Oh, thank God. If Robin’s mouth still works, she’s fine.
Kell turned like an arthritic eighty-year-old, shifting his entire body around to keep his back rigid. She stood in the doorway, naked as the proverbial jaybird — or eagle — and righteously pissed, with one hand propped on her hip, the other clutched tightly against her stomach.
Kell blinked. “You OK?”
“Hello, do I look OK? My fucking arm is broken, thanks to this overgrown” — she stomped on Michael’s bare back to get to her clothes — “wildebeest of a wolf. How Mori turned out so normal is beyond me.”
She snatched up her jeans but couldn’t put them on one-handed.
Oh shit. Has it come to this? “Need me to help you put on your pants?” He couldn’t quite imagine how that scenario would work, but he felt the need to offer and prayed she had a better idea.
“If you come anywhere near my ass, I’ll cut off your—” She spun around. “Where’s Mori?”
Hell if he knew. She could have driven halfway to Houston in the time it had taken him to stand up. “See if you can find her while I try to wipe down the office. We need to get out of here before Benedict wakes up and we have to do this all over again. She ran out when I shot him.”
He thought about the blood on her wolf’s coat. “She might be hurt.”
“I saw her shift for just a second before I got slung halfway to Mexico through a flipping window.” Robin picked up a shard of glass and lobbed it at Michael’s head. She stomped on his back again before heading toward the hallway with her clothes and shoes, stopping to pick up Mori’s stuff. “Her wolf was beautiful.”
Yeah, it was. And she was still Mori. She’d known him, and she’d listened to him.
Kell hobbled around the room, using Benedict’s shirt to wipe down the surfaces of anything they’d touched. The psycho wouldn’t call the police, but there was no point in taking chances. Even with most of the island evacuated, someone might have reported gunfire.
“You ready?” Robin returned a few minutes later, fully dressed, and Kell saw Mori leaning against the wall of the hallway, her gaze fixed on the floor. Smears of blood crossed one cheek and the side of her neck, but it was drying. And she hadn’t run away.
Kell nodded, but a spasm hit his back when he turned to scan the room one last time and make sure nothing had been left behind. A sharp gasp escaped before he could stop it. Damn it, he didn’t have time for this.
“Here.” Mori edged around Robin to enter the office, grabbed his hand, and pulled his right arm around her shoulders. “Put some of your weight on me.”
She could pick him up and carry him, and they both knew it. But at least she was letting him save face.
They made slow progress down the hallway, trailing behind Robin. There was no reason to be quiet now, so they took the elevator. Good thing, because Kell wasn’t sure he’d make it down two flights of stairs — at least not on his feet.
Twice, Kell tried to make eye contact with Mori, but she wouldn’t look at him. She stared straight ahead or at the floor. They needed to figure out their next move, but in order to do that, she needed to talk to him.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Eyes straight ahead. No emotion.
“Are you pissed off that I asked you not to kill him?”
“No. You were right.”
Kell huffed and pulled his arm away from her, wavering a few seconds while his legs decided whether they were going to hold his weight or collapse. He stayed upright. “Then fucking talk to me already.”
Robin had been silent on the elevator ride and was almost to the back door into the parking lot when she stopped abruptly and turned. “Listen, you two.” She waited a second, her eyes blazing. “Well, are you listening?”
Kell crossed his arms over his chest, stretching his back muscles in all the wrong ways, but he’d be damned if he’d let them see it. Damned women. “What?”
Robin pointed a finger at Mori. “She’s embarrassed because you saw her consider eating Michael’s throat out like a bowl of spaghetti. She thinks you’ll see her as a monster now, and for some insane reason, she cares what you think.”
She shifted the finger to Kell. “And you’re too damn dense to see it.”
Finger back to Mori. “He doesn’t think less of you. He thinks you’re beautiful. He likes your wolf.”
Finger back to Kell. “Tell her you like the wolf, asshole.”
Kell started to protest that Robin was full of shit, but he slid his gaze to Mori and realized his team member was right — about both of them. Mori met his glance with a fraction of a smile.
