by H. A. Wills
“Think you can take me?” he heaves through gritted teeth, dropping the gun. “You’ll never beat me.”
“No,” Callie screams, and in a split second, there’s another pop of the gun, and it feels like a spike laced with acid stabs me in the gut.
The world begins to sway beneath me, and my jaw relaxes as I fall over. In his uninjured hand is the gun that I now know is filled with silver bullets. Blood coats my underbelly, and though this isn’t a killing shot, I’ll grow weaker by the second as long as the bullet stays inside me.
“Now your turn,” the Alpha snarls at Callie, struggling to sit up and hold the gun steady.
The frost is no longer in my imagination, instead crusting the ground, the trees, and crawling toward the Alpha, while pellet sized hail rains from the sky. In the center of the chaos, barefoot and wrapped in my flannel, she stands with her arms outstretched in a wide V.
“No, it’s your turn,” she announces, the wind swelling with her words, “and I judge you lacking.”
Suddenly there’s a bright light, a searing pain across my left shoulder, and I’m thrown several feet before losing consciousness.
∞∞∞
I don’t know how long I was out, only that for the first few seconds I’m awake I’m completely blinded. The air is filled with an overwhelming collection of scents: violent rainstorms, burnt air, ash, plants growing from damp earth, and something I have no name for, but it’s pure and welcoming. I sneeze, shaking my head and blinking.
When I can see again, it’s like the whole world stopped. The sky is clear and silent. No lightning. No thunder. No wind. No hail. Or any other type of weather. It’s so quiet, that if it weren’t for my own ragged breaths, I’d think I’d gone deaf.
I shift back to my human form, glad the ground is no longer ice. Gritting my teeth so hard a normal person would be worried about chipping a tooth, I dig for the bullet in my lower stomach and with a few clawed fingers, successfully remove it. The silver burns in my hand as I fling it into the brush. Warm blood pools on my abs and drips down my hip.
Painfully, I roll to my hands and knees and start searching for the Alpha, but there’s no sign of him. Only a large straight path that seems to go on forever cut through the forest with no sign of the trees that once stood.
At first I fear that he got away and I’m going to have to hunt him down before he sicks the entire pack on Callie and me, when in the distance, the howls of over a hundred wolves shake the darkness. What once felt like lost threads now surge to thick ropes tying me to each one of them and them to me. The Alpha is dead. I am the new Alpha.
Shit. What did she do?
Immediately, I search for Callie and find her collapsed several feet away at the base of the large boulder that marks the traditional path into the forest. There’s a dark smear of blood down the rock face. Terror claws through me, because she’s not moving and doesn’t look to be breathing.
I scramble to my feet, trying to get to her as fast as possible, and skin my knees as I stumble to the ground next to her. Quickly, I gather her into my arms, and she hangs limp and unmoving, her eyes staring emptily at the sky. No, this can’t be happening. Not now. Not after all this.
“Reina,” I shout, frantically shaking her. Obscene amounts of blood coat half her face, soak the flannel shirt she’s wearing, and begin to drip along my fingers and down my arms. Begging, I whisper into her hair, “Come back. Please. No me dejes.”
Relief so powerful I nearly collapse washes through me, when a wet wheeze passes between her lips. I pull back to look into her eyes, and she slowly blinks back at me.
“Callie?” I breathe, unsure what to say or do. She should be fine. She should be healing, but blood continues to drip down my arm.
“You’re hurt,” she murmurs, her weak fingers reaching for my shoulder.
I catch her hand, holding it in my own before she gets too far. It’s only because she points it out, that I realize there’s still a hot pain there, which makes no sense. I shifted.
“I’m okay,” I tell her, unsure if it’s true, but there are bigger concerns. Like why isn’t she healing?
She nods, no more than a subtle shift of her chin up and down. Her gaze drifts back to the sky and tears slowly begin to leak down her face. I don’t know what to do. I need to get her help, but I don’t know where is safe.
