by Mandy Rosko
Gordon pulled the trigger. The barrel exploded but the blast backtracked without scratching the target. The force of the pellets at close range knocked Gordon off his feet. He landed on his back, bleeding through his buttoned shirt.
"Gordon!"
Bill was at his side first. He put down the moonstone and pressed his hands flat against Gordon's soaking chest. Brock forgot all about delivering Anne from harm and went to him as well, taking her with him.
She didn't care. She wanted to be there. She fell to her knees with Brock, who pressed his hand down on top of Bill’s, trying to stem the blood flow.
Would it even do any good? Blood leaked from his mouth and nose. Not good. Not good at all.
She dragged herself to Gordon's head and his eyes followed her, they were wide and alert. She sensed his fear of death rolling off him in waves.
She wiped the blood from his mouth with the palm of her hand and forced a smile that trembled. Her mouth didn't seem to hurt as much once she found she needed to speak. "You're gonna be alright. We'll get a doctor. A real doctor."
Deep down she couldn't hide her fear that the shot would kill him. She knew he could sense that in her.
His breathe came out in a hideous, gurgled rasp. Anne had to calm her thoughts and concentrate before she realized that it wasn't his breathing that she heard, but his voice. "Whe... shley...'m shrry ..."
Anne gasped, immediately understanding her mistake. The fear she felt in him wasn't of his oncoming death, but of not seeing his son, not apologizing before he died.
"I'll tell him," she promised, her voice cracking with a sob. Twin tears slipped down her cheeks. Gordon was dead before they splashed on his forehead. The stench of death came immediately after.
More tears followed. The glazed look in his eyes turned on a faucet and the water refused to stop. More hands came down to touch him.
Anne flinched away, looked up, and saw Zeke. His arm was scorched and bleeding, but he paid no attention to his wounds as he stared at his dead leader. Fanny leaned her head against his back, sniffling softly and moaning in despair.
Anne raised her head to look over them. Every wolf who survived Hadrian's attack crawled lamely and naked towards the lifeless shell of their leader. The ones with no energy to make the shift stayed in their wolf forms, whimpering at the loss.
She didn’t see Bud among the crowd of injured.
Bill lifted two fingers and closed Gordon’s eyes. The members of the pack who were still wolves, raised their heads and howled.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Hadrian raised his hands and launched another round of red lightning. The wolves scattered to avoid being struck. "I hate that sound! I hate wolves!"
Anne bent her head, trying to shield Gordon's body. She’d forgotten about Hadrian. In their loss, it seemed they all had. She and the people mourning around her sat too close to run and shifting back into wolves would take longer than it would for him to blast them. They had no way to defend themselves. The second he turned his power on them, they were all dead.
Hadrian stopped and looked at Zeke. A red glow surrounded his body, the crazed glimmer returning to his eyes. "Your hair. It's the same color."
"No!" Fanny tried to push Zeke out of the way of the blast but Zeke dug his fingers into the dirt and took the brunt of the hit.
Anne shielded her eyes against the light, the piercing scream the only confirmation that her friend had been fried. When the light died she blinked her eyes open, half afraid of what she would see.
Fanny wept above Zeke's body, shielding it with the way she half lay on top of him. She stroked his jaw and kissed his face. Blood seeped from an open wound in his chest, smearing Fanny's skin and breasts, slipping into her brown hair as it tumbled on his chest while she sobbed.
"Please, lord Hadrian."
Hadrian snapped his head down. Bill stood on his knees, holding out the glowing orb for him to take.
"Take the stone. It was wrong of us to take it from you. Please, I beg that you spare the people here. They mean no harm. Hurt no one else."
Anne inwardly shrieked. That stone meant everything to her grandfather. If Bill gave it to him then he would never see Luna again.
Yet, he was offering to give it up. The fact that he was willing to draw attention to himself and risk being recognized made Anne's heart swell with love and fear.
