"You're late," Victoria said, shooting Jake a nasty glare.
"You started without me," Jake said, hauling back on one end of the chain. He tossed the other end to his companion. Together, the two men tightened the slack, drawing the loop taut about the devil's throat. Already weak from her strangulating bite, the krampus struggled to free the restraint.
"Over the pipes!" Jake shouted, tossing his length of chain into the air and over exposed piping. As soon as the ligature dropped, he grabbed the end and applied his entire weight as an anchor.
"Got it!" Skinner heaved his end of the chain toward the ceiling, but his throw fell short by several feet. His side of the restraint went slack and the krampus swung toward him. One of the devil's horns caught the human hunter high on the shoulder. The man fell, screaming in pain.
"Skinner!" Jake shouted, yanking back on the chain in an attempt to control the beast. However, even with the leverage that the pipes provided, his strength was not enough.
The krampus reared back with the screaming man still impaled on his horn. The devil gave a massive shake of his head and sent the hunter flying through the air toward the opposite side of the room. Within seconds, the devil had shrugged off the chains about his neck and broken free.
Victoria regained her feet and executed a standing leap toward the krampus as he turned toward Jake. She caught hold of the devil's horns with both hands and her full weight drove the beast to his knees again. She landed on her feet and used all of her strength to force his head down. He hauled away from her, pulling to one side and then the other, attempting to wrench free.
"Kill it." Victoria spoke from the side of her mouth, snarling as she struggled to maintain her hold on the bucking devil. One of his horns had a slick coating of blood, making it all the more difficult to keep a good grip.
Jake drew a machete from a sheath on his belt. His arm swung high overhead and the wide blade reflected the light before it descended toward the krampus's neck. The knife's edge struck directly across the devil's spine and severed the backbone, but did not decapitate the head. The blow opened a gaping wound, exposing living flesh and glistening bones. Blood poured from the cut.
Wailing, the krampus fell face first toward the floor. Victoria hauled back on his horns, so the neck remained straight, holding him steady for the next blow. The scent of fresh meat flooded her nostrils, causing her empty stomach to rumble, her sides to contract. Through an act of will, she squashed the impulse to feed from the downed beast, because human hunters would react with revulsion.
With a grunt, Jake yanked the embedded machete free of the devil's neck, sending a spray of blood from the blade. The weapon struck the gaping injury straight on the mark, and sliced clean through the devil's neck. The body dropped to the floor, leaving Victoria holding the head by the horns. A fountain of blood continued to flow from the body for another second, leaving the white fur of her feet saturated with dark red fluid.
Victoria tilted the head and looked down at the krampus's face. Red-rimmed eyes stared up at her, bright with awareness, which dimmed and then burned out. She gazed down at the loathsome thing, and her lips twisted into a silent snarl of disgust. She opened her hands and allowed the head to drop. Just before it hit the floor, she kicked it with her foot, sending it flying across the room.
Panting, Victoria dropped to a crouch. Abruptly, her awareness of every wound hit with the force of a freight train. She had three broken ribs, deep gouges across her back and sides, bruises from head to toe. Her body had already begun to heal but it promised to be hours before she felt one-hundred percent again.
Clenching her teeth, she initiated the painful change from her half-wolf form to human. Bones snapped and knitted, her fur retracted into her flesh. Her eyes, teeth and claws returned to normal. The transformation sped her healing, repairing some but not all of the damage. When the process reached completion, she knelt on her hands and knees in a pool of krampus blood, naked and fully human.
She looked up and found Jake Barrett standing over her, the machete raised. His hand clenched about the hilt, a ripple ran along the length of his arm, and for a split second, she fully expected the blade to descend, taking her head.
She met his gaze and waited to see what he would do. She had no fear of death. Her soul belonged to Freya. Victoria's first death had been the result of combat, in service to her goddess, who had returned her to life to serve as Valkyrie.
She tilted her head to the side, exposing her throat. "Kill me and you'll never have your answers about how Daniel died," she said, tone deliberately provocative.
