Chapter 77: Staked

Tesler bound Buffy's ankles, and then tied her wrists behind her back, as Eddie held her still. Once she was secured, Tesler ordered Eddie back inside. Eddie went—Buffy was no danger to his brother now, and that was all that mattered.

Tesler started pulling Buffy by the long end of the rope. He dragged her over every buried limb and rock, through every bush. And apparently her stifled yelps weren't worth the effort of dragging her over and through obstacles. So, he threw her over his shoulder, and settled for verbal bullying.

"Do you know what's out here?" he said. "Something a lot worse than me. You've been running around these woods, you, your sister and her hubby. Have you seen our beast? I bet you have. It's curious, always sniffing around. It doesn't give us any trouble though. Know why? Because I figured out what it likes. The same thing I do."

"The missing girls," Buffy whispered.

"You saw the posters? Bet you figured I was responsible, didn't you?"

"You were."

"Just for taking them up on their offer. No one made them have a drink with me. No one forced them into my truck. They came along willingly. But as you may have guessed, I don't much like willing women."

"Where are they?" Buffy asked.

"Here and there. Bits of them anyway. When I was done, I left them for our beast friend. You know how some werewolves have a reputation for eating after fucking? Well, they've got nothing on this bastard. I swear he was chowing down before he finished. Should have heard those girls scream."

Buffy tried to stand up, but she could only twist and writhe. He grabbed the rope dangling from her hands and dragged her to a tree and tied her to it.

Then he stepped back and smiled. "Scared now?"

Buffy said nothing. Did nothing. Just stood there and stared at him. He lifted a hand to cuff her, then pulled back, pasting on that smile again.

"Oh, you're scared. And you'll be a helluva lot more scared when you see what's coming for you." He surveyed her. "You know what we really need? A video camera. Now that would be a home movie to pass along, make every mutt on the continent forget those faded photos of your sister's hubby's work. Maybe I'll send them as a package deal. See what happens when you piss off Clayton Danvers? Yeah, I heard he considers you like a sister. The only thing that would piss him off more than killing his sister would be killing his mate. Of course, she's not here, so… Well, here's what happens when you piss off Travis Tesler." He strolled over and lowered his face to Buffy's—as close as he could get and stay out of biting range. "Mine would be much more popular viewing, don't you think? The Pack's strongest fighter raped and eaten by a wild beast. Werewolf snuff at its finest. Hell, forget cementing my reputation. I'll sell copies and make a fortune."

When Buffy didn't react, he pulled his gaze away and backed off, then cocked his head, as if thinking. "You know, I'm sure I saw a video camera in the cabin. I'll go grab that. Don't start without me, okay?"

Buffy watched him saunter away. And she was left alone… in the Alaskan wilderness, dressed only in a shirt, jeans and socks, tied to a tree and reeking of blood.

"Dawn?" Buffy thought trying to contact her sister. But she got nothing in response. She was sure Dawn was nowhere around. "Savannah?" She got no response from Savannah either. It was possible that Savannah and Noah were far away by now. Maybe out of the range the telepathy spell usually reached.

Still Buffy had one trick up her sleeve—her biggest and best.

She took one long look around the forest, assuring herself she was indeed alone. Then she pressed closer to the tree, slackening the rope. She closed her eyes and concentrated on Changing. She had done it once before. Her fastest Change ever in fact. The question was could she do it now. The cold as well as her bruises were hampering her ability to concentrate enough to do the Change.

Just then there was a distant crack of a branch. She strained to look and listen, but could detect nothing. Then the tree vibrated against her back.

The tree shuddered again. Something was walking through the forest. Something big.

When Buffy inhaled, she caught the faintest stink of wild animal. Then a huge form reared up in the distance. Its massive head swayed. A wet snuffling cut through the silence as it sampled the air before dropping to all fours with a shudder even my frozen feet could feel.

The beast disappeared behind a barrier of bushes. The vibrations began again as it continued forward, slow and steady.

