Black Heart: Wild On (23 page)

            "I know, but it won't happen," Dane said. He sounded so confident, but I also knew he was wildly attracted to her. I'm not sure he realized just how much he wanted her. "Don't worry about Mercedes or me." He jingled his keys at me. "Forget the Mustang. We can take my jeep."

            "No, I want my car. Unless you want to ride up there on the back of my Ninja," I said. He looked at me like I was crazy. "Get in. I'm in a hurry and it's a long drive."

            I glanced at the front of my beloved Mustang. It was battered and dented. Damn zombies. I couldn't blame Sabrina. She had no choice. Besides, I could get it fixed easily enough.

            "Can I drive? I've never driven a Shelby," Dane said.

            "No. If I wanted to ride, we'd take your jeep," I said. I waggled my eyebrows at him. "Besides, you drive too slow."

            "Oh Lord, save me," Dane said. I hit my clicker and the doors unlocked with a low thunk. "It's still early. We have plenty of time, so you don't have to speed."

            Slipping in behind the wheel, I buckled up and started the engine. A thrill raced through me as the deep-throated engine roared to life. I raced the engine a few seconds, then let it drop back down into idle. I loved how it idled. The idle was a deep thumping heartbeat. So heady.

            "I don't need to speed. I speed because I need," I said, stepping on the clutch and shifting into reverse.

            "You need?"

            "Yes," I said, throwing it into first and hitting the gas. We were both pressed back into our seats. "I need speed."

            I squealed the tires, heading for the stop sign. I determined there were no cars close enough to be concerned with in a second flat, and threw it into second without stopping. The engine roared its excitement.

            "Even as a vampire you're an adrenalin junkie," he said, shaking his head woefully.

            I did what I could to prove him right. Though, I did manage to keep it under seventy until we were past Plano on Central, heading north. The big Wild On where all the area packs gathered, along with the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex area vampires and witches, was being held up near the Red River, outside of Sherman.

            The Shelby Mustang was doing one twenty-five when I blew through McKinney, and it wasn't even breathing hard. For Dane's sake, I didn't go over one-thirty. He became a white-knuckle passenger once I passed eighty. I even managed not to laugh at him. I laughed, but not at him.

            "You should join NASCAR," he said.

            "Do they have night races?"

            "Do you have to weave through traffic like that?"

            "Duh. They're driving slow," I said. "Why don't people drive in the right lane like their supposed to?"

            "The people in the right lane are all speeding," Dane said. "They are doing eighty, for Christ's sake."

            "Like I said, slow," I said. I laughed, shot the hole between a red pickup in the left lane and a semi-tracker rig in the right, and then whipped around and between a blue Cadillac, a black pickup and another black Mustang. Then the road was clear for another mile before the next set of "moving obstacles." "If these other jokers would stay right I'd already be in Sherman."

            The further north we went the lighter the traffic. The road never completely opened up, but it got better. After passing Van Alstyne I didn't have to slow down any more.

            "Remind me to thank them for having the Wild On way out in the country like this," I said.

            "Yeah, then I can punch them in the mouth," he said.

            "Hello!" I cried, slamming on the brakes. I locked them up. So much for anti-lock brakes, heh? "Almost missed our exit."

            "Almost lost control of my bladder," Dane growled.

            "Aren't you too young to be a curmudgeon?" I said.

            "Shut up."

            "You're stupid," I said.

            "I know," he said. "We both are. Council wants you, and Mercedes wants me. It'd be easier to just shoot ourselves."

            "Easier. Not as much fun, though," I said.

            "I think you like being a vampire."

            "Sometimes," I said. I laid an intense look on him for a long second. "Dane. I picked up a car. I threw a motorcycle
over
a two story building. I can
fly
."

            "And your soul is damned for all eternity," he said.

            "Well, there's that," I said, and laughed. "Sorry. I can't help it sometimes. My soul is forfeit, but that wasn't my fault. Yuri stole my chance for salvation despite my best efforts to stop him. I can't change that, but I can enjoy what I've been given."

