Pride's Pursuit

by Cathryn Fox

  When the mechanic yells at the dog and hauls him inside, I turn my attention to the fat, ginger colored cat scurrying out from beneath a camper. It cuts across my path, stopping long enough to hiss at me. With its fur standing on end, the cat arches its back in a defensive mode, a failed attempt to make itself look bigger and frighten the big bad wolf away. Unable to help myself, I bare my fangs, and when it runs across the busy parking lot and disappears under a set of wooden steps, my wolf howls in juvenile delight, eager to take chase.

  Except I don’t let her. Because the sight of the cat reminds me I have more serious matters at hand. Like the deadly panthers that have been unleashed into the world. A fine shiver moves through me as I take a moment to wonder what will become of them, and of the humans they encounter. Then I once again think about the one panther that gave Gem her freedom, one that went against nature, against its family. The same way some wolves go against their nature, and turn their back on their packs to live rogue lives—the way my father had.

  With that last thought tossing the sandwich around in my stomach and pushing a thick clump of wet bread into my throat, I swallow hard, and shade the sun from my eyes. I nurse the soda and strive to wash away the bitter taste lining the inside of my mouth and I catalogue our surroundings to get my bearings. That’s when my father steps up to me.

  Around a mouthful of mustard-covered hot dog he says, “I’ve been looking over the coordinates, and Lewis Lake is well off the grid. I don’t think we should go in until after dark.”

  I think about that for a moment. It won’t give us an advantage if we’re up against feral panthers, but it could mean the difference between life and death if we stumble upon PTF officers. I’m well aware that all hunters are equipped with night vision goggles, but our night vision comes naturally, so the advantage is still ours.

  “Okay,” I agree.

  He gulps down the last of his food, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before turning his full focus on me. Dark eyes move over my face, assessing me. “What do you expect to find there, Pride?”

  “I don’t know, but since it’s our only lead I think it’s the crucial first step in figuring out where Malcolm and the others are.”

  “Are you prepared to do what you have to if you come across task force hunters?”

  “I’m prepared to talk, to reason with them. To show them we’re not monsters.”

  His brows collide as his forehead creases. “How do you expect to do that?”

  “By not killing them,” I announce.

  “And you think they’ll let you live, just because you spare their lives?” I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off and says, “They’re dangerous men and this is what they’ve been trained to do. It’s all they know and they enjoy it, Pride. It’s what they live for.”

  I tilt my chin, but don’t miss the knot tightening in my stomach. “I changed the mind of one, didn’t I?” As the words spill from my mouth, I wonder exactly who it is I’m trying to convince. Him or me. Either way, Logan’s family is missing, and while I have no idea what is waiting for us at Lewis Lake, I know it’s not in my nature to tuck tail and run in the other direction.

  Expression wary, my father pinches the bridge of his nose, his battle-scarred face twisting in pain. I stare at him and my stomach sours in confusion.

  Before I can ask what’s going on, he says, “Let me ask you one thing.” He pauses for a moment, and when he sees that he has my full attention, he asks, “What if you can’t change the minds of many? What if this is a war that you can’t win?”

  When I catch scent of his apprehension, old fears creep into my thoughts but I quickly shove them out. “I can, and I will,” I answer. I wave toward the rest of our pack who are still inside the convenience store. “I promised them all freedom, the chance to live normal lives outside the compound, and I plan on making that happen.”

  Signaling my disinterest in carrying on with this conversation, because I can’t let his doubts cloud my focus, I perch on the passenger seat and turn my thoughts to the maps sprawled out on the dashboard. I run my finger along the highlighted path Logan has outlined and remember his stake in all this. He has a family to find.

  “Define normal, Pride?”

  My father’s somber voice cuts through my thoughts like a silver blade, and my head jerks up with a start.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Define normal,” he says again.

  As I stare at him, he mops at a bead of sweat on his forehead and there is something so profound, so darkly disturbing in his eyes when he looks past my shoulder to stare at the long, black stretch of highway ahead of us, that it steals the words from my lips.

