Last Wolf Hunting

by Rhyannon Byrd

  Searching deeper, Jillian shoved with everything she had, feeling as if she were turning her body inside out. Blood began trickling from her nose while a dull roar filled her head, the pressure intense, as if her skull would crack in two. She had no idea how many seconds her power bought her, but suddenly Jeremy was crashing through her door, the splintering wood cracking with a sickening wail. With a single, piercing glance, he took in the situation, and without any hesitation, he threw himself at the crouching wolf. His hands transformed into deadly claws as he slammed into the beast, and together they crashed to the side, rolling over her living-room floor, while the sky broke open again with another thundering strike of lightning. Rain began coming down like a great, roaring waterfall beyond the open doorway, drumming against the roof, its fresh, crisp scent washing over the nightmarish scene with the surging breeze, while Jeremy and the wolf battled in a vicious, violent striking of claws and gnashing fangs.

  Tears filled her eyes when she saw the werewolf’s sharp claws slash across Jeremy’s chest and his arm. She pressed her hand to her trembling mouth, torn between the need to help him and the fear that she’d only get in his way, when a blur of movement brushed past her from the doorway, and Mason joined his partner. Together, the two Bloodrunners quickly subdued the rage-filled wolf, shoving it face-first against the floor and pinning its powerful arms behind its back.

  With a low snarl, Mason’s claws reached for the beast’s neck, and Jillian shook herself out of her stupor. “No, don’t kill it!” she screamed, and the Bloodrunner sent her a sharp look of surprise. “It’s Elise,” she gasped, struggling to draw in enough air for her explanation. “Something’s wrong. She d-didn’t want to change. I d-don’t know what happened, but this isn’t her. I mean, it’s her…but she can’t control it! It just…overtook her. One minute we were talking, and in the next she was…changing.”

  The Runners shared a dark look, but neither said a word. Pulling back his right arm, Mason’s claws shifted into a clenched human fist. Jillian knew he meant to knock the snarling, bucking wolf unconscious with a blow to the temple, but just before he struck, the beast’s shape bled away and Elise regained her human form. Releasing her arms, the men shifted away from her shivering body, and Jillian grabbed the baby-soft afghan from the end of her sofa, wrapping it around Elise’s trembling shoulders as her friend curled onto her side, keening like a creature in pain. “It’s okay,” Jillian murmured in a low, soothing voice. “It’s okay now, honey. Everything’s okay.”

  Lifting her gaze, she found Jeremy staring down at her with an arrested expression on his face. His terror and concern for her were evident in his shattered appearance—his mouth grim, a torrent of emotions flashing through the glowing depths of his eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked, pulling her into his arms and holding her so tightly, she could barely breathe in his crushing embrace.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him, gazing up into his ruggedly handsome face, while everything that had happened, everything that she’d learned and experienced that day, crashed through her mind in a dizzying, chaotic jumble of details. “God, Jeremy, I have so much to tell you. Elise…she came here to confess that it was all a set-up, that scene at your house. Her father put her up to it, because Drake wanted you out of town.”

  His eyes narrowed with anger, but before he could comment, she said, “And before Elise got here, I had a visit from Danna Gibson.”

  “Danna?” he croaked, his hazel gaze going wide in surprise.

  “I’ll have to tell you about Carly, her little sister, later. What I want to tell you now is that Danna apologized for…everything. She told me that you never touched her after I came home from school.”

  “Did you believe her?” he asked, his expression guarded, and yet somehow tender, without any trace of the anger or bitterness she had expected.

  “I wanted to believe her,” she told him, “but I knew that the only way I was ever really going to learn the truth about what had happened was if I looked inside of you. And then, when I thought I was going to die, I finally realized that—”

  Suddenly, her confession was interrupted by a series of unearthly cries coming from the street, spilling in through the open doorway, making her heart clench with terror all over again. Jeremy moved to slam the broken door shut, while Mason peered through the front window. “I don’t believe it. We have more Lycans shifting in the street,” the Runner growled.

  “Wh-what do we do?” Jillian stammered, her jaw shaking so badly she could barely control it.