Buffy thought about trying to Change again. But there wasn't time for that. If the beast came upon her mid-Change, she'd be even more defenseless than she was now.

The creature reared, so close now she could see the brown fur, the rounded ears, the tiny eyes and the snub snout.

She was staring into the face of a bear. An ordinary, hibernation-groggy bear.

The bear snuffled, its piggy eyes straining to see me better. It dropped back to all fours with another earth-shuddering whoomph. Then it lumbered toward Buffy, its massive bulk swaying.

"Go!" Buffy yelled. "Shoo! Scat!" She whistled, and got its attention. It reared up and grunted, breath streaming into the cold night air. "Go! Scram! Shoo!"

She yelled and whistled, but it only peered at her through half-lidded eyes, part drowsy curiosity, part disdain, as if amused by this puny thing making so much racket. The bear lumbered forward, rocking like a boat on rough water, its nose working furiously. Every few steps it would pause, head tilted, as if trying to figure out the mystery of Buffy's scent.

As Buffy growled, it grunted in surprise. She snarled and bared her teeth. That gave it pause, but only for a moment, before it kept coming until it was close enough to warm her face with its rank breath. Then it reared up, all eight feet of it, towering over her.

The bear stared nearsightedly at Buffy, its head swaying as if a better angle would tell it what she was. Its face lowered to hers, the smell of its breath making her breathe through her mouth.

She was trying to meet its gaze when a sledgehammer blow to her shoulder sent me sailing off her feet. She hit the end of the rope, arms jerking hard, feet tangling, trying to find purchase. Another blow knocked her off them again. She fell to her knees, bound arms raised, joints screaming.

"Goodbye, Dawn," Buffy thought to herself, knowing her sister couldn't hear her. "Take care of Anne and Savannah for me. Tell them I love them."

The bear reared up, its roar thundering through Buffy's head. It raised a paw to hit her in the side, claws raking through her shirt.

As she fell, arms jerking over her head again, her scalp started to prickle. A patch of skin between her shoulders itched. She looked up at her bound hands to see hair sprouting as her body finally started the Change.

There was nothing she could do to stop it. She was in mortal danger and her body was determined to meet the threat with its best defense.

The bear kept batting Buffy, testing her reaction, realizing she was weak, and it was very, very hungry.

Her blood spattered the tree and speckled the snow and all she could do was whimper and twist, trying to get out of its way, to get myself into a better position for the transformation, every twitch of the Change agonizing. She was on her knees, hands bound with their backs together, and if that was uncomfortable as a human, it was impossible as a wolf, but that didn't stop the Change. It kept ripping through her, clothing twisting, binding her.

Buffy's whimpers turned to screams, then unearthly yelping howls that only infuriated the bear. The second the Change was far enough along, she had to pull out of the ropes and run. But the thought of making that happen—of having that degree of control over her body, as the Change and the bear buffeted it—was laughable. She might as well be in a straitjacket, dangling from a crane.

Then, as her Change came close to a finish, the bear pulled back and delivered a blow that sent Buffy flying up … and knocked one of her hind legs free from the rope. That was all the incentive she needed. She landed on her back, forelegs in the air, and started twisting, wrenching and writhing. Her shoulders screamed with the agony of having her paws bound back to back, but Buffy kept struggling until one came out. She pulled the other, but the rope snagged above her dewclaw and wouldn't budge.

She found a precarious foothold, two paws firmly on the ground, the third skimming it, the fourth dangling in the air. She lunged, snapping at the bear, teeth sinking into its flank. It hit her and she flew backward with a chunk of bear meat in her jaws.

The bear roared and dropped to all fours. It charged. Being still half tied to a tree didn't leave much room for getting out of its way, but Buffy did the best she could and it struck me only a glancing blow before careening off balance and sliding through the snow.

The bear recovered and turned on Buffy. She snarled and leapt at it, dancing in an awkward sideways hop that probably wasn't nearly as menacing as I hoped. It did give the bear pause, though. Too much pause. Its head went up, body tensing. As it rose on its rear legs, Buffy wasn't surprised to see it peering to see something in the distance—something more dangerous than her.

