Before I could fling myself between the two males, though, a very familiar voice stopped us all in our tracks. “Boys, boys, boys,” Ginger called cheerfully from the far end of the block. She walked toward us as she spoke, flicking long tresses back over one shoulder to join the trailing ends of her colorful scarf.
“No fisticuffs allowed so close to the holidays,” the trouble twin admonished. Then, more seriously, “It’s time to focus, folks. Because Wolfie finally managed to track Grey’s car. And All-Pack starts earlier than we thought. I’m stealing Fen, so it looks like the two of you are partners. Better figure out how to get along.”
AS BEST I COULD TELL via telephone, my work partner and my life partner hadn’t killed each other by the time I reached the first in the string of barrier islands skirting North Carolina’s eastern coast the next day shortly before dawn. In fact, the duo seemed to have reached a rather gentlemanly truce once I stepped out of the picture and stopped riling everyone up.
Unfortunately, the case of the slashing serial killer only grew murkier by the hour. After finding the house empty, FBI agents had scoured the neighborhood more thoroughly, turning up an eyewitness account confirming that our not-so-friendly enforcer and the supposed killer were different people after all. The two were traveling together, though, and Grey appeared to have been in the lead when he’d forced the older man into his rental vehicle over twenty-four hours in the past.
I’d chewed on my fingernails as I listened to the pursuit play out over the course of the night. Wolfie’s GPS data led Robert and my mate west for several hours before they stumbled across the enforcer’s rental car abandoned by the side of the road. But there the trail disappeared as quickly as it had arisen, no visible or olfactory trails leading away from the empty vehicle...just another portable charcoal grill smoldering in the nearly melted snow.
Worse, there were, as yet, no signs of Nina’s twins. At over twenty-four hours since they’d been wrested out of their mother’s loving arms, all of us knew that time was running out for the one-body infants.
But: “He’s close,” Hunter had told me during his final call two hours earlier. Since we’d spoken last, a helpful gas-station attendant had pointed Robert toward a remote cabin high in the North Carolina mountains. My mate was checking in to let me know that phones were going off and unlikely partners were going in. The moment of truth had arrived.
“Be careful,” I admonished, wishing I could be in two places at once. No, make that three—the Arborville town meeting as much as my own time at All-Pack would decide once and for all whether our pack really had a home to return to.
Still, I wasn’t quite as concerned about that particular showdown as I was with the idea of my mate hunting a powerful uber-alpha with only a single one-body agent by his side. After all, Amanda Sellers was unlikely to use her teeth for anything other than backbiting commentary. Grey, on the other hand, would be intent upon tearing out throats.
“Win us a territory,” Hunter had countered, his voice warm and certain in my ear.
And then the call had ended and I fell back into the interior of a car lit only by gently glowing dials and digits on the dashboard. Ginger was driving while our final companion slept in the back seat, the quiet breathing of both pack mates creating an oasis of serenity in my otherwise muddled life.
“Want to swap?” I asked the twin after repositioning ten times then finally giving up on joining Sinsa in slumber. But Ginger only glanced over with mischievous eyes, pushed the gas pedal down a little harder, and shook her head.
Because we were late. We were very, very late. And as I mentally mapped out the day to come, I could only hope that three young females were able to stand up against the strongest warriors all seven Coastal clans had to offer.
Chapter 21
OUR THIRD COMPANION woke with the sun. “It’s beautiful,” emoted the young black woman, who I was pretty sure had never traveled outside her home state before that day.
And, as I watched the water beside us turn from gray to blue in reaction to the sun creeping above the horizon, I had to admit that Sinsa was right. The several-mile-long bridge leading from the mainland to the northernmost island felt like a division between our pack’s past and our future. Meanwhile, the rising sun gave the whole scene an air of breathless anticipation.
Pelicans rested on pilings, seagulls swirled on the breeze before dipping down to scoop fish out of the water, and even the air streaming in through the car’s vents smelled like salt. We’d arrived—now we just had to follow Hunter’s advice and win ourselves a territory.
