Frostbitten

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Frostbitten Page 13

by Kelley Armstrong


  "Did you think that was funny, you crazy bitch?" he shouted.

  Crazy? I wasn't the one using my 4x4 as a weapon. I marched toward his side of the truck. He jerked back, this clearly not being the "fleeing in mortal terror" reaction he'd hoped for.

  He rolled up the window and hit the gas. The tires spun, spitting mud. The truck rocked, but didn't budge.

  I took a running leap. The truck shook as I landed in the bed. The man kept pumping the gas pedal, now jerking the wheel side to side, hoping to dislodge me, but the truck only spun in place.

  I walked to the front corner nearest the passenger door. Then I leaned down, grabbed the door handle and wrenched, twisting it all the way around, the insides grinding and snapping. He lunged over to hold the door closed, but I'd already let go.

  He slammed the truck into reverse. I stumbled, hands slapping the cab. I kept my balance, though, and when the tires started spinning again, I moved to the driver's side. He slapped down the lock. Again I leaned down. Again I wrenched the handle around, then retreated into the bed.

  He tried to open the door.

  "Hey..." he said, jangling it. Then "Fuck!"

  I watched through the back window as he reached across and tried the passenger door, yanking and jiggling the handle until he realized I'd jammed them shut.

  "What the fuck?" He twisted to glower at me.

  I smiled, finger-waved and was turning to go when something slammed into my back, sending me flying against the cab. As I scrambled up from the truck bed, my nostrils filled with the smell of my attacker--one of the mutts from the hotel.

  He stood in the middle of the truck bed. With sandy brown hair to his collar and dark blue eyes, he was a huge rectangle of a man and had the thick neck of one who hasn't been content to spend a mere hour at the gym each day. The slight yellow cast of his skin and the nasty glitter in his eyes suggested he hadn't been content with the extra boost of werewolf strength either. A steroid-pumped monster of a mutt. Travis Tesler, who'd cut off Reese's fingers--I didn't blame Reese for running. First chance I got, I was doing the same.

  "Did I spoil your fun?" he asked, lips curving in what I supposed passed for a smile. "I thought Pack wolves didn't hunt humans."

  I kept my expression wary, eyes not quite meeting his, shoulders lowered, feigning every sign of submissiveness.

  "You got him pretty good." He snickered as he watched the man still vainly pumping on the door handles. "Bet you think you're clever."

  I cast an anxious glance at the open land beside me.

  "Your man's long gone," Tesler said. "It's just you and me."

  He stepped closer. I feigned a flinch and drew back.

  He took a deep breath. "Damn, you smell even better in person."

  Behind us, the man banged on the rear window. We both ignored him. I inched along the cab toward the edge. Tesler stepped toward me again. I scuttled back.

  "Not nearly as tough against your own kind, are you?" he said.

  "I-I don't want any trouble."

  "Well, see, that's not going to work, because I do."

  I shook my head, my gaze fixed on the lower half of his face, so he couldn't see my eyes. "Please. Whatever you want, I'll do it. Just don't--"

  He lunged and rammed me back against the cab. Pinning me there, he lowered his nose to my neck and inhaled.

  "Fuck, that is something else."

  "Pl-please don't--" I stammered, then I slammed my fist into his gut.

  He stumbled back, doubled over. An uppercut to the jaw sent him sailing backward. A roundhouse kick toppled him over the side, and he hit the ground flat on his back, his gasp and curse swallowed by the gusting wind.

  I jumped onto the edge of the bed, balancing on the back corner, waiting for him to get up so I could kick him back down, then make a run for it. Only he just lay there, looking up at me. Then he smiled.

  "Now that's more like it. Damn, that's more like it."

  He licked blood from his lips. His smile widened and blood gushed, streaming down his cheek. His smile changed, all amusement vanishing, replaced by something ugly that hit me in the pit of the stomach, prodding awake everything that horrible letter had unburied. The terrified little girl inside screamed for me to run, just run. Only I couldn't. I didn't run anymore, not from men like this.

  He got up, slow, as if testing his muscles. I tensed and watched his thighs, waiting as they bunched and then--

  He leapt up and grabbed for my ankles, but I was already in flight. I swung behind him and got in two lightning-fast hits before he turned and came at me, still moving slow as I danced back.

