Page 28 of The Tracker's Revenge
“I hope you’re not suggesting that you two should be the ones entrusted with the dagger.” Travis scrutinized Craig and Walter as if insinuating they weren’t capable of keeping a bag of nails safe, much less an enchanted, monster-making dagger.
“I thought the Supreme Pack Rule would keep it,” I said. “Isn’t that why we’re here? To give it to you?”
“Originally,” Yura explained, “three families were involved in hunting the hybrids that were first created with the Unholy Vessel. They made sure to track and kill every single one of them, and afterward, hid the vessel and kept its secret. Those three families are represented here. The Ericksons, Knights and Crosses.”
“So?” I demanded, then cringed at my tone. I’d sounded like an angry kindergartner, who didn’t understand why she couldn’t have more tater tots. Of all those present, I was the one who knew the least about the werewolf world and how it functioned, so I had no business opening my mouth unless I wanted them to treat me like a Stale on crack. No one listens to them.
“So, my dear—” Travis opened his mouth to explain, but I cut him off.
“I’m not your dear,” I growled under my breath, throwing visual daggers in his direction.
He rolled his eyes and went on. “So... the responsibility falls back on the same families. The Supreme Pack Rule is nothing but a group similar to this. Just because they are members of a higher organization doesn’t mean they’re more capable or better equipped to take care of the dagger and keep it from falling into malicious hands again.” He glanced pointedly at Ulfen, who suddenly had enough of Travis’s posturing.
Ulfen’s chair scraped the stone floor as the bear of a man stood abruptly, his entire body trembling with rage. I panicked, thinking of the moratorium we had vowed, and glanced at Yura, wondering what she would do.
What recourse would she have against someone breaking the rules? Would she kick Ulfen out? Would she open a secret door underneath him to have him plunge into a pit full of vipers? Would she pull out a magic sword that cut rabid werewolves in half?
I watched with my heart in my throat and was very surprised when Yura’s attention turned to Travis rather than Ulfen.
“You dishonor Wolfskeep with your behavior, Travis Hillworth. You repeatedly point out the worthlessness of your word every time you disregard your vow to a moratorium.” She turned to Ulfen then. “I admire your patience and restraint. They speak of true character.” She dipped her chin respectfully.
Ouch.Talk about kicking someone’s ass with diplomacy.
It was Travis’s turn to fume. He went red all over, the color rising from his neck and climbing all the way up to his hairline, like mercury inside an old thermometer. I almost laughed except I figured that would count as disrespecting my vow, too, and I didn’t want to attract Yura’s attention and get her whiplash tongue wagging in my direction.
Ulfen composed himself by pacing the length of the room a few times. When he was in control once more, he sat back down and exhaled.
“I suggest that Eric Cross keeps the dagger,” Ulfen offered, getting the meeting back on track.
Or not.
Because Walter, Craig, and Travis protested in unison.
“That is not an option.”
“No way.”
“He’s not even part of the Pack Rule anymore.”
Through all the angry objections, Eric remained calm, rubbing his chin as he’d been doing for the last ten minutes. When everyone finally went silent—though instead of screaming, they were now glaring at him—Eric crossed his arms and replied with a simple word.
“No.”
All the tension left the room like teens at the end of a school day.
I waited for Eric to offer some sort of explanation, but he gave none. The last few days protecting the dagger had felt like waiting for a box of C-4 to explode right in our faces, so I couldn’t blame him for refusing to take care of the thing. I also wanted it as far away from me as possible. There was no way I could go back to Rosalina with the news that the stupid thing was still part of our repertoire of problems.No way!
“At least there’s some sense left in him,” Travis said, then, realizing he was being an asshole again, blinked rapidly and shut his mouth.
“Given the circumstances and all the variables,” Yura said, “it seems the only two options available for protecting the dagger are Craig Blackridge and Walter Knight.”
Travis opened his mouth to protest, but Yura lifted a finger, effectively silencing him as if she possessed some sort of magic that could muffle insolent, spoiled men-children. I wondered if she would tell me her secret if I asked.
“I feel that the less people who know of its location, the better. We live in different times than when it was originally hidden. It cannot be buried or placed somewhere that appears inaccessible. These days, nothing is off-limits to anyone—not even the depths of the ocean. Therefore, I believe it should be kept under guard and protected by more modern means. Would you agree?”
I found myself nodding. I could easily imagine a group of miners or oil diggers stumbling onto the dagger in some Canadian tundra that no one ever thought would be disturbed. I could also picture them fighting over it, arguing over who should appear on the news announcing the finding, and who should receive the money once it was auctioned to the highest bidder, some starched-up old man with a huge collection of things that didn’t belong to him. I could also imagine how quickly someone like Stephen Erickson or Bernadetta Fiore would come to relieve him of his new acquisition.
“I agree,” Ulfen declared, surprising me and even Travis at his side. His ally frowned at Ulfen as if askingare you stupid?But Ulfen avoided eye contact with Travis and said nothing more.
