Emma straightened. Tell Bree. Her friend could stand by the door while Emma went outside to check.
Before she’d gotten two steps toward the kitchen, she heard a high, thin scream. A child’s sound of fright.
Emma broke fingernails undoing the bolt. She flung open the door. “Minette!”
No response.
She stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind her.
“Minette, where are you?” The front parking area was empty. The narrow gravel road leading to the lodge was empty. Small log cabins extended in wings to the right and left of the lodge, but nothing moved. She squinted, trying to see into the darkness on the other side of the parking area. Somewhere over there was the path to the Wild Hunt tavern.
The wind caught her shirt, flapping it against her skin as she started down the porch steps.
There. Something moved.
Just past the glow of the porch light, a small figure stood unmoving on the path to the tavern.
Couldn’t she see Emma? “Kitten…” Emma’s voice trailed off as she realized the child was frozen, eyes wide with terror. She was staring off to the right.
The door of the third cabin to the south banged open. Followed by two males, Genevieve dashed out. “Where is she?” She spotted the girl and started across the drive.
Emma’s stomach flip-flopped as the wind brought her the distinctive stench of rotting carrion and citrus.
“I smell a… Fuck, there’s a hellhound around,” one male shouted.
As if summoned, a nightmarish creature charged out of the darkness—straight for Genevieve.
One male yanked the female back.
The other male sprang in front. The hellhound didn’t slow, and the male’s fist bounced off the armored creature. Massive jaws snapped onto the male’s arm, and he shouted in pain. And fell.
As the hellhound savaged its screaming victim, Emma raced across the gravel lot and snatched Minette up. Trembling, the cub clung to Emma.
The other male started toward the battle, but Genevieve shrieked, “You have to protect me!” Grabbing his shirt, she dragged him into their cabin. The door slammed shut behind them.
No!
Emma’s pulse roared in her ears. The male and Genevieve had left her and Minette outside. Alone. With that thing. Emma tried to breathe through the fear clogging her throat. Oh, Mother Goddess, what could she do?
All the cabins would be locked. She needed to get them to the lodge. Could they make it?
The creature stood in front of the row of cabins—not directly in front of the lodge. But there was no cover in the road or parking area. The minute she and Minette stepped onto the graveled area, the creature would see them.
Emma knew too well how fast the hellhound could move. It’d intercept them before they even reached the porch, let alone got the door open. The lodge was out.
Behind them was the trail to the tavern. Run to Joe Thorson?
But the gusty wind was already blowing their scent toward the hellhound. Once finished with the male, it would smell them. Probably hear them. They wouldn’t make it to the tavern. Not before the creature caught them.
A whimper bottled up her throat. The wind swirled, carrying the scent of blood and death. A tiny sound escaped Emma. Run. Just run. She could smell her own fear. Courage was for those who hadn’t faced a hellhound before. Run.
Minette trembled in her arms. It would attack the cub first.
No. Never. Emma’s mouth compressed into a determined line. No hellhound would touch her cubling.
She whispered almost inaudibly into the tiny ear, “I want you to run toward that light. To the tavern.” She pointed at the light flickering through the trees. She set the child on her feet. “I’m counting on you, Minette. Run fast and get help.”
Keeping an eye on the hellhound, she gave the girl a push.
After a second of resistance, the girl fled—her light footsteps still too loud in the still night.
The hellhound lifted its head from the now lifeless body. One red eye blazed viciously; the other was covered in white scar tissue. It’d lost an eye in the past.
Oh, Mother, help me. This was the very hellhound that’d almost killed her. That’d hurt her and left her crippled. Fear welled up until she was drowning in it. Choking.
It hadn’t seen her. Yet.
Every instinct demanded for her to run, to take the only possible escape down the path behind her.
Minette was on that path.
The shark-like head moved to the left and right as it surveyed the area, the closed cabin doors, the lodge, the graveled lot. The one-eyed gaze settled on Emma.
Despite her heart slamming against her ribs, terror froze the blood in her veins. Her body cringed at the memory of razor-sharp teeth ripping into her leg, of her bones snapping like kindling, of…agony.
