Marked Clan #2 - Red (9 page)

My car. Fuck!

The keys to my car were back at Thermal, sitting in the coat check. I hadn’t kept my bag with me tonight, because like a fool I didn’t expect to run into any wolves. Where could I go? Wolves aren’t like those campy vampires from the movies—you don’t have any “safe” zones. Finding holy ground, moving water, none of that matters to them.

“Justin! Where did you park?”

“Straight ahead another block,” he said between gasps. “Who are those guys?”

“Trouble,” I said. “Get your keys out. We’re going to need to move fast.”

Hard footfalls behind us told me fast might not cut it. We needed to fly. I pulled out the epi pen and took deep breaths. My lungs protested, but I needed to be able to take one of them out quickly.

“Green Land Rover, two rows back!” Justin said. The headlights blinked as he unlocked it. We were less than fifty feet away. One of the wolves leapt and landed hard on the hood of a sedan in front of me. The metal crumpled under his weight, and he lost his balance for a second. I saw my chance and immediately plunged the pen into his chest.

Justin started the SUV. I had my hand on the passenger door, but another wolf yanked me back into the car behind us. I rolled with the throw and faced him.

“Come quietly, love,” he said. His cockney accent was so thick it oozed. “Donald wants a word, in person this time.”

I saw Justin reaching into the glove box and hoped that meant he was armed. Unless he had silver in the chamber, it wouldn’t do much, but distractions are useful.

“Yeah,” I said, “see, I’m already having brunch with Mickey and Minnie, so your boss is going to have to wait.”

The Brit had a limp. I hadn’t noticed it before, but one of his legs looked kind of deformed. It moved strangely when he walked.

Quit admiring the scenery, PJ. Where’s the other wolf? A hand on my mouth and one around my waist answered my question. I had to think fast. Before he could secure my arms, I ripped the bandage off. I took a deep breath, held it, and yanked one of my stitches. It came loose in a blinding flash of pain, and the wound immediately filled with blood. I pushed it into my captor’s face. He dumped me to the ground and backed off.

Justin was out of his SUV now, holding a gun on the Brit. The wolf seemed unconcerned.

“Not your fight, guv. Best run along.”

“I’ve dealt with worse than you,” Justin said, “just back off and let the lady go.”

I kept an eye on the wolf that’d tried to grab me and walked over to the SUV. My arm throbbed, slick with a gush of blood that didn’t show signs of letting up. If I had to, I’d shove my whole arm down one of their throats.

“Not going away easy this time, love,” the Brit said. “We’ve lost two already trying to pick you up. Donald says no mistakes on this one.”

He reached into his jacket and Justin fired. The blast knocked the wolf back a step, but the wound barely had time to bleed before it closed up.

“Wish you hadn’t done that, guv.”

The wolf unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the hood of the SUV. He was going to change. I pulled open the driver’s side door and shoved Justin in, then jumped into the back seat and locked the doors.

“Drive! Now!” I screamed.

Justin was shell-shocked. He still had the gun in one hand, and the other on the wheel.

“What just happened? Who are those people?” he asked.

“No time! Just drive!”

Justin dropped the SUV in gear and gunned the engine. The vehicle lurched, but didn’t move. I heard the engine revving. A shadow loomed up over the hood, and I saw the reason why—a massive wolf-creature held the front wheels off the ground.

Jesus, I knew they were strong, but that’s a whole new category.

“Holy fuck!” Justin said, and slammed his hand down on a switch by the steering wheel. The rear wheels engaged, and we rolled over the wolf. As soon as the tires hit pavement again, we peeled out of the parking lot and into the street.

The Land Rover rocked from an impact on the roof. I grabbed Justin’s gun and fired up. The speed we were going coupled with the bullets was enough to dislodge the wolf. He rolled off and onto the street. I knew he was just stunned, but he didn’t continue the chase.

Once the ringing in my ears subsided and the wolves were far behind us, I crawled into the front passenger seat and took Justin’s hand. It wasn’t shaking, to his credit, but I did have to pry it off the steering wheel.

