Cold Blood (25 page)

Chapter Twenty Three

The sound of my phone ringing woke me up. I groaned and grabbed for it, yanking it free of where it was wedged between my pocket and the hard, wet ground. I rolled to a sitting position, pulling leaves and debris from my hair and answered it, still half-asleep.

“
Hello?” My voice was a croak. I desperately needed water…and a toothbrush. Yuck.

“
Tara, darling.” Miles sounded wide awake and ecstatic.

I came awake at the reminder of why I was here, alone in the woods, sleeping on the ground.

“
You came,” he said.

“
Yes, I came,” I answered, scanning the trees warily. “How did you know?”

“
I have my sources. I’ve sent someone to bring you to me. He should be there shortly. Stay put and we’ll see each other soon.”

The line went dead before I could argue.

Great, so I was supposed to sit in the woods like a painted target until someone–or something–came for me? I pulled a bottle of water out of my backpack, slugged half of it down, and stood up to brush myself off. My jeans were damp and stale but I didn’t have anything else, thanks to Victoria. I looked around, trying to find someplace to wait it out where I would see what was coming. There wasn’t much to choose from.

On one side were widely spaced trees that got thicker the further you went. On my other side was a shallow river that separated the forest from a trail that led into town. The faint trickle of water could be heard as it was pulled over rocks in the riverbed. Part of me wanted to get in and wash off, but I didn’t dare with company on the way.

I went back to scanning my surroundings, and in the end, I climbed into the low branch of the tree I’d slept under. I hung my backpack on a curved branch next to me and checked on the wooden stake I’d packed into my boot–a replacement for the burnt one, thanks to Cambria–before settling in to wait.

I felt the newcomer before I saw him. The goose bumps ran up my arm and onto my neck and I clamped down against the creepy crawly feeling. A second later, a husky brown wolf emerged from the thick of the trees, heading in my direction. He stopped and looked around, his brown wolf eyes confused, as he scanned the forest floor for me. He sniffed the air and grew agitated; probably because he could smell me, but it hadn’t dawned on him to look up. It might’ve been a funny prank under other circumstances.

Suddenly, the wolf’s eyes sharpened into slits and his hair stood up. He fell into a crouch at the same moment the wave of goose bumps swept over me, intensifying exponentially. The brown wolf had just enough time to pull his lips over his teeth and growl before an entire pack of Werewolves shot into the clearing and pounced on him. There had to be at least seven of them, maybe more. It was too hard to count with all of them moving so fast. Half of them piled onto the brown wolf, taking him down in a flurry of fur. The other half spread out and began sniffing; the air, the ground, the leaves, the river’s edge.

Their eyes gleamed with the hunt.

Below me, a sandy wolf circled the tree, sniffing excitedly. It did a full lap of the tree trunk and stopped in the spot where I’d slept. Then it raised its head and looked up – right at me.

I froze.

The wolf tore its eyes from mine long enough to glance back over its shoulder and growl, long and loud, followed by, “She’s here.”

The rest of the wolves, who weren’t already occupied with killing, raised their heads and met my eyes, one by one. I felt the goose bumps rise and the creepy crawly feeling intensify. I was pretty sure this wasn’t good. Even if they couldn’t get up here in wolf form, all it would take was one of them changing back to human form and pulling me down to the others to end it. I had no choice but to fight.

Without taking my eyes off the wolves, I reached into my boot and pulled out my stake. I let it fall into a comfortable position in my palm and narrowed my eyes. I shoved aside every thought that didn’t involve ending the Werewolves below me. Then, with a deep breath, I pushed off my branch and dropped to the ground.

The sandy wolf was waiting.

