by Maddy Barone
“Did you have the sheaths put in when you decided to come to Omaha?” she asked.
“No, all of my jeans are made with sheaths,” Rose said. “I always have a knife on me.”
“Me too,” Carla agreed. “Years ago, when I was injured during an attack on the den, Taye insisted that I learn how to fight. I am always armed, even when I’m at home in the den. All the women there are.”
Rose promised to help Gina rig a couple of her pants with the same sort of sheath. “We’ll have to get you a knife of your own. This is Sky’s back up. It will work for you for now, but you’ll want your own. Let’s practice holding the knife.”
The air was cool but after an hour Gina was sweating. Patia’s arrival gave her the excuse to take a much needed break.
“Oh, you’re sparring,” Patia said. “Good. I need the exercise.”
Rose shook her head. “No, we were showing Gina some basics, and now we’re breaking. Let’s do some easy stretches to cool down.”
The four women stood in a loose circle and began a series of stretches. Gina followed the others clumsily.
“What’s it like out there, Patia?” Carla asked.
Patia rolled her shoulders in large circles, almost like a shrug built into the stretching routine. “It’s quiet. Most of the City Guards and our men are on the walls, but there are pairs of men patrolling the streets too.”
“What about gunshots? Have there been more?” Rose wanted to know. “Are they actively fighting at the walls?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t hear anything, so maybe not.”
They were quiet while their stretches evolved into simply standing and breathing. Gina continued to mimic the other women. Their faces all looked serene, as if they didn’t have an attack to worry about. The thought of an attack made Gina’s stomach feel uneasy. Todd and his army had never failed. The revenge he’d take on Omaha would make other retaliation pale in comparison. None of the other cities had sheltered his runaway stepdaughter.
“Let’s sit for a minute,” Carla suggested.
A pair of benches faced each other close to the house, out of the breeze.
Patia sat beside Gina on one bench and smiled brightly at her. “So, Gina, how is the knife fighting going?”
Gina made a face. “I suck at it.”
“All of us sucked at first.” Rose laughed. “You’ll be able to defend yourself soon. You’ll never be completely vulnerable to an attacker again.”
Gina looked at the other women. “Have you ever had to kill anyone?” she asked.
Patia’s gaze slid to Rose and dropped. Carla studiously examined her fingernails. Rose smiled crookedly, her eyes seemingly fixed on something in the past.
“I have. Right here in Omaha.” She flicked a quick glance at Gina and away again. “They would have raped me and Katelyn, and probably killed us too. So, I had no choice.”
“Wow. That’s … That’s …”
“Horrible?” suggested Rose.
“No, awesome.” Gina looked down at her borrowed knife balanced on the brick wall. “That’s what I want to be able to do if anyone ever tries to kidnap me or attack me. I want to stab them in the heart and get away.”
Rose shook her head. “Stabbing the heart doesn’t really work. The breastbone is in the way, and it is too strong for most knives to get through. Better go for the throat or stomach.”
“The eyes are vulnerable too,” Patia said helpfully. “But you have to aim carefully. The knife might just glance off the forehead or cheekbones.”
Gina grinned. “Gruesome! Come on, let’s go again.”
Cole cast one last look around the moonlit river bank before turning and trotting back toward Omaha. He’d seen no men hiding, heard not a hint of trucks or other traffic, and hadn’t caught any unfamiliar scent carried on the night air. His patrol was over. With his paws heavy with mud and his legs coated with drying goop, all he wanted was to be clean so he could bask in his mate’s warmth.
He wished Todd would just turn his army around and go home. That wasn’t likely. The next best thing would be for him to just attack so this stupid little war could be ended. The initial attack this morning was only a feint, probably to test Omaha’s readiness. Well, they were ready. Ready to send Todd packing with his tail between his legs. Cole wanted to bring his sweet mate home to the den so they could start their life together, and he couldn’t do that until Todd was dealt with.
