Touch of Madness

by C. T. Adams

  He had a point. I didn’t like it, but there was a good chance I’d be hurt. Hell, Carlton and the queens thought I’d be killed. Having Dusty as a back-up driver could make the difference between life and death for me, Tom, or Rob. It made perfect sense, but that didn’t make me like it any better. “Fine.” I didn’t sound gracious, but none of them expected it. “Just as long as Dusty agrees to stay in the car, no matter what.”

  “Agreed.” Tom and Rob said it in unison. Dusty didn’t respond. She was already climbing into the back seat of the sedan. I noticed, but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t stupid. I knew she understood why we might need her as a driver. I was hoping it was incentive enough to keep her in the car and out of trouble.

  Our first stop was the car rental lot. I’d called ahead to arrange an exchange. Since we were going up to the mountains I wanted a four wheel drive vehicle. We might not need it, but I wanted to be prepared.

  It was a good thing I’d called ahead. We got the last SUV on the lot, a red Jeep Grand Cherokee. It was roomy, with a luxurious leather interior, and heating and cooling zones. We’d be driving into the trap in comfort and style.

  According to the map and directions in the envelope, the drive to meet with Amanda would take approximately three hours and four minutes. The destination was halfway between the towns of Grizzly and Bear Creek. Most of the trip would be spent on I-70. Tom and I had spent a fair amount of time this morning looking for another route, but there just wasn’t one. There simply aren’t that many roads through the mountains. The terrain is too rough. The road is an intruder, a thin ribbon of pavement carved onto the edge of steep cliffs of tan stone. At any time the mountain may hurl a boulder downward, smashing its way through everything in its path. The signs say “Watch for Falling Rock,” but the boulders themselves, wedged deep into the pavement of the road’s shoulder, are a better warning. Nor is it the only danger, there are hairpin turns. The runaway truck ramps bear witness to how easy it is for the driver of a semi or heavy truck to lose control of a vehicle in the mountains. The first ramp we passed already had a tanker buried in snow and sand. The truck had been going fast enough that momentum had carried it more than halfway up the steep incline before the loose sand beneath the tires slowed it to a stop.

  Still, dangerous as it is, there are the morons who insist on driving twenty to thirty miles over the speed limit, and the others whose vehicles chug along in the slow lane, barely able to make the climb at all.

  I wasn’t thrilled that we were driving into a trap with my enemy knowing exactly how we were coming in, but I just didn’t see any way around it. Amanda didn’t know I was bringing reinforcements. I didn’t know if she knew about Tom or not, but Rob and Dusty coming along was not something she would anticipate, and Carlton was trailing along behind in his Hummer.

  Of course, I wouldn’t want to bet on the vampire actually doing anything to help. The hive would probably be more than happy to see me dead, and he’d already referred to himself as the “cleanup crew.”

  We’d left early enough to arrive in full daylight, on a clear, bright day. Whether sunlight bothered Amanda in her current state I didn’t know, but I’d take any possible advantage. Besides, in daylight I, at least, would be able to see what the hell I was doing.

  It was a long, tense drive. I could hear Rob and Dusty whispering in the back seat from time to time, but other than that, we traveled in silence. Tom alternately stared out the window at the passing scenery, or into the rearview mirror at Carlton.

  Traffic was heavy. It hadn’t occurred to me that it would be, but it should’ve. The Rocky Mountains have some of the best skiing in the world, and from Denver you have to take 1-70 most of the way up to get to the resorts.

  Things were at a dead standstill going into the Eisenhower Tunnel. I waited impatiently, my eyes straying to the left to watch the colorful chair lifts of Loveland Ski Resort making their way up the snow-covered mountain.

  “I have an idea.” Rob’s voice interrupted my musings. He spoke softly, as if he wasn’t sure how I’d react. It made me wonder just how much of a bitch I’d been recently. I didn’t like thinking that way, but it was probably the truth. I was gearing up for a battle, and it probably showed.

  Tom turned, looking over the top of the front seat. I met Rob’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “What?”

  “Amanda knew you when. She’s going to expect you to come riding in like the Lone Ranger. So why don’t we show her just that?”