He reached out and scraped a fleck of blood off her cheek. One of his bullets had fragmented, and some of the cuts looked like they’d come from shrapnel. “I do like your wolf. Benedict would have killed me if you hadn’t gone after him.”
She shook her head. “I wanted to kill him. If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have.”
“Believe me, I considered taking him out myself, right before Robin came in.”
She looked up at him and must have seen the truth in his face, because her shoulders visibly relaxed.
“Hallelujah. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Robin threw her good arm up in the air, turned, and barreled through the door. She held it open while Mori helped Kell through.
The clouds had moved ashore while they were inside, the wind strong and steady from the south, rain spitting in fits and starts. Spotting them from the front seat of Nik’s SUV, Gator began howling.
“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Robin held out her hand. “Give me the keys to Archer’s truck.”
“Who made you boss?” Kell frowned at her, then chastised himself. Damn it. If they’d followed his orders earlier today, he’d be the one lying on the floor in the Tex-La building, only he’d be dead instead of unconscious. “OK, sorry. What’s your idea?”
Robin arched a brow at him and grinned.
Insufferable eagle.
“I need to see someone who can set my arm — one of my people’s healers.” She looked out at the water, which was the same gray color as the deepening sky. “You guys go on to the cabin. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Benedict. He doesn’t know me, so it’ll be easier.”
“What do you think?” Kell turned to Mori. See? He was getting better at this delegating-and-asking-for-input thing.
“Makes sense. I told Robin earlier we should take the Bolivar ferry and drive into Louisiana that way instead of going back to Houston in all that traffic.” She turned to Robin. “Since you’re being blunt, so will I. Can you reach the gas pedal of Archer’s truck?”
Kell bit his bottom lip and looked at a tree behind Robin’s head. He could imagine the outraged expression she probably wore, but if he saw it, he’d laugh. If he’d asked that question, she would have had his balls in her talons before he could take a breath, but she seemed to be ignoring Mori. He held out the keys, still avoiding her face.
“Don’t worry about it.” Robin grabbed the truck keys from Kell, handed the SUV keys to Mori, and walked away. “I’ll call you.”
“Want me to drive?” Kell asked Mori, but when he looked back at her, she was already halfway to the driver’s side door. “Guess that’s a no.”
He grabbed his duffel from the back of Archer’s truck, hobbled to the SUV and, after a couple of false starts, managed to get in the passenger seat, ass first. “I hope the ferry’s still running.”
“So do I, and I hope it’s running fast.” Mori’s voice sounded high-pitched and jittery. He looked at her, then followed her gaze to the upper floor of the Tex-La building. Silhouetted in the window of what had to be a third-floor back office, looking out at them, was Michael Benedict.
CHAPTER 30
Mori white-knuckled the SUV eastward along Seawall Boulevard. The traffic was almost nonexistent, although a few hardy, foolish souls remained on Stewart Beach, playing in the high waves, even trying to surf. Most of the restaurants and busine
sses had nailed plywood over their windows or were in the process of doing it.
She turned north on Ferry Road, praying to whoever might be listening that they weren’t too late. The state would shut down the ferry system once the water got too rough. And she and Kell needed to move fast. Michael would come after both of them now. Before today, Kell had been an irritation, a means Michael could use to control Mori. Now, he was an enemy.
But Michael would be expecting them to ride out the storm in Houston, not ferry across Galveston Bay and drive the length of the narrow, isolated Bolivar Peninsula into Louisiana. He was already conscious, obviously, but those wounds would take a while to heal, even for a Dire of his strength. He was arrogant enough to wait, thinking they’d be cowering in fear.
“There’s a ferry at the terminal, but no line of cars waiting to get on it.” Kell leaned forward to get a better look through the rain-spattered windshield. He tried to hide it, but Mori saw the slight wince of pain even such a small movement gave him. They needed to get wherever they were going and let him take the strain off his back. In that sense, the hurricane might turn out to be a blessing. It should halt everything for at least a couple of days. They could mend, and they could plan.
