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Winter's Bite (The Crimson Winter Reverse Harem Series Book 2)

Page 10

by Lindsey R. Loucks


  "Wolf tracks," he said.

  Gibby sucked in a breath, reeling in Ribbons who was trying to escape. "Momma?"

  "It's okay." Shay gathered her daughter into her arms and helped fight to contain the cat too.

  "Heading where?" Archer asked.

  But we already knew. Thomas confirmed it with a single look at Archer.

  We were being hunted. Faust’s men really were coming after us.

  "Will we make it?" Archer asked, lowering his voice.

  At the weighted silence, Shay loosened a shuddering hiss that jabbed me with an accusatory finger. We weren't dead yet though. In my pocket, we still had a chance.

  I fished the jar out and held it up so everyone could see. "Keep going for as long as you can. When they get too close, we'll meet them with this. Now's the time to see if it works on wolves."

  "Get your arrows ready fast," Thomas ordered.

  Grady took the reins at the front again, Thomas jumped in, Archer slammed the door, and in the next instant, we set off again.

  Archer grabbed my quiver from the wagon floor, and I doused each arrow tip into the glass jar, keeping it close to me so it wouldn't spill on my wolves. Shay had given me a new pair of gloves, and they moved with me, free and easy.

  "What is that?" Gibby asked from the far corner, still bundled protectively into her mother's arms.

  "Nothing for you to worry about. Aika promised me she’d keep us safe, and we believe her, don't we?" The sharp tone in her voice split down my heart, but I tried not to let it show. If anything happened to them because I'd dragged them into this, I would never forgive myself.

  "You have nothing to worry about," I assured them.

  A wolf howled in the distance, just to prove me wrong.

  Shit. My pulse a wild hammer, I dropped to the end of the sleigh facing the back door. On the other side of the hill, the wagon rolled downward, seemingly at the same speed it had climbed upward. We were going much too slow, the horses not used to traveling in winter.

  Archer rubbed a circle into my back, his touch a magical strengthening balm. "Thomas will be your eyes. I'll take Sasha to the back."

  I nodded. Thomas shifted into a large red-eyed wolf free from scars, at least that I could see. Shay gasped, and from Sasha's borrowed vision, I saw tears sparkle in the woman's bright blue eyes as she stared at the wolf.

  I shoved as hard as I could against the back door. As my sight bounced to the wolf's next to me, I froze. My heart skipped several beats, and the poisoned arrow in my grasp felt too flimsy to be of any use.

  Dozens of wolves raced toward us at top speed, gaining easily on the rickety wagon. I didn't have enough arrows, but I had plenty of poison. I'd find a way to get us out of this. I'd promised Shay.

  I nocked the first arrow, the tip of it glistening wet. As the wolves drew nearer, I held steady while hope pounded through my blood. It would work. It had to.

  "I'm ready," I whispered to the wind.

  Thomas turned his wolf head toward me, seeing my wind-blasted cheeks and my long black hair streaking around my stolen red coat. My blind eyes stared right down the arrow, exactly like they were supposed to if I could see. I'd never imagined that's what I could look like—a fierce woman who faced down her enemies. I liked what I saw. It made me think I could win.

  Thomas’s gaze shifted outward again. Another wolf bounded closer, his toothy grin a sinister warning. With a deep breath, I released an arrow. It shot true, despite the wind, spearing into the wolf's shoulder. I couldn't hear if the wolf made a sound, but it limped off out of sight. Had I killed it?

  I nocked another arrow, aimed this one farther out, and released it. It hit a wolf about ten feet away. It kept coming—one step, two, three, four—and then dropped. Two more seemed to pop out of nowhere and took its place. I was firing too slowly. I fired another arrow and another. They both sliced into their targets and dropped them after they took four steps. But more and more kept coming. I had less than twenty arrows left. I kept going, but the frigid air numbed my fingers despite the gloves. One wolf easily dodged my shot. Shit. I'd wasted an arrow.

  Five wolves were closing in fast. Thomas tensed next to me as I fumbled to nock another arrow. I took out one. At the same time, another leaped into the wagon next to me.

  "Aika!" Archer shouted from the back.