  I thought about that. It actually wasn’t such a bad suggestion.

  “Go on.” Tom’s voice was likewise thoughtful.

  Rob, his eyes on Tom, cleared his throat and continued with more confidence. “There’s only one road out to this place, but if you and I go in wolf form, we don’t have to use the highway. We can go cross-country and have the element of surprise. Hell, the adrenaline in this car is thick enough to walk on. It’s all we can do to hold in the beasts. So we don’t. We use our wolves.”

  “I thought you couldn’t think clearly in animal form?” I phrased the question carefully. I didn’t want to insult him, but Tom’s ability to keep his human mind when he shifted was, from what everyone told me, a very rare talent. Call me selfish, but I didn’t want my back-up to run off on the trail of some elk. It was perverse of me. I’d argued against Rob and Dusty coming along, and now I didn’t want him to go. “And what about Dusty?”

  She spoke softly, but there was pride in her voice. “Rob’s been practicing with Tom. He’s getting really good at controlling his wolf and keeping his identity.” She continued. “I’ll hide on the floor of the back seat. If things go bad, I can drive to the rescue.”

  “Not if, when,” I said.

  “You don’t know that.” Her eyes flashed when she said it, as though she was insulted that I thought the wolves couldn’t take Amanda.

  Tom looked at me for a long moment. I think he saw something in the way I held myself, or maybe scented something coming off my body. “Yeah, she does.”

  I didn’t know, not exactly. There was nothing specific about the premonition. But I had a feeling, the kind of feeling that generally means there’s going to be trouble. “Dusty, I know Amanda is your aunt, but I’m not really certain you understand just what she’s become. Hell, even I’m not sure what she’s become.”

  Rob nodded and touched Dusty’s arm. “I didn’t let you see the sidewalk until after I cleaned it up, honey. But there’s no way she should have survived that fall.”

  “I know that!” she protested. “But it’s a really good idea!” Her voice sounded huffy, like she felt insulted on behalf of the wolves.

  “Which is why we’re going to do it.” I smiled and tried to put some enthusiasm into the words. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the cars ahead of me moving a few feet forward. I put the Jeep in gear and followed them.

  Dusty settled back against her seat. She was smiling, still tense, but better. Looking at her in the rearview mirror, it hit me again just how young she was. She’d opened her ski jacket in the warmth. Underneath was a tight black top with a plunging neckline made all the more impressive by lavender lacings that pulled together the front until her breasts were prominent enough to put your eyes out. She’d matched her belt to the ties in her blouse. I watched her strip off the mittens and hat until I could see her hair. It was styled in dark purple dreadlocks. Her makeup was perfectly applied until she was the absolute picture of goth beauty. She’d had some hard times, but her brush with death and her new role in the wolf pack hadn’t changed her basic nature. She was still a kid inside, a kid who very much wanted the grown-ups to take her seriously.

  Rob was nearly the same age chronologically, but experience had toughened him. There was a shadow in his eyes that never quite went away. Back in July when Tom had been kidnapped and I was infested by the Thrall queen, it had been Rob who offered to rip off the infested arm if that’s what it took to save me. If push came to shove, he’d do whatever it took. He caught my eyes i
n the mirror and gave me a nod of acknowledgement. It was almost as if he could read my mind. Hell, maybe he could. Or maybe I’m not all that subtle. Nah, couldn’t be.

  It only seemed to take forever to get through the tunnel. Once we were on the other side, traffic loosened up a little. After a quick drive through at a fast food restaurant in Frisco we were back on our way.

  Some time during the traffic jam, or maybe during the stop for food, we lost Carlton. I wasn’t sure what I thought of that. Of course I was pretty sure that, like the proverbial bad penny, he’d turn back up.

  Eating seemed to improve everybody’s mood. We joked a little, argued about music, politics, and recent movies. Rob and Dusty were big fans of the horror genre: Friday the 13th, The Ring, Dawn of the Dead, Nightmare on Elm Street. My life is way too much of a horror movie for me to enjoy watching them on the screen. I’m not a big fan of epic dramas either. Give me a good car chase and then blow something up. I love the smartassed banter in a good action Sick—it’s pure dumb fun. If the reviewers say something is moving, or intelligent, I’ll stay home and read a good book. I’m plebian to the core and make no apologies for it.

