by Selina Woods
Weary, depressed, I rested my cheek on my fist. “Did you talk to the mechanic?”
“I see him tomorrow. Once I see where the wind blows with him, we’ll go from there. Declan, you have a place to hide?”
“Several.”
“Jae, you’re coming home with me. Morgan, it’s up to you to keep him alive.”
“I will. Provided he does what I tell him.”
I opened my mouth to bite his head off when Jae wrapped her arms around me from behind. “He will, Morgan.”
“What? I am not gonna listen –”
Jae’s fingers suddenly twisted my ear, making me yelp in pain. “You will do as he says, Declan,” she growled. “I love you, and I will not see you killed. Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, leggo, dammit.”
Jae released me, then hugged me tight, her tears trickling down my neck. “I love you. Please promise me you’ll be careful.”
Turning around, I hugged her tight. “I will, babe. I promise. We’ll get out of here, I swear it.”
Sniffling, Jae wiped the tears from her face. “I’ll meet you back here tomorrow?”
I glanced at Morgan, who grimaced and shook his head. “Not a good idea. If Raphael gets wind that Declan and you are an item, you’re just as dead, Jae. We’ll find another place to meet and work on our plans. But I’ll get word to you. Promise.”
Jae planted a swift kiss on my lips. “Then it’s goodbye for now.”
“It’s just for a short while, Jae,” I said, wiping a tear from her cheek with my thumb. “Stay with Chad and his family. You’ll be safe there.”
“You two go on,” Chad said. “Out the back. Jae and I will wait a while before we go.”
Jae planted another firm kiss to my lips, then let me go. “Stay safe.”
I grinned at her. “I will.”
With Morgan at my back, I exited the bar through the rear entrance and entered the icy, windy darkness. Shifting forms for speed as well as secrecy and greater warmth, I trotted down the alley and peeked around the corner before oozing into the street. Hoping the arctic cold kept the enforcers and marauders inside, I made my way toward the nearest of my lairs.
“I trust your place has heat?” Morgan muttered.
“Nope. A fire, maybe, if we dare.”
“I think we’re gonna dare. This cold can kill, you know.”
I had no doubt he was right. With the wind factor involved, the temperature stood low enough that we might freeze to death even with blankets. Moving helped keep me warm as we slunk through the dark, and though I craved to run in the open to get there faster, my gut told me not to do it.
My instincts proved right when a pack trotted down the street toward us. I crouched in the shadows, Morgan behind me. I had always relied on my small size to hide more efficiently, and now I had his huge bulk to worry about. Crawling under the wheels of an old wreck, I glanced around to see Morgan beside me—in his human form
I caught his fast grimace, understanding that was the only way he, too, could hide. Yet, that also exposed him to the effects of the winter wind. Turning back, I watched the pack, again the two lions and two wolves, trot closer toward our hiding spot. They grumbled amongst themselves, bitching about the cold and few hunting prospects, then suddenly one of the wolves stopped dead.
“You smell that?”
I dared not even breathe. The icy blast blew our scent straight to them. The other wolf sniffed the air while the lions prowled restlessly in a circle. “What do you scent?” one growled.
“Lions,” replied the first wolf. “But I can’t tell where they are. The wind is too strong.”
“It’s fresh,” said the other. “I think it’s coming from up the street.”
“Let’s move on,” the leader ordered. “Too fucking cold to stand around.”
The pack moved on, loping now to stay warm, and I watched them, wondering if they would turn back once the wolves lost the scent. They didn’t, and soon turned a corner and were gone. I crept out from under the vehicle, Morgan shivering uncontrollably now. He quickly shifted into his lion body, but his fur wasn’t enough to keep him warm.
“This is how you survived on the streets?” he asked as we trotted on.
“Yeah. Always one jump ahead of the packs.”
“How far away are we from your lair?” He spoke through clenched teeth, his jaws tight as he fought the shivering.
“Not far. Let’s pick up the pace a little.”