Hadrian snatched the rock and cradled it to him like an infant. Its delightful glow snuffed out the second his hand made contact. He didn’t seem to notice as his eyes remained fixed on Bill.
They turned into perfect circles as he studied the old man before him.
"Your eyes. They're the same as his. You have the same eyes!" Hadrian raised his hand again, intent on destroying anyone who so much as had any minor resemblance to Edward.
Anne screamed and launched herself across Gordon's body, throwing her arms around Bill's neck. He tried to push her away but she locked her fingers together and refused to let go.
The blast she expected never came. She looked over her shoulder. The red glow Hadrian produced whenever he prepared for an attack disappeared as he stared down at her.
The soft, hurt look in his dark eyes stunned her. His whole face seemed to drop along with his hands that fell limply to his sides. She sensed sorrow radiating from him and puzzled over it.
"Why? Why do you always chose him? I would have offered you everything your heart desired."
The answer clicked in her head, the solution following quickly. Hadrian might believe she was Luna. And, while Bill may actually be Edward, Hadrian still didn't know that for sure.
"This isn't Edward," she said, forcing her swollen tongue not to block any of her words.
Bill's hands gave her a pleading squeeze. "Annie, please,"
"This is my grandfather," she went on, ignoring the pain she felt crashing over her like ocean waves over jagged rocks. Just like those rocks, Anne remained firm and strong, refusing to be moved. "Edward left here. He's not coming back. I love my grandfather. Spare him and I'll go with you."
Hadrian looked from her, to Bill, and back again. Anne felt the heartbeats of every listening pack member speed up in anticipation.
"But, his eyes ..."
"Are not the same," she insisted. "You promised me whatever my heart desired. I desire this." For added effect she released Bill and stood up. Bill grabbed the fabric of her jeans, but she yanked her leg away and approached Hadrian.
She kept her back straight and arms stiff. If her breasts were any more noticeable then she wanted to use that to her advantage as well.
Her hands shook, but she forced them forward. She slid her palms over his hollow cheeks. Hadrian's breath shook as he put both his hands on top of hers, as though savoring the feel of her skin.
Anne fought to keep from making a face as he pressed his pointed nose into her hand and sniffed loudly.
"You'll come with me?"
She swallowed. The action hurt her tongue and her throat. “Yes.”
He gripped her harder. “Tell me you love me.”
She might have felt sorry for him in this pathetic state. She reminded herself that he caused her grandfather a thousand years of heartache, murdered countless men because they happened to resemble her grandfather during his younger years, and maimed and killed at least one member of her pack.
Vision blurred, she nodded her head. “I love you.” Oh God.
Hadrian curled his long arms around her. He stroked her hair and rocked her against him. For all that was at stake, Anne couldn't bring herself to hug him back.
"Thank you, thank you," he muttered. “I love you with every fiber of my being, my beautiful Goddess.”
"Lord Hadrian, she is not Luna!" Bill shouted.
The red light appeared again. Orange fire replaced Hadrian's black eyes as lightning shot from his fist. "Silence!"
The strike engulfed Bills entire body. He fell backwards and clutched at his chest.
"Bill!" Anne struggled to run to him, but
Hadrian's hands became as strong as iron shackles, his nails like eagle talons sinking into her flesh. "Grandpa!" She shrieked.
There was no wound and no blood on the spot where he'd been struck. For a moment a spark of hope burned inside her. She then realized that the hand clutching his chest was not doing so because of the pain of the blast, but because the blast brought about a heart attack.
Brock rushed to his aid, but it wasn't enough. Anne needed to hold his hand. She wanted to call an ambulance. She had to do something! She put all her weight and strength into pulling away, flailing her shoulders and yanking her body. It didn’t help.
"Let go of me! Grandpa!" She yanked one hand free, turned it into a fist and punched Hadrian in the eye. His outcry satisfied her for only a second before he struck her back.
Anne's head flew back, the sky darkened above her, and her entire body tingled. Did he really hit her so hard?
