Silver Bullet

by RJ Blain

  I flopped onto my seat, whined, and stretched my paw out to rest it on Elliot’s leg.

  “Fenerec shouldn’t be able to do such a good imitation of sad dog eyes. That’s just wrong, Vicky. Stop it. I’m not taking the collar off. If you’re lucky, I might forget I brought the leashes with me.”

  When pawing his leg didn’t earn me freedom from the collar, I wormed my way to the edge of the seat, stretching between the gap to slid both my forelegs across his lap. I rested my chin on his thigh and stared up at him.

  “You can crawl on my lap all you want, but I’m not taking the collar off. Richard’s wearing his just fine. You even let me put it on you. I’ve been over this how many times? The only way I’m letting either one of you near an operation site is if you’re being tracked, and since no one will let me microchip you for some stupid reason I don’t understand, you’re stuck with collars. You’re stuck with those specific collars, which are attuned to me. The only way they’re coming off is if I take them off.” Elliot hesitated. “Or you kill me. Please don’t resort to murdering me to get the collar off.”

  I whipped my head around to look between the seats and showed Richard my fangs.

  “Richard isn’t going to murder me, Vicky. He likes me. You’re supposed to like me, too, so you can’t kill me. Look, I’m wearing a damned tracker, too, and the fucking thing’s attuned to my fucking father. Do you know what my father will do if I get in trouble on this op, Vicky? He’ll do what he did to Dante, which involves visiting me every single day for two months. In turn, that’ll force me to call Richard begging for help. You know the collars are necessary. It’s so necessary they put one on me, too!”

  Elliot beat the steering wheel of his truck, and I flicked an ear back at his show of temper. Instead of a collar, he had a bracelet, and he hadn’t been happy when his father had barged into our room and forced it on him.

  A phone rang, and Elliot jabbed one of the buttons on his steering wheel. “Anderson.”

  My wolf loved the way Elliot growled his name.

  “Those wolves are rubbing off on you, son,” a man’s voice replied. “What’s your ETA?”

  “Thirty minutes.”

  “Any problems?”

  “I have a lap wolf and a whiner in the back. Everything’s fine. Any updates?”

  “We got a warrant to pull Dupree’s phone records. We should have the data within the next ten minutes. Your mother’s going to go through them. We’ve also pinpointed ten burner phone numbers, so we’re pulling the records for them, too. Our mark got sloppy covering his tracks. Hopefully, the burners will give us something good. No information on his current whereabouts; it’s likely he’s using a falsified identification we haven’t cracked yet. It’s not one of Dante’s. Zachary gave me a complete list of Dupree’s identifications through them, so we’re going through and grabbing all activity from them. FBI promised me two hours to get info on all the IDs.”

  “How about North Fork?”

  “It’s not looking good; no activity from any of them for at least three days, and the last known contacts were to their winter lodge in the mountains.”

  Elliot spat curses, balling one hand into a fist while driving with the other. “Has the other team arrived yet?”

  “They’re waiting for you and your wolves. They don’t know where exactly on the mountain the pack goes, and the road ended. Do you know where to go?”

  “I do. I’ve been there.”

  “Be careful, son. I don’t need any more bad calls this month. You go find out what happened to Vicky’s puppies. Your mother and I are going to see if any of these records lead us to your brother. You let that Murphy boy watch your back, you hear me?”

  “Understood.” Elliot hung up. “Hold on, you two. It’s time I showed you what the Beast is capable of.”

  Chapter Ten

  The instant Elliot parked the truck and opened the door, I lunged for freedom. I plummeted to the ground, landed in the snow with a yelp, and rolled before thumping to a halt against the tires of a parked truck.

  Unlike Elliot’s, it was a normal pickup, and I’d never been so grateful to see a sane vehicle in my life. Determined never to ride in the monstrosity Elliot called the Beast ever again, I got to my paws, jumped into the open bed, and hid.

  “My driving isn’t that bad!”

