by Cheree Alsop
I hesitated at the bed. The blankets were rumpled and I didn’t know if she would prefer to be above or beneath them wearing wet clothes. She shivered in my arms and I opted for beneath. I pulled them back with a free finger, then slid her underneath and tucked them around her body. Her face looked pale with her long black hair splayed wetly around her. I put one last blanket above her feet and turned to go, then she said something so softly I couldn’t make it out.
My heart gave a strange sideways thump and I knelt quietly next to the bed so I wouldn’t wake her if she was talking in her sleep. Her eyelids fluttered, but her eyes didn’t open. “Would you stay with me?” she repeated. Her voice was so small and forlorn I had to swallow past a lump that rose in my throat.
After all she had been through, I couldn’t deny her anything. My heart pounding, I walked quietly around to the other side of the bed feeling more like a lurching bear than I ever had before. I climbed as gently as I could on top of the blankets and lay down about a foot from her. I lifted my arm awkwardly, wondering where I should put it, then she turned without a word and burrowed against my side with her hands tucked under her chin. I hesitated, then lowered my arm slowly so that it rested along the outside of her body. She gave a small sigh that sounded like a sob, then her breathing grew steady once more.
I lay in my bed with a girl sleeping against my side. I had never touched a girl, let alone had one in my bed. I told myself that it didn’t matter, she was a Hunter and would no doubt hate me in the morning; but with the midnight stars winking down through the glass ceiling above and the cinnamon scent of the red rocks mixing with her feminine vanilla and sunflower aroma, it did matter. For the first time in my life, someone truly needed me.
My heart lurched at the thought. At Two I told myself I was needed, that the werewolves would fall apart and not know what to do with themselves if I wasn’t around, but we were older now and most were ready to begin their own lives. My parents had long ago made it clear I wasn’t a pivotal part of their existence. No one had ever looked at me with need and loss so bright in their eyes.
The Hunter’s heart beat against mine and I closed my eyes, but sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. My heart raced and I reminded myself that it was alright. I wouldn’t hurt her. I would keep her safe. I had never been so close to a woman. Her scent filled my nose, strange and female, an aroma of flowers amid the musk and brawn of the male werewolves who inhabited Two. My muscles were tight and my arms strained not to hurt her. It would take a mere flick of my wrist to snap her neck. The thought scared me and I wondered why she wasn’t more afraid.
I was a good guy. I kept telling myself that over and over. I saw in my mind’s eye the image of me pulling down her Hunter friends one after the other. I tried to remember that they had come to kill us first, but with her huddled beneath my arm in pain because of their deaths, it was hard to keep things in perspective. Guilt filled me as I watched her breathe, her face serene in sleep. I wondered how she could trust me enough to rest beside me after all I had done.
Her eyebrows pulled together as I watched, a look of pain crossing her face. I hesitated, then touched her cheek softly with the back of my fingers. Her expression relaxed and she rolled closer against me. My heart pounded in my chest at her nearness. Her black hair drifted across my pillow in a soft wave, her head light on my arm. Sleep eluded me as I watched her, awed by her trust and presence. Hours passed and emotions warred through my mind as I held her.
The golden light of dawn filtered through the thick glass of the ceiling by the time she stirred. I hadn’t moved a muscle, the sound of her breathing and the beat of her heart enough to keep me perfectly still so I wouldn’t awaken her. I told myself I was foolish. She had fallen into a deep sleep long ago and wouldn’t have noticed if the roof fell in on her. I wondered if my presence had helped her sleep so well, then told myself that it was her injury and the stress she had been through.
I watched the way the morning light brushed across the curve of her cheek. She was beautiful and graceful, tiny like a dancer but strong willed and ferocious when she needed to be. Her presence set my whole world on a tilt, but I would do it again without hesitation. Her breathing changed and her eyes opened slowly to stare into mine. The regret and anger I expected to see in them never appeared; instead, she watched me in silence and her hand rested on my arm, a simple touch that said so much more than words ever could.
Chapter 4
My cell phone rang a few hours later while I rested in a daze on the couch. The screen said it was my mother and I let out a breath in a slow whoosh. I sat up slowly, closed my eyes, and opened the phone. I pushed the speaker button and set it on the arm of the couch by habit.
“Vance, what on earth is going on over there?” Mom demanded in her usual get-to-the-point way. “Ben told us about the attack, the boys who were killed, and you have a Hunter in your apartment? What on earth are you thinking? You need to kill her right now.”
“Hello to you, too, Mom,” I replied dryly. I could practically feel her wanting to strangle me over the phone and fought back a small, sad smile. “It's been an eventful night.”
“Ben said we lost Sam.”
“And Riff, Jason, and Sy,” I said. My heart slowed with each name.
Mom let out small breath. “How did they find you?”
“By accident. No one else knows we're here.”
“Except the Hunter in your apartment.” I knew by her tone that her hands were clenched into fists and she had her jaw set in the way that always stopped me in my tracks as a child. I was grateful I no longer spoke to her through the computer where I could see her.
“We can learn from her,” I said carefully.
“About what, how to kill werewolves?” Mom asked.