The strength seemed to drain from her bones, muscles and sinews.
Trawsfur. She should shift into bear shape, be faster, stronger. No. No time to undress. Her clothes would tangle and trap her.
Eye fixed on her, the hellhound sniffed the air. It stiffened and then snarled, revealing savagely pointed teeth.
It knew her.
Run. Run, run, run. Every cell in her body was screaming, a cauldron of noise.
But she still heard the pattering footsteps and rustle from Minette on the path. The gusts of wind held the scent of the terrified cubling. Such easy prey. The monster wouldn’t be able to resist.
Then give it an easier kill.
On a sucked-in breath, Emma lunged into a desperate sprint directly away from the path to the tavern. Here I am. Panicking game. She darted toward the lodge, keeping her gaze only on the target.
A snarl from the right made Emma run faster. Blindly. Genuine, mindless panic flooded her. She couldn’t outrun it. It’d get her. Kill her. Her skin shrank in anticipation of the pain.
The scraping sound of the paws on the gravel increased as the creature narrowed the distance. Just before it reached her, she veered sharply left.
Much heavier, it overran her position before circling back toward her.
She dodged again, almost too late. Its spiked armor plates snagged at her clothes.
Each breath, each step felt like her last. Regret grayed her sight. Ben. Ryder. I love you. What might have been…
The beast hit her from behind, knocking her onto her face. Gasping for breath, she rolled onto her back and kicked frantically.
It lunged for her vulnerable stomach. Her foot knocked the huge jaw away.
The hellhound twisted back, snapping, catching her thigh. Savage teeth bit down through her jeans and deep into her flesh.
Pain. Sharp, horrible, inescapable. Screaming, she shoved and kicked and then, fighting off her terror, she poked her finger toward its unscarred eye.
Instinctively, the hellhound released her, turning its head to avoid losing its remaining eye. Growling hideously, it darted at her so fast she could only grab its throat as it went for hers. Gore dripped from its mouth onto her shirt as she struggled to hold it back.
Her arms shook uncontrollably, weakening against its massive weight.
From the corner of her eyes, she saw a dark shape. It streaked across the lot. With a chilling scream, the cougar landed on the creature’s hindquarters. As the feline’s claws scraped uselessly over the bony armor, the hellhound whipped around.
*
A COUGAR’S SCREAM split the night air. Ben recognized the sound. Ryder!
Swiveling his ears to mark the direction, he charged through the forest, pushing his limits. Branches slapped against his heavy fur and stung his muzzle.
Alec was in human form and racing after him.
They had far too much distance to travel, dammit.
After Shay and Zeb had lost Minette’s trail in the creek behind the lodge, the two had headed upstream. Taking the other direction, Ben and Alec had followed Ryder’s scent downstream. Then screaming—a child, a man, a female—from the
lodge had sent him and Alec running back.
Dread filled Ben as he galloped around the back of the lodge toward the front. He tore into the graveled parking area and spotted the hellhound.
A cougar faced it. Alone.
Snarling, Ryder was pacing back and forth, slashing feline-quick at the hellhound’s single eye. On the ground behind him, Emma tried to drag herself away from the battle.
With a last burst of speed, Ben bulldozed the creature, knocking it away from Ryder. The scent of Emma’s fear added to Ben’s fury as he spun and bit the hellhound’s hind leg. Bearing down, he ground his fangs into the crevasses between the armor plates and got the foul taste of demon blood.
Roaring with pain, the hellhound snaked its head around.
Fuck. Ben jumped away. A fiery burn over his ribs said the demon-dog had nailed him.
Something flashed past him, the scent was Shay’s. The wolf’s snarl was deep and ugly. As the hellhound lunged at the alpha, a darker wolf attacked from the other side.
Alec ran into the lot, skidding to a stop on the gravel. He had a knife in one hand, his pistol in the other.
As Zeb and Shay darted away from the hellhound, Alec yelled, “Stay back,” and Ben realized other shifters had appeared from the cabins.
“All-in,” Alec barked—the cahir code for a full-out attack.
