“No. Keep a look out for that one.” He thought of how the strange wolf had kept trying to get at India. “I think that one’s a poacher.”
“You know, by tonight, every one of the pack’s warden’s will be AWOL for your benefit. Not really the best way to protect everyone.”
Chase bristled. “Tank took off on his own.”
“True.” Bradley’s words were spoken after careful consideration. “Don’t worry. We’ve got your back. No one wants to see Diana Weis do something she’ll regret by breaking ass on some innocent female. She’ll come around.”
“I’ll call when I have more.”
“See you around.” The background noise ceased, signaling the end of the call. Chase flipped his phone shut aware of India’s seething glare. He sped through Elkhart, the last town in Anderson County, thinking of a place in Grapeland that one of his Were contacts recommended to eat.
“What are you going to do with Reggie?” She demanded.
Chase would have been more impressed with her apparent loyalty if he hadn’t been the sacrifice she’d chosen, inadvertently or not, to be her freakin’ white knight. “Not much. Just makin’ sure that he’s not Hunter bait.”
He snorted. Hell, he wasn’t that honorable, even on his best days. “Don’t know why I’m bothering. I should just kick both your asses to the county line and wave goodbye and good luck with the Hunter.” Leaving a message first on Jude’s phone to call him back then with the other Weres, he crossed over the highway. Making a quick left, he turned into the driveway of a large open Exxon station named Harold’s. The place didn’t look like much, just your average gas and go, with one side advertising a small restaurant.
The sitting area was open and airy, giving Chase no good place to sit and protect his back at the same time. Finally, he chose a place near what he imagined was the rear kitchen entrance. At least there he had a good visual on all the windows and the front door. He hoped the food was worth the way his hackles rose at every noise from the doorway.
Chapter Thirteen
At the local Super Supercenter, Carter reached for the zippered plastic bag with the werewolf scent spoor. Pete had been meticulous, going through the werewolves dens before he’d finished hunting them down, one by one. Carter did not agree with the methods the other man used or even the kill ‘em all and let the devil sort it out mentality, Pete had developed, but they’d both been Hunters, bound by blood and species to stand for one another. Carter liked to pick and choose his battles, not the other way around.
His skin shuddered with the barely there sensation of being watched again. Fingers twitching, Carter stopped himself before reaching for his cell phone, a new one, nothing fancy, with a prepaid throwaway SIM card and the other one safely disposed of. It was possible for Chowder to do a little illegal snooping using government satellites. Infrared imaging did wonders for uncovering locales of supernatural activity. Still, Carter felt uneasy cluing the Chowderhead in on what was, or rather wasn’t, going on.
On the plus side, he reasoned that the local pack, Garrick Moser’s old pack, had probably already found and absorbed his quarry into their number. Once accepted, werewolves bonded fast. Carter liked the idea of taking something away from them in a permanent way. It wasn’t revenge, just helping karma along a bit.
Before he could open the door on his truck, he spied the distinctive loping grace of a werewolf. A quick peek with his Sight, revealed the heated magic of a shapeshifter. The ghost-wolf of her spirit walked eerily in the same space, just as solid to him as her human disguise. The drain on his powers hit him hard, since he hadn’t not rested from his moronic move with the shifter in the woods. The whole musical motel thing wasn’t conductive to rest either.
The long legged blond beauty wrestled two shopping carts full of groceries in his direction. Without thinking, Carter was out of the car and gripped the basket of the first almost run-away cart. “Hey there.” He leveled his most charming grin, just deep enough to bring out the dimples in his cheeks that women liked so much. He needed a haircut bad, but met her blue eyes with a steady dark gaze. Up close, he saw that she used almost no make-up to enhance her runway-model looks. Purebred werewolves tended to be an attractive lot. Vampires too, but bloodsuckers could be butt ugly and still get what they needed with the ton of pheromones they produced, bait to draw prey. “Need a hand with that?”
“Oh!” An answering smile lit her with face with, if he weren’t so jaded, could have been true innocence. “Thank you.” She pointed to a convertible VW Bug. “That’s my car.” One of the new nauseatingly cute ones, in bright yellow. “Cold you hold that a moment. I don’t like to put food in the trunk.”