  “We get the hell out of here,” Jeremy muttered, cutting a sharp look at his partner.

  “I’ve got Elise,” Mason grunted, bending down to lift the trembling woman into his arms.

  “Stay behind me,” Jeremy ordered, opening the door, one hand clenched around Jillian’s wrist, holding her close to his back. The Lycans were still contorting in the street, their changes not yet complete, tortured bodies straining in agony as they writhed upon the rain-drenched asphalt. “Your truck’s closer, Mase. We need to make a run for it. Now!” Jeremy shouted, and Jillian struggled to keep her footing on the slippery sidewalk as they ran out into the rain, sprinting for the truck. Jeremy pulled open the driver’s side door and shoved her up into the front, while Mason laid Elise out over the backseat. Jumping in behind the wheel, Jeremy caught the keys that his partner tossed his way and cranked the engine. Mason jumped in on the passenger’s side, slamming his door as the first werewolf charged the truck.

  Through the windows, Jillian could see her neighbors opening their doors to those who were searching for a safe place to hide, while the feral wolves began closing in. Jeremy floored the gas pedal, sending the tires squealing while the end fishtailed, and then they finally found purchase and the truck surged forward. The driving sheets of rain made it impossible to see clearly, even with the windshield wipers on high, but Jeremy kept the accelerator down. A powerful set of claws scratched at Mason’s window, making a bloodcurdling sound, until Jeremy dropped a gear and the truck sped away with a roaring burst of speed.

  While Jeremy drove like a demon down the rain-soaked residential streets, his partner pulled out his cell phone. “I’m gonna try to get through to Dylan, if the storm hasn’t wiped out the network.”

  It took several tries, but Mason finally gave a soft grunt of satisfaction.

  “You have a problem on Lassiter Avenue,” he growled into the wafer-thin phone. “I don’t know what’s going on, but Lycans are having their wolves…Hell, it’s like they’re being ripped out against their will and the goddamn things are feral. Jeremy and I have Jillian and Elise Drake, but you need to get on the scene before somebody gets killed.”

  Jillian could hear Dylan’s furious reaction to the disturbing news, and then Mason said, “Just let us know when it’s over. We’ll be waiting for an explanation.”

  Shaking her head, Jillian was struggling to make sense out of everything that had happened when Elise’s frail whisper reached her ears. “Jilly.”

  Twisting around, Jillian reached over the front seat and grabbed Elise’s hand as her friend struggled to get out a broken, stammering string of apologies.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” she murmured, trying to calm her down. “No one’s angry at you, Elise. You didn’t do anything wrong. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “I need…I n-need to tell you what happened,” Elise croaked, tears leaking from her eyes, leaving salty trails down her cheeks. “I have to t-tell you, Jilly.”

  “It can wait,” she said gently, squeezing Elise’s hand. “Right now, you need to rest and save your strength.”

  “But it was my f-father,” she whispered, her mouth quivering.

  “Oh, god,” Jillian gasped, and at the same time Jeremy slammed on the brakes, jerking the truck to a screeching, jarring stop that nearly sent them skidding off the side of the rain-slick road.

  “I could feel him in my h-head,” Elise stammered, shaking like a leaf caught in the savage grasp of a storm. �
�Somehow, he made me change, and I c-could hear his voice telling me to k-kill you. And I think th-there was an-another one, but I couldn’t tell who it was. It was only my father’s voice that kept ordering me, t-telling me what to do. I couldn’t—couldn’t control it.”

  Finally, Elise’s eyes slid closed, and she slumped against the back of the seat, overtaken with exhaustion.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jeremy snarled, his expression savage as he shoved open his door and jumped out of the truck.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Mason demanded, rushing out the passenger’s side as Jillian scrambled out of the driver’s.

  “Jeremy!” she screamed, terror sinking deep as she suddenly realized what he was doing, watching as he headed north, cutting across a field of tall grass that led back into the forest. He was going back to Shadow Peak, toward the northwest side of town that bordered Stefan Drake’s property. Jillian rushed after him, but her bare feet slipped the moment she hit the rain-drenched grass and she fell on her hands and knees, sinking into the muddy soil. “Jeremy!” she screamed again.

