First Sight: The Rune Sight Chronicles Read online

  “I had to, I mean… I had to make enough money to buy my boat ticket once I hit San Francisco…”

  “What were you hunting?” I asked.

  “See for yourself, Thomas,” Carl said. “We left his pack there, near where we bound him. He’d been carrying it in his jaw.”

  I opened the pack and then frowned and then pulled on the top flap, opening it all the way up. A small bird cage with an iron hasp came out, along with what looked like a ton of glitter, sparkling in the sunlight.

  “It’s about damned time somebody got me out of there!” the fairy snapped angrily.

  I turned to the young Alpha Were and he seemed to shrink under my glare.

  “You are capturing fairies and selling them into slavery?” I asked him.

  “Do you know how rare they are? That one I chased for over a week. It’s why I ended up the way I did.”

  “You don’t enslave people for profit,” I told him angrily, feeling like a fool for wanting to intervene in pack business.

  Hearing something in my voice, the rogue’s eyes gleamed.

  “You cannot talk to an Alpha that way,” he growled, bringing himself up to his full height, getting his courage back as the pack sat quietly behind me.

  “Carl, as Alpha of this territory, would you allow me to challenge this rogue for possession of the fairy and prove my worth to your pack, since it seems we’re neighbors?” I asked.

  A challenge was one of the most violent and brutal ways werewolves dealt with issues. There was just one way to win. Two men fought, only one could win. Winning was… complicated, and fighting something that was faster, stronger and could shift into a form with teeth, or shift to heal or… What I was asking was probably seen as utter insanity by Carl and his pack, because in a mage/human challenge against a Were, magic wasn’t allowed. Flashy magic, at least. But nobody could see the type I had, and it was one of the best kept secrets I held.

  “On one condition,” Carl said. “If you win this challenge, you take responsibility for the territory your home occupies, whether or not you allow this one to live. Personally, I will probably put him down the moment he kills you.”

  So much for faith in me. I heard bones pop and turned to see the rogue alpha cracking his knuckles and bouncing from foot to foot. I holstered my pistol, knowing a win that way wouldn’t earn me any respect. Instead, I looked over at the fairy. At first glance, I couldn’t tell if it was a male or female, but it was looking at me as if…

  “You’re a dumbass,” the fairy said to me. “I’m going to get milked for all the dust in the world and it’ll be your fault. What a messed-up life I suddenly find myself in.”

  “Hey, have a little faith,” I told it.

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “You may begin,” Carl said, and I was hit so hard the wind left me in a rush.

  I hadn’t been looking for the sucker punch, nor for Carl starting the fight when I had my back turned. The young rogue had hit me in what could only be described as a football tackle. I rolled back and allowed him to ride me to the ground, and then held onto him under the armpits and kept rolling. I ended up on top and started throwing punches. Two connected right away as I wrapped my legs around the Were’s waist and, when his hands grew claws and raked at me, I had already seen that coming and dodged. I punched him sharply in the armpit, making him cry out in pain.

  Then I saw, as I scanned the futures, that if I remained where I was, kneeling over him, he was going to shift into his half human form and tear my throat out. I let go with my legs as he started his shift and kicked backwards, rolling to my feet. The rogue finished his shift, looking at each hand as the fingernails were replaced with claws. Coarse gray hair covered his body and he grew to almost seven feet tall, easily fourteen inches taller than me.

  I scanned the futures, switching from offensive to defensive mental mode. He came at me in a blur and swiped at my stomach. If I hadn’t moved, his hand would have ripped my stomach open, disemboweling me. But I’d seen that ahead of time, and was already moving to the side. Instead, I yanked my Gerber knife loose from my pocket and flipped it open even as I started my move, and when he was fully extended and committed, I planted the knife in the top of his shoulder, between the collar bone and the shoulder blade.

  The rogue howled and tried to pull the knife out as he got some distance. I was having none of it, and I knew the rune on that knife would ensure it didn’t slip out easily without my grip. I almost smiled as I grabbed the young man by his ears and pulled his inhumanly strong torso towards me, kneeing him in the chest twice before spinning out of the way of a backhand.

