The Alpha's Mate

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  Cautiously opening the door, she saw the clump of mud and gravel someone had thrown at her house. Why? She peered out into the yard, squinting to see what she could in the faint light thrown from the door.

  There was a mass of black in the lighter patch of gravel that was used for parking. At first she thought it was a garbage bag and that she’d interrupted some local pranksters up to some mischief. Then the bag moved and she realized with growing horror that it wasn’t a bag at all, but a human being.

  “Oh no, please, no,” she cried as she ran to the struggling form.

  It was Max and the only thing recognizable about her was her strawberry blonde hair though even that was matted with blood and filth. The battered woman had already risen to her hands and knees.

  “Stay there, Max. You shouldn’t move. Let me get a blanket.”

  “House. Lock the doors.” Max retched and heaved something black and ugly onto the gravel. She moaned and her elbows started to collapse beneath her.

  Elizabeth helped her friend to her feet and, bearing as much of her weight as she could, lead her to the house. The four steps to the porch seemed impossible to climb. Max screamed when Elizabeth tried to grip her around the middle to hoist her up. Her ribs were broken.

  Once in the kitchen, Max leaned against the counter, gripping the edge with white knuckled fingers while Elizabeth closed and locked the door. When she would have helped her friend to the bedroom, Max waved her off. The young woman was panting, her breaths shallow because of the pain.

  “Gonna hurl,” she whispered and tried to turn toward the sink. Elizabeth had just enough time to help her into position before Max vomited again. The vomit wasn’t black, but bloody.

  After settling Max into a chair, Elizabeth began to wash away the blood and dirt from her face and hands. Max’s eyes were already beginning to blacken and her lips and nose were swollen into a grotesque mask. Silently, Elizabeth washed. Over and over she rinsed the dish towel free of grime, but there was always more.

  Once face and arms were cleaned, she carefully unbuttoned the torn cotton blouse and gasped. The girl’s body had been pummeled. As she tossed the garment onto the floor, she saw the distinctive imprint of a man’s boot.

  “Who did this to you?” she asked. And how much more have they done? She couldn’t keep the anger from her voice. What kind of monster did this to a woman?

  “I don’t know.” Max started to weep.

  Fearing shock, Max’s stony, staring silence had frightened Elizabeth, but these soft whimpering tears broke her heart.

  “Shh, shh, it’s going to be all right. You’re safe now. I’m here.” She reached into the drawer behind her and pulled out her only kitchen knife. She laid it on the table within easy reach. “And I swear I’ll kill the fucking bastards if they come back.”

  Max smiled weakly. “I do believe you would.”

  “Just let them try, sister. Just let them try.”

  She went to the sink to give the cloth another rinse and paused to swallow her own tears. They would do nothing to help her friend.

  Once she had herself back under control, she started on Max’s legs. Her bare feet and lower legs were scraped as if she’d been dragged across the ground, but showed none of the battering of her upper torso. She raised Max’s skirt up high on her thighs and was relieved to find her panties intact with no outward signs of abuse.

  “Thank you, God,” Elizabeth whispered and the tears she’d tried so hard to hold back fell onto her friend’s bare legs.

  “I thanked him, too.” Max’s hand stroked her hair, comforting the comforter. “They were going to and then one of them said, “No, that’s not on my agenda.” They stopped and grabbed my hands and started dragging me. When I realized where they were taking me, I thought they were going to throw me into the ravine. You stopped them.”

  Was that their intent? Had she interrupted them? Then why throw the clod of dirt at the door?

  “Come on. Let’s get you to bed and then we’ll decide what to do.”

  Half way to the bedroom, Max groaned, buckled over vomited. This time, it was bright red. Elizabeth cleaned her up as quickly as possible and got her into bed.

  “I’m going for help. Something’s wrong, Max, and you need to get to a hospital.”

  “No. Stay. Not safe.” Max gripped her arm, but there was no strength to it. “Marshall. Marshall’ll come.”

