by Tasha Black
Will and Justin were actually swinging and giggling like little kids. The old swings squeaked in a very annoying way with every movement. The coffee shop kid was sitting on a bench tapping away on his cell phone, like he was their au pair or something.
Clive had thought that the town toddler park would be a central place to meet. Since it was closed down to exterminate hornets, nobody would get in their way.
Of course family after family had tried to come in. These damned stay-at-home losers clearly couldn’t find the time to read the local paper or they would know better.
Every time someone came to the gate he would be excited. Only to realize they had a stupid toddler with them.
“Park’s closed,” he said to the most recent arrival.
The guy had a baby in one of those chest carriers. He looked like a total moron.
“Oh, Dylan and I are here for the meeting,” the guy said with a big goofy smile.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
“Alright, come on in.”
“I’m David Drury.”
Shit, of course he was. Clive remembered the guy from high school. He was a total drip.
Clive couldn’t understand why nobody was here. He was the sheriff, for fuck’s sake. He was the best looking guy in town – there should at least have been women here.
And the guys still respected him from high school football. He’d given up a scholarship and a chance at the pros to come back to this town.
They must be afraid.
As soon as Clive came forward tonight, though, the others would have to stand behind him. They wouldn’t really allow Ainsley Connor to lead them. Not when they had Clive Warren willing to serve.
It was 2:15pm. Time to get started.
Clive turned to address his supporters.
“Okay, people, let’s huddle.”
The coffee kid put away his phone and stood. Justin and Will flung themselves off the swings. David Drury ambled over – he had been looking at the “Lost Cat” posters that lined the back of the fence. When David got close enough the baby locked his gaze with Clive’s. He made a raspberry sound with his tiny lips. Christ. Even the baby was a drip.
“He likes you!” David said.
Clive figured the best thing he could do was ignore him.
“We’re here because we agree that Ainsley Connor is not the right choice for the leader of this pack. Right?”
They all nodded.
Clive had envisioned a huge crowd with a bunch of big guys yelling and fist pumping at that.
“We’re going to strike tonight – we don’t want to give her much time to think. I’ll challenge her. She won’t have a chance.”
They stared at him. Coffee shop kid nodded.
Fuck this. He was really going to freak them out.
“And just in case, I have…this.”
He pulled a velvet jewelry box out of his pocket. He opened it carefully so as not to touch the contents.
“I thought she already turned you down, man,” David said sympathetically.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you seriously think that if she beats me in a fight I’m going to propose to her?”
Clive held out the box. In it, a smooth silver shape gleamed.
They all gazed into the box. Will broke the silence.
“Just one?”
“They don’t exactly sell these at WalMart!” Clive snapped. “Besides, one is all it’ll take.”
Clive reached for his weapon. He was carrying his father’s old Smith & Wesson service revolver today, on account of the special occasion. He slid the gun out of its well-oiled holster and deftly shot a bullet though the heads of all six lost cats on the posters.
There was utter silence as he emptied the shells and carefully loaded the silver bullet.
When he looked up there was a lady with a twin stroller staring at him from the other side of the gates. There was an expression of terror on her face.
“The park is closed for extermination today. Can’t you read?”
The lady scurried away.
“Let’s get out of here,” Clive said. “Meet me at the inn construction site at 9. Tell everyone.”
He didn’t wait to see how they would respond. He took off and jumped the gate instead of trying to figure out the child locks.
A few more hours and he’d be alpha. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with drips and adult-sized children anymore.
Chapter 7
Just before dusk, Ainsley was roused by the approach of a wolf.
For a moment she was disoriented. Then she realized she was lying in Erik’s arms. Cressida snoozed on the floor at their feet. They had continued her training after lunch and must have fallen asleep while they were discussing strategy after dinner.
She sat up and grabbed Erik’s hand. His eyes opened instantly and he reached for Cressida’ blonde head.
There was a gentle knock at the door.
Erik pressed Ainsley’s shoulder down as he got up, indicating that he wanted her to stay back.
Cressida slid onto the sofa next to her, leaning back against Ainsley’s chest as if to shield her.
“Yeah?”
“I’m here on behalf of Sheriff Clive Warren and the pack of Tarker’s Hollow. Sheriff Warren wishes to challenge Ainsley Connor for control of the Tarker’s Hollow pack tonight at 9:00, at the building site for the Tarker’s Hollow Inn.”
The young man looked familiar. It was Justin – one of the college kids who had moved her furniture. Ainsley was stunned.
“Ainsley Connor, alpha and heir of the Tarker’s Hollow pack, will answer Clive Warren’s challenge tonight at 9:00, at the building site for the Tarker’s Hollow Inn,” Erik replied evenly.
The two men nodded at each other. Then Justin disappeared into the night.
“At least he didn’t keep us waiting,” Erik said.
