Wolf Tracks: Tales of the Were (Grizzly Cove Book 17)

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Wolf Tracks: Tales of the Were (Grizzly Cove Book 17) Page 6

by Bianca D’Arc


  “I can be ready to go in five minutes,” she told him, and surprisingly, she knew it wasn’t a boast.

  Whatever else their kiss had accomplished, it had somehow given her a jolt of much-needed energy. Where before she’d barely been able to stand to get to the bathroom, after their kiss, she felt ready to walk. She wouldn’t be turning cartwheels for a while yet, but at least she felt good enough to leave and get to the airport, or wherever this mysterious plane of Ezra’s was waiting.

  “Are you sure?” He looked at her as if she were a bug under a microscope. She didn’t like that. She shrugged out of his hold.

  “I’m sure. Let me just clean up and get my stuff together.” So saying, she set to work.

  Jim watched her for a moment before shrugging and limping into the bathroom. When he came out, he was a bit cleaner. He’d rinsed off the blood she hadn’t already taken care of last night. He’d also washed his hair. It stood in dark, spiky strands going in every direction as he rubbed a towel over his head.

  “I brought some clothes for you,” she said, tossing a T-shirt and pair of sweatpants in his direction.

  “Thanks,” he replied, an odd note in his tone, as if men’s clothing was the very last thing he’d expected her to pull out of her bag of tricks. She discovered that she liked surprising him.

  He’d been wearing boxers—the only item of his own clothing that had survived his encounter with the hyenas. He sat on the side of the bed to aid himself in sliding the pants on without jarring his bandaged leg too much. Helen would have helped, but she was familiar with the male ego from dealing with her brothers. Also, she really did need to sanitize this room, erasing as much of their presence from it as she could. It wouldn’t do to leave a trail for the hyenas—or anyone else—to follow.

  She pulled a travel-sized box of black garbage sacks she’d brought with her out of her bag. Opening one of the large garbage sacks, she put all the remnants of Jim’s torn clothing, plus all the bloody garbage she’d accumulated treating him. The plastic tablecloth from the bed went in, as well, plus anything else that might have traces of his blood on it. She squished that down to a surprisingly small bundle, once the air was out of the sack, and tied it off. That went into her large beach bag as she looked around the room to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

  She took the television remote control and switched the set to the remote checkout option. Leaving the key cards on the table next to the TV, she opted to have the receipt sent to her via email. That done, she cast her eyes around the room again.

  Helen judged she had enough magical energy left to give the room a quick zap, using her affinity for blood and anything that came from the body, to vaporize any residual evidence of their presence. There wouldn’t be a single strand of DNA left to identify them once she was through. She went to the door of the hotel room where Jim was waiting for her, an odd expression on his face as he watched her.

  “You’re doing some kind of magic, aren’t you?” he asked, a note of suspicion in his tone.

  “Just a little zap,” she told him. “My healing ability gives me an affinity for anything that comes from a living organism. I can use my power to zap it—even on a microscopic level—so that nothing identifiable remains. No DNA. No trace that could identify either of us.”

  “Seriously?” He looked genuinely surprised…and impressed, if she was any judge. She nodded in answer. “Wow. Okay.” He looked around. “I guess if you can do that as we leave, then we’re good to go. Does it drain you?” he added, concerned, which made her feel oddly touched.

  “Very little,” she assured him. “As long as I have at least some reserve energy, I can spare a bit for this. It doesn’t take much.”

  “That’s…handy,” he said. She had the impression he would’ve said more, if they’d had time, but he was already peering out the peephole in the hotel room door.

  “Wait,” she told him, reaching into her giant bag again. She pulled out baseball caps and handed him one. “Hotel hallways all have cameras these days. It’s not much, but at least if we keep our heads down, they shouldn’t get a clear shot of our faces.”

  “If you pull a trombone out of that bag next, I wouldn’t be surprised,” he observed with dry humor. She laughed and shook her head.

  “Sorry. No musical instruments, though I was tempted to pack the kitchen sink, but my mother needed it at home.” He chuckled in reply and resumed looking out the peephole.