  A warm afternoon breeze whips my hair around my face, and when my father exhales slowly I catch a foul scent in the wind. I can’t pinpoint the root of the odor, but I do know it’s the same tainted stench that assaulted my senses when I spotted my father emerging from the woods two nights ago.

  Looking more tired than he did this morning, he circles the car and climbs into the driver’s seat beside me. As he slowly drums his fingers on the dashboard, a fine shiver moves through me and my hackles spike. My wolf begins pacing, howling to break free and run. Even though she doesn’t recognize the putrid scent clogging the cab of the vehicle, she doesn’t like it, doesn’t like that it makes her feel restless, edgy.

  Fearful.

  I’m glad for the distraction when the others begin to file out of the convenience store and walk toward us. When I catch Logan’s glance, Nova keeping pace beside him, he cocks his head to the side. His eyes are questioning, distrustful, worried beyond his young years when he sees my father sitting in the vehicle so close to me, which begs the question, what does Logan know about my father that I don’t?

  As I mull that concern over for a moment longer, and think about our private conversation outside the den the other night—when Logan assured me I’d soon learn about forgiveness—my mind races with questions, mainly, why aren’t we all past the point of keeping secrets?

  “We should go,” I say more to myself than anyone else, and while I want to question Logan, to determine if he’s keeping something from me, I know now is neither the time nor place, especially considering the way Nova continues to cling to him.

  With that we all pile back into the vehicle. By the time we reach our final destination and pull the SUV off the road to take a path into a remote area of the woods, the last ribbon of light fades from the sky.

  As darkness descends over the forest, we cut a bumpy path through the threadbare trees, and drive until the dirt road narrows in on us. Once the vehicle stops Nova slides the door open and I climb out behind her. I stand still for a long moment and listen to the night sounds. In the far distance, I hear the familiar echo of a cannon sounding its last blast of the night, frightening off any remaining birds from a local vineyard. A trickle of unease shivers through my bloodstream.

  We’re close, I realize. Far too close to my former prison for comfort, which once again has me wondering why the name Lewis Lake strikes me as familiar.

  I wrack my brain and search the recesses of my mind but my thoughts shift when my glance lands on Sandy. I feel a moment of worry for her and can’t help but wish the young girl was better insulated from all this danger. Since she’s carrying a child, she should have been taken to safety before this mission, but I do know that she’s right. She has lost as much as I have in this senseless fight, maybe even more so, and needs to be a part of the battle to end the war on wolves every bit as much as I do.

  I take a moment to compose myself. Then, in my quest for information, I step over a fallen tree and pull the scents of the forest into my lungs. Moving deeper into the dark woods, I can feel the sky-scraping trees closing in on me from all angles, the canopy of leaves making it that much more challenging to search for signs of danger.

  With my pack at my back assessing the situation, I continue forward. Dry autumn leaves, crisp and colored from the changing season, crun
ch beneath the soles of my oversized boots.

  Animals scurry about, weaving their way around the trees, and birds take flight as we intrude upon their domain. With the instinctive knowledge that we could be walking head first into danger, I still for a moment, every nerve in my body on high alert.

  Even though my wolf is fearless, eager to right wrongs, she knows better than to jump into any situation without a plan of attack. But since I don’t know what we’re going to find out here in the middle of nowhere, I’m unable to detail an outline, unable to strategize the best course of action.

  Needing to know what we’re up against, what sort of monsters will emerge from the deadly darkness encroaching upon us, I hunker low and rub dry leaves between my hands, my wolf feeding off the aroma of the forest.

  I scan the area and search the ground for tracks, a hunting trick Logan taught me while we chased game in Olympic Park. Squishing the leaves in my hand until they crumble, I bring them to my and inhale. I let the various scents seep into my bloodstream, and when I catch a distinctive smell, one that warns of death and danger, I jackknife to my feet and let loose a low, distressed howl.

  “What is it?” Stone asks, his eyes piercing the darkness around us as he steps up to me. His gaze searches mine and I can feel him trying to read my thoughts. “Panther?”