Swiveling in my seat, I graced the car’s third inhabitant with a good-morning smile more honest than the one I’d welcomed her with the day before. Because when Ginger had initially shown up at Goodpasture’s house, telling me that territorial supplicants would be required to make their own way through a gauntlet of naysayers to attain the gathering location, I’d immediately started cursing my own ineptitude at information gathering. Why had I allowed myself to become sidetracked by the ally issue, never once asking how new territorial rights were granted or denied in this region’s All-Pack?
Only once that particular wave of self-loathing had crashed over my back and dissipated into foam did I take the time to glance into the car, packed and ready to rush us to our destination. Then, I’d cursed again, but silently, in reaction to Ginger’s choice of entourage.
The trouble was, we didn’t have time to return to Wolf Landing and gather more backers, which meant I was stuck with the bare-bones crew the twin had selected. And Ginger, in her infinite wisdom, had chosen only herself, plus this young bloodling who’d become a two-legged member of our clan a mere twenty-four hours in the past. Did the trouble twin really think the three of us were sufficient manpower to cut through the best offensive forces the other clans had to offer?
At the time, I’d thought my friend was nuts. But now, as I took in the slightly wicked smile that reminded me so much of the girl’s more familiar lupine expression, I had to admit that Sinsa had been a perfect addition to our All-Pack crew after all. The three of us were fast, smart, and wily. No matter what Stormwinder and company threw at us, we’d make it to the gathering intact.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” I started. But then my phone buzzed against my hip and I fumbled it out of my pocket, hoping for an update from my absent mate. Had Grey been overcome and the twins saved so quickly? Crossing virtual fingers, I accepted the call even as I pressed the phone up against my ear.
The caller wasn’t Hunter, though. Instead, a voice hissed so quietly I could barely tell she was female. I definitely couldn’t muster a positive ID. “Everyone else is gone and they’re attacking.”
Immediately, I started running through possible callers in my mind. Because my answer would depend on who this was, where she was, and who was attacking.
Then the pack bond kicked in and solved the mystery for me. Lupe.
I hadn’t thought the metaphysical tether would connect me with anyone at this distance, except possibly my mate. Honestly, the bond had been pretty hit or miss even in close quarters recently, the connection I’d built from scratch after breaking Wolfie’s gifted linkage not nearly as durable as the original.
But now I felt as well as heard the young woman on the other end of the line. Her anxiety twisted my gut into knots and her rapid heart rate accelerated my own. Looked like Lupe and I were tied together in a way that transcended the hundreds of miles separating us.
Still, I wasn’t actually picking up on many details because the teenager’s surroundings were pitch dark, only the sound of gently dripping water and heavy breathing entering her ears. And, via the tether, those same sounds filtered into my own brain along with a nearly overpowering aroma of fear.
Run, run, run. Hide, hide, hide, Lupe’s wolf demanded.
“Where are you? Who’s attacking?” I said aloud, hoping to guide the teenager back onto the right track. And, in reply, a cascade of memories overwhelmed me.
Our pack minus the one-bodies and Lupe heading up the mountainside for an early morning run. Celia driving away with Nina in hopes a visit to the local coffee shop would pep up the latter’s dwindling belief in her daughters’ safe return. Lupe in a snit, refusing to join either party.
Then a knock on the otherwise empty community house’s door, Aborville’s mayor tapping her foot impatiently on the porch. Behind the human, a startling sight in the distance where trees encircled the end of Wolf Landing’s driveway.
Outpack wolves streaming out of the forest and toward the community building. Wolves kicking up a cloud of dust as they raced up the gravel road. Wolves silent as death with murder in their eyes as they made a beeline for Lupe’s location.
Pulling Amanda into the house, ignoring the one-body’s complaints. Dragging the woman to the fireplace and doctoring both of their feet. Then, running, running, as fast as they both could run away from invading shifters who were even then reaching the other side of the building that only barely shielded the two from view.
