“I told you. Jay sent me.”
“He wouldn’t do that. He’d come himself.”
“He couldn’t. He sent me to say he was sorry.”
Over Marty’s shoulder, Chris saw a woman appear in the doorway. The woman—Rebecca Cairns, it had to be—came to the edge of the porch.
“Sorry for what?” Rebecca asked.
Marty frowned disapprovingly at his girlfriend, but echoed the question. “Sorry for what?”
Chris looked around at the woods. They were vulnerable standing out in the open. “Look, it’s a long story. Can we go inside and talk?”
“If you give me the rifle we can.”
She handed it over.
Marty seemed surprised at her easy acceptance of his demand, but then waved her toward the door. “Inside… we have coffee if you want it.”
She nodded, and entered the dimly lit cabin.
The one-room cabin was exactly as Geoffrey described it. It had one door, and a couple of windows still shuttered from the night before. Opposite the door were stairs leading to the loft where she assumed Marty and Rebecca had been spending their nights. There was an iron stove in one corner of the room radiating heat and the smell of the promised coffee. In the centre was a roughly made wooden table with benches on each side. The lamp on the table was unlit; the only light came through the open door.
Chris changed her eyes, and the room brightened as colours bled away.
“Sit,” Marty ordered, not quite pointing the rifle at her. “Becky, get the coffee.”
Rebecca grumbled but moved obediently toward the stove.
Marty sat opposite Chris with the rifle on the table between them. She carefully moved the barrel aside with one finger so that it no longer pointed directly at her. Marty let her do it, but kept his finger near the trigger.
“So talk,” Marty said.
“I know about Ryder.”
“So you know. So what?”
She shrugged. “So I know he’s after you. Look, I’ve had trouble with Ryder myself. You might say he made me the woman I am today. I went after him to settle things, and found him torturing Jay for information.”
Rebecca returned with three coffees and sat next to Marty. “How is he?”
“Dead.”
Rebecca’s eyes darkened.
Marty was more practical. “Jay wouldn’t talk.”
“He talked. He didn’t have a choice after Ryder got done with him. Jay could barely speak when I found him. He told me to tell you he was sorry.”
“Goddess comfort him,” Rebecca murmured with tears in her eyes. “What are we going to do?”
“Leave here, and go someplace else,” Marty said, pushing to his feet.
Chris slapped a hand on the rifle. “No! Ryder is already here. When I left town he was an hour behind me. You can’t run forever.”
“The hell we can’t!”
“He’ll hunt you both down.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
She hissed in frustration. “I have some stuff with me to even the odds. Let me handle Ryder. If I fail, at least I’ll have softened him up for you.”
Marty shook his head. “I dunno…”
“Let her,” Rebecca pleaded, “let her, Marty. I can’t live like this. I’m so scared all the time I can hardly think anymore. Trust the Goddess to save us, Marty. Let Ryder come.”
“Nice sentiments,” Chris said scornfully, “but I’ll trust my rifle, thanks.”
“You’re not a believer?”
“I believe in the Lord and Lady, but if good people refuse to fight evil, it will lead them into the hells regardless.”
Marty sighed and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe he was considering staying. “Ryder isn’t evil, he’s insane.”
“Aren’t we all?” Chris muttered.
“I don’t mean shifter craziness, that’s just our nature. I mean really insane. He has bats in his belfry.”
She remembered Ryder’s insane laughter the night of her attack and shivered. “Whatever. When he gets here, I’m going to put him out of my misery.”
“And if you don’t?”
She shrugged. “If he kills me, I won’t make it easy for him. I’ll leave him easy meat for you, I promise.”
Marty looked sideways at Rebecca and she nodded. He sighed and pushed the rifle at Chris. “Okay. Where do you want me?”
She took her rifle back and flicked the safety back on. “I want you and your machete upstairs protecting Rebecca.”
“Good, ’coz you’ll have to shoot us to get us in the cellar.”
