Checkmate

by Elyce de Reefe

  Cray looked to Zeke, who nodded. They would be watching that back door. And if they were of the shoot first variety—

  Cray nodded to Zeke as he stepped behind a dumpster. Zeke lobbed a small rock at the door and ducked behind a parked car. They waited. It didn’t take long. Two men appeared in the doorway, guns drawn. Unfortunately, they didn’t come rushing out to check on the noise. Cray made a face. No. That would be too easy.

  He picked up a pebble and tossed it gently, letting it hit the ground and roll just past his position. That did it. One of them crept cautiously out into the shadowy parking lot behind the strip mall. But the other remained in the doorway, possibly to cover him. Well, that won’t work.

  Cray grabbed a good-sized stick and lobbed it to the far side of the dumpster, hoping to draw the man past his position and out of the other man’s line of sight.

  It seemed to be working. He could hear him creeping closer. Closer. Cray couldn’t see the man, but he imagined him leading with his gun. He only hoped the surprise of finding Cray right there when he rounded the corner would be enough to keep him from getting shot.

  There was a tense moment when the man paused just on the other side of the dumpster. Cray stood motionless, trying not to breathe too loudly. Then he snapped around the corner—gun first.

  The shock of finding Cray not even a foot away was the only thing that saved him. It gave him the split second he needed to knock the business end of the gun away from his vitals. Simultaneously, he punched the guy in the face with the other hand. Cray packed every ounce of his body weight behind the punch, and the man dropped like a stone.

  One down, Cray thought, shaking out his throbbing hand.

  “What was that?” The hissed question came from the other man, still standing behind cover in the doorway.

  Cray didn’t move. Neither did Zeke.

  “Rick?” The call was soft. Cautious.

  Cray hoped the guy was more loyal than smart, because if he went back inside and locked the door, they were screwed. It took another minute and another hissed, “Rick?” but eventually the man inched his way out of the door and down to the dumpster. He was reasonably quiet, too. Just before he reached the end of the dumpster, Cray made a scraping sound with his foot. The man sprang forward, and Zeke took him from behind.

  After that, it was only a matter of tying and gagging them in some very fine, four-hundred thread count cotton sheets. They had to work from behind, so the men didn’t get a look at their faces, but the pillowcases came in handy for that. Once their hands were tied behind their backs, Cray slipped the cases over their heads, blocking their vision, and knotting the bottom to secure them loosely around their necks.

  He had to shake his head as he and Zeke dragged them to the far side of the parking lot a safe distance from the fire. The two men were quite a sight. The look was somewhere between a terrorist’s hostage and a Halloween costume gone wrong.

  He had just about finished spraying down the walls with Lyla’s solution while Zeke placed the incendiary devices when the perimeter alarm went off on Cray’s phone.

  His heart nearly stopped. Please dear Maiden, let it be a false alarm.

  He pulled out his phone and felt his blood run cold. Three black SUVs were clustered at the front gate. Fuck!

  He did the only thing he could. He keyed in Detective Anderson’s number and prayed.

  “Cray. What’s up?” For almost three in the morning, Anderson sounded awake and alert.

  “That motherfucker is headed down my driveway right now with three SUVs. I’m about four hours away. She’s alone. You get your worthless ass down there now. If my wife isn’t in one piece when I get back, I’m holding you responsible—”

  “On my way. Just give me the address.”

  Cray sucked in a breath and rattled off the address. “Thanks,” he managed to grit out before clicking off. Cray tried to tell himself that Anderson would get there in time, but it wasn’t really working. He could feel Elizabeth’s anxiety growing. She needed help now. He pulled out his phone and pressed her number.

  “Zeke, light it up. We have to move.”

  ** *

  Elizabeth stirred on the couch, glancing blearily around the great room. What was that noise? The fire had burned down to embers in the hearth, and Lyla’s still form lay stretched out on the other couch. Elizabeth was about to get up and check on her, but the noise came again.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  It sounded like a truck backing up, but it was coming from her cell phone. She picked it up— and felt her heart lurch in her chest.

  Intruder Alert flashed across the screen in red. How did they even get it to do that? And couldn’t these werewolves think of a more alarming tone for the alarm?

  Pull yourself together, Elizabeth! This is no time for crazy, inane thoughts. She clicked on the app the way Aaron had shown her and Front Gate flashed across the screen along with several pictures. Oh, shit!

  She clicked on the top picture and confirmed that, yes, that was indeed three—count ‘em, three—black SUVs headed down the driveway straight towards her.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Please don’t let that be Greg! Or his goons.

  She glanced back over at Lyla, who looked peacefully asleep on the couch, and grimaced. Why had they left her in charge? Putting the defensive ring around the house had really taken it out of Lyla. She had chanted a spell at each of the jars she’d buried in a ring outside the house. At first everything seemed fine, but by the fifth one she’d grown noticeably wobbly. By the time she finished with number eight, she was swaying on her feet and had to lean on Elizabeth just to get back inside.

  Then she’d insisted on ‘sealing’ the house, as she called it, chanting and singing over a tiny fire she’d lit in a bowl, of all things, and finishing by hanging dried flowers over the doorframes. Elizabeth had offered to help, naturally, but since Elizabeth wasn’t a witch—

  Yeah. No help there.

