The following afternoon, Howard and his team arrived at his grandfather’s house on Paw Island. His cousins were sent home, two houses down the street, so their parents would know the boys were all right. A quick check in the basement assured him that Dougal had safely teleported back the night before and was now in his death-sleep.
Phil settled in the small family room with Howard’s grandfather, Walter, and they found a baseball game to watch on TV. Howard greeted his mother, who was busy in the kitchen, then hurried down the narrow hallway to his old bedroom.
While his laptop booted up, he looked around. The twin bed still sported an NFL comforter in red, white, and blue, and the small window had matching curtains, although faded to the point that the names of football teams were barely legible. His old trophies were still lined up on the dresser.
He sighed, remembering how much his mother had cried when he’d left for college. He’d kept in touch with her over the years, and she’d always pretended like he was coming home to visit soon. He hadn’t reminded her that he could never return. He knew if he mentioned his banishment, she would burst into tears.
He dragged a hand through his hair. His mother had suffered too much because of him. She acted like everything was rosy now that he was home, but when he gazed around his old room, he cringed at the thought of his mother keeping it exactly the same for twenty years. The poor woman had lost her husband, and then years later, when Howard was eighteen, she’d lost him, too.
After he’d tossed Rhett Bleddyn off the cliff, Rhett’s father had threatened to annihilate the were-bear community if Howard wasn’t punished, so the Council of Elders, which included his grandfather, had banished him for life. But Howard no longer felt obligated to honor the old decree, not when he obviously hadn’t managed to kill Rhett. Rhett’s father had passed away a year ago, and Rhett had emerged from hiding to become the new Pack Master. As far as Howard was concerned, he could now go home whenever he wanted. And he’d make sure that Rhett finally paid for his crimes.
He sat at his small desk where he used to do homework and downloaded the flash drive onto his laptop. He’d managed to steal a ton of information. Bank accounts, financial records, files on all of Rhett’s minions. Just as Howard suspected, Rhett wielded a huge amount of political power. One Alaskan senator and several congressmen were actually werewolves who had sworn allegiance to the Bleddyn family. Rhett also controlled numerous Lycan politicians at the state and local levels.
Rhett’s financial records revealed a tangled web of businesses and organizations from all over the world. His net worth was easily over two hundred million, with bank accounts not just in Alaska but in Canada, New York, Switzerland, Hong Kong, Australia, and Singapore, as well. The tangled design appeared purposeful, so that money could be shifted around, even hidden, and it would be difficult for Rhett’s business partners and shareholders to know what he was up to.
No doubt, if Howard had broken into one of Rhett’s numerous business offices in Alaska, the records for that business would appear clean. But he’d hacked into Rhett’s personal computer, hoping it would pay off. And it did. After an hour of digging around, he discovered Rhett’s dirty little secret.
Rhett had a hidden bank account in the Cayman Islands under the name of a bogus business. And there, he had been paying himself a salary of five million a year. The account now had fifty million in it, so he’d been embezzling from his other businesses for ten years.
Fifty million. Howard smiled. If he spent some money from the secret account, what could Rhett do? A police investigation would reveal the company as bogus, and he’d be in big trouble. Hoisted by his own petard.
“Thanks for the play money, Rhett.”
Howard compiled a list of all candidates who were running against Rhett’s political puppets, and then, using an untraceable Internet card, he made hefty donations to their campaigns. He chuckled, imagining how Rhett’s puppets would react when they discovered their master was suddenly supporting their opponents.
His friend Harry had been investigating Rhett’s activities, and he’d learned that the bastard had been harassing small towns that were in debt, trying to buy them out so he could turn them into exclusive werewolf communities. The mortals would be given a cruel choice: leave their land or be forced to become werewolves. Howard donated ten million to the towns so they could fight back.
“What else?” he murmured to himself as he tapped his fingers on the desk. A vision of the polar bear rug drifted into his mind and he smiled.
“That’s going to be one expensive rug, Rhett.” He donated five million dollars to a polar bear conservation program.
When he was done, he’d spent over half the money in the secret account. Howard sat back, staring at the computer screen. He needed to muddy the water, make it difficult to trace his movements.
“How about a shell game, Rhett?” For the next thirty minutes, he transferred chunks of money from one account to another, from one country to another. Before it had been a tangled web, but now it was a multiple train wreck. It would take Rhett months to figure out what the hell had happened.
To finish up, Howard e-mailed some incriminating evidence to Harry so the reporter could leak the news to the Northern Lights Sound Bites over the next few days. Harry was a talented enough journalist that he could write for a more prestigious paper, but he enjoyed writing for a tabloid, where he had the freedom to poke fun at Rhett and his minions without fear of being sued or reported for violation of journalistic ethics. No one questioned his claim that werewolves were real, not when his articles were in the same paper with stories about Bigfoot and alien abductions.
Smiling to himself, Howard sauntered into the family room. His grandfather, Walter, was resting in his worn-out recliner, half asleep but with the remote control still clutched in his hand, while Phil sprawled on the nearby couch. An ice chest filled with bottles of beer rested on the floor beside them.
Phil sat up. “Are you done?”
