Shifter's Magic (The Wolvers Book 8)

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  "No." Running was out of the question until more help arrived. Livvy crawled to the iron yoke that attached to the hitch and crouched behind it. Fear battered a steady rhythm against her heart as she watched Brad fight the wolf she assumed was Bails.

  With the shift, Brad had broken Bails' grip. He rolled away and instantly regained his feet. Though his foreleg was injured, he met the rogue's leap. They clashed mid-air with vicious snarls. Brad went for the other's throat, but Bails snapped his head to the side and ripped at Brad's already damaged shoulder.

  Brad yelped with the pain, but didn't pull away from the savage bite as would be expected. He threw his body into it instead.

  They fell and rolled with Brad's teeth locked on Bails' muzzle. Breaking apart, they circled each other, hind quarters low to the ground, tails held high. Their fangs were bared and bloody. Bails' lip was badly torn. Livvy saw the weakness in Brad's injured leg and knew the rogue must be aware of it, too.

  Off to her left where another skirmish was being waged, another animal scream sounded. Under vicious attack, the wolf hesitated and shrank back. The move cost him his life. The lone wolf, who'd already killed the first of the trio, leapt. They rolled and the lone wolf sank his teeth into the neck of the indecisive rogue, ripping away fur and flesh. He turned with a bloody growl to the third who turned tail and ran. His yips and howls were surely meant as a call for help to the other rogues.

  Instead of following the fleeing wolf, the lone wolf now turned his eyes to the women. His flank was torn and a long stream of blood flowed from below his right ear. He faced them, flecks of blood flying from his muzzle each time he snapped his head to the side to look at the battling males.

  Matt, fighting Karl alone, was suffering badly. He was bleeding from several wounds, stumbling about but refusing to quit or run. Karl charged and the young, untried wolver tried to dodge away. He lost his footing. His fall saved him, but not for long. The deformed wolf turned and its lips pulled back in a bizarrely human smile.

  "Matthew!" Livvy screamed.

  A hand grasped her ankle and in the throes of panic for her brother, Livvy struck out with her foot. She pulled back just in time when she saw it was Hannah.

  "Run," the girl whispered before her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed at Livvy's feet.

  The lone wolf snarled and charged toward her brother.

  More snarls and growls sounded from the woods.

  Livvy heard the Alpha's voice in her head.

  "Run to the trucks," it commanded and Livvy had no choice but to obey.

  Chapter 25

  Panting, the two battling wolves broke apart. Without losing his awareness of Bails, Brad's eyes scanned the area. Matt was down and struggling to rise. The wolfish monstrosity stood on its hind legs with its canine shaped arms raised. Clawed, paw shaped hands curled to deliver a death blow. It raised its slavering maw in a howl of triumph that was all wolf.

  Brad's wolf snarled one word and with it, Brad and his wolf became one. "Pack."

  Brad dove across the small clearing in a stunning and unanticipated leap. His wolf's open jaws caught the monster in the side where its man-like form was most vulnerable and sank its fangs into the soft flesh. The monster roared and with incredible strength, flung its attacker aside. Brad landed at the base of a tree.

  The fierce shock of the impact only served to further enrage Brad's wolf. It barely noticed the stranger dragging Matt's limp body toward the safety of the trees. What did register was the flash of light that brought the unrecognized ally home to man temporarily distracted the monster, and that moment's reprieve gave Brad time to regain its feet. It was only a moment.

  Bails barked a sharp order to the creature, and took off for the trees in pursuit of the fleeing Livvy.

  The monster turned its attention from the fleeing pair and turned it toward Brad. The thing moved remarkably fast on its misshapen limbs and Brad felt its claws rake through the fur on his side as he rolled and dove away.

  Brad's wolf cried, "Mate!" and then the monster was on him again.

  Instinct cried out for him to protect his fleeing mate. Experience told him to do so would doom both himself and his best friend to death. Dodging tooth and claw, he attacked the monster's lower legs. Twice, his teeth caught tendons that refused to give way to his powerful jaws. Twice, he was swatted aside like he was an annoying bug.