  “You are—”

  I laughed out loud, and the wolf inside him raged. He came at me with both hands, claws out. All I did was dodge and watch as he slowed, the knife hampering movement on one side. My blade wasn’t silver, but like many of the weapons I’d made, I’d carved the rune myself, and imbued it with my unused magic and tied it to my will. Since I’d activated it, I could feel my will, my magic, if you want to call it that, start to drain slowly as the blade held fast… slowly robbing the Alpha of strength. I was starting to sweat heavily from the magical drain and from dodging his blows, and despite the foresight to know how he was going to attack me, I was human.

  I started to tire. That was when he shifted to human form, screaming as he drew the blade from his shoulder, something he shouldn’t have been able to do. That scared me.

  “I don’t know what that was, but it burned,” he said, panting, sweat covering his body.

  “Do you yield?” I asked him mildly, trying not to pant for air.

  “No,” he said, and waded in with the knife.

  Right away, I saw he’d had some training in knife work and I cursed mentally, eyeing the blade still in his grip. Still, I could feel my magic draining, even as he healed quickly in front of my eyes. For every moment the blade stayed in his grip, in his body, or wherever the metal touched his skin, my rune was still working. He swung the blade low again, to try to disembowel me, but he was slower than he had been before. I shot my butt out backwards, letting the knife miss me by a hair, and punched out.

  My fist connected with his face and he dropped the knife in shock and held his hand up to where I’d broken his nose across the bridge. I moved to him slowly and picked up the knife, letting the magic go, putting it out. I closed and pocketed the knife without cleaning it and stood to face a now completely healed rogue.

  “You’re going to punch me out? Really?” His voice was an angry growl.

  “You’re toying with him,” Yolanda called out with a laugh.

  He swung with a haymaker, his face a mask of rage. I dodged it and started raining body blows every time he left himself open. He was starting to tire out faster than I was, and I knew I had him beat. He faltered a step and then I got in close and started raining in heavy body and head shots the way a trained boxer would. Hell, live long as I do, you get a chance to learn from trained boxers. Some of them Golden Glove winners, some of them heavyweight champions. Now, I was showing off as much as I was dishing out punishment on the impudent youth. I hoped it would be enough to win the respect of the local pack. I might just save his life, though I’d have to thoroughly kick his ass to do it.

  The rogue put a hand up as if to signal me to stop, and maybe give him a chance to submit. Instead, an overhead blow caught him in the nose, flattening it again, and dropping him to his knees. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him close as I crashed a knee into his face. The rogue fell down unconscious. I breathed hard for a moment and then looked at my knuckles. They were bloody, though only a little bit of it was mine from split skin. The rest was his. I showed my fists to the pack and then raised my head and howled.

  I saw Yolanda and her brother jerk in shock, but soon the four of them joined in. From a distance, another group joined in till the wolves’ voices echoed across the hilltops. I approached the pack and nodded to my spot near the fire. A pale but smiling Carl nodded back to me. />
  “That was most impressive, mage,” he said. “Your knife; is it enchanted?”

  “Yes, once it pierces the flesh, it drains the endurance of the victim until it’s returned to my grip. I figured if I could make him at least as breakable as me, I had a fair chance.”

  My admission might make me seem weak, but it was a calculated gamble. Yolanda started laughing first and the rest joined in.

  “I told you he was playing with the young rogue,” she said, poking her husband in the side.

  Carl grinned and kept turning the spit. “Thomas Wright, the Solaris Pack recognizes you as a pack friend, and you are allotted your own territory, to match the dimensions of the property you purchased from the Copper Mills Mining Consortium in 1988.”

  My head whipped to him and my jaw must have fallen open.

  “I’m old, not stupid,” the Alpha said. “Like mages, Weres age slowly. I’ve known of you for a time, though now I hope to know you. I name you friend of our pack and welcome you as a neighbor and friend.”

  “And I thank you,” I said, kind of awestruck.