  With a yelp, I jerked away and fell back hard onto the sleigh, my hip bone crashing against the wood. Thomas lunged at its neck. Blood sprayed across my face as he tore a chunk of the wolf's neck out. It slumped over the wagon’s rear and fell out.

  Before I could haul myself up, the three wolves that were closest drew closer to each other, mimicking each other's strides perfectly. As one, they leaped into the wagon.

  Shay screamed.

  I grabbed for an arrow, braced the end against the floor directly in one's path. The wolf landed and let out a scream eerily similar to Shay's as the arrow punctured out its back. The second wolf tried to skirt past Thomas. He caught it by the tail between his teeth as the wolf raced toward Archer and Sasha. Archer crushed his boot into the wolf's face.

  With them preoccupied, with me still lying on my back, the third wolf snarled past all of us toward the back of the wagon.

  A strangled cry wrenched up from my throat. I flopped onto my belly and scrambled toward Shay, toward Gibby, toward Ribbons. Hysterical wails came from Shay, twisting through the wolf's vicious snarls.

  "No!" I screamed. My vision bounced between my wolves too much to see what was happening. I didn't want to see what was happening.

  Still, I threw myself toward the back of the wagon with my bow. I didn't remember picking it up, but I swung it as hard as I could.

  It slammed into the wolf's back. The wolf tripped over its paws, and its canines fell inches short of ripping through Gibby's coat. Ribbons, still squirming to get out of Shay's grasp, hissed and swatted at the wolf's muzzle, all claws and sharp teeth on display. The cat caught the wolf on the nose, and the wolf jerked back—right into Thomas's open mouth. He snapped its neck with one bite and hurled it out of the wagon.

  Archer set Sasha down in the corner and then quickly shut the rear doors.

  "All right?" I squeezed out, trembling too hard to do much else.

  Shay nodded, tears streaking down her bone-white face. She pressed as far into the wagon’s corner as she could with her hands cupped around her wailing daughter's head. Ribbons stood on her shoulder, pissed off and ready to attack again.

  Still more wolves came and prepared to leap inside, their strides synchronized, their ferocious intent flashing in their eyes. Thomas blocked their way while emitting a growl that bristled my hair. I started to follow but my foot knocked into my quiver, and arrows skittered out. Too few of them. Even if we closed the back of the wagon, the wolves would keep coming. When we stopped—and we'd have to eventually—the wolves would surround us.

  "We have to draw them away," I said. "Go in separate directions." I hated to say it, hated the thought of being away from one of my wolves again, but it was the only way.

  Thomas and Archer glanced back and nodded, their gazes landing on me and then the sleigh.

  I turned toward Shay. "We'll get them away. Without the extra weight, Grady can go faster. Shay, I'm… I meant what I said. You have my word."

  Through Sasha's eyes, I saw Shay's face crumble into a sob. She reached out and smoothed her mittened hand over my cheek. "I believe you."

  I didn't deserve her tears after what I'd done to her family. I'd destroyed her home. I'd sentenced her husband to death, I’d nearly gotten her and her daughter killed, and all she'd done was be married to the wrong man and shown us nothing but kindness. The only thing that kept me from breaking in half with guilt was that Faust’s wolf shifters likely would’ve shown up at her front door if we hadn’t left.

  "We'll come find you," I promised, my voice breaking.

  I rubbed my hand over Gibby's hitching shoulders but avoided Ribbons's teeth and claws, then I opened th
e thick flap of animal skin and fur that separated us from the front of the wagon. The faint sound of horses’ hooves laced through the howling wind.

  "Grady," I shouted into the rush of snow. "We're leaving. Take Shay anywhere safe."

  I didn't even know if he could hear me or not, but then his arm snaked through the flap and sought mine. He pulled my hand through, rolling down my glove as he did, and then his soft lips grazed my knuckles.

  My heart splintered. This was goodbye. Like when we'd separated from Archer, I had no idea when I might see him again, and that killed me. We'd only just found each other, our path much rockier than the one that had brought Archer and me together.

  He spread my fingers against his cheek, the warmest thing in existence right now, and nodded. He’d heard me. He understood. I leaned my forehead against the wood behind his head while my throat closed off. We'd see each other again. All of us would.

