One Second (Seven Series Book 7)

by Dannika Dark

  A call followed by a long note meant they were dead. A short note meant they were out of range.

  “Damn this fog!” I whispered.

  Reno withdrew his weapon. “Fog is our friend. Get back in the hole.”

  “Stay safe,” I whispered before heading back.

  Reno intervened when William tried to join me. There was a low argument before they settled it. Austin had only paired us up for the night, and William had to follow orders from the second-in-command.

  As I neared the hatch, I glared up at Denver’s tree stand but didn’t see any sign of him through the cloud of fog. Once I lifted the heavy lid, the real challenge was sliding my ass inside without falling and having the stupid thing whack me on the head.

  Once inside, I propped the hatch up a couple of inches. Reno had painted all the metal so it wouldn’t catch in the sunlight.

  Someone screamed in the distance, and a man barreled past my line of vision at breakneck speed. I heard a series of muffled clicks echoing from a silencer.

  Denver landed on the soft ground below his hideout, looking in the direction the rogue had gone. His shirt was solid green and matched the beanie covering his blond hair. Everyone had different gear, and those who stayed up in the trees wore darker greens to blend in.

  He signaled me to stay put and quietly stepped around the tree to scan his surroundings. Denver could have run after the guy, but Austin didn’t want us impulsively chasing anyone.

  An arrow sliced through the air and struck a tree. If the archers were this close, it meant the rogues were circling the area.

  I removed the gun from my holster and set it on the bench to my right. I didn’t have a silencer like some of the men.

  “Sons of bitches!” Denver hissed.

  He hopped into sight and yanked something out of his leg, staring at it for a brief moment before tossing it to the ground. The reflective properties caught my eye as the unmistakable shape of a silver dart.

  Denver ripped his pant leg all the way up and used a knife to cut where the dart had gone in. He squeezed hard, and blood trickled down his leg. Denver had a look that telegraphed his thoughts loud and clear, and he was thinking: This shit is not going to work. My ass is Jell-O in about five minutes.

  He continued massaging with his hands, forcing the blood out. Then he ripped the pant leg all the way off and made a tourniquet above his knee.

  Shifting to heal wasn’t an option since a tranquilizer affected his wolf as much as it did him. I’d be surprised if the man could tie his own shoe once the drugs kicked in. Denver collapsed by the tree trunk and retrieved a plastic baggie from his pack. Reno had distributed caffeine tablets to use during our shifts, and Denver was eating them like candy.

  Another arrow whistled through the air, ricocheting off a branch and landing in the soft earth ten feet ahead. When Denver crawled out of sight, I gripped my gun.

  Fog drifted through the woods like layers of smoke from a distant fire, and the smell of wet earth filled my nose. A shadow skulked behind the trees, but I couldn’t be sure if it was friend or foe. My heart slammed against my chest as the shadow darted to another tree even closer. When he held the dart gun and aimed it at Denver, I set my gun on the ledge and fired.

  The door slammed shut—either from me jumping or from someone stepping on it. My heart raced as I sat in darkness, listening for sounds of struggle or fighting.

  I raised my arms and aimed the gun when the hatch door suddenly flew open.

  “Put me out of my misery,” Denver groaned.

  I lowered the gun and took a breath. “I almost shot you.”

  Denver began singing “You Give Love a Bad Name” by Bon Jovi.

  Reno appeared and covered his mouth. “Put a lid on it.”

  When he removed his hand, Denver sang, “If you liked it then you should have put a lid on it,” while shaking his butt.

  I set the gun on the bench and climbed out of the bunker. “They shot him in the leg with a dart. I think he’s drugged.”

  “No, he’s just an ass,” Reno said, snapping his fingers at Denver to be quiet.

  Denver’s eyes glazed over, and he stared at his own fingertips.

  Wheeler walked by with a dead man draped over his shoulders.

  “Where’s he going?”

  “Can’t have dead bodies or the scent of blood where we’re hiding. Better to take them downwind.”

  “Denver bled on the tree.”