  “Yes he will, sweetheart. We’ll call an ambulance and come right back.”

  “No. Don’t leave me.” Max’s eyes closed and fluttered open again. “Afraid. Marshall’ll come.”

  “Yes he will,” she said again. “Here. You keep the knife.” She laid it on the covers beside Max’s hand. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.

  Max’s eyes rolled back in her head before they closed.

  Elizabeth knew she had to get help. She was sure Max would die without it. She ran to the kitchen drawer where the flashlight was stored and found it empty. Where, where, where had she left it? The last time she saw it was the night of the snake. She wasted precious minutes in fruitless searching, grabbed her broom as a weapon and ran for the door. With the light from the moon, she should be able to see well enough to make her way, but whoever had attacked Max might still be out there. At the door she hesitated and ran back to the fireplace. She traded her broom for the poker.

  She ran across the moonlit yard and through the opening between the roses as if the hounds of hell were on her heels. Darkness descended with the cover of the trees. Faint patches of pale light danced here and there along the trail where the moon filtered through the branches. It was barely enough to find her way. She slowed to a quick walk. Running would only send her tripping over a root and over the edge into who knew what. Breaking her ankle wouldn’t help Max. Setting a steady pace, she marched into the darkness.

  She had never been the kind of child who needed a nightlight. She’d never worried about taking her trash out to the dumpster at 11 PM. She’d never been afraid of the dark. The dark couldn’t hurt you. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

  Strange sounds surrounded her as she made her way along the trail. She paused and held her breath every time she heard a leaf move or a twig snap. Before she came here, she’d always thought of night in the country as silent. It wasn’t. There were creatures out there moving in the darkness. She could hear them clearly. The hair on the back of her neck rose. Was she being watched?

  No, she decided, it wasn’t the darkness she was afraid of. It was the things that shared the darkness with her.

  As the minutes passed, she began to grow accustomed to the sounds. She was still frightened, still felt like she was being watched, but she could now separate some sounds from others.

  That faint swoosh from high in the trees was probably an owl silently taking off to attack its unsuspecting prey. Her suspicions were confirmed a few seconds later when a short, sharp animal scream pierced the night. Unforgiving Mother Nature at work.

  An extended rustle of leaves to the left told her the maker was small and waddling, certainly not big enough to cause her harm.

  “Remember,” she said aloud. “These animals are more afraid of you than you are of them. They fear man.”

  She squeaked when something scurried onto the trail. A raccoon stopped and rose up on hind legs to glare at her before moving on.

  “Okay, whoever said that lied. These things aren’t the least bit intimidated. On the other hand,” she reasoned, “It didn’t attack. Keep moving. You have to be halfway there. You’ll get help. Everything will be fine.”

  The sound of her own voice reassured her and she thought about singing, but…

  Two short chuffs sounded uphill on her right. The something on her left gave a startled cheep and scurried off downhill. The smaller creature wasn’t afraid of her, but it was afraid of whatever was snorting up above and if it was afraid, maybe she should be, too.

  It snorted again and she felt a chill run up her spine. The already stiffened hairs at the back
of her neck rose to new heights. She raised the poker up with two hands and kept walking.

  She moved as quickly as her unsteady feet and half blind eyes would allow. A twig snapped. There was a high, quick yip, almost like a dog’s followed by a snarl and a snapping of jaws.

  They couldn’t be more than ten feet away and they were keeping pace with her. They were making no effort to hide their presence. The constant snorts and chuffs sounded almost like laughter.

  She saw a light in the distance, a flickering yellow dot in the center of the trail. A lantern? Wild animals were afraid of fire, she thought and then she remembered the wolves outside the burning barn. It didn’t matter. Heedless of the roots and rocks, she ran for the light.

  Chapter 12

  Something big came crashing down from the hill above. She heard a snarl and the smacking thud of one body hitting another. More snarls, yips and growls followed. It was a repeat of the night of the fire. One pack defending its territory from another?