  Reluctantly, I pulled away, leaving some of my heart with him, and turned toward the sleigh. Sasha kept stepping onto it toward her box in the back, but Archer nosed her off. She wanted to come like she always did for rides on the sleigh.

  "It's not safe this time," I told her.

  She whipped her head around and growled at me the only way she knew how—a light buzzing.

  “But wait though,” I said, “Grady can’t watch her and steer the wagon, and…” I gestured to Shay who had her eyes squeezed shut. As much as I trusted her, I didn’t think she could handle watching over a wolf pup right now.

  Thomas nodded his wolf head, avoiding looking at Sasha even a little.

  Archer picked her up by the scruff of the neck, deposited her into the box at the back of the sleigh, then gazed up at me expectantly as I stepped up onto the sleigh.

  Despite my heartache and terror, I smiled and leaned down for his good-luck kiss. We would need every bit of luck we could take. His warm tongue swiped my lips, and I touched them lightly to keep the lucky tingle there forever.

  Thomas and Archer harnessed themselves to the front of the sleigh, both of them loaning me their eyes as they gazed backward so I could tie the leather harness around my waist and ready my bow and quiver.

  Soon, we were ready to fling ourselves out into winter and straight into a pack of wolves.

  Grady started up a sharp incline which would give us the speed we needed right away.

  "When we're out," I told Shay, "close the door as fast as you can."

  "I will. See you soon."

  At my nod, Thomas opened the door. He and Archer bounded out, jerking the sleigh behind them roughly. The wind lashed at my face. My stomach spun in circles as my feet left the sleigh. The only things keeping me on were my grip on the crossbar and the harness, and I hoped that would be enough. We flew into the air, but there wasn't any time to feel like I was flying. The landing came too soon. It crashed my back teeth together, brought my feet back down with a jarring thud.

  Then we were off.

  Wolves came at us fast, from every direction Thomas and Archer could see.

  I readied my bow and an arrow and shot the closest one in the leg. One step. Two. Three. On the fourth, it dropped. Yes. I loosed another arrow and another, firing as soon as I nocked them.

  And when I ran out of arrows…then what? I had a whole jar of poison in my pocket. I could crush it down one's throat. Sprinkle it onto their fur and pray they'd lick it. Or just hope we made it somewhere safe so Archer could carve me more arrows.

  Much too soon, I reached over my shoulder to my quiver, and my hand met emptiness. All gone. The wind nearly drowned out everything else—the scrape of claws on the sleigh’s edges, panting as wolves drew close enough to bite—but I couldn't see them if they were behind us. I was positive some were.

  One yanked at the bottom hem of my coat and tumbled me sideways before I caught myself. Right after, another tried to steal my bow from my grip. I crushed my teeth together, the wintery air yet another sharp slap to the face. Without arrows, sight, or hearing, I was completely defenseless. Vulnerable.

  I opened my mouth to shout at my wolves, but a gunshot rang out. From everywhere and nowhere. The sleigh listed to the left, toward Thomas's side. He slowed and whipped his head toward—

  No.

  Archer.

  He shifted into his human form and stumbled to his knees, slipping the harness from his shoulders. Blood seeped from the middle of his coat and sputtered from his lips when he coughed into the snow.

  I couldn't look away. Couldn’t move. Thomas couldn't either. My mouth was moving, but I didn't know what I was saying. Maybe Archer's name. Maybe to run and hide. It didn’t matter.

  I dropped my bow and fumbled for my harness, my hands completely useless as I tried to free myself.

  Thomas shifted, too, but instead of racing toward Archer, he sprinted toward me. "Aika! Run!"

  Another gunshot, this one closer than before. Blood sprayed onto the snow in a perfect acr—around Thomas.

  Thomas, the missing alpha who even now was still lost. The scarred shifter who'd been shot with arrows again and again groaned, and now with a bullet, didn’t fall. Now I knew why he and Archer had both shifted back into men—because they didn't want me to see either of them like this.

  A pained cry tore from my throat as I tried to see anyway, tried to see the threat marching toward us through the snow.

  "Aika Song, I'm delighted to make your acquaintance again. I had a feeling we'd meet sooner rather than later."

  I didn’t need to see.

  Didn’t even need to turn around.

  I knew it was Faust himself.

