Falling Silver (Rising Bloodlines Book 1)
Page 6
The kitchen door opened quietly, and they all stood up straight. Simon was there in the half-light, casting an odd shadow over the table. “Karina,” he held his hand out and spoke softly, “I need to see you right away.” He nodded to the Whiteheads, tossed his dry jacket over Karina’s head and shoulders, and spirited her out into the rain.
Adam spotted them from the window. Oh, I will leave you alone, then. Turning away coldly, he began forming his next moves. If you happen to see the news tomorrow, you will be surprised at first, and then relieved. But I will come for you anyway, and then you will find out what alone feels like.
Lara stared at the closing kitchen door. “Should we …?”
“I don’t think so.” Rob took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. “No. No, she’ll be all right. Let’s just go.”
Many minutes passed while the Whiteheads remained silent. Something about the appearance of desRosiers that morning was nearly as terrifying as the apparition of the previous night.
The Creek Run — Werewolves Attack Pigeon Creek
Artist Redfeather Disappears
Pigeon Creek — The community suffered terrible losses this week under the apparent attack of at least two werewolves, possibly three.
First came the horrific murders of our beloved Diner Ladies, Janine and Shari. They were brutally assaulted and dismembered the night that the rest of the community was assembled at the property of artist Karina Redfeather, whose property had just been through the Silverize™ process. No witnesses have come forward related to these murders.
Last night, in what seems to have been a coordinated attack by the creatures, Acting Sheriff William J. Moore and Hunter team member Travis Figueroa were killed at the home of Redfeather, who seems to have disappeared early today, after these most recent murders. She was last seen in the company of Simon desRosiers, her cousin and tenant.
Adam Hunter, founder of the Hunters group and heir to the Silverize™ and Vortex Oil fortunes, spoke with the Creek Run early this morning. He and surviving associate Reese McConnell wore black ribbons across their silver patches.
“We are deeply saddened by both the loss of our teammate Travis Figueroa and the death of Deputy Moore,” Hunter stated. “We are now working with authorities to locate Miss Karina Redfeather. She was taken from her home this morning allegedly by Simon desRosiers, who is currently a prime suspect in the murders of this week. Our objective is to bring home Miss Redfeather before tonight’s full moon.”
Accounts of the events differ. Mr. and Mrs. Tony Fredericks, visiting from Duluth for a getaway, insist that one of the werewolves was in fact Mr. desRosiers, a claim disputed by Rob Whitehead, who was also present during the attacks and who also says that Redfeather left of her own accord with desRosiers. Adam Hunter will neither confirm nor deny this rumor, stating only that his team is now working to find both Redfeather and desRosiers.
Meanwhile, Sheriff Langston remains under observation at Red River Hospital and is not expected to return to duty any time soon.
Weremen
Simon wasn’t himself yet.
He’d taken Karina’s hand, though he was distracted and distant, and with a start she felt the faint traces of hair on his palm. He didn’t meet her eyes, instead pulling her across the wooded property to the guest house. Karina struggled to match his pace.
“Could you slow down a little? I feel as if I’m being kidnapped.”
That drew a look, and sure enough, he wasn’t fully back yet. How strongly was the presence of Vertigo affecting him? And Old Jake, what effect would his bitewolf, Vertigo, have on him if he were around? Heaven help Jake and anyone who got near him.
The early morning was silent except for their footsteps as Simon half-dragged her onto the porch and through the guest house door.
“You can let go now, Simon.” Karina stated as they entered the chilly living room, her hand still in his grip. “Simon.”
“Simon!”
He turned and bathed her in a wide-eyed stare that took her breath away. Third time, indeed. Karina shivered a little. “Won’t the Hunters be coming for us?”
“Probably. They must know where you are, but last night we left them …” Simon paused to gauge how squeamish she might be after the previous night, “… we left them a good long trail of half-eaten deer leading north and into the deep brush, so they’ll follow that first. We have a little time, but not enough to relax.” His voice was still husky. “The others will be here soon. Greg and the rest, I mean.”