A mask of suffering distorted Jake's features and his mouth contorted into a grimace. "Our deal stands," he said. "On your honor."
"On my honor," Victoria agreed without hesitation. "When Jasper and my pack go free, I'll surrender my life to you."
A stoic expression replaced his agony and he gave a sharp nod of his head. With a violent motion, he sheathed his blade. "Agreed."
Pupils dilated, Jake stared at her. Victoria stood, squaring her shoulders, and returned his gaze. Her nudity caused her no shame or embarrassment. Few shifters were shy. However, the hunter exhibited signs of extreme discomfort as he became aware of her nubile beauty and the effect she had on his body.
Without a word, Jake removed his leather coat and slung the garment toward her. Suppressing the desire to snicker, Victoria caught it out of the air and pulled it on. She pulled the edges together and tied the sash, covering her nudity.
Across the room, the fallen hunter moaned and thrashed about as he struggled to sit up. Victoria and Jake turned toward the man.
"Skinner," Jake said, and hurried to his companion.
Victoria hesitated, torn between helping the man and her instinct to keep a safe distance. After all, the hunter was her enemy, and would as soon kill her as look at her. She owed him nothing.
The soft crying of frightened children caught her attention and drew her toward the cages, dangling from ceiling-mounted chains, which placed the locks well out of her reach.
A burst of annoyance washed over her but swiftly subsided. Grabbing an empty steel drum, she tipped it over and dragged it toward the enclosures, using it as a makeshift ladder.
She approached Michael's cage first. "Shush, Michael, just give me a second and I'll get you out," she said.
Victoria fumbled with the locking mechanism, which involved interlocking tumblers and finger placement. It took her a minute but she eventually got the combination correct. The lock snapped open and she pulled the doors open.
With a whimper, Michael flew into her open arms. She held the small boy close and stroked the back of his head. He stank of filth and fear, but she ignored her distaste to offer him comfort. "Shh, it's okay, Michael. Your mother loves you. She sent me to save you."
"My mother is dead," Michael said. "I saw the monster kill her."
"Her spirit is watching over you." Victoria lowered him to the ground. "No matter what happens, always know that, okay?"
The child gave a small nod of his head. "I know."
"Hang tight, buddy. I'm going to get the other kids free, okay?"
Michael dipped his chin. "I'll be okay."
Brave kid. She felt awful for him. The poor child had no living family to return home to, which probably meant he would wind up as a ward of the state. She wished there was something more she could do for him, but it was out of her hands.
Victoria freed the little girl next, lowering her gently to the ground. "What's your name, sweetie?" Victoria asked.
The girl's stare remained blank for a long moment, and then she blinked and said, "Crystal."
"Crystal, stay with Michael. You're going to be okay."
Unbidden, Michael approached and took Crystal's hand in his own, allowing Victoria to deal with the final cage. She helped a boy no older than four, lowering him to the ground. He stared at her with glassy eyes and never spoke a word. Michael and Crystal joined hands with the youngster, so that the three for
med a fast ring.
A movement alerted her to Jake's presence and she turned, startled to find him close. The man possessed uncanny stealth—few people were able to sneak up on her, especially a human.
The man's features were set into a stoic mask but his gaze remained riveted upon the three children, still clinging to one another in a tight group. His fisted hands betrayed his inner turmoil, alluding to a tightly constrained anger.
Victoria perceived sympathy and horror in his familiar brown eyes. She reminded herself that he was the enemy; no longer her ally. She moved closer to the children, hovering protectively over them, and laid her hand upon Michael's shoulder.
Jake's gaze strayed to the cages and his horror intensified. Upon seeing the conditions the children had been kept in, he swore, "Son of a—"
Her blue eyes narrowed and she shot him a warning look over the top of Michael's head. Her breath hissed between her teeth.
"Beach," he finished lamely.
"We need to get the children out of here," Victoria said, casting a glance toward the decapitated body of the krampus.