The bear snuffled, dropped and grunted. It shifted uneasily as it looked from me to the seemingly empty forest.

Was it Tesler? Hoping to find Buffy sobbing and begging for her freedom? If so, he would run away the moment he saw the bear, coward that he was. With any luck, the bear would give chase… a vision so delicious I had to revel in it for a moment.

"Savannah? Is that you?" Buffy thought trying to see what the bear was looking at.

The ground vibrated under Buffy's paws. Her muzzle shot up, sniffing madly. She knew then what she'd smell, and it took only a moment more to catch a confirming whiff. The beast.

Bear forgotten; Buffy yanked at the rope. Her foreleg stayed caught at the dewclaw. The rear one was twisted awkwardly, making it impossible to yank hard enough. She fell on the rope, biting and pulling at it. She kept working at the rope, gnawing frantically. When she heard a snort right behind her, Buffy turned, snarling. Then she stopped dead and stared.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

What stood before Buffy was neither wolf nor bear, but a freakish mixture of the two. A foot shorter than the bear, it had the same wide skull, brown fur and massive body. But its pointed ears and long snout were all wolf, and its fur—though longer and shaggier than Buffy's—was wolf fur with a thick coarse overcoat.

When Buffy looked into the beast's eyes, she knew Lynn Nygard's tales of Ijiraat were right. Only this wasn't a man that shifted into either wolf or bear—it was a blend of all three at once.

The beast stopped a few steps short of her and curled his lip back in an experimental growl. Like the bear, he was curious yet wary. Buffy met his gaze, neither backing down nor returning the growl, but doing the same as she had with Tesler—standing her ground and keeping eye contact.

The beast paced one way, then the other, his gaze still locked with hers. He stopped to get a better look at Buffy. He leaned forward and sniffed her. When she didn't attack, he leaned forward some more. She moved and he fell back, but she only turned sideways and let him sniff her, the same way she would with a fellow werewolf. Because that's how she had to treat this. As he sniffed, she gnawed—as casually as possible—on the rope holding her foreleg aloft.

He sniffed Buffy's flank. Then he sniffed her hindquarters. When he spent a little too long back there—and when his nose brushed where she didn't want to be brushed—she was so intent on the rope that she reacted the same way she did when a werewolf got a little too interested in that end of her. She spun, snarling and snapping.

The beast jerked back, grunting as if to say, what'd I do? Buffy grunted back … then sat. He prodded her hindquarters. She stayed sitting. When he prodded harder, she growled.

He chuffed, his eyes narrowing, head tilting one way, then the other, considering. Another chuff and he turned his back on her and started walking away, grumbling as if thoroughly offended by her lack of interest.

Buffy returned to her rope-gnawing, and the moment she did, she heard the thunder of running paws. Before she could turn, the beast leapt onto her back, hind paws still on the ground, forepaws cinched around her. Male mounting position.

Buffy didn't panic. This wasn't the same as Tesler's rape attempts. To a wolf, this was simply a sexual overture, and had to be answered much the same as any unwelcome attention—with a very quick and firm "not interested."

She pitched forward, out from under him, and twisted around as far as the rope would allow, then threw in a few serious growls for good measure. His eyes lit up like a puppy that's been swatted and thinks it's an invitation to playtime.

He dove at Buffy and nipped her front leg, then pranced back, jaws open in a very canine grin. When she didn't react, he chuffed in disappointment … and tried mounting her again.

Buffy warned him off. He thought it was foreplay. She ignored him. He tried to mount her. She warned him off … and so the cycle went. Buffy supposed she should have been a lot more concerned about this scenario, but he gave no sign of tiring of the game or forcing himself on her. So, she kept playing … while sneaking nips at the rope on her foreleg, fraying it strand by strand.

Finally, with a yank, she was free. The beast backed off, but only to get a better look. Then he chuffed, as if pleased with this new development. When she pulled on the leg rope, he leapt in and, with one chomp, snapped it. And, ungrateful bitch that she was, Buffy took off.