  Richard waited for Elliot to climb down before hopping out of the truck. He landed with far more grace than I had, although I heard a thump and his breath rushed out of him. With a questioning warble, Richard braced his paws against my truck and peered into the bed.

  I huffed, flattened my ears, and refused to look at him.

  Why couldn’t I have picked a sane man? It should’ve taken us thirty minutes to reach the end of the road leading to North Fork pack’s winter lodge. Somehow, defying the laws of physics and the state of West Virginia, he had made it in less than fifteen.

  “Your Eminence?” a woman asked.

  Snarling at the presence of a female, I surged to my paws, jumped on top of the truck’s cab, and searched for my rival. I spotted her approaching the Beast, and I bared my fangs, tense and ready to drive her away from Elliot if necessary.

  “That would be me. The silver Fenerec is Richard Murphy, Alpha of Yellowknife. The cranky female using the truck as her throne is Vicky. What do we have?”

  “I’m Deidre Smith. We’ve found nothing so far. The snowstorm has erased whatever trails there might’ve been. There’s at least a foot and a half on the ground, and from the looks of it, it’s not going to let up anytime soon. It’s going to make this operation miserable at best. We were told you have a snowmobile and some gear?”

  “Two snowmobiles, snowsuits for ten, and one dogsled, assuming we can convince Richard to wear a harness for us.”

  Richard flattened his ears, but he sighed and bobbed his head.

  “Good sport, Richard. Vicky, stop growling at the nice witch and come say hello.”

  “Sir, perhaps you should wear weather appropriate attire for this operation.”

  Elliot regarded his suit with a frown. “I’m sure I’ll fit into something in the truck.”

  Sliding down the windshield, I jumped from the hood and landed on the ground beside Elliot. Sitting on his feet reassured me and my wolf he wouldn’t go anywhere.

  “She’s the bitch with the missing puppies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ah, I understand. Let’s get the snowmobiles and dogsled unloaded so we can make tracks, sir. She knows this area? We were informed someone from your group would know the region.”

  “She knows it better than I do, but I’ve been here before.”

  “Excellent. Get geared up, sir. I’ll gather the others.”

  Elliot leaned over, wrapped his arms around my neck and buried his face in my fur. “All right, my beautiful wolf. Off my feet. Let’s see if we can find the pack. If something’s happened to them, I hope we aren’t too late.”

  My fears stirred, and uttering a single whine, I shifted off his feet. When Elliot headed to the back of the Beast, I followed at his heels, watching for anyone who might come too close to him.

  Several men came around the truck, startling a snarl out of me. Elliot rested his hand on top of my head. “There are two snowmobiles; it’s all we had available. I have no idea where they found a dogsled, but Richard should fit the harness—that’s what I’ve been told, anyway. I’ve learned not to ask where they find things that fit you Fenerec.”

  One of the men chuckled. “Haven’t you been warned not to put your hand near a growling bitch’s mouth, sir?”

  “She’s my mate. If she bites me, I probably earned it.”

  I flicked an ear back at the pride in Elliot’s voice. Pleasure at how happy he sounded about it waged a short but fierce battle with my guilt. My wolf’s contentment with his declaration won, and I bumped my head against his hand.

  I liked when he stroked my fur.

  “You’re one brave son of a bitch, Your Eminence. Wh
y don’t you let us haul those down? It’ll be faster, and we don’t need the ramp. Are you armed?”

  Elliot moved out of the way, and I kept close to his side, leaning against his leg. “My weapons are in there somewhere. Standard-issue Beretta loaded with silver and the Glock.”

  “You carry a Glock, sir?”

  “It’s fully automatic and a really nice gun. When I point it at things I don’t like, they stop moving.” Elliot smiled, and it was one of the most frightening expressions I’d ever seen him make. “Mr. Dupree stole my bitch’s puppies, gentlemen. He’s at the top of my list of people to shoot, but I’m willing to make some additions.”

  While Elliot donned a snowsuit and boots, checked over his gear, and listened to Deidre detail the operation, I stood guard. The only one I allowed near him was Richard, and my Alpha had an even lower tolerance for who could come close than I did.