One car, a small red sedan, was stopped in front of them at the gated entrance ramp onto the ferry, its driver talking to a Texas DOT worker wearing a yellow slicker. A second guy approached and signaled for Mori to roll down her window.
His round face was weather-beaten and reddened from being pummeled by the hard spits of rain. “We got the weather service and state DOT on the line now, seeing if it’s safe to make one more crossing. Ferry captain will have to make the final call, though. Any reason you folks can’t drive north to Houston and travel that way?”
Mori’s mind raced through the communities she knew along the peninsula. “My grandparents are in the Gilchrist area, and I need to get them out while there’s still time. It’ll take too long to backtrack to Houston, and you know what happened during Ike.”
Gilchrist had been utterly destroyed, that’s what happened, with only a single house left standing and most of the residents who’d stayed to ride it out swept into the sea. Mori knew the community was mostly gone, but there were always a few stubborn residents who’d refuse to give up on their narrow strip of paradise.
The DOT guy’s gaze scanned Mori’s face, then he bent over to look in at Kell. “If you don’t mind me saying so, ma’am, both of you look like you need a doctor more than you need to get to Bolivar. We’re still more’n twenty-four hours out from landfall, but that wind’s gonna start pushing water over the coastal road when high tide comes in, if not before.”
Kell leaned over, wedging his blood-covered left hand between the seat and the center console, out of sight. “Sir, her grandparents are disabled, and we really need to get them out. Do you at least know anyone out that way who could get word to them if we can’t cross? Make sure they have food and water if their house survives the storm surge?”
Mori nodded. “They haven’t had phone service since Ike.” She feigned a worried look and added, “Please?”
“Jiminy Christmas. OK, wait a minute.” The guy got on his walkie-talkie and walked a few yards away, waving his hands in the air as he talked. Mori heard the words “grandparents” and “Gilchrist” and “Ike.” Her hope swelled when he walked to the small car in front and talked to his coworker.
Mori didn’t dare speak or look around at Kell. The tenser they looked, the better. And her tension level was off the charts.
Finally, the guy gave them a thumbs-up, and Mori released a breath as he approached the window again. “Captain says he’ll do it, but it’s going to be rough. It’ll be our last run, and then we’re shuttin’ down till the storm blows through, so you’ll have to take your grandparents out on the road north into Beaumont. You folks be careful.”
Mori thanked the transportation worker and raised the SUV window, then used her left arm to wipe the water off the vehicle’s interior. Nik already disliked her; letting mold set up inside his SUV wouldn’t improve his opinion.
She finally looked over at Kell. “Good acting job.”
He smiled. “Hey, you got it started. I wouldn’t have even thought about the endangered-grandparent story. What made you think of it?”
“I’ve been on the peninsula a lot. There are lots of wildlife refuges and protected lands along there. I like to go over and…” She paused, not sure how to explain.
“To let your wolf run free?” Kell rested his head against the back of the seat as the gate onto the ferry opened. “Makes sense.”
Mori drove the SUV onto the ferry ramp and followed a rain-soaked worker’s directions, parking the car in the middle of the vehicle on the opposite side from the red sedan that had been in front of them. The ferry was a broad blue-and-white ship that could park three rows of cars along either side of the tall central staircase that led up to an observation area. Today, it parked one car on each side.
Mori thought the ferry would sit at the terminal a few minutes longer and see if other vehicles arrived, but the captain wasted no time. The ship hitched like a hiccup underneath them in less than a minute, and they began moving. She glanced over to see how Kell was doing, but his eyes were closed.
It gave her a chance to look at the left hand now resting on his thigh. Most of the blood had dried, but the oval of holes in the shape of Michael’s bite still oozed, and the pinkie finger was crooked. Definitely broken. Maybe the ring finger, too. Both were so swollen it was impossible to tell for sure, and underneath the blood, the skin was turning purple.
The roiling waves of the Gulf swelled toward Galveston Bay through the narrow gap between the eastern end of the island and the western point of the peninsula. The crossing usually took about twenty minutes, but Mori figured the ferry captain would be hauling ass to get to Bolivar and back while he could still navigate.
