Howling Moon (42 page)

The Jeep lurched
and bucked, its engine whining in protest. Raphael thanked God he’d chosen to drive die Jeep this morning because the tracks were sliced with gullies from die last melt and very nearly vertical. Yellow dust blew into me air in a cloud that marked their passage. Raphael rolled down the window. Tall weeds, bent and bowed from the last snow, slapped at his face as he looked toward me sky. There was no sign of a helicopter yet. The vehicle rocked and slid sideways, its wheels spitting loose gravel in an arc as they sought traction. Finally, they caught and the car lurched forward. It slammed roughly against a half-buried boulder, rocking dangerously onto two wheels before gravity won and the vehicle hit the ground with a solid whump.

Betty swore roundly as her head slammed against me roll bar. She was crammed uncomfortably into the backseat. Cat was bracing herself with her left arm on the dashboard, while her right hand held the handle above the door in a death grip. Her eyes were closed, and Raphael knew she was concentrating, trying to use her gift.

Raphael said a silent prayer of thanks that Betty hadn’t been stopped on me way to their meeting point. The arsenal she’d brought with her would’ve earned her a one-way ticket to prison from the humans, and the graveyard from Wolven. She’d brought
everything:
all the weapons, all me ammo. Since he wasn’t sure what they were up against, he hadn’t argued when she and Cat had transferred everything from the Volvo to die Jeep.

Raphael slowed slightly. This next section was going to be difficult, even for the Jeep. He had chosen the most direct route he knew up to the helipad. It was barely more than a trail, and not something he would’ve dared in any other vehicle. But this route had saved them a good half-hour of time. It was time they’d need because the last part of the route would have to be taken on foot and from upwind if they were to have any hope at all of surprise.

They were probably outnumbered. There were only three of them, after all. Betty hadn’t trusted anyone else enough to bring him along as backup. Neither had Raphael.

They were nearly to the point where the trail intersected the two-lane highway. Raphael pulled the vehicle to a skidding stop beneath a small stand of pine. He jumped from the vehicle, and began to strip.

“I’m going to scout ahead while you unload. Cat, if I’m not back in twenty minutes, use your gift to look for me.”

Raphael started up the steep incline in wolf form. He tried to use what cover he could. There wasn’t much. They were not quite high enough to be above the tree line. The rocky ground was only sparsely dotted with slender pines and dead weeds. Small patches of snow dotted the spots the winter sun couldn’t reach. His paws were nearly silent as he moved with practiced ease through familiar territory. Every sense was stretched to its utmost. He circled wide, intending to approach the area from behind and above where Cat had last seen their enemies. He was looking either for scouts, or for signs of electronic surveillance. If he were in charge, he’d use both. He hoped Yusef wasn’t as methodical, but he’d be willing to bet otherwise. You didn’t rise through the ranks to become one of the Chief Justice’s personal bodyguards without being both very good and very thorough.

He stopped, barely daring to breathe. He tilted his head, listening: in the distance, to his left he heard a familiar voice. It was Martin, and he wasn’t happy at having been assigned to patrol the perimeter.

“I just
did.
There’s no one out here.” Raphael heard the click and static from a radio. Yusef’s voice coming through the speaker was only slightly distorted.

“The sensors picked up something to your right. It’s about the right size for a wolf.”

Raphael stepped softly across the rough ground, moving into the deep shadows of a rocky outcropping. He could hear Martin’s approach easily. The fool wasn’t even
trying
to be quiet.

Raphael.

Not
now,
Cat!

They had someone patrolling in wolf form. I had to kill her. She was getting ready to sound the alarm. Betty and I are moving out. We’ll be taking positions on high ground.

Right.