  Turning, Jeremy kept moving, walking backward as he yelled, “Get her back to the Alley, Mase, and keep her there!”

  Strong arms suddenly banded her middle, pulling her to her feet. Jillian kicked and screamed, struggling to break free of Mason’s hold, but he wouldn’t budge.

  “Dammit, Jeremy!” Mason shouted over her head, as the rain began coming down even harder, blurring the lines of Jeremy’s body. His partner obviously knew, just as Jillian did, that Jeremy was heading back to Shadow Peak. After hearing Elise’s confession, he was going after Drake for making an attempt on her life. “Wait for backup!” Mason snarled with fury. “That’s an order!”

  “Oh, god. You can’t let him go!” she sobbed, hysterical, terrified that she was never going to see him again—that she was going to lose him. “What the hell is wrong with you? Go after him!” she cried, watching through rain and tears as Jeremy disappeared into the heavy line of trees. “He’s going to get himself killed facing Drake on his own!”

  “Jillian, calm down,” Mason grunted, his chest heaving as he finally turned and carried her back to the truck. “Jeremy won’t do anything stupid. He’s too smart to—”

  “He isn’t thinking straight!” she seethed, wanting to scratch and claw at him, if only it would make him listen to reason. “You have to help him!”

  “I’m going after him, as soon as I get you and Elise to the Alley,” he barked, pushing her across the front seat of the truck as he climbed behind the wheel and immediately floored the gas pedal. She cast a swift glance at the passenger’s side door, wondering…But knew she’d never catch up to Jeremy in time.

  Pulling his phone back out, Mason tried to calm her down. “He won’t be alone, Jillian. I’m going to call Dylan back and tell him to head to Drake’s.”

  “By the time you drive us to the Alley, you’ll be too late,” she croaked, knowing there was only one hope—if she could just convince the Runner to trust her judgment. “And Dylan doesn’t have the guts to stand up to Drake. You know that! You’ve got to call Eric, Mase. He’ll help, I swear.”

  Mason slanted her a grim look, then cut his gaze back to the winding road. “You want me to call the son of the man Jeremy intends to kill for help?”

  “Eric isn’t like his father. Please, Mason,” she whispered, clutching on to his arm with her muddy fingers, feeling as she were grasping at a lifeline. “Trust me. If you ask for his help, Eric will do the right thing. I know he will.”

  Mason worked his jaw, cursing something foul under his breath, then finally let out a harsh sigh. “You had better not be wrong,” he muttered, handing her the phone. “Go ahead. Dial his goddamn number. But let me do the talking.”

  * * *

  By the time Jeremy broke out of the forest at the edge of Stefan Drake’s property, evening had fallen. The rain had finally eased to a light mist, but his clothes were soaked with water, as well as the blood that seeped from the shallow wounds Elise’s claws had slashed across his arms and abdomen. And yet he didn’t feel the pain from his injuries. All he felt was the hot, scalding burn of anger, his wolf prowling just beneath the surface of his skin—the savagery of the rumbling thunder the perfect complement to his murderous rage.

  The second he’d heard Elise’s whispered words, he’d known what he had to do.

  Drake’s house sat in silent darkness to his left, but there was an eerie glow of light coming from the ancient barn at the back of the property, off to his right. Lowering his head, Jeremy sniffed at the air, catching what he wanted.

  Drake.

  The wind was on his side, and he sniffed at the air again. His prey wasn’t alone. He could just catch Cooper Sheffield’s foul stench, and wondered with a low snarl if Drake had felt he needed his muscle for protection, now that his attack on Jillian’s life had failed.

  Flexing his hands at his sides, his flesh burned as his claws pricked the tips of his fingers. Blood trickled from his hands, mixing with the rainwater on the soft grass beneath his feet, his gums burning as his fangs struggled to break free. And yet, he resisted the shift, knowing he needed to retain as much of his humanity as he could, before the seething darkness in him overshadowed the reason of the man.

