A yelp echoed in the distance from vast forest below, meaning that either someone had taken a bite out of Decker or someone had gotten hurt. My ears wrapped around the sound of the paws that continued to pummel the earth.
I took a shortcut across the flat terrain and ended up farther from the action than I intended. It didn't matter. Once I found a spot, I whistled, my human form of howling, letting the others know my position. Decker would know, too, but it was a chance I had to take. Dane would take the small pack and lead our prey in my direction.
Please God, make the others follow his lead, or the wrong person would die tonight.
Another silent prayer went through my head as I lay down, setting my sights on an unmarked trail below me. The cold earth and tiny pebbles poked at my stomach. The smell of pine and musk scented the air. This was my element. The one I had truly missed in my eight month absence from the game. I cooled my anxiety and quieted my stampeding heart. Breaths of air brought the smell of loam to my nose. Relaxing, soothing breaths.
A growl registered behind me, breaking my concentration. Rolling onto on my back, I pulled the crossbow up to my shoulder and aimed just over my feet.
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Shit, Matt! You scared the hell out of me!” I thought about punching him, but I threw my arms around his neck instead.
As I took in his scent, a patch of sticky wetness caught my attention. I pulled away from him. A thick line of blood ran from his upper back down to his leg. Feeling my way around the wound, I ignored his scant whimpers. A deep wound matted his black fur.
"Did Decker stab you?” I asked.
Matt brought his muzzle up to my face, giving me one lick. That was his way of saying yes.
I clenched my teeth, but kept my composure. “Have you seen Scott? Is he okay?"
Matt didn't lick me this time. My teeth clenched tighter and my heart skipped. He could have meant that Scott was alive, too injured to move, or dead. Decker must have kept his man-beast form, turn Scott and my husband into targets, and finished changing form. That didn't make sense. Then again, nothing about Decker made sense.
I lowered my nose to his wound, taking in the scent. The smell of my husband's metallic blood and dankness from his sweat-covered fur overwhelmed my nostrils. Decker's fetid odor nestled between the hair shafts. Something else lingered in the scent, but I couldn't put a finger on it. I moved in closer, brushing the tip of my nose against his wound, but nothing came to mind.
A crying child snapped my concentration. I pushed Matt away and took up my position again. Rage poured through me, working through my joints, soaking me to the bone. As if kidnapping a child wasn't enough, the bastard took a shot at my husband and probably killed one of my friends. Decker would die tonight. Not tomorrow. Not the next day. Tonight.
"Matt,” I said in a low voice and not looking back. “I need you off this cliff. If I hit Decker and he drops Quentin, we can't let him get the baby again. You need to be down there to make sure."
He didn't move. A growl vibrated passed my shoulders.
He hadn't known about Quentin. Matt probably had issues with me being out here when I promised to stay at the den, but he would have to get over it. I was safe. Quentin wasn't. Perhaps he went through that same rationalization before turning and rushing away.
The stampede crunched the underbrush, closing the distance. I waited. The trampling grew louder, turning into herded paws pummeling the underbrush. Listening close, I'd put about seven or eight wolves running Decker down in my direction. Matt skulked on the trail below, so I slapped the ground in front of me, gaining his attention. I signaled in the direction of the pack. Matt turned and hid behind a dense copse.
Eight sets of glowing eyes peered out of the shadows, losing ground on the single glowing eye in front of them. Quentin's cries turned into whimpers. The white shirt under his overalls flapped in the breeze, but his body blocked the best target I could have had: Decker's heart. Shooting him in the head sounded good, but I wanted him to suffer the way Quentin had suffered.
He entered my firing range.
I steadied myself, taking aim at the same spot he had stabbed my husband, and fired. The arrow pierced its target. Decker yelped, twisting sideways in the air. He dropped Quentin in the dirt and stumbled over him. Matt jumped out of his hiding place, ramming his head into Decker's side. The two beasts rolled around in the dirt, snarling, serrated white teeth glistening against the crescent moon.
