by Lori Drake
“Shit, I didn’t mean to shoot her,” Chris said, voice pitched low. “What do we do? She needs medical attention.” His breathing sounded a little less labored now that he was upright.
“She’s not the only one,” Joey muttered. It was hard to think around the bullet lodged in her thigh, but she did her best. “I have an idea. Try to keep up.” Ignoring his confused look, she looked over at Ben and Allie again. “How about a truce?”
Roger frowned at her. “Nice try, wolf. I’ll skin you for this. All of you!”
Allie punctuated his words with a pained cry, sobbing softly as she lay there.
“Listen to that,” Joey said. “Your child is suffering. She needs a doctor, if she’s going to have any chance at all.”
Roger only frowned more deeply, concern etched in Ben’s features as he gazed down at the afflicted teen. “A truce… while she is being tended to?”
“No,” Joey said. “A truce, forever. You back off, and your kid gets the best care money can buy. I’ll see to that. But you have to give up this mad quest for revenge.”
“Joey, we can’t…” Chris said.
“Trust me,” Joey whispered, keeping her eyes on Roger.
“You’d bargain with my child’s life? You really are monsters,” Roger said.
“Desperate times, desperate measures. What’s it gonna be?” Joey asked, trying to keep him on track. “Tick tock.”
Roger looked down at his daughter, conflict plain on his borrowed face. “Fine. Her life, in exchange for yours.”
Joey’s eyes narrowed. “Not just mine. Ours. My pack, Eric’s pack. No more spooky revenge killings from beyond the grave.”
A growl rumbled from Roger’s borrowed chest. “You. Your pack. Eric’s pack. But not Eric. He’s still mine.”
Joey hesitated, glancing at Chris. His discomfort with this whole affair was plain to see. What would her mother do, faced with this choice? She knew the answer. Pack before all.
“I don’t give a shit what you do to Eric. He’s earned it.” It felt just, somehow. She wasn’t willing to end Eric herself.
“Done,” Roger said, not taking his eyes off Allie. “Now help her.”
“That’s on you, buddy. You’re possessing our medic.”
“Oh. Right.” Still, he didn’t leave right away. He bent down and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “I love you, little girl. Be strong, okay?”
Joey looked away, giving them a moment to say goodbye in private. When she met Chris’s eyes, he still had a troubled look about him. “Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped, her patience thin on account of the burning agony that was her right leg.
Ben must have been very confused, coming back to himself with his hand pressed to a stranger’s stomach wound. But Roger kept up his end of the bargain. No more attacks came. Even the ghostly fog began to withdraw back into the trees. Smoke still poured from the grave as his salted body burned merrily. It smelled awful, but Joey wasn’t about to go try and put it out. For one, she couldn’t exactly walk once the surge of adrenaline subsided. Besides that, she needed Roger’s ashes as a backup in case he didn’t follow through once his daughter was tended to.
Or if, god forbid, she didn’t make it.
Joey hoped she did, for Chris’s sake if nothing else. He’d never forgive himself.
21
They gathered behind the house, when all was said and done. Jessica and Adam had taken Roger’s daughter to the emergency room for treatment. Dumping her there was bound to be tricky, since it required avoiding security cameras the cops would scour later to try and figure out who’d brought her in. They’d seemed confident enough that they could manage it. Chris hoped they were right.
The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the sky was starting to lighten as the first fingers of morning sunlight crested the horizon. Everyone was there, even Joey and Jenny—both of whom had to be carried outside. It’d taken some doing, but Ben had managed to pump both of them full of enough painkillers that they could be moved. They were settled in chairs and wrapped in blankets for extra warmth. Everyone else stood. Together, they ringed the chair where Eric sat, bound and gagged, in the crisp morning air.
When Chris gave the nod, Itsuo came forward and cut the ropes binding Eric to the chair. He exploded from it and ripped off his gag, throwing it on the ground.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, looking from face to face. No one—not even Jenny—lowered their eyes.