She nodded and rummaged in her bag. “I have four of these for the roof. I want them positioned so that Ryder can’t make a move without me seeing him.”
Marty picked up one of the remotes. “I’ll take care of it. What will you be doing?”
She held up a couple of spheres about the size of a silver dollar. “I’m going to spread some of these around the woods. I won’t be long.”
When Chris returned to the cabin, she found Marty sitting on the bottom stair waiting for her. There was no sign of Rebecca. Chris retrieved the last remaining piece of kit in her bag—a Techtron NX12000S audiovisual headset. She activated it, and put it on. It had been a while since she had worn any kind of headset, and military gear was very different to her old crime scene kit. Her old headset recorded audiovisual impressions of what she saw around her, but this one displayed what the remotes on the roof saw. It could also give warning if the perimeter sensors she had seeded around the grounds detected a breach. The headset’s display covered her left eye, while her right viewed the cabin unhindered. Soldiers were trained to deal with the data input, but she found it disorientating. To help with that, she sat on the table facing the open door with her rifle, and closed her right eye.
“How long have you been a shifter?” Marty said, watching the door.
She kept her attention focused on what she received from the remotes, and didn’t turn to look at him. “Six weeks, I think.”
“You don’t feel that new. You’re strong.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“No pack?”
“Not yet, maybe never.”
Marty grunted. “You’ve still got a lot to learn if you believe that. Someone so strong should lead a pack. It’s what an alpha is meant to do. Some say it’s what they’re for, and why they’re so strong.”
She snorted. “I’m not looking for a pack. I’m single and mean to stay that way.”
“Never happen. We can’t live alone. You’ll see.”
I told you that.
I know you did.
So did Flint, remember—in your house with Barrows?
I remember.
Well?
Well, we have Lawrence and Farris.
Do we?
Don’t we?
He didn’t ask us to be his mate.
So far the sensors on the perimeter were reporting back green. They were basic devices with only two states: red and green. When they sensed something passing between them, they would go red on her display. She hadn’t asked for something with more abilities because there were too many variables to cover. Ryder could approach on foot in Human form, or he might choose wolf form. He could choose something in between that might fool a more intelligent sensor designed to protect humans against other humans. Ryder could change as much as he wanted, but he would not fool her sensors.
“How’s Rebecca?” she asked.
“Scared, but she’s holding up. I don’t want you thinking she’s weak or stupid. She’s not. She knows what could happen here.”
“I don’t think she’s stupid for trusting in the Lady. She’s just naïve.”
“You’re wrong, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my mate.”
She shook her head. Marty had undermined himself by protesting that way. “I thought she was your girlfriend.”
“Who told you that?”
“Ben Kirkwood.”
“Oh. I h
aven’t seen Ben in over a year. Not since Jay joined us. He probably didn’t hear the news because Jay left home about then.”
“That might be…”
A sensor turned red.
“Chris?”
She raised a hand. Another sensor turned red. “He’s here. Go upstairs and keep out of sight. Go!”
She watched as her sensors reported a breach in the perimeter. A red road began heading straight toward the cabin on her display. She watched intently for the first sighting, and suddenly, there he was. The remotes on the roof stopped cycling their output to her headset. Sector Two zoomed in and locked onto Ryder. He was standing on the edge of the woods watching the cabin. He was in Human form and unarmed. Not that he needed a weapon to kill her, but she was pleased just the same. She watched him watching the cabin, and stroked her rifle.
Ryder stepped out of the woods and ran for the porch. Chris ripped off the headset, tossed it into the corner, and trained her rifle on the open door. The moment he stepped into view, she fired. The magazine ran dry in less than four seconds. She let it fall to the floor, replaced it with a full one, and emptied it into the doorway. The second magazine ran dry, and she waited for some sign that her hunt was over. A creaking behind her broke the silence. She spun in place, the rifle already levelled, but it was only Marty and Rebecca at the top of the stairs watching her. She waved them back into hiding and quickly reloaded.
