by C. T. Adams
Nasil nodded. A tiny voice screamed in the back of his head, but the thrum of power was too strong. He turned to face the snarling wolf. “Derek Thompson. We’ve met before. Do you remember me?”
“Yes.” The word was guttural as the wolf lowered his front haunches while flicking his eyes from the hissing snakes to multieyed spiders. “You were Sargon’s lackey.”
Nasil folded his arms over his chest and smiled darkly. “Hardly a lackey. His confidante, his right hand, but never a lackey. And now I lead, and you will follow my commands. Or,” he said calmly, sweeping his hand to take in the enthralled Sazi around him, “I will snap my fingers and you’ll die a slow and very painful death.”
The wolf’s eyes flickered as he stared skeptically at him. “I’ve battled worse odds . . . and won.”
A laugh rolled out of Nasil’s chest. He could taste the lie on the air. “You’re bluffing. But even if you weren’t, you haven’t yet learned the meaning of fear. Marduc?”
She landed hard on the ground, causing a tremor that made rocks tumble from above. The wolf’s ears flattened against his head. One of the lesser snakes, probably not more than a hundred and fifty pounds, was caught under Marduc’s weight and hissed in abject fear before she closed her talons and sliced him into bloody ribbons. Derek watched the slaughter, though he couldn’t see the cause, until the snake’s head dropped one last time and the mouth opened in death. Then her power dropped him to his belly.
“Crawl before me, wolf, or I will invade your mind and drive you mad before I feast on you.” Marduc’s voice was low and sultry and sweet. Derek turned his eyes up to find the source of the sound instinctively. She took the opportunity to lean her head close to him. Nasil could feel her feathers nick his face as she passed and knew that even thick wolf fur wouldn’t save Derek’s skin from cuts.
But Marduc did more than scrape him. A flash of red sprayed into the air and the wolf yelped. It took Nasil a moment to realize she’d taken a nip from his ear. The tip was gone as though it had never been there and the scent of his panic filled the air. “What do you want from me?” Derek’s voice quavered, just as it had when Sargon went to visit him. He was weak and no fit leader. But that worked well for their purposes.
“There is a knife in a cave near here. I want you to bring it back to us.”
Derek tilted his head, but didn’t move from where he was pressed against the ground, tail between his legs. “That’s all?”
Nasil shook his head. “Not quite. There have been wolves here recently. I found their scent on the brush. If they’ve taken the knife, you’ll follow them and take it away. If you find the knife, you’ll still follow them. Make sure you find and kill the female wolf you smell after you have the knife. Her name is Holly Sanchez.”
The female healer had to die. She could see him, so she most likely could see Marduc. That could ruin their plans. Nasil doubted the girl would be any match for Thompson.
“What does the knife look like?” Derek let out a hiss that would make a snake proud as another small piece of his ear disappeared. Marduc apparently had a foot on him, because he didn’t move away from the pain.
“It’s double-edged and made of obsidian, with a bone handle studded with turquoise.”
A huff of air left the wolf as the invisible weight lifted from him. Nasil felt the stab of Marduc’s feathers against his arm and the flick of her tongue across his chin.
“You have seen the Blade of Tolkrit? It’s nearby?” she hissed.
He nodded. “It’s what I used to—” An odd sensation twisted his stomach. He didn’t like it, whatever it was. He shook his head. “Kill the human before I came to you.” Hadn’t the human had a name? Another shake of his head caused tiny cuts across his face.
Yes. Send the wolf. It’s better if we don’t touch it until the last moment. If it drains him, so much the better. I can feed from the knife when the time comes. That was why it was created—so I will have energy to sustain the young after I bury myself in my nest.
It made sense . . . like stocking a larder for the cold winter months.
“Remember, wolf,” she said with a swing of her head. “Fail me in this and I will let my spiders feast. They prefer to eat you alive.”
The wolf’s eyes flicked to the snapping mandibles of the spiders. He nodded hastily. “I’ll get your knife and remove the woman. And then my debt will be paid, right? I’ll be free?”