  “It looks clear,” he said a moment later. “Stand back behind me. The range of view is limited on these things.”

  She moved back and remained alert as he opened the door. He stepped out and looked around casually, as if turning to escort her out of the room. She had to hand it to him. His motions didn’t look the least bit furtive and wouldn’t raise any eyebrows if anyone happened to be watching the hallway at that moment—or looking at the recording sometime later.

  Keeping their heads down, they walked out the exit door at the end of the hallway. Their vehicles weren’t far. It looked like nothing had been disturbed, and the small, nearly-invisible string Helen had tied as a telltale around her door handles was still intact. She was reasonably certain that nobody had messed with her car in the night.

  “We’ll take both vehicles,” Jim announced. “We shouldn’t leave either of them here in the public lot, but we can leave both safely at the airport hangar. It’s owned by an ally.”

  “Okay. I’ll have to follow you because I don’t know where we’re going,” she said, already heading for her door.

  “Just stay right behind me,” Jim cautioned. “I’m going to take some back roads. I was stationed at Norfolk for a couple of years and used to spend some of my leave here on the beach, so I know this area pretty well.”

  “Glad one of us does,” she muttered as she opened her car door. She heard his chuckle as he did the same with his pickup.

  “You have my cell number if you need to talk to me,” he reminded her just before they got into their cars.

  “I do,” she replied, meeting his gaze over the roof of her car. He seemed so serious all of a sudden.

  “All right then, follow me.” He got into his truck and started the engine as she did the same. She got the sense that he wanted to say more, but he opted for making tracks instead, which was probably a good idea.

  She followed him out of the parking lot onto the strip, where traffic was picking up as the morning matured into midday. Even in the off-season, the businesses here were being patronized by the locals and the few folks who came to visit even when it wasn’t prime beach weather. Helen stuck right behind his pickup through the traffic and onto the road that would lead them away from the beach. From there, he turned off onto side roads that she never would have dreamed of traveling if she’d been on her own.

  The roads twisted and turned, going from larger roads down to two-lane cow paths at times, as he used shortcuts and switchbacks. She figured he was trying to make it difficult for anyone trying to follow them. Still, he eventually brought them to a small airport.

  Helen had been imagining a commercial flight from a larger airport. This was no more than a rural airstrip with a few hangars where small planes were housed. There was an airstrip very similar to this near her family’s farm in rural Pennsylvania. She’d never flown in a small plane, but she’d seen them flying around the area often enough. One of her brothers had even taken a few flying lessons from one of the fellows at the airfield but hadn’t pursued it beyond the first few lessons.

  Helen followed Jim’s pickup truck into the airport and then toward a hangar on the far end of the airstrip. As he approached, the door to the massive building slowly opened, revealing a well-lit interior that was mostly empty, except for a somewhat larger airplane than the others parked around the field. This one, while still a small plane, boasted two prop engines, one on each wing. It also had little windows down the body of it, as if it was able to seat a number of passengers.

  Jim gave someone inside the hang
ar a hand signal out the window of his pickup and then drove slowly into the gaping doorway. Helen followed close behind. He pulled his pickup to the far corner of the building, and Helen did the same, parking right behind him. He got out, and she waited to see what would happen before doing the same.

  A woman came out of the shadows behind the plane, wiping her hands on a rag. She nodded to Jim and gazed over at Helen before turning back to Jim. They exchanged a few words while Helen got out of her car and made sure she had all her things. She didn’t know when she’d get back to her little car or how long it would sit here, among strangers, so it was important to take everything with her.

  Jim motioned her over when she shut the door of her vehicle. She walked the twenty feet or so to where he was still chatting with the woman. Tall and fit, the woman had to be a shifter of some kind. Helen felt short and distinctly small compared to both Jim and the Amazon, but she did her best not to let her intimidation show.

  “Helen, I’d like you to meet Leslie. She’s loaning us her airplane and will be looking after our vehicles for the next few days.”

