CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
WOLF BLOOD

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"WOLVES," PIPER MURMURED, NOT that Kit needed her to point out the source of the sound. The howls were piercing, ripping through the air like the blade in Kit's clenched fist. Somewhere in the cavernous hole where his heart should've been, something cold and heavy sunk to his stomach; a beating organ blackened at the edges, smoking from the embers of incoming danger. Kit swallowed thickly and hefted his sword higher. "They sound close."

In an instant, Jason, Leo and Gleeson had joined him in facing the mouth of the cave. Four imposters pretending to be warriors, surrounded by the jagged edges of rock that were shaped like teeth in the darkness. Four prey waiting for the predator to attack. Jason had his own sword at his side, the golden blade glinting in the firelight. Leo had summoned his trusty hammer, swinging it from hand-to-hand as his eyes traced the darkness nervously. Of course, Gleeson had his tree club raised. He was already swinging at the shadows, just as eager and bloodthirsty as the wolves. Kit saw Piper attempting to stand behind them, fingers scraping the walls to hold herself up. He knew she wouldn't be much good to them, and as much as she hated to admit it, Piper knew it too.

"Stay there," Jason snapped over his shoulder at her. Not for the first time, his voice rippled with a commanding tone, as natural as breathing, sparking a sick kind of resentment around the stone-cold heart in his stomach. "We'll protect you."

Piper's jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing at his poor choice of words, but she said nothing to argue against him, knowing it wasn't the right time.

A moment later, the shadows began to part, and Kit's cautious gaze landed on a pair of red eyes glowing in the inky night. They reminded him of rubies, of blood trapped in stone, gleaming like the pointed fangs that followed through the darkness. One-by-one, the wolves edged into the firelight to prowl around them, their paws leaving imprints in the slick mud and snow. There had to be about a dozen, maybe more, a pack hunting their latest meal. Kit wanted to attack, to hit first and think later, but held himself together as Jason stepped forward and shouted something instinctive in Latin. It sent a wave of shock through the pack, their leader growling at the others to send them scattering away.

Watching them, Leo leaned over to hiss at Kit and Jason, "Dude, I've gotta study Latin. What'd you say, Jason?"

Before Jason had a chance to respond, Hedge muttered a curse and raised his club even higher, nails digging crescent moons into the rough bark. "Whatever it was, it wasn't enough. Look."

Kit's brows furrowed harshly as the wolves began to return. Their violent, rabid growls hadn't ceased, but they forced themselves not to attack just yet, merely waiting outside the cave entrance. Their leader was nowhere to be seen, which Kit wasn't sure was a good thing.

Gleeson seemed to realise it, too. "Okay, here's the plan," he muttered before baring his teeth at one of the braver wolves. His lips were motionless around the words, carefully concealing his not-so-clever plan from the enemy. "I'll kill them, and you guys escape."

"Coach, they'll rip you apart," Piper protested in obvious disbelief. Kit had to agree. He knew Gleeson could fight, but a whole pack of hungry wolves? He'd be dead before they could get far enough away, and then what? The wolves would hunt them down and Gleeson's death would be for nothing.

A sudden crackle of snapping branches had the group falling silent. The wolves parted one-by-one, allowing a man to wade his way towards the front. His face was lowered so Kit couldn't see his features, but his shoulders were broad and muscled, speaking of experience in combat, in death.

"Stick together, they respect a pack," Jason warned. Like Kit, his stomach had sunk at the sight of him. "And Hedge, no crazy stuff. We're not leaving you or anyone else behind."

At last, the man looked up, his features snapping into focus. His hair was long, falling past his shoulders in greasy strands. On top of his head was a crown of what looked to be finger bones, the murky white blemished with stains that struck Kit as blood. Wrapped around his body was a coat of different furs -- rabbit, deer, human flesh. The high collar made his face seem thin and lifeless, the features pulled in opposing directions like an ill-fitting mask. Much like his wolves, his eyes were bright red, ringed with some sort of charcoal that made the pupils sink into his skull. He might've looked like a man, but it was painfully obvious he was anything but.