Loping rather than trotting, I still kept us both in the shadows, keeping a sharp watch for more packs hoping to find a straggler or two out where they shouldn’t be. We saw another in the distance, but they hadn’t seen us, nor were they close enough to be a danger. Still, I couldn’t afford to have our scent lead a pack to us.
Reaching my secret basement lair, I urged Morgan down and out of the wind.
“What are you gonna do?” he asked.
“Double back along our trail and confuse the scent. I won’t be very long. Get inside.”
He obeyed me, leaving me to lope back the way we had come, then enter an old burned-out house, then its neighbor, and finally make my way to my home again. I had long ago hidden the entrance with piled rubble, and only by actually seeing me enter it could it be found. Only after looking around carefully for any watchers did I go in.
“Nice place you got here,” Morgan commented dryly, sitting on his haunches amid the small stores of food, blankets, sleeping bags, and piles of wood.
“Modest, but homey.”
Before starting a fire in my human half, I covered the entrance with a dark blanket to prevent the light from being seen from outside yet left enough of an opening for the smoke to be pulled out. “Let’s hope the wind prevents anyone from identifying where the smoke smell is coming from.”
I piled wood and kindling in my little fire ring, then set the kindling alight with the lighter I kept in my pocket.
“On a night like this, lots of folks will have fires in fireplaces,” Morgan replied, sitting as close to the fire as he could get without burning himself.
Tossing a thick blanket over him, I said, “Let’s hope so.”
Setting up another for myself, I went lion and crawled under it. “I’ll stay awake and keep the fire going. Get some sleep.”
Morgan yawned, his fangs gleaming redly in the firelight. “We should sleep in shifts. You need to rest, too.”
A scratching sound coming from the entrance to the basement above sent us both lunging up from our blankets. “Shit,” I muttered, staring up in dismay.
Low growls and curses drifted down as the concealing blanket was torn away, and paws slowly, cautiously, descended the set of stairs that led to us.
“We’re trapped,” Morgan snapped, advancing toward the intruder.
Chapter Eleven
“They can only come one at a time,” I said and turned human to pick up a flaming branch. “If they discover it’s too costly to fight, they may back off.”
“And wait for us to come out,” he replied, his tone grim.
“Only until dawn. They won’t risk Raphael’s goons finding them, or they’ll hang.”
The lion turned the corner of the basement and snarled upon seeing us. Both Morgan and I charged forward, and I thrust the fire into his face at the same time Morgan attacked with fangs and claws. Recoiling from both, the marauder ducked back around the wall, but still awkwardly had his back to the stairs. Trapped between us and the wooden steps, he fought back, roaring, with Morgan slashing at his face with deadly fangs.
There wasn’t quite enough room for both of us, despite my small size, so I hung back a little, waiting for Morgan to give me an opening to push the flame I held into the other lion’s thick mane. The two were evenly matched for size, but Morgan wasn’t drugged out, and the invader’s responses were slower, weaker. Blood flecked Morgan’s muzzle and mane while the other lion’s face, shoulders, and flanks bore deep cuts and slashes.
Give me a chance here.
&nb
sp; I danced in place, needing to get my own in, to do my own fighting in defense of my home and my life. Morgan might have assigned himself my protector, but I could do some protecting of my own. The two fought on savagely, blocking the opportunity for one of the lion’s pals to descend the stairs and help, and beyond their fight, I saw another lion at the top, watching, waiting for his chance.
“Not gonna happen, you shit,” I muttered.
The marauder threw his weight forward into Morgan and knocked him backward, his claws cutting deep gouges into the side of Morgan’s muzzle and cheek. Now. I lunged between them before the invader could pounce on Morgan while he was down, punching him squarely in the nose with my left fist while thrusting the flaming branch into his mane with the other.
“Gotcha!” I bellowed, pulling my stick back to push it into his eyes. “Burn, damn you.”
As I expected it would, the flames caught instantly. Within a second, the lion’s thick mane was engulfed in fire, and he screamed, high and piercing. Spinning, his huge shoulder hit me hard and threw me to the floor. Had he thought about it, he could easily have opened me from throat to belly. He didn’t. I stared in astonishment as he fled.