I rolled my eyes and hunched down further on the couch. I winced when the motion pulled at my healing shoulder and sat back up. “I'll be careful. I need to go help Thomas and Ben with the coffins.”
Mom’s voice came softer, “Did you perform the Uniting Chant?”
“For each of them,” I replied. It felt as though a vice gripped my heart. I shut my eyes tightly, willing the emotions to stay locked deep inside.
Mom fell silent for a moment, then she said with a tight voice, “I called Sam's mom.” My heart ached and I heard the quiet sniff that said she was crying but didn't want me to know.
I asked quietly, “How did she take it?”
Mom sniffed again. “Not well. She was mad, then heartbroken. She's trying to gather the others to seek revenge.”
“We killed them.” My stomach turned at the words, but I kept my voice expressionless.
“She wants to go after their parents.” Anger laced through her tone. “I don't blame her, Vance. I would do the same. It sounds like it was a close thing.”
“It was,” I admitted. “I never thought they'd get this far.”
“We're going to have to make some changes at Two.”
I nodded even though she couldn't see me. She took the silence for agreement, told me she loved me, and hung up the phone with the promise to call tomorrow and make sure preparations were taking place.
I closed the phone, then rested my elbows on my knees and buried my face in my hands. The images of my dead friends' faces danced in my mind, their wounds bleeding and eyes lifeless. Tears rose unbidden and slid between my fingers.
“Your mom sounds like a piece of work,” a voice said from behind me.
My fingers found the knife hidden under the cushion and I spun with the blade out to stop a millimeter from the girl’s throat. My heart raced and it took a minute to slow my breathing and force the urge to phase back down. The Hunter’s wide eyes stared into mine, bright with fear and surprise. I lowered the knife.
“Don't you know better than to startle an armed werewolf?”
“I didn't know you were armed,” she said in a strangled voice.
I slid the knife back under the cushion, my eyes never leaving her face. “Always ass
ume I'm armed.”
“I will.”
I couldn't tell if she was serious or mocking me, so I kept silent.
Her eyes searched my face. “Oh, you’re crying,” she said in a tone that was surprised and tender the way someone would talk to a lost puppy.
She put a hand on my shoulder. The gesture was so familiar and sweet I didn’t know how to respond. No one ever touched me, let alone in consolation. Crying and being comforted was a weakness I couldn’t afford. I gritted my teeth and moved away from her hand. “Your Hunters killed my friends. Now I have to send their bodies home to their families.”
She shook her head with regret shining in her green eyes. “They should be alive. We weren't supposed to be here. It was a mistake.”
“One that cost all of us dearly,” I replied softly, thinking of the bodies I had prepared and the quiet, mournful tones of the Uniting Chant. The thought sent a sharp pain through my heart and I had to change the topic. “What's your name?”
She sniffed, then turned her head to look at me. “Nora.”
“I don't think we've been properly introduced,” I said, trying for humor. I held out a hand. “I'm Vance.”
She looked at my hand until I finally dropped it. Her gaze darkened. “I need to go home.”
I shook my head. “I can't let you do that.”
“So, what? You'll keep me here forever?”
I bristled at her tone. “At least you’re alive. I can't let you endanger the rest of the werewolves by letting you go.”
“My dad will come for me,” she threatened.
“According to you, he has no idea you're here.” I held her eyes, my tone dangerous. “I don't think anyone's coming.”
She glared at me for a moment, making me realize that it had been years since anyone had met my gaze with so much defiance. I rose and crossed to the door. “Better get some more rest,” I said over my shoulder. “You need to give your leg a chance to heal.”
I shut the door and stalked down the hall angrier than the situation called for. The Hunter confused me. She could be sweet and needy one moment, then prickly as a porcupine the next. She kept me on my toes when all I wanted to do was figure out how to make Two stronger against attacks. I had no doubts that the families of the Hunters we killed would be looking for them, and we had to be ready if they found us.
***
I hammered the last few nails on Sam’s coffin, then could only sit back and stare at the four wooden boxes. A void filled my chest and it was all I could do to keep from tearing everything apart. With my friends dead, Two possibly compromised, and an unpredictable Hunter in my rooms, there was no peace.
I made my way through the twisted red rock halls to the training rooms. The rooms were empty. I picked up a pair of knives and attacked the first dummy with a smooth efficiency and mindless effort brought by years of practice. I had killed the ten dummies in the room so many times I was almost fond of the wood and cloth forms. I went to the next room and reviewed martial arts with the wooden practice posts. Sweat dripped from my skin and my heart pounded with each hit. My muscles flowed smoothly from one exercise to the next as I had done a million times. I lost myself in the motion. My healing shoulder and back throbbed, but it was a healing ache and I reveled in the pain that crowded the other thoughts from my mind.
“Vance?”
Traer’s voice eventually broke through the numb fog of battle exhaustion that chased away all thoughts but my pretend opponents. I gave him a weary smile and tossed the pair of sticks I had been using back in a pile.
Traer’s eyes tightened with concern. “What happened there?”