"Ecce," he spat at Jason, prompting the blonde boy to flinch. This demon's voice was sharp, croaky, like someone had stuffed his throat with rocks and glass and he was struggling to speak through the deadly combination. "Filli Romani."

"Speak English, wolf man," Hedge demanded, to which the wolf man sneered.

"Tell your faun to mind his tongue, son of Rome," he warned Jason, the threat obvious as he slowly scanned their group, their very own pack. He said faun like it was some kind of insult, prompting Gleeson's chin to rise with defiance. "Or he'll be my first snack." Jason didn't respond, merely shooting Gleeson a glare that screamed shut the fuck up right now. Ths satyr huffed and puffed, but eventually pursed his lips in a sign of reluctant surrender. "So it's true. A child of Aphrodite, a son of Hephaestus, a son of Ares, a ... faun, and a child of Rome, of Lord Jupiter no less. All together, without killing each other, and a traitor in their mix. How interesting."

Kit rolled his eyes. Traitor. That word was thrown around so much that it was beginning to lose its meaning, even to him. He felt nothing as the man sneered, just a prickle of irritation.

"You were told about us?" Jason frowned, mind racing to put together the pieces. "By whom?"

The man laughed suddenly, the sound pulling his lips back to reveal thin, sharpened teeth. There were prominent gaps between each one, as if the man had taken to them with a knife and cut out his gums. "Oh, we've been patrolling for you all across the West, demigod, hoping we'd be the first to find you. The giant king will reward me well when he rises. I am Lycaon, king of the wolves. And my pack is hungry."

Lycaon. Kit really should've recognised him sooner. He'd heard his story -- again, from Annabeth -- it was one of the few he actually committed to memory. Something about Lycaon made him feel comforted. Kit could be as wicked as he wanted to be, but he'd never be like the king of wolves. Betrayal was no match for ruthless sin, treachery traded for senseless evil.

At the mention of his name, Jason hefted his sword higher and shouted, "Leave! There's no food for you here!"

Lycaon scowled and looked upon Jason's sword like it was nothing more than a toothpick. With a roll of his blood-eyes, he said, a hint of furious regret to his voice, "If I had my way, I'd kill you first, son of Jupiter. Your father made me what I am today. I was the most powerful mortal king of Arcadia, with fifty fine sons, and Zeus slew each and every one of them with his lightning bolts."

For good reason, Kit thought just as Gleeson echoed the words himself.

"Coach, you know this clown?" Jason frowned, caught somewhere between distrust and surprise.

"I do," Piper murmured, face paling to a sickly shade of green. She looked seconds away from puking up the food in her stomach, nose scrunched up in a grimace.

"So do I," Kit added then, looking Lycaon up and down with thinly-veiled disgust. "Tell them the story, Piper."

"Lycaon invited Zeus to dinner. But the thing is, he wasn't sure it was really Zeus. So to test his powers, Lycaon tried to feed him real human flesh. Of course, Zeus was outraged, and--"

"He killed my sons," Lycaon cut in with a pained howl echoed by his wolves. His throat strained with the unnatural sound, body fighting between man and monster. It was the first sign of emotion Kit had seen from him that wasn't anger or blood-lust. He didn't trust it.

"So Zeus turned him into a wolf," Piper continued, swallowing thickly when Lycaon's eyes cut to hers, hot like burning coal. "They call... They call werewolves lycanthropes, named after him, the first werewolf."

"The king of wolves," Gleeson hissed, his voice taking on a mocking edge as he stamped one of his hooves in the dust. "An immortal, smelly, vicious mutt."

Lycaon's responding growl was dangerous, a pulled wire sparking in warning. "I will tear you apart, faun," he roared so intensely that spit splattered from his mouth.

Gleeson laughed at that. "Oh, you want some goat, buddy? 'Cause I'll give you some goat."

"Stop it," Jason groaned, glowering at the satyr -- who, if he felt the intensity of Jason's glare, didn't show it. Jason scoffed and turned back to Lycaon. "Lycaon, you said you wanted to kill me first, but...?"