She approached the doorway warily and stopped. She stared at the empty decking of the porch, and her knuckles whitened as she firmed her grip on the rifle. She ducked her head out the door for a quick look, but there was no sign of Ryder. Her palms were sweaty; she dried them one at a time on her pants, and then stepped outside. There was blood splatter on the decking. She sniffed the air, turning slowly, and the smell of blood grew stronger. She edged along the porch keeping her back to the wall, and found a blood trail, but to her dismay, it stopped after a dozen feet. The woods beckoned beyond the end of the porch. She didn’t want to go out there, but she had to. Ryder was injured. Now was the time to take him down. Wait too long and he might heal before she found him.
She backed down the steps with her rifle aimed at the porch roof. It was the perfect place for Ryder to get the drop on her, but she descended the steps without incident. He wasn’t up there. She turned on the spot looking for something to indicate where Ryder was hiding.
“He ran off,” she said. Her heart sank when she realised it might be true.
You don’t know that.
“He’s heading back to town.”
You. Don’t. Know!
She felt like screaming in frustration.
Ryder’s quiet laughter made her drop to one knee and trigger a burst into the trees. Her heart hammered in her chest and a trickle of sweat made its slow way down from her temple.
I don’t think he ran away.
“I guess not.”
A twig snapped, and she turned that way. Her discipline held this time, and she didn’t waste ammunition by firing without a target. She had less than sixty rounds left to end this and only a third of them were silver. Not enough. Not near enough now that Ryder had time to heal up. She had to go in after him before he was back to full strength.
That’s what he wants.
“What else can I do?”
Make him come to us.
“How?”
Smoke had no answer for her and Chris had to make a decision. She stood and carefully approached the tree line. Her eyes penetrated the gloom easily. There was no sign of Ryder, but she did scent his blood. She smiled grimly and stepped fully into the forest. She crouched scanning the trees and undergrowth. Her nose picked up the smell of rotting vegetation, damp earth, crushed soil where someone had passed recently, and fresh blood again. She turned to follow the trail.
“You didn’t take my advice, Chris.”
She froze. He was close, too damn close!
“You shouldn’t have come. I didn’t want this. The Lady as my witness, I didn’t want this for you.”
“Then you shouldn’t have infected me!” she shouted angrily.
She put her back against a towering tree and listened carefully for movement. A breeze ruffled the leaves in her tree and Ryder moved. She didn’t see him, but she felt him. She swung on target—he had been approaching her back—and fired a long burst. He went down, but rolled behind a tree before she could finish him. She ran straight toward where she had last seen him, but he was gone again. This time the trail he had left was obvious. Directly away from the cabin.
She pursued.
Don’t rush to follow.
She kept running. “Why?”
That’s what he wants.
Why would he want… her steps faltered. He was leading her away from the cabin and those it protected. She turned to go back, and Ryder appeared about a hundred yards ahead of her. She fired, missed, fired again. He was gone in the blink of an eye. Lady he was fast!
“To your left!” Ryder yelled.
She dropped flat and turned that way. She saw nothing at first, heard nothing but his mad laughter, then he stepped out from behind a tree and she fired. As quick as he had appeared, he was gone.
“Flint would have killed me by now. She never really liked me you know.”
She peered into the undergrowth, trying to find him. “I don’t like you either. Are you saying you know Flint from somewhere?”
Ryder laughed. “You still don’t know what this is all about, do you? Flint always was good at keeping secrets, but I would have thought you would have dragged the story out of her by now.”
“I don’t like guessing games. You have something to say, say it straight.”
“I have a present for you.”
The muscles at her jaw bulged as she gritted her teeth. “You have nothing I want.”
“Don’t be too sure.”
“All I want is you dead.”
“I understand, but you’ll want this. I promise.”