I got to my feet, keeping the crossbow aimed on the two of them. A narrow ledge rested about ten feet below. I pushed off. My feet slapped the rock ledge. Thunderous stabs of pain lit into my right foot. Bones ground together, fighting for position. The pain was excruciating, but I didn't have time for it.
A yelp brought my attention back to the brawl. Decker had a tuff of Matt's neck locked in his front teeth. Matt's jaw hooked around, about to tear Decker's ear off. I raised the crossbow and fired at my rabid prey. The arrow lodged itself in the side of Decker's neck. He let go of Matt just as the rest of the pack arrived. My husband began walking: an arch, turn, walk the same arch back, turn, and repeat. He circled a wounded Decker, waiting for the right moment of attack.
"No, Matt,” I shouted.
Stopping the liturgical dance, he turned and tilted his head.
"I want him to change back."
He stepped backwards, growling his warning, putting himself between Quentin and the monster that stood before us. Decker stood up on staggering legs before collapsing on his side, panting as though he awaited his demise. Muscles pulsed under his skin. All the wolves watched, growling their own threats, waiting for their chance to take a piece of him to the grave. Riley loped over next to Quentin, helping Matt guard the child from another angle, shielding him from what I knew would happen next.
I finished my descent from the cliff. By the time my broken foot touched the ground Decker had finished his change and lay on his side in human form.
He had wounds covering most of his body and bloody patches where skin was missing. His gouged out eye had sealed itself shut with a line of crusted blood separating the eyelids. Even if we left him alone, he would die. Too bad I wasn't feeling generous. With my crossbow raised, I limped over and faced him.
"All I ever wanted was you, Angel,” he rasped. He choked on a frothing trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. “We could have traded the kid for the contracts and left. Together. Why wouldn't you just come with me?” More blood sputtered and bubbled from his mouth.
"You wanted to be a werewolf,” I said, despising the putrid soul in front of me. “You were a wimp hiding behind a gun, now a jackass hiding behind fur. To you, I was nothing more than a consolation prize. I don't like being on same the level as a year's supply of laundry detergent."
"Did you get my gift?” He tilted his head in Matt's direction. “I hope you liked it. I spent days looking for that pregnant female you let go eight months ago. She's a crippled widow raising pups on her own. Such a harsh life.” His deep laughter reverberated into a cacophony of lunacy.
Keeping him lined up, I stepped closer. “When you suffered from the transmutation fever, I told Dane to call me if he wanted a bullet in your head. Well, I don't deal in bullets. I deal in arrows."
I pulled the trigger between his eyes. The arrow made a sickening crunch through his skull, tip sticking out the back. No last minute spasms or wind leaving his lungs; he simply died, and his laughter died with him.
Chapter 46
I clutched Quentin in my arms. We made it back to the den just as a wolf search party trampled through the woods. They took up protective positions, guiding us back home.
Isabella spotted us coming out of the copse and shouted my name. She held an ice pack against Jared's bruised and battered face. She shouted for Seth, who was attending to someone else's wounds. I limped across the backyard followed by an entourage of werewolves, holding a scared child in my tired arms, my legs aching to fold in on me. Everyone inside the house heard Isabell
a; they stampeded into the backyard, meeting us halfway.
Seth reached us first, but Quentin refused to let go of my neck. Colleen forced her way through the crowd. Her swollen, tearful eyes met mine. That was all the thanks I needed. She went around my back to get her brother's attention, calling his name and kissing his cheek. When realization hit, Quentin screamed for his big sister and leapt into her arms. She gripped her little brother tight, expressing more choked gratitude through cascading tears. Others, in human form, accompanied her as she carried Quentin inside, giving kisses and comforting touches. The pack loved both children; their divergent races made no difference. I envied that ... and lauded it at the same time.
Some of the wolves began changing on the lawn. Others asked if I was okay and wanted details of what had happened. I wasn't in the mood for a recap. With the crisis over, I had to pack my gear and be on my way. Again.