He bent to start a fire in the wood stove and waited silently until the flames took hold. “We’ll be out of your hair before Adam and his goons come knocking on the door. Don’t answer it and you won’t be able to tell them anything.”
Karina sank into an armchair, kicking off her wet shoes, tucking her feet under herself and hugging a large cushion, worried at these latest developments. Eventually, she forced a laugh. “All right, so I’ve been kidnapped into my own guest house. Why? To feed me to our scary friends when they get here?”
Simon sat down on a bench next to the crackling stove, ignoring her jest. “There’s more that you need to know. For a start, this is where Greg and everybody else will be staying this week.”
“Everybody? Wait, who’s ‘everybody’?”
“Things are moving quickly. More of us are coming.”
“Things? What things? And who is everyone that’s staying here?” Karina looked around the small but well-furnished room.
“When Greg gets in we’ll talk. ‘Everyone’ is our guys, for the moment anyway.” Simon pulled a soft throw blanket from behind him and stepped over to place it around Karina’s shoulders. She drew in the warmth he had lent it.
Simon was pacing now. “As soon as I knew Vertigo was around, and I knew you wouldn’t leave, I called a meeting of the pack, right here. We all agreed I ought to bring you here for a chat because there are things you need to know.”
He spoke with a little less gentleness than was his habit. “I wanted to keep you away from your guests, all of them. It’ll be a little while before the Hunters wake up and come over here. Stay out of sight. Then—”
Suddenly she sprang from the couch, propelling herself into his arms, and he breathed her in as she clung to him, shaking. Sometimes she smelled the way she did when she was just a child.
“Bill; and that Hunter,” was all she could manage.
“I know. Shhhh. Shhhhh,” he held her loosely, wondering where to begin what he had to say next. Instead, he reminded her that they’d be meeting up with Gregory, Old Jake and the others any minute. “We don’t have a lot of time before they get here. I’ve pepper sprayed the grounds, here and at the main house,” he continued. “The gang is not too far away. I’ve got the kitchen stocked for them so if you want to grab a shower while I get breakfast ready, go ahead. Oh, and yesterday I raided your closet and packed you a bag with fresh clothes and everything in case we really do need to get you out of here. It’s in the bedroom.”
Karina tried to penetrate Simon’s thoughts. She shook her head slowly and pulled away. “I blew it. I called your name last night. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze but ignored her apology. “You’ll be shaky for a while. You understand now why I said to stay put? It doesn’t matter that I didn’t hurt you last night. Tonight is Apex and you must stay still and quiet right here inside the guest house, not at home. I don’t want you leaving here. There’s a whole gang of us around, with more coming who don’t know you, or your scent, at all. And Vertigo wants you.”
“I hate to ask this, I really do. But if it’s such a problem, shouldn’t I be safer inside my own house with the goon squad that’s taken over my porch? And with that Silverized thing all over it?”
Simon shook his head. “I’ve actually pepper sprayed all over this place, and Silverized the bedroom section, which is where you are going to stay hidden. Vertigo thinks you’re in the main house, but Greg and I will guard this p
lace; and the others are going to try and lead the Hunters off the grounds tonight.”
“The Hunters are a man down, though, Simon. Will they really follow the others? Won’t they just stay at the house?”
“I don’t know, but that’s not the critical part. Just remember that none of the other wolves except Vertigo will come after anyone inside a house, unless that person is attracting attention.
“Vertigo’s the only one who would go after static prey, and right now, for him, that’s you. He knows that your place is Silverized, but he’s had time to plan now. He could probably still make a run for you now that he’s seen inside and has a feel for where the threads are. So stay put here. If he comes, and I doubt he will, he’ll likely get himself immolated.” He continued sharply, “And besides, I don’t like the idea of Adam Hunter using you as bait.”
“And that’s not what you’re doing? I can’t tell what you’re up to. You look like a — like some kind of lunatic.”
“You’ve seen me look worse.” Simon took a few paces around the room and stopped at the window, facing the rising sun. “How’s your new project going?”
