Code of the Wolf

Without hesitation, Jacob began to remove his clothes. He unbuckled his gun belt, set his belt knives in their sheaths on the ground, took off his bandanna and vest and shirt, pulled off his boots, and removed the tiny knife in its boot sheath. When he’d taken off the rest, Leroy gestured sharply with his gun.

Jacob knew he could Change in an instant and be on the men before they recovered from the shock. The Code was plain about bargains and promises: you didn’t break your word, even if you were dying. But he’d been careful in his agreement with Leroy; he’d agreed to ride out with them, but hadn’t made any promises about what he would do before.

Still, something held him back. He didn’t want to risk Serenity seeing him Change. She had enough to worry about without facing that kind of terror.

But he still had his superior speed and strength. He began to climb up the side of the arroyo, letting his feet slip as if he found the effort difficult. As soon as his eyes reached ground level, he saw Serenity flat on the ground a few yards away, rifle in hand, waiting for the chance to get near the ravine. She met his gaze, her eyes dark with emotion and fear.

But not for herself. He knew that as clearly as if she had told him.

He turned his head to search out the other woman he could smell nearby. She was crouched a few yards away on the other side of the arroyo, ready to fire her own Winchester.

“Tell them!” Leroy snapped behind him.

The muzzle of a gun poked into the small of Jacob’s back. He dug his fingers into the dry, crumbling dirt at the lip of the arroyo. It began to disintegrate under his grasp.

“Serenity!” he shouted. “Don’t—”

The soil under his hand gave way, and he fell backward. Leroy cursed as he buckled under Jacob’s weight, firing blindly. The bullet just missed Jacob’s hip. A second bullet flew over his head as he spun around and knocked Leroy’s gun from his hands.

Silas’s hands were shaking, but he had moved within point-blank range and was about to shoot Jacob through the heart. His finger twitched on the trigger.

The gun never went off. The muzzle of a rifle poked over the edge of the arroyo, and a bright red blossom opened on Silas’s shirt. He opened his mouth, staggered and fell.

“Jacob!” Serenity cried. “Are you all right? Is Bonnie—”

He was distracted for one fatal instant. Leroy scrambled up, dodged Jacob’s reaching hands and fell on top of Silas’s body, snatching at the fallen man’s revolver. His bullet caught Bonnie full in the chest. Serenity screamed, dropped her rifle and threw herself into the arroyo just as Jacob lifted Leroy and tossed him against the rock wall.

Then there was silence, broken only by Serenity’s quiet sobs.

Jacob turned slowly, barbwire coiling in his gut.

Serenity was holding Bonnie in her arms, rocking her gently and singing some kind of lullaby as she wept. She was no longer aware of Jacob at all.

Jacob crouched where he was, remembering. Remembering Ruth and how he’d found her body, shattered and abused and shot. He had promised to protect her when he’d made his marriage vows, and he’d failed her. He had made himself responsible for Serenity and Bonnie when he’d gone after Leroy and his gang in the arroyo. He’d failed them, too.

The almost inaudible crunch of soft footsteps above alerted him to the other woman’s approach. She knelt and looked into the arroyo, black hair falling across her face. Her dark-eyed gaze brushed over Jacob and his naked body, dismissed him, and settled on the women below. She jumped lightly to the ground and knelt beside Serenity.

Jacob felt the shock of recognition through the dull haze of his despair. Zora had to be half Indian, probably Apache by the looks of her, but she was at least half werewolf, as well. And she recognized the wolf in him, too.

Right now, though, she wasn’t interested in anything she and Jacob might have in common. She put her arm around Serenity and spoke low in Apache, a murmur of farewell and sorrow.

The last thing either of them wanted, he knew, was his commiseration. He made sure that Hunsaker and Silas were dead, then crouched beside Leroy to keep an eye on him, averting his face from the women’s suffering.

After a while the weeping stopped, and Serenity lowered Bonnie’s body gently to the ground. She smoothed the woman’s flyaway red hair from her face, removed her own coat and laid it over Bonnie’s chest to cover the ugly wound.

“We’ll take her home,” she said. She rose and glanced around the arroyo at Leroy and the dead men, her face expressionless, eyes red-rimmed and empty. She turned to Jacob.

“Is Leroy dead?” she asked

“Miss Campbell,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

She looked right through him. “Is he dead?”

“No. But I swear to you—”

“Why didn’t you kill him?”

“I’m taking him in,” Jacob said. “He’ll suffer a lot more waiting to be hanged than he would if I killed him now.”

Even to his own ears, the words sounded cold and indifferent.

Serenity began to shake. “He is not going anywhere,” she whispered.

“I will do it,” Zora said. Her voice was as soft as her tread, but her eyes were hard. She pulled a knife from its sheath at her belt.

Jacob rose to stand between Leroy and the Apache woman. “I can’t let you do that.”

“He killed Bonnie,” she said.

No fire, no hatred. Just simple fact. That was enough for Zora. But Serenity might still be reasoned with.

“He has to be brought to trial,” he said. “You talked once about women making the West civilized. I aim to keep it that way.”

Serenity stared at him as if he’d gone loco. “Civilized?” she repeated blankly. “What is civilized about any of this?”

Nothing. And that made the law even more important. No matter how much he might wish he could kill Leroy here and now, the Code wouldn’t let him. Killing in self-defense and to protect innocents was sometimes necessary, but he’d sworn years ago never to murder a man in cold blood, no matter what the reason. To do any different would make him just like those he hunted.

One slip would send him plummeting into the pit.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, meaning it with all his heart. “But the law is the law. I promise he’ll pay the price for what he’s done.”

Serenity’s shaking had stopped, but he knew she wasn’t half ready to concede. “You want him to go to trial?” she asked. “We can arrange that right here at Avalon.”

The idea took him aback. “Miss Campbell,” he said, “this is no place—”

“He would have a chance to tell his side of the story,” she said.

As if that would matter. Serenity had held Bonnie in her arms as the life had drained out of her friend. Her devotion had gone deeper than Jacob had guessed. There wouldn’t be even a semblance of justice in what she was proposing.

He looked at Bonnie’s body. She’d been a good woman. She might not be suffering, but Serenity and the others would go on grieving. Revenge wouldn’t ease those feelings, no matter what they thought. Revenge was a disease that ate you up inside and left nothing but a rotted soul.

“I can’t let you do it, Miss Campbell,” he said.

He’d underestimated Serenity and her women when he’d first come to Avalon. He should have known better than to do it again.

Serenity pointed her rifle at his chest.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Constantine,” she said. “Zora?”