"Yeah," Jake agreed, looking down at the trio once again. "Take them outside and tell them to wait. Then come back in. Skinner's shoulder has been run clean through. I've stopped the bleeding and stabilized him for the moment but he needs a healer."
Victoria's expression hardened. "Why the hell would I help him?"
Jake's jaw worked. "It'll go easier on you if you cooperate," he said flatly. "Skinner is my best man."
Interesting—Skinner. Not his oldest living son, Sawyer, but Skinner. She stared at her enemy and then shrugged. "Fine, I'll do what I can."
"You do that." Jake bit off whatever else he might have been about to say—an insult, no doubt. At least he had the sense to realize that he needed her cooperation, if not her good will, to obtain her assistance for his injured friend.
Victoria addressed the three children. "I want you all to close your eyes," she said. "I'll lead you outside."
Michael's gaze darted toward the decapitated krampus, which they had to pass in order to leave. His throat worked as he swallowed, but he held fast to the other children's hands and nodded bravely.
Her heart swelled with fierce pride at his courage. The children closed their eyes and continued to hold hands while she escorted them into the alley behind the restaurant. Just outside the rear entrance, she located her mobile phone on the ground. She stooped, picked it up, and slipped it into a pocket.
"I need for you to wait here," she explained. "A man is hurt and I have to go back inside."
The kids stared at her with fearful round eyes. Michael said, "Don't leave us alone."
Victoria sighed and her gaze strayed toward the back of the alley, penetrating the darkness between the two trash bins. She found the canine form she sought, huddled close to the ground. She whistled softly and patted her knee, issuing a summons.
The Rottweiler whimpered and trotted forward with his head and tail lowered in a show of submission. The kids regarded the animal with open curiosity and no fear. Victoria extended her hand, and the dog pushed his head into her palm, licking her fingers. She caressed the dog's soft ears and leaned forward to whisper to him. "You're to protect these children," she said.
The dog's stubby tail wagged furiously. Lifting her hand, Victoria urged the children closer so they could touch him. "Michael, this is my friend, Rascal," Victoria said. "Go ahead and pet him."
"I've always wanted a dog," Michael said. He was the first to approach, extending a nervous hand to stroke the Rottweiler's head.
The other two children followed his lead and soon enough all three kids were crowded around the animal. She waited for a couple minutes while the youngsters and the dog became acquainted.
"I have to go inside," she said again. "But Rascal is going to watch over you. Will that be okay?"
Michael looked up and squared his shoulders. "We'll be okay."
"I'll be right inside if you need me," she said.
Victoria returned to the interior of the restaurant. Jake knelt beside the unconscious man who lay propped against a wall. Makeshift bandages swathed the hunter's shoulder and his underlying pallor was pale due to blood loss. His heart labored in his chest, each beat a valiant struggle for life.
Without a word, she knelt and inspected the injury. The moment her fingers touched his bare flesh, Skinner's life pattern lit up, allowing her to perceive the extent of his injury. The man's shoulder had been punctured clean through by the devil's horn. She saw every single bit of damage—cut flesh, severed blood vessels, torn muscles and shattered shoulder blade. He had lost an enormous amount of blood and his body was in shock.
Thanks to her training as a nurse, she understood the severity of the man's condition. Her mouth turned down at the corners. "This is worse than you described," she said to Jake. "He's dying."
"I once saw your mother heal a man who'd been all but cut in half," Jake said.
"I'm not my mother," Victoria said. "My skills as a healer are minimal. I can mend cuts and bruises—"
Jake cut her off. "You help him!"
He left the or else hanging but she clearly heard the threat. There was no sense in arguing. The wounded man slipped further from life with each passing second.
Mouth open, Victoria lowered her face closer to the Skinner's shoulder and inhaled his scent. Her wolf surfaced, causing golden light to spill from her eyes, but her transformation progressed no further. A soft glow flowed from her fingertips, illuminating the man's injury. She extended her power and joined her aura to Skinner's, drawing his life pattern into sync with her own, using her heart beat to stabilize his thready pulse.