The ferry took a sickening dip to the port side, leaving the SUV leaning at a precarious angle, driver’s side down. Then it righted briefly before tilting in the other direction. The SUV was heavy and solid, but it swayed with each blast of wind coming off the open water.
Kell groaned. “I’m gonna heave if this lasts too long. How far is it across?”
He did look kind of green.
“Less than three miles. Think you’d feel better up on the observation deck?”
“Are you insane? If I’m gonna drown, I’m going down strapped to this seat.”
Mori laughed, but it was more bitter than amused. “Wouldn’t it be ironic if we survived Michael, only to die in a ferry accident?”
He turned his head to look at her, not smiling. “We’re going to get through this.” His voice was soft. “When we get to Cote Blanche, we can relax for a couple of days and figure out how to handle Benedict.”
Mori liked the sound of “we.” Maybe he’d finally stop trying to do this by himself. “So you’ve finally accepted you can’t take him down on your own?”
Now it was his turn to sound bitter. “Oh yeah. That point was made loud and clear today. I realized something else, too. It’s not just that Benedict’s strong or that he’s an alpha. Oh, holy shit!” Kell grabbed the door handle as another swell hit them broadside, then tilted them in the opposite direction seconds later. A cascade of water shot over the side of the ferry and doused the window next to Kell. Mori started feeling queasy herself.
Finally, the ferry righted itself again, and Mori let out a tense breath. The Bolivar terminal was finally in sight. Keep talking. Don’t look at the water.
“What do you mean, it’s not just that he’s an alpha?” In her world, alphas were like the president — or, in Michael’s case, a malevolent dictator.
“I mean — fuck!” A dip to starboard, and another wall of water hit the passenger-side window next to Kell’s head, hard enough to rock the SUV. He closed his eyes again and swallowed hard. “I mean that Michael’s not only an alpha. He’s a sociopath. You realize that,
don’t you?”
Mori frowned as a lightbulb went off in her head. In all the angst over Michael, all the fear, all the anger, she’d always been thinking of him as her alpha. She’d considered him only in terms of the Dire culture, not as an individual.
What if Kell were right?
“Tell me what — ow!” The ferry took a final lurch to the left just before settling into one of the three Bolivar terminal slips, cracking Mori’s head against the SUV window.
Now wasn’t the time to talk. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands and carefully steered the SUV off the unsteady ferry, rolling down her window at a DOT guy who approached just before they reached the gated exit.
“You folks need to get off the peninsula as soon as you can. Evacuation’s mandatory now.” He shouted against the gusts that buffeted the hood of his navy windbreaker.
Kell leaned over and shouted. “Just the peninsula evacuated? What about Galveston?”
“Galveston and Houston, too. Houston’s recommended, not mandatory, but it’s gonna get bad. Highway Eighty-Seven’s still open for now, but cut north first chance you get. Water’s going to start coming over the road in places. Be careful.”
Mori nodded and drove on, passing quickly through the settled area near the ferry and onto the isolated stretch of highway that hugged the Gulf side of the peninsula. Angry waves crashed into the rocky seawall until the road shifted farther into the center of the narrow peninsula and took them away from the shoreline. Hurricane-proof houses had sprung back up along the highway in spots — or as hurricane-proof as technology could make them, standing high on deeply embedded stilts that would theoretically keep them high and dry when the storm surge arrived.
Mostly, though, the land was flat and desolate, with not even a tree to break the bands of wind and rain moving ashore with more intensity. Neither Mori nor Kell tried to talk. She was focused on keeping the SUV on the highway, and the few times she wrenched her gaze from the road to glance at Kell, his eyes were closed. She hoped he could sleep. Relaxing the muscles along his spine would help his back, and sleep would help him forget the injury to his hand. She had a feeling he hadn’t even begun to feel the pain of that one yet, as it had been masked by adrenaline.
Omega Force 01- Storm Force Page 23