Chris stepped forward, doing his best to shrug off bone-deep weariness and a persistent ache in his ribcage. He’d had a little over an hour to rest while waiting for Jessica and Adam to return. It hadn’t been enough. He would’ve liked a full day to recover before dealing with this, but time was a luxury they couldn’t afford. Thanks to the bargain Joey had made with Roger, Eric’s life was forfeit. Chris wasn’t sure why Roger hadn’t come for Eric already. Maybe he was preoccupied with his daughter’s condition. Whatever the case, Chris couldn’t risk any collateral damage, and no one wanted Eric around anyway.
Eric’s eyes locked with Chris’s as they stood face to face in the center of the circle. “Somehow I knew it’d come down to you and me, Martin.”
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be. We’ve all had a long night.”
“Say it. Say the words.”
Chris sighed, looking past Eric to where Joey sat. Forgive me.
“I challenge you.”
There were a few gasps from around the circle. Not everyone had realized quite where this was going. Chris wasn’t sure how he felt about it himself, but he was out of options. Neither Itsuo nor Jessica would do it, even now.
Eric just smirked and pulled off his shirt. “Bring it.”
Chris shrugged off his coat and removed his shirt as well, doing his best to hide how much it hurt to lift his arms over his head. The bandage around his chest mostly unwound itself once the clips were removed. As his bruised ribs were revealed, a quiet murmur rippled around the circle. Chris ignored it, but couldn’t ignore the cold air on his skin. He shed the rest of his clothes quickly and knelt to shift forms, wanting nothing quite so much as a fur coat against the icy breeze that rolled off the lake toward them.
He’d only shifted when injured a handful of times in his life. Each time, he’d braced himself for pain, only to find it not as bad as he expected. This time, it was just as bad as he expected. It took a few agonizing seconds for the magic in his blood to transform him from human to wolf, but once he stood on four paws, he found the pain much diminished. He shook his coat out and blinked, reveling in the sharpness of his night vision and the newfound simplicity of emotion. Gone was the anxiety, the worry and doubt. All that remained was determination as he faced his foe.
Eric stood before him, a hulking black wolf with yellow eyes. He bared his teeth and growled. Chris growled back, and they circled each other. Eric attacked first, charging with a vicious snarl. Chris evaded his snapping jaws and twisted, managing to score a bite along Eric’s shoulder. It wasn’t deep, but first blood was his.
He didn’t have any time to savor that victory, because Eric was on him again and now Eric was angry. Okay. Now Eric was angrier. He charged, knocking Chris off his feet. Pain flared as he landed on his side. Chris scrambled, kicking to try and push Eric away, and squirming to keep his enemy’s snapping jaws from closing on his throat.
Their dangerous dance continued under the lightening sky, teeth flashing and claws raking. They rolled around on the ground, each trying to gain a dominant position but neither able to manage it. They broke apart again and sprang to their feet, facing each other once more with ferocious growls and aggressive snaps of their jaws.
Again and again they clashed, until blood flowed from countless bites and scratches, darkening their fur and staining the ground beneath their paws. Once, Eric managed to kick Chris hard enough in the ribs that he yelped in pain. Eric’s jaws snapped at his throat, but Chris managed to roll away and get to his feet again. As they circled eac
h other, Eric limped slightly, favoring one leg. Chris waited for Eric to charge him again, and when he did, Chris went low and latched on to that leg. Blood welled across his tongue and his sharp teeth scraped bone. He clamped down and shook his head, tearing vicious furrows in that leg while Eric howled in agony, kicking and biting in an effort to escape.
Chris released Eric’s leg and sprang away again, circling while his foe struggled to stand on three legs. Eric’s cocky confidence was flagging. His bushy black tail pointed straight down, almost but not quite tucked between his legs. With a growl, Chris launched himself at Eric again. They went down in a flurry of snarls, but Chris got his teeth around the black wolf’s neck and tightened his jaws, almost but not quite piercing his foe’s thick scruff as he held him down. Eric squirmed and kicked but couldn’t get free. Chris clamped down harder and tasted blood. Eric whined and went still.