She opened her eyes. She wasn’t on the ranch. Hadrian teleported her off the ranch.
He was taking her to some unknown place with the moonstone. Before she passed out, she registered that there was nothing she could do about it.
FIFTEEN
The door to Gordon's home burst inward as Fanny's foot smashed the knob. She clutched Zeke over her shoulder fireman style and ran for the nearest guest bedroom. She eased him into bed with the tenderness of a porcelain doll.
“I got you, baby. Everything’s alright.”
He coughed and moaned unconsciously. Fanny pressed the bed sheets against his middle where he'd been blasted. "It's going to be okay, baby. You're going to be fine."
Her heart pounded faster when she pulled the soiled quilt away. Now that the blood could no longer spoil the view, she needed to inspect the damage.
The burn from the blast removed the skin like melting candle wax, but the damage was not deep. Fanny was no doctor, but she knew her bonded one would make it.
She bent over him and kissed his cheeks. Breathing deeply through her nose, she tried to inhale the scent of him without smelling blood.
A pack brother stood behind her, she didn't remove her eyes long enough to look at him, or spare her sense of smell to identify him. Instead, she got down to business. "Where did Brock take Gordon?"
The man whimpered at the mention of his dead pack master. "To his room. I left when he started to wrap him up. Couldn't watch it."
It was Paul. She knew him by the sound of his voice. He was born a wolf but he was no warrior. He was a family man. The fact that he could still think properly after the attack was impressive.
Fanny nodded. Paul stuck a first aid kit by her hands and she ripped it open, snatching the gauze and anything else that would prevent infection. "Is Westley with him?"
"No. We can't find him."
Fanny's blood froze. An image of the heir to the pack lying dead somewhere flashed in her mind. There were so many dead, even those precious little horses had been attacked, and a boy no one knew was injured as well. "Was he one of the men who defended the ranch when Hadrian attacked?"
"No," he said. Fanny didn't know whether to let the relief or disbelief take over.
She looked over her shoulder. Paul’s hair was matted with dried blood from where his head had been struck. Dirt and leaves stuck to the blood like paste and blotched his skin in random areas of his naked body. "Why did he not come to help defend us?"
"He wasn't here. Randy saw his truck driving out of the garage only a few minutes before it happened. The dragon was in the back."
"Then I'll have to contact him and get him to come back." She got to her feet and stared hard at her pack brother as she pointed behind herself to Zeke. "Take care of him. I'm going to go and find the others."
She ran out the room and went to where Gordon's body would be.
Paul was right. At the far end of the spacious room on the king sized bed, Gordon's body had been wrapped in a spare white sheet, contrasting sharply with the brown blanket beneath him. It was eerie and reminded her of a mummy.
Brock knelt beside the bed on one knee with his back slouched and head bent, though it didn’t hide the swelling and gash on the one side of his face. Thankfully, it was already showing signs of healing.
His fists pointed down into the rug. In that position he resembled a statue she’d seen somewhere but couldn’t remember. Honor, pride, and strength lay inside him.
A few other pack members stood around the bed or in various other parts of the room. They either looked blankly out the windows or consoled each other. No one touched anything.
Their bodies—bruises, burns, blood—told her they had all experienced the heat of Hadrian's fire. Brock still had yet to get dressed, but it seemed that most everyone else in the room found time to at least throw on a pair of jeans before entering Gordon's room to mourn.
Fanny's face heated since she was not one of those few. Her humiliation left her when she finished scanning the faces of every man and woman in the room.
Michael was not among them.
"Where is he?"
The panic in her voice caused the faces of every werewolf to snap their heads at her. They looked amongst themselves, then down at Gordon's covered body with sorrow.
"Not him!" She snapped. "Where is Michael? The reason we're all here to begin with?"
Awareness seemed to surge throughout the group as everyone took another look at themselves and realized that he was not among their party.
"He's not here. He left us."