  "You like this?" He licked the blood again. "Get the old adrenaline pumping. Land a few shots. Make a guy bleed." He smiled that ugly smile. "I bet you've made a lot of guys bleed for you."

  He swung. I ducked, but he followed with a pile driver to the side of my jaw, holding none of that steroid-pumped superhuman strength back. The earth rushed up to meet me. I lay on the frozen ground, blinking hard, struggling to remain focused, knowing if I didn't...

  Stay conscious. Stay conscious.

  Tesler loomed over me. "If you hit me, honey, I'm going to hit back. I hit a lot harder, don't I?"

  Stay conscious. Stay--

  "Down for the count? I was hoping for a few more rounds." He grinned. "But I guess this will do."

  As he reached for his belt buckle, any urge to drift off evaporated. Then the man in the truck hit the horn.

  "Ah, fuck."

  Tesler glanced over. The man blasted the horn again. I closed my eyes to slits. When Tesler looked back at me again, he frowned and prodded my leg, checking whether I'd passed out. The man banged on the window, his shouts muffled by the wind. The mutt cursed, gaze swinging between me and the truck. Then his belt whirred as he pulled it through the buckle. I tensed, ready to leap up, hit him with everything I had. Fight, bite, scream, kick...

  The horn blared.

  "Guess you'll keep a moment," he muttered. "Maybe you'll even wake up." A short laugh. "I'd like it a lot better if you woke up."

  Belt undone, he strode to the driver's window and rapped. It squeaked as the man lowered it a few inches.

  "I'm not going to let you do that." The man waved a cell phone. "I'm calling 911."

  If he really intended to, he would have. He didn't want to get involved, but his conscience said he couldn't stand by and watch a woman get raped, so he had to at least make the threat and hope that was enough.

  "Did you see what that bitch did to me?" Tesler pointed to his bloodied face. "And what she did to your truck? That's going to cost you. And for what? Because you were having a bit of fun with her?"

  "Yes, but--"

  "Tell you what..."

  He leaned in, lowering his voice. I stayed where I was. He might have his back to me, but he was still paying attention, testing me, seeing whether I'd leap up and run when I had the chance. While everything in me screamed for me to do just that, I held myself still and waited.

  "I could use some help," Tesler said. "She's a real firecracker. If she wakes up, I'm in trouble. So how about you help me." He chuckled. "There's enough to go around, if you don't mind seconds."

  I waited for the man's cry of outrage. He only hesitated, then looked over at me.

  "She'll be unconscious?" he said.

  Tesler laughed. "Not if I have my way, but sure, I'll knock her out again if that's what you like."

  I felt the man's gaze travel over me. My skin heated, red-hot fury burning through the old terror.

  You coward. You goddamn, fucking, low-life coward.

  I wanted to fly at both of them. Show them what they were dealing with. Show them I wasn't weak, wasn't a victim. Images flickered across my half-closed lids. That letter. That damned letter. The face of the man who sent it. The faces of other foster families, the men and boys I was supposed to call father and brother. Cowards every one. Preying on the helpless. Only I wasn't helpless anymore. I was--

  I shoved the rage b
ack, gritted my teeth and stayed where I was. Just another minute. Another few seconds...

  "Let's get you out of there," Tesler said.

  I listened as he yanked on the door and waited for the moment when he got it open, when the flurry of activity would distract--

  "Shit. That bitch really did do a number on your doors. Put down the window and let me get it from the inside."

  "I already tried."

  "Just put down the fucking window before she comes to and runs away."

  The window whirred. I tensed, ready to spring...

  Tesler grabbed the man's shirtfront.

  "Wha--?"

  Tesler slammed his palm into the man's face, his nose flattening with a sickening crunch, head snapping back, neck breaking. The man went limp. Tesler checked his pulse.

  "Did you really think I was going to share with a human?" he said as he threw him to the floor of the cab. "Now that's taken care of, time for the fun part." He turned. "What the--? Where--?"

  A growl of rage sounded behind me as I raced across the open field.

  LOCOMOTION

  TESLER RECOVERED FAST and gave chase, his footfalls so heavy I swore I felt the ground shake. I searched the cluster of buildings ahead, hoping for some sign of Clay, but the landscape was empty and silent.