  Let them rip each other to shreds. She wasn’t going to hang around and watch. She ran toward the light, poker resting on her shoulder.

  She heard a snarl behind her and turned in time to see the creature leap, its gaping jaw exposing teeth made for tearing. Without conscious thought, Elizabeth gripped the poker with both hands and swung. The homerun hit caught the animal in the side with a sickening thud. She saw its eyes widen with surprise as it tumbled to the ground. She didn’t wait to see how much damage she’d done. She turned and ran.

  The second beast hit her like a freight train. One minute she was running upright, the next she was tumbling down the mountainside. Fur over flesh, they fell through the underbrush, smacking hip and shoulder and back against the rocks and dirt beneath.

  Her scream emerged from her mouth as only a whoosh of breath as she was slammed against a tree. She was vaguely aware of her furry attacker fighting against the fall, its feet scrambling for purchase. With a lunge, it tried to pull away.

  The lunging animal was off balance and its twisting leap threw it into a narrow trunked tree. There was a bone splintering crack and the animal went slack. Until that moment, Elizabeth hadn’t realized she was the one preventing the animal’s escape to safety. Her hands were buried in the creature’s ruff. She tumbled past, her fall momentarily halted by wolf and tree. She started to fall again, this time sliding rather than tumbling down the slope. She was still hanging onto the now limp body and the dead weight of it slowed her further until she came to a gentle and controlled stop.

  After the fright and frenzy of the fall, the calm that followed was even more unnerving. There was no noise from above; no growls, snarls or cries of pain. Where were they? What would she find if she crawled back up to the trail? Had the wolves run off as they had the night of the fire?

  “Lizzie!” The voice was strong and not too far away.

  Marshall? He was the only one who called her Lizzie. “Marshall! I’m here. Down the slope.” She could see a flicker of light up above and started crawling toward it, circling the body of the wolf, not quite believing the creature was dead.

  He met her halfway and immediately ran his hands over her face, arms and body and then held her to his naked chest.

  “Where’s Max?” His voice held an edge of panic.

  Elizabeth wanted to wrap her arms around him, accept his comfort and comfort him in return, but there wasn’t time. “She’s at the Home Place. Oh, Marshall, she’s in terrible shape. She said I had to get you. That’s why I was on the trail. You need to go to her. Now. I’ll be okay. I’ll catch up. Please Marshall.” Now that her job was done, she started to cry, but she snuffled it back. “Don’t let her die.”

  “Henry!” Marshall called up the hill and at the answering call, he turned back to Elizabeth. “Stay here until Henry comes to get you.” He started up the hill.

  “I’ll be okay, really.” She stared up the hill after him.

  He turned and said sharply, “Dammit woman. For once, will you do what you’re told? Stay still.”

  The power in his voice brought her up short. She stayed where she was and gripped a small tree for balance as she watched Marshall’s dark form disappear into the darkness of the night. She didn’t move again until she heard Henry’s voice.

  “I’m coming, Henry.” She fell to her knees and started to crawl up the slope. “Oh, shit!” Her left hand hit fur, muzzle, teeth. Another dead wolf.

  “Miz Elizabeth?”

  “I’m okay, okay.”

  Henry was suddenly beside her, his hand on her arm. “This way,” he said and led her zigzagging up the slope. He kept a tight grip on her arm to keep her from sliding back down.

  Elizabeth heard movement in the woods around them and clutched Henry’s arm. He patted her hand gently.

  “They’re ours.”

  When they reached the trail, he turned them toward Marshall’s and started to walk.

  “No. Wrong way.” She pulled against Henry’s arm. It was like pulling on a tree trunk, but he stopped. “We need to get to the Home Place.”

  “Marshall said to take you to our place.”

  She could hear the indecision in his voice. “I’m not going to run and hide when someone I care about may need me. Could you, if Marshall was injured, maybe dying.”

  Elizabeth started off toward the Home Place with a show of confidence she didn’t really feel, particularly when Henry started off in the other direction. She let out the breath she’d been holding when the glow of the lantern encircled her feet.

