“Will!” I shriek. Not even a glance. Crap. Crap.
I find myself doing the stupidest thing imaginable. I open the door and climb out of the car into the killing fields with nothing more than a gun in my hand. For whatever reason, probably because they’re so amused by my misery the others don’t attack or even move as I bridge the gap between us. At least they acknowledge my presence unlike Will. His eyes never leave Patsy, not until I shove his shoulder. “William Price, you get in that car right now. Do you hear me? Get in the damn car! We have to go now, okay?” I say voice quaking. “It’s time to go.”
“I don’t think he wishes to go anywhere with you, Agent Alexander,” Patsy says.
“Shut up,” I snap at her before returning to Will. No matter how hard I try he won’t meet my eyes. “Will? Will, baby?” I say, touching his cheek as she did. “It’s Bea. It’s Bea. Will, please look at me. Please.” His green eyes finally turn my way. But there’s nothing in them. Not love, not hate, it’s as if I’m a stranger. But he’s in there. I know deep down he’s in there. I just have to tunnel through hell to reach him. “It’s Bea, Will,” I whisper, voice cracking. “You know me. I-I’m the girl who drives you crazy, remember? The-The one who you taught to pick a lock. Who not two days ago you brought to this very place, who you made love to right inside. Who you asked to be the mother of your children, who you asked to be your wife. The woman who loves you. Who wants to build a life with you. Who you love almost as much as I love you. It’s Bea.” His eyes jut to Patsy for a moment for validation, but I grab his jaw and jerk his gaze back my way. “Don’t look at her. You look at me, Will Price. Whatever you think you feel for her, it’s just an illusion. Magic.” I take his hand and place it over my pounding heart. “This. This, you and I, what we have is real. I love you. And you love me. I don’t hate you, I don’t fear you, I love you. And I need you. I need you to fight, okay? You’ve taken on zombies, vampires, my psychotic ex, our friends, hell even yourself, I just need you to fight for me one more time, baby. One more time. Then we can go home. Together. Forever. Goddamn it, fight for me, Will Price. Fight for us. Just…get in the car, Will. That’s it. That’s all you have to do. Then we can go home. I want to go home, Will. And that’s with you, baby. You’re my home, and I’m yours. So please get in the car, baby. Get in the car. I beg you. Fight for me. Please.”
He stares down at me with those same vacant eyes, the only change are his rapidly blinking eyes as my words penetrate. They have to penetrate. This is true love, it’s magic can conquer anything. It’s toppled countries, saved lives, there is nothing more powerful in this or any universe. He’s in there. He has to hear me. Come on, baby. Fight. Come back to me. Come on, come on, come on…
No. No.
When his confused eyes jut to Patsy, searching for permission, searching for an anchor, I have to actually will my knees not to buckle. Patsy remains impassive, neither encouraging nor discouraging because she doesn’t need to be. She’s won, and we both know it. I may have the heart of Will Price, but the wolf belongs to her now.
Will removes his hand from my chest, shattering my heart in the process. I literally feel it contort and twist as if it were trying to implode to escape the pain of the moment. I’ve been shot, burned, bitten, broken bones, but nothing, nothing compares to the agony and oppression that swallows me now. Will takes two steps back away from me to join Tim and Jamal. “I’m staying. With my pack.”
“You heard the man,” Patsy says. “He’s made his choice.”
When a triumphant smirk forms across her lips, the world blinks to red again. Bright, all consuming red, that fills my every atom with fury, channeled straight from the bowels of hell itself. It isn’t until the gun in my hand makes contact with her face that I realize I’ve pistol whipped the smirk off. Patsy’s head jerks sideways from the attack. With the fury cleared, panic takes its place. What the hell have I just done? I wasn’t thinking past erasing that smirk. Hell, I wasn’t even thinking. Suddenly, Jamal lurches forward to grab my wrist so hard I drop the gun while Tim and Will move toward Patsy. I’m manhandled, my good arm twisted painfully behind my back and literally brought to my knees, as my fiancée fawns over Patsy, even caressing her cheek. “I’m fine,” she assures them before kissing Will. Deeply. I don’t even exist in his universe. Jamal could cut off my head at this moment and he’d still continue playing tonsil hockey with her. I think I’ve busted an emotional fuse because as I watch them, I’m numb. No disgust, no sadness, I can barely sense the real pain in my arm. Small mercies.