  Chapter 13

  "You killed a huge chunk of my pack in just one day," Faust said, stopping about six feet away. "One day. Now, I know you're a good shot—you got Lager's finger after all—but not that good of a shot one hundred percent of the time. I just don't believe it.

  This man seemed to like to hear himself talk. I picked up my bow and turned, and my ears homed in through the blowing wind on the sounds around him, how many and from what direction. He'd brought four men with him, all of them staying behind him for now. His other wolf shifters that had been chasing us were surely nearby though. I also picked up on Thomas who grunted with pained fury several feet in front of me, but only the faint crunch of snow from Archer’s way. Not a sound from Sasha. I swallowed hard, wishing we hadn't brought her with us.

  "Seems you have a secret weapon that works awfully fast,” Faust said. “I'd like to know what it is now."

  Rage trampled up my throat and flattened my voice into a hard, flat sound. "You already know what it is."

  "I do? Care to remind me?"

  "Five-step poison. I told you about it in Old Man's Den, only instead of five, it’s now four."

  "So you did.” He didn’t seem pleased with the improvement. Not at all. “Sorry to say, I didn't believe you. Fast-acting stuff, isn’t it? I imagine you'll be selling it like your daddy does?"

  "No."

  "Shame. We could really use something stronger to keep out the damn wolves from the Crimson Forest. They keep cropping up."

  "We're in the Slipjoint Forest," Thomas ground out. "Neutral ground, you fucking bastard, or did you forget that?"

  "Thomas,” Faust scolded. “Now, I don’t remember giving you permission to speak."

  A click. Another gunshot.

  "No!" I jumped forward, my arms outstretched as if I could catch a bullet.

  Thomas cried out in pain and pitched forward into the snow.

  I heaved several breaths and curled the fingers of both hands around my bow, my only weapon, the only thing that separated me from them.

  Faust hacked and spit into the snow. "Now you can limp around like your dumbass pack mate. What's his name? Burned the whole goddamn town to the ground."

  "Don't do this," I warned through gritted teeth. I wasn't begging. I was telling.

  "Then give me a reason not to,” Faust yelled. “There's a big lump in your coat pocket there. Might that be
the poison I'm after?"

  If he got his hands on the poison, this was all over. All that hard work for nothing. If he got his hands on the poison, my wolves, if they survived this moment, wouldn't survive the next.

  “Give it to me or I shoot Archer again.”

  I shook my head as a sob broke loose. Slowly, with great effort to pry my fingers loose, I let my bow slip from my hands. Then I held them up, showing Faust I wanted to cooperate.

  This was what defeat felt like—my soul crushed and ground beneath a boot heel. The feeling dragged down the inside of my skin and weighed down my hand as I stuck it in my pocket. This was the only way.

  Because like hell I'd cooperate.

  I made a fist around the jar, estimated the distance of the sleigh behind me, and hurled the poison toward it as hard as I could. Glass shattered everywhere, and I hoped with everything inside me that none splashed on Sasha in her box.

  "You want the poison?” I shouted. “Go lap it up."

  Faust laughed, the sound dark and morbid, and it climbed into my heart and petrified it.

  "I like little girls with balls, don't you, boys?” he asked. “And this one has plenty."

  On cue, his men laughed and laughed.

  "Where's Ronin, you sick fuck? Where's the wolf pup?" That was Archer, staggering toward my back. Blood coated the inside of his throat and made him sound like he was drowning as it bubbled up from his gunshot.

  My chest caved in, because he was drowning while bleeding out.

  "Here's what's going to happen," Faust said, ignoring him. "Your little girl here with the big balls is going to play a game."

  My mind shorted out as I tried and failed to comprehend what he'd just said. My body understood just fine though. It trembled violently. Bile kicked from the pit of my empty stomach and soured my tongue until my eyes burned. I couldn't. I couldn't play Catch, Kill, Release.

  "We're through playing your games, Faust," Thomas roared. "Why don't you go fuck one of your wives instead."

  "Now that's a great idea." He stepped forward. "But first…"

  Vision clicked into place, and I saw myself. Not a fierce woman like I'd been in the covered wagon but a dejected girl with slumped shoulders and a stricken face as if she'd just been slapped.

 

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