“Sure.” Bobbing an affable nod, he made a mental note of the license plate. In Carter’s world, monsters weren’t innocent. Being prepared was crucial to survival.
Holding the grocery baskets, he waited while she beeped off the car alarm. She was the kind of woman that would have made a guy of any human-appearing species drooling with desire. Then the werewolf female bent over, her jeans stretching tight over a heart shaped ass as she reached inside to hit whatever switch controlled the top. As soon as the top was down, he took charge of unloading the baskets into the backseat. It was hard not to notice the abundance of red meat. “Looks like you are planning a big party,” He commented, hefting a couple of ten-pound packages of hamburger in to the back.
She laughed. “No. I’ve got a huge family. We get together a lot.” The many bangles on her wrists shimmered as she physically pushed his observation aside with a careless wave. Picking up one small bag of leafy greens and tomatoes, she put it carefully on top of the heavier things. “As you can see, we’re not big on veggies either.” She followed him to the basket corral and held out one delicate hand. “I’m Tamara. Thank you again for your help.”
“Carter. Good to meet you.” Carter held his hands out to the side and made a face. “Sorry, but you might want to check your bags.” She colored with embarrassment, all the way to her naturally blond roots, making him want to apologize. It was oddly cute and dainty for a monster. “It’s not a problem. I can wash up inside.”
“Okay.” Tamara hesitated, obviously needing to leave, but reluctant to do so.
“You should get that milk out of the heat.” Carter prodded, watching as she tilted her head just slightly, as if following the rapid pound of his heart. Her finely shaped nose flared delicately, making him curse inwardly. He’d already taken this too far, like an adrenaline junkie who climbed sheer cliffs with no tie-off. Or Pete and his insane need to kill off an established werewolf Pack that happened to live too close for his comfort.
“See you around.” Carter turned and walked back to his truck damning himself for an idiot. She had his name. He lifted one hand at her cheerful farewell as she finally slipped into her cute little car. Now he was screwed if he used the bags for scent spoor and his own contaminated it. Damn, damn it all. An idea hit him. Pulling out his cell phone, he accessed the Bluetooth and scanned for available devices. He got two hits and saved one to his phone chip. Carter’d bet his favorite silver blade that Tam’s Phone was his hot little blonde werewolf phone number.
Hesitating just a moment longer, Carter was rewarded as a big black pickup truck honked, flagging the female’s small VW Bug down. Carter almost disbelieved his Sight, the hot red shapeshifter energy was discernable, shot through with swirls of golden, even if the creature was not. Almost nothing could be seen through the tinted front windows, except one tanned muscular arm resting on the open driver’s window. Tamara’s cheerful familiarity with the driver was evident as was the slow let down of her features as whatever the male werewolf said disappointed her. With a slump to her shoulders that wasn’t there before, she nodded her assent before pulling out of the parking lot.
Pack animals, Carter mused. You just had to love the irony of it.
With his first plan shot to hell by his own deeds, he waited a few moments before following the black truck. Appropria
tely, the tinted back window was detailed with a snarling wolf. The words, Bad to the Bone, were stenciled in a sharp tearing lettering. The Hunter in him was appalled. They guy in him thought the effect was pretty damn cool.
* * * *
Life, in Mack’s opinion, was a Poker game. For the most part, you played the cards you were dealt. You bluffed when you had to. If your hand really sucked, you folded and waited for a new round. With so many wild cards in play, the Hunter, Chase and his stray mate, and Tank running off to parts unknown, they’d had to sit tight, protecting their own, while they waited for the next move in this game.