  “The fuck!” Denver exclaimed. “Stab me in the back, why don’t you? Whatever happened to sisterhood?”

  Reno sighed and faced me. “This is problematic.”

  “Knock him out,” I suggested.

  Denver’s eyes widened right before he began singing an old rap song by LL Cool J.

  “Denny!” Maizy scolded, keeping her voice low as she rushed toward him. “I can hear you all the way across the hill.”

  “Babycakes!” He opened his arms wide and stumbled toward her. “Give me a kiss and make it better.”

  Maizy slapped him. “Snap out of it before you get us all killed.”

  Denver’s eyes dulled with disappointment, and he staggered toward his tree stand. His paralyzed right leg left a trail behind him in the dirt.

  “My Peanut doesn’t love me anymore,” he said sullenly.

  Maizy rolled her eyes. “What happened?”

  I kicked at the silver object below. “Dart gun, but unfortunately for us, the sedative wasn’t strong enough.”

  “Do we have anything to put him out?” she asked Reno.

  I shook my head. “Not sure if that’s a good idea. He ate a bunch of those caffeine pills.”

  Reno’s shoulders sagged. “How many?”

  “Have you ever seen that man eat a roll of candy?”

  Denver made a melodic sound I recognized as the opening chorus of “Kung Fu Fighting.”

  “How many rogues were there?” I asked Reno, ignoring Denver as he executed karate chops while performing his rendition of the classics.

  “We spotted two scouts, and a third one came in behind them. That was your target. Nice shot, by the way,” he said with an approving smile.

  “Score one for the pregnant lady.”

  Maizy desperately tried to quiet Denver, but he continued singing while peeling off his shirt and imitating Bruce Lee. When he tried to kick with his paralyzed leg, it made him look like a beached dolphin. I heard one of the boys laughing in the distance.

  “Back to your posts!” Reno shouted.

  I searched our surroundings. “Where’s Austin?”

  “Helping Wheeler with the bodies.”

  “Why didn’t Axel’s men warn us?”

  Reno rubbed at some of the dark smudge on his face. “Scouts are harder to catch since they travel in small groups, but they’re not usually skilled fighters. We figured a couple would get through—that’s why Austin split us up. They won’t keep sending their men in small groups; they’re too easy to pick off. When they think they’ve got enough information, they’ll come all at once.”

  “Or not at all, if their scouts don’t report back.”

  I glared at Denver, who had his arms around Maizy’s waist and was trying to dance with her. She stumbled over her bootlace, and they fell to the ground.

  “Austin kept one alive.”

  “I thought you said he was helping move the bodies?”

  Reno nodded. “Soon-to-be-dead body, once we get what we need.”

  I shuddered.

  Wheeler appeared, panting heavily and staring at the man slumped over by the tree. “Remind me not to piss you off,” he said to me. “How far away were you? That’s a clean shot into the heart.”

  “I don’t want to know,” I murmured, feeling queasy all of a sudden.

  Maizy wriggled out of Denver’s arms and wiped off her pants. “I need to get back to my post,” she said, clearly flustered, her braid swinging with leaves stuck in it.

  Wheeler strolled over and settled his gaze on Denver’s b
loody leg. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Did you get a boo-boo?”

  Denver hurled a clump of dirt at him. “Shut it. You’re just jealous because I’m the pretty man in the family.”

  “How would the pretty man like to be tied naked to a tree by the stronger man?”

  When Denver threw a rock at Wheeler’s head, Wheeler grabbed Denver by his lame leg and dragged him toward the tree.

  “Let go of me, dickwad!” Denver shouted, flailing like a fish out of water.

  Wheeler laughed darkly. “I think I hear the sound of banjos.”

  I rubbed my face and turned to Reno. “If someday I ever have to tell the story about how the Weston pack valiantly fought against the Northerners, I’m leaving this part out.”

  Reno touched his earpiece. “Austin relayed the message to Axel’s men. A couple of them spotted cars moving along the roads that lead out here.” He paused for a moment, still listening. “Got it.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Wheeler, get this damn corpse out of here,” he shouted. “We got more coming in.”