Patsy breaks away first, smiling at Will again. “I’m fine. Truly.” She pecks his lips again before returning her attention my way. All the mirth dissolves from her face, giving way to steely resolve. “That was very, very foolish, Agent Alexander. I was planning to be merciful. One quick snap of the neck. You wouldn’t have felt a thing. Now…” She shakes her head. “Our newest pack mate does need an initiation.”
No matter what she says, this was the plan all along. Have Will hunt and kill me like she had Tim do to Imelda. I just didn’t think it would reach this point. I had faith. In myself. In Will. In the power of love. I’m a damn moron. A dead damn moron. I can barely muster the will to care. Judging from the blank expression on his face, my fiancée shares my apathy.
He’s gone. It’s as if she’s erased every part of him. My Will almost killed a man for talking dirty to me. He’d rip these people limb from limb just for suggesting what she just did. I’m on my own here. I could kill her here and now. Squeeze her heart, give her a brain aneurysm, but there’s no guarantee she’d die instantly, and the others would attack. Flight before fight. I’ve learned that the hard way too.
“Jamal, let her up,” Patsy orders.
He releases my arm so I can stand. I bite my lip to stop the grimace as pain shoots from my side. Of course flight is a hell of a lot easier without three broken ribs. Patsy’s smirk returns at the sight of my agony. “It’ll take us three minutes to change. That should give you a sporting chance.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I say, serious as sin.
Her eyebrow rises. “Are you now?”
“Yes. I am going to kill you. Slowly. Painfully. I am going to kill you. And you are going to suffer like you have never imagined. Whatever you made your victims endure, I will give it back to you threefold. You are going to beg me for the sweet relief of death, you fucking bitch, and maybe I’ll be merciful. Maybe.”
Patsy chuckles and all but Will join in. “Of course you will, dear. Just keep telling yourself that.” The laughter peters out. “Three minutes. Better start running.”
I look at Will, trying to catch his eyes again, but he just stares at Patsy. “Will…?” Nothing. “I love you.” Nothing. “Do you hear me? No matter what happens, know that. I love you. I love you, Will Price. I love you.”
“How sad for you,” Patsy says before dropping her smile. “Run.”
My brain doesn’t want to leave him. It knows this may be the last time I ever see him again, ever speak to him, but my body has no sentimentality. That word acts like a starter pistol. I turn my back on the man I love and take off the way I came, past the SUV where Adrian’s smiling face behind the glass goads me on.
Run.
That isn’t exactly what I’d call what I’m doing. All I’m capable of is shuffling at a rapid pace. I clutch onto my side with my good arm. The pressure improves the pain by about 5%. Have to do. There’s only one option, make it to the road. There—
The screams begin echoing through the frigid night air.
Run.
I reach the road’s bend, finally out of sight of the wailing monsters, and stop a second to catch my breath and remove my cell phone from the sling. “Oliver?” I pant into it.
“Trixie? I am here, my darling,” he says, the relief in his voice palpable. I know how he feels. Tears threaten to spill, but I force them down. “I am here.”
Common sense finally crept out of its ho
le a minute after I hung up with Patsy. Five minutes after that, so I could get a head start, I called Oliver. When it would sound natural I mentioned which road I was turning on so he could track us. With the phone hidden from Adrian inside my sling, Oliver could hear me, but I couldn’t hear him. Heck, the call could have dropped or not even connected, and I wouldn’t have known. But he’s there. He’s coming for me. Maybe there is a God.
“I-I’m at a cabin off Route 7,” I say before beginning my sprint again.
“We know. We have been tracking the GPS on your phone. We are a few minutes out, Trixie.”
“They-They’re changing. I don’t know how much time…I-I’m running toward Route 7. I don’t have my gun. I—”
“Darling, just reach the road and hide. We are on our way.”