  By the time Lyla hung the last bundle of dried herbs over the front door, Elizabeth had barely managed to get her over to the couch before she collapsed. She still wasn’t sure she’d made the right choice not calling the guys, but really, what could they do? It wasn’t like they could come back. Lyla had collapsed like this once before. And she’d suffered no ill effects then, right?

  Damn it. Why did they leave me in charge?

  She heard cars screeching to a stop in the back yard and rushed over to the kitchen window. Should she wake up Mari? She was asleep in her room, because—Elizabeth glanced down at her phone—good Lord, it was three in the morning!

  The hour of the wolf, she thought with a shiver. But wait. Wasn’t she a wolf now, too? Honorary wolf?

  Her phone rang in her hand and she almost dropped it. She glanced down at the display. Cray. Shit. Just what she did not need. She couldn’t feel anything from the bond, so he had to be blocking her, but she had no doubt he was freaking out, and she was freaking out enough for both of them.

  She glanced back out the window. The SUVs had pulled to a stop in the paved area by the garages. Dark figures were exiting the cars but had not approached the house yet. She clicked the connect button. “Hi, honey.”

  “Elizabeth! What’s going on? I called Detective Anderson. He’s on his way.”

  “Okay. That’s good. We seem to have company. But no one has approached the house, so…” She trailed off as one individual, one very large individual, separated from the rest of the group. He seemed to stop just outside the line of jars Lyla had buried around the house.

  “Lucas!”

  The word rang out like a clap of thunder. Elizabeth felt all the tiny hairs along her arms and the back of her neck spring to attention. Alpha power. Yikes!

  He took another step forward and stopped suddenly, putting his hand out like he was feeling for something. Patting something invisible in the air.

  O-kay. Okay, good. That means the spell is holding. Right?

  She sucked in a silent breath and tried for
breezy. You can do this, girl.

  “Okay, false alarm. It’s just Marten. And he’s mated, and I’m mated, so no problems. Plus the spell is holding so, um… everything’s fine. How are things going with you?”

  “We just finished setting the charges. Zeke’s about to light the fire.”

  “Okay, you get right on that, honey. I’ll take care of this. Call you back in a few.”

  “Elizabeth, don’t hang up. That man is dangerous.”

  “Cray,” she said, going for calm, but she wasn’t sure it was working. “You do your job, and I’ll do mine. The timing is important, right?”

  “No. Stay on the phone with me. You don’t know what he’s up to.”

  “Cray, I can’t talk to you and deal with this at the same time. What good is being on the phone anyway? It’s not like he’s going to go away because I’m on the phone, right?”

  Cray didn’t say anything, but she could feel his frustration seething down the bond.

  “I’ll call you right back.” Still nothing.

  She sucked in a quick breath. “Okay, love you, honey. Gotta go.” She bit her lip and reached for the disconnect button.

  “Elizabe—”

  She pressed down. There was only so much she could concentrate on at one time. And the spell was holding so—

  “LUCAS!”

  This time, the house seemed to reverberate with the word. Mari appeared in the hallway.

  “Elizabeth, what’s going on?”

  Elizabeth motioned her to stay put as she strode past, but didn’t take the time to do anything more. Dominant female. Dominant female. You got this, girl. She rolled her eyes as she marched through the mudroom to the back door. I’m going to kill you, Aster!

  “Marten! Is that you? What do you think you’re doing? It’s three in the morning. Huffing and puffing and blowing houses down went out of style a long time ago.”

  She had to call it through the closed door, because there was no way she was opening it. She hoped she sounded a lot more confident than she felt.

  There was a short pause, and she imagined Marten trying to figure out what to say to that. She allowed herself a small smirk.

  “Who is that?”

  “It’s the lady of the house. We haven’t been properly introduced. Don’t you know a gentleman isn’t supposed to turn up at a lady’s house without a proper introduction? At three in the morning? Don’t you have Laws against that?”

  Okay, she had no idea about that, but they had Laws about all kinds of things, so she just threw that in.

  “You are Lucas’s mate?” He seemed to be sniffing the air.

  Good luck, buddy. Lyla has this house coated in so many herbs—

  He sneezed and Elizabeth grinned. This was kind of fun. She felt a little like a character in an old Western, a standoff behind closed doors. All she needed was a shotgun. Or maybe a rifle? No, a six shooter and silver bullets. Okay, you are definitely mixing your metaphors here. Or would that be memes? Themes?

  Pull yourself together, girl. “Never mind whose mate I am. What are you doing here, Marten?” And suddenly the possibilities—what was he doing here?—snapped her back to reality.

  “I came to talk to Lucas.”

  “Lucas isn’t available just now. You’ll have to leave a message.”

  “The message is about him stealing my pack members,” Marten growled. “And the Sickness. New packs rarely avoid the Sickness—”

  He broke off as a commotion back by the vehicles caught his attention. Elizabeth watched with rapt attention as a new figure emerged from the cluster of people and separated from the group. What in the world?