He leapt toward me the moment my feet hit the ground. I knocked him aside with my free hand and sent him sprawling. Another one was there to take its place, and I used a combination kick-hit move that I’d learned in Professor Flaherty’s class. I was so pleased with myself when it worked to knock the wolf aside that I almost missed the one coming at me from the other direction. At the last second, I kicked my foot out and nailed the wolf in the shoulder. I spun, using my body’s momentum, and pushed the stake into its chest as I came around. It slid in and out in a clean motion and the wolf dropped to the ground, breathing heavily. It made no move to get up.

One down.

Six to go.

Two more were already on me and even though I managed to deflect their teeth away from my flesh, I knew this wouldn’t last long. Out of the corner of my eye, I could make out the still form of the brown wolf I’d seen first, the one Miles had sent to get me. It wasn’t moving, and I didn’t need to check for a pulse to know it wasn’t breathing, either.

I was on my own.

The knowledge of that threatened to paralyze me, but I kept on. If I was going to die here, I was going to take as many of them with me as I could.

I pressed my lips together and swung my stake towards the nearest wolf. It lodged in the Were’s rib cage, and I yanked it sideways before pulling it free. The wolf let out a high pitched howl before falling at my feet. I stepped over it to meet my next attacker, using another move I’d learned in Flaherty’s class to block it and keep its teeth from breaking my skin.

All around me the sounds of the forest were dimmed by the incessant growling and snarling of my attackers. I used that to see them coming, even from behind me. I twisted and turned in every direction, trusting my body and my instincts to block whatever came at me.

The Werewolves teamed up, coming at me in groups of two. It wasn’t quite as easy to block two at a time. I could feel myself getting tired. It felt like I’d been fighting for hours when in reality it had been what, two minutes? Three?

I spun again, maneuvering away, this time losing my balance and sidestepping so I wouldn’t fall. Unfortunately, I sidestepped right into the path of an oncoming Were, and before I could get clear, I felt the stinging swipe of claws rake down my back, ripping my shirt and flesh all at once. Tears formed in my eyes, and I blinked them back, shutting out the stinging pain.

I whirled and leaned away from the teeth already headed straight for my face. I brought my stake down in an arc and smashed it into the wolf’s eye. It yelped and jerked away and I barely managed to pull the wood free before the wolf took off, yelping in pain in a haphazard circle around the clearing.

I didn’t have time to fall back again before another wolf was on me. With claws extended, it leapt at me, pushing me to the ground and pressing its claws into my shoulders. I flinched from the pain and was surprised enough to be going down that I didn’t even have a chance to roll away. The wolf landed on top of me, pinning me underneath it. Its jaw was only inches from my face. It panted and stared down at me with glassy, yellow eyes. Saliva pooled at the corners of its mouth. I cringed away, more grossed out about a face-full of drool than I was about getting hacked up by those teeth.

“
You’re a fighter, Tara Godfrey,” it growled, bearing down on me so that its claws dug into the wounds it had opened on my shoulder. I grimaced. “But we are stronger. You made a mistake. One that needs to be rectified. The only way to make it right is with death. And now it is your turn.”

His paws bore down on my throat, making it harder to breathe. “What mistake?” I managed.

“
You half-breeds think you’re God but you’re not. You’re monsters, same as us, and monsters should be destroyed, not created,” it snarled.

Hot drool leaked from its jowls onto my shoulder, and I tried to shrink away, but its claws held fast to my punctured skin. The rank odor of its breath wafted into my face and there was suddenly nowhere left to go, to get fresh air.

My lungs felt like they were closing up on me. I was vaguely aware of the other pack members advancing towards us, waiting for the signal to close the gap and tear into me with their razor canines. I tried to focus, to find a way to break free of the one holding me still, but it was like my brain had overloaded or short circuited.

For the first time in a long time, I felt scared. Not just a little afraid, but well and truly terrified. I didn’t want to die like this at the hands of a rabid Werewolf pack. I squirmed and struggled, but my attackers only crept closer. I could see the feral glee in their glowing eyes; the murder they craved.

