For the Good of All (Law of the Lycans Book 7) (20 page)

Time for a strategic retreat. He’d free the man in the shed tonight. Doing so any earlier might endanger rescuing the pups; a missing prisoner would put everyone on alert. Stone faded back into the jungle, his mind rapidly calculating the time and distance he had to travel, the steps that needed to be taken. Head back to the base camp, collect Christina, return here after nightfall. Yes, he’d definitely need her assistance. Speed would be of the essence. Once the children’s absence was noted, a search would be launched. He’d have to quickly put as much distance as possible between the drug lord’s gang and themselves. The possibility that the pups might fall into the hands of Dante and
Sister
Denise made his blood run cold.

Chapter 8

Tina sat on a rock by the river, idly swatting at bugs and attempting a few spells and hexes. With nothing else to do, it seemed as good a way as any to pass the time. Gwyneth would be so proud, she thought wryly. The woman was always after her to practise.

So far, she’d managed to cause a small curl of smoke to appear in the fire pit she’d dug. It hadn’t burst into flames like it was supposed to though and she’d soon given up since the effort was giving her a headache. Using a match or a lighter was so much easier.

After that, she’d switched to hexes, not because they were easier but because, if they worked, the results were more satisfying. Hers, unfortunately, usually went horribly wrong, probably because she only attempted them when she was angry. There’d been an incident in high school when she’d tried to hex a teacher over a bad grade and instead had caused the student council president’s shoe laces to tangle together. The poor guy had fallen and broken his nose. And then there’d been the time someone had rear-ended her in the parking lot. Every drum in the school’s marching band, which happened to be practising in the nearby football field, had suddenly burst rather than the offending driver’s tires.

Hexes were her downfall. Boredom, however, had her giving them another try. Surprisingly, she managed to hex a bee, causing it to circle a flower a dozen times rather than immediately landing.

“Yay!” She cheered, pleased with her accomplishment. “Take that, Mr. Bee!”

Her concentration broken, the hex dissipated and the bee landed on the flower seeming not to care that she’d bested it just moments before.

“Today a bee, tomorrow the world!” Tina laughed at her own silliness. Buoyed with success, she was ready to try another. She looked around for something else to hex.

There was a… Well… Her shoulders slumped. Nothing really worthy of a hex was in sight. Sure, the bugs circling her deserved to be hexed, but their close proximity made her leery of trying in case it somehow backfired and she injured herself.

Maybe it was better to stop while she was ahead.

She stretched and stood up. The sun was lower in the sky now. Would Stone be returning soon? The idea of having a meal ready for him struck her fancy and she spent some time gathering fruit. Then, recalling how he’d had caught some fish for dinner the previous evening, she decided to try her hand at the task. Stone’s supplies were in a neat pile near the hammock, his large rifle leaning against the backpack as if guarding the contents. Carefully, she slid it aside hoping he had the safety on. She had no idea how to use a gun; she probably should have told him that. Oh, well.

Stone had used a string and hook yesterday so it had to be in his backpack somewhere. She began to search.

The contents of the pack were surprisingly meagre without the hammock and mosquito netting tucked inside. A sat-phone, a few packages of dried food, first aid supplies, a water purification kit. She took a moment to examine the kit, wondering what it contained. Iodine tablets and, strangely enough, condoms. Several interesting ideas came to mind as she held the foil packages in her hand, a smile dancing over her lips before she gave her head a shake and continued on with her search. Gingerly, she removed a lethal looking knife and…there it was. A hook and a string.

Finding a probable location near the river, she prepared to dangle the makeshift fishing rod in the water only to pause and eye the hook.

No bait.

Last night, Stone had found some wormy creatures under a rock. The idea of holding a slimy, wiggling bug and piercing it with a hook made her grimace. Maybe baiting the hook wasn’t needed. Maybe she could hex a fish into taking a nibble on the line even without bait. She’d had success with the bee, hadn’t she?

Frowning in concentration, she willed the fish to bite the hook. One swam close and she held her breath but, with the flick of its tail, it turned and disappeared into deeper water.

“Maybe I need to be closer,” she murmured. The bee had been only inches away, after all. She stepped into the river and balanced herself on a partially submerged rock ready to try again.

Water lapped about her ankles. The sun beat down on her back. Birds squawked overhead and bugs buzzed around her uncaring of her irritated frown. A muscle cramped in her leg, but she didn’t move. When an itch tickled the back of her neck, she resisted the urge to scratch. She wasn’t going to give up. Hexing a fish had to be possible, even for an incompetent witch like herself. She bobbled the hook up and down in what she hoped was a tempting fashion and leaned closer focusing all her powers of concentration on the sea creature below her.

“Come here, fish,” she crooned. “I have surprise for you.”

“Curious fishing strategy.” Unexpectedly, Stone spoke behind her and she jerked upright with a squeal of surprise, her feet slipping on the rock.

“Oh fudge!” Arms flailing she tried to regain her balance, the fishing line and hook swinging wildly through the air.

“Dammit!”

Splash!

Stone’s cursing coincided with her landing in the water.

Sputtering, she bobbed to the surface and pushed her wet hair from her face. “Geez, did you have to scare me half to death?”

Stone didn’t respond. Instead he glared at her, his mouth clamped over a spot on his forearm.

“What are you doing?” She waded towards the shore.

“What do you think I’m doing?” He mumbled the words, his mouth still clamped on his arm.

“How should I know?” Squeezing water from her hair, she made her way to where he stood.

“You managed to catch something with your hook.”