That was it. He’d won. Regardless, Chris growled and held Eric there a little longer. His wolf wanted to revel in the victory, rub Eric’s nose in it. But eventually he loosened his jaws and stepped back, breathing heavily from the exertion. He closed his eyes and willed himself back into his human form. With the icy wind once more licking his bare skin, Chris opened his eyes and looked at the man crouched a few feet away.
Eric held his savaged arm against his chest. They were both breathing heavily from their efforts and bloodied from various punctures and scratches, but they’d survive. Considering how Eric’s past challenges had ended, Chris was grateful for that. And, truth be told, a little surprised.
“It’s over,” Chris said. He clutched his aching side as he struggled to his feet.
Eric sprang forward in a full-on tackle.
Chris went down. Something cracked as he hit the ground; that crack was accompanied by a sharp stab of pain that put the rest to shame. Though Chris scrambled to lift his arms in his defense, Eric had the element of surprise, and proceeded to pummel his face.
“You think you can beat me?” Eric snarled. “You think you’re better than me? You’re nothing. You’re no one!”
“Stop him!” Joey barked.
Seconds later, Itsuo and Jessica grabbed Eric’s arms and hauled him off Chris.
“Judas!” Eric screamed, after they flung him on the ground. “I’d expect this from him, but you, Jess?”
“Fuck you, Eric,” she said. “I’m not your bitch anymore.”
Ben’s face hovered over Chris’s. “You okay, bro?”
Chris couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. He shook his head rapidly.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Chris opened his mouth, but no more than a gasping wheeze came out.
Ben’s brows shot up. “I need my bag!” He prodded Chris’s ribs with gentle fingers, and a fresh stab of pain lanced his side. Struggling to breathe, Chris managed to produce a groan, but nothing more.
“Hurry!” Ben yelled.
Eric was still shouting in the background, but it was all so much noise to Chris as he lay there on the cold ground. Seconds passed like hours. Joey’s worried face joined Ben’s in hovering over Chris. He locked eyes with her and she caught his hand. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear what she said over the blood rushing in his ears.
So this is how it ends.
It was probably fair. He’d gotten a second chance at life, and he’d squandered it. He’d let Joey slip through his fingers, wasted months being hurt and angry, stubbornly remained behind in San Diego while most of the rest of his family moved to Seattle and got on with their lives. He’d repeated the same mistakes, trying to fight battles that weren’t his to fight, and this time it wasn’t even for a friend. He’d put his life on the line for strangers—like he had another to spare. Still, gazing up into Joey’s brown eyes with the biting wind nipping at his bare skin and his brother frantically trying to help him… if he did it all over again, there was very little he’d change. Maybe standing up for the Granite Falls pack wasn’t his job, but he could at least die knowing it was the right thing to do.
He knew he was running out of time when he started to see stars. Reaching up, he half cupped and half grabbed the side of Joey’s face. She covered his hand with hers and said something else. He couldn’t make out the words, but her tone was pleading.
Then he felt a pinch in the center of his chest and the pressure in his ribcage started to abate. He managed to suck in one breath, then another. Breathing was still difficult, but possible. Each subsequent breath got a little bit easier.
The first words he was able to make sense of were Ben’s.
“Holy shit, it actually worked.”
Chris laughed reflexively, but that was a bad idea. Pain flared, and he coughed, gurgled, and spat up a little blood.
“Is he going to be okay?” Joey asked, worry still etched in her face.
“I think so, yeah. I had to field-expedite a chest dart to relieve the pressure in his chest. I think his broken rib punctured a lung and it collapsed. Give me that blanket, would you?”
Joey slipped the blanket from her shoulders, but rather than giving it to Ben, she draped it over Chris herself. “They taught you that in EMT school?”
“Yes. No. Actually, it was an anecdote from the trainer about his time in Iraq during Desert Storm. I believe his exact words were ‘do not ever do this in the field or you might lose your license.’”
Joey snorted. “Well, I’m not going to report you. What happens now?”