  “We’re ready to go, sir,” Deidre announced. “I’ll take the racing sled to keep up with your mate. The whole team will slow her down. You’ll be with the second snowmobile, the pack, and Mr. Murphy. The witches will bring up the rear and flanks, tracking your bracelet and her collar.”

  I flattened my ears at the thought of leaving Elliot with other Fenerec. None of them were females, which reassured my wolf, but I didn’t like the idea of leaving him with only Richard as trusted protection.

  My anxiety surged, and I whined. The need to find my puppies writhed under my skin, but the fear of something happening to Elliot while I was separated from him froze me in place.

  Richard, already buckled into his harness although not yet hitched to the sled, slid beside me, and rubbed his massive head against mine. When we touched, his soothing presence washed over me.

  “Let’s go. Don’t take any chances, Vicky. You see someone who isn’t us or doesn’t belong here, disable them.” Elliot narrowed his eyes and stared at me.

  I got the feeling he meant for me to leave corpses in my wake, and my wolf approved. I bared my fangs and swiped my tongue over them to indicate my willingness to eliminate anyone who got between me and my puppies—and to promise I’d return to him and resume my guard.

  I detoured long enough to rub against Elliot’s legs before loping for the woods, waiting to make sure Deidre followed. The snow obscured the trail, and the scents I expected from North Fork were diluted by the presence of so many new Fenerec I couldn’t detect the pack living on the mountain.

  The cinnamon scent of Fenerec should have hung thick in the forest near the end of the road, the main route to civilization and the pack’s winter lodge. While Elliot had made certain my puppies’ pack was sanctioned, old habits and fears remained.

  They had trusted me because my puppies trusted me, and because I had trusted Markus, they had trusted him, too. If Markus had turned coat, the pack would’ve been taken by surprise.

  None of them knew how to fight. They barely knew how to hunt and survive. They had a young dominant still growing into his role as Alpha, and while my puppies were as submissive as they came, they couldn’t keep a pack contained.

  I had, for a time, believed both of my puppies to be Omegas, but then I had met a real one, a friend of Richard’s.

  Meeting a true Omega had erased all doubt from my mind. While my puppies were submissive, a treasure of any pack, they’d never be Omegas.

  I missed them, as did my wolf.

  Whenever I was with my puppies, they kept the wildness at bay like my Samantha had. Without them, the full moons had grown harder to resist.

  How many times had the moon held me in its sway and drove me to Elliot in the months I couldn’t remember? I shoved the thought aside and focused on what mattered most: finding my puppies.

  I pushed myself as fast as I could through the snow, slowing only to allow Deidre on her snowmobile to keep up with me.

  I smelled smoke, old blood, and silver long before I finished climbing North Fork’s rocky slopes, circling around the outcroppings of bared stone where the trees clung to tenacious life. My wolf’s fear spurred me into a full run, leaving the witch and her snowmobile to follow my tracks.

  It didn’t take long for me to reach what little remained of the lodge. The charred, skeleton of the foundation and walls were caked in snow and ice. The wind howling over North Fork’s bare, stone face swept the snow from still, cold bodies.

  They hadn’t even had a chance to become wolves.

  Since I had first discovered the pack, they’d grown to twenty-five in number, all victims of a rogue Fenerec’s need for an Alpha. Some of them hadn’t gone out without a fight, but no wolf so young could survive a silver bullet, and their killers had used a lot of them.

  I bumped my nose against their still bodies, and their blood burned me. Of the pack, Mike had been the first I’d met. He’d been attacked and transformed into a Fenerec late in life, and the years had melted away from him month by month. When we had first met, he’d been old and burdened by his years.

  In his death, he’d been in his prime, and had been the type of man a woman—even me—looked twice at. Of them all, I had respected him the most. Like so many in the pack, he’d been submissive, calling out my dominant instincts to protect and nurture them. Unlike the others, however, he defied the nature of his wolf, pushed beyond his limits, and had taken the role of Second.