  “Marshall said you know about us,” he said drawing up beside her.

  “I do,” she said, although what their love life had to do with this she didn’t understand.

  He nodded as if that settled it. “One of us is going to get their ass chewed over this and I’m thinking it ain’t going to be you.”

  “Oh please. Just tell him I refused to cooperate. You can’t make me go where I don’t want to.”

  Henry snickered at that. “Yeah,” he said as he looked her up and down. “Like he’s going to believe that.”

  He started down the trail and Elizabeth had to jog to keep up. The light from the lantern cleared a few feet ahead, but she couldn’t have moved nearly as fast without Henry’s sure footed guidance.

  “Watch that root. Got a dip coming up. Edge is soft on the right.” He issued warnings every few feet and Elizabeth got the impression that without her, he’d be sprinting. Twice he stopped, cocked his head to the side and listened to a distant howl from the woods before moving on.

  Twice as fast as she’d done it alone, they were at the end of the trail and entering her yard. She was on surer ground here and she sprinted for the house. Henry caught her shoulder as she reached the stairs.

  “It’s all right, Henry. I heard you coming.” Marshall was at the screen door. He pushed it open and came out on the porch. His skin was drawn tightly around his mouth and his eyes were circled with dark shadows. His shoulders slumped.

  Elizabeth thought the worst. “Is she…?” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

  “She’s alive.” He looked at Henry and frowned.

  Henry raised his hands defensively. “I know, I know. Try telling her.” He poked his chin at Elizabeth. “She’s as stubborn as you are.”

  Elizabeth didn’t think that was quite fair. Henry hadn’t argued all that strongly against her decision.

  Marshall swung his head in her direction and glared. He straightened his shoulders and his head came up. He suddenly looked taller, broader, more powerful.

  “When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed.”

  At the strength of his voice, Elizabeth felt herself shrink down on the step. She frowned and made a conscious effort to square her shoulders and stand straight. He expected to be obeyed, did he? She’d had plenty of practice facing down scarier bullies than he. He hadn’t met her mother.

  “Just who do you think you’re talking to, buster? This is my house, rent paid in full and if there
’s any ordering to be done in it, I’ll be doing it.” Take that bully boy!

  Marshall’s jaw was clenched so tight she thought his teeth might crack. Henry had turned away and she heard him make a funny, snorty sort of sound through his nose as if he might be stifling a laugh. Elizabeth put her hands on her hips.

  “Now, shouldn’t we be arranging to move Max to a hospital?”

  “No!” Marshall and Henry answered together.

  “We’ve got it handled,” Marshall said firmly. “GW’s on the way and I have more to do. You and Henry need to stay out here. Please.” He gave her a small nod. “And this time…” He then gave Henry a quelling look and Elizabeth watched as Henry seemed to shrink in size and lower his head. “This time, I expect to be obeyed.”

  Henry’s silence was answer enough.

  How dare Marshall treat Henry like that? Henry was his partner, not his slave.

  “Why do you let him do that to you?” she asked when the door was closed behind Marshall.

  Henry grinned sheepishly. “Marshall ordered me to take you back to the house. I disobeyed. He had to show who’s boss. I had to say I recognize it. It’s done.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Elizabeth was angry on Henry’s behalf. “He’s not your boss. He can’t fire you.”

  “No, but he could do a lot worse. He could have me shunned.”

  “Throw you out?”

  “Yeah, but like I said, worse.”

  Elizabeth thought she understood. This was a side of Marshall she would never have suspected. “He wouldn’t break up with you over something as petty as this, would he?”

  “Break up?” Henry choked on the words. “As in, ah, couple break up?” He took two steps back and she could tell he was in shock.

  Oh, oh. He must have been referring to something else and she’d just compounded his concern. Elizabeth reached for his hand. “I told you I know about you two. I just can’t picture Marshall leaving you over something like this.”