  I shake my head and brush the decaying leaves from my hands. As they fall to the ground in a shimmer of color, I answer with, “No, but a female wolf has been through here recently, and she’s frightened.”

  Stone scents the woods and spins around in a circle to commit our current location to memory. His voice is calm but I don’t miss the underlying urgency when he says, “We need to move. Fast.”

  I nod in agreement and with that he gestures for the others to follow. Using hurried footsteps, I fall in behind him and while he takes the lead on this trek, Logan stays at the back of the pack, keeping every one of us in his sight at all times.

  Our feet fall mutely as we track deeper into the woods, until the sounds of the highway, the ocean, and all forms of human life are left far behind.

  My skin begins to itch, burning in warning, and I resist the urge to claw at my flesh as I continue to scan the forest. I angle my head to the side, sorting, searching, listening for signs of danger.

  I take another step, but when Stone stops abruptly, I crash into him. My nose smashes into his hard back and I let loose an undignified oomph as my legs falter.

  He spins on the balls of his feet, and in a movement so fast it catches me by surprise, he curls protective arms around my waist and pulls me against him. His familiar scent drowns out the smells of the forest around me, and practically steals the breath from my lungs. I open my mouth to speak, but he presses a finger to my lips to silence me.

  “Sorry,” he whispers into my thoughts, as the rough pad of his thumb scrapes across my bottom lip. His touch, warm and deliberately intimate, sends sensations rippling through me. A flurry of emotions passes over his face, and everything in the hungry way he’s looking at me, purposely dragging his thumb over my mouth in a slow agonizing caress, confuses my wolf and tortures my soul. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I’m…I’m okay,” I say, but he doesn’t make a move to let me go. Instead, his nostrils flare and heavy lashes briefly fall over his dark eyes as he sends me a look, one that promises so much. We stay like that a moment longer, my body completely immobile as he keeps me anchored to his.

  Somewhere in the near distance, a twig snaps, the sharp sound piercing the quiet and dragging me back to reality.

  “What is it, Stone?” I finally ask breaking the moment between us. I look past his shoulders, trying to see what spooked him as hurried footsteps herald the approach of the others.

  Logan moves close and fixes Stone with a dangerous look, but the alpha with his arms circled around my body still seems reluctant to break his hold. Stone glares back, but when I push on his arms, he uncoils them from around my waist. After I extricate myself from his grip, my father steps up beside us all and when he gestures to a spot behind Stone, I use that time to pull myself together.

  “What’s going on?” Logan asks between clenched teeth, tension crackling in the air.

  Stone aims his finger, and using our exceptional night vision, we all look in the direction he’s pointing. Collective gasps can be heard when we glimpse an old cabin camouflaged beneath a cluster of weeping trees. Tucked far off the beaten path, the place is invisible to the road, the sky, or even hikers. And for some reason that has the hairs on my nape tingling.

  As I stare at it, and recall the scent saturating the fallen leaves, my mind takes me in a bleak direction, one that has me realizing how a wolf’s tortured screams would go unanswered way out here in the middle of nowhere.

  That dark, disturbing thought has a shiver moving through me and I don’t miss the strange tingling in my bloodstream. I will the image from my head but there is nothing I can do to stop the tremble running along my spine.

  As if sensing my distress Logan steps close, his stance protective, and his eyes are full of genuine concern as his body hovers over mine.

  “What is it, Pride?” he asked, his comforting heat wrapping around me like a tight glove.

  “I don’t know.” My hackles spike and I shoot Logan a weary glance. “Something isn’t right.”

  Logan places his hand on the small of my back, but I quickly sever the intimacy, unable to take comfort in his affectionate contact because I need my wolf sharp, focused fully on this mission and not on how nice it is to be touched by him.

  Logan’s voice is a coarse rasp when he says, “Maybe we should go back.”

  Wind hums around me and the fine hairs tracking along my spine stand on edge, but my wolf isn’t about to turn back now, isn’t about to surrender even if I want to.