  In pack politics and territory, very rarely did property lines matter to werewolves. They controlled the area, period. They had given me roughly a hundred acres of my own accorded pack territory. What he basically had done was name me an equal within the pack structure, which meant on my property, I was the Alpha.

  “I hope with this honor,” I said carefully, “and our friendship, that I can continue coming to the good Sheriff’s property to help her and her elderly mother as needed, without permission?”

  Carl grinned and nodded, “Actually, all I ask is that you police your property and, if there is a Were problem in my territory, you come to me first. Pack law and all.”

  “Agreed. Also, I hunt and I don’t want to interfere with the pack’s hunting—”

  “Oh Thomas,” Yolanda interrupted, “We know of your hunts. You won’t be a bother to us. I’m kind of relieved to have gotten to know you. If I’m not mistaken, you’re far older than you look. Your speech and knowledge of pack law would be surprising for one who looks such as you.”

  “I’m almost ninety,” I told her with a grin, and this time it was her jaw that dropped open.

  “Dear goddess,” she muttered, “I guessed that one wrong. I was going for late thirties.”

  “Ma’am,” I said, adopting a southern drawl, “I’ll take the compliment for what it’s worth.”

  She snorted and Carl nodded towards the unconscious man. “You won the challenge. You take possession of his slave, and you take responsibility for his life, since you saw fit to leave him alive. If you leave him here, I will deal with him the way I had planned.”

  The rogue rolled over and moaned and sat up slowly. I balled up a fist but he put both hands up. “I submit, you are Alpha.”

  “What’s your name kid?” I asked him.

  “Jones, Jeremiah Jones, sir.”

  “Of course it is,” I said with a sigh. “Come on, we have to go.”

  “Where?” he asked, getting to his feet.

  I walked over to the birdcage and opened it. Instead of flying away, the Fairy flew up towards my head. I saw it was a female, though badly smudged, and much of her glamor had gone during her capture. She was easily five inches tall. She waved her wand at herself and the smudges disappeared, leaving what looked like a green evening gown made of leaves that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. I expected to see her barefoot, but she wore the tiniest heels imaginable, even smaller than the ones they made for the toy dolls. If she were human sized, her curves would snap necks. I gave her a nod, which she returned.

  “We’re going to his territory, dumbass, before Alpha of the Solaris Pack kicks your tail between your ears. Yo, two legs, I’m hungry, can we get a move on?” the fairy called to me.

  I looked at my shoulder where the diminutive figure stood and then at Jones and sighed. “Yeah, let’s go. Carl, you don’t mind?”

  “You’re older than me, who am I to mess with an old man?” he asked, his voice amused.

  I cursed loudly as I walked and the werewolves roared their laughter behind me. Jeremiah Jones stayed quiet as we walked back.

  “I, uh… I am safe once I get to your land. But your land is surrounded by the Solaris Pack’s.”

  “Yeah,” I said, knowing that once a wolf submitted, he’d accepted his new role as part of a pack.

  Being made an honorary Alpha with my own accorded territory, he was now part of my pack, per pack law. He could challenge me, but then I would have to kill him, after he’d lost his first challenge. Otherwise the Solaris pack would come after both of us, if both survived.

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  Chapter Five

  I showed JJ, as I called him, my property. I forbid him from going inside the cabin, but I did show him the old trapper’s shack that was up the side of the mountain from my house. I’d built it almost thirty years before and then left it as I moved across the country. It was almost as rudimentary as my fake cabin down the hill, but it would work for now. It had been stick built, meaning two by four lumber with the roof beams made from wood I had harvested on the property. I had used it as a quick getaway, never a real home. I’d never, until the last year or two, kept in one place long enough to have a real home.

  Still, the shack was mostly built inside and outside out of plywood, the outside covered in tar paper like any proper shack should be, with antlers from past hunts adorning the doorways and over the windows. There wasn’t a modern bathroom in there, but there was a rudimentary kitchen area built into the same room as the living space. My faux cabin downhill was modeled much the same.