Pulling open the heavy wooden door of the root cellar two hundred feet removed from the community building. Pushing the terrified mayor inside and slamming the door to shroud them both in darkness.
A spark of light. Amanda’s phone. The mayor dialing 911 as quickly as her fingers could fly across the plastic.
Snatching, grabbing, the phone flying off into the darkness and splintering against the stone wall.
Then watching, waiting for the invaders to find them. To wrest open the door. To tear them out of their hiding place.
Light would burn against dilated pupils. The sharp scent of blood would fill the air. Soon, it would all be over.
Calm. I told Lupe with as much evenness as I could muster, staying silent this time so the invaders wouldn’t hear. My own heart was now attempting to beat out of my chest, the teenager’s terror contagious via the pack bond that united us.
But fear would do neither of us any good. Instead, I praised her, slowly, gently. You did good. You did awesome. You saved the mayor’s life.
Whether Amanda’s life would remain saved even if the invaders failed to locate the duo was up for debate. The woman had been less than pleased when she discovered rescue dogs located in her town’s backyard. Would she really remain silent after learning that those “dogs” were actually wolves? And werewolves to boot?
No, we wouldn’t be able to let Amanda walk free with that incendiary information lodged in her brain. But I couldn’t afford to think about the future now. Instead, I had to focus on survival for Lupe. Survival for our pack.
Because this issue was much larger than two people hiding in a root cellar, I realized abruptly. Hunter and I had been drawn away for the express purpose of leaving our pack unguarded. Acres had basically told me as much while passive-aggressively leading me on an endless tour of his mate’s garden. The bloodlings were assets that the other alphas wanted.
And what werewolves wanted, they took.
I trusted Wolfie and Terra to protect the other youngsters. I trusted Glen and Cinnamon and Lia to fight to the death to ensure the outpack wolves didn’t get what they’d come for.
But my friends would be elated with the joy of a shared hunt when they rushed back down the mountainside. They’d be returning to a home they considered safe through trees they considered their own territory. They wouldn’t be watching, wary, expecting a trap.
And they wouldn’t arrive in time to protect the shivering two-leggers crammed into Wolf Landing’s root cellar unless they knew invaders were already on the mountain. Luckily, Lupe had a way to call in the big guns without setting a single toe outside her hidey-hole.
You have to pull up the pack bond and contact them, I told my friend down our shared tether even as the girl’s scared breathing ratcheted up the tension yet further. Her wolf would be fighting against the human half’s control at this very moment, I knew. And what would happen when that wolf was released, alone in a dark, cramped space with only an untrusted one-body for company?
The result wouldn’t be pretty. So I firmed up my resolve and broadcast my demand more firmly down the iridescent rope that connected us. Lupe, you need to listen to me and do as I say.
But the girl wasn’t swayed. I can’t! she wailed. They won’t let me in!
I’m too far away to do it for you, I told the teenager honestly. I’d try, of course, but the chances of me connecting with anyone other than Lupe at this extreme distance were poor to none. Ginger might be able to prod her sibling down their own personal twin tether, but the best chance was for Lupe to reach out to companions who’d spent days and weeks and months working and playing by her side. Companions who couldn’t be more than a mile away from her current location. You have to at least try.
I tried! the bloodling countered.
Now the emotion streaming down the tether was tinged with disappointment, with disillusionment. Lupe had been expecting me to make everything better. I was the alpha. All she had to do was call and I’d save the day.
And while I was flattered by the girl’s faith in me, I couldn’t exactly snap my fingers and make the invaders disappear. So, more forcefully than before, I told her: You have to try again.
Then Lupe was abruptly gone, the phone falling out of my fingers as the car lurched beneath my butt.
“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Ginger, slamming on the brakes. We skidded on sand, screeching to a halt. And when I opened my eyes at last to take in my physical surroundings, I lost all ability to breathe.