Cole approached the wall of Omaha, careful of where he placed his paws so as to not leave paw prints leading to the small back gate in Omaha’s wall. He quietly woofed to let his cousin Falling Star know he was ready to come back in, and the door opened just wide enough to let his furred body slip in.
Paint was there with Star. “Anything?” he asked. When Cole shook his wolf’s head, Paint nodded. “Go report to your dad and get home.”
Star shot him a sly grin. “You stink. Better wash before you wrap yourself around your mate.”
Cole wrinkled his nose in a snarl and ran down the street to the house designated as the eastern headquarters. He shifted to human at the steps of the building. It was one of those buildings from the Times Before that housed two families. One side was set up as the headquarters; the other was crammed with beds for the City Guard to sleep in when they weren’t on duty. Cole felt a tiny moment of regret for them. They would be away from the families for days at a time, but he got to return to the Limit where his mate awaited him.
Naked, he went into the HQ side and followed his ears to the room which must have been a dining room at one time. His dad was there with Captain Dean Erickson, leaning over a map spread out on the table. Two pimply teenagers were there too, both using so many words to give their report that Cole could barely make out what they were trying to say. The boys stopped, mouths hanging open, when they saw Cole come in. They appeared to be either horrified or fascinated by his nakedness.
“Wolf,” one mouthed to the other.
Cole resisted the urge to show them his teeth. He gave his report to Captain Erickson, describing where he had gone and what he’d seen in brief, concise statements. His dad nodded approvingly.
“You have eight hours down,” he told Cole. “Then get back here.” He cracked a shadow of a smile. “And try to spend some of those hours in sleep.”
Cole bounded up the back steps of The Limit and paused just outside the mudroom to shake his fur out before shifting back to man. He was cold and muddy, so a shower would be welcome, but as he padded inside, he caught the merest hint of his mate’s scent woven through a faint aroma of soap. She had been here a few hours ago, maybe mopping the floor he was dirtying with his muddy feet.
Footsteps sounded from the kitchen and a hand flicked the mudroom light on. The young woman screamed when she saw him and fled back to the kitchen. He glanced down at himself. Why would she scream? He wasn’t that dirty. Oh. Maybe it wasn’t the drying mud caking his legs that scared her. Where were the jeans he’d left here before he followed his father out?
More footsteps came, and he looked up to see his mother, sister, and Aunt Rose come in. The elderly woman who ran the house was right behind them. Ms. Mary’s silver eyebrows rose as she stared at him.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said mildly, and disappeared.
“Colby,” his mom said anxiously. “Is everything okay?”
He was about to reply when Ms. Mary came back, holding a towel.
“It’s a shame, really,” she said in her quavering old voice, “but I suppose you should cover up. I don’t know how I’ll ever fall asleep now, with my heart pounding like a teenager’s.” She turned her head to speak to someone behind her. “Such a handsome young man you have, dear Georgina.”
Gina passed through the opening the other women made for her. Ms. Mary handed her the towel with a wink. Gina’s cheeks flushed pink, but she was smiling. From the very first moment he’d seen her pouring hot chocolate in that coffee shop downtown, Cole had thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d
ever seen. Her face didn’t have the perfect lines of Mrs. Madison’s, and her body wasn’t the classic voluptuous hourglass like Aunt Amanda’s, but the color in her cheeks was enchanting, and the hint of a naughty smile on her lips as she came to him made him smile back.
Mine, said the wolf fiercely.
“Mine,” agreed the man happily.
Gina’s smile broadened as she handed him the towel. She poked her finger into the center of his breastbone. “Mine,” she said.
He wrapped the towel around his waist. “Yours,” he agreed, already planning what he would do to her upstairs. His mother’s Lupa voice made him reluctantly shelve those plans for the moment.
“Colby, what is happening out there?”
All the women hovering in the doorway between the kitchen and mudroom looked anxious. Aunt Rose shook her head. “Let’s go sit down in the dining room. It’s too cold out here.”