Cat cut the connection just as Martin appeared in the open space opposite the outcropping. He was moving more carefully now, his nostrils flaring as he scented the breeze. He was armed, but it was obvious he wasn’t used to carrying a weapon. Still, it didn’t take a great deal of skill to kill someone at close range with the right firearm. And it was a perfectly lovely gun, his favorite Ruger, the one that had disappeared at Violet’s house. Raphael’s eyes narrowed as he recognized his weapon and knew where Martin had to have gotten it.

He waited, tensing every muscle for the perfect instant, when Martin was turned, then leapt with everything he had, claws and teeth rending skin and cloth as his weight carried both of them to the ground with a jarring impact that slammed the breath from Martin’s lungs and sent the gun flying from his hand.

It was a quick, dirty fight. Martin was alphic enough to resist most of Raphael’s magic, but he’d relied too much on the gun in his hand. With that gone, in human form, he was no match for Raphael’s teeth and claws. Still, somehow he managed to get his bent legs beneath the wolf’s body straightening them to throw Raphael off of him.

Martin frantically scuttled away on his hands, trying to buy time and space to shift, but Raphael leapt onto his back. Locking his jaws around Martin’s spine he jerked his head sideways until he heard the fragile bones snap, felt the spinal cord sever. He shifted then. With a single, brutal kick he rolled Martin’s limp body onto its back. He was alive, though paralyzed. His lungs struggled for air, the messages from the brain barely making it through to keep life in his broken body. Given a chance he might heal. But Raphael would make sure there was no chance. Raphael bent down to pick up the Ruger. He put the first bullet in Martin’s chest, the second in his skull.

The radio crackled inside the pocket of the dead man’s jacket. “Black,
report!”

Raphael retrieved the radio, and pressed the button to transmit. He focused, deliberately mimicking the dead man’s voice. “Ramirez is dead.” He made his voice triumphant. “I
killed
the bastard!”

“Bring the body down here.”

“Why?”

“Just
do it,
Black. Everybody else, report.”

Daphne Black was the first to report. “I’m here with the Sanchez woman. She’s healing.” Raphael counted as three additional voices came over the radio, all wolves, all members of
his
pack. Raphael felt die bile rise, and his eyes bled red as his power rose in reaction to his rage.

“Melissa, report.
Melissa?”
There was no answer. Nor would there be. Raphael cursed under his breath. He should’ve warned Cat to take the radio, but there was no help for it now, and even with magic augmenting it, he couldn’t make his voice a feminine soprano.

“All right people. We have company.” Yusef’s voice was calm. “Stay alert.”

Cat moved with
exquisite care. Avoiding the patches of snow was obvious, but there were other ways of leaving your mark upon the ground, and every one of the Sazi in Yusef’s group was bound to be more experienced at hunting and tracking than she was.

She paused, sending out a tendril of thought. Betty was in position and loading her weapons. She had chosen a tall rock formation that would give her an excellent view of the helipad. Of course she’d have to be damned careful
not
to allow herself to be silhouetted against the skyline – but she was smart enough to know it. She was also armed to the teeth, having taken both the Tommy gun and the grenade launcher, and ammunition for both. Her half-healed chest wound might not allow her rapid mobility, or her usual strength, but she was determined to be a part of this fight.

Cat had chosen feline form. Guns were great distance weapons, but they made
noise.
She’d dispatched the female guard with teeth and claws in near silence. It had bought them precious minutes, and Cat wasn’t wasting an instant of it.

Holly, are you there?

Cat? Oh, my God, Cat! They killed Jasmine, and I heard them say-It’s all right. That was Raphael pretending to be Martin But it sounded –

Trust me, I know. But we need information. Do you know where you are, how many of them there are, and how many are guarding you?

I’m in the back of a van. The only one with me is Daphne, but I don’t know how many others there are.

Right.

Cat heard the snap of a twig and a metallic click. Her body reacted before her mind could make sense of the sounds, jumping sideways.

The shot was loud. It echoed deafeningly off of the rocks as the bullet sent splinters flying like miniature missiles from the pine she had been standing in front of.