That didn't bother him in the least. He simply interpreted this as step two of the canine seduction game. First, she rebuffs you. Next, she runs away. Finally, you catch her. And then? Well, that's when the real fun starts.

So, he chased Buffy. Buffy wasn't concerned, she just poured on her Slayer speed. Only she didn't count on two things.

One, he was a little more invested in winning this chase than he'd been the night before. Two, Buffy was battered and exhausted. She didn't make it far before he caught up and leapt onto her back. She let her legs give way, dropped and rolled, snarling and slashing. He yelped as her teeth sunk into a healing wound on his neck, where Clay had bitten him the day before. Then a roar echoed through the night and she turned her head to see another beast—a bigger one—charging straight for her.

Buffy scrambled up, stumbling out of the way, her legs skidding like a day-old fawn's. But the new beast wasn't running at her. He hit the smaller one in the side and knocked him flying.

Buffy's first instinct, naturally, was to get the hell out of the way while these two battled it out. When she'd lunged to the side, though, she'd twisted her already-tender, formerly bound foreleg. So, when she tried to lope gracefully into the sunset, it gave way and she sprawled into the snow.

As Buffy pushed up, she heard a yelp and looked back, not to see a roiling beast battle, but the smaller one cowering as the larger one cuffed him across the head, growling as if to say, what the hell did you think you were doing? Like a father swatting his misbehaving kid…

Buffy gawked for another moment. Then the older one looked her way and she realized she was staring when she should have been running like hell. So, she took off.

Again, Buffy only made it a few steps before the crunch of paws in the snow sounded behind her, now in stereo as they both gave chase. This time, though, two things let her pull into the lead. One, Junior knew he wasn't going to get any 'reward' with his father around, so his heart was no longer in it. Two, with double the muscle pursuing her, she seemed to find a final reserve of strength.

When they'd gone half a mile and neither sped up nor slowed down, the huff of their steady breathing told her they weren't giving it their all, and she realized they were letting her pull ahead.

They were wearing her out, the same way she and the others in the Pack did with deer, letting that first panicked burst of energy drain them. Behind her, the bigger beast grunted and she looked back to see him stumble a little, as if his paw had caught a root. It didn't trip or slow him down, but it was a reminder of his position—at her left flank. And the young one was at my right. They weren't using the old run-your-prey-to-the-ground trick. They were using the old drive-your-prey—

Buffy hit the brakes and made a hard right. She caught the younger one off guard and zoomed past him as he was still executing his own skid and twist maneuver. But the older one was better prepared and stayed right on her heels. From the crashing of bushes behind them she knew she'd narrowly avoided exactly the trap she'd anticipated—a third beast lying in wait ahead.

How many were there? Was it a pack? An extended family? Where did they live? Out here, dangerously close to civilization? How did—?

Buffy shut off her brain and allowed the wolf to take over. It poured that energy into her legs. As she ran, she caught a whiff of a fourth beast, its scent blowing straight into her face, and she realized they'd boxed her in with a rear guard, too.

Buffy tried to veer, this time plunging into the forest, hoping to escape that way, but the older one was too close behind and as soon as I slowed to turn, he grabbed my rear leg and wrenched.

She fought, all three legs scrabbling in the snow, scraping it away to dirt, desperately trying to find traction. But he had her tight, and from the pressure of his fangs, Buffy knew she wasn't getting away… not with the bottom half of her leg intact.

When Buffy stopped struggling, he gave a yank and her forelegs splayed out. She thumped belly-first to the ground. He dragged her back into the clearing. Then he let go.

Buffy got up to find a beast at every compass point blocking her escape. They just stood there watching her, no expression in their matching blue eyes. Only the youngest moved, shuffling with youthful impatience, looking from one elder to the next, waiting for them to get on with it. After a moment, two of the older ones started casting the same looks at the third. He was the biggest, and also the oldest, judging by the gray spicing his dark fur. The Alpha.

