Sharon's Wolves (Wolf Masters Book 10) (32 page)

All Cooper could do was pray Sharon could somehow hear them. He didn’t want her to lose hope. He had no idea how deep this pile of rocks was or how long it would take to remove it, but he needed her to be alive when they finished.

Every time he thought of her inside this cave, trapped with a madman, he cringed. What if Sandhouse decided he’d rather kill her than let her be rescued? He glanced at Melinda.

Melinda met his gaze. “Stop it. She’s alive.” She leaned on one of the shovels her brothers had hauled in. Her face was contorted. There was something she wasn’t saying. Cooper prayed it didn’t have to do with Sharon’s well-being.

“And Sandhouse? What about him? You gonna ease my mind by telling me she’s in there alone?”

She scrunched her forehead and wiped sweat from her brow. She shook her head. “I can’t feel anyone else. Just Sharon. It’s weird. I know. But let’s have hope.”

“You think he put her in there and left her there to die?” Jackson asked.

“I don’t know,” Sharon muttered.

Cooper lifted his gaze to the two spirits still hovering above them. They were calm and shimmering.
Please… Please let her be safe
.

But why wasn’t she answering?

»»•««

Sharon moaned. She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temple as she realized it wasn’t a nightmare. She was still trapped in a cave in the dark. Cold. Shivering. Achy. Her head was less foggy, though.

She flipped on the flashlight, thankful it still worked, and rolled onto her back to find the black smoky aura still at her side.

She blinked several times.

It’s a spirit… A guide… The manifestation of the soul of a wolf who had already passed on. Clarity made her sit upright. She blinked at the shimmering spirit as it swelled to a larger size. Was it pleased with her recognition?

A noise made her jerk her head around, half expecting to find the asshole who’d gotten himself killed alive and well and ready to terrorize her some more.

He was still dead on the ground. But there was a tapping noise. It had no distinct rhythm…

The
rocks
. Oh God. She jumped to her feet. Was someone outside trying to reach her?

She suddenly heard a voice, making her jump with a small shriek. She spun around, glanced at the dead guy to once again confirm he was dead, and forced herself to aim the flashlight at the farthest crevices of her enclosed space.

Nothing.

Again. The faint sound of a voice calling a name.
“Sharon…”

She focused. It was in her head. Jesus. A voice in her head? Mated shifters could do that…

She came alive and screamed into her mind at whoever might hear.
“Hello?”

“Jesus. Sharon. Are you okay?”

She spun around again. The spirit still hovered next to the backpack, but she needed to face the rocks. She knew with more clarity than before that she was trapped by a pile of rocks blocking the entrance. There was no doubt. And some man was out there who cared. Her mate. He had to be.
“I’m here. I’m inside the cave. Can you get me out?”

“Sharon?”
Another male voice. It brought tingles to her hands.
“Love. Talk to us. Are you okay? Are you alone?”

Another mate… She had two? Clearly she did, but Lord.
“I’m fine. Drugged. Trying to shake the fog.”

“Baby…”
the first man said.
“I love you so much. Please hang in there. Is Sandhouse with you?”

Baby
… He loved her…

“Sandhouse?”
She communicated the word, but it slipped from her mouth at the same time she realized the dead man on the ground had kidnapped her. Why? She projected her thoughts back.
“He, uh, died.”

“Died? Did you kill him?”

She flinched. Would that be a bad thing? He seemed evil.
“No. He died in the quake, or one of them. Crushed by the rocks.”

The other voice joined the first again.
“Thank God. Love. Don’t move. We’re getting closer. Can you see light peeking through anywhere?”

She shook her head before realizing no one could see her.
“No. Not yet.”
Shouldn’t she help?

“Please get back, love. I don’t want anything to fall on you in the event we dislodge it from outside or another tremor does more damage.”

She put several paces between herself and the collapsed section of cave. As she listened to the din of voices and clanging of tools, she closed her eyes. Her mates… Jackson… Cooper… She nearly jumped out of her skin.
“You’re my mates.”