  More snarls and growls erupted, growing louder as they approached. If they came from Bails' band of rogues, the battle was lost. Brad's wolf was beyond caring for its own survival. Kill the enemy was its only mission.

  His battle with the creature ended when, with a roar of rage, Gilead's Alpha leapt into the circle of firelight with a snarl that sent a wave of power out into the night. Oversized to begin with, the great golden brown wolf seemed to expand and grow, filling the small camp with his presence.

  The monster turned its attention to this new threat. In a fury of fang and fur, the two met. Matched pound for pound in size, the lumbering Karl was no match for the Alpha's agility and speed. Like lightning, the Alpha struck again and again. The power of the Alpha's mantle swelled until even the mindless killer knew it had met the means of its defeat. Bleeding from multiple wounds and with a slobbering whimper, the creature fell to its knees.

  "Find mate."

  This time, Brad didn't hesitate to follow his wolf's priority. He ran in the same direction as Bails.

  ~*~

  Livvy ran for all she was worth. Blind fear guided her steps and with the Alpha's command driving her forward, she headed for the rutted track that would lead her down to safety. It was her wolf's cry of warning that brought her up short. A rogue stood by one of the trucks parked to the side of the track. His head snapped back and forth, searching the woods to either side. His twitching said that he was as frightened as she was.

  "Behind!" Her wolf shouted and Livvy heard the sound of another wolf following after her with no attempt at stealth.

  She crossed the track and headed uphill. The sound of the wolf didn't fade. She couldn't outrun it in human form or hide the scent of her fear.

  "Alpha!" she panted aloud and in her mind sent a flash of light and the image of a wolf. She couldn't outrun a male, but if she could find a sheltered place to defend, she might survive long enough for help to arrive.

  The shift occurred as she was about to leap a fallen log, but this time, she was prepared. Her wolf came to the fore in a smooth transition. It sailed over the obstruction and landed several feet beyond. Ears laid flat, tail straight out from its body, the she-wolf stretched her legs to their full length, and headed for the rocky bluff at the top of the hill. She almost made it.

  She was scrambling up the first low outcropping of rock when the male caught up to her. Powerful jaws clamped onto her leg hard enough to cause pain, but not hard enough to cause damage. If she fought, those jaws would cripple her. She had no choice but to allow herself to be pulled down from the rock to the dirt below.

  It was Bails, the grey wolf who'd broken Primal Law when he attacked Brad. There was no mistaking his scent or the scars over his eye. And now that she smelled him as wolf, there was something underlying his scent that had the odor of sickness, though not of disease. It frightened the she-wolf and she tried to back away as soon as her leg was released.

  There was nowhere to run. The rocks she'd fled to for safety now formed a prison with Bails guarding the only route to escape. He howled in triumph as if he wanted the world to know, and then snarling, he began to pace back and forth, never taking his eyes from the she-wolf. With each passing, Bails moved closer. His lip curled with the pleasure of her growing fear. His scent changed to that of a sexually aroused male.

  What Bails wanted was forbidden by Primal Law. It was abhorrent, and its practice was punishable by death or banishment to a permanent animal state. As humans, wolver females couldn't conceive without a mating bond, but as wolves, that biological restriction didn't apply. The results of the forbidden act that sur
vived gestation were called abominations, malformed and violent – like Karl.

  Bails' sick scent was a milder version of Karl's, but there was no mistaking the two were related by blood. The horror of that thought struck the human Livvy so hard, the she-wolf gagged with it.

  As if he was waiting for her to put it together, Bails chose that moment to strike. He dove at the she-wolf and drove her to the ground.

  The female screamed in revulsion and rage. She fought because her life depended on it. It didn't matter that she wasn't complicit. If she became pregnant, the birth would be something her body couldn't survive. Worse, she was in estrus, making pregnancy not only possible, but probable.

  Livvy kicked. She bit. She struggled to stay on her back, an otherwise vulnerable position, but one from which she couldn't be mounted. Bails' jaws locked onto the side of her neck. He didn't bite deep, but grabbed a mouthful of her thick winter ruff and tore it away. She thrashed and screamed in pain. Her hind claws found purchase and she dug deep.

