Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [64]
“The Council?”
“It’s sort of a governing group of clan leaders based here in the States. A representative from every major family in the Americas and most of Western Europe meet every few years, more often if something comes up. An emergency session was held to decide how to handle the Bolvek situation. My father and his younger brother, Jeremy, worked to dismantle their organization. They were gone for more than a year and a half,” he quietly admitted. “He doesn’t talk a lot about it. The situation was a lot worse than they’d expected.”
“In what way?”
Braden shifted uncomfortably. “The Bolveks had been building an army…They’d been turning kids, Beth. Many in their early teens. Some as young as six or seven. A half dozen compounds were discovered littered throughout the Carpathians. All of them had packs of feral juveniles. The Council made the decision to hit them simultaneously—isolate the young wolves, kill the adults.”
Beth pulled her legs to her chest, trying to digest what she was hearing.
“A lot of good people died in those raids. They simply weren’t prepared for the juvenile wolves to fight them…” He trailed off, his gaze wandering the room.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and voiced the question on the tip of her tongue. “And the kids?”
“A lot of them were subdued, some of them escaped. But several were killed in the fighting. It still bothers my father. It took more than a year and a half, but ultimately, the Bolvek ranks were devastated. They never managed to reorganize and recover.”
“I guess that explains a lot.”
“Yeah, but not everything. You should know, Beth, that the Bolveks hold our family personally responsible for the destruction of their clan.”
“Why? If it was the Council’s decision…”
“Because it was my father and his brother that led the raid on their main compound. Markko was hardly an only child—he’s actually one of the youngest. Three of his older brothers and two of his uncles were killed in the raid. Markko and his younger brother Ivan escaped that night with their father, Viktor. But not before they witnessed the destruction of the majority of their clan. My Uncle Jeremy died that night.”
Braden gently gripped her elbow and pulled her up from the bed, guiding her toward the door. “You have to understand, Beth. As far as Markko’s concerned, you’re affiliated with our family now. That alone would be reason enough to hate you. That you killed his brother ensures that he’s not going to stop coming after you. Not until you’re dead.” He paused in the doorway. “I know you’re angry, God knows you’ve got every right, but you’re safest here with us. Let us help. Please.”
Head racing with everything he’d divulged, all she could do was shrug.
“Alright. How about breakfast?” he asked, gesturing toward the stairs.
Her stomach growled at the thought of food and she tucked away her whirling thoughts for the time being. There’d be time to examine them later. Braden pressed close behind her as they ascended the stairs, heating her back and infusing her awareness with him. The way he moved, the way he smelled…
Beth derailed that train of thought before it led her down a dangerous path. The moment they were in the hallway she lengthened her stride to put some distance between them.
They crossed through a huge family room, honey-colored wood floors gleaming in the morning sun streaming through the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Two huge leather sofas bracketed a large river stone fireplace on the far wall. A book lay facedown on the arm of the sofa, waiting for the reader to return. She felt as if she were looking at the room through the lens of a filmmaker’s camera. The picture was warm and inviting, but she felt strangely disconnected to it, as though it were a hollow imitation of the real thing.
“This used to be our weekend home when I was a kid. My parents moved out here permanently after my dad retired,” Braden said, breaking the silence between them.
Beth turned to face him. “And where, exactly, is here?” She tried to keep her tone flat and neutral.
Braden