One step ... and I choked on a shriek. Grinding bones and sensitive nerve endings sliced though my foot as I stumbled forward. Aiyana's arms went around my waist, catching me before I landed on my face. She lowered my pain-stunned body to the lawn. Bryce pushed passed the onlookers and began removing my bootless, swollen sock. My eggplant foot had returned with a throbbing vengeance.
Bryce shook his head. “You've probably snapped your metatarsal clean through by now."
"So?” I wanted to say more, but the pain tightened my jaw
"A minimum of three weeks off this foot before you can walk again. That's assuming the damage isn't too serious."
"Three weeks? I can't sit around for three weeks."
He gawked. “Be thankful you're not human. Six weeks minimum. As it is, I'm thinking a month just to be sure."
"No way!"
A sweat bead trailed from my temples, and more slipped down my back. Why couldn't someone shoot me or at least knock me into unconsciousness? I hate gut-wrenching pain.
Bryce smirked. “This time, you get a nice a plaster cast. Fit for people to sign and draw pictures on. Best part of all, you'll need a saw to get it off."
If he only knew. I had killed one person tonight and had no qualms about adding another to the list.
He stood and looked at Seth. “Can you guys handle her? I have to check on Scott."
I grabbed his pant leg. “How is he? Is he okay? Did he—"
"He'll be fine. He's got two stab wounds on the side, but it's not life threatening ... unless he moves around too much."
Seth's empty eyes fell on me. “Several of us went out a while ago and found him. We brought him back here."
Bryce adjusted his glasses on his nose. “I know you guys have territorial issues, but he can't—"
"Yes, I know,” Seth said, waving him off. “That's why I've extended the Hunting Club's free pass. They're safe at the den until everyone who needs healing is healed."
We were lucky our people got hurt worse than his. Otherwise that free pass would have been a noose around our necks. I thought about Riley faking an injury just so that he could hang around some of the females. He'd be lucky if Seth didn't put a contract on his head on principle alone. I gave it one week before Seth threw everyone out of the house.
Bryce ran back inside so that he could tend to Scott, leaving Aiyana responsible for getting me up to my room in one piece. “My room” being the second floor corner room that Matt and I had slept in the last time we were here together. The moment he left, both Seth and Aiyana extended their hands to me. I stared at Seth's hand before taking it. I had every reason to be suspicious of the man who passed judgment on me without hearing my side. Sighing away my reluctance, I took both their hands. Once I got to my feet, Seth took it a step further by scooping me in his arms and carrying me to the den.
"Don't get any ideas,” he hissed. “We're not friends and won't be anytime soon."
"Then why are you carrying me?” I bet he'll drop me the first chance he gets.
"Because it's cold out here and I want to go inside."
Uh-huh.
Aiyana smiled and kissed my cheek. She cocked an eyebrow to remind me of her previous warning about not messing things up. I kept my lips buttoned. Everyone went from standing around in apprehension to giving me my own set of hugs and kisses.
Acceptance? I won't hold my breath. Acceptance was down a long paved road filled with potholes, uneven pavement, and trash along the sides. I took it as a sign of pity. Though I despised pity, I was in no condition to hold a grudge. Pain had sucked me dry of rational thought.
* * * *
None of this represented anything permanent. The Hunting Club and the Georgia Pack weren't friends. They had tolerated each other during a moment of crisis, but neither side would go beyond that. Dane could make friends with anyone because he had that type of personality, but Seth remained glacier cold. Though I would have liked a happy ending, I knew it wouldn't happen, so I didn't set myself up for one. Dane was a great guy and a cool Alpha, but he also had the ability to wash his hands of those who didn't want anything to do with him. Once they set out on the road for Charleston, he would throw his guard up. Unless they were passing through or on vacation, if anyone from the Georgia Pack ever wandered near Charleston, Dane would get in some target practice. The same went for anyone from the newly formed Charleston Pack who wandered into Georgia. Matt and I were the exception because we tied both packs together.