Another sigh that reeked of regret. "Sadly, Child of Rome, you are spoken for. Since this one--" He waved a curved claw at Piper, whose face dropped as he looked her up and down. "Has failed to kill you, you are to be delivered to the Wolf House." The Wolf House? What was the Wolf House, and why had Kit never heard of it before? "One of my compatriots has asked for the honour of killing you herself."

"Who?" Jason demanded, just as Kit ran through the mental list of enemies they had made in just a matter of days. There were a lot to choose from, but Kit had a feeling that he knew which in particular was messing with them. He sneered down at the falling snow like it was the Ice Bitch herself.

"Oh, a great admirer of yours," Lycaon snickered, both bark and bite. "Apparently, you made quite an impression on her. She will take care of you soon enough, and really I cannot complain. Spilling your blood at the Wolf House should mark my new territory quite well. Lupa will think twice about challenging my pack."

Lupa. Another name that Kit didn't know. He imagined this Lupa as some kind of warrior, someone so dangerous that even Lycaon had a reason to fear her. It brought him a twisted sense of satisfaction, that this... creature knew what fear felt like, that despite his tough exterior and threatening words, Lycaon wasn't invincible. Kit still had a chance to kill him.

A gentle shoulder nudged against his as Piper struggled her way to the front. Kit caught a flash of concern in Jason's eyes, fleeting, followed by the twitch of his fingers longing to reach out and steady her before he forced himself to remain motionless, untouchable against weaknesses. She didn't say anything at first, blinking like she was fighting off the urge to be sick on Lycaon's feet. Lycaon dismissed her the second she stepped forward, watching her with more amusement than genuine calculation.

"You're going to leave now." The wolf man laughed. "Before we destroy you."

His response was immediate, borderline condescending. "A brave try, girl, I admire that," he conceded. "Perhaps, I'll make your end quick. Only the son of Jupiter is needed alive; the rest of you, I'm afraid, are dinner."

Would this be how I finally die? Kit wondered. In a cave, alone, with no one to find me, to grieve me. Is this the grave I have dug for myself?

Jason took a careful step forward, his face merely inches from Lycaon's bared teeth. He seemed awfully unafraid, a mirror image of Lycaon's amusement. "You're not killing anyone, wolf man," Kit heard him hiss. "Not without going through me."

Unlike when Piper said it, Lycaon's response was harsh, immediate. With a flick of his wrist, his claws extended, howl piercing the air like a battle-cry. Jason's sword slashed at him, confident, only for the golden edge to pass right through him. Kit paused, feeling stupid that he hadn't realised it sooner. Lycaon's laugh was like a punch to the gut.

"Gold, bronze, steel -- none of these are any good against my wolves, son of Jupiter," the wolf man mocked. Perhaps he really was untouchable after all.

"Silver!" Piper cried in a vain attempt to regain the upper hand. "Aren't werewolves hurt by silver?"

Lycaon was too busy growling at his wolves to respond. Slowly, they began to inch closer, forcing Kit to step back into Leo's side. From a quick scan of the pack, there were about two, maybe three wolves for each member of their measly group of five. They were severely outnumbered, without weapons, with no way to change Lycaon's mind, to convince him to spare them.

It was safe to say the odds weren't in their favour.

Beside him, Leo's breath hitched. Kit glanced at him, half-expecting terror to be staring back. He was surprised to find that wasn't the case, however, and that Leo almost looked... confident. He was rustling around in the tool belt around his waist, muttering beneath his breath a few words that Kit only just managed to catch.

No silver... fire... distraction...

Kit didn't have time to question him before glass shattered across the ground and the heady smell of gasoline splattered through the air. The wolves howled as it soaked into their fur, struggling to back away in time to avoid Leo's hand descending towards them in a fiery arc.

Kit's lips tugged up into a grin, his laughter replacing Lycaon's as the wolf man paused to analyse the new wall of flames. Several of his wolves had retreated into the forest, rolling around in the snow as their fur smouldered and soft flesh burned. Kit and the others were still outnumbered, but the difference wasn't as severe now. They'd have a chance, if they could just find some silver, and Lycaon knew it.

"Aw, c'mon," Kit heard Hedge mutter and stomp his feet. "I can't hit them if they're way over there."