She gasped and rolled to look the other way. His voice had come from behind her this time. How had he moved without her sensing it? She peered into the trees and thought she saw something on the ground. She licked her lips and got back to her feet to investigate. She crept through the forest and knelt beside the object. It was a wallet propped upright against a pile of leaves. Crouching beside it, she checked for signs of Ryder before picking it up and opening it.
She stared. “No…”
The wallet contained Ryder’s identification—his driving license and FBI identification. She stared at it, unable to believe what it meant. Flint had screwed her over. She shook her head, staring numbly at that impossible badge. She remembered speculating about what Ryder had been holding that day in DD’s cubicle. Well, they had been wrong. He hadn’t stolen a cop’s I.D to get his hands on the master key it contained. He had used his own. Flint had known who Ryder was. She must have known. That was why she had volunteered to handle the background checks and the profiling. Why had Flint really been assigned to the Shifter Slayings? Was it to help find Ryder, or was it to hide Ryder’s true identity?
Does it matter now?
She knew things about him, things that might have helped me find him before…
Before he attacked and I joined you. Do you hate me?
You know I don’t.
Then it doesn’t matter. Don’t let it distract you.
Smoke was right. What did it matter now why Ryder did what he did, or why Flint did what she did? All that mattered was living with the consequences.
“Right, you’re right.” She shoved the wallet into her pocket and looked warily around. “I don’t care what you were! It’s now that matters!”
Silence greeted her shout.
“Did you hear me you sonofabitch?” she shouted again.
He’s gone.
Realisation dawned. “He’s gone after Marty!”
I would if I were he.
Chris was already running back to the cabin. The clearing appeared b
efore her and she orientated herself toward the cabin. There was no sign of Ryder, but she could hear the sounds of a fight. She sprinted across the open ground and into the cabin without slowing. She caught a glimpse of Ryder at the top of the stairs grappling with Rebecca. Chris stopped, raised the rifle, and fired.
Click!
She was out of ammo! She dropped the useless thing and dashed up the stairs just as Ryder threw Rebecca down them. They collided and tumbled back down. There was a crunch and Rebecca wailed like a child. Chris had no time to help the girl; she could hear the fight continuing upstairs. She shoved Rebecca off, and clambered up the stairs.
Ryder and Marty were in the bedroom. Ryder had changed into his wolf-man form, and the sight shocked her into stillness for a moment. Her nightmares surged to the forefront of her thoughts, but Marty’s shrieks brought her back to the here and now.
He wasn’t alpha. He only had two forms—Human and wolf with nothing in between. Worse than that, it meant he couldn’t heal himself as quickly. Ryder’s claws had already torn Marty to shreds. Blood covered his hands and arms where he had attempted to protect himself.
Chris changed her hands and attacked Ryder from behind. She buried the claws of one hand in his back and tried to reach around him with the other, hoping to pull him off Marty. He roared in surprise, rearing back in pain and Marty slumped to the floor out of the fight.
Ryder turned, dragging her claws out of his back. “We warned you to stay out of this.”
Before she could respond, he slapped her with his claws extended. A fiery pain exploded in her face and she flew across the room. She slammed into the wall, and slid down it, stunned.
Ryder turned back to deal with Marty.
Chris fumbled at her face, shocked to find her jaw broken and her cheek hanging in bloody strips. If he had hit her a little harder, he would have broken her neck. She wasn’t sure if she could heal something like that.
Let me out! Let me kill him for you.
She started to agree but caught sight of something that gave her hope. Marty’s machete lay upon the floor pushed partway under the bed. She lunged and grabbed it. It glinted in the light, wickedly sharp.
If this doesn’t work, you can have him. I promise.
Ryder was intent on what he was doing. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought Marty might already be dead. Ryder continued his ministrations regardless. He was slamming his fists into Marty over and over, snarling abuse at him with every strike as if unaware that Marty couldn’t hear him.
Shifter Legacies Special Edition: Books 1-2 Page 87