Brad's wolf was done with circling and darting in and out. Victory would only come with the grey wolf's death. Snarling, he leapt and Bails met him midair. The sound of clashing bodies and snarls rang through the trees.
Neither would give way to the other. Balanced on hind legs, they snapped at each other's necks. Each tried to overbalance the other and expose the vulnerable underbelly.
Bails turned his head and clamped down on Brad's already injured leg. Rage and self-preservation soared with the pain. Brad threw his body against Bails, and as they fell, he twisted free of the painful bite. He ignored the sharp claws tearing at his face and neck, and sank his powerful and gaping jaws into the soft belly below the heaving ribs.
The rogue wolf made one last and futile attempt to escape the crushing jaws. The woods echoed with its scream of failure. It was dying and tried to crawl away, but Brad continued to tear at the bloody flesh until the defeated wolf lay still.
Bails was the resurrection of everything he hated, of everything he tried to forget. Bails was proof that the past couldn't be left behind, that it would revisit over and over until it destroyed everything and everyone he loved.
This place and the snarling rogue became the embodiment of all he tried to escape and couldn't. The animal's instinctive compulsion to rend and destroy that which caused it pain took over.
The wolf tore at the dead rogue. It couldn't stop.
~*~
In her human form, Livvy could do nothing but scramble away from the battling wolves. She wedged herself into the space between two boulders for safety, but rejected the impulse to hide or look away. She was no longer a girl. She could no longer shut her eyes to what she didn't wish to see.
Where only moments before she'd been terrified by her own plight, her fear now was solely for Brad. The grey wolf was vicious and would be as unprincipled as its human counterpart. He'd shown no mercy for his opponent back at the camp. He would show none now. For Bails, any quarrel was tantamount to a declaration of war.
Brad was more like her father; strong, capable of holding his own, but not given to proving his dominance in every dispute. He didn't need to and avoided conflict where possible. Though she'd never witnessed one, she knew Brad had had his share of fights as a cub. He wouldn't have earned his reputation without them, but skirmishes to establish dominance among young peers wasn't the same as what she'd witnessed today. The only time she'd seen Brad fight as an adult was with Tony and that amounted to no more than a reluctant tussle over a stolen kiss.
Her fear for the wolver she loved diminished in the first few minutes of combat. Brad fought like he'd been trained for war. He was relentless in his attacks, his movements quick and sure despite the injury to his leg.
As moonlight dimmed, a slight movement in the trees caught her attention and for a moment, her fear returned. Memory surged of that other, long ago fight where Brad was outnumbered and overwhelmed by his brother's gang of brutal bullies. She focused on the shadow of a man familiar in shape and posture. It was Morgan, the rogue who'd done what he could to help her. He watched the combatants, and when Brad's final assault began, he nodded and moved on.
It was only after the battle was done and Bails lay dead that a new fear arose. Brad's assault did not stop. She called his name over and over, and when he finally looked at her, she saw no recognition in those glaring wolf eyes. He was still in the thrall of a feral frenzy. Blood dripped from his muzzle, and he made no effort to shake it away. He continued to stare at her and curled his lip as if he saw her as some new threat.
"Brad, it's me," she whispered, desperately trying to keep her voice calm. "It's me. Livvy. Your Livvy, the one who loves you, the one you love. You protected me. You fought for me. You saved me from Bails."
His hackles settled back into place. He watched, but didn't move. His snarl receded and his stance relaxed, though he was still wary. Encouraged, Livvy kept speaking, intuitively aware that her tone was more important than her words.
"I need you, Brad. I need you to come home. I need the comfort of your arms around me. I need to hear your voice. I love you and I need to hear you say you love me, too. You saved me. You saved me from... He didn't..." She couldn't say it without losing control of her tightly held emotions. "You risked your life to keep me safe.
The wolf lowered its head and issued a soft whine. It took a tentative step forward. In an instant, its body stiffened, and its head snapped toward the direction of a perceived threat.
