by Lisa M Airey
She walked through the open studs of the dividing walls of her home like a spirit, disembodied and disoriented. The pain overwhelmed her. Then she moved beyond it into a strange kind of numbness. She locked her jaws as her survival instinct kicked in.
Fight. Naturally, she would fight.
She heard the soft click of toenails behind her. He was coming for her as a wolf. She inhaled deeply, once, twice, just trying to still the rapid beating of her heart. She knew how to kill an attacking dog. And she had the appropriate weapon. She hefted the re-bar in her hand.
Lync approached her with his lips drawn back over his canines. Was he was smiling? He was smiling. Her stomach knotted. She acknowledged him with solemn eyes.
He padded though the trail of blood she had left across the plywood, leaving his red footprints across the blond sub-floor. She watched as he finger painted their home with red. And she waited for him to get close. He had to leap. It was then that she’d smash the re-bar into his forelegs and send him to the ground. Then, when he was down, she could crush his skull.
She squeezed the metal rod, rotating it in her palms with nervous energy as he approached. She wasn’t a killer, but she’d kill if she had to. She thought of Gray. Those were his words.
They watched each other. Hunter and hunted. Then, they both stiffened when another set of toenails clicked softly across the plywood.
“Gray?” she mouthed, but no sound escaped her. Couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be back until Saturday.
Lync pivoted quickly, obviously considering the feet behind him more worthy of his attention. She watched her attacker as his black hairs bristled.
A huge white wolf walked into their line of sight. It was not Gray. It was not a wolf she’d seen before. But it was obvious that Lync recognized the animal confronting him, and he wasn’t happy about it.
The two wolves circled each other silently, ignoring her completely. Slowly, she backed away. A ladder lay against the outside wall. It was propped against one of the first floor doorjambs. She gripped the rungs as the animals ripped into each other and half-slid, half-fell fifteen feet to the ground below.
Although she had knocked the breath out of herself with the fall, she tore away like the wind. The guttural cries, vicious snarling and horrific snapping of jaws were like liquid mercury upon her tired feet. She flew. She didn’t feel the ground beneath her. She flew.
Dan Keating was making the rounds on Friday evening when he noticed Julie’s car still parked in the veterinary parking lot. He glanced at his watch. Seven thirty. This was a little odd. Cole and company usually closed up at four p.m. on Fridays.
The part of him that still loved Julie wanted to make sure that she was okay. The cop in him insisted upon it. Either way, with all that had fallen between them, the man in him was uncomfortable about the thought of looking her in the eye.
He parked the squad car and stepped inside. A purse and car keys sat on the reception counter.
“Julie?” he called. His eyes drifted to the floor and he frowned. Blood. “Julie?” he called out again. When he received no answer, he unholstered his gun. He walked to the back, pistol in hand. As he pushed open the swinging door, his foot crunched on glass. The white walls were specked in red, smeared in red, but the room was empty. He stepped back carefully, trying to avoid walking over the trail of blood that led from the back to the reception area.
He followed it quickly, tracking it to the parking lot, tracking it to a spot, mid-gravel where it just disappeared.
He raced to his squad car and called for backup and issued an all points bulletin for Julie Walker, wounded, possible kidnap victim. He sent a squad car to check out her home then had the precinct check in with emergency in the off chance someone had taken her to the hospital.
He called Cole. Then he called Gray.
The big Sioux answered the call gruffly. Obviously, he had caller ID. Dan looked at his watch. No. It was pushing 11 p.m. on the East Coast. Chances were, he had caught the man in bed asleep or falling asleep. For a moment, Dan was at a loss for words.
“Gray, I need to ask you a question, and I need for you to answer it as best you can.”
The phone was silent.
“If Lync had Julie, where would he take her?”
“What are you saying?” Gray was on his feet immediately. His voice, loud, panicked and commanding, probably carried throughout all of lower Manhattan.