She attacked in a blur of speed, eviscerating the gunman before he could pull the trigger for a second shot. He screamed, a high-pitched, hopeless sound that ended in a wet whistle of air as Cat tore the head from his neck with a single swipe of her massive paw.

Too much was happening at once. There were gunshots, screams, and the howling of injured wolves. Cat felt Raphael’s rage and panic. There were too many of them… they had him surrounded –

Cat ran with everything she had, the ground a blur beneath her paws. She’d nearly reached him when the explosion from the first grenade hit. It missed by a fair margin, but the noise was deafening and a rain of rock, dirt, and shrapnel flew through the circling wolves.

Though bloodied, the wolves showed no sign of retreating. Growling their defiance, they turned their attention to Cat.

Yusef, meanwhile, stood in a two-handed stance, firing silver bullets at the blur of motion that was Raphael until his gun clicked empty. Cat felt a surge of power, and a huge black bear rose on his back legs where the gunman had stood.

She felt, rather than saw the first wolf’s attack. Low and fast, it was a move meant to hamstring an opponent. Cat rolled out of the way, directly into the path of one of the others. He dove onto her, his bared fangs going for the jugular, but she used her momentum and speed to carry her until
she
was on top, her claws digging into the thick meat of his body. She pulled him forcibly away, his jaws snapping at air a fraction from her throat, even as his breathing grew labored from the pressure as she used main strength to try to crush his chest.

There was the thud of impact, and she was thrown off of her opponent by a smaller female wolf. “You killed my son.” The animal stalked toward her, its eyes glowing and feral, magic crackling along her body, until each hair stood on end. A second wolf moved to flank her. The injured male had reverted to human form, and was crawling in the direction of a discarded weapon.

Cat positioned herself as best she could, putting a boulder at her back. She crouched, preparing for the attack when the first shot rang out. The injured male went down screaming, blood spraying from the hole in his chest. A second bullet took the female in midleap. It was a clean chest shot, but it did not take her heart. Still, she fell to the ground with a thud, blood spurting from the wound as red bubbles frothed her lips.

Cat glanced over in shock, seeking the source of the gunshots. Holly Sanchez balanced herself against the side of a white van, all her weight on her good leg. Blood oozed from dozens of scratches and bites, but she held a 9 mm Beretta in a classic teacup grip and was firing rounds into their enemies.

There was no time to wonder how her friend had escaped, or where and when she’d learned to shoot with such lethal accuracy. The last wolf was upon her.

Cat took the bulk of the impact of his leap on her shoulder. Turning, she bit at his neck. The coarse fur of his neck ruff filled her mouth as she struggled to reach the vulnerable skin of his throat. His claws raked down the side of her body in long, bloody furrows. She twisted away, emitting a high-pitched yowl of pain and rage as she spit the fur from her mourn.

The wolf darted in, pressing his advantage. Cat spun, lashing out with her claws. She scored along his face, lacerating his eye so that blood and fluid splattered the dusty soil between them. He howled in pain, but continued attacking, keeping his head turned to watch her with his one good eye as he snaked to and fro, looking for an opening.

A shot rang out. Bone and brains sprayed from the wolf’s skull. He staggered, and fell to the ground.

Cat looked around the battleground. Holly was hopping on one leg from one to another of the injured wolves, making sure each was dead.

Raphael stood in human form over the corpse of the massive bear. Even as she watched, his terrible wounds began to heal – but too slowly.
Betty. He needs to get to Betty.
That thought brought another, less welcome one. Where
was
Betty? There’d been no fire from her position since the explosion from her firing the grenade launcher.

She was sending her thoughts toward Betty, her ears ringing. Through the other woman’s eyes she saw a huge eagle swooping down, yet again for an attack. She was bleeding badly, her injured movements making her too slow. Raphael’s thoughts joined Cat’s. We have to help her.

Raphael shimmered and changed forms, limping in wolf form toward the cliff where Betty was fighting. Holly did the same.

