Nightwolves Siren's Song: Memoirs of the Nightwolves Series

Chapter One

White moves first

Cassie and I were late for the meeting in the war room at the base in Truax Field with General Pierce and the Nightwolves. We had been paged right in the middle of healing some soldiers in the East Wing of the base hospital and couldn’t stop what we were doing to answer our pagers. It was a hazard of the job of being mercenary, as well as magick users, who couldn’t ignore the pain of a wounded soldier. Using our gifts for good has always been a priority in our training, but lately, times have made it seem we used our gifts mostly for defense, rather than for good deeds. We had been trying to rectify that by spending more time in the hospital at Naval Air Station, more commonly known as Truax Field, and volunteering time as nurse’s aides at the local hospital in Corpus Christi, Texas.
Though, we had to hide what we were doing from the locals and even had to watch ourselves on the base, where they sort of knew what we were doing, but pretended ignorance for the sake of budget and personnel cuts. We couldn’t be too obvious in our healings in either place, lest word got out witches were real and burning us females at the stake became all the rage again. I definitely wasn’t into torture; which I'd found out recently and would happily pass up being ousted as a witch.
I really was a witch, but I was also more than just that and not one of the evil kind. However, after having just recently healed, both physically and psychically, from being tortured by an evil General who was also a High Dark Adept, who was trying the 'ole rule the world' ploy (which when you think about it, it's really a stupid plan). It’s been tried so often before by others, it’s practically a cliché now. Movies, books and real life evil-doers have been trying the same 'ole, same 'ole, for so long. Can’t the bad guys think of anything new to try, to ruin someone’s good day? I mean, come on! Although, what I thought was worse than wicked bad guys, were people who, either out of ignorance or just plain stupidity, helped the bad guys by vilifying the good guys, like us. Yes, we may be different and yes, we may be magick users, but that didn’t make us worthy of death. The Gods and Goddesses themselves put our spiritual bodies into human infants to be borne by human mothers so we could grow up and help save the world from those who would enslave it. Yet, because of what we were, half demi-God children and witches, we would still, to this day, be burned at the stake, if the sheeple could get away with it. Then, who would protect them and this world from the dark covens and dark Gods, hmm?
Stupid mortal humans, I grumbled to myself. Why we risked ourselves to save this dumb assed planet full of sheeple sometimes eluded me, until one of my mates would point out some smiling infant with wide, beautiful, innocent eyes that hadn’t been shut closed by this world’s society yet. Then the baby would burst into a joyful giggle when they saw me. Every time I saw one of those cute, chubby cheeked babies, my heart would melt and I would pray this child would grow up smarter and more tolerant than his or her parents. That would make all this crap worth it then.
My attitude had been mellowing so much lately though that I couldn’t even get up the old angst of how much I really hated people in general. My mates were the culprits in taming my usual hot temper, turning me into a much more relaxed version of my usual self. Everyone, at one point or another, has done double turns at watching me smile for no apparent reason. Smiling wasn’t what I usually did. Snarling, sneering or throwing wicked evil grins was more my style, but lately, I just couldn’t tap into the anger needed for any of that. I had found my happy place and my mates were the center of that warm safe retreat. No one was used to it; even the General looked at me oddly from time to time these days. I couldn’t even care enough for that as I looked around my environment and remembered how blue and clear the sky was this morning as we rode to the base for the big test to see if I had healed enough, on all levels inside, to use my powers without causing my brain any more damage. I smiled happily as my sister and I walked down the long corridor to the war room to meet up with the rest of the team for the big meeting.
My sister took a long sideways glance at me, but she wasn’t smiling. “Sister…”
“Hmmm?”
“Are you sure you are all right?”
I looked at her, and asked, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Her expression grew pensive. “We have noticed how distracted you've been lately. Not that anyone could blame you.”
“Distracted?”
“Well, yes. Distracted would be the best word to use. It’s just that you haven’t really gone after General Robertson like we had expected you to.”
I stopped walking and turned to her. “Shamus said not to use my power to even tap into the watcher. Everyone has been on my case about not using my powers so I don’t blow anymore blood vessels in my brain, and now I have been distracted?” Volume three: Nightwolves Siren's Song is a strategic game of chess moves for both players of light and dark. Catrina must not only try to save herself, but her children who have picked a bad time to go through their rites of passage into adulthood. Catrina must stand aside as her eldest son, Christoph is called away for a dangerous quest. General Robertson has a well laid plan of trapping Catrina using his spy to curse Crimson. The mate of a Voodoo Maven has Craven marked for possession to control his ever growing powers as a Dire Wolf. Can Catrina avoid the traps and shield her children before the timer runs out?