Ainsley couldn’t answer. She had never had so much as a schoolyard tussle. Was she really going to fight the biggest wolf in Tarker’s Hollow to the death at a construction site in the middle of the night?
Cressida turned to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“You’re at a crossroads, Ainsley Connor, and the decision you make right now decides if you live or die.”
“I’m going to fight, Cressida, don’t worry.”
“No, not that decision.”
Ainsley stared into Cressida’s brown eyes, waiting.
“You can decide that you are scared. You can worry and you can over think this and you will be killed immediately. OR you can do what you did the other night.”
“What do you mean?”
“When Clive came after you. Did you get scared? Or did you get angry?”
“I got angry.”
Erik knelt by Cressida’s side to listen.
“Ainsley do you know what the pack will do to Erik and to me if Clive takes you down tonight?” Cressida continued.
“No.”
“Neither do we.” Cressida said. “How does that make you feel?”
“Responsible? Scared?”
“No,” Cressida replied. “How does it make you feel?”
Ainsley closed her eyes and tried to turn her brain off.
A wave of fury surged through her chest. Challenging her leadership and threatening the inner circle of her pack was an unspeakable audacity. Clive Warren would pay for it dearly.
A deep growl emanated from her chest and opened into a howl that shook the whole forest. Erik and Cressida added their voices in a cacophonous harmony.
“What now?” Ainsley asked when their song was done.
“Eat, drink, walk to town,” Erik said.
Ainsley wasn’t hungry, but she knew she’d better take any sustenance she could.
Chapter 8
Grace had a bad feeling.
Something wasn’t right about the call. First of all, it didn’t come from dispatch. Secondly, Clive was not the type of guy to get personally worried about a situation in the middle of the ni
ght. He was more the type to forget he was on call and drink beer while the emergency calls rang until they were forwarded to the Springton Police.
But Grace was a good cop. And this was a domestic with a little kid involved. She could ask all the questions she wanted later. For now she had to do whatever needed to be done to save the little boy.
She hopped into her patrol car and headed out to Hillside Avenue, in the far northwest corner of Tarker’s Hollow. It seemed like there were more cars on the road than would be typical on a weeknight at 8:45. And there were people out walking too. It must be the unseasonably good weather. Or maybe there was something going on over at the college campus.
Clive usually put out word if there were anything unusual going on over at campus, though. And nobody out tonight really looked like they were headed anywhere fun. As a matter of fact, to Grace they all looked like they were going to a funeral.
She would head over and check it out herself, as soon as she finished this call.
Chapter 9
Ainsley could feel the vibration of her pack’s anticipation. She wasn’t surprised when she entered the construction site to find so many in attendance.
Erik and Cressida followed behind her.
It was the natural way of things. They knew more than she did and she relied on their support and help. But at the end of the day, the alpha always stood alone.
Clive stood at the opposite end of the site.
The moonlight caught his flaxen hair and highlighted the bulges and curves of his enormous muscled body. His high cheekbones looked razor sharp.
He looked like an alpha.
Ainsley tried not to think about how weak her soft body must look in comparison.
Trying to distract herself, she scanned the surroundings for something she could use to her advantage.
A chain link fence surrounded the site. The ground was all loose dirt. The trees and bushes had already been removed.
Most of the machines appeared to be meant for pushing the dirt around to level it. The building’s foundation hadn’t been dug yet. Here and there Ainsley saw wooden stakes with ribbons tied to them in different colors. They must have something to do with where the foundation should go.
Ainsley felt a shift in emotions and looked up to see Clive striding toward her.
The crowd collectively held their breath.
“Ainsley Connor, I challenge you for control of the Tarker’s Mill pack,” he said.
His lazy voice was loud enough for everyone to hear.
Ainsley stepped toward him and tried to remember what Erik had said to Justin.
“Clive Warren, I accept your challenge.”
She wasn’t sure if her voice rung through the air, but she could feel that it was heard by her pack anyway. Those who were present and those who were not heard it equally.
She looked up to make eye contact with Clive. She had to show him that she was not afraid. She was going to fight hard for her pack.
Predictably, she supposed, he was staring at her breasts. She could smell that his penis was hardening, though she would not deign to look.
It affronted her wolf that he would allow himself to imagine mounting her.
She fought to calm herself and decided to shift. There didn’t seem to be a referee. She may as well start the fight.
She tried to remember the advice of her mate and her consort. Cressida’s words echoed in her mind, tempered by Erik’s and she repeated to herself Be angry, but don’t lose your patience.
She called to her wolf and slid into her soft red fur.
Instantly, her focus narrowed and her hearing and sense of smell expanded beyond their already heroic reach.
She dashed into the darkness. As her paws hit the dirt she could smell the sharp note of Clive’s wolf. She didn’t even know what he looked like, but now was probably not a good time to turn around.
As she tore across the dusty site she realized how well Clive had stacked the deck in choosing a location for their fight. Maybe he was a little smarter than she had been giving him credit for, at least when it came to this sort of thing.