This pack was different from other Werewolves. Different from Leo or even Miles. They were clearly all about the hunt and even more about the kill. There was no perverted craziness here, only cold blooded hunger for death. Maybe that’s what made me so afraid. A part of me knew–could feel–how much they were going to enjoy this. They wouldn’t make it quick.

My heart pounded. They were close now. A hush had fallen over them; the only noise was a soft growl emanating from somewhere deep in their throats. It blurred together until it became one sound, instead of several.

The one pinning me leaned towards me again, its sweaty muzzle only inches from my face.

“
You should’ve kept yourself far away from the likes of him. You’ve brought this on yourself.” He paused and then leaned even closer and lowered his growly voice so that I was the only one who heard the next part. “I will enjoy killing a half-breed like you. You smell too much like me but fight too much like
them
.”

Then he raised his head and opened his mouth, to give the signal to attack, no doubt.

A noise came from somewhere at the edge of the clearing and all of the Werewolves’ necks snapped that way, alert and attentive to the distraction.

I tried craning my neck around, but I was pinned. Any movement I made only dug the claws further into my flesh. I stayed still and prayed for a miracle.

More rustling and then a figure broke free of the branches. All I caught was a blur of motion out of the corner of my eye and two wolves went down. A sharp cry went up among the remaining four, including the one who still held me pinned. He nodded his head at the three still standing somewhere behind me and they rushed off. Their growls were menacing and still held a hunger for a kill. Whether it was me or someone else didn’t seem to matter.

I crossed my fingers for whoever was out there fighting for me and tried to summon the strength to push the Were off me and take him down while the coast was clear. I shoved as hard as I could, still aware of the claws digging into my shoulders, and managed to shove him a few inches sideways before he bore down with his full weight, paralyzing me against the dirt. I squeezed my eyes shut against the stinging pain and bit my lip until I tasted blood.

“
No you don’t,” the Were growled. “I am going to finish this while I can.” He reared his head back and revealed the sharpest, grimiest canines I’d ever seen. I could see the intent in his eyes. He was going to strike.

Something inside me snapped, and I felt a guttural sound rise up in my throat. I let it loose without thinking and was shocked when a vicious snarl escaped my lips. I think the Werewolf was a little surprised, too, because he paused to blink at me. Then he must’ve regained his concentration because his eyes narrowed to slits and he snarled back, sounding a lot more intimidating than I had.

Then an arm–a human arm–grabbed him from behind and yanked.

The Werewolf went sprawling backwards and the arm let go. A shadow fell over me. I blinked into the glare, waiting for my eyes to adjust so I could see exactly who it was rescuing me. If it was Miles, would I have to say thank you? Would I be forced to be grateful?

That question was never answered. When I blinked again and the face came into focus, I almost choked. It wasn’t Miles who stood over me, watching me with the worst combination of concern and outrage I’d ever seen.

“
Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“
Alex? How did you find me?” I pushed myself onto my elbows and Alex extended his hand to help me up. I started to reach for him, but a glimpse of fur behind him distracted me.

“
Look out!”

He swiveled and brought his hands up, sidestepping and delivering a blow all in one motion. The Werewolf that had pinned me was thrown to the ground. It was up again, and circling, in a blink. Alex fell into a fighting stance, letting it circle but leading it away from where I still lay in the dirt.

I pushed myself up and crawled to the base of a tree to keep out of the way. I glanced over, wondering what had happened to the rest of the Weres who’d been about to take a bite out of me, and found the ground littered with furry bodies. Some of them had gaping wounds that seeped red. Wooden stakes protruded.

None of them moved.

I turned back to Alex and the remaining Werewolf and took a deep breath. I needed to get a hold of myself so I could jump in if Alex needed me. The Werewolf he faced was huge, determined, and completely focused on the kill. I could feel it when I looked at him. I could see it in his eyes and the set of his jaw.

Alex didn’t look any less determined, though. He never took his eyes off the Were and was still circling, though I knew he was waiting for the Were to make the first move. That was Alex’s style.