  I whistled.

  Silence.

  I whistled again, and then it came, the faintest answer off to my right. I turned that way and ran so fast all I could hear was the pounding of my feet and heart. I hated myself for running, but I knew I faced more than bruised ribs and injured pride if I lost this fight.

  I caught another whistle, louder and closer now, from behind the building to my right. Clay was coming for me. I glanced over my shoulder. Tesler was nowhere to be seen.

  Shit. I sheared off in the direction of Clay's whistle and gave a double one to warn him to be on the lookout.

  The building was a small factory of some sort, with machinery whirring inside. There was only one car in the lot. If there were any windows, I couldn't see them.

  I slowed to listen for Clay and, yes, to try to sense him, reassure myself that he was close. When I didn't pick up that faint feeling I shook off the unease--relying on a sixth sense was Jeremy's realm; the rest of us had to make do with scent and sight and sound. Only I couldn't smell him either.

  I jogged to the rear of the building and looked both ways. The lot remained empty and still.

  I whistled. The answer came in seconds. A whistle. Not Clay's whistle. Then, on the end of it, his whistle farther away, in the direction I'd first heard him.

  I swung my back to the wall and listened, but heard only the muffled machines inside. Then I caught the faint scuff of a shoe... overhead. I glanced up as a shadow edged over the roof.

  Tesler jumped. I tried to twist out of the way, but he caught my shoulder and I spun, feet scrabbling against the gravel. His fingers whispered across my new ski jacket as I lunged out of reach.

  I started to run, but kept slipping on gravel, losing my speed advantage fast. There was a small building ahead, some kind of storage for the factory. I ran for that.

  Just keep ahead. One step ahead. That was all I needed to do until Clay arrived. He couldn't be far.

  I made it to the building and raced around the front corner, then along the wall. Tesler's footfalls were at least a half-dozen paces back. Too far to lunge and grab me. Too close to sneak around the other way. Now I just had to keep him going around the building in circles until Clay showed up.

  I zipped around the rear corner... and found a fence blocking my path. I skidded and swerved, my boots sliding. He dove and caught the back of my jacket. I wrenched, but he had a firm grip. I yanked down my zipper, trying to get out of the coat. His foot caught mine and down I went.

  I fought--kicking, clawing, writhing--but within seconds he had me pinned. He was a man who knew exactly how to pin a smaller opponent so she couldn't get away, couldn't fight back, couldn't do anything but scream. And I would scream. I didn't care how mortified I'd be later, because all that mattered was getting away before he did what he wanted to do.

  I barely got the first note of my scream out before he jammed his forearm down on my throat, cutting me off, a move so deft it was almost instinct. I knew now who'd been responsible for those missing girls around Roman's territory, and who was responsible for the ones here. I knew what Tesler had done many times before and what he was about to do to me.

  Even as I struggled, that voice inside told me to stop. You can't fight. Just lie still and go someplace else. Find the old place, the one where he can't touch you. Just go there and wait until it's over.

  His hand pushed under my shirt, under my bra, fingers digging in, nails scraping. I snarled and twisted and tried to hit, to claw, but he had my shoulders pinned so I couldn't do more than lift my hands a few inches off the ground. I rocked and heaved so hard I thought I was going to dislocate my shoulder, but I didn't care. I bucked and squirmed until he had to shift his weight to keep me still, one arm at my throat, the other hand squeezing my breast. And when he shifted, I got the momentum I needed to wrench my arm free.

  I grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked. His hand flew from under my shirt, catching my wrist and wrenching until it was at the breaking point. I kept pulling, but came away with a handful of hair, my grip lost.

  He pinned me again. When his hand went back under my shirt, he twisted my breast hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. I rocked and bucked and flailed, but I couldn't get free. I just couldn't, no matter how many fights I'd won, no matter how many years I'd trained, no matter how strong I was and how many times I'd told myself that no one, no one would ever touch me like this again. It was happening and there was nothing I could do.

  The more I struggled, the harder his forearm jammed down on my neck, until finally I couldn't breathe. I kept fighting. I heard myself gasping. I saw the world tilting and darkening. But all I could feel was his hand at my waist, ripping at my jeans as he clawed and grabbed and grunted.