“What happened?” I ask, glancing at the unnerving emptiness where innumerable amounts of trees, brush, and wildlife once lived.
“Guided my magic and let go,” she answers to the sky, her husky voice thick.
That doesn’t really tell me what happened to the Alpha, but we’ll figure out that answer later.
“Callie,” I utter as calmly as possible, while panic snakes through me over a completely different threat. “Tell everyone I killed the Alpha. Do you understand? I killed the Alpha.”
Slowly she focuses on me, and a world of pain I don’t understand faces me. Not of the body. But of the soul, and it nearly cripples me.
“I killed him,” she whispers and starts to tremble. “I felt him go.”
There’s a finality to her words that reaches past death, and a cold shiver runs up my spine. She is a being that can create life… or destroy it.
The howls grow closer as the pack seeks out their new Alpha... and answers. I bundle her in my arms bridal style and carry her to the Tahoe, carefully putting her in the passenger seat. I don’t know where I should take her next, but it has to be away from here where the Alpha’s scent still lingers.
I’m paralyzed with indecision on where to go to next when I hear the faint sound of my phone vibrating. Searching behind the car, I find my discarded jeans buried under several branches of thick pine. In the front pocket is my phone with a severe crack across the screen, partially obscuring the caller ID.
After swiping to answer, I hold my phone between my ear and shoulder, while shaking some of the debris from my jeans.
“Connor?” Kaleb speaks from the other side when he notices the ringing sound has stopped.
I grunt in affirmation, wincing as I climb back into my jeans that have pine needles, dirt, and sap stuck everywhere. Callie may be too out of it now to notice I’m naked, but when she comes to, I don’t think she’d appreciate it if she found me in the buff. And until I can get cleaned up, no way am I putting on the clean sweats I have in my clothes bag.
“The demons are dead,” Kaleb continues, used to my non-answer answers. “Everyone is okay. It’s safe to bring Callie home.”
“On my way,” I reply, not bothering to ask for details, as more howls blanket the night.
∞∞∞
When I roll to a stop behind Donovan’s truck, Callie climbs out without a word. Through the entire drive, she’s been here and not. Awake but not all there. I’m hoping that either her aunt or one of the guys will know what to do.
I follow her across the yard that is covered in blood and ash, finding Donovan and Nolan sitting on the edge of the porch, covered in crusted blood. As they lean into each other, they look as frighteningly lost as Callie does, neither one recognizing we’re even here. What the hell happened?
Kaleb and Felix emerge from around the back of the house and thankfully look coherent. Kaleb looks battle worn, carrying a decently sized shovel and covered in his fair share of blood, dirt, and ash, while Felix looks troubled. Before they can say anything, Callie is through the front door, leaving it wide open, and I can hear the soft shushing of her bare feet climbing the stairs.
“What happened?” Kaleb asks, his gaze first following Callie into the house then over my dirt and blood covered body.
“The Alpha,” I answer, stopping at the base of the porch steps. “He’s dead.”
This is enough to pull Donovan and Nolan out of their haze, and all four of the guys stare at me with wide eyes.
Felix’s gaze bounces from me to the open door and back, what he wants to know stuck on his lips.
“You kill him?” Donovan asks bluntly, lip
s pressed tight and aqua eyes burning.
I fractionally shake my head no, but out loud, I answer, “I killed him. I’m the new Alpha.”
“Can’t say I’m sorry he’s dead, but I know you never wanted this. I’m sorry for that,” Nolan murmurs before he slumps heavily against Donovan. D winces as he wraps one arm around his shoulders.
“What happened with Callie?” Felix demands, marching up to me, his hazel eyes digging into mine. “You were supposed to help her. Protect her.”
“Felix,” Kaleb barks, startling all of us with how harshly the name shoots past his lips. “He did what he could, and she’s alive.”
“Then why did she walk through here looking half dead?” Felix accuses, his gaze asking the real question: If you did what you could, then why did she kill the Alpha?