            Something caught my eyes along the road. Actually, it was off the road and behind the fence. A man. He just stood there. No movement, and no aura.

            "Zombies," I said.

            I saw two more up ahead. They were also just inside the fence line.

            "Where?" he said. He squinted into the surrounding darkness, but he didn't have my night vision. His stress level began to rise. "Are you sure they are zombies?"

            "They don't have auras or heartbeats," I said. Behind them were thick woods. The Red River Pack's hunting grounds. "And they're up and running around. Sounds like zombies to me."

            "Zombies are the creepiest creatures known," Dane said.

            "Can zombies have sex?" I said.

            "Ouch that's just disgusting," Dane said. "Why would you think about that?"

            "Because there's a whole bunch of them up ahead," I said. The entrance to the Wild On was at the bottom of the hill, and there was a line of cars waiting to get in. The gate was manned by a dozen vampires and mortals. Most of the mortals were werewolves. There were another twenty zombies standing off from the others. "They are part of the welcoming committee."

            We took our place in line. Every car was stopped and the occupants questioned. It went fast. I rolled down my window, getting a dirty look from Dane, and listened. Werewolves were mostly known by the gate guards. Anyone they didn't know required a pack member to come up and ID them. Vampires and witches were entirely dependent on invitations. Neither Dane nor I had a written invitation.

            "Hmm, there may be a bit of trouble," I said as the last car in front of us was allowed to pass.

            "Trouble?"

            "Our right to join in the fun might be questioned," I said.

            "And why would that be, Miss?" the wolf that stepped up to my window said.

            I forgot they could hear almost as well as a vampire. So I smiled up at him. It was one of my better, more sincere smiles. He didn't appear to be terribly impressed.

            "We don't have written invites," I said. I realized he was wearing the same red Metallica t-shirt I was wearing. When I glanced down at my own, he noticed and snorted in amusement. "Funny. We're here as guest of the Trudeau Pack, and Henri Trudeau."

            "And you are?" he said, motioning to a woman with a clipboard.

            "Sable Hart and Dane Douglas," I said.

            "Black Heart?" the woman said.

            "Yes," I said. "Problem with that?"

            "You killed some wolves back in November," she said, eyes narrowing. "You killed a packer leader, Fritz Rotmensen."

            "He was killing vampires, and tried to kill me more than once," I said. "Ask Henri Trudeau if he has a problem with me killing Fritz. Ask the Trudeau Pack."

            "Let them in," the male wolf said, frowning at the clipboard.

            "What?" the she wolf cried.

            "They're on the list. Trudeau Pack guests," he said.

            I was? I was sure they'd have to call Henri or Mercedes over to give us a pass. To already be on the guest list was surprising. Not sure how I felt about it, either.

            "Imagine that. I was telling the truth," I said. I winked at them, pressed the clutch, and moved it into first. "Thank you. Have a nice run."

            The Red River Pack's parking lot was much better than the Trudeau's. It was all white gravel and huge. The gravel was so loose and clean I suspected they resurfaced just for the Wild On, if it wasn't a new parking area altogether. Maybe werewolf packs tried to impress each other.

            I found a parking place and backed in. My car was straight in front of the entrance, and pointed at it for a quick escape. Just in case. Yeah, I was a girl scout when I was little. Want to see my salute?

            While we were looking around, seeing where everyone was headed, a good thirty or more motorcycles roared into the parking lot. They were Asians, and all women. They were all riding Suzuki racing bikes.

            "Wow, a pack of Asian bikers," Dane said, shaking his head. "Look at them. I've never seen anyone with more attitude."

            "Well, I'm not going to mess with them," I said, and laughed.

            Two pickup trucks filled with men and women pulled in after them. None of them were wearing jackets, and one was waving a flag. The flag was crimson, with a black crescent moon.

            "Who are they?" I asked a woman passing by.