  “You patch that roof and clean up in here, I’ll let you stay for a while till we figure things out. As far as a ticket out of town… I don’t know if you want to be in my pack, and I really never ran a pack before.”

  “You seem to understand how this works better than me, Alpha,” JJ said.

  “Dammit, I told you, just call me Tom.”

  “Ok, boss, but if you wish me to leave, all I ask is that you tell me and maybe negotiate a way out of this territory for me.”

  “Listen… For right now, you’re safe. But I’ve got a lot going on. I’ll buy you some supplies for here, but I have to run into town. If you get going on this, I’ll bring back some bedding, food, shingles and plywood for the roof. Give me a week or two, because believe it or not, I have some of my own worries I have to take care of first.”

  JJ nodded and turned. I almost felt bad about the condition the run-down shack was in, but it wasn’t horrible and he’d admitted he’d stayed in places far worse. Werewolves on the run often slept in shifted form, wherever they found themselves. Instead of dumping all the supplies in the bank, I mentally shifted funds to what it would cost to renovate the shack into shape to where I didn’t feel like a slumlord.

  “Yeah, enough of this sappy shit, let’s go to town,” the fairy cried.

  “You’re still here?” I asked her.

  “You won a challenge for my possession,” I was told in a small, squeaky voice.

  “Ok, if you would like to be free, I give you your freedom.”

  “Oh, not at all, Lord Mage, if that means being hunted like I have been for years. I’d rather stay within the realm of your protection.”

  “Oh great,” I said feeling glum, “I spend most of my life alone and suddenly I’m picking up strays.”

  “One good thing, you can always confide in me. I can hold your secrets, and having one of the Fae about is sure to be a boon—”

  “You talk too much. I have to go to town, I can’t be having you riding on my shoulder like a parrot.”

  She snapped her fingers and she faded from sight. I could still feel the weight of her feet on my shirt and felt as she moved closer up and put a miniature hand on the side of my neck.

  “You may not trust the fur ball, but you know the oaths we Fae are forced to keep, under pain of loss of magic?”

>   “Yes, I have a rough idea; something about the Summer and Winter Courts?”

  “Yes. I had to swear to the fur face my allegiance, or be devoured. Since you won the challenge, my allegiance shifts to you.”

  “What if I wished you to be free?” I asked her.

  “You’re stuck with me, bucko.”

  “Good. Great, glorious,” I said with a sigh, and walked to my Jeep. “What are you known as?”

  “You can give me whatever name you wish, but if you call me Tink or any rendition of that name, I’ll probably glitter your eyeballs and bedazzle your britches. Don’t… call… me—”

  “Rose,” I interrupted her.

  “Rose?” She asked questioningly as I opened the door and got inside.

  “I’ll call you Rose, unless you hate the name.”

  “You are a strange master,” she told me, and then I slammed the door and started the motor.

  The diner and the solitude of the town was what had made me decide to make Coalville the place where I would finally relax, and more or less settle down somewhere I would consider to be home.

  I walked into the diner, and saw Cindy’s mother, Cheryl, behind the counter. She was in what I had to guess was her mid to late sixties. She wasn’t as tall as Cindy, but she had the same slender build. Her aging had left her looking almost frail, but you could see the strength was still there. The sad thing about it, was that the dementia seemed to come and go. She had her good days, and then her bad days where she hardly remembered anything. She’d been a fixture in the diner until about five years ago, when Cindy had convinced her to sell it, because she couldn’t effectively run it anymore. Still, nobody told Cheryl, who had red hair with streaks of almost pure white, that she couldn’t come in and work when she felt like it.

  Once in a while, when Cheryl was having a good day, she would come in and make pies. The first time I’d wandered in, I had been literally following my nose and had bellied up to the bar area near the kitchen. The diner was laid out in a fifties style, but it had been recently renovated, all the Formica new, and the upholstery still had the burnt orange look. It looked retro instead of dated. I’d fallen in love with the place… and then I’d found out that Cheryl the pie maker had a daughter, and soon… on her bad days… I had to pretend to be Cindy’s boyfriend.