  Wheeler tossed Denver’s boot into the bushes and stalked off to dispose of the body.

  Reno covered the drag marks Denver had left behind by using his foot and a long branch to scatter the leaves. “A group of men confronted some of Axel’s pack, and they got into it. The rogues aren’t sure if Axel’s men are locals or here to claim land. Either way, they’re obstacles.” Reno picked up the dart and studied the tip. “When I shoot, I shoot to kill. Apparently, they have other intentions if they’re using darts instead of bullets.”

  “Anything else?”

  I didn’t like the look in Reno’s eyes, especially when he dodged my question by turning away.

  I grabbed a handful of his shirt. “What else?”

  He turned his head to the side, his eyes downcast. “Judas’s men hit Dallas and Houston. Looks like they’re coordinating an attack against the big cities. The snowball is rolling down the mountain, and there’s no stopping it.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Stay out of sight until we know what we’re dealing with.”

  We both watched Denver trying to put his boot on, but he couldn’t bend his leg.

  “Better put him in the bunker with me,” I said. “I don’t think sending him up that tree is a good idea unless you want DJ Denny to welcome our guests with a song.”

  “Good point. Make him sleep it off whether he wants to or not. Both of you need to eat something. We have time before the second wave, so fuel up even if you’re not hungry.”

  I approached my packmate and held out my hand. “Come on, Denver. Looks like we’re roomies for a little while.”

  His eyes widened when he noticed my round belly. “Have you been eating watermelon seeds?”

  ***

  Denver slept for hours, although I had to suffer through his whispered singing of every song that popped into his head, and most of them were cartoons or songs from the eighties. Somewhere around INXS or Bobby McFerrin, he’d finally dozed off.

  I had another sharp pain while he slept, but I breathed through it and stayed calm, remembering the Relic’s warning about stress.

  Shortly after eating a handful of almonds, I heard a peculiar sound coming from outside the bunker. I lifted the hatch and peered through the crack, the dimming light telling me it must have been late afternoon.

  “Denver, wake up,” I hissed. “Denver.”

  “Mmm… muffins,” he murmured incoherently, rolling away from the light.

  Oh, for the love of God.

  I removed the cap from my water and squeezed the bottle, sending a giant splatter onto his pants.

  Denver shot up, eyes wide, his hair disheveled. He glanced down at his wet crotch, lightly touched it, and then sniffed his fingertips.

  “You didn’t wet yourself,” I whispered. “Something’s going on.”

  He blinked several times and crawled to the bench, resting his chin on the wall and peering through the crack.

  I pointed in the direction of the sound. He tapped his finger against his lips, signaling to stay quiet. I reached for the dagger and strapped it around my waist with the gun. Denver put on his shirt and then lifted his pack, ready to move. I handed him his hat, and he pulled it over his head, tucking his hair beneath it.

  “Any dove calls?” he whispered.

  “No.”

  We both stood up, and I held the door while he quietly stepped out and ran for cover, still missing one pant leg.

  I sat back down with only a two-inch gap to watch the action and finished off my water. When I bent over to set the empty bottle down, something whizzed by and hit the cinder block behind me, making a pinging sound on the floor.

  A silver dart rolled into the shadows, and my eyes widened. When I braved a quick peek through the crack, I spied a man aiming a gun at me. I ducked just as another dart struck the wood door.

  “Shooter!” I screamed out, lowering the hatch door. It slammed shut, and chaos erupted outside.

  Fuck dove calls; this guy was trying to take my head off. I didn’t have time to cup my hands and blow out a warning. I gripped the handle overhead and pulled hard.

  Four shots fired, and Katharine yelled, “One down!”

  Pregnant or not, my family was up there. Torn between two decisions that could save lives, I raised the hatch door and peered out again. Austin ran by, disappearing into the fog, but everyone else was gone.

  “Dammit!” I whispered. “Too big to climb a tree, too fat to run.”

  My breath caught when a man in black stepped out from behind a tree and into a strip of sunlight that had pierced through a breach in the branches overhead. He was hunting Austin, and my eyes fixed on the serrated knife in his left hand.

