by Marcy Jacks
Noah pulled one off the wall, unsheathing it just so he could see blade beneath.
Was this a hunting blade? And if so, for hunting what? Did wolf shifters really need knives when they had claws?
According to all these knives on the wall, the answer to that was a massive yes.
Well, even for someone with claws, having more weapons around when there were people out there who wanted to wipe out the shifters' way of life couldn't be a bad idea.
Noah took one of the knives. Then he took another. Having two of these things on his person would help him a lot more than they would sitting on that wall. They even had little clips for his belt.
He clipped them on, feeling strangely official, but at the same time, he wasn't so sure if he could stab someone. Even someone trying to kill him.
No. He could. This was his life. He'd been trapped in that stupid factory for days because those hunters picked him off, knowing he didn't have much in the way of family. They knew no one would come looking for him. Not like with Sam, who had a father, friends, and a career.
Now he was here. A miracle happened, and he’d been able to get the hell out of that hellhole. He wasn't going back. He wasn't letting these guys hurt him. And if it came down to it…
Noah pulled one of the knives from its sheath. He was going to keep this thing exposed for as long as he could. At least until Maxwell came back for him.
But what if he didn't come back?
Noah flinched, the sound of gunfire above his head getting to him. He was exposed here. He didn't want to stay here. What if someone tried getting in? Could they? Maxwell seemed pretty sure they couldn't, but what it…
Noah started looking around again. There had to be something he could use to figure out what exactly was happening outside.
There were no monitors he could find, and he did try looking. He looked even under the bed, sliding his hands along the floor and walls, hoping to find a hidden panel.
He checked all the drawers, searched behind the packs of food, and then opened the chest at the foot of the bed.
There were more blankets and ropes in the chest, a first aid kit, extra bandages, a book on how to treat werewolves without accidentally poisoning them with silver or becoming infected by their disease.
And beneath all of that was a radio and a walkie-talkie. A real one, heavy duty.
This wasn't the thing he'd played with as a kid with his friends in the park.
Noah turned the dials and flipped a couple of switches, trying to figure out how to work it.
Eventually, it screeched on, and Noah held the thing away from his ear as he found out how to turn down the volume.
He hissed, still hearing the ringing as he figured out how to talk into it.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
These had to be set to other homes on the pack territory, right? Not that he knew exactly how that worked, but he had to try. If he could get someone else's attention, another shifter in this pack, maybe he could help wake up more people who could give Maxwell a hand.
"Is anyone there? Please, I need some help."
"Who is this?"
The voice on the other end of the line made Noah jump. It was rough, angry.
"Are you with the pack? You need to get everyone up. The hunters are here."
There was a hesitation on the other end before the person speaking asked his next question. "Where are you?"
"In Maxwell's house. The alpha. I'm Noah. Please, you have to do something. The hunters will be coming for you, too. Where's your place?"
Not all shifters had homes in the immediate area of the packs they were affiliated with. Noah knew that much about pack life.
"Maxwell…is it that big house over there with the chimney?"
"I don't know. I just got here…"
Noah trailed off, and it felt as though all the blood was trying it's damndest to drain right out of his face.
"Why are you asking me that?"
"Don't worry. We're coming for you."
The smile in the man's voice sounded a little too real for Noah's liking. He turned off the radio, as though it would somehow take back the entire conversation he'd just had.
Someone who lived in this pack, even if their house wasn't around here, would have to know what Maxwell's house looked like. There was no way they wouldn't.
Was Noah talking to a hunter? Did he somehow get onto their channel?
Oh fuck. Oh fuck, they were coming down here, weren't they?
Noah struggled to keep his breathing calm and even. He didn't want to be here. He couldn't breathe in this space.
He was having a panic attack. Everything felt as though it was slowing down. He couldn't get a grip on himself, and when he heard the banging on the other side of the door, Noah fell to his knees next to the cot.
He tried to keep the knife he held on to away from his body. He didn't want to accidentally stab himself.
The banging went on and on, and Noah shut his eyes.
"Go away!"
"Come on out of there. We're part of the pack. We'll keep you safe."
Noah looked up at the door. He wished he could see the other side of it. He might give that to Maxwell as his suggestion for improvements to this room, but even if he could see outside, he doubted he would know the difference between shifters and normal humans.
"You're hunters. Fuck off. I'm not letting you in."
He heard some cursing on the other side of the door. "All right, fine, we'll prove it to you."
More talking. Noah pushed himself up onto shaky legs, wobbling over to the door so he could better hear what was happening out there.
"What are you doing?"
"Shifting. Go ahead."
Noah frowned. He listened, unsure what he was supposed to listen for through the thick steel, but he did make out the sounds of what could be bones breaking. Or someone snapping tree branches.
Then there was a growling noise followed by a yipping sound.
That did sound as though they had something out there.
"That could be a dog. That doesn't prove anything."
"Christ," one of the men muttered, and then there was a bang against the door, but it was above Noah's head.