Cole sent Gina a quick glance. He wasn’t cold, but she might be. He followed the women into the dining room. He didn’t have much to report, so this wouldn’t take long. Then he would take his mate upstairs and keep her warm all night.
It didn’t take long to tell his mom and the other women that the Kansas-Missourians had withdrawn into their camp across the river and not done anything more than send out occasional patrols. So far no sign of their army had been seen on this side of the river. His dad was directing the Clan and Pack in working with Mayor McGrath and Captain Erickson to keep constant watch on the streets and walls of Omaha. They were making hourly patrols in wolf form outside the wall to be sure the city wouldn’t be surprised by an attack.
"Do you think parading in and out is a good idea?" his mother asked. "Todd and his gang have to be watching. What if they come charging in while the gate is open?"
"There are four small gates hidden. We use those to go out on patrols.”
His mother's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Oh, right. I'm sure your father has those little gates guarded.”
"Every second," he assured her. "And we only go in and out when it's dark so the enemy won't see us. So far, we've seen nothing.”
“I wonder what he’s waiting for?” Gina said, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold.
Cole tightened his arm around her waist. “I don’t know. But it will be okay. We won’t let him win.”
Gina didn’t quite look convinced. “Yeah, I know you won’t let him win.”
In spite of her words, she didn’t quite sound convinced either. Cole would fix that. He gave her a gentle tug to the stairs that led to their room. “Good night, Mom.”
“Take a shower,” his mother ordered.
He looked down at Gina with a smile. “Wanna wash my back?”
He heard his mother sigh and Ms. Mary titter. “Newlyweds,” the old lady said happily. “So sweet!”
****
An hour later, his mate sprawled, sated, by his side. Her finger drew light circles over his pectoral just below where her cheek lay against him. He was a happy man, relaxed in the dark with the scent of his mate and their loving all around him.
“Cole?”
He opened his eyes with a sleepy smile. He didn’t like his name, but it was fine coming from her. “Hmm?”
“I’m learning how to kill a man with a knife.”
He brushed his lips over her forehead. “That’s wonderful, honey.”
She snorted a laugh. “I can’t think of another man who would say that.”
“Every man in the Clan and Pack would say that.”
She chortled again and then sobered. Her hand stopped doodling and pressed flat against him. “How long can we hold out if he never attacks? I mean, how are we for food and water?”
Cole turned her face up and kissed her lips. “We’re fine. McGrath thought of that months ago when Todd sent his first message to Omaha. He’s been saving food and water ever since.”
“That’s good.”
There was relief in her voice, so he didn’t tell her that Todd’s threats hadn’t come until February, when a lot of the winter stores had already been used up. No longer relaxed, he held his sleeping mate and stared up into the dark and tried to figure out just how long Omaha’s food and water could be made to last.
Chapter Eleven
The lieutenant in charge at Headquarters looked up from the papers he was reading when Cole came in. “Morning. You’re just in time to join the foot patrol. Bob? Here’s your partner for the morning, Cole Wolfe. Wolfe, this is Sergeant Anderson.”
“Morning, Wolfe.” Sergeant Bob Anderson held out a leathery hand to shake. “Let’s get going.”
Anderson was a lanky forty-year-old who knew the city streets well. Cole, being a stranger to the city, let him lead. The Omaha native was friendly and unflappable. Cole was no coward, but when they found two women involved in a hair pulling girl fight in front of the building that held the food stores, he hung back. Two men fighting? That he could handle. Bash their heads together. Grab one by the neck and toss him into the street and give the other a kick in the pants. But ladies? He let Anderson handle it.
“Mrs. Morton, you get up off the street. Shame on you. Both of you,” Anderson said firmly. “Mrs. Brockmeier, what is all this about?”
Each of the women accused the other of taking more than her fair share of flour. Bob settled that decisively and calmly, and soon both women left, shooting dirty looks at each other but not speaking. Cole watched with awe.
“How did you do that?” he asked as they began walking their patrol again.