Even unconscious, the stubborn human fought her efforts to impose spiritual and physical harmony between them. Skinner gasped and his entire body convulsed as he fought to shake off her touch. She had to use her superior strength to hold him down so his struggles would not worsen the wound.
Scowling, Victoria extended an open hand toward Jake. "You know how this works," she said. "I'm already drained from the fight with the krampus and my pack isn't here to help me."
"Fuck that." Jake held back. She scented his disgust and distrust, even as she perceived the swirl of ugly sentiment thick in his aura. However, loyalty won out over hatred, and he grabbed hold of her hand, enveloping it within his callused grip.
The moment they touched, Victoria reached for his power, seeking to forge a temporary bond between them. Normally, she would have been reluctant to attempt a mystical link with a human who she considered an enemy. However, the situation was desperate, and besides, she doubted the connection could survive so much animosity for long.
The force of his personality knocked her for a loop. Victoria gasped and almost dropped the fragile spell bridging their souls. For a mere human, Jake Barrett possessed a staggering amount of personal power. Abruptly, she saw with great clarity how he commanded the obedience of hundreds of men, hunters otherwise unaffiliated to one another except through their loyalty to one leader.
At the center of his soul, she encountered a core of pure pain, agonizing sorrow for the death of his son...and so much anger. She hurt for him and with him, and yet she wanted nothing more than to rip his beating heart from his breast. He had killed her parents and many members of her pack in his vicious act of revenge.
Tears stung her eyes and her throat closed. Through an act of will, Victoria shoved her personal feelings down deep and sealed them behind a wall. Instead of turning from Jake Barrett's hatred, she summoned it, channeling the power of dark emotions, transforming it into healing energy.
Victoria mapped out the major severed blood vessels and halted the internal bleeding. She repaired the most vital veins and arteries first and then strengthened the shattered shoulder blade. Too quickly, she depleted Jake's power and her own, leaving both of them weak and gasping.
Victoria let go of Jake's hand and severed the bond uniting them. She maintained her connection to Skinner lon
g enough to allow her to verify he would live. In terms of magical healing, her work qualified as battle field triage, but she had done what was necessary to keep the man alive until he could receive proper treatment.
She removed her hands from Skinner's chest and allowed the magic to dissipate. "He'll live, for now. You need to get him to a doctor," she said, looking at Jake. "I couldn't fix everything."
The man's expression was unreadable. He stared at her with hard eyes and nodded. "Those kids need to be taken to safety, too. We'll take them in and then we'll go get your boy."
Victoria stood and immediately shook her head. "No. No way," she said. "I'm not walking into an area full of your men and getting shot on sight."
His jaw hardened; his anger returned. "My men will obey me."
She snorted. "Bullshit. I'll bet Sawyer isn't here now because he'd as soon kill me as look at me. You want me alive to answer your questions but he wants me dead."
The last time she had come face to face with Sawyer, he had lobbed a hand grenade at her. She did not expect his next reception to be any warmer.
Jake's nostrils flared but he had the good sense not to lie to her. "Sawyer is convinced you murdered his brother in cold blood. Me..."
He hesitated and her heart leapt at the unexpected ray of hope. If Jake Barrett was willing to listen, then perhaps she could explain Daniel's death. Maybe peace could be restored; maybe no one else needed to die.
"But you?" Her expression remained inscrutable.
"I have my doubts."
Victoria squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled, relaxing marginally. Dangerous, seductive hope... She dare not let down her guard around this man. Her eyes opened again and she asked, "What will happen to the children?"
"For tonight, I'll take them to my sister's place in Sandia Heights. Carol will get 'em cleaned up and fed. They can stay with her until we can take them home."
"How do you intend to reunite them with their parents?" she asked, thinking about how little Michael had no one to go home to, much like her.
The Child Thief (Loki's Wolves) Page 4