Silver-White (The Great North Woods Pack #1) (23 page)

Before them was a mash of sights, sounds
and smells that combined into one awful sense in their heads and hearts. All around
wolves and cats were clashing, gnashing, tearing and emitting terrible sounds
of fury. Evie realized then, too late, that she had not run to the controlled
wolf circle of the prior night. This was no border skirmish managed by her
grandfather. This swirling mass of raging bodies—a sight disheartening to even
the greatest of the old wolves, let alone a young fun lover—would not end with small
bloodshed, and would not be satisfied with the giving of scars. The feud was
old, and this battle that had erupted would only brake when the dealing of
death had too greatly impeded one side or the other. It was war.

What they had come upon was the worst
any wolf of Ludlow could fear. Over a dozen cats had slunk silently across the
southern borders, and in a tactic highly unusual for their kind, had banded their
strengths together, systematically closing on one household of greatly
outnumbered wolves.

When the pack of five arrived on the
border of the yard they saw, far across the open area, near the house, the first
family that had been accosted. Three wolves had formed a barrier around one
that lay thrashing on the grass. Around them cats crouched and swiped, hissing
terrible threats and jeering the injured wolf. Beyond that inner circle there
were more cats, facing outward from the circle, fending off the first wave of
wolves that had responded to the alarm call.

The arrival of Eli, Nathan and Anthony,
the second wave of wolves, had drawn more cats away from the first family, and
as Evie and the four others moved in, they heard and saw the heated battle that
had ensued. Some wolves struck fast and drew back quickly from swiping claws,
while others charged in fury, enduring the claws in exchange for a chance at a
death grip upon the throat of a cat.

To Evie’s young ears, the sounds of the
battle were almost worse than the sights. Both wolf and cat issued screams of
rage and pain—growls and hisses and snarls. And then, in a sickening second,
above the many confused sounds of battle which together formed a dense fog of
war, somehow Evie discerned a single cry of only pain.

Of the first family of wolves she saw
one that she knew by sight—David. The other two standing by she did not
recognize. But then, as she watched them, the wolf on the ground, though she
could not see clearly, cried terribly with the voice of Emmy, the young
she-wolf of the Wilson family. As the sound entered her ears Evie’s entire body
trembled with the horrible understanding. Her newest friend was injured horribly,
and her family was now fighting for their own lives as they tried to defend her.

From the pack of five Matthew and Earl
leapt into the battle after their short appraisal of the scene. Within seconds
they were deep within the mix, snarling and tearing at whatever portions of cats
they could reach. Evie and Erica stood trembling near the tree line, their
young senses overwhelmed. Ruth paced indecisively; to join the fight or guard
her daughter pulled her equally hard in both directions.

“Emmy,” Evie whined. “She’s hurt!”

The black wolf at her side snarled and
slightly crouched, as if she were preparing to spring.

“Stay back,” Ruth ordered, pacing and
stamping with bared teeth. “No game!”

The argument that ensued was hard for
Evie to follow. With the noise of the battle in the background, Erica’s new
voice became harder to distinguish through its panic. Rage had compelled her to
the battle, but now fear had entered into her heart, confusing her delicate new
senses and hampering her ability to communicate.

But then Erica growled clearly,
“Doctor Wilson.”

“You cannot beat them,” Aunt Ruth
scolded.

“Try, try!” Evie said.

At that same time, across the yard
another small group of wolves entered the scene from the opposite end, just
seconds after Matthew and Earl joined the fight. More cats were drawn to them,
and the first family, with Emmy wounded on the ground, became clearer to Evie’s
eyes. It was like a whole within the line of a football game, and the sight of
the opening sparked a sudden plan in her mind.

“Up the center,” Evie said.

“No!” Ruth scolded.

“Not fight,” Evie clarified. “Run.
Distract. Dr. Wilson helps Emmy.”

Erica understood well enough. In an instant
she dashed off, grazing past her mother’s attempted block. With no choice, Ruth
followed her daughter. Evie darted at her side, and within a few long strides she
pulled slightly ahead.

The black wolf was sleek and stealthy,
and she weaved between various battles with surprising ease in the early dark.
Distracted cats saw her only at the last moment, and the sleek black evaded
them with surprising cunning, catching several hasty swipes in passing that
tore fur from her body but could not reach her skin.

Then, when they were halfway through the
crowd, a wolf suddenly fell back only a few strides before the silver-white Evie.
She saw, adjusted her stride, and prepared to leap her fallen pack mate. As she
sprang, the cat attacking that fallen wolf noticed Evie’s white coat. Losing
its focus to take a greedy swipe at the young Snow, as Evie leapt, the cat’s
claws grazed the hairs of her soft belly. When she landed on her feet, she was
surprised to feel no pain at all.

Looking back for a split second, Evie
saw the clenched jaws of the fallen wolf tearing the throat from the cat she
had distracted. The cat’s claws dug the wolf, but only for the second it took
him to remove half of the cat’s unprotected neck.

There was no time for her to think or
comprehend the ugly sight. In the next blink Evie was facing her destination
once more. David Wilson was battling savagely with one cat, while his parents
still shielded Emmy from one more. Erica, running several body lengths ahead,
was nearly behind that cat now. With her body crouched low to the ground, Evie
saw her cousin snap her jaws upon that cat’s tail, bite down hard, pulling and
twisting with her neck while moving herself away, and tear the final foot of
the its tail completely off.

In a pained rage the cat spun on Erica,
swinging its forelegs wildly. As it spun, the white coat of Evie flashed in its
large eyes—the most hated symbol of the Snows. In a fury blinded by pain and
hatred, it set itself to catch the silver-white, who was now running straight
for its claws like a surprise gift.