“Shoot. I’ve been a Guardsman for twenty years. Everybody knows me well enough to know I won’t let them get away with anything.”
It seemed to be true. There weren’t many people on the streets, but everyone they saw greeted the Sergeant by name and with respect. His own respect for the older man grew as their patrol went on.
“So,” Anderson said when they turned to head back to headquarters, “I hear tell your daddy sent for reinforcements. When do you figure they’ll be here?”
Cole calculated. “Maybe tomorrow.” The wolves would come first. Then the men from Kearney would come, but they wouldn’t be able to move as fast as the wolf warriors. “Some tomorrow. More in a few days.”
Anderson nodded, a little grim. “We could use the help, and the sooner the better.”
After their four-hour street patrol, they returned to headquarters for lunch and rest. Captain Erickson took the concise report Anderson made and dismissed them to the day room. Half a dozen men were already there, nursing tin cups of coffee and playing cards. The men nodded at Anderson. “Sandwich fixings in the fridge,” one said.
Cole followed Bob to the fridge. The coffee smelled awful, but not as bad as the sour stench of unwashed men. Being here with these stinky men instead of with his mate made his wolf unhappy.
“Hey, Sarge,” called another of the men, whose teeth were crooked. “Who’s your new friend?”
Anderson didn’t look up from spreading mustard over his bread. “Cole Wolfe from Kearney. Why don’t you boys introduce yourselves?”
None of the men did. The man with crooked teeth leered. “Aw, it’s the bridegroom. He got to go home last night and play kissy-face with the little woman.”
Cole’s wolf came to sharp alert. When the man made loud kissing noises, the wolf lunged at the cage that held him in Cole’s mind, trying to break free. Cole’s nostrils flared.
“Was it fun, lover boy? Did your bride spread her pretty--”
Cole’s vision shimmered with gold and red, his wolf pushing free.
“Colby.”
His father’s voice, heavy with Alpha authority, stopped the wolf. The red and gold shimmer died as the wolf slunk back to the cage, lips peeled back in a snarl. Cole took one breath through clenched teeth and forced himself to relax.
“You will not kill this man.”
It was a struggle, but Cole made himself tilt his head to the side in submission.
Taye Wolfe sauntered to
Crooked and Green, his face set in a cold expression he never directed at anyone in his Pack. His voice dropped to a low, lethal growl. “Do not ever speak of my daughter again.”
The man couldn’t seem to hold the Alpha’s gaze, he swallowed and looked down at the table. “Didn’t mean nothing. Just a little friendly joshing.”
The Alpha of the Pack stared down at the man. “The only reason you’re alive is because Omaha needs every fighter it can muster.”
The man wilted when Taye turned his attention back to Cole. “Have something to eat and then get some sleep. You go outside the gate again tonight to patrol.”
****
It was wet tonight, thought Cole, trotting along the river bank on his patrol. It wasn’t quite rain, but it was more than fog, and his fur was heavy with moisture. It was almost cold enough to snow. It was a heavy, wet cold that he didn’t like. He loved to romp in the snow, but this wet cold was no good. It muffled his sense of smell and deadened his hearing.
Romping in the snow with his mate would be fun. They probably wouldn’t get any more snow this year, but next year… He had plans for next year. Maybe by then she would be heavy with his child. That thought warmed him in spite of the cold. He remembered the warmth of his mate lying beside him in bed. In his mind he lovingly savored the press of the curve of her breast against his. Would his father allow him to go back to the Limit again tonight? He hoped so. He wanted to—
Pain stabbed through his neck, rocking him sideways. His wolf yelped. What was it? It was too fiery and deep to be a thorn. It was… Out of the corner of his eye he saw the end of an arrow. A strange arrow, too little to fly far. The sound of footsteps, muffled by the cold, came to him. He tried to run away, but his legs didn’t work right. Panic seared his belly. This was like... Like on the train. He remembered the train. Vaguely. Something about the train... He groped at the memory, but he couldn’t catch it. It was important, wasn’t it?