"I think that's for the best, Coach," Piper retorted. She was still swaying on the spot, hands trembling far too much to even attempt to hold her weapon. Really, it was only four of them against the wolves, but Piper would have Kit's head if he said such a thing.

Leo shot several more balls of fire into the gasoline, but the effect was slowly beginning to die down. Some of the wolves returned, snarling for revenge, and Leo's eyes were fluttering with exhaustion. "I can't summon any more gas," he exclaimed, to which his face flushed almost violently. "Wow, that came out wrong. I mean the burning kind."

"I'm sure you did, Leo," Kit smirked.

Leo scowled but didn't cave in to his teasing. Instead, he turned to Jason, waiting for his next move. "It's gonna take the tool belt a while to recharge," he warned. "What have you got, man?"

He expected Jason to have all the answers -- hell, he even looked at Kit with some kind of hopeful stare. But neither boy knew what to do. Both had come to the same realisation that beyond Leo's trick with the fire, they were fresh out of luck.

"Nothing," Jason sighed. "Not even a weapon that works."

"Lightning?" Piper asked desperately.

He shook his head, staring down at his hands like he didn't even recognise his own body anymore. "I think the snow storm is interfering or something."

"Well, unleash the venti."

"But when we'll have nothing to give Aeolus. We'll have come all this way for nothing."

Kit's jaw locked in an obvious effort to keep calm. He was sick of this useless feeling, sick of all the monsters they'd faced backing them into a corner. He longed to tear Lycaon apart with his own hands, to dig and dig until his skin flaked away and Kit found his cold, dead heart to crush. He didn't need a sword, he would be the sword if it meant that Lycaon's laughter stopped.

"I can smell your fear," he was cackling through the dying flames. "A few more minutes of life, heroes. Pray to whatever Gods you wish. Zeus did not grant me mercy, and you will have none from me."

As it happened, a few minutes turned out to be only a few seconds. The last of the heat faded away, revealing a severely pissed off pack of wolves and their madly grinning alpha. Jason cursed at the sight, Latin and unfamiliar, and dropped into a crouch like he expected to go into hand-to-hand combat. He still had his sword, not that it would be much use. Beside him, Leo pulled his hammer out of his pack again, catching Kit's eyes and grinning like this was some kind of sport rather than reality. Kit sighed and copied his actions, throwing his useless weapon to the side and cracking his knuckles in preparation.

He knew he would fight until his last breath, until Lycaon's blood was beneath his fingernails, his and his alone.

This was a life that Kit Dempsey did not fear taking.

Even if that meant he took Lycaon's place as the monster instead.

All of a sudden, the air seemed to warp as one singular silver arrow defied gravity. In a blink, it struck through the chest of an oblivious wolf. The animal was quick to fall, his body melting into the muddy ground below. Lycaon barely had time to roar in warning before dozens and dozens of matching arrows followed the first. Several wolves fell in seconds, thinning out the blockade Lycaon had been using as protection. Kit watched with avid interest as one arrow pierced through the wolf man's shoulder while another left a charred, smoking gash across his chest.

Lycaon howled, throwing his head back to shout "Curse them!" at the heavens. As the last of his pack turned and ran, he fixed his eyes on Jason, hissing at him, "This isn't over, boy."

Then, before Jason could retort and declare that it was, the shadows parted to let him flee.

"Okay," Leo breathed into the sudden silence. "What the fuck was that?"

He turned to Kit for an answer, but the son of Ares remained tight-lipped, refusing to tear his eyes away from the forest. Something was out there, something that had taken out most of Lycaon's infamous pack with ease. What was to say they wouldn't come for them next? Come for him?

A few wolves howled and growled, but this sound was different. Moments later, a smaller wolf, this one with white fur and bright eyes, came bounding into the cave followed by two others. It didn't seem threatening, but Kit didn't trust it. Wolves couldn't shoot arrows at other wolves, so someone or something else had to be with them.

Seconds trickled into minutes with the wolves regarding them, watching and waiting. Piper and Hedge were arguing about whether or not Hedge was allowed to hit them with his club when the much-anticipated masters arrived. Kit's heart sank as a troop of hunters dressed in white-and-grey came marching right for them. The one at the front was someone he recognised, someone he knew wouldn't hesitate to skewer one of those shiny silver arrows of hers through his heart. He searched around the cave in vain, looking for something, anything, that would conceal him from Thalia Grace for a moment longer.