For him, that meant work as usual. Lobos Luna Construction still had contracts to fulfill and Mack had a whole crew of normal humans to supervise. The familiar staccato pop of nail guns in the background threatened to draw him back into the days where that was one the many sounds of death. Instead, he climbed halfway up his brand new non-conductive fiberglass extension ladder, acquired in a round of Adam-inspired safety buying spree. Mack busied his hands with a flat carpenter pencil and an angle that he used to mark where the rafter joints would be placed. His mind kept reaching out, straining his limited psychic abilities to sense anything out of the ordinary. Limited, because his major “gift” sucked. That one power tied up the majority of his energy reserves, leaving him with just enough juice to periodically scan his surroundings and block his mind from intrusion.
He hadn’t started out with grand aspirations to foreman a werewolf’s construction company. The military had been his ticket away from home and the fanatical prejudices that made up the psychic communities. Ultimately, nothing had changed, only the people sanctioning the killing. If life was a poker game, then Death was cardsharp playing a high stakes game.
Years of living among his furry friends and their touchy-feely ways had definitely rubbed off. The familiar feel of wood beneath his thick, scarred fingers soothed him. As did the scratch-scratch of the blunt pencil. Living among werewolves, or wolven, as his picky friends liked to be called, had taught Mack to appreciate all his senses. The wood and his hands wavered as inner Sight took possession of his mind. Mack sucked in a breath, preparing for the pain to come. He didn’t notice the pencil and angle slip from his grasp.
He fell into the vision, the world blanketed in darkness. His side throbbing painfully, heaving with the effort to breathe as he tried to escape his pursuer. His tail tucked securely against his rump. The sharp lacerations to his paws and hide barely registered as he scrabbled through a break in the fence. He didn’t care to discern the soured and foul scents that assaulted his sensitive nose. He tried to be brave. He didn’t whine. Only escape was imperative.
Seeing a possible hiding place, he climbed a mound of trash and junk. Maybe the Hunter wouldn’t follow him here. He didn’t count on it. The Hunter was relentless. A noise startled him. The crack of a rifle? Burning pain pierced his side followed by the flowing acidic burn of silver. God, how he was familiar with that. He was so tired of the running and the sickness. The shivering pain made the precarious mound of garbage shift. But he didn’t care anymore beyond the fire in his blood, the wind in his fur, and finally the final slicing pain of impact.
Acid ate through his veins, torture like he’d never experienced before. Helpless, he fought against the restraints holding him down, his own blood making his struggles a gory painful slippery torment. The final piercing through his heart burned like fire, his failing heart trying to beat around the obstruction. Relieved, he welcomed death as blissful escape.
Flashes of red tinged light stabbed into Mack’s consciousness. Screams and growls tore at his ears as he ran, the whimpering bundle of a puppy cradled against a woman’s chest. Though her eyes, she saw and felt the grief as another bullet hit the blond wolf trying to protect their escape. Blood and gore exploded from his neck, spraying his/her housedress with her mate’s lifeblood. She stopped, screaming with grief, even as she tried to rally for the little one in her grasp. Sharp pain exploded into his/her chest and he flashed away.
Agony consumed him as the heat ate his skin. Trapped under the rubble of the pool house, the fire burned him alive, with water only steps away. Blessed darkness descended and he died again and flashed elsewhere.
This time, he recognized his own bloody hands, the weight of his own body as he grappled to push the teeth away from his throat. He felt the surreal déjà vu as pain he’d felt once before tore through his body. Werewolf’s claws ripped him open, from chest to groin. Mack’s hands lost grip in the beast’s neck fur. His fingers slipped. He choked on blood, feeling and hearing the werewolf’s teeth crunch through his neck.
This time there would be no coming back. They were all going to die.
Chapter Fourteen
The person who’d come out to take India and Chase’s order turned out to be a rather tall woman with striking features. She reminded India of the lovely women of the Rubenesque era. Not traditionally pretty, the woman couldn’t be called fat, but large boned and full figured in the best possible way, making India feel positively boyish next to her. Order pad in hand, the waitress smiled wide. Golden curls escaped from the clip holding the froth of her hair on the top of her head bounced around her face. Her grayish-green eyes practically glowed with inner peace and amusement. “Do you know what you want?”