Nasil stopped just short of laughing. Once they had the knife, the attacks on the Sazi could begin in truth. “You have twenty-four hours. If you bring back the knife, along with proof you’ve killed the girl, you’ll owe no further debt to the snakes.”
But would he be free? Nasil let the memories of old battles fill his mind. He reveled again in the screams of the dying that had sped his heart, and could still nearly taste the blood and terror of the conquered, who shrank and groveled when he passed. How long had it been since he’d been drunk on the taste of fear?
I think not. Nobody will ever be free again.
Chapter Twenty
HOLLY WOKE WITH a start when a door slammed nearby and the shouts of children filled the air. Bright sunlight glinting off glass made her squint and when she turned to get out of the glare, her funny bone hit the bottom of the table hard enough to make her see stars. That’s when it occurred to her that she was lying sideways in the booth of the RV, her legs planted firmly on the floor. Have I been here all night? She remembered coming back to the trailer to see if her cell phone was charged and ducking under the table to disconnect it from the converter. As consciousness filtered into her brain, Holly realized she ached all over.
Maybe if I move really slow. Inch by inch she pushed away from the thin plastic cushion. One arm was nearly asleep and pins and needles flickered in her muscles until the healing magic began to kick in. So far, so good. It wasn’t until she had one arm under her and started to turn to face the window that her back muscles realized what she was trying to do. Shooting pain flooded her brain and her arm nearly gave out. She sucked in a sharp breath and only let out a small yelp before slamming her good arm on the top of the table to haul herself up the rest of the way.
There was a rustling sound to her left and she turned to see Eric, naked from the waist up under the snow-white sheet, watching her with supreme amusement. God, he looked good enough to eat. His sun-bleached golden hair was mussed, his eyes still sleepy. All those muscles that she’d gotten to play with the previous day rippled and flexed as he stretched slowly with a wide yawn.
“You’d have been more comfortable in the bed, but you fought me every time I tried to move you. So I figured I’d better let you be.”
She didn’t remember that at all. But she did remember dreaming of being safe in a hole and having bad things try to pull her out to eat her. “I didn’t realize I was so tired. Guess I passed out as soon as I sat down.”
He shrugged one shoulder, and his scent drifted to her nose. He smelled good—musky, but clean, like he’d taken a shower before bed. “You’ve had a rough few days. We all have.” He slid his legs to the floor and heat rushed to her face. The memory of those legs wrapped around hers while he—I need to get out of here.
Eric hadn’t yet mentioned her rant to Lucas and Holly wanted to keep it that way. “Think I’ll grab a shower real quick.”
But her brain was ready before her body was, and when she slid out of the booth and stood up in a rush of motion, her legs collapsed under her.
Thickly muscled arms kept her from falling. “Easy there. Not so fast.” The words were a whisper in her ear that made every inch of her body acutely aware of him. Holly felt frozen. One hand was tight around her waist and the other was flat on her thigh. Her leg was totally asleep and so far her magic hadn’t healed it.
Eric began to rub his hand briskly up and down her jean-clad leg and lowered himself until he was sitting on the floor with her sprawled across his lap. Thankfully, when he’d leapt for her, the covers had gone with him. She didn’t
know if he was naked under the covers, and while part of her was curious, the other part—the sane part, said it would be a bad idea to find out.
Holly was staring hard at his neck. Don’t look in those blue eyes. Don’t notice the way his tongue flicks over his lips when he’s nervous or the way he smiles when he sees you. Everything will be fine if you just don’t look.
But apparently, looking had nothing to do with anything, because Eric lowered his head even while she stared dutifully at his neck and locked his lips over hers. Her entire body sprang to attention and her mouth opened without any conscious thought.
His tongue flicked in and out of her mouth and then swirled and wrapped around hers until she couldn’t even think. Her breath was coming in short gasps when he finally pulled back from the kiss and she found she’d put her arms around him at some point, so tight it was hard for him to sit up. “Pity there isn’t room in the shower for two,” he said with enough heat to make her shiver. “I’d love to scrub your back . . . among other things.”