“Okay,” he said with surprising calm, “I’ve seen a lot of strange things come into the hospital, but never anything like that.”

I stroked his hand, and realized I was covering him in my blood. “Why don’t we go somewhere safe and you can stitch me up again, Doc? Have I got a story for you.”

Chapter Fifteen

Justin’s condo was in a converted warehouse next to downtown Houston. There were lots of them in the area, mostly studio apartments with exposed beams and weathered brick walls to give them “personality.” I didn’t hold his taste against him, especially since he was busy trying to keep me from bleeding out.

“You honestly believe all of this?” he asked as he finished the last of the stitching and wiped the last of the blood off my arm. He started to wrap it for me but I waved him off. I could do that on my own.

“I do. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, except you’ve actually seen one of them in their other form. It’s kind of hard to deny what’s right in front of you.”

He got up from the small couch we shared and put away his kit. “I honestly don’t know
what
I saw out there. The whole thing was nuts…and fast. I do know this—that shot should have killed him. I thought he was reaching for a gun.”

I leaned back on the couch and stretched my legs across it. “Yeah, about that—since when do boy scouts like you pack heat?”

He laughed and lifted my feet so he could sit on the other side of the couch. “That’s just how I roll, PJ.”

I picked up a throw pillow and hit him in the face. “Liar. Really, what’s up with that?”

“I haven’t always worked at the best hospitals,” he said. “When I was a resident, I did a stint at a clinic down in Miami. We got lots of gang victims in there, some innocent, some not. I wanted protection, so I got it. Took classes. I still try to go to the range when I can.”

I realized then that I’d managed to have a whole conversation with Justin without sticking my foot in my mouth.
About fucking time I got comfortable with him. Come to think of it, maybe the fucking was what did it.

“Doesn’t that kind of go against your whole oath? ‘Do no harm,’ that sort of thing?”

He shook his head. “I’m always willing to stitch someone up if there’s a misunderstanding, but I’m not a pacifist. You can’t afford to be these days.”

The patio door slid open and in walked Slate. Justin looked at her, then at me, and back to her again. He stood and made like he wanted to go for the kitchen for something.
Another gun, perhaps?

“She’s with me, Justin. She’s safe. Well…if she wanted to kill us she wouldn’t have made herself so visible.”

Justin stopped and looked at Slate. The woman nodded. “She is correct. I’m not here for you.”

Slate inclined her head at my fresh bandages. “They came after you again.”

“Yeah,” I said. “This crew had a guy with a British accent. Said their boss was named Donald? Ring any bells?”

Slate closed the patio door and leaned against it, crossing her arms. “No. I’ll ask Lupin. All I know is that a strong pack has set up here while we were gone. They have ties with some of the local gangs.”

Justin waved at us to get our attention. “Pardon me for interrupting, ladies, but can one of you explain how you just scaled a five-story condo, barefoot?”

Slate looked at Justin and tilted her head in a very canine expression. Her eyes showed a hint of amusement. She turned to me. “He doesn’t know?”

“Justin, Slate is one of them. Well, not one of
them
, but she’s a wolf.”

He stiffened at the word, but didn’t bolt for the kitchen. “I’m…not sure what to say to that. How does it…work? I mean, the guy we ran into tonight could change at will. Can you?”

Slate nodded. I hoped to God she didn’t decide to strip down right here and show him. We were
so
not that far along in our relationship.

“PJ tells me her blood is toxic to your kind. Is that right?”

Slate nodded again.

“Why is that?” he asked her. “Call it a professional curiosity.”

“Long story,” I said. “It’s not really important right now.”

Slate pushed off from the patio door and walked toward the couch. “We should go. You have to train.”

“Train for what?” Justin asked.

Slate ignored him and walked to the front door. “Are you coming?” she shot back over her shoulder.

Demanding bitch, isn’t she? Well, you know she’s not trying to kill you, and that last group was stronger than you’ve seen before. What would it hurt to try and learn some new tricks?

I stood up and debated whether to slip my heels back on. Slate didn’t strike me as a gentle trainer, so I left them off. I gave Justin a hug and a long kiss before I left.