  I had, time and time again, trusted Mike with my puppies.

  I rubbed my muzzle against his cheek in the futile hope his iced skin would warm and he’d escape death’s cold grip. A whine burst out of me, and I pawed at his still chest.

  In life, Mike had been as peaceful as Fenerec came, but in death, he had fought, and the evidence of his last stand remained clutched in his frozen hand. The gun wasn’t his, nor did it belong to anyone in the pack.

  Pressing my nose to the weapon, I breathed in deep. Silver remained in the weapon, and the stench of gunpowder marked where it had been fired at least once. It took me and my wolf working together to filter out the scents of silver, blood, and Fenerec.

  The faint scent markers of a Normal lingered. If I ever found him, I’d recognize him.

  My wolf and I would enjoy the taste of his blood when we killed him.

  I checked the bodies again, digging through the drifts of snow, but I found no sign of my puppies. A low, desperate moan worked its way out of my throat, and I tore at the frozen piles of charred wood and ash.

  The lodge had been empty when it had burned, and when I clawed my way to the few sections untouched by the flames, my puppies’ scents taunted me, fresh enough to confirm they had been within the building before it had been set aflame.

  I could smell also the lingering traces of my puppies on the bodies of the pack, especially on Mike.

  Had they been taken? Had they run away when the pack had been slaughtered? Were they dead, too, their small bodies hidden buried beneath the blowing snow? I whimpered, turned in a full circle, and flattened my ears.

  The North Fork pack was dead, and my puppies were gone.

  I had to find them, but the mountain was full of places they could hide. The fear of being too late choked me. I left the bodies of my friends behind and ran in search of my puppies.

  My puppies weren’t near the lodge. In the distance, I heard the rumble of a snowmobile, and the sound agitated a snarl out of me.

  Humans would interfere with my hunt. It had been a human, a spirit-thieving human masquerading as a wolf, who had stolen my puppies from me. He had led murderers to my puppies’ pack. Because I had trusted him, they were all gone.

  No one else had known how to get to the lodge, not even Elliot. The times I’d taken him, I’d toyed with him, led him on a wild chase, disoriented him, and made certain he couldn’t return without help. He knew how to get to the pack’s gathering place, but not to the secluded peaks and their cabin.

  A howl built in my throat, but I choked it back. It emerged as another low moan.

  If my puppies had escaped, where would they have hidden? The nearest hiding pl
aces and dens were empty, nor could I detect their scents on the wind. While the lodge was high up the mountain, the tallest peak of bared stone offered many places for small wolves to hide.

  Would they have gone up the trails, hoping the dangerous rock faces would offer them shelter? I had banned them from venturing higher than the lodge.

  If they had taken shelter there and survived, I would forgive them anything.

  I changed directions and ran for where the trees made way for the rocky upper peaks of North Fork. The snow obscured the trails, and I slipped and slid across the broken, icy paths.

  If I tumbled over the side, I wouldn’t be able to find my puppies. I’d survive—probably. I eased away from the edge, flattened my ears, and sniffed for any sign of my puppies.

  Instead of the sweet cinnamon, my nose detected a harsher smell partnered with the metallic bite of silver. I bared my fangs, every muscle in my body tensing at the stench of a human.

  Standing still, I breathed in, concentrated on the way the wind gusted over the mountain peaks, and pinpointed the direction of my prey. I delayed long enough to roll in the snow and cake as much of it as possible over my fur to dull my coloring.

  When I found the human male, I’d take him by surprise, and I’d leave the evidence of my wrath all over the mountain for others to find. I’d teach them the meaning of fear.

  I tracked him to Chimney Top, a part of the mountain the pack avoided; hikers and thrill seekers loved the place, although the obscure trails made it difficult to find. The snow made it treacherous, and the wind screamed over the stones.

  He hunted through the rocks, a gun in one hand. It wasn’t a weapon I recognized; it was too bulky while still compact. Like the Inquisitors I had accompanied, he wore a snowsuit, which obscured his features. Hints of his frustration mingled with his sweat.