Code Wolf: A Macconwood Pack Novel (The Macconwood Pack Series Book 3)

by C. D. Gorri

  “Randall, the helo just landed! Where the fuck are you, man?!” The voice at the end of the line was familiar though he sounded a tad exasperated. Tulla had no time for introductions.

  “This is Tulla Nirvelli, Randall just took off on four legs to find my boy. I’m following him on foot. Now, you tell me what the hell is going on and how he’s gonna get my Danny back!”

  “Oh shit! I’m sorry, ma’am. Look, did he, uh, you said four legs?”

  “Yes! I know what I saw and, apparently, the man I’ve been sleeping with is a Werewolf. I suspect you’re one too!”

  “Um, let’s not jump to any hasty conclusions here, Ms. Nirvelli, wait a sec, did you say you’ve been sleeping with Randall?” She could almost hear him smile through the phone.

  “Will you concentrate, please, my son is in danger! It’s going to take Randall at least thirty minutes to get to where Danny is, even running like that and it’s gonna take me a damn site longer! Now, talk.”

  “Look, just stay on the phone I’m sending your coordinates to my guys. They’ve got ATVs with them and they’ll pick you up. If you wait for them-”

  “No, I’m going to follow Randall. Danny will be afraid-”

  “Tulla, I promise you Randall will find him and he won’t harm a hair on that boy’s head.”

  “I know that! I’m not stupid, Randall would never hurt him! But that man who took him-” She tripped over a tree root and tore her knee open, but she hardly felt the pain. She picked herself up and half-jogged through the trees.

  “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “I’m fine. Randall said he was a Warlock, the man who took him. I just can’t think. I have to hang up. I can’t run and talk on the phone-”

  “No, no, look, they’re almost there, please, just another two minutes. Stay on the line with me.”

  “I’m sorry, he’s my son, I need to go.”

  “Wait!”

  Tulla clicked off the phone and shoved it in her pocket. Her knee ached, but she ignored it and picked up speed. She knew where she was headed, but her fear for her son increased with every passing second.

  Oh Danny! She tried to calm herself, but tears fell down her face nonetheless as she hurried along the wooded path as fast as she could. The sound of engines behind her made her turn and she stumbled again right onto a patch of rocks. She felt searing pain in her hands before a pair of strong arms helped her up.

  When she was on her feet again she was face to face with a man with short black hair and dark eyes. He looked Native American, but his eyes had that same glow Randall’s did earlier. Her fear subsided as she gave into her instincts. This was Randall’s friend and she’d trust him to help.

  “Tulla? I’m Tate Nighthawk. This is my team, are we headed in the right direction?”

  “Yes, it’s just that way. Another twenty minutes or so on foot. Randall’s probably not even there yet.”

  “He’s there. I can sense his rage and more, there is dark magic afoot. Let’s go, get on the back of my ATV and hold on to my waist. We’ll get there a lot faster than walking.”

  Tulla did as he said and held on. Her heart thudded in her chest, it was difficult to breathe. There were five men all together, each one huge and muscular. Are they all Werewolves? She knew the answer in her gut. It should have scared her, surrounded by monsters, but she was not afraid of them. Not of them, nor of Randall. How could she be when she loved him? Oh God, I love him.

  A lump formed in her throat. Yes, every fiber of her being was concentrating on her son, but there was another worry growing too. Would Randall be able to take on a Warlock?

  They just have to be safe, her frantic mind was moving a mile a minute. Danny, oh God, not my Danny! Randall will find him. The thought was clear in her mind and more surprising was that she believed it. She believed in him. He would find Daniel and he’d bring him home to her.

  CHAPTER 16

  Randall pushed himself harder than ever before. He ran like the wind, leaping ten feet at a time over bushes and rocks and fallen trees. Normally, he didn’t like to leave a footprint, but time was of the essence.

  Danny was in trouble. The boy had already become the son of his heart and mind. He’d die before he let a single hair on his blonde head be injured. And he’d kill the fucker who dared take what was his. He growled as he ran. Rage replaced concern. He needed to kill that son-of-a-bitch who took his boy.