“Will,” I choke out. “He—”
“Beatrice Alexander, you reach that road and you hide. Nothing else matters but that, do you hear me? Run, hide, and wait for us. I am coming. You will be fine. I swear it to you. What are you going to do?”
“Run, hide, wait,” I puff.
“Yes. Run, hide, wait. And do whatever is necessary to stay alive until we reach you. Whatever is necessary. Promise me.” I don’t speak. “Promise me,” he orders.
I can’t say it. I don’t want to lie to him on top of all my other crimes against him. I lower the phone and continue up the driveway to the road. Ow. Ow. Crap. I’ve had stitches in my side before, but with broken ribs the pain takes triple time to recover. It’s all of a quarter mile to the main road, and at this rate it’ll take every millisecond of those three minutes to reach it. Ten seconds to gather my strength for every twenty seconds of running. Not a great ratio. Just make it to the road, Bea. The cries and screams behind me grow less and less frequent until there’s nothing but my heavy breath filling the void. Their silence is worse than the noise. The calm before the storm.
Of course anything is preferable to that first bellowing howl. If I had any breath left, that sound would have knocked it out. Crap. Crap. No choice now. I pump my legs as fast as I can, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, helping to diffuse the pain in my side and head. Not well enough. The white splotches in my vision I get just before I pass out from a concussion trouble me the most. I don’t have the luxury of stopping now. What takes me minutes will take a werewolf seconds. I wish I had my gun. Hell, I wish I had a rocket launcher. The second howl spurs me on further. Just keep running.
Oh, thank God. I reach the two-lane road and want to kiss the asphalt. Instead, without breaking stride I cross it, reaching the tree line on the other side hopefully out of sight behind a tall oak. I’d climb a tree if I could find one with low hanging branches. I’m not that lucky. So I just pant and wait as the howls echo. Will’s howl. Will…oh God. He just…that wasn’t him. It wasn’t him, Bea. He is still in there. Deep, deep down, my Will remains. And he needs me. I just have to get him away from her. Stick with the plan. It can still work. Everything will be okay. I can save him. Everything will be okay. It has to be.
The sound of crunching gravel across the street ceases my pants. Crap. Crap. Oh God. The crunching grows louder as whatever is about to appear around that bend picks up its pace. Definitely four legs. Definitely coming for me. Oh God. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Please don’t make me do this. More crackling. Two more wolves behind the leader. Even with a gun, even at my best, I’m not sure I could fend them all off. And what if Will…? This time I can’t stop the tears. A tiny sob escapes before I shove my own hand over my broken nose and mouth to muffle the sound. I sob in silence, my tears obscuring my view of that road. No more. I can’t take anymore. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t… Even through the torrent of tears and the darkness that only the moonlight assuages, I notice the blur sprint around that bend. Charging toward me. Ten yards. Nine. Eight. Okay.
Okay.
I raise my hand to focus my power. Just as the monster reaches the road, close enough to see the whites of his fangs, lights to the left draw both our attentions. Two SUVs with flashing red lights inside zoom toward us. Beautiful. I let out another sob, this time of relief. The wolf, I’d guess Tim from the light hue of his fur, has a different reaction. Instead of continuing after me, he literally turns tail and begins running the way he came. Once again my subconscious proves far smarter than the rest of me. The werewolf gets three gallops in before he stops mid-stride. I think I did that. My sub-conscious is also smart enough to keep the second part of its plan from me.
Just as the first SUV approaches, a blink later the wolf glides into the middle of the street. Though the driver slams on the brakes, it’s too late. Two tons of modern ingenuity careens into the stunned wolf. The yelp and crackling of bones is even more grotesque than the sight of his body contorting as it smashes the front bumper then falls underneath to have the back tires roll over him as well. The second SUV skids to a stop just before running him over too. Jesus Christ.