However far we’d driven while I was intent upon my inner dialogue, we were now deep in the heart of the Outer Banks. Scrubby trees stretched to the Pamlico Sound on our right while tall dunes on our left blocked a view of the ocean that could barely be heard in the distance.
There were no houses, cars, or one-bodies in sight. Instead, the narrow island highway before us abruptly filled with a posse of angry wolves.
Chapter 22
OUR ENEMIES SHIFTED in the open, not bothering to glance around in search of observers. They knew that their sheer presence as a living roadblock would halt our car’s forward momentum, and they didn’t care who caught sight of their super-human transformation in the process.
Electricity behind my back suggested that so many werewolves shifting in such a short amount of time had triggered Sinsa’s change of form as well. But Ginger and I remained resolutely human as several males stalked toward us along the sand-scoured road.
There were six enemies in total. All young. Seething with testosterone. Complete strangers.
But they recognized me...or so I assumed once the lead shifter made a beeline for my door rather than heading toward the driver’s side. He tapped on the thin sheet of glass separating me from his half-feral presence, then his teeth bared into a shifter snarl.
For an instant, I was back in the root cellar with Lupe. Damp, dark. Panting breaths drawing closer. Air acrid with terrified sweat.
But I couldn’t help the bloodling if I failed at whatever test had been set in front of my physical form. So, ripping my mind free from Lupe’s frantic clinging, I instead glanced quickly in Ginger’s direction.
I’d felt my companion tuning in to my internal conversation but couldn’t be sure she understood what I was asking now. Would she manage to ignore this earthly battle and instead focus on attempting to contact her twin? I could only hope so as I rolled down my window and complied with the male’s silent demand.
“Not worried about unwitting bystanders?” I berated the stranger, knowing I sounded like a schoolmarm but hoping a bit of bluster would throw him off his game. Despite my admonition, the ambush location had been well chosen, with nothing but sand dunes on either side and with no vehicles apparent either before or behind us. Help definitely wasn’t on the way.
Back to fake it ‘til you make it, I thought, sitting up straighter and pretending the loss of the transparent barrier between us didn’t make me itch to pull out my sword and slice threateningly at the air. Unfortu
nately, I was trapped within the metal husk of the car with barely enough room to turn sideways, let alone to draw a weapon. Once again, I was unable to protect myself with anything other than words.
Unfazed by my tough stance, the male leaned closer. His head jutted forward in a show of lupine threat even as his fingers curled closed around the hint of window glass still exposed between us. In stark contrast to the wintry air rushing in the open window, I could feel his hot breath pressing against my bare skin, the sensation sending tiny hairs erect all over my body.
“National Seashore,” my opponent answered once the blood was pounding frantically in my ears and my breathing had accelerated to a staccato rasp. “Down season.”
His terseness—a sign of a rampant wolf—was nearly as unsettling as his proximity. But I maintained a polite smile anyway...until a strong compulsion lapped up against my skin, pulling against my muscles and nearly thrusting me out of my seat before I knew what was happening.
The intensity of the tug suggested that my enemy’s physical strength was the least of my worries. And as my limbs began moving without my consent, it became obvious I wouldn’t like the result if I succumbed to his compulsion.
Luckily, my inner beast was stronger and faster than she’d been just a few months earlier. Soundlessly, she fled on swift paws, running faster than the compulsion could follow down through chest to stomach, then deeper into the dark recesses of our shared body. In seconds, I was left to face our opponents alone.
Well, not entirely alone. The slam of one car door closing and the creak of a second one opening proved that Ginger had taken advantage of the males’ tunnel vision to disembark and release our lupine companion from the back seat as well. Together, my allies stalked toward our shared opponents, rounding the rear bumper and coming into view on my right-hand side.
Despite the fresh forces, our contingent was clearly outnumbered and obviously outmatched. Ginger’s sharp tongue and Sinsa’s spunk aside, my crew mates were considerably smaller and weaker than the shifters they faced down. And my own inability to fight off the male’s compulsion in the traditional fashion proved we were weak in other areas as well.
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