Carly, curious, removed her hand so that Kristen could speak. "And what I refuse? What if I just want to be on my own?"
"It doesn't work that way, girlie," Carly growled. "You either join the pack, or as your marker, I will gut you like a fish." She pulled back, just enough to look Kristen over. "On second thought..." she cooed, letting her light green eyes dance over her captive's tight frame. "You're a beautiful girl, Kristen. We could have so much fun together!"
She grasped the neck of Kristen's t-shirt and ripped it open, exposing her chest and cleavage. Kristen screamed. Carly placed a hand over Kristen's left breast and squeezed. Her eyes changed, taking on a lustful, tawny hue.
Kristen slid her right hand into her pocket. Wrapped her fingers around something. Carly leaned in and licked her neck. Kristen cringed, then shot her had up--driving a silver spike into Carly's shoulder. Carly jerked away and ripped the spike out with an ear-splitting howl; Kristen bolted for the street. She rounded the corner--
Stopped short as she locked eyes with Travis, standing at the end of the block. He charged after her. Instead of running in the opposite direction, Kristen darted into the street--right into the path of oncoming traffic. She scurried across without incident.
Travis followed her. He was almost across when an SUV hit its brakes and slammed into him, sending him flying several feet before smashing to the ground and rolling for several more. Kristen never stopped, disappearing into the shadows of another alley.
The driver of the SUV, a middle-aged man, hopped out, frantic. He rushed to Travis, lying prone on his back in the street. "Oh my god! Are you okay?" Travis' eyes popped open. He sat up, much to the driver's astonishment, and reached over with his right hand--snapping his dislocated left shoulder back into place with one brutal crunch. The driver lost his lunch on the asphalt as Travis got to his feet and continued the chase.
Kristen flew across the next street and through the gates of Dowling Park, Weeping Springs' own miniature version of Central Park. She cut across the grass, making a beeline for a small, wooden bridge that crossed a pond, leading to the other half of the park. Two large oak trees marked the entrance. Halfway there, she glanced over her shoulder--
Travis wasn't far behind, and getting closer by the second. Despite his disheveled smoker's appearance, he moved with shocking grace and agility, seemingly unfazed by the sprint. Kristen turned back for the bridge and gave it all she had.
Deep down, however, she knew it wasn't enough. But if this was it for her, she was going to make the bastard work for it. Kristen neared the structure--
Alex swung out from behind one of the trees, one of the P99s drawn. "Get down!" Kristen dropped into a baseball slide as Alex pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped into Travis' right arm and he stumbled to the ground. "Let's go!" Alex screamed. Kristen, a fresh burst of adrenaline surging through her, popped up and they darted across the bridge.
Travis groaned in pain, clutching his wound. He pulled his hand away to see the damage. It was only a graze, but he watched in horror as the blood blackened before his eyes.
On the other side of the bridge, Alex barely hit the grass before she stopped short, throwing out an arm to catch Kristen.
"What are you doing? Why are we stopping?" She followed Alex's gaze.
Tristan and Roxy strolled toward them. Alex swung up the P99, but something caught her attention out the corner of her eye, closing in from the left. Slasher and the wounded, snarling Carly. Alex turned to her right; Lucas and Lisa strode toward them, their glowering faces full of intended menace. Alex glanced over her shoulder. Travis, still holding his wound, brought up the rear.
"So you're the hunter who's come to town to drive us out," Tristan said, stepping closer to Alex. He took a deep whiff. "Carly said you had a...unique stench about you."
Alex turned to Carly. "She wasn't exactly April fresh herself." Carly snarled in return.
Tristan's eyes fell upon Kristen."And you must be the one who killed Nelson. Kristen, right?"
Kristen's eyes jumped from lyca to lyca. She could feel her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest. She trembled, her throat ran dry. A million thoughts overloaded her brain at the same time but they all had one underlying current: survive. Alex, on the other hand, remained completely calm. Her gun remained trained on Tristan's heart as he moved in a short arc in front of her.
"Do you really think that gun is a good idea in the middle of a public park?"