After studying Buffy, the Alpha grunted. Then he stretched his forelegs out, his back legs following, his head dropping between his shoulder blades. It was a position she knew well and when she saw it, her heart started hammering.

The beast began his Change. Buffy should have expected that. But she didn't. The bigger shock came when she saw what he Changed into.

Buffy didn't need any classes in anthropology to recognize what the man was, Neanderthal.

"You come with us," he said.

His voice was gruff, almost a growl, and he spoke with the slightly halting inflection of someone whose first language wasn't English. When he spoke again, Buffy thought it was a word in his native language—a barked command to the others. Then she realized it really was a bark, two quick guttural sounds with an inflection like speech.

The other two elders clearly understood, grunting and nodding. The younger one paid no attention. The Alpha turned his gaze on him and said what sounded like "Eli." The youngster grunted grudging agreement.

The Alpha crouched, then Changed back to beast with a speed and ease that left Buffy sighing with envy. She had only done it once, in the heat of battle in the rush to protect her sister. And she was not even sure how she managed it that time.

One of the elders nudged Buffy's flank hard, telling her to get moving. She set out behind the Alpha.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy limped along, surrounded on all sides. The Alpha led them toward one of the small mountains dotting the wilderness. At first, he cut a trail through unbroken snow, but deeper into the forest, we turned onto a well-traveled path that led through trees so dense they had to duck under branches. We reached snow-barren rock and began to climb. Finally, the Alpha disappeared behind what seemed like a solid stone wall. She followed and found the concealed entrance of a cave.

Buffy followed the wall for a few feet, and then sat on her haunches. There was the thwick of a struck match and a kerosene lamp hissed. Light flared. Buffy blinked and saw the figure of the Alpha holding the lantern. He was dressed now, in jeans and a flannel shirt. His thickly haired feet were bare, the cave floor covered in dried strawlike reeds.

Behind the Alpha was one of the elders, also Changed and dressed, lighting a fire. Buffy couldn't see the third, but the youngest was off to my left, buttoning his shirt. He wasn't any older than Noah, which she supposed explained his hormone-fueled reaction earlier. He was slenderer than the others, with light brown hair to his shoulders, his cheeks still smooth.

Looking over, the young one grunted and waved toward Buffy. The Alpha grunted back. There was nothing overtly primitive about their communication—it sounded like a couple of guys who weren't much given to conversation, making do with gestures and noises instead, the younger one clearly pointing out that I was still in wolf form and the older saying, "Yes, I know."

The Alpha lit a second lantern, and then turned to Buffy. "Shift to human."

While that would certainly aid communication, right now, Buffy was happy to keep her warm fur and sharp teeth. She wished Dawn or Savannah had been there it would have allowed her to talk to them without Changing.

When Buffy made no move to start her Change, he said, "We would like you to shift to human. Over there." He pointed to the corner. "It is dark enough."

The young one—Eli—tried to follow Buffy. A growl from the Alpha stopped him.

"I'm just going over here," he said, his speech surprisingly normal, like that of a second-generation immigrant. "To watch her."

The elder tending the fire chuckled and Eli blushed.

"To guard her, I mean," he said.

"Sit," the Alpha growled.

"Clothing?" the other elder said.

The Alpha grunted and nodded, then waved Eli toward a rough-hewn chest. Buffy waited while Eli dropped clothes near her. When he'd retreated, she began her Change. Once finished, she pulled on the shirt and buttoned it, reached for pants… and found none. The shirt fell to her knees, though, and the reed-covered floor kept the cold from her feet.

When Buffy stepped forward, the Alpha took one look at her and growled. "Eli…"

The boy only looked over, his face a study in wide-eyed innocence.

"Pants," the Alpha said.

"They're too big for her."

"Eli!"

He found Buffy a pair of jeans. As he was bringing them over, he snuck a look at her.

"Eli…" The Alpha's voice was a low growl now. "Respect."

Buffy thought he meant for Eli to respect him, but when Eli kept staring, the elder—the one she suspected was his father—cuffed him as he had in the woods and growled, "Respect, Eli. She is werewolf and a Slayer."