He fell back a step, watching the door, listening to the sounds of claws scratching against the metal.
It was too high up to be any normal dog, or even a natural wolf.
The howl gave it away. That wasn't a recording. That was a real werewolf out there. A big one, too.
Noah sighed, pressing his forehead against the steel. "You're real."
"That's right. Come on out of there. The alpha wants to put you in with the others."
Maxwell wanted him with others? Probably the omegas and children.
Noah opened the door. It was difficult. The door was heavy.
For a hair of a second, he thought he might be making a mistake, but then, when he spotted the big black wolf in front of him, Noah sighed.
This was definitely a werewolf.
The guys in black standing behind the wolf, weapons in their hands, each one slowly pulling their masks back around their faces, was another story.
Noah backed into the safe room again, but it was too late. One of the men reached out and grabbed him by his forearms, yanking him out, taking him by the back of the neck.
"All right now. No fighting and I'll make sure this doesn't hurt too bad."
Noah didn't listen. He turned the blade onto the man, stabbing him in the hip before he could notice the blade in Noah's hand in the first place. The guy grunted and tried to pull back, but Noah went with him, shouting, pushing the blade deeper into his flesh before he lost this chance forever.
Someone grabbed him from behind, yanking him back. Noah didn't release the blade.
He slashed blindly, catching the next man in the arm. He hissed and pulled back, which was when Noah realized there was still one more person in there who had a gun in his hands, and then the wolf.
They both loo
ked at him, and Noah stared at them before he turned and ran toward the basement stairs.
He didn't think about why he wasn't shot in the back. He just ran, his knees magically not giving out on him as he took the stairs two at a time and went straight for the door.
Chapter Nine
Maxwell met up with Flynn and Collin first. Dennis was injured, his hind leg bleeding, but not so freely that it was enough to concern Maxwell just yet. The way he favored his back leg while in his wolf form was starting to make Maxwell a little more concerned about the possibility of silver poisoning.
He couldn't think about that, not while hunters were breaking into homes and dragging out betas, omegas, and pups and terrorizing them.
There were bodies on the ground.
Trevor was dead, catching a bullet defending an omega and a little girl.
Someone was going to die for that one.
How did they find us? Collin asked, running next to him, fangs seeming extra long tonight.
Worry about that later. We'll kill these guys first and figure out what they're working with later.
Maxwell wasn't about to let the motherfuckers get away with this shit either. There were going to be more deaths when he finished when them, and they wouldn't be from anyone in Maxwell's pack.
The four of them ran swiftly through the trees. Dennis stuck to the rear because of his injury, but he still managed to do a fine job of picking off anyone who tried to come up from the rear with a gun.
More than once, Maxwell heard the sounds of a human eating shit as Dennis let his teeth sink into their throats.
Maxwell couldn't help but think it was kind of funny. So did his inner wolf. He and the beast had never been this in tune with each other since…ever.
There was no fight. It was as though they were in sync with each other.
And of course they would be. Now that they had their soul, why wouldn't they be?
And even knowing that much was enough to make his energy leap. Even with the blood in the air, with knowing his own people were in danger, Maxwell felt as though he could bring down a tank. He wanted to howl at the moon like a warrior of old. He wanted to get revenge for the people taken and killed, and he wanted to lay the corpses of his enemies at the feet of his mate for giving him the strength to do it.
After a while, Maxwell was confident that his other alphas would be able to take care of this trash problem he'd been saddled with, and he started to sniff out where these bastards had come from.
He thought he found it. It took him a little ways away from his home, but for the moment, that was all right. Collin, Flynn, and Dennis seemed to get the same idea, and he felt the stirrings of their wolves as they neared their targets.
There were three Jeeps parked well down the road. They weren't hidden too well, but in the darkness of night, all the hunters would need to do would be to trek through the woods and get to the homes they planned on terrorizing, and in the dark, any other vehicle driving by wouldn't notice the Jeeps behind the McDonald's sign.
Maxwell pulled his teeth back, breathing through his mouth, watching the scene.
There were two humans there. One smoked a cigarette while leaning against the hood of the Jeep. The other was sitting in the driver's side.
If there were more, Maxwell couldn't see them. There were so many scents right here that it was difficult to get his bearings on any of them.
But what he did smell next had him pausing before he could step one more paw forward.
Flynn pulled his ears back. What? What's the matter?
Something was wrong. Maxwell could feel it in his gut. Not just because of the humans who were sitting around here with their thumbs up their asses.
Something's wrong. Another wolf was here…
What? Flynn put his nose into the air, and then he growled low in his throat.
Collin inched forward. I smell it, too. You think they have him as a prisoner?
Maxwell eyed the Jeeps. He thought about it for just a minute.
I'm going back.
Dennis made it to where they all stood. What's going on?
Collin growled. We're leaving. Something's wrong.
What? What's the matter?
Maxwell didn't have time to feel sorry for the other wolf for coming this far just to be told there was no prize in it for him. He needed to get back to Noah.