"Whatever it takes to get rid of scum like you," Alex said, re-gripping the handle.
"I see. And what about your little friend?" Alex and Kristen linked eyes. "Even if you did manage to put me down, there's no way the both of you would make it out of here alive. My pack would see to that." Alex cut her eyes to the others. Their expressions dared her to make a move. "Problem is, you're not going to make it out alive, anyway. You came onto our turf and hurt our family." He walked up to withing inches of Alex. "And we have no tolerance for those who hurt our family." Looking her dead in the eye, Tristan stepped closer and placed his chest against the barrel of her gun, same way Alex done to Neiland just earlier in the day.
Alex glared at him, the tempation unbearable. He was right there. All she had to do was pull the trigger. But, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. It was one thing for her to play fast and loose with her life, but she had Kristen to worry about, and she'd be damned if another Baines was lost on her watch. She had no choice. She let Tristan pull her punk card.
Tristan smirked, walked back to Roxy's side. "Take them." The pack moved to execute their alpha's command. Alex cooly reached into the coat and drew the other Walther.
"We're not going anywhere."
Tristan turned, looked once again into Alex's eyes. "Very well." He nodded to the others. They exchanged grins, pulled out guns of their own. Alex reevaluated the situation.
"This is new."
"Tell me you have a plan for this," Kristen muttered under her breath, her voice crackling with fear.
"I do. You run, I shoot."
"Alex--"
"If something happens to me, this town'll need another line of defense," Alex said, turning to Kristen. "And your dad's gonna need your help." Kristen stared back, realizing what could happen in the next few moments. Tears welled in the bottoms of her eyes.
"Alex, please..." she begged.
"Don't worry. I got this. Now pick a spot." Kristen nodded. Steeled herself. "Go!"
Kristen sprang for the crease between two of the pairs of Lycas. Alex opened fire. The pack members scrambled, squeezing off rounds as they retreated for cover, and Alex did the same, ducking behind a nearby tree. She spotted Kristen, out in the open as she made her escape, and leaned into the lycas' fire, laying down suppression to cover her long enough as she vanished into a gorup of trees in the distance.
The lycas, together, returned fire, pinning Alex behind the tree as bullets ripped the bark around her head and body. She eyed one of the streets that ran along the edge of the park and made a run for it, blasting off a few shots to mask her own escape.
Alex hopped over a small brick wall that marked the barrier of the park. She landed on the sidewalk and dashed into the street without looking. She spun and fired back into the park--
An oncoming car screeched to a halt just inches from hitting her, causing two others to slam their brakes behind. The woman behind the wheel leaned into the horn, hurling curses at Alex. Alex shrugged, then continued to the other side of the street.
Tristan and the pack exploded from the park, aiming and firing at will across the street, puncturing cars, storefronts, and a few unfortunate pedestrians. People panicked and screamed, racing for cover behind whatever they could find.
Alex, on the opposite sidewalk, dodged the gunfire and threw herself to the pavement behind a parked blue sedan. The lycas concentrated their fire on her. Metal pinged. Glass cascaded down around her. Covering her head from the raining debris, Alex managed to glimpse a fallen pedestrian a few cars d
own, a late-model station wagon conveniently supplying cover for him. He was on his back, however, his face susceptible to falling glass and bits of concrete being torn from the bakery wall on his other side.
Pushing up to her feet, Alex scampered to the man, trying to stay low to avoid the pack's detection. She set her guns down and paced her index and middle finger to the man's check, checking for a pulse. His eyes, glassy, rolled back into his head. His body convulsed. He hacked up blood.
"C'mon," Alex pleaded, patting the man's cheek. He looked to be in his early twenties--far too young to die. "C'mon, please!" The man rasped once more, then faded away. Alex dropped her head; closed his eyes.
The pack strolled across the street. Guns trained. Ready. They came within fifteen feet of Alex's cover.
She sprang up. Unloaded on them.
