by Nancy Gideon
With MacCreedy’s hand tight about his and the pressure points of his fingers at his wet brow, Cale fought his way over the pain, crying, “Katy, where are you? I need to know now. Where are you, baby? Help me find you!”
Images flooded his mind, strangely textured and bizarre. Steel tracks twisted and tortured into loops. Seats hanging from long chains. That creepy bug-eyed sponge cartoon character. A huge clown’s head lying half smashed on its side. The stench of mold and rot clutched at his stomach in great heaving pulses. He could sense Silas near him, his energy strong, carrying him. And then his voice, a shock-like tingle in his head.
“I know where she is.”
The connection broke. Cale went limp on the table as Silas made the call.
“Six Flags, the abandoned amusement park. Hurry.”
Nica’s hand cooled his brow, her dark blue eyes gentle as she bent near. “It’s all right, Cale. They’ll find her. Rest.”
“Time,” O’Leary called from the doorway. His expression tightened with regret when he saw the grave condition of their fighter. “Can he make it?”
“Yes.” Cale’s insistence surprised them. He pushed up into a sitting position. “I’ll be there.”
When O’Leary hurried to relay that news, Nica shook her head. “Don’t do this, Cale. You can’t defend yourself. He’ll kill you.”
A crooked smile. “Wasn’t that the plan all along? I have to. Until I hear they’re safe. Help me stand up.”
Nica had bound the savaged muscle and tissue as tightly as she could, but the instant he tried to put weight on it, huge, swooning waves of pain nearly overwhelmed him. He couldn’t afford weakness. Not now.
He reached a shaking hand into his jacket pocket, withdrawing a crumpled plastic bag. Holding it close to his nose, he opened it and inhaled deeply over sharp protest from his ribs, letting the fresh scent of pine flood through him perhaps for the last time to remind him of who he was and where he’d come from. And who he fought for.
“Mr. Terriot, where’s your cocky attitude now?” Lee drawled, entering their tent and motioning one of his men forward to lock the silver collar about his neck.
“Saving it for the crowd,” Cale assured him with a faint smile, tucking the reminder of home away to boldly face what would follow.
“A moment alone, if you please.” Lee waved the others out and Cale nodded to the reluctant MacCreedys. When they’d gone, Casper moved up close, his gaze helplessly admiring. “You have a magnificent spirit. How I would have enjoyed taming it.”
Cale held himself still as Lee’s touch stroked his cheek. He couldn’t afford the energy to resist as he stated, “You’ll let them go unharmed.”
“I’ve given you my word.”
“Does it mean anything?”
Lee rubbed his good thumb along Cale’s mouth. “She’ll be safe.” He turned reluctantly, knowing this would be the last time they spoke, and moved to the door. Pausing there to look back over his shoulder, he smiled. “James should have her about now. Good bye, Cale.”
“You fucker!”
Cale took a careless step forward, halted by the torment jolting up his leg. Silas rushed in, catching him as he relayed breathlessly, “He’s given them to James. Warn the others.”
Cale straightened, pushing that scent of pine above those of sweat and pain and sweet cologne to walk under his own power to face the final round.
*
The sound of cheering onlookers, even the threatening howl from the great deadly beast T-Ray Roux had become, faded as Cale limped to the center of the blood splotched pool. There, he waited, a small, broken figure, as Roux charged.
Calmly, he took a breath and slowed the world around him the way Savoie had taught him. He gauged Roux’s approach, seeing his maddened eyes fill with fury, foam fly from his open jaws. And just as the air coming toward him gave a slight push, Cale pivoted on his sound leg, providing just enough room for the fully transformed Shifter to churn by in slow motion. He scooped low with hooked fingers, claws ripping across vulnerable belly.
Roux staggered to a stop, staring down at the welling gashes in surprise. With a roar, he rounded on the injured Cale, and again, somehow, just managed to miss him as an elbow dropped down hard on the back of his neck. He plowed along the blue-tinted cement, leaving a streak of red.