I want to be angry or indignant, but he’s right. I’m supposed to be the guardian, yet she saved us both.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, simmer down, ghost boy,” Donovan grunts, glaring at both of us, “and no fucking guilt trip moping wolf, either. Stop treating Callie like she’s goddamn glass that’ll fucking shatter the moment one of us isn’t around to protect her. She’s seen some shit. She’s dealing with some shit. Let her take a fucking breath before we’re climbing up each other’s asses, alright?”
“Too easy,” Nolan mutters with a suppressed smile.
Felix being Felix can’t help but snort, and he calms down. Staring at his feet, he apologizes, “I’m sorry I got all over you. I just can’t… you know, and it’s frustrating when she’s upset.”
I shrug the universal sign of ‘don’t worry about it.’
Kaleb walks the few feet into the light cast through the windows of the house, and whispers quietly to Felix, “Why don’t you go check on Callie and see if she’d like you to sit with her? As important as it is to let her… take a breath… I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to be alone.”
“A fucking breath,” Donovan corrects with an asshole smirk.
Felix nods, seemingly relieved to be told what to do, and poofs away. I want to follow him, but the howls once again grow closer.
All of us stare in the direction of the wolves, the echoing sounds a heartbreaking cacophony of cries. No matter how they felt about him, they lost their Alpha. Their leader. And they’ll be nothing but scattered broken pieces until they join with their new Alpha.
“You need to go to them,” Kaleb insists, dropping a hand on my uninjured shoulder. “They’ll come here if you don’t.”
“Where’s Mildred?” I ask, sniffing for her scent.
“Inside gathering herbs to help with D’s broken wing,” he answers with a sigh. “I know you don’t like leaving her side, but we can take care of Callie. Only you can take care of the pack. The last place we need them to show up is at the door of two powerful, but currently vulnerable, witches.”
Donovan snorts at the description.
“Emotionally vulnerable,” Kaleb grinds out, closing his eyes and ‘praying for patience.’
In the face of all the crazy shit that’s happened tonight, there’s something soothing that comes from their bickering and jabs at each other. Even as things change, there are some things that stay the same.
“We got her,” Nolan adds with a tired smile. “Go.”
As much as I hate it, I know they’re right. I vowed to protect her always, and right now that means taking control of the pack. Give them my answers before they go searching for their own. Claim my place as Alpha.
I strip out of what’s left of my mangled jeans and give myself over to my wolf. When I hear the howls of the pack, I howl back and run toward my new destiny.
Chapter 20
Kaleb
“I have everything ready,” Mildred announces, poking her head out from the open front door. Her hair is damp, pulled back into a tight bun, and there’s a bandage on her temple with the blooming colors of fresh bruises around it. She eyeballs the three of us covered in dirt and blood. “Go through the garage door, please. Perhaps, use the spare bathroom to get cleaned up… or maybe the garden hose.”
Nolan looks down at himself, his bare chest smeared with red tinged mud and his leather pants looking more brown than black, and snorts. “I could stand under the shower for a month, and I’m pretty sure I’d still find dirt in new places.”
Groaning as he stands up, Donovan comments to Mildred, “I thought you told us you couldn’t heal people.”
She rolls her eyes and huffs, “No, I can’t magically heal your broken wing. I can however splint it, and I have some salves that will help with the healing process. Must you all be so literal?”
Nolan winces when he hops down from the porch, and while rolling his shoulder, teases, “D does… unless it’s an innuendo. He tends to figure those out okay.”
“Fuck you,” Donovan grunts, his lips pressed tight in pain.
“Alright, grumpy pants. Let’s have Witch Doctor Mildred fix you up,” Nolan cajoles with a hand on D’s lower back, nudging him toward the garage.
“I’m not a witch doctor,” Mildred huffs, indignant, and then goes back into the house, closing the door behind her.
“And I’m not grumpy. I’m in pain, you asshole,” Donovan grumbles allowing himself to be led. “And definitely not in my pants.”
“Whatever you say,” Nolan chuckles.