“Yes, baby. We are. Are you a safe enough distance from the cave-in? I don’t want you injured when this thing falls.”

She nodded and then hesitated. No one was watching. She spun around again to find the spirit still hovering. “Who are you?” she whispered, knowing there would be no response. The spirit only meant to protect her, keep her calm, not hurt her.

Sandhouse
… The dead man was named Pete Sandhouse. Fuck. She jumped again. Her memory flooded back. He was a deputy on the reservation. He was a bigot… And he had kidnapped her by forcing her car to stop and then drugging her. So obvious. What she didn’t understand was why…

Because you’re mated to two men. He doesn’t believe in that way of life.

His rambling rage filtered into her mind. He was opposed to the races mixing. He’d spoken of having met his mate once. Was she white? And he’d denied her? The idea sent a shudder down Sharon’s spine. Denying one’s mate was nearly impossible. Unheard of. Perhaps he’d gone crazy from the act.

“Sharon?”
The voice of the first man came through clearer.

“Cooper,”
she responded.
“Jackson?”

A relieved collected sigh.

And then Cooper spoke again.
“Stay with me, babe. Are you injured?”

“No. Scared.”

“I know, love,”
Jackson added.
“We’re getting closer.”

The ground shook. Harder. With so much force she fell on her ass, skidding back from the pile of rocks. They dislodged, at least some of them, tumbling farther into the cave and covering the man who’d kidnapped her.

Sandhouse.

A hole at the top of the pile opened up the cave.

“Sharon!” The shout was loud. In fact, it was
out
loud.

“Yes. God, I’m in here.” She scrambled to her feet again.

“Shit.”

“I can see the smoke…”

“Work faster…”

“Hurry. Fucking hurry…”

So many voices. How many people were out there?

The spirit behind her came closer, hovering at her side now, seemingly staring down at her with a smile, even though that was ludicrous because there wasn’t even a discernable front or back to the aura. It was a shimmering cloud of smoke. Nothing more. Wasn’t it?

A hand reached through the top of the pile of rocks.

She screamed out in delight. “I can see someone.”

A woman’s voice broke through. “It’s me, Sharon. It’s Melinda. Stay back. Let us get a big enough hole. As soon as we can, you’re going to have to climb through here, and we’re going to run. Got it?”

“Yes.” Her heart pounded. “Run from what?” Sandhouse was dead. Were there other predators?

“The volcano, babe.”
Cooper’s voice was soothing in her head.

She glanced at the ceiling. Right. Jesus. Shit. She sure hoped this fog would clear soon. She felt like she was constantly one step behind everyone.

More rocks were removed. She could see Melinda’s entire arm now. Why was she the one at the top? Probably because she was smaller.

Yes. Melinda was incredibly small.

Sharon crept closer. She didn’t want to get injured if the earth shook again, but she wanted out of there. She was crazed with sudden claustrophobia and damn glad it hadn’t snuck up on her before.

“Sharon, can you see a big enough space to crawl through? How far off the ground is the hole?”

“Not far. I can do it.” She raced the two paces toward the pile and grabbed onto the highest rocks she could reach. She hauled her feet up next and then reached higher. It was only about eight feet off the ground. She could do this. She had to do this.

The earth shook again, and she froze, holding on for her life and praying this tremor was shorter and weaker than the last. Several rocks fell around her, and both her mates could be heard above everyone else, shouting for her to hurry.

She kept scrambling upward even during the latest earthquake.

“Sharon?” Jackson shouted. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” She grabbed higher, getting a good grip but wishing she had her normal strength. She wasn’t sure she was clear-minded enough yet to shift.

Finally, she reached the top and peeked over the edge. She smiled. “I have brothers.” She knew it sounded ridiculous, but she didn’t care. Besides, all of them chuckled for a few seconds before sobering again and pointing at her.

“Come on, Sharon. Let’s go. We’re running out of time.” She jerked her gaze to the man to one side. Cooper. The man next to him was Jackson. She knew. A flood of her life seeped back in. Four brothers. All mated in threesomes with another man and a woman. Her parents were there too. She felt the love as she put every ounce of her strength into getting higher and then squeezing through the hole.

