf coat kept him warm. And most of all? He loved to kill.
6