  Her reward was a snarl of rage and another bite to the neck, this one deeper. It happened so fast and the pain so terrible, it stunned her. She rolled with the force of Bails' larger body and screamed when he transferred his grip to the back of her neck and over her spine.

  This would not happen. This could not happen. Livvy was ready to die before she let it happen. Her only regret would be in losing Brad just when she'd found him again.

  ~*~

  Brad tore after Livvy and the rogue who meant her harm. Their trail wasn't difficult to follow. Livvy's fear and Bails' stench permeated the earth and air along their path. He knew where they were headed. He'd been there before. And so had Bails.

  The tear in his shoulder and the pain shooting up his foreleg were nothing when compared to the burning fire of his rage. Hate and loathing filled his lungs and coursed through his veins, not only for Bails, but for himself and for his father.

  He should have killed Bails when he had the chance. His father shouldn't have interfered. It felt like someone had turned back the clock and his past was repeating; this place, Bails, the bastard's threats against Livvy. Only this time, Bails was depraved enough to do what he threatened. He'd already done it to another wolver female. He'd created an abomination.

  Brad's wolf sensed it as soon as it came in contact with the hideous creature. The familial odor was the same, though more tainted and vile in the creature.

  At best, Livvy would suffer rape at the hands of a rogue. At worst, she'd die giving birth to a monster, and it was all Brad's fault. He'd brought this on her as sure as the rise and fall of the moon. He hadn't left his past behind. He'd brought it with him to Gilead and every member of the pack would suffer for it.

  His surety solidified when he heard Livvy's screech of pain.

  Like a shadow riding the wind, the wolf sped through the trees.

  ~*~

  The Alpha, now back in human form, felt pity for the whimpering abomination at his feet, but had no mercy. The creature was a killer, a thing of nightmares. Doc Goodman had heard the stories as a cub, stories meant to teach and frighten the young around the campfire at night. He'd always been skeptical of the tales. Now he knew them to be true.

  He saw it in the creature's eyes. While it whined and whimpered, it watched with a primal cunning so intense it sent a shiver up the Alpha's spine. How the hell had someone trained this thing?

  The creation of these monsters provided the basis for so many of the werewolf myths that gave humans nightmares and endangered every wolver on the planet. He knew how they came to be, but no one knew why.

  The physician in him theorized that it was the shift from wolf to human and back again over the course of fetal development that caused the problem since wolvers permanently banished to life as a wolf had no problems procreating. Their offspring were full blooded wolves. By long tradition, however, wolver females didn't go over the moon while pregnant. The belief was that the shift could cause the spontaneous abortion of the fetus, but maybe there was something more to the old taboo. What would happen to the fetus that did not miscarry?

  In Doc Goodman's book, this told him two things. There was a biological reason for females lacking the power to shift unaided except under the Hunter's Moon. It was Nature's way of protecting the developing fetus, and an ancient and very wise wolver had figured out the inherent danger of sex in wolf form. It was always followed by a shift to human. Both biology and custom provided ways to preserve the species and prevent the aberrant mutations that resulted in abominations.

  It wasn't the creature's fault any more than an alligator could be held responsible for killing a human being. Still, the man eating gator had to be put down. You didn't bring it home to swim in the family pool. No matter how kind its keepers, the gator would always be ruled by instinct and wait for its chance to kill again.

  Sure enough, when Doc tested his theory of opportunistic slaughter by glancing up at the arrival of his Second, the monster attacked. The test was over before Roger Wilson had time to react. The thing lay dead, the blood from its torn throat soaking into the ground at the Alpha's feet.

  Roger stared at the creature for a full minute before he spoke and only after he swallowed several times. "Is that what I think it is? It's an abomination isn't it? An abomination." When The Alpha nodded, Roger went on. "Good heavens, I didn't think they were real. I'll go get something to cover it up. We don't want the women upset. No, no, we don't want them upset. The sight is much too frightening."