“The hanging scroll mural? It’s all right, I suppose. I don’t know; I don’t really feel it as much. It’s … something about the fact that it’s just supposed to hang there. I like working on solid things.”
Simon nodded, and when he turned to her, the blue rings had gone completely. He spoke gently now. “Maybe you need things in your life to be a bit more stable.”
Karina wanted to argue but was too tired. She headed instead for the shower, but even after twenty minutes, she couldn’t wash the night off. She brushed her teeth but ended up retching into the sink and had to start over. Too exhausted for a private, cleansing cry, she disappeared into the bedroom to curl up and think. She’d wrapped herself in one of Simon’s sweaters when she heard Greg’s quiet arrival and caught fragments of a low conversation that included phrases like “taking a nap,” “How did you convince her,” and “They’re all coming. Already. It’ll be big,” before the voices dropped to an inaudible range.
In the kitchen, the two men were preparing a vat of chili to ward off the coming night’s ravenous appetites.
“Not too many beans, there, Simon; nothing worse than a flatulent werewolf,” Karina heard Greg’s warning jest, and Simon chuckled in spite of himself. “Aroooooothhhhpptttt,” followed by laughter was the last thing Karina heard before burrowing into the pillow in disgust, and finally drifting into a fitful doze.
Greg, meanwhile, broke into a more serious vein. “She would be a lot safer at the main house, you know.”
“He can’t trace her here.”
“Who? Vertigo or Adam?”
“Both,” Simon viciously decapitated an onion.
One by one, the others arrived and gathered in the small kitchen, some of them observing the scent of pepper spray. “Some of it must have leaked,” agreed Simon. “It doesn’t take much. I can’t scent any of you, either. Burns like blazes.”
Gregory produced a small bottle of hot sauce for his sizeable meal, “But never enough,” he grinned, “never enough.”
After a while, Karina reappeared, fresh and lovely as if this were an ordinary getaway, and was introduced to the group. Tyler was fairly new; he was a forestry student who had run into wolf trouble six months before and was still acclimating to it all. Karina hugged the delighted Old Jake, and was introduced to Carl.
“By any chance, are you Carl Whitehead?” asked Karina, and Carl nodded. “I think I might know your family.”
“You do, yes. I like to stick within a couple of hundred miles and keep an eye on them and see who’s around,” Carl said shyly. “Or I stay even closer, sometimes. You never really know what’s out there.”
“Which seems to be the prevailing feeling,” observed Karina.
“Well,” Carl could hardly look at Simon, “if things can happen to guys like me, or like Simon ...”
“Carl was my bitewolf more than seventy years ago, and he’s not over it yet,” laughed Simon.
“I’m just so sorry,” Carl offered quietly. “Simon was there changing a tire on the road, and I was just a new guy. And …”
Gregory finished, “And he looked so tasteeeeeeeeeeee.”
The entire group erupted in laughter, and that was a good thing for all around. It was a relief for Karina and Simon, a bonding moment for the wolf-men, and the very cloak needed for a shabby russett mess to detach himself from the guest house roof and skulk off into the woods.
Apex
Simon stopped just short of tucking her in just before sunset. “If you don’t leave me alone soon I’ll bite you, and heaven knows what you’ll turn into tonight,” Karina teased, “skipping through the woods every month with ribbons in your hair, wielding paintbrushes and a teddy bear.” He’d checked the blackout curtains for shards of light. The bed took up most of the small room, and he cautioned her to stay on the inner edge, away from the Silverized window.
“Go,” she prompted gently, noting the early onset of the blue rings. Simon pressed his forehead to hers, inhaling deeply, and left.
There was only silence outside, and the hours dragged on. Karina was dozing off lightly by midnight, but her tumbling thoughts had drifted into a nightmare that was intensifying. She was home but not home, Simon had gone, and the whole cottage was sparkling in a spider web full of flaming, shrieking werewolves. She kept running from room to room, window to window, calling their names, trying to save them all and unable to stop each tortured demise. Then she heard it, the snuffling, scratching noise just outside the window, and a howl just inches from her left ear.