And then, through pain-dazed eyes, Cale saw Silas at the edge of the pool, giving him a thumbs up.
When T-Ray came at him a third time, Cale swung up on his back, hooked his arm about the thick neck and hung on, good leg wrapping his torso as he set a head lock. Snarling, snapping, swiping his massive paws, Roux tried to pull his adversary off, but he clung like a tick, determined to shut off the blood flow to the beast’s brain. Roux stumbled, circled, shook his huge shoulders, but Cale held on, still applying pressure.
His collar came alive with zinging shocks followed by those stabbing silver barbs. Cale refused to acknowledge that torment.
T-Ray went to one knee, hands swatting at the burr on his back, claws striping Cale’s shoulders and arms. He held on and applied more pressure until the animal beneath him began to weave and choke and finally, mightily fall.
Astride his broad back, Cale didn’t loosen his hold until the jerking figure stilled. Gasping, nearly swooning with pain, he leaned in close to wait for the sound of faint breaths. Patting the shaggy head, he sat back, reeling, gaze searching the blurry group gathered around the edge of the pool to cheer his victory. He saw Carmen Blutafino doing some howling of his own over his huge win.
His attention caught on Casper Lee. Their stares met, held. Lee unfurled a contemptuous smile, lifting his phone to make that fateful call.
No!
Cale pulled all his concentrated energy together the way he’d pack a snowball and let it fly.
Lee blinked. A trickle of blood started from his nose, dotting his white suit like falling rose petals. And he dropped. Silas bent over him, feeling for a pulse, shaking his head as he pocketed the other’s phone.
Cale cared nothing for the sound of his name touted in shouts of victory. Once he was hoisted from the pool, he pushed through those who sought to congratulate him, brushing off their hands, ignoring their praise, because none of it mattered.
When Blutafino gripped his arm and waved an impressive fan of cash under his nose, Cale motioned to the unconscious figure on the floor of the pool.
“Give it to him. Make sure he’s all right.”
Limping, dragging his nearly useless leg, he went to Nica, letting her hold him up while she used the key she’d gotten from O’Leary to release him from the collar. When Silas approached, Cale had one thing to say.
“Gimme my jacket back.”
Silas wrapped it about his shoulders with a grin, saying, “I’ll drive.”
*
Why were the cruel and mighty always so stunned when the small and meek rose up against them? Even a mouse had teeth. Even a rabbit, claws.
Dehydrated, exhausted, terrified for her sister-in-law and her unborn child, Kendra quietly searched for a way for them to help themselves in case rescue didn’t arrive in time.
She’d used her bathroom visit to search for anything that could be of possible help to them. Pawing through the trash can, she salvaging a pink disposable razor, sanitizing it as best she could with the hot water and pump soap before tucking it inside her shoe. An empty makeup compact with a mirror went under the arch of her foot in the other. She stripped the bows off a pair of sunglasses that had lost a lens, resting them behind her ears with her hair arranged to cover them. Not much to work with, but enough to empower her.
The immediate need was to get her hands free. While the van cruised along the highway, she worked at the razor, breaking away the plastic guard so she could slice at the tough cords binding her wrists. Wincing as the blade nicked her fingers countless times. The ties finally gave, loosening enough to insure she could wiggle free of the restraints. She motioned Tina to scoot close so she could scratch away at h
er bonds, too. She passed Tina one of the bows and the compact, squeezing her hand. Then they waited in silence for an opportunity.
Her last contact with Cale left impressions of terrible, paralyzing pain constricting his fierce devotion. She couldn’t let herself think of him, to worry about what he might be facing. Their perilous situation consumed all her energy.
The change in road pattern alerted her. They’d left the highway, their ride becoming rough and jarring. A pause, with the vehicle idling, then a forward creep, going slowly over treacherous bumps. Then they stopped. She alerted Tina with a nod toward the door, crouching, bow concealed in her hand.
Three male voices from the front, two of them moving along the side of the van. Kendra tensed, waiting. Doors opened right into the setting sun. The glare blinded until two large figures stepped in to block the light. One of them grinned wide, his eyes dark with foul intentions.