I’m about to follow them when Felix pops up in front of me with panic filled eyes.
“Callie needs you,” he stage whispers, fidgeting as if he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “I think it might be bad.”
Adrenaline shoots through me as my mind plays through scenarios that would constitute bad enough to need my help specifically. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Um… she uh… well she’s in the shower, which by the way, is kind of awkward trying to keep her company,” he answers, talking a mile a minute, and rubbing at the back of his neck. “But she’s been in there a while, and she’s not responding when I talk to her. She just keeps muttering something under her breath. I flat out asked her if she was okay and nothing.”
Attempting to process what he said and get my heart back to a normal rhythm, I ask slowly, “You’re worried she may have gone catatonic like last time?”
He swallows heavily. “Yeah. I mean she’s awake, so I can’t do anything to help.”
“Wouldn’t Mildred be better suited since...?” I trail off with a raised brow at the obvious issue of me helping Callie while she’s naked in the shower.
Felix shakes his head vigorously side to side. “No. It can’t be Mildred. She doesn’t know… what we know. About her past. Callie hasn’t gotten around to telling her yet, and… well, I just think that with what we know and all that human behavior and psychology books you study, you’d be the best person to help her.”
If Felix were anyone else, I’d tell him to take a breath because he looks ready to come undone, but deep breaths when dead aren’t very helpful.
I, however, take one while rolling my shoulders, because it feels like a metal band has settled around my chest. In some ways, this is what I’ve been training to do, but not now… not like this.
“I’m not a doctor,” I argue, but more for the sake that it needs to be said. I’ll still do it.
“But you’re who she needs,” Felix insists quietly, his tone subdued.
He’s staring down at his feet, a morose expression pulling at his brow, and I can’t help but think of what Callie said. How difficult it must be for him to have to get me because he can’t do this himself. Not even something as small as a comforting touch on her shoulder.
I run a hand over my head, and there’s an uncomfortable crunchiness that I don’t want to think about.
“Okay, I’ll go,” I agree, then request, “Could you keep an eye on Donovan and Nolan for me? They may seem to be fine, but this night… it hasn’t been easy on any of us.”
“No, it hasn’t,” Felix agrees, and the band around my chest gets tighter. The m
urderers of his family have been brought to justice, but the reasons behind their deaths… it will haunt us all.
Felix disappears and I climb up the porch steps, leaving my boots near the door to keep from tracking any more of the filth of this night into the house. One moment it feels like it was months ago that I was taping ‘Ninja’ to Connor’s chest. The next moment everything feels like a blur and I can’t separate one event from the next, as if it all happened in the same second.
After I climb up the stairs, I knock on the bathroom door, and as expected I get no answer. Breathing out my nerves, I announce before entering, “Callie, I’m coming in.”
Despite the fan running, the bathroom is full of steam so thick that I can almost taste it as I breathe. Her bloody clothes and costume are scattered on the floor, like she frenziedly ripped them off-- buttons from the flannel shirt loose on the ground.
Approaching the shower doors, Callie’s soft mutters are barely audible over the loud shower spray. I call her name again, but she doesn’t answer.
“I need to know if you’re okay,” I say from the other side of the sliding glass doors. “If you don’t give me something, I’m going to have to check myself.”
Still nothing.
Please forgive me.
My heart rattles in my ears as I slowly slide the door open a few inches, and it breaks when I see her. She’s curled in a tight ball in the center of the tub, her nails digging into her arms to the point they’ve broken skin, head bowed with the water pounding on top of her, and her skin is a flaming red color. Down her back there are a few deep scrapes that for some reason haven’t healed.
Seeing her this way, propriety is immediately forgotten and without thought, I strip down to my boxer briefs, grab the closest towel, and climb in. Hissing when boiling hot water hits my skin, I turn the temperature down and wrap Callie in the towel, doing my best to cover as much of her as possible. I sit down behind her and lift her onto my lap. The water turns the color of mud as it sprays clean the grime from my body.