Ben lumbered into a run, and the hellhound turned to face him. If it went for Ben’s throat, it’d win.
Before Ben could hit, Ryder sprang from behind the hellhound and landed on the creature’s head in a frenzy of claws and teeth and shrieks.
When the monster turned in defense, Ryder sprang off and darted away.
Perfect. Ben rammed into demon-dog’s shoulder so violently the pointed plates slashed through his fur and skin and deep into his muscle.
Knocked off its feet, the hellhound landed on its side and scrambled to stand. The wolves attacked from the rear, tearing and worrying at its legs to keep it from rising.
As Ben gathered himself to attack again, Alec ran forward, dodged a snapping jaw, and slammed his pick-thin dagger straight into the creature’s one good eye.
The shriek it gave curdled Ben’s blood. Air shimmered around the creature, leaving behind a naked human. A dead one.
Sides heaving, Ben let his head drop as he tried to regain his breath. The stench of the creature still clung, returning every time the wind shifted direction. Instinctively, Ben shook his fur—which only made every scrape and bite hurt like hellfire. Fuck. Growling at the pain, he headed for his family.
He passed the lodge porch. Hair blowing in the wind, Breanne stood on the bottom step, pistol in one hand. Near her, Zeb and Shay shifted to human and stood.
Farther down, in front of the south cabins, a body lay in a lake of blood, mangled into something unrecognizable. Ben’s heart skipped a beat—but the size was too big to be Minette. And was a male. Phone to his ear, Alec was already heading toward the body.
Ben padded quickly toward the center of the gravel lot.
Trawsfurred to human, Ryder knelt beside Emma. The yellow porch light turned blood a streaky brown—and it covered Emma’s clothes. Ryder’s skin.
So fucking much blood.
Why wasn’t Emma moving? By the God, no.
Ben broke into a run and paused only to shift in the last moment before reaching them.
Emma…
His heart hammered far worse than during the fight with the hellhound. And then…then he saw her push Ryder’s hand away as she tried to sit up. Relief buckled Ben’s knees. Lacking any grace, he half-fell beside his brother and their mate—because she damned well was. Thank the Mother.
“Who’s bleeding?” he growled out.
Ryder gave a half-laugh. “Who isn’t?”
“Yeah, well.” He could feel the warmth of blood pouring down his left arm from the punctures all over his shoulder. “Breanne, get your first aid kit.” Even shouting hurt.
“Will do.” She disappeared into the lodge.
“Good plan.” Pain deepened Ryder’s baritone to a low rumble.
“Bro,” Ben said, unable to keep from touching Ryder’s shoulder to check for warmth. Alive. He curled his other hand around Emma’s nape. Alive. “Where’s Minette?”
“I told her to run. We must find her.” Emma grabbed his arm to try to pull up. “I’ll show you. Now.”
Ben pulled her hands free and held her still. “Darlin’, just tell me where.”
“I sent her down the trail to the tavern, and I ran this…”
Her voice faded under his stare. She’d made herself into bait. He pulled in a breath. How easily she could have been killed.
“Ben, we need to find her!” Emma shook his hands. “What if there are more of those things?”
“Unlikely.” Hellhounds avoided each other. But other animals roamed the woods. The mite needed to be found immediately. “I’m going,”
“We’ll go, cahir,” said a renter from one of the cabins. His brother stood beside him. After a second, Ben recognized them as cousins of Kenner from the construction crew. At Ben’s nod, they took off running toward the tavern. Their words drifted in their wake, “Did you see? The cat took on a hellhound—and he’s not even a cahir.”
More shifters headed over to help Shay and Zeb and Alec.
“They’ll find her.” Ben squeezed Emma’s fingers. “We need to get you and Ryder patched up until the healer gets here.”
“Donal will be here in another minute.” The Cosantir’s distinctive deep voice cut through the commotion, bringing a moment of silence.
Ben stiffened. Calum must have returned early. Oh, hell.
“Daddy!”
Ben turned so fast, his head spun.
“Minette?” Ryder whispered.
In the center of the parking area, Calum had the cub in his arms. She wiggled frantically until he set her down.