  I shoved my gun through the crack, aimed, and fired. The man went down, and I shot again, his body twitching. “One down!” I cried out, feeling like I could do a victory dance if it weren’t for the fact I couldn’t stand up in this damn hole. I slammed the hatch door shut, a rush of adrenaline surging through me.

  When the door wrenched open, I raised my arm and fired the gun. April flew onto her back, and I trembled in horror.

  “No!” I emerged from my hideout and fell at her side.

  She grimaced, blood staining her left shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m immortal,” she rasped.

  “I shot you!” I exclaimed.

  April reached for a strip of sunshine, and it danced on her fingertips. After a few moments, she sighed and sat up as if nothing had just happened. “You owe me, then. Next time I play hooky from work—”

  I pulled her collar away from her shoulder. Her smooth skin had only a smear of blood, but there was no wound. I poked my finger through the hole in the fabric.

  “Charlie taught me how to heal months ago. Just don’t tell Reno you shot me.”

  I sat back in stunned silence.

  Her hazel eyes sparkled with humor. “You change into a wolf. Why should this be any stranger?”

  “Why aren’t you at your post?”

  She wiped the dirt off her pants and stood up, helping me to my feet. “Austin and Jericho are creating a diversion so we can change locations.”

  “How many did we get?”

  She looked back at the body. “That makes ten I know of. I got two.”

  “You’re not even armed.”

  “I told you I don’t like weapons,” she said in a huff.

  April gathered my gun and bag, and we walked in an easterly direction.

  I slowed my pace a step and glanced to my right, noticing the hole in the back of her shirt.

  April locked arms with me. “The energy blast I can do is pretty nifty.”

  As we climbed a short hill, I struggled for breath. We’d rehearsed different locations to move to based on how the rogues might attack. Reno also didn’t want to lock us in one spot, thus making it easier for the rogues to pick us off.

  Several minutes of hiking, and I would have th
rown my heavy backpack into the river had it not been filled with needed supplies.

  I gripped the strap on April’s pack and yanked her aside. “Careful, there’s a trap on your right. See the mark on the tree?”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  We continued walking. “Remember where you are at all times, even if we have to run. One of Prince’s friends helped construct them, and some of them have steel traps at the bottom.”

  “Don’t move,” a man said from behind. “Stay right where you are.”

  Sticks and leaves crunched beneath the tread of the man circling around us. When he came into view, his gun was aimed right at my chest.

  April stepped in front of me and held up her hands. “We’re not armed.”

  Well, that was a complete lie. Especially considering her hands could rival any weapon.

  “How many of you are there?” he asked. His eyes were barely visible behind blond lashes, and his skin was so ruddy that he looked sunburned. But it wasn’t his stout physique that made me nervous—it was the fresh blood on his pants when he had no apparent wounds.

  April scanned the trees above where fog erased the sunlight. She could only heal by the light of another Mage or the sun. It was possible for her to use our energy, but she’d never risk putting my life in danger since taking too much could kill me.

  “Throw your bags on the ground,” he ordered.

  We both slid the straps off our shoulders and tossed the camouflage packs to our feet.

  The rogue squinted, staring at my belly. “Lift your shirt.”

  I folded my arms. “I assure you, I’m pregnant.”

  “Yeah? What else are you hiding in there? Lift it up slowly. Nothing funny, or I’ll shoot your friend.” He swung the gun at April and my heart skipped a beat.

  Holding my hands up, I said, “I’m armed, but you look a little trigger-happy, and that makes me nervous about reaching for my belt. Can you lower the gun while I do this?”

  “I’m supposed to kill you after I search you for weapons, phones, and notebooks.”

  “And that’s supposed to make me want to disarm a little bit faster?” I said, irritated.

  His hand lowered, and he snarled, “Does this make you feel better?”

  He’d barely finished the words when an arrow sliced through his neck from left to right. His gun fired, and a clump of dirt exploded to my left. April flashed at the man, blasting him with energy and putting him out of his misery.