She couldn’t think of what to say, so she just nodded. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was in her throat. And when he skimmed his hand over her, it felt like there were a thousand tiny feathers tickling her. She had to grit her teeth to keep from groaning, but even so, a tiny sound slipped out.
Eric chuckled possessively and her pulse raced even faster. “Now be honest.” He whispered the words, right next to her ear. “Isn’t this better than anything you had before you were a wolf? Why would you want to be human again?”
And there went her warm and fuzzy mood. Holly let out an annoyed sound and moved her arms away from his neck, pushing free of him. “Damn it, Eric. Why’d you have to ruin it? What does that have to do with anything?” She grabbed onto the table to pull herself up and turned her back on him, expecting him to get situated back on the bed.
Except he didn’t go back to the bed. He sat down in the booth, totally buck-ass naked, his erection slowly wilting while he stared at her in confusion. “It has everything to do with this. Holly, when we used to talk at the restaurant, you wanted nothing more in life than to turn. Nothing. It was what you ate, drank, and slept. What’s changed? You wanted to be a wolf, and you are. Terrific. Let’s enjoy the perks that come with it.”
What’s changed? Had he really just asked her that? “Were you even listening when I was talking to Lucas?”
He nodded, frowning. “Yeah, I was. You said that you were abused because you were human. Now you’re not. I’m not getting what the issue is.”
She let out a chuckle and crossed her arms over her chest. “Eric, at the restaurant you talked to an abused, depressed, mixed-up teenager without a shred of self-esteem. I thought that being a wolf would fix everything. All the wolves were confident, strong, and smart.” She tipped her head. “Okay, most of them were smart.” She sat down across the table from him. “I outgrew that. It took me a few years, but I realized I didn’t need fur to be me. I could just be Holly, and that was okay. By the time I was turned, I’d realized just how messed up the wolves were—both individually and as a pack. I wanted no part of them. But I didn’t get a choice.” She turned her eyes to stare out the window at the kids playing. “The kids out there don’t know what they want any more than I did at their age.” She shook her head. “I’d take it all back if I could. Corrine would still be third. I’d be human and would go merrily along with my life. I wasn’t lying to Lucas, Eric. This isn’t what I want.”
He looked thoroughly confused. He was listening, but it just wasn’t sinking in. She could see it in his eyes. “But you’re an alpha. And a healer. You became something more than most wolves. And you want to throw it away? Does that include me too?” He pointed at the floor where the sheet was still splayed sloppily. “You don’t want what we just shared? The magic that flew around the tent when we made love? That wasn’t a bad thing, Holly. If you think it was . . . well, I find that pretty damned offensive.”
She shook her head and replied quietly. “No, sex with you wasn’t bad. It was really, really good. But that’s only one tiny part of all of this. Wouldn’t sex be just as good if one of us was human? You wanted me when I was human. So are you saying that wouldn’t have been as good?”
A small, angry chuckle erupted from him. “You say sex when I say make love. Was that all this was to you? Sex with an animal?”
She really didn’t know what it was. Apparently she took too long to answer, because Eric stood up in a rush and reached for his clothes. He didn’t bother to put them on. But before he stormed out the door, he turned back to her. “You need to figure out what you want in life, Holly. I thought we wanted each other, but if that’s not what you want, tell me now while I can still walk away and find someone who has a little self-esteem. Apparently you still don’t have any, because if you did, you’d be able to be Holly—with or without fur.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but the slam of the door stopped her. Nobody seemed to notice the naked man walking across the crowded parking area. She watched until he opened the door of the main building. Lucas tried to stop him, but Eric just brushed right by, leaving Lucas to stare after him with his head cocked.
Her cell phone was still on the table, showing a full charge. She fingered it, wondering whether she should call Cat again. She’d never really had someone in her life that she needed to talk about. She’d always been the listener in conversations about relationship angst.