“Time for some fun, ladies.”
“I thought your friend with the funny hair said not to touch us,” Kendra challenged.
“He don’t care now. He’s too busy butchering your mate.”
A sudden burst of protective fury overcame Kendra’s fear. She motioned Tina back, so as she edged forward, holding the hungry stare of the speaker, the other male started to climb up inside the van to go after her.
With a swift strike, Kendra stabbed the metal bow in and out of the climber’s calf. At the sound of his howl, she launched herself at the one with the fading grin, driving her makeshift blade into his throat, riding him down to the ground.
The one in the van tumbled out, clutching his ripped cheek. Tina, bloody bow in hand, leapt over him to freedom.
“Run!” Kendra cried. Attempting to follow, her foot was seized by her would-be attacker. She never hesitated, going for his eye with the bow, snarling, “That was fun,” when he released her with a dying cry.
She didn’t see which way Tina went so she sought the closest cover, scrambling madly across littered and broken asphalt to find shelter behind an abandoned booth. Behind her, she could hear the van’s front door slamming. Though it seemed an eternity, their escape had only taken seconds.
Where were they?
Crouched against the disappearing sun, the decayed surroundings took on eerie silhouettes. Bare remains of rollercoaster tracks rose like dinosaur skeletons. Bumper cars lay scattered, discarded toys. False-fronted buildings stood scarred by graffiti tags. She darted behind the ticket and prize booth shells, sinking low, sending out a frantic message along the channel Cale opened between them. Too rushed for words, she sent images of what she saw, hoping they’d provide a clue for him to find her. She had to get to Tina, stay hidden, and wait.
The sound of more vehicles arriving brought momentary hope, until she risked a look to see almost a dozen new arrivals talking with the animated driver.
And then a loud call in an unforgettable voice.
“You might as well come out. I’ll see you’re unharmed.”
James. Fat chance!
“Find the bitches” he shouted, “and bring them to me.”
Kendra burrowed in to wait them out, trying to reach Cale, needing to feel him close. But all she got were shocking flashes of agony so raw and piercing, she trembled helplessly in despair. They were hurting him, killing him! Cale!
She must have made some involuntary sound. It didn’t go unnoticed.
*
From where she huddled in the shell of a playground tunnel, Tina cautiously held out the mirror, using the small reflecting circle to watch one of the men turn toward Kendra’s hiding place. As he drew closer, Tina’s love for her new friend warred with her own self-preserving fear. Thoughts flashed back to the previous morning when Susanna confirmed Kendra’s pregnancy. They’d hugged, squealing with excitement. Just like sisters.
Taking a deep breath, she darted from cover and ran, purposefully drawing the stalker’s attention with the sound of her scrambling feet over broken stones. She could hear him in pursuit and knew her weak legs couldn’t out distance him.
Run, Kendra! Save yourself!
An abrupt roaring sound swept down on her. Before she could react, a strong arm locked about her waist, snatching her off her feet. She got a glimpse of the strong white teeth and devastating dimples of Rico Terriot before he swung her up behind him on his big motorcycle, carrying her away from danger to where her husband waited.
Alain grabbed her off the bike, letting Rico spin back toward danger. His familiar arms crushed her tight against the churning thunder of his heartbeats.
“Thank God you’re safe,” he gasped breathlessly against her hair. “Are you all right?”
She levered back slightly to look up into his face, seeing his fright, his worry. His love.
“I am now.”
*
Gravel spit in Kendra’s face as a hand extended down.
“Come on!”
She grabbed his wrist and let Kip swing her behind him on his bike, hanging on tight as he goosed the machine into a hop and flat out race across the park.
They hadn’t gotten far when she felt his body jerk and saw blood blossom across his jacket’s shoulder. The cycle wobbled as Kip slumped forward, braking desperately to slow them before the bike slid into a tangle of rusted chain netting.
“Go,” he groaned, consciousness slipping from him.