I glanced down at my chest and saw that the strain of practice made the bullet wound start bleeding again. My white shirt had a big red tell-tale circle along the front of my left shoulder. I met my friend’s eyes. “Just a scratch from the fight, that’s all.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “It should have started healing by now.” His expression said he suspected something different.
I held his eyes. “If I say it’s a scratch, it’s a scratch.”
He hesitated, then lowered his eyes to the ground and nodded. “Very well. We need to check the Hunter’s wounds and probably change the bandages.”
“Fine.”
He led the way from the room, my Alpha instincts more comfortable with following instead of having someone at my back. Even all the years we had lived together couldn't dampen the survival instincts.
Chapter 5
“How does this feel?” Traer asked in an emotionless tone.
“Could you wrap it tighter?” Nora questioned. At Traer's look, she blushed slightly. “It would help me get around better if I wasn't worried about pulling the stitches.”
Traer glanced at me and at my nod unwound the bandages and started over. His deft fingers made a mockery of the wrapping job I was doing on her arm. When he finished, he glanced at my work, sighed, and rewrapped that one, too.
I leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed my arms over my chest. The position helped ease the healing throb from my shoulder. Nora watched Traer work, an unreadable expression on her face. I couldn't tell if she was afraid of the werewolf or surprised by his knowledge of medicine. She gave a small cough and I realized I was staring.
“I noticed the degrees in the bedroom. Are those yours or do you add plagiarizing to your list of werewolf activities along with slaughtering humans like cattle?” she asked with a bite. She winced at Traer's touch that suddenly appeared a bit rougher.
Traer looked at me with a lifted eyebrow. I gave Nora a steady look. “We only slaughter humans like cattle if they come to slaughter us first. Those are the first humans I’ve ever killed.” Shock widened her eyes. I was surprised at how the look hurt, but pushed it aside. “The degrees are mine. We are all schooled online.”
“I didn’t know you could get a Masters over the Internet.”
I met her skeptical gaze directly. “When you have unlimited funds, long-distance schooling isn’t an obstacle. Schools will do whatever they can to receive the donations my parents provide. I have a Masters in Ancient Philosophy and English Literature.”
“With a Minor in Zoology,” she said quietly.
I nodded. “Not much else to do around here but study and slaughter innocents.”
She looked abashed at my sarcastic tone and I wanted to take it back, but a knock sounded at the door.
“Vance? Search and Rescue is on the radio. They have hikers lost up Sage Canyon and are requesting our help.”
I rubbed the calluses on the palm of my hand and met Traer's expectant expression. The thought of getting out of Two for a while was a welcome distraction. I raised my voice, “Tell Ron we'll be there.”
“Will do,” Drake replied. His footsteps disappeared back up the hall.
Nora looked from Traer to me. “You've got to be kidding me,” she said, her voice thick with disbelief.
“Which part? That hikers are lost or they want our help in finding them?”
I fought back a laugh at Traer's droll tone and met Nora's doubtful gaze. “Believe it or not, werewolves can have a modicum of humanity,” I said dryly. I stood up from the counter and went in the bedroom to change my shirt and grab hiking boots, a compass, and a map. The last two items were purely for show, but appearances were everything when it came to hiding what we really were.
I went back into the living room to find Nora and Traer arguing.
“I just don't think it'd be a good idea. They know us and they don't know you. We don't have any reason for you to come along on something like this,” Traer said. His back was to me, but I could tell by the tension in his shoulders that he was annoyed.
“I could help,” Nora pointed out.
Traer's voice was deep with sarcasm. “By limping up a trail and tearing your stitches?” He paused. “Of course, if you bleed out it really would be helpful.”
Hurt swept through her eyes, but it was replaced by defiance. “For your informa
tion, I grew up in the canyon lands and I've helped on my fair share of hikes. An extra pair of eyes won't hurt.”
He gave a slight laugh. “It's not eyes we need. We've got it covered.”
“I don't think it'd hurt if she came,” I said quietly from the doorway. The thought of leaving her alone with the other werewolves wasn’t a pleasant one. The chance of the Alphas entering my room didn’t seem a long stretch after what we had been through.
Traer turned, protest on his face. “She'd slow us down.”
“I would not,” Nora countered.
“You think you could keep up?” I asked seriously.
“If you can,” she shot back, her eyes flashing.
The doctor glanced at her and I saw a brief, reluctant glimmer of humor at her attitude. Our friendship gave him some leeway, but none of the other werewolves dared to talk to me like that.
I shrugged. “You come at your own risk.”
“That's how I prefer it,” she replied.
Traer rolled his eyes and left. I moved to follow him into the hallway, but she stopped me.
“Uh, Vance?” My heart gave a faint thump at the way she said my name, hesitant, yet familiar.
I turned back slowly. “Yeah?”
“Do you happen to have some pants I could borrow?”
I smiled at the thought of her hiking in her shredded jeans. “I'll find something.”
She met us outside a few minutes later in a pair of my sweat pants and a dark blue tee-shirt. Both were too big for her, but she did her best to make them work by rolling the pants at the ankles and waist and tying the shirt on one side. Traer gave a barely stifled sigh of annoyance, and Max and Seth, both in wolf form, avoided looking at her. I motioned for them to jump into the back of the jeep.