  Tom was arguing the relative merits of the various slasher movie villains when we passed the exit for Grizzly. I slowed, pulling off at the next wide spot in the road.

  Silence descended instantly. There was only the crunch of gravel, and the sharp intake of breath. “This is it.” The words sounded harsh, even to my own ears.

  “Right.” Rob leaned over and kissed Dusty. Then he started stripping. I glanced away, trying to give him a little privacy, and caught Tom’s eye.

  My heart lurched painfully in my chest. This was it. We were headed into a situation where one of us might not make it out. I wished he weren’t here, and at the same time wouldn’t have wished him anywhere else.

  “I hate this.” He breathed the words so softly I could barely hear them.

  “Me too.”

  “I love you, Katie, and I want you safe.”

  I agreed with him wholeheartedly. I wanted us all safe. There were so many things I wanted to say, and no time or privacy to say them. So I unfastened my seatbelt and leaned across the seat, using a kiss to show him all the things I couldn’t find the words for.

  It was everything a kiss should be, warm, deep, passionate. Tears filled my eyes and threatened to spill when he pulled back, and I buried my face against his neck and fought for self-control. I was moving awkwardly from the neck brace hidden beneath my clothing, but I didn’t care. For just this one moment I needed to be like this, curled against the man I … loved. Yes, really truly loved. There was no denying it now, and here was yet another opportunity to lose him forever. He ran his hands over my braid and I took a shaking breath.

  Rob let out a soft cough. I pulled reluctantly away.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “But we lost hours in that traffic jam. We’re running out of daylight.”

  “No. You’re right.” Tom picked the envelope up off of the seat and pulled out the papers to take one last look at the directions. He dropped the pages onto the seat and started pulling off his clothes. “We need to get moving.”

  I stared out the driver’s side window of the Jeep. For probably the first time I really didn’t want to see Tom undressed. I heard the passenger door open a second before I felt the shiver of power down my spine that told me they were shifting. I heard the back door open, then slam shut just before there was a thud of paws impacting against the door. I turned to see the two of them bounding away.

  “Tom!” He paused on top a half-buried boulder, turning his head toward me. I shouted, “I love you!” He wagged his tail vigorously and gave a sharp bark. Then he jumped from his perch and was gone.

  I took a ragged breath and reached over to close the car door. Dusty was staring at me, her eyes a little too wide.

  “What?” I hadn’t meant to sound so angry.

  “It’s not important.” She swallowed audibly, then tore her eyes away from me. She unfastened her seatbelt and turned to lie down across the back seat. “I’m going to pull Rob’s coat over me to hide.”

  “Good.”

  I refastened my seat belt, checked the mirror, and strapped myself in. Okay, Just Do It. After checking for traffic I pulled back onto 1-70.

  The turnoff for the private road I was supposed to take was four miles away. It was narrow, rutted, and so well hidden that I nearly missed it. I hit the brakes hard enough to send Dusty rolling off the seat. She let out a grunt of displeasure that turned into vigorous swearing as the Jeep jerked and jolted over the rutted gravel surface of what could only loosely be termed a “road.” The snow was knee deep in spots shaded by the thick cover of pine boughs. Where the sun shone through, the snow had melted, forming a slimy mud that threatened to swallow the tires. I fought to maintain control of the vehicle, clenching my jaw shut to keep from accidentally biting my tongue.

  I forced the Jeep around a sharp turn. Up ahead, there was a wide clear area and the burnt-out husk of what had once been a cabin.

  As I pulled to a stop Amanda rose from her seat on the stone steps leading up the ruin. As if her movement were a signal, five ATV’s swarmed in from various points around the clearing. Each vehicle carried two teenagers. None of them looked old enough to be out of high school. They pulled to a stop, forming a loose circle around Amanda, the cabin, and the Jeep. Like Amanda they all wore black hooded sweatshirts. Each shirt had the logo of Share the Planet emblazoned on the chest.