Still shrieking, he charged back up the steps, blazing like a forest fire. The other lion at the top of the steps couldn’t get out of his way in time and was struck full on. Tangled together, the invading lion set his pal on fire, and both, yelling for all they were worth, fled into the night. I listened to the screams and curses, the shouts for them to roll on the ground to put the fires out.
I glanced aside to see Morgan step to my side, staring up the stairs even as I did. “Good move,” he rumbled with a faint grin.
“They won’t try that again,” I replied, listening as the sounds gradually faded away. “Those boys will be hurting for a long time, I hope.”
“He got me good.”
I turned back to Morgan, observing the deep slashes, the blood that still flowed down his face and dripped into his mane. “We need to get you to Chelsea.”
“After first light.”
I shook my head. “That’ll be even more dangerous. We’ll attract too much attention with you bleeding like that.”
“You may be right. But those idiots might still be in the area.”
“Worth the risk. Come on.”
Going lion, I scraped dirt over the fire to put it out, then followed Morgan up the steps. He went out slowly, cautiously, but evidently saw and heard nothing alarming, for he continued out. “This sucks,” he muttered. “Hurts like hell.”
The wind hadn’t slowed and was still bitterly cold as we trotted toward the main drag. “Those idiots are most likely gone,” I said, checking our vicinity as best I could. “They won’t try to attack us, not with two injured, even if they are still around.”
“They might think me weak enough to try, though,” Morgan replied.
I didn’t want to point it out, but the stench of blood coming off Morgan could easily attract other packs or predators roaming the night. I set as fast a pace as I dared to the apartment building where Jae and Chelsea lived, watching, listening, scenting the icy wind for any signs of trouble.
Dawn lightened the distant horizon as we finally, with relief, entered the building. “Maybe we can rest up in Chelsea’s apartment after she leaves for work,” I murmured as we both shifted our forms for her to recognize us.
“I’m going to need it.”
Morgan looked in bad shape, his cheek opened from temple to chin, his flesh hanging in ripped folds. His dark eyes, filled with pain and exhaustion, worried me greatly. His shoulders slumped as he leaned against the wall while I knocked on Chelsea’s door, watching for any possible observers. Hoping she hadn’t left already, I stood back and listened for her to come to the door and peer through the peephole.
“Declan?”
I heard the click as Chelsea unlocked the door and swung it wide. “What’s wrong?”
She wore a t-shirt and loose pants, her hair in disarray from sleeping. “We need your help,” I said, putting my hand under Morgan’s arm.
She took one look and urged us inside. “Get him into the kitchen.”
Morgan stumbled as he walked with me into the apartment, and I kept him steady until he sank into the chair at the table. Chelsea hurried into the bedroom, then returned with her kit. “Is Jae all right?” she asked, opening the small leather satchel.
“Yeah, she’s safe,” I replied, running water in the sink to scrub it. “We got attacked while in one of my safe houses.”
“Obviously, it wasn’t very safe, was it?”
“Guess not.”
Morgan winced and swore fluently as Chelsea disinfected his cuts, and sutured them closed. Daylight grew outside, sunlight streaming in through the curtains over the windows. “Might we hang out here while he rests?” I asked her.
“Sure. I have to head out for work pretty soon, so help yourself.”
She finished putting Morgan’s face back together, then eyed him critically. “You’re going to have some nasty scars, I’m afraid.”
Morgan shrugged wearily. “I wasn’t very pretty to begin with.”
As Chelsea went to her room to change, I put her things away. “Go lie on the couch, Morgan,” I suggested.
Morgan didn’t argue. Lying down on the sofa, he rested his head on his folded arm and soon fell asleep. Coming out of her bedroom, changed and ready to leave, she gave me a small bottle of painkillers. “Try to get him to take these,” she said. “I’ll get more antibiotics from work.”
I kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Chelsea. Be careful.”
“I will.”