“I don’t think we have a lot of time, Gray,” said Dan. “Where would he take her?”
“The mountain,” said Gray, his eyes closed. “My building site.”
“You need to come back.”
“Is she hurt?”
Dan hesitated. “I don’t know.”
Gray opened his eyes to silence. “You lie to me,” he whispered.
“You need to come back,” Dan repeated, his voice as neutral as he could make it.
Gray booked himself on the next flight out. He packed within minutes. As he slipped into a waiting taxi, he called Ben Half Moon.
“Julie is in trouble and I’m in New York City. Dan Keating thinks Lync has her.”
“I’ll gather the men.”
“I need you to check out the house she’s renting—you know, it’s the old Sweeting place. Check out the veterinary office and my building site too.”
“Yes.”
“If he takes her into hill country, you’ll need trackers.”
Two hours passed before he got another call. It was from Dan. Gray had just boarded the first leg of his flight when his cell phone chirped. Dan tried to explain the crime scene at the building site. Nothing was making much sense. The only thing that Gray could hold on to – the only thing that sunk in – was that Lync was dead and Julie was nowhere to be found.
36
Julie shot through the forest like an arrow, sure and swift. Her feet pounded the earth in heavy percussion, the briary undergrowth ripping at her ankles until they were red with blood. She didn’t feel a thing as the thorns cut her skin. Her adrenaline nulled everything but the desire to escape.
Get away. Get away. Get away. The thought drummed to the rhythm of her heartbeat.
Within minutes, she heard footfall behind her, catching up. Catching up! She sobbed in desperation and ran all the faster. A painful stitch grew on her right side and she held her ribs tightly as she ran, bound as she was by the wrists.
He was behind her. She heard him. He was beside her, the foliage rustled to his footfall. He was in front of her. Of a sudden, she slammed into a huge wall of man who cradled her firmly.
“Stop,” he said. “Just stop.” He lifted her off the ground and held her immobile. “Lync is dead.”
“You.” It was all she could manage to say, she could scarcely draw a breath. Hayden loosened his hold, allowing her to pull back from him by a fraction. “You were the white wolf?”
“Me,” he said, with a wry tug at the corner of his mouth. She wanted to believe in the smile, but his eyes had a predatory look that unsettled her.
“Could you untie me?”
“I could, but I won’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I need some of your time,” Hayden said carefully. “We will travel deeper into the Sacred Hills. There are caves there and I have gear stashed away. We can talk. I will tend to your wounds.”
They both heard the approaching car. She wheeled about drawing a deep lungful of air, but he was fast and intuitive. A huge hand stifled her scream. His hold was iron and brutally tough. “Do you want me to gag you?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head side to side.
“Then you must cooperate.”
He held her at arm’s length and gave her an abrupt shake as the car passed. It was moving at a very fast clip.
“We will walk and we will walk quickly. You will go where I tell you and you will be absolutely silent at all times. Do I make myself clear?”
She nodded.
“Don’t be stupid, Julie,” he said, his eyes fi
xed on hers. “There is too much at stake for all concerned.”
They hiked through the underbrush until the sun’s rays grew thin and cool and blue. Finn joined them. He was white and blue-eyed in wolf form with just a hint of copper at the paws. She heard men calling for her at one point. Hayden had given her a stern look when the voices echoed off the hills. She returned his stare, her eyes full of reproach.
She had been breaking tree limbs and scuffing her heels from the outset doing her best to leave signs of their passage. As the sun set, she knew that the search would halt until dawn the next day. Humans, as good as they were at tracking, relied on their eyes. Her chest tightened. She hoped that they would search for her, but after marrying Gray and her wholesale disenfranchisement from the Fallston police force, she wasn’t so sure.
Hayden led them to a small stream and bathed her bloody ankles. The cold water stung miserably as he cleaned the cuts and deep lacerations. He retrieved a knapsack from the hollow of a fallen tree trunk, took out a homemade salve and coated the cuts and abrasions, soothing them in an instant. He put a butterfly patch on her split eyebrow and rinsed her face of blood. Again, he applied salve.