"Livvy. Livvy!" Her father's worried voice was joined by others.
"We're here. I'm okay. Brad saved me," she called back, but when she turned to assure Brad's wolf that everything was indeed okay, all she saw was the tip of his tail disappearing into the woods.
"Liv." This time her father's call was one of relief. "Livvybits. Thank God." Tom Dawson opened his arms and when she filled them, they closed like a vise around her. "Did he hurt you? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Daddy. I'm fine," she said and burst into tears, clear evidence that she wasn't. "Brad saved me." She saw again that look in the wolf's eyes right before he ran off, hopeless and ashamed. He'd saved her, but who would save him?
She tried to pull away. Tom eased his grip, but only to lift his hands to her neck and the telltale injury he found there. His body froze and his face became a mask of wolfish rage that Livvy had never seen in her father before.
"Are you all right?" he demanded angrily. His harsh voice betrayed the effort it took to keep his wolf in check.
"I'm fine," she repeated. "The shift took care of most of it. Bails didn't... Brad got there before...I have to go, Daddy. I have to find Brad. I have to bring him home."
"Damn, will you look at that?" Uncle Harvey stood with his son and two other men looking down at Bails' remains. "Never seen nothing like it."
"Hope I never see it again," Joe said as he turned away. "I'll run down and get a truck. No way we're dragging that down the road. I'll make sure to bring a tarp." He glanced back at the carcass. "And a shovel."
Livvy rested her head on her father's chest. "Please, Daddy, let me go. I have to find him."
Tom's arms went around her again as if he needed the physical contact as reassurance. His wolf receded and his voice held the calm and familiar comfort it always had.
"Give the wolver some time, Liv. This isn't something a man can brush off like a stray hair. He'll come home when he's ready." He, too, had eyes on the pile of bloody bones and fur. He took several long breaths before he spoke again.
"Your mother needs you now. She needs to see you whole and unhurt. Matthew's hurt, Liv, hurt bad. They were fixing to bring him to Doc's surgery when I came to find you. Doc says he's stable. For now, but..." His voice faded. "Your mother needs you."
"Doc Goodman's going with him, isn't he?"
Tom nodded, but qualified his answer. "Doc's got his hands full, Liv. Between your brother and Hannah Tilson..."
Hannah. Oh, dear God, Hannah. She'd left her when the Alpha ordered her to run. She'd been so frightened. She'd run away and left Hannah alone to face... "Is she? Did that monster?"
"It was the abomination that got your brother. If Brad hadn't stepped in... and then the Alpha killed it. Hannah got skewered by a strip of rusted metal in her side. Doc sealed her up as best he could, but he needs to get that metal out and he needs her at the surgery to do it."
Livvy nodded. Hannah needed her, too. "Take me home, Daddy."
"You'll be okay, Harv?" Tom called over her shoulder.
"Yep, long as I don't look at it too long. Gotta say, though, the bastard got what he deserved. I just wish I was the one to do it." He bobbed his head. "You tell him so when he comes home, Liv."
"If he comes home," she thought. "Thanks, Uncle Harvey, I will," she said aloud.
"You tell him from me, too," her father said.
With his arm around her shoulders and her arm around his waist, father and daughter began the long hike back down to where some of the pack's vehicles were par
ked. They walked in silence, each with their own thoughts, Livvy with prayers for her brother and Hannah - and for Brad.
Allowing his wolf to take full control was understandable. Once he'd opened that trailer door, he was fighting for his life and the lives of others. To embrace his wolf's inherent aggressiveness when it came to defending members of its pack was completely understandable, particularly since the defense of unmated females was dictated by Primal Law.
What worried her was his inability to let the wolf go. She could only pray that her father was right. Brad needed time.
Hannah's grandfather was standing next to an ancient Chevy, one of several old and rusted vehicles perpetually scattered around the Tilson property. As they approached, he untwisted the length of wire around the doorframe that held the rear door closed. The door popped open as soon as the wire was released.