Neliand glowered as he drove his unit back to headquarters. He had made a few stops since going by the chucrh to speak with Baines, but it was that conversation that still bothered him. He couldn't understand why Baines had been so strange and evasive in answering his questions. It would seem that he'd be the first in line other than the Moorelands to help in the investigation--or at least the second, behind Kristen, who he still had yet to see or question. Baines had said something about demons, and an angel who was sent to help them. It would've been the weirdest thing he'd dealt with that day, but that spot was still occupied by the mysterious, indignant black goth lady who had vanished on him in the woods. Just then a thought clicked--could they be connected?
The radio in his unit crackled to life with an opportunity to find out. "All units, we have a ten-fifteen on the corner of Main and West..." Neiland turned up the volume. "I repeat, ten-fifteen, corner of Main and West. Shots fired. Civilians injured. Multiple ten-thirty-twos on foot. Proceed with caution..."
Alex exploded from an alley and sprinted across the street, ducking gunfire as she slipped between two buildings on the other side. Lucas and Slasher chased after her.
Popping out on the next street, Alex immediately ducked; Lisa and Travis, racing in from ahead of her, plastered the buildings and cars with bullets. Alex bolted for the intersection as Lucas and Slasher emerged from the alley and added to the hail of lead, just missing Alex and she rounded the corner--
Pulling up as a police cruiser skidded to a halt in the middle of the street, the driver hopping out. It was Peters. "Hold it right there!"
Alex was already running in the opposite direction. She made a right at the next intersection--
Another cruiser cut her off. Alex backed away, only to find that Peters hadn't given up and was attempting to run her down on foot. Alex, barely winded but majorly annoyed, ran right at the second cruiser, hopping up onto its hood and scooting over the top before dropping to the pavement on the other side. She never broke stride, tearing down the street past two businesses before ducking into another alley.
Alex charged for the brick wall at the end. Peters, dogged as ever in his pursuit but wearing down quickly, entered the alley. He pulled his service weapon.
"Freeze!" Alex ignored him, jutting the Walthers into their holsters and leaping at the wall, clutching it at the top of its seven foot edge. "What the hell?" Peters asked himself in astonishment. Alex was up and over in no time, leaving him to ponder just who the hell he was chasing.
Alex burst out onto the street on the other side, but from out of nowhere a third cruiser flew in--clipping Alex. She tumbled hard over the hood and rolled off, crashing in a heap on the other side. She tried to get up, but a cocking pistol was thrust in her face.
"I wouldn't do that." Neiland held the weapon.
"Detective,"Alex said, panting. "Figured I'd run into you again." She laughed, laid flat on the asphalt.
A fourth cruiser pulled up from the other end of the street, its driver quickly jumping out to provide backup. Peters stumbled into the picture as well, gasping as he bent over and put his hands on his knees. Together they removed Alex's guns and dragged her to her feet, slamming her over the hood of Neiland's car.
As she was being cuffed, Alex glanced toward the end of the street. There, standing on the step of a building in the next block, was Kristen. She glared at Alex, wide-eyed.
Alex nodded, added a reassuring smile. The third officer helped Neiland pick her up and walk her to the back of Neiland's cruiser where he opened the door while Neiland tucked Alex inside.
Kristen watched as the officers drove away. Once their cars had rounded the corner, she looked around to make sure the coast was clear. Seeing no sign of the pack, she turned to headed back to where she had parked her truck, keeping her head low. As she made her way down the sidewalk--
Carly stepped out from behind a building. She smirked. Slunk back into the shadows.
SEVENTEEN
Alex sat in a chair in front of Neiland's desk with her hands cuffed behind her back, looking on with great annoyance as Peters and the other officer who had assisted in her arrest, Webster, fiddled with her effects at a table across the room. Peters picked up her leather coat, touched the right sleeve. He felt something hard inside it, noticing that instead of laying flat, it maintained a rigid, round shape. He lifted the sleeve to his face, looked into the wrist hole.
"I wouldn't do that. You might lose an eye," Alex said drolly. "Then again..."
Peters cut his eyes to her, Then back to the sleeve. He set the coat down gingerly.