Howard nodded. “I just spent thirty-five million dollars.”
“What?” Walter blinked awake and yanked his recliner into a sitting position. “Where the hell did you get that much money?”
“It was a gift from Rhett Bleddyn.”
Walter snorted and turned off the television. “The only gift he’d give you is a bullet between the eyes.”
Howard’s smile widened. “The feeling is mutual.”
“You spent thirty-five million of Rhett’s money?” Phil asked.
Howard nodded and explained the details.
Phil laughed. “I’d like to see how his political puppets react. It’s going to be a bloody dog fight.”
Walter’s mouth twitched, but he aimed a glare at Howard. “You shouldn’t be stealing, boy. I taught you better than that.”
Boy? Howard groaned inwardly. His grandfather and mom acted like he was still eighteen and had been away only twenty days instead of twenty years. But since a were-bear could easily live for five hundred years, twenty years might not seem that long to his elders. “I only used the money that Rhett had stolen. He started it. Besides, I want to make him suffer.”
Walter nodded with a resigned look. “I can’t blame you for that. The bastard deserves to suffer.”
Phil leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “So Rhett killed your girlfriend?”
“It was a long time ago,” Howard replied quickly to stop Phil’s fishing for more information. “Hand me one of those beers. We should be celebrating. Two of Rhett’s houses have been destroyed, and now we’ve done serious damage to his finances and political power.”
“Congratulations.” Phil passed him a cold bottle. “What’s your next move?”
Howard twisted off the top. “Rhett’s planning to run for governor, so we’ll ruin his reputation.” He took a sip. “It won’t be that hard, actually. We’ll just tell the truth about his shady financial deals. I e-mailed the proof to Harry, so he can leak it anonymously to the newspaper.”
With a sigh, Walter opened another bottle of beer. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”
“We’re covering our tracks,” Howard assured him. “Rhett won’t be able to prove that we’ve done anything.”
“He doesn’t need proof, son. His family has always been ruthless. They hurt innocent people all the time.”
Howard’s heart stilled in his chest for a few seconds. Had he made an error in his strategy? He’d assumed Rhett would react logically, searching for proof before he retaliated. But what if he flew into a rage and attacked the were-bear community? “Rhett has so many enemies. I thought you would be safe as long as he had no proof.”
Walter regarded him sadly. “All he has to do is think about who hates him the most, and he’ll know it was you.”
Howard closed his eyes briefly. Damn. He’d let his hunger for revenge consume him to the point that he’d blindly assumed he could protect his people.
“You think Rhett will attack these islands?” Phil asked.
“It’s possible.” Howard slumped into the easy chair next to his grandfather. “I’m sorry, Grandpa.”
Walter shrugged. “I thought about stopping you, but I’m tired of catering to those bastards.” He drank some beer. “What the hell, Rhett can come here if he wants. I’ve got a shotgun with his name on it.”
Howard frowned. “They outnumber us.”
“Let them try something,” Walter growled. “We’re on a damned island. If they try to land a boat here, we’ll blast them out of the water.”
Howard nodded. “You’re in a good defensive position. Post guards around the island, and make sure no one lands without your approval.” He groaned, thinking about all the innocent were-bears in the community. “I shouldn’t have done this.”
Walter grunted and drank more beer. “We should have done this twenty years ago when Rhett’s father threatened to annihilate us.”
“What exactly happened twenty years ago?” Phil asked.
“Nothing,” Howard said quickly.
“Nothing? We thought you’d killed Rhett.” Walter turned to Phil. “The only way I could stop Rhett’s father from attacking us was to banish my own grandson.” He shook his head, frowning. “I shouldn’t have agreed to it. It wasn’t fair to you.”
“You did the right thing.” Howard patted his grandfather’s arm. “You had the whole community here to protect. You couldn’t put them at risk because of something I had done.”
“Rhett deserved to die,” Walter grumbled. “When I think about what he did to that poor girl—”
“It’s over and done with,” Howard interrupted, letting his grandfather know he didn’t want to discuss Carly.
Walter finished his beer, then clunked the empty bottle on the side table. “It’s not your fault, Howard. It’s that damned curse.”
Howard groaned. Not that again. Whenever his grandfather had too much to drink, he blathered on and on about a stupid curse.
“There’s a curse?” Phil asked.
“Don’t get him started,” Howard warned him. “It’s a load of crap.”
“It’s our history!” Walter gave him an indignant look. “Are you calling our history crap?”
“The curse is crap,” Howard muttered. “It’s a cowardly way to dodge accountability. If the werewolves attack us because of the game I’m playing, then I take full responsibility.”
Walter shook his head. “Our race has been dying out for generations. And we roamed the earth, suffering, for a thousand years. All because of the curse.”
“It sounds interesting,” Phil said.
“Oh, it is,” Walter agreed, his eyes lighting up. “It starts with the legend of how we came to be. Pass me another beer, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
With a groan, Howard leaned his head back on the seat cushion and stared at the ceiling. He’d heard this story four times in the last month and about a thousand times in his youth. “It’s a stupid fairy tale.”