"So close," the sister of Jason sighed, sparing a wistful glance in the direction that Lycaon had disappeared in. The countdown began in Kit's head. "Phoebe, stay with me. Watch the entrance. The rest of you, follow Lycaon. We can't lose him now. I'll catch up with you."

The hunters of Artemis didn't hesitate to follow Thalia's command. With bowed heads, they set off after Lycaon and his pack, their footsteps silent in the snow. Once they were out of sight, Thalia turned to the group, scanning their faces one by one. "We've been following that demon's trail for over a week," she said, not yet noticing Kit. "Is everyone alright? No one got bit?"

In retrospect, he should've just accepted his fate. But the second Thalia's gaze locked on him and she surged forward with a furious shout, Kit fought. There was something about fighting Thalia, fighting friends, that had always stunned Kit into failure when it came to battle. Ironic, really, for that was all he was good for. He managed to get one hard hit against her jaw before she flipped him over her shoulder and onto his back, muscled arms wrapping around his neck in a tight choke-hold.

"Thalia," Piper cried, voice shimmering with charmspeak. "Thalia, stop."

If Kit had been paying much attention, he would've seen the others' reactions. Piper was disapproving, eyes narrowed and focused on Thalia's arms around Kit. Gleeson was cheering for the girl, urging her to snap his traitorous neck and feed him to her wolves. Jason seemed stunned, caught between gaping at Kit and the blooming bruise he'd left on Thalia's jaw, and accepting the fact that his sister was right there in front of him. They looked nothing alike, choppy black hair clashing with golden blonde, but their blood ran deeper than appearances. As for Leo; well, he just seemed shocked, though Kit would've caught a flash of worry in his eyes if he'd really been looking.

But instead, he was too busy kicking his legs like some rabid animal, hissing insults at Thalia that she was quick to return.

"Thalia," Piper repeated again.

Thalia froze. "Do I know you?" she spat, suddenly wary of the crowd Kit was running with. Sure, Gleeson was there, but these were demigods that Thalia had never seen before. The last she heard about Kit, he was lurking around Camp Half-Blood like a bad smell, stubbornly tight-lipped and unapologetic. For all she knew, these were other supporters of Kronos, friends Kit had made during his time on the other side.

Piper inhaled sharply, sparing an uncertain glance at Jason that seemed to bring him back to his senses. "This might be a shock, but--"

"Thalia." When Jason stepped forward, voice trembling, something familiar flashed in Thalia's eyes. She recognised him, but she didn't know where from. Her hold slowly began to loosen on Kit, allowing air to rush back into his burning lungs. "I'm Jason, your brother."

With that, she let go of Kit completely. He didn't hesitate to shove her away, scrambling through the dirt to where she wouldn't be able to reach him. He wanted to shout, to grab his sword and turn it back on her, but he hesitated upon grabbing the weapon and spinning around to face her. She looked so sad, but so happy all the same. She looked like a sister mourning for the brother she lost, the brother she had found that was a stranger to her.

It was how Dominque, how Nettie, how Clarisse once looked at him.

How they'd never look at him again.

All at once, the fury in Kit died down. His sword clattered against the ground, though no one but Leo turned to search for the sound. Leo's eyes almost immediately softened, flickering across the irritated red mark on Kit's neck before he reached down to take his hand. His fingers were warm around his, an electric touch, but Kit couldn't look away from Jason and Thalia to pay attention to it, to the way that Leo carefully helped him to his feet.

He couldn't be there anymore with his swelling heart. The cave was boiling hot after Leo's move with the fire. He needed to breathe. Why couldn't he breathe?

He tore past the reunited siblings without looking back, tugging at the colour of his jacket as he went. He thought he'd feel better outside with the wind on his face, but even the air out in the open was hot. It pricked at his insides, closed the airways of his throat again, and Kit was entirely alone to face it.

Perhaps he shouldn't have fought Thalia.

Perhaps he should've just let her win.