“Let me see the wounds on your back,” he said.
Despite her protests, Hayden unbuttoned her blouse to the mid-point. She dropped her head against his chest and sobbed. He slid the bloodied cloth from her shoulders and turned her roughly around. Her tears upset him.
He looked at the deep puncture wounds. “Are you up-to-date on tetanus?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he said, “Then, I’m going to clean the wounds, then pack them with a penicillin salve, but this is going to be quite uncomfortable for you. He took out a pocket knife and cut off a healthy portion of her skirt hem. He folded it into a thick wad. “Bite down on this. The wounds are deep and jagged.”
She turned her head when he tried to insert the cloth into her mouth. “Have it your way,” he said. He cleaned the first wound as if she were under anesthesia. She fought the pain for as long as she could before releasing one long, gut-wrenching scream of abject agony. Although she fainted, her voice carried down-mountain on a current of cold air.
Dan was refereeing between a cluster of by-the-book cops and group of hostile Indians about who was in charge of the search party when her cry reached them on the wind. It silenced them all and galvanized them into action.
Dan closed his eyes and locked his jaw. “No more discussion,” he said. “We go.” He pivoted his head to the Sioux Chief. “Ben, leave a tracker here at the house for Gray when he arrives. Knowing Gray, he’ll catch up quick enough.” Dan turned to the men. “If you see a wolf, shoot it on sight.”
When Hayden finished tending to the wounds on her back, he woke her by bathing her face in ice-cold stream water. When she regained her senses, she showed him her right wrist. The wound still bled.
Hayden appraised the gash and lifted his eyes to meet hers. “I will need to cauterize this.”
Finn, in wolf form, whined softly.
Julie knew what that meant and could scarcely draw a breath, just short little ones. She was hyperventilating. Fish symbolize the ability to hide emotion, she thought, rolling through the fetishes and their meanings. Fox are adept at camouflage, they walk unnoticed. Frogs bring rain, abundance. They symbolize fertility.
Hayden built a small fire and she watched as he heated a knife until it was red-hot and glowing. Moles are protectors of growing crops. They rule the underworld. Moose are headstrong and unstoppable. Mountain lions are resourceful. Mice are masters of detail.
Hayden approached her holding up the folded piece of skirt fabric and a hot knife. She shuddered, and opened her mouth for the gag.
There was a brief moment of searing, burning pain, followed by a sharp and throbbing ache. She bit down convulsively on the wad of fabric wedged between her teeth. Her pulse seemed to emanate from the very wound itself. Every heartbeat was magnified there. Thum-thum, thum-thum, thum-thum. It throbbed like a drum. Hayden wrapped her wrist, then pulled back.
She was drenched in her own blood, and under his scrutiny, she became acutely aware of her wretched personal state. She reeked of blood, all copper and metallic. She reeked of fear, so acrid and sour, but she also smelled of fight, all tangy and spicy.
Hayden observed her as if she were a zoo animal. She spat out the gag with difficulty. Having no saliva, the fabric clung to her lips and tongue before falling free.
“This is hardly a rescue,” she said. “You may be the alpha wolf, but you are no white knight. I can’t imagine why anyone would call you leader.”
“You are in no position to antagonize, Julie Walker.”
She turned her head to watch the white wolf that hovered in the background. She stared at him accusingly. “What part of this lycanthrope culture am I missing, Hayden? Gray tells me that he is, above all things, human. I believe him. You and Finn and Lync are something altogether different.” She watched the white wolf flinch at her words, then she turned her eyes to Hayden. “Explain this to me.”
Hayden grew uncomfortable. “He knew love.”
“Who did?”
“Gray. Despite being forcefully sucked into a lycanthrope union, Gray’s mother loved him.”