The cub hit Ryder in a half-tackle, and he gave a pained grunt. Crying, kissing, burrowing into him, she was purely hysterical. And alive.
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.”
By the God, her tiny voice was the finest sound in the world. She lunged at Ben and climbed him like a tree to hug him with her tiny arms. Fuck, it hurt, but he wouldn’t have complained for the world. The relief of feeling her squirm, smelling her little girl scent was a warm rush, easing tight muscles. He heard himself huffing with pleasure.
She released him to throw herself on Emma. “Emma.”
“It’s all right, kitten. You’re safe,” Emma whispered, half strangled by Minette’s arms around her neck. “We’re all safe.” The bard was scraped, bleeding, and had narrowly escaped death, yet it was obvious her only thought was to comfort the cub.
He noticed Ryder had a hand on Minette—and so did Ben. Minette wasn’t the only one who needed physical reassurance.
“Here you go, Ben.” Breanne set a first aid kit down along with a couple of blankets. Before he had it open, the healer arrived.
“By the God, I hate hellhounds.” The healer squatted beside Ryder, his silver gaze flashing over each of them in turn. “What’s the damage this time?”
“Emma’s leg,” Ryder said. “My arm. Ben?”
“Bite on the ribs, shoulder punctures—and my right arm’s not moving right. Nothing urgent.” Blood was trickling rather than gushing down his arm and side. With his acknowledgment of the wounds, fresh pain hammered him as if he was on the receiving end of a pneumatic nail gun. “Start with Emma.”
“No, you first,” she said instantly.
Donal snorted at Emma’s protest and turned her leg to examine the wound. “Sorry, bard. Unless someone’s dying, I treat the females first. Otherwise, I’d waste time arguing with the males. Looks to me as if you’re all equally mangled.”
DESPITE THE GHASTLY pain in her leg, Emma choked back a laugh. Donal couldn’t be much older than Ben and Ryder. He shouldn’t be so cynical. “All right.”
Donal eyed Minette. “I need the cub off your lap.”
“Of course.” Shaking uncontrollably, Emma tried to release the cubling, but her arms wouldn’t relax their hold. Mine. “I c-can’t.”
“Know how you feel, darlin’, but it’s only for a bit.” Firmly, Ben disentangled Emma’s arms and lifted Minette up. “C’mere, kitten. Emma has an owie for the healer to fix. I’ll hold you till they’re done.”
With a sob, Minette turned and wrapped her arms around Ben’s neck.
“By the God, you scared me, cub.” Pulling her close, he kissed her head.
Emma’s eyes filled. The male had a heart as big as his body and courage to match. She’d been sure Ryder was about to die, but Ben hadn’t even hesitated, just charged right into the hellhound. Just as Ryder had done to save her.
“Now, let’s see what we’ve got.” With a surprising strength, Donal tore her jeans from the hem to above her knee.
Ow, ow, ow. The slight jarring sent agony through her, and she tried to jerk her leg away only to realize Ryder had an unyielding hold on her thigh.
“Easy, my little bear,” Ryder murmured. His right arm tightened around her shoulders; his left hand held her leg steady. “Hang onto me while he works, yeah?”
“It’ll hurt when I wash off the gravel, Emma.” Donal pulled a bottle of water from his bag. “Then it’s all downhill.”
More pain. Why was the apprehension worse now that the fighting was done? She wasn’t sure she could take it. Her eyes filled with tears; her breath hitched in her throat.
“Shhh.” Ryder tucked her head against his chest.
The water struck her wound and the pain flared into sheer agony. She clenched her teeth. Screaming would scare Minette.
Slowly, far too slowly, the scarlet-edged burning eased to a sharp throbbing, and she pulled in a breath.
“All cleaned up, girl. Now, let me make it all better.” Donal placed his hands on each side of the wound and bent his head.
The Mother-blessed warmth of his power touched her, melding the tissues, and the pain drained away.
With a faint smile, he lifted his hands. “See? Much more effective if I see you right away.” Pink, unbroken skin covered the area where the gaping flesh had been.
Eventide of the Bear Page 33