  Matt Dawson, exhausted, but alert, sat propped against a tree stump. He waved his hand at Roger. "Not half as scary as those shorts." His laugh turned into a cough.

  "I wasn't expecting to be called away from the run," Roger sputtered indignantly. His white cotton underwear was dotted with dozens of tiny red cupids.

  Matt continued to cough. He held his hand away and stared at it. Blood dripped down his chin. "Alpha?" he asked before his chin hit his chest and he slumped to the side.

  Doc was there before his head hit the ground. "Roger! Find my bag."

  Others were entering the camp, some dragging bodies of men and wolves. None of the bodies were pack. Though Gilead was not untouched, their wounds were minor. These wolvers had been to war only once in their history, but they knew how to hunt in small, coordinated packs. They didn't depend on individual strength as much as they depended on each other. For them, hunting rogues wasn't any different than hunting deer or wild boar.

  Jazz, running through the crowd with her mate's medical bag under her arm, let her pride in her pack flow out over the camp. Her arrival at the scene didn't dull her pride, but tempered it with worry and sorrow. Matt Dawson's wounds weren't minor.

  Tom and Ellie Dawson were already there. Tom stood, pale and unmoving, and holding his mate close to his chest. Ellie clung to him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, unable to watch her son gasp for breath as blood bubbled from his mouth.

  Jazz knelt beside the Alpha who held a glowing ball of healing magic in his hands. Very few wolvers had the gift, but as in so many things, Gilead was blessed. She asked no questions, but knelt silently beside him while he worked, and sent her own brand of magic into the young and seriously injured wolver.

  Matt didn't open his eyes, but his breathing became easier and the bleeding stopped. The Alpha closed his fist to extinguish the light, and stood.

  "He's stable for now. Let's get him back to my office." He flexed his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck.

  "Thank God." Jazz looked at the relieved faces of the family and frowned. "Where's Livvy?"

  It was the Alpha who answered. "I sent her and Hannah running for the trucks right before I got here," he said as if the matter was taken care of. He then turned to Roger who'd been hovering nearby and began giving him instructions on how to safely move the patient.

  Ellie's face paled even more and she turned back to her mate. Her voice shook. "Livvy wasn't there. I thought I'd find her here, but then I saw Matt, and... Oh God,
Tom, where is she?"

  A wolver ran out from behind a dilapidated trailer, waving his arms. "Over here! Over here! It's Hannah Tilson and she's hurt."

  The Alpha picked up his bag. While he ran, he sent out a call to Brad Seaward and the missing Livvy.

  "Where are you?"

  What he received in answer had him shouting for Roger again.

  Chapter 26

  In answer to the Alpha's call, Brad sent an instant image of the scene as he came upon it; a wolf attempting to mount the she-wolf it had pinned by the neck. That's all he saw before his vision turned red.

  "Livvy. Mate. Ours."

  Without slowing his speed, he leapt.

  Startled by the projectile of fur and the flash of light as Livvy was brought home to human, Bails was off balance and unprepared. He was thrown against the outcropping of rock by the force of Brad's assault. He fell, rolled, and snapped at the blur that took a chunk of fur from his flank.

  "Kill."

  Once again, Brad and his wolf were in full agreement. Eyes blazing with rage, nostrils flared, fangs bared and eerily glinting in the darkness, he turned and struck again. This time he came away with flesh attached to the fur. Bails yelped and struggled to his feet. Brad snarled without sympathy. His fury knew no limits.

  Cautious, Bails danced away and kept his distance. He circled to the left. When Brad didn't immediately follow, some of the rogue's bravado returned. He began to dart, forward and back, daring Brad to attack on his terms.

  The faint light faded as the moon slid behind a cloud. Bails leapt forward, his grey body a phantom in the darkness. Brad evaded, and then lunged forward to attack his opponent's throat. The rogue snapped his head to the side and twisted away, but Brad was ready for the move. Using his superior speed and size, he threw himself into the rogue and took him to the ground. Brad lunged at the exposed belly, but again, Bails slipped away. He rolled to his feet and began to circle once more.