‘So, you're telling me that Number Seven is a centuries old burglar turned murderer high on Mint and Rosemary?’
I’m telling you it is likely that there are some out there still practicing the old Shadow Warrior ways. It would explain his apparent disregard for life and his dark eyes. If Arric has one, does he have more? That is a frightening thought.
My mind works fast, but the thought is that, ‘I hope to the Goddess you’re wrong. They could be the difference between winning and losing this war, on their own.’
Jumping to my feet I rush back to my office and immediately place a call to Flint.
“Councilman Flint speaking…”
“Flint, thank the Goddess you’re there…” I stumble and trip over my words as I try to spit out all that Hunter had just informed me of.
“Lyle, stop. Take a breath. I’m not following you. There’s a centuries-old shadow killing shifters in your woods? I don’t understand.”
“Give me a second to calm myself, Flint. You may want to include Bruno in this. He can probably confirm what Hunter has just told me.” Taking a couple of deep breaths, I relay Hunter's words to him, what Fenya witnessed, and then Bruno confirms the history of the Shadow Warriors.
“There have always been rumors and gossip that some of the old ways of the Shadow Warriors still remain, but no one has ever seen or proved anything. It has always just been hearsay and old wives' tales. No one has ever been seen with black eyes like Fenya believes she saw,” Flint states.
“When you get here, you can ask Fenya what she ‘believes’ she saw. I would recommend you do so choosing your words very carefully, from a safe distance, and with a clear avenue of escape. I will not be present during that conversation. I value my life too much.”
“You clearly believe the shifter had all-black eyes then?” Flint asks, a little disbelievingly.
“Two exceptional warriors witnessed him from a clear vantage point. He dispatched six rogue warriors within seconds, took meat from a cooking fire, and walked casually away eating it. Death meant nothing to him. He snuffed them out like we would a candle, and he only stopped to look back into the tree that Sloane and Fenya were hiding in. Fenya said she thought he was looking into her soul. Yes, Flint, I believe every word.”
“I’ll be with you as quickly as I can.” The line goes dead, and I wonder if I should call Bronze or Falan? Thinking it better to wait and speak to Flint first, I mind link Fenya and ask her to join me.
A few minutes later Fenya joins me in my office, I sit with her on the couch by the fireplace. “Hunter has given me some valuable information that may, no probably, explains the eyes of Number Seven.” Feeling her shudder at the mere mention of his name surprises me.
“I’m not afraid of Number Seven, but I will admit to a feeling of dread just hearing his name spoken. I can’t explain it better than that. I don’t even know if it’s the all-black eyes or the calm and indifferent way that he took those lives. If I had them, it would be the stuff of nightmares. So, what does the venerable Hunter have to say about them?”
Relaying Hunter’s history lesson, I notice that she isn’t surprised by any of this. “You haven’t stopped me and asked a single question. Did you know any of this?” I ask, a little surprised at her reaction.
“I know the basic story of how the Shadow Warriors came into being, of course. I thought everyone knew that story. I didn’t know about the healers supplying herbal mixes to enhance their strength, etc. Or the side effect of black eyes. That would explain the speed with which he could move.”
“I have spoken with Flint. He’s going to get here as soon as he can. He will want to ask you some questions about what you saw. He is skeptical, so please be gentle, I mean patient, with him.”
“Calm and destructive my love, calm and destructive.” She grins happily at me as I slap my forehead with the palm of my hand.
“CONstructive, my love, not DEstructive.”
Laughing at her innocent faux pas, she leans over and kisses me. “You know what I meant.”
“Alas, I know what you’re capable of. That’s my worry.”
Chapter 24
FLINT
No using my motorcycle for this journey. We received word that Arric is preparing for his onslaught, and that he intends to take Spirit Walker Pack first. I’ll mind link this to Lyle as soon as I am close enough. I don’t want to risk making a phone call.
I think the council needs to think about updating its fleet of vehicles, too. This one is just about shaking my flesh from my skeleton. This mode of transport may be more secure than my bike, but it’s a damn sight more uncomfortable, and slower!
Roul insisted on being my driver, which I believe is due to his feelings of betraying the council but more so me personally. I have tried several times to help him come to terms with it, to no avail. His family was taken and held hostage. I don’t blame him one bit for doing everything he could to keep them safe.
He even tried to find where they were being held so he could rescue them and bring down Porter, but Roul was betrayedby another warrior that he trusted would help him. It was an intricate web of deceit that Porter had spun and must have taken years to be so widespread. We were all taken in by him, I must say. Not once did I ever suspect that he would be involved, let alone that Arric would turn out to be his bastard son. I often wonder if Porter himself wasn’t coerced by Arric with threats of this being revealed.
The journey to the Spirit Walker border seems to take forever. I can only hope the rest of the journey passes quickly. I look forward to meeting Luna Fenya Walker. Lyle has his mate. Of course it was bound to happen, but I never saw it coming. I think I’m destined to be alone and grow old as a grumpy old shifter at the council. What an awe-inspiring thought that is. What would I need in a mate, I wonder? She would have to have patience to spare. I have been a single male for so long, I don’t know how to share my life! I always wanted pups, but I think I’m too long in the tooth for that caper now. They’d run me ragged in no time. Where would I be likely to find a mate anyway? I’ve been around the packs so long and so often that I would have met her by now. Nope, I think I’m just meant to be alone.
You speak for yourself. You wallow in your despair. I don’t know where this sour mood has come from, but you can keep it to yourself. I still want my mate and I want pups. Just because you see yourself as past your prime, don’t include me in that. I can still behave like a stud and sire litters of pups, thank you very much!Bruno states smugly.