Cat turned to follow the two of them, but froze when she heard the whine of an engine coming in fast.

I knew you’d come, kitten.

A white helicopter with a navy stripe skimmed the treetops. It started to slow, then banked turning away from the carnage below.

“What are you doing? I told you to land!”

Cat could hear the argument through her link with Jack.

“It’s a goddamned war zone down there!” The pilot announced. “I’m not – “

“You will do as your told or you will die.”

“You won’t shoot me.” The pilot’s voice was certain. “We’d crash.”

Cat heard the sound of gunshots in her head, and the pilot’s scream of pain.

“Now,” Jack’s voice was suave, utterly calm. “Land the helicopter now and I’ll heal your wounds. If you don’t, you’ll die.”

The copter turned, its path uneven, as though the pilot were struggling against the controls. He probably was. Cat hadn’t gotten a visual along with the conversation, but Jack was definitely cold-blooded enough to do exactly what he said. Particularly since he was absolutely certain in his own mind that
he,
at least, would survive a crash.

I take it Yusef and the others failed? How very annoying. Still,
we’re
here and that’s what really matters.

The helicopter was beginning to settle toward the pad. Cat watched as the side door opened. She wanted,
needed
to move, but her muscles simply refused to obey even the simplest commands.

The aircraft was still airborne when an armed guard opened the door. He drew his weapon, aiming it in Cat’s direction, only to have Jack swat it away. “She is
mine.”

Cat wanted to scream in frustration, shout for help, but even her vocal cords seemed frozen.

She could see Jack’s thoughts clearly now. This wasn’t about her. It never had been. It was all an elaborate ruse. He’d chosen to attack her, to kill her parents
so that she would mate to Raphael.
He planned to torture her for days, killing her exquisitely slowly, savoring the pain it would cause her mate. Raphael would die with the knowledge that it was his love that killed his mate.

She watched in horror as Jack shifted forms, preparing to jump. In the distance she heard a deep
whump,
saw a small dark object fly through the open door of the helicopter.

There were male shouts from the chopper. Jack and the guard dived through the open door. They landed badly on the hard ground, but scrambled away with amazing speed, just as an explosion blew the rear portion of the helicopter away, sending shrapnel flying.

She could move! Cat dived behind a boulder as the helicopter seemed to scream in its death knell, the propellers tearing viciously through trees and dirt as it spun in an out-of-control cartwheel before slamming to a stop against unforgiving rock and shattering.

Watching in horror she saw the rear propeller fly loose, beheading the bodyguard. Blood sprayed in an arc from the severed arteries in his neck. It seemed to take forever for his body to crumple to the ground.

She looked frantically for Jack, finding him beneath a chunk of the engine block. He struggled to free himself, but the bottom half of his body wasn’t moving She shifted to human form, staring down at the huge, spotted cat that had haunted her nightmares.

You don’t have the balls. Jack’s eyes gleamed with malice. It would be cold-blooded murder.

He was stalling. She could see it in his mind. Given a few minutes he would heal. She felt him gathering his strength to try to control her body as he had a few minutes before, but it was still too soon.

She bent down, retrieving the gun from the guard’s corpse. She checked to make sure the safety was off, and that it was loaded. By the time she’d taken the few steps back to where she’d left him, Jack was looking stronger, almost able to move. His mind beat against her shields.

“Cat – “ She heard Raphael moving behind her. She knew he wanted her to let him be the one to end it. But she couldn’t do that, for so very, many reasons.

“No, Raphael. This is mine.”

The great cat’s eyes followed her as she stepped close to him. She aimed the gun at the center of his massive chest. This, is for my parents, Brad, and the rest. She pulled the trigger. Blood and meat exploded from the animal’s chest as the bullet found his heart. She aimed a second time, focusing on a spot between his blazing green eyes. This – she pulled the trigger – is for me.