  Leslie smiled and held out a hand. Helen reached forward to shake the Amazon’s hand and felt a little jolt of shifter magic. Yep. The lovely Leslie definitely had a furry side.

  “Pleased to meet you, and thank you for your help,” Helen murmured, feeling outclassed by the tall, blonde beauty.

  This was the kind of woman Jim belonged with. Not some short mage who had no offensive capabilities to speak of. He needed a warrior by his side, not a healer who had to be protected. Feeling a little down from her own thoughts, Helen was surprised when Leslie turned her full attention toward her.

  “You’re the healer,” she said, smiling. Helen looked more closely. It was a nervous smile. A cautious smile. Helen grew concerned.

  “I am.” Helen saw no need to hide her ability. Someone had to have briefed this woman about Jim and Helen and given the information to her. “Is there something I can help you with?” Sometimes, patients had to be coaxed.

  “If you would be so kind,” Leslie said hesitantly, “it’s my father. He’s human, you see. He’s been coughing an awful lot, and I’m really afraid it’s something bad, but he won’t go see a doctor.” Helen heard the heartbreak and fear in Leslie’s voice, and there was no question in Helen’s mind that she would try to help.

  “Take me to him,” she said without hesitation.

  “He’s in the office,” Leslie said, pointing to a little room built into the side of the hangar on the opposite corner.

  Helen didn’t wait but started walking, and the others followed her. This was something she could do. She knew her abilities, and healing was her major gift. It was her raison d’etre. The reason she’d been born. If she could help this woman, and her father, in return for the help Leslie was giving them, it would go a long way toward clearing the debt.

  But the feeling of owing them for their help was only a small part of it. Mostly, it was that Helen couldn’t stand to see someone in pain or ill or in denial about their health problems, if she could do something positive about it. She had an immense power inside her that could heal all sorts of things. It would be a sin not to use it.

  When Helen reached the door to the office, she stood aside to let Leslie go in first. The other woman gave Helen a nervous smile and opened the door, smiling brightly at the old man sitting at an ancient computer, scowling at rows of numbers.

  “Hey, Dad, I’ve brought some folks to meet you,” she said. “This is Jim Hanson, Arch’s nephew, and his friend, Helen.”

  “Arch’s nephew?” The old man’s face lit with a grin as he stood from behind the desk. “You don’t say!” He came around and shook Jim’s hand eagerly as Helen watched the way he moved. There was definitely something wrong there, but it didn’t look as dire as Leslie probably feared. Helen began to feel more confident about being able to help the man and relieve his daughter’s anxiety. “I served with your uncle for a while,” the man went on, grinning widely.

  “You were in the teams, sir?” Jim asked politely.

  “UDT they called us, in those days. Underwater Demolition Teams. Or frogmen. I always liked that one.” He grinned. “You have the look. Are you in, now?”

  “I was, sir. Retired recently. I’ve been working with Arch on special assignments since then,” Jim admitted. “In fact, we’re on one right now.” He stepped aside to let Helen move closer. “This is Helen. She’s not a shifter, but she’s got other special talents.”

  Helen was surprised when Jim spoke freely about shifters, but then again, even if this older man was human, he had to have been mated to a shifter woman if his daughter was a shifter. He probably knew a lot more about the unseen world than Helen did.

  “Sal Vaccaro,” the man said, introducing himself as he offered his hand to Helen.

  She took his hand in hers and then, she struck. Not in a bad way. But she used her power to freeze him in place while she did her work. If all went as planned, he would never know what she’d done. Jim was at her side as she worked. She was aware of Leslie rumbling a warning, but Helen was too focused on her work. This was tricky but relatively easy for a talent like hers. Humans were somewhat trivial to fix, although sometimes they took a lot of her energy depending on what was wrong with them.

  The contagion that was taking hold of Sal’s lungs was aggressive, but it was no match for Helen’s Light. She poured the Light of the Goddess into his lungs, destroying the thing that could easily have killed him if left unchecked. Even with modern medical intervention, he likely would not have survived, but she wouldn’t tell his daughter that. Leslie was clearly worried enough without thinking about what could have happened.