They ordered hamburgers while India tried to keep her tumbling thoughts and emotions to herself. Her arm throbbed from last night’s tender mercies of Chase’s Pack despite the salve she’d found in the bathroom cabinet. She’d been right to mistrust Betty’s glowing endorsement of a Pack infamous for cruel leaders. Escape wasn’t an option for her. The bond between her and Chase was too strong and wasn’t one she wanted to explore. He could track her down in a heartbeat and she knew it. His lingering anger, felt keenly from the bond, made her head ache. So did her worry for Reggie. She didn’t trust his pack not hurt him.
India stood up, pulling her arm sharply back when he grabbed her. “I have to use the restroom.” She glared down at his handsome features. “Do you mind?”
“Don’t take too long.” His eyes gleamed red-gold in warning.
“What? You’re going to time me?” India’s lip curled. She’d already apologized for her wrong. Now, she’d had enough of his attitude. Her own hackles prickled. “Would you rather wait outside the ladies room while I do my business?”
That settled him down. “Nah. I’ve got some calls to make.” Chase gave her once more heated look before flipping open his phone again.
Yeah. She thought that’d be his answer. India slipped around the corner to the hallway that housed the restrooms. She glanced around, biting her lip with indecision. Surely, there was an office here somewhere. The tall waitress came out of the restroom, wiping her hands on a paper towel. She glanced over India, a small frown between her eyebrows. “Is everything alright?” Obviously, the waitress didn’t think so.
Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, India hesitated. The woman seemed nice enough. She had to take a chance. Glancing at the hallway entry, she kept her voice low. “You wouldn’t happen to have a cell phone on you that I could borrow, would you?”
The waitress’s frown deepened. “Are you in trouble?” Thankfully, she pulled a battered looking phone from her hip pocket and handed it over. Seeing as she had no choice, India dialed Betty’s home number. She prayed Reggie had stayed put.
“Hello?” Her friend’s raspy voice sounded wonderful to India’s ears.
“Betty? Is Reggie there?” Please, please, please let him be there. She begged the higher powers.
“Oh, yes. He’s piddling in the kitchen. I told him he needed to rest at least a day, but he wouldn’t sit still.” Sounds of movement came from the other end of the cell phone. “It’s hard to believe just yesterday that arm was broke as a chicken neck.”
Mentally India cringed at the visual that remark brought to mind. “Hey, where are you?” She breathed a sigh of relief when his steady voice sounded in her ear. “I went t
o the apartment last night and…well.” Her heart contracted. God. He could have happened onto one of those Wardens. They could have ripped his throat out or worse. “Where are you, India?”
“Listen to me little brother.” She substituted little for pack for the waitress’s benefit. “I need you to leave town. Go towards Tyler.”
“But what about Betty? Where will I meet you?”
Feeling the time crunch, she ignored the waitress’s disquiet. Any moment, Chase could take her up on her challenge to babysit her in the restroom. “Now. Just go. I’ll find you.” Maybe. If she survived both Chase’s Pack and the Hunter. India closed the phone and handed it back.
“If you need to get away,” the waitress looked pointedly at the entry.
India stopped her with a shake of her head. “No. I just needed to use the phone.” She didn’t need to drag innocent humans into her mess.
“If you’re sure. That guy you’re with…” She didn’t sound sure. She sounded ready to call the police on Chase.
An unaccountable protectiveness surged within India, especially given her companion’s surly aggressive behavior. “No. He’s okay.” A jerk, yes. But so far, Chase’s presence made her feel safer than she had in a long time. Plus, she owed him. Shaking her head, she pushed open the restroom door, making good her escape and her alibi. With luck, Reggie would be long gone by the time Chase’s pack got there.
Taking her time, India washed her hands. She grimaced at the thin, tired female that stared back at her from the mirror, looking more like a victim than the strong, proud, wolven she knew herself to be. When had she begun to accept the kind of life that turned her into a cowering thief?
Never before had she questioned or toyed with the mystical bonds that tied her to her pack. Created by the Alphas, once established, the packbond was strong enough to exist after their deaths. When taking over a pack, the new Alpha would exert his own dominance over the bond with both blood and the magical energy that made them what they were.
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