Walter huffed as he opened another beer bottle. “There aren’t any damned fairies in our legend. We’re descended from fierce warriors.”
“Fine,” Howard grumbled. “But do us a favor and tell us the abridged version.”
“There is no abridged version—”
“Oh yeah?” Howard interrupted, sitting up. “We had a magical guardian who created us with some weird hocus-pocus, and then the jerk betrayed us. End of story.”
“It’s not the end until we find our guardian and get her to lift the curse,” Walter insisted.
“Her?” Phil asked. “Your guardian is female?”
Howard snorted. “She’s nonexistent.”
“They were real. The guardians are real.” Walter gulped down some beer and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. “All right. Once upon a time—”
“Told you it was a fairy tale,” Howard mumbled.
Walter glared at him. “Once upon a damned time, there were three magical sisters. Guardians, we called them, for they guarded our village in Norway. The oldest was the Guardian of the Sea, ’cause she could talk to the creatures of the sea. The middle one was the Guardian of the Forest, and she talked to the woodland creatures. The youngest, the Guardian of the Sky, spoke to birds.”
Phil nodded. “Cool.”
“Eagles would warn the youngest sister if an enemy was coming over the mountain,” Walter continued. “And the birds of prey would attack them, scaring them away. If the enemy came by sea, the seals would warn the oldest sister. Then she would ask the whales to capsize the boats. Over the years, the village flourished, the three sisters had daughters who inherited their powers, and all was well for many generations.”
“Till they all died of boredom,” Howard grumbled.
“That’s not how it goes, and you know it.” Walter scowled at him.
Howard stood and ambled toward his bedroom. “I’m going to see if Harry got my e-mail.”
“You’ll miss the best part,” Walter called after him.
With a snort, Howard shut his bedroom door. The last thing he wanted to hear was how some magical Guardian of the Forest had created a bunch of berserkers. He wasn’t sure how his ancestors had come into being, but it had happened over a thousand years ago, so as far as he was concerned, it no longer mattered. He called Harry, and they discussed their strategy for ruining Rhett’s reputation.
Thirty minutes later, he returned to the family room.
Phil looked up from the couch, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You never told me you’re a berserker.”
Howard arched an eyebrow at him. “Do I look crazy to you?” When Phil grinned, he muttered, “Don’t answer that.”
Walter motioned toward the werewolf. “Phil agrees with me that if we find our guardian, we could convince her to lift the curse.”
Howard scoffed. “There is no curse. And there’s no guardian.”
Walter scowled at him. “How can you deny your own heritage?”
“I don’t deny being a were-bear. Or the descendant of a berserker,” Howard replied. “But the curse is crap. We’re responsible for our own decisions in life. And I seriously doubt the guardians ever existed. If we did have one, she betrayed us, so good riddance.”
“There could still be guardians out there,” Walter insisted. “There were three sisters, and they had daughters.”
Phil nodded. “It makes sense. If your line survived, then their line could have survived, too.”
Howard gave him an incredulous look. “Are you actually buying into this nonsense?”
Phil shrugged. “I know it’s bizarre, but my ancestors have a weird history, too. We were created by some Celtic wizards in ancient Wales. If my story is true, why wouldn’t there be some truth to your grandfather’s story?”
“Exactly.” Walter finished his beer and set the bottle down with a clunk. “So all we have to do is find our guardian.”
Howard snorted. “Fine. I’ll put an ad on Craigslist. Wanted: single female willing to be guardian to a pack of grizzly were-bears. Warning: former guardian murdered on the job. Yeah, that’ll work.”
Phil chuckled. “Even if some lady was crazy enough to respond, how would you know if she was an actual guardian?”
Howard shrugged. “Who knows? It’s a load of crap.”
“You would know,” Walter said quietly.
“How?” Howard asked.
Walter paused for a moment, considering. “I’m not sure. But somehow, you would know.”
Howard gave him a wry look. “I’m not looking for an imaginary woman.”
“How about a real one?” his mother said from the doorway, her eyes sparkling with humor. “But first, come and eat your supper.”
After their late supper, Howard went back to his room to check his e-mail. Angus had sent a message, demanding that he and Phil return to New York immediately. The mission in Mexico wasn’t faring well, so Angus and Emma needed to go there and help out. That would leave Romatech and the school without security. Howard and Phil were supposed to report to the school by tomorrow night no later than ten o’clock.
Howard paced about his room, considering his options. The guys in Mexico were his friends. He couldn’t remain here if it jeopardized their mission. He also harbored strong protective instincts toward Tino and Sofia. He couldn’t leave them and the other children at the academy unguarded. And then there was the Payback game he was playing. The shit was about to hit Rhett’s fan, and it might be better if he was far away when it happened. That way, Rhett might think one of his other enemies was responsible.
A few hours later, Dougal came up from the basement, a bottle of synthetic blood clutched in his mechanical hand.
“Angus left an urgent message on my phone.” He looked at Howard and Phil. “I have to teleport ye back tonight.”
Howard nodded. He’d already said his good-byes to his mother and grandfather. As long as he had his laptop with him, he could continue the game against Rhett.
“I understand.” He swung his packed duffel bag over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”