“I did? Where’s the fish?” She glanced about and then noticed the line was in his hand, the hook dangling empty from the end. Understanding dawned. “Oh. Sorry.”

He grunted and removed his mouth from the wound, poking at the injured flesh.

“Can I get you a bandage? I read in that survival book that injuries can get infected really quickly in the tropics.”

“No need. It’s a small puncture and my Lycan metabolism will take care of it.”

“Must be nice to heal so easily.”

“It helps. It’s not foolproof, of course.” He seemed to shake off any irritation from being harpooned by the hook, his face returning to its usual implacable expression. “A Lycan can still get sick and die. Severe injuries can lead to scars or permanent injuries, especially if the individual is in a weakened state.”

She eyed the scar on his face and recalled the ones on his back, wondering not for the first time where it had come from. He didn’t elaborate, returning instead to the topic of her fishing fiasco.

“Fish don’t generally respond to verbal coaxing, you know.”

“I was trying to use a hex to get it to bite onto the hook.”

“Most people use bait.”

“I know, but the idea of impaling a worm seemed gross.”

“So you decided to impale me instead?”

“It was an accident.” She sighed. “My hexes always go wrong.”

He looked at his arm again. “So it would seem.”

“I was going to make you fish for dinner. Now we only have fruit.”

“We’ll survive. No time anyway. We need to break camp.” He headed towards where their supplies were.

“We do?” She followed behind him. “That means you must have found the Duffys.”

He nodded. “The reports were correct. Only the kids are left. We have to get them out as soon as possible.”

Something about his tone caught her attention. “What’s wrong?”

He turned so quickly she almost ran into him. “You mean beyond the fact that some fucking drug lord named Mendoza is selling poison, has the surrounding communities living in fear, has murdered two Lycans and is planning on selling the pups to human traffickers?”

Tina winced at his sharp words but stood her ground, her hands planted on her hips. “Sorry. I know it was a stupid comment, but don’t take your bad mood out on me.”

Stone looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. After a moment, he apologized. “Sorry. You’re right. It’s just situations like this, seeing innocent lives endangered by bloody bastards…” He compressed his lips, a muscle working in his jaw.

She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I understand.”

He gave a quick nod.

“So, what’s the plan now?”

Several hours later, Stone crouched near the base of a large tree, Christina behind him. They’d made better time than he’d thought they would. The little witch continued to impress him, never once complaining as he’d led her along the rough trail he’d discovered that afternoon. Being this close to their goal, he hadn’t dared take the easier route along the river in case they were seen. It had been a punishing journey; heat, humidity and an afternoon rain made the going uncomfortable while leaves slapping against them, roots jutting up and spider webs hanging down at face level added to the misery. She’d been a real trooper.

Now they were about a couple hundred yards from the former Lycan Embassy, sitting and waiting for the occupants to go to bed for the night. That was when he’d make his move.

In the meantime, he’d continue to observe the guards and note the shadowy images of people inside the building as they passed by the windows. Rushing in without sufficient current data was what got operatives, and civilians, killed.

Everything appeared normal. There was no indication they were expecting trouble. So far, the guards were following the same pattern as they had in the afternoon, circling the area every twenty minutes. It should give him ample time to get in and out with the two children.

Stone eased back so he was leaning against the tree trunk, his hands resting lightly on his rifle, his gaze still fixed on the house.

“What’s going on?” Christina whispered the words to him.

“Nothing.”

“Okay.” She was silent for a minute then spoke again in hushed tones. “Can I ask you something?”

“What.”

“The person you were supposed to be working with was a man, right?”

He nodded, narrowing his eyes as one of the guards paused but it was only to bend and tie a shoe. “Yeah. Jenkins.”

“That’s what I thought. So if you were heading into the jungle with a man, why do you have condoms in your backpack? Are you bi?”

Slowly, he turned to look at her, not even trying to hide his shock. “I can honestly say no one has ever asked me that question before. And the answer is no.”

“Oh. So why the condoms? Are you like a boy scout and always prepared?”

“They’re for water.”

“Water?”

“Yep.” He shifted his eyes back towards the house. “A condom can be used to collect water. They’re waterproof, they stretch and they don’t take up any room in a backpack when travelling light is important.”

“Wouldn’t they break too easily?”

“If you wrap it in a t-shirt or put a sock around them, they’re less fragile. It’s not an ideal method, but in a survival situation, they’d do the trick. The ones you found were part of the water purification kit I picked up.”

“Well, the lowly condom has just risen in my estimation.”

“You can also use them to keep sand or mud out of the barrel of your gun.” He nodded towards the weapon he was cradling.

“And we certainly wouldn’t want your gun getting dirty, would we.”

He gave her a wink, acknowledging her double entendre. “We certainly wouldn’t.”

Tina grinned and settled back against the tree.

Stone returned to observing the guards. He could sneak up on them one at a time, quietly break their necks and dump the bodies in the jungle. It would be a fitting end for them, allowing them to be eaten by scavengers just as the Duffys had been. Unfortunately, it also increased the chance of discovery since one of the guards was bound to notice his compatriots were slowly disappearing.

“Why do you do this?” Tina shifted beside him, leaning lightly against his side.

He stiffened for a moment at the contact and then relaxed. It was a nice feeling, knowing he wasn’t alone. It also made him nervous as it gave him another person to be responsible for, another innocent life he could accidentally lose.

“Stone?” She prompted him and he realized he hadn’t answered her question.

“Why do I observe first? So I know the pattern of movement—”

“No, I mean
this
.” She waved her hand about. “Why do you travel all over like a soldier of fortune?”