  Which I don’t.

  I’m driven by a need to find the pack of wolves who once stood behind me, a pack that could very well be dead because they fearlessly crawled into my personal hell without fully understanding the consequences.

  With that last thought urging me on, I take a few more steps and brace my hands on a decaying log as I carefully climb over it. Insects scurry about beneath my palms, and the pungent scent of wet moss reaches up to greet my nostrils as I glance up to see Stone inching forward. He looks back to check on me and the darkening of his eyes as he scans for hidden enemies and possible threats makes me strangely uneasy.

  Nova moves in beside me, her breath coming in hurried gulps as she whispers, “Do you think Malcolm and the others are inside?”

  I watch her for a minute and don’t miss the urgency in her eyes. Her blood is pounding hard, rushing faster than a wolf on the prowl, and I wonder what’s elevating her heartbeat—anticipation? Or fear?

  “There is only one way to find out,” I answer.

  “You’re going in?” she asks, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching inquisitively.

  I’m about to answer, but Stone waves us forward and we all push past the low hanging branches and step up to the pitch black cabin. I sniff the air, and when a breeze washes over my face, the deadly stench of sulphur and silver thickens my throat.

  “PTF,” Logan says coming up beside me. Pewter punctures the blue in his eyes as he scans the tree line. “They’re nearby.” He sweeps his hands through his hair to push it off his face and says, “It’s not safe here, Pride.”

  My heart begins to beat faster because I know we can’t run away. Not yet. Not without first checking to see if Malcolm and the others are caged inside. Besides, even if I’m suddenly feeling ill prepared, isn’t facing the PTF part of my pursuit? I just wish I was facing them on my grounds, and not theirs.

  I stalk closer to the cabin and try to scent the inside. When my efforts prove futile, I turn to Logan. “Do you—?” I begin to ask.

  “I can’t tell. The place is locked up tight.”

  I go up on my tip toes to peek inside. It’s dark, and I can’t detect any movement, b
ut that doesn’t mean it’s empty.

  When my wolf growls, Logan moves closer, his body caging me between the cabin and his chest. “What do you see?” he whispers.

  “Nothing, and that’s the problem. I have to get inside.”

  “Pride—” he begins.

  Just then Nova comes up from behind, looking windblown and nervous, her eyes wide, and her blood is rushing so fast I fear her heart is about to explode.

  “I found a small window around back. It’s open,” she hurries out and there is an intensity about her that makes my feral wolf want to crawl out of my throat and snap at her. Her glance fixes on me. “It’s tiny. Only big enough for you to fit through, Pride.”

  I narrow my eyes and peer at her. “Did you see anything inside?”

  “It looks like a small bedroom, and it’s empty.”

  “Okay,” I say, and work to strategize my next move, but when Stone joins us and his anger hovers like a dark rain cloud, it pulls my focus.

  Wild eyes lock on mine, and an untamed sound gurgles in the back of his throat before he says, “You’re not going through it, Pride. I’ll break down the door first before I let you go in there alone.”

  My pulse thrums harder in my throat and I fight to steady it. “You can’t,” I whisper, then draw a fueling breath, pulling the scent of the deadly hunters into my lungs as I look at the shifters surrounding me. They’re homeless because of me and I know I can’t let them down. “The noise will draw the attention of the PTF and I don’t want to face them until I free the others.”

  “What if it’s a trap?” Stone points out, pitching his voice low to match mine.

  “What if it’s not,” I counter, intent on finding out who or what’s inside, and if I don’t find the others, I at least hope to find information leading to them. “The PTF aren’t aware that we know about this place.” As I address his worries, I can’t help but think about Nova and the darkness I feel in her. But the truth is we’ve come too far to back down now.

  My glance lands on my father, and I find him standing guard over Gem and Sandy. His face is tight, his body on high alert, but there is a new weariness about him, one I’ve never seen before. I’m intelligent enough to know there is something going on with him. While I feel it in every fiber of my being, I know now is not the time for questions. Now is the time for action.