From Evie’s view, as she began to swing
left in chase of Erica and away from the waiting cat, she saw the Wilson elders
make their moves; one moment the cat’s eyes flashed and its mouth hissed, and
the next moment the mouths of two angry wolves had closed around its neck and
head from either side, severing its spinal cord. As Evie whisked by, the cat’s
body quivered and spurted dark blood, but there was no longer any life in its reflective
eyes; black-red skin was all that held its head to its dying frame.

Erica and Evie were away from the fight
in seconds. They darted wide, spun and looked back into the mass of bodies.
Ruth had evidently stayed in the fight and was now aiding another wolf against
a cat.

“It works,” Erica growled.

“They want me most,” Evie said.

“Again!”

“Again,” Evie agreed.

“You lead. I bite what chases.”

Without taking another second to
consider how dangerous this plan was, or how lucky they had been to survive the
first run unscathed, Evie sprang once more into the mix. Erica followed close
to her white tail.

Near the Wilson house, Doctor Wilson had
dragged his daughter away by the scruff. Evie swept by them in a flash, her
eyes just catching the true horror of the situation; then ahead of her she saw
David. His face was wet with blood, his eyes blazing, and his growls seethed
with a rage that would have terrified Evie in any other circumstance. His
movements were fast, his strikes vicious as he battled a cat; the corpse of one
slain cat lay strewn on the grass, quivering its final movements behind his
tail.

Intent on distracting the cat, Evie rushed
close by this battle—so close that she felt the cat’s heavy tail lash the side
of her face. The instant the tail touched her she reacted with a turn of her
head, felt the tail against her whiskers, and bit down on it with all her
strength. Her angry bite was so strong that it actually surprised her when the
cat’s thick tail broke free in her jaws. And as the cat reacted to the unseen
attack with a slight turn of its head and a screech of pain, David struck with
his full force. Closing his strong jaws around the cat’s turned neck, in a fast
rip he tore its jugular, setting its lifeblood free, and instantly sprang for
the next closest cat, leaving another foe behind in the red-stained throes of
death.

The two youngest wolves wheeled around
once more and stood on the fringes of the chaos. Surveying the grounds, they
realized that the tides of battle were quickly changing. The middle of the yard
was still a mass of snarling bodies, but at least two more wolves were now joining
the fight from the far corner of the Wilson yard, and many of the cats that had
fought on the outer ring had now lost their battles. Some thrashed upon the
ground in agony. Others were completely still.

As Evie stood watching with the black
wolf growling at her side, she realized that the first to die were the first to
change. Where bloodied cats had lain moments before, the smaller forms of men
took their place; dead, horribly mutilated men—and one woman. Evie’s insides
turned over in disgust.

From the corner of the yard a massive
dark shape emerged from the shadows. The shape caught Evie’s attention, and lifting
her eyes from the dead and dying, she realized the outline of a wolf—the
largest wolf she’d yet seen. He was a monstrosity of an animal, larger even than
her white grandfather; his eyes were almost flame-red; his white teeth in his
open mouth the only light betraying his black bulk. At Evie’s side, Erica issued
a whimper mixed with a growl, a single expression of both awe and fear.

“Abel,” she said.

The shadowy monster entered the yard
with heaving sides and steaming breaths, having run many miles in few hours. He
surveyed only for a second or two, and then with a roar threw himself into the
battle, hitting it like a tidal wave, bulling wolves from his path, and striking
at the nearest cat with a massive bite. Tearing with his strong jaws, with a
jerk of his powerful neck the black wolf all but severed the head from the
muscled frame of what had been the largest of the cats present.

At the sound of his growl and the sight
of his first victim, every cat still capable of running gave up its battle and
fled the yard by the southern tree line. Startled also were many of the wolves,
some of which had never laid eyes on the fabled giant. Several of the angriest
and least injured wolves sped off in pursuit of the fleeing cats—one of which
was David, with the lust of vengeance rumbling in his throat as he tore past
the nervously-watching silver-white.

“Grind their bones!” roared Abel as the
pack parted around him, with many wolves looking on with bleeding wounds and
heaving sides. “Leave nothing of them whole.” Then he turned his head briefly
to the crying she-wolf being attended by her father, now human, Doctor Wilson;
her awful cries were the only sound louder than his own voice. “Cats abound,”
Abel seethed with a shake of his head. “Children bleed. And where is my
brother?”

“Away,” answered Anthony. Though one of
the oldest wolves present, he kept his head lowered as Abel stepped by him.
Each male wolf did the same in the presence of the old giant.

Abel growled a deep laugh in response—but
far from a happy one. “Then let us do his work,” he said. “Those with heart to
fight,
follow
! The rest, scour this
ground. Leave nothing!”

At that he broke off into a thunderous run
toward the south. As he passed by Evie he locked eyes momentarily with the
young silver-white. Instinctually she cowered as he blew by in a rush with
several strong wolves running behind. Then, at her side, she sensed Erica
moving away. In a second she turned, warning, “No!”

The sleek black wolf whirled around and
snapped her jaws, growling deeply before turning again at a run toward the south.
Evie made no more sounds. After a quick, troubling glance toward her injured
friend, before any other wolf could stop her, she ran silently after her cousin.

-17-

Within a dozen strides into the dark woods
Evie got a firm hold on Erica’s tail. The young black wolf yelped, lost her
footing and, as Evie let go, fell into a rolling heap. When she stood again,
she was shaking with rage. The silver-white and the black circled, staring each
other down, exchanging warning snarls laced with angry words.

“Getting away!” Erica roared.

“Not our fight!” Evie replied.

“Coward!”

“Fool!”