  Chapter 29

  Unlike popular Chess Puzzles, which revolve around the more tactical issues of the middle game, Studies relate to the Endgame. They are composed to examine an interesting position. Also, unlike Chess Problems, which have a set number of steps laid out to reach the goal, for a Study, there can be more than one solution.

  — From the Journals of Aster Ardennes

  Out of the corner of her eye, Millie glanced at the man sitting next to her in Marten’s SUV. Actually, the man was a werewolf, although Marten didn’t like that term. He preferred People of the Moon. And Millie couldn’t blame him, werewolf having so many negative connotations and all.

  Millie Griffin, stop stalling. Whatever is going on here, this is not right. You do not drive up to people’s houses in the middle of the night and start a shouting match. What was next? Would they start throwing bear cans? Face it, Millie, you’re mated to a redneck. What do you intend to do about it?

  Just then, the roiling anger and resentment coming off Marten was pierced by a small ribbon of confusion. Of doubt. Okay, that’s your cue, girl. Time to go rescue your man. She made a face. From himself.

  She slipped open the car door, her stomach clenching at the thought of the upcoming confrontation. But she would not spend the rest of her life with a redneck bully. Marten was better than this. She’d seen it. She’d felt it. And this had to stop.

  The man, Adam, reached out and grasped her arm just before she made it out of the SUV. She froze. Smooth, Millie. Way to make a clean getaway. And there were six more men milling around just outside the car. In her defense, it was a big step down, and the last thing she needed right now was to trip and fall on her face.

  “Marten wanted you to stay in the car,” Adam said, but his voice was deferential. Hmmm.

  Millie took in a huge breath and let it out slowly, counting backwards from five, a technique she’d learned to combat panic attacks. And then she turned to Adam and spoke, her voice an icy calm.

  “Marten is about to get a piece of my mind. And you will too, if you don’t let go of me. Right. Now.”

  Amazingly, the man released her and leaned back. Millie scrambled out of the car while she had the chance, wondering where the hell that had come from. But she was getting angrier by the second and used it to power her forward. She hardly noticed the group of men melting before her as she marched toward Marten, fists clenched.

  We’ll just see about all this bullshit. This is not going to be my life.

  “Marten, honey,” she said as she reached him, “do you mind telling just what the hell you think you’re doing? I thought you said you had business?” Her voice had taken on a no-nonsense tone she’d never heard before.

  “Millie, what— I asked you to wait in the car. This is not— it’s not safe out here.”

  “Not safe?” She gave him a look. “You’re yelling at a closed door.”

  “Yes but, um…” He rubbed his face. “This is pack business, Millie. It’s important. You need to go back to the car and let me handle this.”

  “You know? I really don’t think so. I’m just finding it hard to understand how this could be important. Don’t we have more important business back in Canada? Like, taking care of the pack, say?”

  “But that’s just it. These People are from my pack. Some of them, anyway. And they need to come back. It’s not safe for them here.”

  “It’s not safe.” She gave him another look, because, really?

  “That’s right. They need to know.”

  “So you’re here to tell them, is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  Marten huffed out an exasperated breath and rubbed his face again.

  “You know, there’s this thing called the telephone. I’ve heard it works really well when you want to tell someone something.”

  Marten looked away. “I have to confront their Alpha in person, Millie. He can’t go around stealing my pack members!”

  Ahhh, now we’re getting to it. She felt his blast of frustration, but there was something else there too. He was jealous and resentful. And like a child, he had no idea how to handle it.

  “Are you telling me that your pack members aren’t free to leave if they want to?”

  “Our pack members. And no. Of course not. But they need to under
stand the dangers!”

  “Fine, so tell them, and let’s go. You have to let them choose, Marten. It’s a free country.”

  He gave her an annoyed look. “You’re forgetting, Millie. I’m Canadian.”

  Millie put her hands on her hips, feeling a little frustrated herself. “Well, you’re in America now. Are you trying to tell me Canada is not a free country?”

  “We’re freer than you. We just don’t go around proclaiming it all the time!”

  Millie felt her lips twitch. Then they started to quiver. She tried biting down on one, but it didn’t really help. He was just so ridiculous, like a toddler having a tantrum. And adorable too, because she could feel that he truly was concerned for his people. Clueless— but concerned.

  “Millie,” he said gruffly.

  “Marten,” she said, matching his tone. And that did it. Her laughter just bubbled out. She couldn’t help it.

  A reluctant smile touched his lips. Good. She drew in a deep breath and pulled herself together. What did they call this— a teachable moment?

  “Marten, honey, I know you’re worried about your people. And you came all the way here because you thought it was important. So say whatever it is you have to say, and let’s go home. I’m sure there are lots of things that need to be done for our own pack. Right?”

  Marten looked uncomfortable. He scuffed his foot against the ground like a little kid. “Well, um… he’s not actually here.”

  She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

  “So, um… I guess I’ll leave a message.”

  “Good idea.”

  He turned and called out to the door, his deep voice booming in an oddly powerful way. “Tell Lucas I want to speak to him about the Sickness. This isn’t over.” His tone was harsh and demanding. He paused and cast a swift glance her way, then continued in that same booming voice. “And see that my Apprentice Lore Master calls me.”