Greykin Mountain

| 9 | The Grey Blood Pack

          "How long have you been moving like this? To get away from the zombies?" he asked, glancing over at Tokala.

          Scratching the side of his face, he pondered. "Huh...a lot longer than I'd like to admit. The cadejo were usually pretty scarce—we'd see one or two a week, but lately, we've been seeing them every day."

          "Do they hunt wolf walkers?"

          "They seek us out to kill us, yes. We don't know why, nor do we know where they came from. They just appeared and increased rapidly. It only takes a bite and about thirty seconds to turn a wolf walker into one of them, so it's not surprising how fast they multiplied. We thought they just wanted to turn us, but they kill more than they turn. Just like us, they have to eat, and the only thing that seems to sate them is wolf walkers."

          A cold shiver raced down Jackson's spine. Cadejo ate wolf walkers. Then...why hadn't that cadejo tried eating him last night? Why had it just stared at him? Should he ask Tokala that, or would it draw more attention to him? He didn't want to risk prompting another debate over his life.

          He sighed, pinching his food between his fingers. "Is that why Damon had to kill that wolf last night?"

          "It was a mercy. Cadejo are mindless creatures. Their bite kills everything a wolf walker is—their mind, their memories, their will. Killing them before they turn is the kindest thing we can do for anyone who gets bitten."

          That only horrified Jackson more. He didn't want to think about it. He knew all he needed to know. One bite, and that was it.

          So why hadn't he turned?

          He frowned, staring down at his food.

          "There were a lot more of us before. About three times as many as we are now. Our packhouse was up in Greykin Hills, but that was where we had our first encounter with the cadejo."

          Why was Tokala telling him all of this? He appreciated the information, but this guy was just spilling all over him...yet it was near impossible to get even a sentence out of Damon.

          He looked up at him. "I don't...mean to be rude or anything, but why are you telling me all of this? I'm a rogue, aren't I? Doesn't that exclude me from knowing stuff about you?"

          "I'm Alpha Damon's Beta, therefore, a teacher. I get all the wolves ready for whatever, whenever. Alpha Damon wants to keep you around, so it's my job to make sure you don't get yourself killed because you don't know a thing about Greykin or wolf walkers."

          That made sense. "Oh...thank you, I guess. I've tried asking Damon stuff, but he just tells me to shut up."

          "Yeah, he's a bit of a recluse. He does his best, but he's seen a lot of shit—it's left its mark."

          "Like what?"

          "Can't tell you that, kid. What I can tell you is that you should make sure to be totally honest with him. If he asks you a question, tell him the truth. He's stuck his neck out for you, so don't throw that back in his face. Rogues would usually be chased off, but not you."

          "Why?"

          "I don't know. You got bitten by a cadejo, and not only did you live, but you also didn't turn. I think he wants to see what happens."

          "Nothing's happening," he mumbled.

          "Yet."

          Jackson glanced up at him. "So he thinks something is going to happen?"