There were few hiding places on the empty site. And when she ran she kicked up dust behind herself – giving Clive an easy way to find her. It was going to be hard to use any of Cressida’s small wolf tactics.
She realized she would have to rely on her speed and stamina alone to gain any advantage.
Crouching behind a yellow backhoe, Ainsley willed her pounding heart to slow before it gave her away. She could hear Clive stalking nearby and she had no idea what she would do when he got too close.
It helped that there were so many wolves to bear witness. All their smells and sounds might cloak hers partially.
When she heard him nose around just a few feet away, Ainsley pounced.
She flew through the air toward his hind end. He was enormous, even compared to the other wolves. His shaggy coat was the color of wheat.
She missed, but she also managed to dash between a few more pieces of equipment and lose him again.
It was terrifying, yet exhilarating too.
Ainsley tried another pass. Again, she missed. Again, she managed to dash out of the way before he could retaliate.
And so the fight continued. Ainsley began to learn Clive’s rhythm and his speed. She used it to confound him. Though she never managed to land an attack she did manage to stay the aggressor and to escape him each time he tried to catch her.
She could tell by his breath and his heartbeat that he was tiring of the chase. His charges were wilder, less focused. He was probably pretty mad too though, so she knew it was more important now than ever to stay on her toes. She needed to goad him until he lost focus, then he would make a mistake.
She pushed her heightened senses, and realized she could actually hear his muscles contracting before he sprung. This newfound information made dodging his attacks that much easier.
As the fight dragged on, Ainsley began to tire. She wondered how much longer she could keep it up and still have the strength to finish him when the opportunity presented itself.
On her next pass, Ainsley chose to launch herself off the top of the backhoe she’d originally hid behind. Her old scent should serve to mask her new scent.
She slunk up to the machine and climbed the big rubber rear wheel silently. A single leap took her to the roof of the cab.
Clive turned at the click of Ainsley’s claws on the roof, and headed toward her.
Ainsley held her breath as he approached. His stalking was slow and he seemed to be reaching out for her with all his senses.
He was fifty feet away. Forty.
Ainsley tried to still her heart.
Thirty feet.
It was impossible not to launch herself at him, but she held.
Twenty. Ten.
Finally, Ainsley unleashed her coiled muscles and flung herself down at the massive buff-colored wolf below.
She landed on his back and bit down. She had caught his ear.
He snared and flung her off, then barreled toward her with all his might.
Instinctively, Ainsley sidestepped him, turned, and hightailed back into the shadows.
She spat something coppery and hairy into the dust, then glanced at it.
A piece of Clive’s ear.
Triumphantly, she turned back toward the center of the site.
She couldn’t sense Clive immediately.
Strange.
She ratcheted her heightened senses to the max, demanding that her excellent night vision show her every corner of the site, and squeezing every sound wave out of the air.
At that moment, a flash of blinding light sent a wave of white pain through her pupils. An engine started up nearby, and it sounded like bullets crashing against a metal wall. The smell of diesel exhaust drove away all the other scents. The cacophony bore down on her like a landslide.
Clive had turned on the work lights and a piece of machinery – pushing Ainsley into sensory overload.
Ainsley was blinded and deafened - crushed by her senses. She froze on the spot.
Somewhere, beyond the din, she could hear Erik and Cressida urging her to snap out of it. She reached for their voices like a drowning woman reaching for a life preserver.
Let it flow past, like a river. Concentrate.
Her vision cleared in time to see a dun colored thing hurtling at her. She had no time to react.
Clive tackled her so hard it was like being hit by a truck.
Ainsley heard several of her own ribs snap. The pain radiated through her like a spreading fire.
Before she could move, there was a wrenching, tearing pain in her shoulder. Clive was biting her.
She turned and he was lifting his head away - shaking a chunk of her flesh in his mouth for everyone to see. The pain blossomed and burned in her shoulder like a living thing.
Ainsley forgot herself and howled in pain.
She heard Erik cry her name in despair. She glanced at the sidelines to see Will and Justin and a couple of other guys holding him back as he fought to go to her.
Behind him, Cressida turned away and slinked through the crowd. The abandonment stung, but at least she would be gone before they decided to turn on her.
Chapter 10
Grace approached the house. There were no lights on inside. Her fingers danced on her holster. Something wasn’t right. Grace had learned to trust her overdeveloped sense of intuition.
She walked up the wooden steps to the front porch of the Victorian twin. No one lurked in the shadows – just a set of wicker patio furniture.
She took a breath and rapped on the door.
No answer.
She knocked again, loudly this time with her metal flashlight.
“Tarker’s Hollow Police Department.”
Still no answer.
She went around back but the back door was locked. As were the Bilco doors to the basement.
The yard was deep and wooded. She walked it once to be sure there was no one there. It was completely deserted.