"You know of the Slayer?" Buffy asked in clear surprise.

"Yes," the Alpha said. "Our ancestors were around when the first was called."

The Alpha pulled out a chair made from bound branches and draped with an animal skin and he motioned for Buffy to sit. As she did, she looked around. The cave was a jarring mix of primitive and modern—furs and twig furniture mingling with parkas, winter boots and, beside the fire pit, a steel pail of water.

When the Alpha followed Buffy's gaze, though, he said quickly, "This is only a hunting camp. We live a distance away. In houses," he added emphatically.

"Is that where the women are?" Buffy asked.

He nodded. "They come sometimes. Not this time."

"And they're … like you? They can … shift into … what you do?" Buffy asked as he looked at her confused. "The women. They're like you? They … shift form?"

"Of course." He frowned, then nodded. "Yes, there are not women among the werewolves. Or that is what I have heard, but clearly you are…" He thought this through a minute, then said, "You are a bitten one, then."

"It is true that women werewolves are indeed rare. And until recently they were all bitten. And yes, I was bitten." Buffy said. "Is that what your women are? Bitten?"

"No, it is not the same. We cannot … do that. We are born Shifters. Our women are, too. But they are rare."

"And you live deeper in the woods? In a community? Are there many of you?" Buffy asked.

He hid his unease by quickly glancing aside and muttering, "Not important."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I just—I've never met… Shifters before." Buffy said.

"There are many of us," Eli said. "More than you werewolves, and all bigger and stronger than your best. If you come, we'll fight." He met Buffy's gaze. "And we'll win."

"Respect!" the Alpha snarled, wheeling on him.

"Why? Look at her. She's no bigger than a human. And she shifts into a normal wolf. Why should we be afraid of—?"

His father cuffed him. "Respect! She amongst all of her kind could easily take us! She is a hybrid Slayer and werewolf which makes her far stronger than her kind normally are alone."

"It's okay." Buffy tried for a wry smile. "I can see how my questions could have been misinterpreted, but it was only curiosity. Your territory is yours. We have our own, and we're happy with it."

"The werewolves like cities," the Alpha said, in a tone that implied he pitied their preference, but was trying to remain politely neutral on the subject. "They have never given us a problem. Until now. These werewolves in the valley. The ones in the cabin…"

"If you mean the two brothers and their friends, they aren't part of my Pack. In fact, I just escaped from them." Buffy said.

"We know this. We have been watching them. They are… trouble. Did the others in your Pack come with you?" the Alpha asked. "You are not alone, are you?"

Eli had seen her with Dawn and Clay, but from the nervous looks he was tossing toward Buffy, the others knew nothing of those encounters.

"I'm with my daughter, my sister and her mate," Buffy said.

"Good. You will bring them. Then you will get rid of these werewolves."

"You mean kill them?" Buffy asked.

"If that is what you think best," he said, as if leaving the final call up to Buffy. Not that she had any problem killing Tesler. Hell, she didn't plan to get on a plane out of Alaska until she had. But being commanded to do so wasn't something she took lightly.

Buffy demanded—well, asked for, relatively nicely—an explanation. Getting one wasn't easy. The conversation proceeded slowly as the Alpha searched for the right words. Eli kept sighing and fidgeting, clearly wanting to take over. But in this, the Shifters were like a werewolf Pack. While they made some allowances for his youth, he couldn't speak for the Alpha. When the Alpha is present, he must speak for his pack.

As he'd said, this was one of the main hunting camps for his community, as well as a way station between it and the city, where they went for supplies. While Dennis's cabin had been there for years, he'd never caused any trouble, so the Shifters treated him as a fellow predator—leaving him alone. Tesler and his boys were another matter.

If Dennis was the respected fellow hunter, the Teslers were like the rednecks who rent a cabin for the week just to get drunk and shoot stuff. They'd been running in wolf form not caring whether they were seen or heard, scaring the game for miles and preying on humans, then—worse yet—leaving their kills in the open.