Another shriek, and a wet claw smashing through the bedroom’s tiny window brought her fully awake. Golden-yellow death with five spiked claws dripping saliva searched the mattress, trying to scratch her, to turn her shape.
Karina spent three or four seconds scrambling out of the way, unable to vocalize, looking for a place to hide, until it became clear that this beast had been unaffected by the Silverizing and was going to get in.
She screamed, an unbidden primal sound that echoed through the woods, and she didn’t care if it brought Adam Hunter. This was not Old Jake, it couldn’t be; the group surely had him well under control deep in the forest.
Her next shriek was as wild as the wet claws that snatched at her and barely missed. It was coming in.
Karina wished for anything silver, anything to throw at this raging beast. Was it one of Simon’s friends, or was it Vertigo? How had he found her? In the next second the bedraggled, hairy clawed arm was retracted and a hellish ruckus began outside as other wolves howled in.
She was gasping and couldn’t stop, yet her mind began to settle.
Suddenly, with the eerie clarity of the mortally threatened, she was calm, and crouching on the floor by the side of the mattress, stared at the vicious scene through the shattered glass.
Though it was difficult to see it all, nothing could prepare any human for what was outside. Old Jake was indeed there, manic, foaming, snapping at Vertigo’s tail with his monthly set of fresh fangs. It was either Simon or Carl who stood tall, long arms raised, waiting for the instant to strike and howling like a banshee. A smaller black wolf, Tyler most likely, circled the pack. Greg, the huge brown Earthwolf, was now engaging Vertigo face to face, snarl for snarl, in an earsplitting shriek battle, each lunging for the other’s throat.
Where was the other black wolf? Where were the Hunters? How could they not hear? Was Simon still there? And in tune with that last thought, the black brush outside the window moved. There was an eye in it. The blue-ringed eye engaged Karina’s and narrowed. She didn’t even hear the snarl, but recoiled and dived under the bed, praying he hadn’t seen the movement, trying to buy time. Oh, don’t let him try to get in — he’ll be immolated.
The battle raged on, though nothing was trying to get inside now. She spent a heart-pounding few seconds coming to terms with her situation – oh God, please
, what if one was already inside through the living room? They’d touch the bedroom door, they’d be destroyed. Names, quick, remember the names, but it was pitch dark and how would she know them only by their glowing eyes?
It didn’t seem close to sunup. Where were the Hunters, she thought with a cramp of guilt.
The screams and howls of the wolves must be audible for miles. There was no way she would risk another peek out the window; even Simon would find his rage toward her unchained this night.
There was a lull in the noise. Karina hardly breathed as she moved out from under the bed and pressed her ear against the bedroom door. What if one had got in? Would she be able to hear it?
Suddenly, again the screams outside were overwhelming. It was impossible to think that one Firewolf could hold off so many others, but Vertigo must indeed be supernaturally powerful, and thoroughly demented. From time to time, horrific sounds indicated possible wounds.
The night would not end.
A final long, high-pitched shriek and it all suddenly stopped. Karina’s ears rang.
Then the growls picked up, low and slow and long. They came closer to the guest house, closer, and Karina wished with a sickly giggle that she had some pepper spray. Adam Hunter’s words haunted her, “This is who he really is.”
Was the dawn coming?
She heard the click of the front door. Oh my god, they were in. Karina sank to the floor, back against the bedroom door, and waited for death – her own or that of an immolated wolf or two. She rested her head on her knees. She could save the first one, whoever he was, and be turned with a bite, just by opening the door so he wouldn’t touch it. Although, then they might both be immolated, or the whole pack might kill her. She couldn’t think straight, and something dragged closer, closer. It stopped short of the Silverized door. There was a faint light in the room. The sound was strange, now, a huffing, painful one. It moaned, and the floor shuddered, and shuddered again. A half-howling groan, and the whole nightmare stopped.