Did they even have a relationship?
There was just something about the word that made her stomach feel strange. Dear God, I’m in a relationship with someone.
“And it’s not going very well,” she said sadly to the empty room while staring at the main building.
Maybe it was better not to think about it for a little while. Her fingers flew over the touch screen of her phone as she tried to get to her e-mail account. There was something wrong with the page and after hopping to a few links on the main page, she discovered the Web mail server was offline for upgrades. Great.
She opened her Favorites list and scanned it. There it was—Free Merchandise Unlimited—the somewhat tongue-in-cheek title they’d given the FMU forum, thinking that most people would skip over a site that screamed “I’m going to scam you” that hard. She took a deep breath and tapped the link.
When she clicked on the General Discussion page, the very top thread made her catch her breath.
RIP. We’ll miss you.
She hadn’t yet logged in, but she opened the thread. The posts were all snippets, probably posted from cell phones while on the run. There was a screen name, a location, and either MIA or RIP with Rumored or Confirmed next to it. A dozen posts with sad-faced, shocked, or angry emoticons followed every name. She realized that the first post wasn’t recent. It was from nearly a year ago, so apparently the thread documented deaths over a wider time. She double clicked on the “search this thread” link and entered the name CandySweet into the box. Post 92 listed her as Confirmed and Holly felt sad for her loss all over again. She started back at the top and scrolled down the posts. She knew of most of the early deaths—sometimes the result of something as simple as a car crash or heart attack. Then she saw a name that made her stop dead.
LittleSis. Boulder, CO, RIP. Confirmed.
It was dated the night she survived her first change and became a wolf. The poster wasn’t one she recognized, and hers was the only post the person had made. Someone had signed on with a new user name to leave the information, so nobody would know where the post came from.
She hesitated before clicking on the log-in screen. Would she still even have an account? It doesn’t matter. If I don’t, I’ll make a new one. They deserved to know about the others, even if they didn’t want her around. After a deep breath, she tried to sign in, and found she still could. She immediately went to start a post on the thread. Just typing the letters was somehow cathartic. She snuffled and moved the phone a little farther away when her tears began to fall. She didn’t wa
nt to get the screen wet.
Rosebud, Coober Pedy, South Australia, RIP. Confirmed.
Char186, Coober Pedy, South Australia, RIP. Confirmed
She kept typing names in a list, until Nobodystoady, Hissyfit, DickODoom, and the others were immortalized in print. Then she dropped a line and typed:
LittleSis, Rumors of RIP premature. Turned. Confirmed.
Finally, she dropped down two lines and added: Breakneck, RIP. Confirmed. Admins and Super-Mods, please take note.
Another deep breath and then she pressed the Post Reply button. Her avatar, a fuzzy wolf puppy with little sparkles around the brown eyes, looked out at her for the first time in a very long while. She stared at the list for what must have been several minutes and then hit the Refresh button. A flurry of posts followed hers. Most were the same sad faces as on previous posts, but there were some actual comments and they made more tears well in her eyes.
OMG, LittleSis! I’m soooo sorry! Rosebud was the best. Hang in there.
Welcome back LittleSis. Sorry for you—for both reasons.
Love and kisses, LittleSis. 411? What’s the sitch?
Of course, there were a few snotty replies, but there always were. Yet the majority of people were glad she was there, and nobody commented too harshly on her confirmed turn.
But the one at the end made her pause.
Confirm again Nobodystoady. Are you certain?:(I’ve been worried sick.
She looked at the screen name. It was Matthew’s own profile. Someone he knew well was logging on to find out information. Was this a parent, or his sister? She’d never met Beth, but he’d spoken of her often.
She hit the Post Reply again. Can’t confirm visual. But have it on good authority. Dalebud survived the attack and relayed. Private Message me and I’ll give you more details.
Another flurry of reponses followed, and each bore only one word: Attack?
They didn’t know? How could they not know about the snake attacks, or “the cure,” with all the packs scattered and people dead?