  The wolf wanted blood—but the Bloodrunner wanted justice.

  Careful to stay downwind, Jeremy traveled the edge of the property, until he came around the far side of the barn. Sheffield’s burgundy Avalanche had been left idling near the barn’s entrance, the metallic scent of the engine thick in the evening air. They were obviously in a hurry…but Jeremy had no intention of letting Drake escape. He could hear them inside, their voices raised in anger. Moving with the stealth skill of a hunter, he’d just reached for the heavy wooden door when a sound off to his left had him spinning around, his muscles tensed, ready to strike.

  Jeremy blinked, unable to believe what he was seeing. Eric Drake stood no more than five feet away, his hands lifted in a gesture of peace, his clothes as rain-soaked as his own. “What the hell are you doing here?” Jeremy snarled in a stifled rasp, while lightning crackled across the sky and thunder rumbled like a monstrous bellow of rage.

  Eric’s gray eyes burned with a hard, steely purpose. “Your partner called me. He told me about Jillian and my sister. Then he asked for a favor.”

  It was on the tip of Jeremy’s tongue to tell the Lycan there was no way in hell Mason would have asked him for help, when he suddenly realized just whose idea calling Eric must have been. “Jillian was wrong to involve you. I can handle this on my own.”

  “I’m sure you can.” The Lycan took a step closer, his face set in an expression of pure, ruthless determination. “But the good news is that you won’t have to.”

  “Just stay the hell out of my way,” Jeremy grunted. Turning back to the door, he kicked it open, grinning with cold satisfaction when Drake and Sheffield spun around in startled surprise. They’d both been so engrossed in their argument, neither had noticed they had company.

  “Well, imagine that,” Jeremy remarked with deceptive calm, his voice soft as he stepped into the dank structure, aware of Eric following just behind him. “You two actually look surprised to see me.”

  The barn was completely open inside, with exposed beams, a rustic plank floor and an assortment of tables and chairs clustered together in groups. Jeremy guessed the building was used as a headquarters for Drake’s “pure-blooded” movement, and it was almost as if he could smell the thick scent of hatred in the stale air, the taste rotten and sharp against his tongue.

  Drake and Sheffield stood in the center of the floor, before a massive oak table littered with a variety of automatic handguns and rifles, reminding Jeremy of the healing bullet wound in his shoulder. He had no doubt, now, that the shots in the forest that day had come from the pack’s security chief. Sheffield took a step forward, his expression carved with sneering malice, but Drake stayed his second-in-command with a touch on his arm. “I
t’s all right, Cooper,” he murmured, stepping around him. “We have nothing to fear. After all, he’s here because he wishes to do the honorable thing and challenge me for daring to rid the world of that pathetic little mate of his. Isn’t that right, Runner?”

  “I’m challenging you, all right,” Jeremy offered in a gritty rasp, allowing a hard smile to curl the edges of his mouth. “And I’m going to enjoy watching you die when I’m done with you.”

  “And I see you’ve brought my son along for help,” the Elder drawled, throwing back his head with a faint, hoarse cackle. “How pathetically fitting, considering Eric never could choose the winning side. He’s always been one to champion the underdog, like that worthless sister of his.”

  Jeremy could sense the cold burn of fury pouring through the Lycan, though Eric refused to rise to the bait. Instead, he crossed his arms over his broad chest, his attention focused on Sheffield, just daring the bastard to make a move, and Jeremy couldn’t help but admire his restraint. He could only assume that Eric Drake had mastered the art of ignoring his psychotic father a long time ago.

  Keeping his own attention focused on Drake, Jeremy allowed his claws to fully slip his skin, the razor-sharp weapons piercing through the tips of his fingers with a sinister hiss of sound. “Are you ready, Drake? Any last words before Eric does the honors and draws the sacred Challenge Circle?”

  “I’m afraid you’ve come all this way for nothing,” the Elder murmured, his pewter brows lifted high on his wrinkled brow. “I’d enjoy nothing more than tearing into you, Runner, but the League no longer allows the challenge of an Elder.”