            She glanced at them. "A bunch of morons. Black Moon Pack, from around Lake Lavon."

            Lake Lavon was east of Plano. Not that far from Plano, in fact. I used to go out there a lot in High School. With Timmy as often as not.

            "Thanks," I said, and took Dane by the hand as I started to follow the others heading for a trail into the dark woods.

            "What's so special about the werewolves in the trucks?" Dane said.

            "Nothing," I said. "I just recalled the two girl vamps that helped take Timmy had black moon tattoo tramp stamps. But there were thorny roses surrounding the moon, and the Black Moon flag didn't have any roses."

            "Ah. Will other packs have flags?" he said.

            "Don't know. Why?"

            "Maybe another pack has a black moon inside thorny roses," he said.

            "Timmy was taken by vampires."

            "Are you sure?"

            "Charlotte saw their fangs."

            "Werewolves have fangs."

            That stopped me in my tracks. Didn't shock me, but stopped me. Could I have been looking for Timmy in all the wrong dark corners?

            "Werewolves are more likely to try and recruit someone," I said. "And more likely to
bite
someone to force the change."

            I started to go back, but realized the trail we were on wasn't the only one. I could feel people traveling up many trails to either side of us. The wolves in the pickups were probably already on the trail nearest to their parking places. So I led Dane up the trail to the great bonfire.

            The Red River Pack had quite a setup. It wasn't new, but still in excellent shape. From the center out, they had a huge stone lined fire pit. Surrounding the firepit was a band of sand about ten feet wide. Around the sand was a band of thick green grass about twenty feet wide. It was rye grass, so was still dark green in the dead of winter. My father put rye down at the church every year. Lining the outer edge of the green belt, was stacked firewood. They used the firewood for the bonfire to build a low wall varying between three and four feet high. They'd left numerous passages through the firewood. Finally, scattered about the open ground outside the rings were picnic tables, grills and even some gazebos.

            Any church retreat would've been pleased as punch to have that setup. The whole area was packed with people and wolves. Yeah, some of the wolves couldn't wait to morph and had already gone four-legged.

            "Lot fancier than the Trudeau Wild On," Dane said. "They have blankets."

            On about half the picnic tables were stacks of folded blankets. They were using them to spread out on the grass and lay upon. I spotted Boney right off, in nothing but a pair of silk boxers, standing over Antoinette. With Antoinette on her blanket were Angelique, Lolita, and Lorelei, all in bra and panties. Behind the blanket stood four zombies watching over them.

            "Are those zombies?" Dane asked.

            "Yep."

            Vanessa Mancera was dancing in the circle, wearing black leather pants, blood red cowboy boots, and a red silk shirt tied off under her boobs. She was surrounded by her vamps and a few wolves. Two other Vampire Council members — Henry Moonwalker and Otis Glen — were sitting together and laughing merrily. Their vamp families sat to either side of them, most paired off with wolves or mortals.

            I noticed the Chinese and Vietnamese vampires were sitting on opposite sides of the bonfire, and glaring at each other. It was starting to look like a council meeting.

            "There're Henri and Mercedes," Dane said.

            Henri was speaking with council members Rod Huff and Jeff Howell. It was a rather animated conversation, but there were enough smiles and laughs to see it wasn't anything too serious. They were also all in jeans and shirts, clothes easy to shed when the Run started.

            I discovered there were a lot of common tattoos on display. Pack members liked getting the same tattoos. I hadn't realized it until then, seeing different packs together. Some packs had a particular look about them, too. One pack was nothing but Hispanic women. Another pack was nothing but redheads.

            "There," Dane said, pointing at a blonde's rear end. "Black moon inside thorny roses."

            She was sitting on the stacked firewood wall, facing the fire and licking her fingers after eating a sausage. Even backlit by the bonfire, I could make out her aura. Werewolf. No doubt about it.

            "Yes!" I said, making a beeline for the pretty blonde. She was wearing denim low riders and a denim halter top. She was barefooted. "Excuse me, Miss!"