  Then he was flying off me, Clay's face behind him, twisted with rage. Clay spun, holding Tesler by the back of his jacket, his skull on crash course with the wall, and I knew that's where it was headed. Clay was going to kill him. And I didn't care.

  No, I did care. I was glad of it. I would do it myself if I had the chance. I could say I was doing it for the girls he'd raped and killed, to make sure there wasn't another, and while that was part of it, I was really doing it for me--so he would never get the chance to come back and rape me.

  It only took a split second for Clay to whip Tesler around, for me to think I was glad of it, for Tesler's body to spasm in panic as he realized he was about to die. But in that moment, a second mutt flew around the corner.

  I leapt to my feet to cut him off, but he was already in flight. He smacked into Clay's shoulder and threw him off balance. Clay didn't drop his prey, but that moment of reprieve was enough for Tesler. His feet found the ground and his fist headed for Clay's jaw. Clay ducked the blow, but in doing so, released him.

  The second mutt was a smaller, wiry blond. I recognized his smell. He'd been in our hotel room, Dennis's cabin and the museum. Tesler's buddy, the one who'd introduced himself to Reese as "Dan." He grabbed Clay by the back of the coat, but I yanked him off his feet, breaking his grip on Clay.

  And so we paired off. Dan gladly turned on me, leaving his bruiser of a friend to Clay. His first few strikes were halfhearted--if he dispatched me quickly, he'd have to leap into the fray with Clay.

  When I dodged his blows and landed two of my own, Dan started fighting in earnest, still slow at first, like a pro with a full card ahead of him, trying to figure out the least amount of energy he can expend. But he soon figured out that a lower weight class doesn't necessarily mean an inferior fighter.

  After a few hits Dan ducked a blow, danced to the side... and kept going, taking off across the parking lot. I chased him past two buildings, and then circled back to Clay.

 
Clay was having only moderately more trouble with his matchup. Tesler might be an expert at overpowering women, yet his fight skills were little better than the average Saturday night brawler's. If he landed a blow, it sent Clay reeling, but Clay was faster and more agile and easily dodged most of them, and soon figured out the guy's routine.

  When a solid right hook sent Tesler spinning, Clay eased back and looked over at me.

  "You want to take over, darling? Finish him?"

  "Fuck off," Tesler snarled, spitting blood.

  He swung. Clay ducked.

  I stepped forward. "I've got it."

  "Good. Just watch your clothes. He's a bleeder."

  Tesler charged with a roar. Clay deftly veered out of his path... and I veered into it, catching Tesler's arm, wrenching and flipping him over my shoulder. He landed on his back, winded and blinking.

  Again, I watched his leg muscles and sure enough, they bunched, and as soon as I was within reach, he sprang. He tried to grab my leg and yank me to the ground, but I wasn't going down. Even if it meant taking a blow I could have dodged, I wasn't going to give him any chance to get me on the ground again.

  It didn't matter that Clay was there to protect me. I needed to know that I could best him.

  At first, as long as I stayed on my feet, it was an even match. But I had rage on my side, and the balance started to shift. I landed a few good blows--cracking ribs and knocking out a tooth. Not that it mattered. This was only an exercise--me needing to prove something to myself--because when it was over, he wasn't walking away.

  I took a glancing blow off the chin and reeled back, concentrating on keeping my balance. As I shook it off, Clay spun. Dan had returned, sneaking up behind us. Then a shadow passed overhead. I looked up to see another mutt on the roof.

  "Clay!"

  It was a split-second distraction that my opponent took full advantage of, diving at me and grabbing me around the waist as he tried to take me down. I locked my knees. Pain shot through my legs as they tried to bend in a way they weren't supposed to. I twisted and stumbled, but kept my balance.

  The mutt on the roof jumped. He knocked Clay's shoulder as Clay tried to dance out of the way, then both mutts went at him. The new one was smaller than Tesler--only a little bigger than Clay--but the family resemblance was clear. This was the relative I'd faintly smelled at Dennis's cabin, the younger brother. A kick and a right hook from Clay sent him sprawling, leaving Clay with the smaller blond mutt.

 

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