If Kip was here, could his brothers be far away? Desperate to find them, she ran, breaths sobbing from her. Not to hide, but in search of help.
Roaring ferociously, Rico was hard to miss as he grappled with three of James’ men in the center of the Midway. Giving far worse than he got, he was still too busy to provide any assistance, so Kendra raced on.
She rounded a fence and smacked abruptly into a solid wall wearing a very nice Dolce suit.
“My queen,” James purred as his hands cuffed her arms. “You’ve become a considerable pain in my ass.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Gun in hand, Silas knelt beside the body at the rear of the van. “Looks like we’re in the right place.” He glanced back at Cale and frowned. “I don’t suppose you’d just wait here?”
“I don’t suppose.” But Cale understood MacCreedy’s concern. He was a train wreck, bloody, lame, so weak he could hardly move. But he was here for his mate, and he wouldn’t be denied a part in her rescue.
He hobbled to where Silas now stood. Kendra and Tina’s scent was everywhere. He took in the blood inside the van’s open back end and clamped down tight on his panic. Resolutely, he took off his jacket.
“Hold that for me. It’s not yours.” He kicked out of his boots and started to strip off his pants.
“What the hell?”
“Hold these, too.”
“Are you insane?”
“No. If Savoie’s right, I’m about to be something else.”
He took a cleansing breath, closing his eyes, reaching for that inner power Max had described. He hadn’t had the chance to see it work. The power of change.
A sudden cramping pain took him down to hands and knees. He didn’t fight it, letting it surge through his body with a prickling heat. The strangeness of it soon swelled into a burst of incredible strength.
“Holy shit!”
He looked up at Silas’s stunned features through different eyes, through altered perception.
“Cale?”
No time to indulge MacCreedy’s curiosity. He surged forward, stumbling, awkward with this new ambulation, but quickly catching on. Putting his nose to the ground, he sucked in the trail he’d follow to the ends of the earth, into hell, itself. And he ran.
*
His hand at the back of her neck, James marched Kendra in front of him while his eyes scanned the surrounding area with a survivor’s cunning.
Damn them, that pack of unruly beasts always groveling at his brother’s heels. While he’d had some degree of fondness for Wesley, he’d never thought of his younger siblings as anything but threats to him getting what he deserved.
What he’d been promised. And here they were in his cast off kingdom, tearing it down atop his head, burning up his hopes, ruining his plans, scattering his dreams. Martine was dead. Sylvia captured. His allies fallen.
And it all began with this silly girl and his brother’s lust for her.
And it would end with her.
“Where are you taking me?”
Plucky girl. Even now, she managed to sound royally indignant.
“Out of our family’s reach until I decide how to use you.”
“Cale will—”
“Cale’s dead,” he told her bluntly.
She stumbled but quickly righted, her head held high. “You’re wrong. You’ve underestimated him. Again.”
James gave a harsh laugh. “I’ll admit he’s tougher than a cockroach under a boot heel, but I’m fairly certain we’ve seen the last of him.”
James hurried his now silent hostage along a barely passable trail toward the sleek Mercedes he’d parked away from the dangerous doings in the park. He gestured for the three who flanked him to hang back and pick off any who followed.
“If Cale’s no threat,” she challenged, “why do you need me?”
“Don’t underestimate your importance, my queen, especially now that you carry the Terriot heir. Congratulations, by the way. A shame my brother won’t be there to help raise it.”
They’d gone about twenty yards before he heard the first scream, then another, and a third, each shrill and quickly severed. Kendra’s steps began to lag. She tripped, slowing his rush toward safety and escape.
“Stop dragging your feet, or I’ll knock you out.”
Then the sound reached him. A low, rough, rumbling growl. Alarmed, James pulled his sharp-bladed knife, the same one that had found its way three times into his brother’s back. Brandishing it warily, he hooked an arm about Kendra’s neck and turned to place her between him and whatever pushed its way through the thicket behind them. The heavy brambles would have delayed the progress of someone in their basic beast form, but this pursuer moved quick, fast, and relentlessly.