  A moment more and Helen released Sal’s hand, letting him resume as if only a moment had passed. She had a split second of dizziness from the expenditure of her own energy, but it passed easily. It was well worth it to know that barring any other problems, Sal would live well past one hundred years of age. He had a good constitution. His good genes meant that he would live long past the age of most humans of his generation, and the magic of his daughter around him all the time would only lengthen that lifespan.

  Now that was something she would be happy to tell Leslie. Helen figured it would ease Leslie’s concern a little. It was no good to live worried all the time. If Helen could help alleviate some of Leslie’s anxiety, she would do so, happily.

  Chapter Six

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vaccaro,” Helen said as the older man stepped back.

  “Please, call me Sal,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

  “Sal,” she repeated dutifully. “Is this your place?” she asked, looking around the office and motioning toward the open door to the larger space of the hangar.

  “Leslie runs charters and, yes, I still own the air field, though it’ll go to Leslie sooner or later,” he admitted with a grin to soften his words.

  “Later,” Helen told him. “Most definitely later. You’re going to celebrate a century and more, Sal. As long as you take care of yourself.”

  Sal looked surprised. Helen met Leslie’s eyes and saw happy tears gathering there. Helen nodded and turned back to Sal.

  “I’d listen to the lady, sir,” Jim offered. “She’s a healer of great power. Just last night, I was attacked by four hyena shifters and ripped to shreds. Helen brought me back from the brink, and I’m almost good as new today—and that’s not all just due to shifter metabolism. She’s got a gift, this one.” Helen basked in the pride she heard in Jim’s voice.

  The older man didn’t seem to know what to say to that, but apparently, the news of hyenas in the neighborhood caught most of his attention. He scowled. “Hyenas, you say?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jim said, taking the attention off Helen, for which she was grateful. She needed a moment to recoup her energy. “Four of them, working as a team. I haven’t seen anything like it since my last mission to Africa.”

  “That’s not good,” Sal said,
his eyes narrowing. “This why you need the plane?”

  “Partially, sir.” Jim looked uncomfortable. “I walked into a trap here. The hyenas were waiting for me on the beach, while new intel puts my target in Texas. I need the plane to get back on track. I can promise she’ll be well taken care of while in Texas. I plan to put down at Big Wolf. I have Pack ties there.”

  Sal seemed to consider that then straightened and nodded once. “Well, that’s all right, then. I’ve known the Alpha there for a long time. We fly a semi-regular route between here and there during the season.”

  “Why don’t you two chat a moment while I help Helen get her things?” Leslie said brightly before Jim could reply.

  Helen knew it was a ruse. She didn’t have any luggage other than the giant bag she carried, but Sal didn’t know that. Helen thought she knew why Leslie wanted to get her alone and wasn’t overly concerned. She met Jim’s gaze and nodded slightly at his questioning look.

  “Don’t go too far,” Jim said, shooting a warning look at Leslie. “I want to go wheels up within the next half hour.”

  “Not a problem,” Leslie assured him as she ushered Helen out the door. Helen wasn’t surprised when Leslie started with her questions as soon as they were out of earshot of the office area. “What did you do?”

  Helen smiled gently as they walked. “You were right to be concerned,” she told the other woman. “He had a fairly nasty bug taking hold down deep in his lungs, as well as the beginnings of what might’ve turned malignant, but I zapped it all. He’ll be right as rain after a good night’s sleep. He’ll cough up some of that nasty, but don’t worry. It’s all harmless now. His body will get rid of it in less than twenty-four hours.”

  Leslie’s brisk walk slowed to a stop. Helen stopped as well, turning to look at the taller woman. She had an expression of stunned shock on her face and tears rolling down her cheeks. Helen reached out, putting one hand on Leslie’s forearm, offering comfort.

  “It’s okay,” Helen reassured the woman. “I meant what I said. He’s got really good genes. Barring anything strange happening, he should easily make it to a hundred, if not more, and in good shape, too. He’s got a remarkable constitution, and being around your magic can only help fortify that.”

 

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