  The odds sucked: even if Tom and Rob did arrive in time, we were outnumbered. I checked my knives, said a quick prayer, and climbed from the vehicle, leaving the keys in the ignition.

  “Hello, Katie.” Amanda took two steps forward and I noticed that her left leg was dragging. Her voice sounded different … odd, and the left side of her face didn’t move in time with the right, as though she’d had a stroke, or something had broken and not healed properly.

  “Amanda.”

  “You came alone.”

  I decided to bluff. It couldn’t hurt and it might buy me time. “Your message wasn’t specific, but I got the impression you were issuing a personal challenge. You don’t want witnesses for that sort of thing.” Not the truth, but not an outright lie either. She wasn’t a queen, wasn’t Not Prey. But she wasn’t a human anymore either. It was revealed in the power that practically shimmered around her. It smashed against my shields, like a tide against a levee, as she looked for a vulnerability.

  The shields held, and she snarled a curse. All around me people hissed. It was not a human sound. I looked around and I caught a glimpse of sharp fangs in each face. My throat tightened with fear as I realized exactly what she’d done with the eggs.

  Apparently I didn’t hide it well enough, because she laughed, a wild, hysterical burst of sound, harsh as nails on a blackboard. Her power surged, and I ground my teeth, rather than cry out from the pain.

  “You killed my husband,” Amanda accused. “You killed my queen, and my people.” Her hands tightened into fists, her face contorting into an ugly mask of rage. “You murdered ninety-nine innocent babies!” She roared the last. If her goal was to work the others into a frenzied mob it was working. They were shouting and waving their fists as they poured off of the machines. “You don’t deserve a ‘challenge.’ You don’t deserve to live.” She smiled a satisfied little smirk without warmth or humor. “Thank you for being so honest and … predictable by coming alone. Because now you’re going to die.”

  The vampires surged forward.

  15

  The engine of the Jeep roared to life. The machine surged forward, slamming into a crowd of vampires on my left at the same moment Tom and Rob leaped out from the cover of the trees, diving into the group on my right. There were screams of pain, and blood everywhere. My world narrowed to the two vampires who had escaped being mowed down by Dusty. One was tall, the other short, but they both had the build of football players and acted as though they were used to working
together. The good news, they didn’t know how to fight. I train, I practice, and I’d been in more than one situation where my skills were all that stood between me and an untimely death. I was holding them off without too much trouble, landing the occasional good blow and parrying their attacks.

  I heard a wolf’s howl of pain, and instinctively started to turn. The tall one thought it was an opening and lunged forward. I ducked under his roundhouse swing and was able to drive my elbow into his kidney that dropped him to his knees. I was turning, ready to use the knife to finish him when shorty stepped up, swinging a length of tree limb at my head.

  I turned, and ducked my head, taking the blow across my shoulders. There was enough power behind the blow to break the wood, but the neck shield did me proud. It absorbed most of the force. The edge of the fiberglass dug into my skin, cutting me, but my spine wasn’t shattered, and I could still fight.

  I gave a hard side kick to the outside of shorty’s left knee. He gave a hideous, high-pitched squeal as the joint gave way and he fell to the ground.

  I felt, rather than saw, movement behind me. I dove out of the way, and rolled so that I could regain my feet.

  Amanda had come for me, and she was swinging a bat. Blood vessels had burst in her eyes until there was no white left. I didn’t know how she could see, but each swing of the bat was well aimed, and strong enough to make the wood whistle through the air. Her speed was breathtaking—nearly that of Monica at her peak. I couldn’t attack. It took everything I had just to avoid her blows.

  The ground was uneven. I staggered and fell, slamming first my body, then head with jarring impact against the rocks. I saw stars, bright shots of light in my vision, and for a few seconds I was incapable of movement. Time froze. I had an eternity to watch her raise the bat over her head with both hands; to see the look of fierce triumphant joy on her face. Then I heard the crack of a gunshot. Amanda’s body jerked back as a spot of bright crimson bloomed in the center of her chest. The back of her torso exploded outward in a shower of blood and bone. She staggered. The weight of the bat pulled her until she fell backward, where she lay utterly still.