Being an Alpha and establishing a pack meant you owned the entire state unless you staked a claim on just the city. Dane didn't care about land opportunities, so he kept his claim to Charleston alone. Seth knew, given the way he kept an eye on my Alpha, that the Hunting Club wasn't something to kick around without repercussions.
Being off my feet gave me much needed time to think about how things had changed over the past couple of weeks. Though I longed for the temporary stability of a house, car, and other possessions, the permanent stability the pack offered was so much more tempting. This was as normal as my life would ever get, especially in a world where werewolves weren't the norm. The best we could hope for were a bunch of children to enrich our lives. Not a bad deal, if you ask me. Of course, that might cut into my Hunting Club activities, but that was a small price to pay.
The more I thought about it, the better that bed and breakfast idea sounded. I had finished noting several possible properties when a knock at the door stirred me. I placed my laptop on the bed and shouted for the person to enter.
Seth sauntered into the bedroom in silence. I hadn't seen much of him since the night he had carried me into the house and sat me on the bed. His face carried his trademark stolid look as he took one of the pillows from the headboard, placed it under my foot cast, and sat next to it.
"Didn't Bryce tell you to keep that leg elevated?” he asked.
"Yes,” I said, “but I thought staying off my feet was good enough."
"Are you taking your medication?"
"Only when it hurts.” If he cracked a whip, I'd dive out of another window.
A sigh. “I've never been one for small talk, so I'll get straight to the point. Do you honestly think you can be a member of two packs at the same time?"
"Who told you?—yes, I do.” I poke out my chin on that last part.
"And if there comes a time when you have to choose between the two?"
"I won't."
"Pardon?"
I sighed and pulled my good foot underneath my thigh. “I'll protect this pack and the Hunting Club to the best of my abilities. But if the two of you ever feel the need to go head to head on something, then count me out. I don't have time for petty arguments and short-tempered Alphas. You guys talked it over this time, so there's no reason why you can't do it again. This isn't the O.K. Corral, and the days of the Crusades are over."
"What if we're beyond talking?"
"I don't want to join a pack so that I can fight off other packs. If that's all this means to you, then maybe you should reevaluate your role as Pack Alpha. I'll follow anyone to war for a good cause, but I won't fight a ba
ttle for the sake of an ego trip. I am an all-or-nothing person, especially when comes down to life or death issues."
Seth stared thoughtfully for a moment. A smile crept across his lips before it remembered its place and returned to an indigenous frown. It happened so fast that I wished I'd had a witness. As long as I live, I'll never understand that man.
"I'm curious to see how this will turn out, seeing as everyone's venturing into untested waters. This is not an invitation to join, because I'm still not convinced that you're the best thing for the pack. However, your husband is here. That means I'm forced to deal with you."
"Is that why you've been avoiding me all this time?"
He arched an eyebrow, higher than I thought possible. “I avoid no one in my own home. But the point is this: I'm willing to compromise. You're not a member of this pack, but like Bryce, you're a trusted friend."
"What does that mean?"
"You can come and go as you please. As it was stated to me, you are free to call Aiyana for shoe shopping whenever you choose. But if you should find yourself in trouble, don't expect my people to bail you out. If they do, it'll be because Matt is risking life and limb to protect you."
I half-laughed and shook my head. “Then it's a matter of logistics. You realize that, don't you?"
Another sigh, laced with annoyance. “Unfortunate but true. Nonetheless, considering your strong will and the obvious difficulties we have in trusting one other, this is the best alternative. I believe you're capable of meting out your allegiance to more than one pack. But until we develop a healthy respect for one another, that remains to be seen.” On that note, he stood and headed for the door. Putting his hand on the knob, he turned quarter profile and said, “One thing I would keep in mind if I were you. You get no special allowances because of your human hybrid status. If you had chosen a life among humans, no one would grant allowances for your werewolf side. You're either one of us or you're not.” And on that note, he opened the door and left.
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