“And your mother?”
“She despised me. I was the product of a rape. Chances are, Lync was too.”
“And Finn?”
Her question was greeted with silence.
She frowned. “So you lycanthropes just keep perpetuating the same mistakes, right?”
“We have needs.”
“Everybody has needs. Don’t even go there. You get as good as you give.”
That night, they camped in a cave. Hayden had stashed food, blankets, kindling and logs for a fire in a dark, inner recess. They ate beef jerky and drank bottled water.
Finn served as border patrol.
She was inordinately thirsty. In fact, she was much more thirsty than hungry, but she forced herself to eat. She was dead on her feet and although she was silent, her body just screamed in pain.
She looked at Hayden as she ate. He watched her as well. He was big, like Gray, and just as strong. He was less patient and even more demanding. “What are your intentions?” she asked firmly. The question took every ounce of strength she possessed.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he said slowly. The intensity of his stare made her drop her eyes. “I would like to know about your courtship,” said Hayden. “Every detail.”
She told him.
“You slept together platonically?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes.”
“Naked?”
“At times. Usually during his full moon moments, he would feel the need to feel me.”
Hayden was silent for so long that she finally had to ask, ”What is so unusual about that? He was being patient.”
He waved away her words as if swatting a gnat. “Gray waited for you to accept him?” he asked, his face non-believing.
“Of course,” she replied. “He warned me about the bonding commitment and his demands on me. He wanted to make sure I’d be okay with his overwhelming self. Being a lycanthrope, you must surely know how demanding you all are.”
“I took my wife.”
“And? How is that working out?”
“She died several years ago.”
“Suicide?”
She saw his muscles bunch in readiness. He was going to hit her. Instead, he rolled out a thick blanket and started to bank the fire. “Come here, Julie.”
“Absolutely not. I’ll freeze to death before I share your blanket. I know all about buffalo robes.”
He smiled. “I’m not giving you the freeze-to-death option.” They stared at each other. “I will not touch you tonight.”
“You won’t touch me ever.”
“Enough,” he said, his voice angry. “Come here.”
“No.”
Sure. He was banking the coals, but she was on fire. “You
can force me. Yes, you can,” she said heatedly, “But there is no honor in that. You will betray your friendship to my husband and you will dishonor everything that is sacred in my marriage. I have willingly bonded with your kind. I grappled with this, Hayden. When I said ‘yes’ to Gray, I knew what I was doing. I chose to bond with Gray, and I choose to carry his child.”
Hayden was livid. “So be it,” he said. He grabbed her wrists ruthlessly and staked her to the ground against the far wall. “You sleep well. I offer you my warmth. If you choose the cold, that is your choice.”
She was never more grateful for a hard, cold unfeeling piece of earth. She welcomed its unyielding surface with a train-wrecked soul. His rough treatment re-opened the cut on her wrist. She laid her cheek upon it and pressed down as hard as she could to staunch the flow of blood.
She fell asleep in a little pool of red.
Hayden roused her early. He frowned when he saw her blood-caked face but quickly put two and two together. He re-dressed the cut, wrapping it more tightly and washed her face. He was silent as he did this. Focused. A muscle jumped sporadically near his jaw line. He didn’t apologize, but she hadn’t expected him to.
Then, they were on the move again. They walked quickly and with a purpose. She was weak, but she trudged on without complaint, never faltering. She walked by his side, but she looked at her feet or looked away. It was all she possessed by way of passive aggression, tied as she was, and silenced by his command.
At one point, Hayden sent Finn back down-mountain. His job was to distract and defray the attention of those in pursuit. Julie was injured and moved too slowly. The search party would be gaining on them.
“What do you know about wolves?” asked Hayden as they marched.
“What do you want me to know?”
“Have you no respect, woman?”
“Not until it is earned.”
Hayden moved so quickly that Julie had scarcely a moment before his hand grabbed her shirt and her feet left the ground.