All heads, including Fanny's, snapped to Brock. He raised his copper head to stare up at everyone with his ruined face. "I was assigned to watch over him, protect him, by Gordon. I watched him enter this cabin with Westley and when Westley drove off in his truck with the dragon in the back, I knew that he was with them."
A betrayed murmur ran through their group.
"The first, he left us."
"Why?"
"We said we'd protect him."
Fanny could take no more. "Stop this instant!"
All eyes focused on her. She kept her fists clenched. Without a master to guide them, the people in this room were as likely to start panicking like a group of children lost in a mall. She refused to let that wizard do that to her family.
"If Michael left then that's a good thing, it means Hadrian didn't take him when he took Anne."
Another wail of despair sounded through the room.
"He said she was Luna!” One man shouted. “I heard him! He took Luna!"
Fanny exploded at the show of sheepish panic. They were supposed to be wolves for God's sake! "Shut up!"
A pleased ripple shuddered through her when the panicking man fell silent. He stared at her with frightened eyes, as though seeing her for the first time. Everyone else's look mirrored his.
Fanny breathed deeply. "The fact that he took Anne is one more reason why we all need to stay calm. Someone get me a phone so I can call Westley's cell. With Gordon ... gone, he's going to have to lead the pack."
"He doesn't want us. He doesn't want to be our pack master. It's why he left," Brock pointed out unhelpfully.
Fanny ground her teeth together. "I know that. I just want him here until a suitable replacement can be found."
A woman with a knitted throw wrapped around herself scurried from the room. Her speed brought her where she needed to go and back with a phone so quick it was like she never left.
"Thank you," Fanny said, dialing the number on the cordless.
"Before you call him," Brock interrupted before she could hit another button with one of her broken nails.
Fanny lifted a delicate, waxed eyebrow at him. This was the most she'd ever heard the giant man speak.
"There's something everyone in this room should know about what I heard Bill tell Anne and our guest."
"What is it?" Fanny asked.
"The reason why Mike left us. And why I let them leave."
***
Westley slammed on the breaks.
A hand wrapped around Mike's hear
t and dug its razor nails into the beating muscle before squeezing. But it had nothing to do with the dangerous, tire-screeching stop.
What the fuck was that?
Mike had made his call to his partner Jason in Griffon City. He told the man about the situation and where to meet him with as much backup and as many guns as possible.
Jason assured him that it would only take a few hours for them to arrive by air and offer assistance. Mike satisfied himself with the knowledge that everything would be okay now that the law was finally getting involved.
He handed the phone back to Westley, and two minutes later his heart launched into a drumming panic beneath his ribs.
He clutched at his chest and puzzled over the sensation that could only be compared to that of jumping off a cliff and having his guts fly north.
Then, Westley's phone rang again and everything went to Hell.
Westley's face went as white as a blank canvas when he stomped his feet against the break. The tires screamed against the asphalt before the entire vehicle jerked and they were no longer in motion
Mike shot forward, preventing his head from impaling against the dashboard only by the seatbelt. The sliding crash behind him followed by loud, painful cursing, told him that Chris had not been so lucky.
"What the Hell is your problem, kid?" Mike asked, spinning in his seat to make sure that the man behind him wasn't injured. Chris clutched his head but Mike caught no sign of wet blood mixing with his fire engine hair.
The cell phone Westley held to his ear slipped from his hand. It landed on the seat next to him and sprung back in the air. Mike reached out and caught it before it bounced to their feet. He put it to his ear just as Westley leaned his face against the steering wheel and shook.
"Who is this?" Mike demanded.
"It's Fanny."
The window behind him slid open in a furious slam. "Where did you learn to drive? I nearly smashed my face in the—Wes?"
Westley did not reply, or even give hint that he heard Chris calling him.
"What happened?" Mike asked.
Chris jumped out from the back of the truck and opened the driver's side door. Westley still refused to raise his head and acknowledge him. Chris put a hand on his shoulder and tried to turn Westley’s face but the wolf resisted. "Baby, are you alright?"