“Normally, a trip to an ER. But the way we regenerate… give him a minute or two. His lung should reinflate on its own.”
Now that he was covered, Chris began to realize just how cold he was. Before long, he was shivering under the blanket, but too grateful to be alive to voice any complaints. He closed his eyes and lay quietly, waiting while the magic in his blood repaired his broken body. Bones took time, but organ and tissue damage healed more quickly. Even during the new moon.
“Thank you,” he said, when he could spare the breath.
“Sure. Anything for you, bro. But to be honest, I hope to shit I don’t have to do that again.” Ben rummaged around in his bag until he produced a bottle of scotch, and uncapped it for several lengthy swallows.
Being healed enough to talk seemed to make Joey think he was healed enough to get a piece of her mind too. “You fucking idiot. What were you thinking?” She pinched his arm. His arms were basically the only part of him above the waist that didn’t hurt at the moment, so he grunted and eyed her.
Ben at least tried to help. “Maybe now isn’t the best time.”
Joey shot Ben a glare, and he lifted the bottle to his lips for another drink.
Chris’s eyes roamed Joey’s face. He smiled. “You’re pretty when you’re angry.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Joey snapped, but the corners of her mouth twitched in the barest hint of a smile before she refocused her ire. “Why did you do that? Why?”
“It had to be done.”
She frowned, rubbing his hand between both of hers. “Not here, not now… not… you!”
Chris squeezed her hand. “It had to be me.”
He lay there for a little longer, then pushed himself up into a sitting position with some help. The blanket fell across his lap and he looked down at the limp piece of rubber hanging from his chest. Ben reached out and tugged at it, pulling the slender needle out of Chris’s chest. A tiny dot of blood welled from the puncture, but Chris wiped it away with a thumb and no more appeared. The tiny pinhole in his skin had already closed.
“What is that?” Chris asked, motioning at the thing.
“IV needle and a latex glove finger. Long story,” Ben said.
Chris looked around and found things almost exactly as he’d left them. The Granite Falls wolves were still gathered around in a circle, but they watched him with universal concern. He put on a reassuring smile for them, at least briefly.
“Let me up! I won, dammit!” Eric’s objections were overruled by his former second and Itsuo,
who still held him pinned to the ground. Someone had thought to toss a blanket over him too.
Chris grabbed Ben’s arm. “Help me up. I need to finish this.”
He waved off Joey when she tried to help, not wanting her to put more weight on that leg than she had to. Ben had dug the bullet out earlier, but she was still in bad shape. Nonetheless, she hovered by his side. He took her hand again after wrapping the blanket around his waist. He’d thought being out here without a coat earlier was bad, but being naked was a whole other level of cold. Still, he had unfinished business to take care of before he could get dressed and, hopefully, fall into a nice, warm bed.
Looking down at his not-quite-vanquished foe, Chris felt nothing but contempt. “Has anyone ever mentioned that you’re a really sore loser?”
Eric growled and renewed his struggles against the other two alphas. “Let me up and we’ll see who’s the real loser!”
“The contest is over. You submitted.”
“I’ll never submit to anyone, much less you! This isn’t over, dammit! This pack is mine!”
Chris arched a brow, then looked around him. “What say you, Granite Falls pack? Do you still recognize this piece of shit as your Alpha?”
The chorus of “nos” came without hesitation.
Chris looked down at Eric again. “You heard them.”
Eric craned his neck, looking around the circle. “How dare you! After what I’ve done for you? This is how you treat me? This is the respect you show me?”
Beside Chris, Joey growled. He squeezed her hand.
“The thing about respect is that it can’t be demanded or taken,” Chris said. “It has to be earned. You’ve broken trust with your pack, put them in danger—even got two of them killed—when you swore to protect them. You deceived them into committing a vile act they never would have done otherwise. They no longer recognize you as their Alpha. What you think about that doesn’t matter.”
The muscles on Eric’s shoulders and arms stood out as he pulled against the grip of his captors. “Just like that, you’re going to waltz into my territory and try to take over? You’ll have to kill me first.”