Our Fatal Failings (Twisted book two)

Chapter Twenty-Six

I look up at the stars as smoke plumes flat up to the sky. Nia counts them, drawing them out on her notebook. “I can’t read a thing,” she says. “I don’t know what they mean at all.”

“Good. Better that the tides are against all of us than in their favour,” Iris says, wiping down her rifle. 

“Do you think they took it? The bait I mean?” I ask, holding a nestled Andreas to my chest. Nia reaches over and touches his felt soft cheek. 

“They’d better. They think themselves so clever, don’t they?”

Nia sighs, picking at her fingernails, having set down the notebook. “It’s sad, isn’t it?”

“We had a good run,” Iris says. “Better this way, than mass suicide. Better now, when we still have power. Better now, before they release an angry horde of unneutered wolves on us.” We got that information from an informant. They’re not the only ones with spies. Andreas cooes and I lift him to my eye level. 

“Does the strong man need to be burped? Hmm. How do you ask for that?”

“He’s an infant, he’s not going to talk,” Iris says, tossing the rag aside. Nia shoots her a glare and takes Andreas from my arms. 

“This is why I’m the better Auntie,” she whispers and it’s Iris’s turn to glare. I stand, wiping down my pants. 

“Will you watch him? There’s milk in that bottle in my bag. I have to prepare my supplies.” And, prepare my proposal, my position and my weapon if things go sour and south and we end up retreating and taking this on another day. So much to do and so little time before the main force moves into the hills. I bet they’re coming through that forest already. Perhaps they’re already here. So, so little time. 

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Jonah’s POV

We see the plumes of smoke, small, but visible from a distance. Are they so desperate and on the run they’d make a mistake like this? Maybe. We’ve been chasing their main force for weeks, we’ve pinned down supplementary forces, raided an abandoned base and executed as many spies as possible. Still, it’s like playing whack a mole. Kill one, three more pop up.

I shift, shaking out my fur and letting out the howl of war. I can see figures now, hiding in the distance. I can see rifles, I can see glowing magic--abomination magic used against our own kind. Witches and wolves, we’re not that different. It's supposed to be us against the humans. They have to be reminded. We come charging down the hill, feet beating. I have fifteen-thousand wolves running with me. It’s an all out, it’s supposed to and going to crush them, bringing them to heel. I have to howl several times to get the staggered line to stay that way and not clump into a frenzied mob. These men, they have brothers and friends and uncles who they think have been damned to a horrid, lonely life. It turns out, that isn’t true. And I can feel their coursing anger. 

The flames grow brighter and I can see the witches, I can see the whites of their eyes, their wide eyes glowing with the flickering fire-light. They stand, they hold hands, they glow with magic. But they don’t flinch, even as we come speeding down. I scent the air. Imani...Imani is not among them. Did they split the force? I can already taste blood on my tongue before I lunge. I reach for a debilitating snap of a girl’s leg, but instead, I’m knocked back at least a dozen yards. They glow brighter and I see the wolves to my side lie breathing heavy, yipping and scratching the ground, their noses turned up. A bright blue barrier glows around them and I howl, clearing a path for myself back toward the forest. I move fast, swift and sprinting up the hill. When I reach it, I shift and wipe sweat from my forehead.