Those Jeeps don't look like they've got a cage big enough to hold one of our own in them. I'm going back. Dennis, if you really want, you, Flynn, and Collin can fuck up their day and flatten their tires.
He could see the smile on Dennis' face with that offer.
Gotcha, boss.
Collin stepped in front of Maxwell before he could gun it. Tell me what the matter is. I can't help you if you don't.
He didn't have time for this. I think they're using a wolf shifter. That's how they were able to round up so many wolf souls. They've got a wolf on my territory, and if they use him to get to Noah or to Sam…
The mention of Sam's name was all it took to get Collin's ears up. He stepped up beside Maxwell, and together they ran back home, leaving Flynn and Dennis there to take care of the men still waiting by their getaway vehicles.
The screams that followed after Maxwell as he ran back to his mate were of little comfort.
* * * *
Noah made it up the stairs, but that was as far as he got before something hard crashed into him.
No, that was the wrong word. Crash implied the other party didn't have much control over the situation either.
More like Noah was tackled by something much bigger and more solid than he was.
"All right, enough."
"Let go of me!"
Noah tried to stab the guy behind him the same way he'd done to the other two men in the basement, but this guy saw it coming. He grabbed Noah by his wrist, holding on so tight that Noah cried out from the pain of it. He dropped the knife, but that terrible pain still didn't stop.
This guy was trying to break his wrist!
He struggled and fought to get away, but even though he didn't consider himself to be a frail guy, he couldn't seem to get this guy to let go of him.
The panic attack started to manifest itself again. The first time Noah had been taken, it was because someone had broken into his house and put something over his mouth until he'd blacked out.
It hadn't been fair. A cowardly, dickhead move that Noah had been certain wouldn't happen if it had been a fair fight.
He was a man. He was young and healthy, and he should be strong enough to fight this asshole off of him.
But he wasn't. He couldn't get away, even when he wiggled and tried to make his weight dead, this guy was too damned strong for him to handle. Too strong to throw off.
"Stop struggling!"
The worst white-hot lightning pain flew up Noah's arm. He screamed and went down. The man above him shook his head, but Noah couldn't hear it as he was focused on gripping his ruined arm, trying to keep it from falling off his body.
Because that was sure as hell what it felt like was about to happen.
Then the man in black stood over him. He pointed his gun right at Noah's forehead, and Noah suddenly couldn't breathe. His heart stopped, and he stared up at the man, feeling the cold, hard steel pressing mercilessly against his skull.
"D-don't kill me."
He would have pissed his pants if there had been anything to release, but there was nothing, and Noah looked up at the other man, searching for any hint of humanity within his eyes, but he couldn't be sure that he was seeing anything. Nothing that would suggest this guy cared or not whether he lived or died.
"Those were my friends down there you stabbed, you little sack of shit."
Noah raised his good hand, trying to show how harmless he was. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I won't…I won't try anything like that again."
Noah was pretty sure he saw the man's jaw clench up through the mask before he grunted and pulled his gun back.
"You b
etter believe you won't."
Noah looked up. Or down, whatever it was, but he could see the wolf coming to stand at the top of the stairs, and it looked at him.
Noah stared back. He wasn't entirely sure what he saw in those eyes, but then the man above him grabbed onto his arm, the arm he'd maybe broken, and Noah screamed bloody murder as he was yanked to his feet by his bad arm.
Even when he was slapped hard across the face, Noah barely felt it in comparison to the hot throbbing of his arm.
God, was it broken? He hoped it wasn’t broken, but this was killing him. It hurt so bad.
The wolf pushed at his legs as the other man dragged him to the door. Noah managed to pull enough brain cells together to see two more men struggling up the stairs. The men he'd stabbed and sliced. Noah doubted he would have done much damage to the one guy whose arm he sliced, but he was kind of hoping he'd taken down the other one permanently.
Apparently not, and now he was stuck trudging along, going God only knew where.
The man spoke into his radio.
"We got another one. We're coming back."
Coming back? Coming back where? Noah didn't have the strength to fight anymore, so he just went along, walking with the wolf and the other men before his arm was grabbed again.
He looked back at the wolf and the two guys behind him.
Both men glared death and destruction at Noah. One had his mask off and sweated like crazy. Noah imagined that was the one he'd stabbed deep in the waist. He was probably super pissed as his friend helped him to walk.
Too bad he wasn't dead.
Noah looked at the wolf, stunned to see him here at all.
He wanted to ask so many questions. Why was he doing this? Was he being paid? Was he a prisoner? Or did he just not care either way?
Not all wolf shifters were good, the same way not all humans were good, but while there were murderous wolf packs out there, it was such an odd thing to see a wolf shifter working with the hunters.
Noah didn't want his other arm broken, so he didn't say anything. He didn't want to give this asshole any ideas.
But he had to do something. Noah started to sweat, and even the terrible throb in his arm wasn't enough to prevent him from watching the trees and woods, searching for dark spots he could slip into, areas where he could run. Maybe he could get away.