  Warlocks were an evil bunch. True, Dib and Kurt knew more than he did, but Randall knew enough. They dealt in dark magic, pacts with Demons, blood sacrifices, that sort of thing. They broke the one vow that all Witches and beings who used magic made upon receiving their gifts, to do no harm. Randall made a vow to himself right then, the Oath-breaker would not survive meeting him. Hell fucking no!

  The sound of the surf crashing against the rocks below told him the tide was changing too fast. He crouched against a boulder, hoping to take in the scene instead of charging in there blind. He breathed in through his lupine nostrils and caught Danny’s scent.

  His increased senses were normally something he reveled in during his Change, but not now. His Wolf’s sole focus was on Danny, and the boy was afraid. Randall had to fight the Wolf to keep from charging down the side of the hill to breach the mouth of the cave. That could prove fatal for them both, so he bit back the urge and watched.

  He needed Danny safe, out of the clutches of those who would harm him, and he couldn’t be sure of that if he got himself killed in the process. He shook his head from side to side and refocused. From his vantage point he couldn’t see inside the cave, but he heard voices. Plural.

  Whoever took Danny wasn’t alone. Randall crouched lower on his front legs, silencing the deep growl that was coming from his throat. He inhaled again, the rotten stench of dark magic invaded his space. Someone was casting a spell.

  He looked and saw a figure come out of the cave. He was dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. A faded black baseball cap sat on a head of white streaked gray hair. The man’s skin was a blotchy, unhealthy shade of pink. Like a bad sunburn on a fair-skinned person.

  He looked like every other middle-aged tourist on the island. Except this man had a crazed look in his eyes as held his left hand up to the sky, like he was some kind of religious zealot or cultist. With his right hand, he took a wicked looking knife out from behind his back.

  The blade glinted in the sun. Sharp and hungry. The blade seemed to emanate feelings that Randall’s Wolf picked up on. With quicker movements than Randall thought possible, the man sliced the blade across his left palm. A look of pure ecstasy crossed his face as the sound of his blood hitting the sand reverberated in Randall’s ears.

  The man mumbled something that Randall could not quite make out, then he called out behind him. Another man, thin and disheveled, wearing dirty ripped jeans and an equally stained t-shirt came out of the mouth of the cave dragging something behind him.

  It was Danny! The boy’s arms were tied in front of him, his blue backpack dragging behind him in the sand. His face was tear stained, but he was pulling back against the ropes. Fighting his kidnappers with all the strength in his eight-year old body.

  “Shut up, kid! Come on, move it. And no more crying, I can’t take it!”

  Randall heard Danny’s whimper at the sound of the man’s frustrated voice and everything in him wanted to go down there and rip the guy’s throat out. Not yet, he forced himself to stay put. He couldn’t help, but feel a surge of pride in the little boy who struggled against his captors. Attaboy!

  Whoever he was, the guy that was yanking on the rope around Danny’s arms was not in charge. That much was clear. No, this man sounded scared and he looked worse. Definitely a lackey.

  “Tom, is that any way to talk to your son? Tie him to the post there and finish making the circle. Now, just a few more hours, Daniel, and this will all be over.”

  “I want my mommy!”

  “Yes, I know you do, and what did I promise you?”

&nbs
p; “You said if I went with you I’d see her again soon, but that was hours ago! And these ropes are hurting my arms.”

  “Yes, well, we can’t have you running away, now can we? It’s like I told you, when we tied you up, it is for your own protection.”

  “You’re a liar! I want my mommy!”

  “Hahaha! Do you know what I am doing? No? I am granting you your destiny, boy! Do you know who your father is?”

  “No! I want my mommy! My father is dead!” Daniel’s chin jutted out defiantly as he argued bravely with his kidnapper.

  “No, he is very much alive. See that man there, that filthy excuse for a man? That’s your father, boy. But don’t think bad of him, you see when he made you he was just a tool, a host if you will, for something much bigger than the small pathetic creature you see before you.”

  The man he pointed to, the man Randall guessed was Tom Nirvelli, squirmed under the stare of the man in the baseball cap. The stink of urine and body odor clung to him, but it was the smell of his fear, sour and pungent, that stood out to Randall. The man was a coward and a pawn. He’d get what he deserved.