As soon as she was halfway through, Cooper reached up, grabbed her under her arms, and hauled her the rest of the way out. He kissed the top of her head briefly, hugged her tight, and then lifted her into his arms and turned around.

Everyone was turning away from the cave hastily.

Her parents hung back. Her father smiled, wiped her hair from her face, and kissed her forehead. And then he grabbed her mother’s hand, turned around, and jogged away from the cave.

Tears stained her mother’s face, but she could only sniffle and run alongside her mate.

The others had already started running.

As Cooper ran with her in his arms, she dragged in a ragged breath. The air was thick with smoke.

“Cover your mouth, baby,” he shouted. “We don’t know the effects of ash on a shifter.” He lifted the front of his T-shirt over his own mouth and nodded at her jacket.

She did as he asked, ignoring the jacket to grab the front of her shirt. The material was thin enough to breathe through without depleting her oxygen.

Jackson ran beside them. He glanced at her every few seconds, holding his shirt over his mouth and nose also.

They emerged from the dense trees onto a service road. Three trucks lined the edge. Cooper nearly threw her into one of the cabs and climbed in beside her. Jackson rounded the hood and swung into the driver’s seat. Two of her brothers jumped into the back of the truck, and Jackson peeled away from the side of the road at the same moment the other trucks did.

“Come on. Come on…” Jackson seemed to plead with the gods for assistance.

“Are we that close to the lava?” she asked.

Cooper had one arm around her and twisted his head to look over both their shoulders. “Yes. But more importantly, we need the truck to run. If the engine gets clogged with ash, it won’t run.”

Jackson drove as fast as he could, knocking them all repeatedly into the doors. She felt bad for Trace and Griffen in the back. Her two oldest brothers held on to the sides of the truck with both hands, but they were constantly tossed to one side, making it difficult to keep a grip.

No one said a word for several minutes. A collective holding of breath filled the air. Ominous. Scary. Like nothing she’d ever experienced.

She craned her neck backward, and her eyes threatened to jump out of their sockets at the sight. Careening down the mountain was red hot lava.

Jesus. Could they even drive fast enough to escape it?

“You cut it too close rescuing me… Why didn’t you leave me?”

Cooper hugged her to his side with the arm around her shoulders. “Wasn’t an option. Not for any of us.”

She swallowed. If they weren’t still in dire straits, she would cry. But she needed to remain alert for the time being. There was still the chance the truck would stall out and they would have to run on foot.

She set a hand on Jackson’s thigh and squeezed. He was human. He wouldn’t make it out if they had to shift.

The engine choked.

She held her breath.

“Don’t die on me now,” Jackson muttered to the truck. “Don’t you dare.”

The truck kept moving, picking up speed as Jackson slammed on the gas to get them to safety. How far would they have to drive to escape the lava?

She twisted to look out the rear window again. It seemed they were farther away from the red oozing flow. Maybe?

Jackson took every turn right behind the truck in front of him. The truck that held her parents, Melinda, and another brother, Zach, in the cab. The one in front of it held her youngest brother, Logan, and two men who were…bears. Isaiah and Wyatt. She knew instinctively the two strangers had played a tremendous role in saving her life.

Cooper blew out a breath. “I think we’re going to make it.”

She craned her neck again, remembering the spirit that had waited with her. Was it still there?

She would probably never know.

The front truck took a sharp turn, followed by the second truck, and finally Jackson made the quick right also, onto regular pavement.

She blew out a long breath. They would live. They had to. There was no other option.

Cooper turned toward Jackson as soon as he was sure they were a safe enough distance from the lava to breathe easier. “Can I use your phone?”

Jackson grabbed it from the cup holder and reached across Sharon to hand it to him. He set his hand on her thigh and squeezed after he released the phone.

Cooper hadn’t stopped touching her from the moment they entered the truck either, as if she might disappear if they didn’t remain connected.

He punched in the numbers for Chuck from memory and waited for his coworker to pick up. “Come on. Come on.”