“Thank you for patching me up,” I said. “We can have a real date again soon. I promise.”

I followed Slate out, leaving a very confused Justin standing in his living room. I just hoped that he wasn’t going to become a target now too. I kind of liked him.

“You should be careful who you tell about us,” Slate said.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Annie Oakley. I only told him because he was with me when they attacked. He saw them change.”

She walked ahead of me, and fast. I had to jog to keep up. Where was this training, and why was she in such a hurry?

“He is likely a target now,” Slate said. Hearing my own fears echoed back to me didn’t help me get rid of them. “Pity. He was quite handsome.”

I put a hand on her shoulder and she stopped.

“Was? What the fuck makes you so sure he’s already dead? He’s not some innocent little lamb, you know. He can take care of himself.”

Slate’s mask cracked for just a brief second, and I saw something almost human. When she spoke, it was in a different tone than before—quieter, almost conciliatory.

“Let’s hope he can.”

Slate led me downstairs and into the parking garage. She clicked open the doors on a beat-up silver sedan. It was so…normal. I don’t know what I expected her to drive (or if I even thought she drove at all), but it gave me pause.

She opened the driver’s side door and looked at me. “We’ll train north of here. It’s too far to run, even for me.”

I got in, and before long we were on the interstate headed to the north side of town. Slate drove like her personality—efficient and brutal. I spent most of the trip holding on to the armrest. Given the way I drive most days, it says something that she scared me.

Once we were out of the city limits, Slate pulled off and took us down a dirt road that led to an old farmhouse covered in graffiti. The windows were shattered, and the front door was a bare wooden frame with splintered teeth on one side. In the dark of the evening, the doorway was a gap-toothed maw. I hadn’t really kept track of where we were, but if I had to guess, I’d say somewhere between “bum” and “fuck.”

She parked and popped the trunk. I got out and took a look around. From the little bit of light trickling in from the city to the south, I picked out the land around us. There was nothing but dead field for a quarter mile in every direction and a thick line of trees to the east. It was an excellent place to hide a body. I just hoped Slate was telling the truth about wanting to help.

Slate shut the trunk and dug through a black duffel bag. She pulled out two leather-hilted daggers in sheaths and handed me one. They were heavier than they looked. I pulled it out of the sheath. Silver glinted in the waning moonlight.

Slate backed away from the car and rolled her head and shoulders like she was stretching for a workout. She planted her feet and beckoned me with one hand.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

“Kill me,” she said, “if you can.”

Chapter Sixteen

I pride myself on being in pretty good shape, but usually when I hunt I’m able to rely on other factors, like distraction and sex, to throw the wolves off. Slate wouldn’t fall for either of those, so I was left with just my instincts.

Slate lifted her leg off my throat before I blacked out, but only just. She stood and unpinned my arms. The look of disappointment on her face flashed me back to when I was five, standing with both feet firmly planted on either side of my first two-wheeler.

“You can do this, Peggy,” my mom had said, “You’re a big girl. Just push off and start pedaling. I’m right behind you.”

She started out with her hand on the seat. I made it about three feet after she let go and tanked. We tried again…and again…and again. By about the tenth time I could tell she was getting tired. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll keep working on it.”

She couldn’t hide her disappointment that day. It was the first time I saw that look, but not the last. I’d come home after curfew one night to her sitting on the couch, cup of tea in her hands, and that look on her face. I
hated
that look. It made my heart sink to my knees.

“Are you going to get up or what?” Slate said.

I stood, dusting the grass off me like it would help my wounded pride. I’d killed dozens of wolves over the years and this woman managed to floor me in ten seconds. Some wolf hunter I was.

“I’m faster than the males you usually deal with,” she said. “You need to anticipate. Put yourself where I’m going, not where I’ve been. Come at me again.”

I circled around her, feinting with the dagger, trying to draw her attention. She drew away, masking herself in the night shadows.
All right,Yoda. Where is she going?

She moved, and I did my best to anticipate where she’d strike next. I ended up on my back again, with her arm pinning my throat. She had just a hint of a smile on her face this time.