  “No! My father is dead! You’re a liar!”

  “Liar is one of my names for sure, but you son, ah, you have the potential to be the king of the liars! How would you like that?”

  “No! I won’t! I won’t!” Daniel struggled with his ropes pulling them as far as he could, but the wooden stake that he was tied to was unrelenting. He fell in the sand as the Warlock hovered over him laughing at the spectacle. He reached down and yanked the boy up. He lifted Danny’s shirt revealing a star-shaped birthmark on the boy’s stomach.

  “Yes! You are the one! I am sure of it! Tom, grab his head!” The warlock leaned forward and smeared the still wet blood from the slice on his palm across Daniel’s forehead. That was enough.

  The rumble of engines was faint in the woods behind him. My back-up is here. But Randall wasn’t going to wait any longer. He crouched low and leapt down the twenty-five-foot drop landing on his paws with a small thud on the dry sand. He announced his presence with a loud snarl, snapping his jaws at the two men.

  “Oh, my God! What is that?” The man Randall guessed was the supposedly deceased Tom Nirvelli dropped to the ground cowering like a child when he got a glimpse of Randall in Wolf form.

  The Wolf fed on that fear. He growled, dripping saliva and baring his fangs as he advanced on the real threat. The Warlock turned and met him with wide, crazed eyes. He pushed Danny down into the sand and crouched to face Randall.

  “No! You’ll not take him from me! The Master is come! He is here, you are too late!”

  He lunged forward with a sick look on his face, the knife gripped tight in his right hand. Randall ducked away from the Warlock’s careless advances. The man was no fighter, but he was relentless and the angle he stood made it impossible for Randall to get to Danny.

  He had no choice, he stepped into swinging distance and took a hit. With one swipe of the blade the Warlock made contact and Randall made his move. He ignored the pain of the blade as it sliced his shoulder and bit down on the man’s wrist.

  “No! Ahhhhh!”

  His scream soothed part of the Wolf that demanded he pay for taking what was his. But still, Randall held firm. His Wolf bit down with all the power in his mighty jaws, through muscle and tendon, sinew and bone, until the man’s hand lay on the bloodied sand beneath him.

  “No, you can’t you will ruin everything! The Master! Get the boy, Tom!” He crumpled to the ground, cradling the ravaged stump that was all that was left of his hand to his body.

  Randall turned to see Tom pulling on Daniel’s ropes once again. The boy struggled and Tom drew back his hand and slapped him hard across the face. He tried to drag Danny away, but he wasn’t fast enough.

  Grrrr. Randall used all the muscles in his legs and leapt forward cutting off his retreat. Tom dropped the rope, but he must have hit Daniel too hard, the boy was lying in the sand. He’s not moving.

  The roaring growl that erupted from Randall’s jaws seemed to drown out the surf. He lunged forward, his jaws locked on Tom’s throat and he crushed the man’s windpipe beneath his teeth. A noise from behind him got his attention. He spit out the foul blood of the pitiful excuse for a man and turned to see Tulla jump off the back of an ATV a few feet ahead of him on the sand. She ran straight for her son.

  Randall’s heart swelled at the sight of her. She gathered Danny in her arms just his blue eyes opened and he hugged his mom. She was safe. Danny was alive. They were both safe. Mine.

  He lunged forward as Tate moved towards them. He had a gun in his hand as he assessed the scene. He nodded at Randall, and halted his steps. He averted his eyes in reverence to the more dominant Wolf. Randall took his due respect.

  He sniffed out Doug O’Neill and a few other Wolves cleaning the scene and binding the Warlock in what Randall guessed was some kind of magic blocking equipment. They proceeded to duct-tape the man’s mouth shut. Doug completely averted his gaze as he came forward.

  “I’m not looking to move in on what’s yours, man, but we’ll be taking this one back to headquarters and I’ll get a report to Rafe ASAP. ‘Kay?”

  Tate nodded and Doug backed off. That was when Randall realized that he was still crouched in front of Tulla and Daniel ready to attack any that went near them. His fangs were barred and he was still growling. Tate took a step back and nodded behind Randall.