Now, she'd already suspected the mutts of the killings, despite Dan's denials. When Buffy expressed even the slightest skepticism, though, just a gentle "Are you sure it was them?" the Alpha got his back up.

"Yes, we are sure. Miles" —he gestured to Eli's father— "was at the cabin after the first man died. He heard them fighting. One had been seen by a human as he Shifted, so he killed him and the leaders were angry with him for not hiding the body before it was found. They sent him away."

That matched Dan's story. But if the Tesler brothers gave their lackey shit for leaving the corpse, and kicked his ass out because of it, why were two more bodies found later?

And here Buffy discovered that the Shifters lacked a certain sophistication when it came to scheming and subterfuge. That's not to say they were stupid. They just weren't accustomed to the kind of political machinations the Pack dealt with every day. When she pointed out the fallacy of the Alpha's logic, he grew agitated.

"They did kill that man. And that is not the worst. They killed girls. Two of them. Maybe more. We found only two. They buried them, but not with respect. They threw them away. Like …" He waved his hand, searching for words. "Like garbage. They are monsters."

Agreed. And at confirmation of the girls' fate, Buffy's determination to kill Tesler only grew. But she noticed he'd shifted my attention from the question of the other two "wolf-killed" men. The Tesler gang hadn't killed them and the Alpha knew it. Another, less comfortable explanation slunk into the back of my mind.

"You say these pack leaders were upset with the body being left out and found," Buffy said slowly. "Very upset. Maybe, if it continued, they'd get upset—and nervous—enough to leave."

"Yes, but they did not."

"Because they knew they weren't responsible and, being clueless about normal wolf behavior, they presumed it was wolves and ignored it. So, your plan failed."

The Alpha nodded… then stopped, as he realized what he was admitting to. He blustered then, not denying it, but pointing out that the two men they'd killed were poachers and trappers, stealing animals meant for sustenance and taking only the skins.

"And animals aren't the only thing they kill," Eli muttered.

His father tried to shush him, but halfheartedly, his gaze averted, eyes filled with grief.

"Poachers killed one of you," Buffy said. "In Shifted form. They mistook you—"

"They mistook him for nothing," Eli snarled, spittle flying. "He wasn't Shifted. The guy shot him and tried to hide his body, like he'd killed a deer out of season."

"My other son," Miles said. "Eli's litter mate."

Eli's twin brother, accidentally shot in human form. That would explain the animosity toward humans.

"But what we did, it was not revenge," the Alpha said.

"You want Tesler and his gang dead," Buffy said. "So why not do it yourselves?"

"It is forbidden."

"Maybe, but—" Buffy said.

"No. Killing werewolves is forbidden."

His tone said this was an unbreakable and unquestionable law. So, they could kill humans, but not werewolves? That made no sense.

"You will do this for us," the Alpha said. "You will kill them."

Before Buffy could answer, he whistled. Tramping footsteps and muffled curses sounded at the cave entrance. In walked the missing fourth Shifter, pushing before him two figures in oversized parkas, arms bound behind their backs. The figures struggled and the hood fell back. It was Noah and Savannah, gagged with a strip of leather, eyes blazing with fury and humiliation.

"They are yours?" the Alpha said.

"Yes," Buffy said. "He's ours. And the other is my daughter. But you already knew that."

"Yes," he said. "You will do this for us and they are yours again."

"No," Buffy said. "I understand you wanting to keep a hostage to ensure I do what you want. But I'm going to need Savannah. You can't hold her anyways. Right, honey?"

"Right, Mom," Savannah thought and the shifters jumped at the telepathic thought that entered their minds. They had smelled the scent of Savannah being a Slayer but not expected that Savannah was also a witch.

"After all she is a Slayer," Buffy said. "As well as a witch. She could free herself if she chose, simple teleportation spell."

"Release her," the Alpha said. "She will accompany her mother."

As Savannah was released, Buffy looked to Noah. "We'll come back for you I promise."