Jason is first out of the blood splattered SUV, his usual scowl affixed as he stares at the gore and works out what just occurred. Oliver springs out of the passenger door a moment later, not giving the carnage a glance. He scans both sides of the woods wildly, mouth gaping open. “Trixie?” he shrieks in terror. “Trix—”
“Oliver!” I shout. I stumble out of my hiding spot. “Here! I’m her—”
I make it just past the tree line when Oliver suddenly appears right in front of me, pulling me into his arms. Be it the familiar smell, the exhaustion, or those limbs enveloping me, a tsunami of relief washes through me. I all but collapse against his body, hugging him back with what little strength I have left. But the moment I do, his body becomes rigid, and a moment after that, his arms drop as he steps away. I stare up to find nothing but displeasure if not downright ire, at which of us I don’t know. The knife Will plunged into my heart twists. “Oliver, I’m so sor—”
The boom of a shotgun charge cuts short my words. Oliver and I both jerk toward the source. Shotgun first, Jason charges across the road toward the cabin’s gravel drive shotgun first just as a wolf disappears into the surrounding woods. “No!” I shout.
The Alpha ignores my word but can’t ignore my mental grasp. I toss him backwards hard enough he rolls like a log toward the SUVs. Nancy reaches the prostrate Jason before Oliver and I do. He brushes off her help in standing. She’s all but forgotten when he turns to me, that menacing scowl so intense it’d make Chuck Norris pee his pants. The shotgun in his hands is equally terrifying.
“What the fu—”
“You can’t go after them,” I pant, once again breathless.
“Wh—”
“Whatever is affecting Will will do the same to you,” I instruct. “Remember?” That scowl lowers to Defcon-2, so it would only torture instead of kill.
“Hey, guys?” Carl calls.
We all turn toward the idling SUVs that Carl and Rushmore stand by. Carl kneels between the trucks while Rushmore points a shotgun at something obscured by the gory vehicle. Chandler, who scans the tree line with shotgun for bogies, backs toward the cars. His eyes never leave the forest. “This one’s still alive,” Carl says.
Oh I’d forgotten about my attempted murder. We join the others between the cars just as Carl rises. Oh Lord. Werewolf Tim lies twitching on the bloody asphalt, his torso flattened in two places, his tail severed and blood pouring from somewhere underneath him. Perhaps death would have been preferable.
Jason must agree, because the moment he reaches the werewolf, he trains the shotgun on Tim and pulls the trigger, splattering his brains on the road. Nancy shrieks in horror, but I’m too shocked to make a sound. But only for a second. “You executed him!”
“You’re one to talk,” Jason snaps.
“I…didn’t mean to…he…” I have no defense except I don’t think I meant to kill him. Still. I turn to Oliver. “Is that the plan? Execute them all on sight? We only kill when we have no other choice. We’re law enforcement, not a hit squad.
We should at least try to—”
“They murdered another werewolf. Under pack law that is an automatic death sentence in and of itself,” Jason says.
“But Will hasn’t killed anyone!” I desperately point out.
“He was coming to kill you,” Oliver says.
“He can’t help it!”
“It does not matter!” Oliver parries.
“The hell it doesn’t!” I look to Chandler. “Paul…please. There has to be another way. Please.”
Chandler meets my eyes, and for the first time ever, I find sympathy. It quickly vanishes as he turns to the group. “How many tranq guns did we bring?”
“One, I think,” Carl answers. “And the one cage. We were in a rush.”
“Shit. Okay, Nancy you’re taking the tranq. Rush, Carl, Nancy you’re Team B. Oliver and I are Team A. We’ll spread out and search the woods. Chances are they’ll come to us. When they do, we’ll radio in with our coordinates, and Nancy can teleport and tranq the wolf. If possible. But use your best discretion. Take no chances. No matter what.” He pauses. “Or who.”
Rushmore nods before hustling toward the second SUV with Carl behind. Chandler spins around and opens the trunk where a silver cage fills the majority of space save for the crate of silver shotgun ammo, walkie talkies, four pistols, night vision goggles, and three large knives. Crap, no Bette. My stomach clenches again. “What-What about me?” I ask.
“You and Dahl will wait in the car for Wolfe and Adam.” He looks at Jason. The vein in the werewolf’s large neck bulges. “She’s right. We can’t take the chance of you turning on us like Will. Adam either when he and Wolfe get here. You’re the last line of defense. You see a wolf, run it down with the car. That worked well enough.”
High Moon (A F.R.E.A.K.S. Squad Investigation Book 4) Page 25