She left the apartment and I locked the door behind her. Peeking out through the window, I watched the usual activity of people headed for work, or shopping, the usual takedowns from Raphael’s enforcers going on in the street below. I yawned, wondering if I should take a quick nap on Chelsea’s bed. Without some sleep, I’ll be useless.
Thinking that Raphael had no idea where I was, and couldn’t reasonably expect to find me in a human’s apartment, I lay down on her bed. Falling asleep almost as fast as Morgan, I woke a few hours later with noises coming from the other room. Getting up, cautious, I found Morgan up and rooting in Chelsea’s cabinets.
“How are you doing?” I asked around a yawn.
“Looking for something that won’t knock me out to help this pain.”
“Chelsea left those pills for you.”
“I can’t take those; they make me too groggy. We need to talk to Chad about the mechanic, figure out how to get out of here.”
In the bathroom, I found some aspirin and brought those to him. Morgan swallowed several with a grimace, his face swollen and bruised under the long lines of sutures. The rest of his skin looked sallow, pale, and I eyed him with concern.
“Dude, you should stay here and rest. I can go.”
“Not without me.”
“I’ve been surviving a long time without you. I can do it again.”
His brows lowered over his dark, cold eyes; he curled his upper lip. “I don’t go against my orders.”
“And you’ll be useless if there is a fight.”
“Let’s go. We can find something to eat along the way.”
Shaking my head, I followed him from the apartment and down to the street. Lunch was a sandwich from a street vendor, and while I devoured mine, I noticed his difficulty in chewing his own. I made no comment, however, and went with him to the Tiger’s Paw. Chad’s truck wasn’t there, and the doors were still shut and locked.
“Maybe he’s still at the mechanic’s,” I said.
“Probably. Let’s find a place for you to hide while I wait for him.”
“I want to see Jae.”
“Too bad. That’ll have to wait.”
Annoyed as hell at his high-handed attitude toward Jae and me, I opened my mouth to protest. Then shut it again after catching the murderous look he sent me. He was hurting like hell, but he was still a lot bigge
r than I was, and unless I took off running, he’d force me to do what he wanted. “I don’t like you very much,” I snapped.
“I don’t care. Let’s go.”
He took me to a dilapidated house a few blocks from the bar, a cold, dismal place that stunk of mouse turds and cat piss. Dust coated everything in sight, and the cold wind blew through the busted windows. “I know I don’t need anything fancy, but really?”
“Quit bitching. It’s only for a while.”
I scowled, glaring at him. “Then you stay here while I talk to Chad.”
“I’m not the one whose head Raphael’s wants on a pike. Just chill; take a nap or something.”
He left while I was still cussing him out, ignoring me as though I were a yapping little mutt. Leaning my shoulder against the wall, I watched out the broken window until he vanished from sight. Nothing else moved in the neighborhood to provide me with entertainment. With a sigh, I decided to explore the house for anything useful.
Like many structures after the wars, it crumbled in spots, and the roof on the second floor had caved in. Snow from the blizzard still lay in piles in the corners, coated in dead leaves and twigs from the constant wind. The previous occupants had either died or fled and left behind old clothes, pictures, broken crockery, and shattered glass.
In a weathered bureau drawer that had somehow escaped the eyes and hands of looters before me, I found a long, double-bladed knife in a leather sheath. “Holy shit,” I breathed, yanking it out and examining it. Testing its edge with my thumb, I found it was still quite sharp. “You’ll come in handy, I’m sure.”
Pulling up my jean’s leg, I shoved the sheathed blade into my right boot, then snugged the denim down over it. From the outside, it presented no bulge that might be seen, and I could get to it quickly. I finished my exploration of the rest of the house but found nothing else of value.
Since Raphael’s goons would kill anyone caught carrying one, I had never risked keeping a knife or gun on me. While waiting for Morgan to come back, I practiced pulling it from its housing quickly. The movement kept me warm enough and prevented me from becoming too restless and bored. By the time he returned a few hours later, I felt confident I could defend myself with the knife when, not if, the need arose.