  He felt her there, standing right at his back before he heard her approach. He turned not knowing what he would find and was surprised to see Tulla, Daniel cradled in her arms smiling through tears as she looked at him. Randall was overwhelmed with emotion. He whined and snapped his jaws.

  “Randall? It’s okay, man. They are okay,” Tate’s low voice did nothing to soothe him. His head moved back and forth. They were his in his heart, but he’d never asked her. He bonded with her sure, but she never agreed. Never said the words.

  He howled his frustration. He needed to go. Had to run off his anxiety. The blood in the air was making him agitated. They took the Warlock before he could finish him. Suddenly, he was consumed with the need to hunt something, anything to take his mind off of what could have happened.

  “I’ll take care of her, of them. For you, my brother. Go now, run.”

  Randall felt the power of Tate’s promise and it was the only thing that gave him focus. He barked and looked back once to the family that was not rightfully his, the one he would cherish above all others, then he took off down the beach running as fast and hard as his legs would carry him.

  CHAPTER 17

  Tulla tucked Daniel snug as a bug in his twin bed. The pale green and blue comforter was soft and fuzzy. It smelled faintly like fabric softener and even more like her boy. She kissed him on the head and moved to the doorway as his breathing became deep and even, but she couldn’t move any farther than that.

  Maternal instinct kept her glued to the spot. She’d almost lost him tonight. She couldn’t believe it. She hugged herself and exhaled silently. He’s so brave! Her little boy hadn’t fussed in the aftermath of the scene on the beach near the “secret cave”.

  He didn’t argue when she gave him a bath and put him in his pajamas, her own motherly way of discreetly checking every inch of her baby to make sure he was whole and well. She watched him intently after he was warm and dry as he ate a few bites of the chicken soup she heated up.

  He asked to go to bed right after and she laid down with him while he settled in, something she hadn’t done a whole lot of this year. Daniel had insisted he was too big to sleep with his mama. Tears rolled down her face as she watched him sleep. What was he dreaming of? She hoped to God it was something nice and not about what had happened to him that day.

  Kidnapped by a man who turned out to be his dead father! Told by a madman, a Warlock, that he was their king! And witnessing a Werewolf rip them both to shreds! And yet the only thing her son had asked about the whole incident was where had Randall gone?


  “What do you mean, baby?” She asked had him.

  “Well, Randall was a Wolf and he ran away, where did he go? Is he coming back?”

  “What do you mean, baby?” Tulla didn’t know what to tell her son about the fact that Randall was a Werewolf. Evidently, she didn’t have to explain anything.

  “He’s a Wolf, mama. My Wolf. I dreamed him, remember, only I thought he was a doggie. I knew he’d come for me.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I dreamed him for a long time. Is he coming back?”

  “I don’t know, baby.”

  She hated not being able to answer him. Two hours and still he hadn’t come back. The man, Tate, sat in her living room like living statue refusing her offer of food or drink. He was polite enough, but he looked preoccupied. As if he were waiting for something. She left him there and excused herself to go be with her son.

  Her poor baby! The red marked that had stained his little round cheek was almost completely gone by the time he closed his eyes. The time since Tate had brought them home after Randall had rescued him from the monsters that kidnapped him from school felt like eons.

  She had so many questions. So many things she wanted to tell him, but he took off after he had saved her boy. A Werewolf. A real, honest-to-God, Werewolf. Wolf-shield, that’s what Danny said.

  It was certainly a lot to wrap her mind around, but was it any more than the fact that her supposedly dead husband had turned up today and taken her son from school? That he was a player in some Warlock cult that believed her sweet boy was destined to be the ruler of those evil bastards!

  Her entire body shook with anger at the thought of Tom Nirvelli. That low-life skunk had stolen her boy! Lied to her for years about his death! Tricked her into marriage! Ugh. If he wasn’t dead, she’d kill him herself. Once again, she pushed all that anger aside as she gazed at her son. He was safe. Alive and well. Home with her. Because of Randall.

  She wanted to talk to the man, but where was he? Out running. That’s what Tate had said when she inquired after him. He tried to explain that it was not usual for a Werewolf to Change without the full moon and Randall’s emotions were no doubt all over the place because of said Change and the events that brought it on.