"This all might be a big joke to you, Miss Craine," Neiland said, walking into the room and perching himself on the edge of his desk, "but I take murder very seriously." He dropped Alex's shoulder holders, with the Walthers inside, on the desk with a heavy clunk. Alex grimaced at the mistreatment of her babies. "Tell me something," he continued, "What's a rich girl like you doing way out here?"
"Someone's been doing their homework," Alex said with a smirk.
"We have the Internet out here, too, you know." Alex chucked. Looked away. "I asked you a question."
"I'm on business."
"Yeah? What kind?"
Alex rolled her neck, bringing her gaze back to Neiland's. "Pest control."
Neiland narrowed his eyes, his patience wearing paper-thin. "Well, I hope you like it here, because this job's gonna wind up taking much longer than you expected."
Alex rolled her eyes.
"Chief! Look who we got!" Peters called out as Cheif Wallace rumbled into the office. Alex turned and looked at the man, her eyes tightening into a death stare. Wallace regarded her in the same manner.
"She was involved in the gun fight downtown," Neiland informed. "I'm working on her now to see if she has any information about Jenny Mooreland's killing." Then, looking at Alex, "Seems she has some interesting opinions about who the perp might be."
"Really?" Wallace grumbled, looking Alex up and down. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's the one who did it."
"That would be convenient for you, wouldn't it?" Alex shot back. Wallace grinned at her.
"Keep working on her, Craig. I'm sure you'll get what you need." He turned and headed for his office, closing the door behind him.
"You said you take murder seriously?" Alex asked. Neiliand turned to her. "You might wanna ask how you can help instead of keeping me from what I came here to do." The office phone rang. Webster went to answer it.
"I'm keeping you here so you can't continue to kill," Neiland replied.
"No. You're keeping me from saving lives." Neiland looked at her. Shook his head. None of this was making sense. He got up and started to walk away when--
"Detective?" Neiland turned to Webster, has hand clasped over the receiver. "It's Dr. Ackerman, at the coroner's office. Says he has some info for you."
Neiland shot Alex a look. She turned away.
EIGHTEEN
"Kristen!" Baines cried, jumping up from the couch and rushing over as she stepped through the front door of the parsonage. He pulled her into a huge hug, squeezed as hard as he could. She half-heartedly returned the gesture, not sure what to make of
all the fuss. "I'm glad you're okay. I was so worried!" He pulled away, looked his daughter over.
"I said I'd be back before dark," she said, studying her father's harried expression.
"I know, it's just...I didn't know where you were going, and you never answered your cell. You weren't at the Moorelands when I called..."
"Wait, you were checking up on me?" Kristen broke free of Baines grasp, walked over the center of the room. "Dad, I said I was going out and I was coming back, and that's exactly what I did."
"I know that, but..." Baines said, approaching. He noticed Kristen shying away and stopped, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. He took a breath to calm his ramping nerves. "I'm sorry. You have to understand. You're my only child, and if something happened to you..."
"But it didn't, see?" Kristen interjected with a shrug. "I'm right here, and I'm alright." Baines nodded, holding his hands to signify he was backing off. Kristen dropped herself onto the couch.
"Did you happen to see Alex while you were out there? It's getting dark soon and I haven't heard from her. I tried her on her phone, too, but again, no answer." He shrugged. "I guess today's just not my day."
Kristen started to tell her father the truth, but something in the back of her mind, something curious and petty, worked its way to the front of her consciousness. Sure, she didn't like being checked up on like a little child, but she'd be lying to herself if she told herself she didn't like the attention. She liked that her father cared enough about her to worry about her. But it still bothered her that he cared so much for another person that she knew absolutely nothing about. And if these werewolves hadn't made their presence known, she was all but certain her father would never mention Alex or anything else of his mysterious past as it regarded to werewolves to her. She wanted to know more. She wanted to know just how deep the rabbit hole went. It was those thoughts and feeling that caused her to commit a blatant act of betrayal to someone who had been friendly to her, if not necessarily an out-and-out friend.
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