"Told the Mate I'd carry you home," he said.
Tom thanked him with a nod. "Good of ya."
Tilson's thumb pointed over his shoulder to a pickup truck where several men worked. "Al's helpin' to load the carcasses, and Judy rode over with Hannah. She weren't lookin' so good."
"Then we'd better hurry," Livvy told him as she slid into the offered seat. The yellowed tufts of stuffing poking up from the cracked seat cover was dotted with mouse droppings. After all that had happened to her that day, the droppings didn't bother her at all.
"I figure we owe ya," said the man who took pride in owing nothing to anyone. The engine turned over three times before it finally started in a cloud of blue smoke. "You were good to our girl, rescuing and hiding her the way you did from that monster 'n all."
Livvy wondered who he'd heard that from. Whoever it was, Livvy couldn't take the credit. "It was Hannah who saved me, Mr. Tilson." Over and over. "She had to be scared, but she never showed it. Not once. She showed me what it is to be brave. She said you taught her how."
The eyes peering at her in the rearview mirror were doubtful. "Mighty kind of you to say so."
"Not kind. True."
She made sure the pack knew it, too. She also made sure they knew about the lone wolf who'd helped her. She repeated their stories frequently throughout the next day while she helped care for the injured duo. Both Matt and Hannah backed her claim, but no sign of Morgan was ever found.
The patients were bedded down in the room shared by two of the Goodman pups who were now camping out in their older brother's room. Neither patient saw it as an inconvenience.
Of the two, Hannah was in better condition. Her weakness, pale face, and dark, sunken eyes were caused mainly from blood loss which Doc assured them was temporary. Once he'd removed the shard of metal, and used his healing light, she was in the clear. Her body with its quick healing wolver genes would do the rest.
Matt, with casts on leg and arm, two broken ribs, and various cuts, scrapes, and bruises, spent most of his waking hours teasing and laughing with the young woman in the other bed. He claimed he had the prettiest roommate ever to anyone who'd listen, including the girl in the bed. Hannah giggled at the flattery, but Livvy noticed the sound was natural and sweet.
"If he doesn't stop saying that in front of Donna, poor Doc's going to have another patient, because I'm going to kill her," Ellie laughed, but Livvy knew her mother was worried, too. "It's not Hannah. She seems like a sweet girl and the Mate swears she's a flower in a field of thorns, but it's the thorns that worry me," she confided when they were alone. "I keep picturing Thanksgiving with the whole Tilson tribe knocking on my door."
At which Livvy started to laugh. "Don't worry, Mama. I've already figured it out. We're having dinner at Aunt Donna's. She has the bigger house."
"That's it! Oh, I feel so much better now."
They fell on each other, laughing more in a release of tension than at the joke. Ellie hugged her daughter and kissed her cheek.
"It feels good to laugh." Poor Mama had been beside herself with her daughter kidnapped and her son battered and broken with a punctured lung to complicate matters. Doc fixed the lung by drawing the air from his chest with a long needle, but the procedure only added to Ellie's stress. "It feels good to see you laugh, too. It's hard, honey, but he'll come back. It's only been a day."
Livvy immediately sobered. "A day and a night," she whispered. "What if he doesn't come back, Mama?"
The Alpha had insisted they run on the second night of the full moon in celebration of their victory and the recovery of their wounded. Livvy refused to run as a wolf. Instead, she tramped the woods around Gilead, calling out Brad's name. When she could walk no more, she returned to the village and sat among the trees where the festive lights were hung.
The slight breeze made them twinkle like a fairyland of stars. The effect should have been magical, but there was no magic in them for Livvy. There was no magic anywhere without Brad.
Chapter 27
Snow was predicted for the last night of the Winter Moon run. No one in Gilead seemed to care. With Christmas only two days away, spirits were running high. So high, that another, more impromptu party was planned. This one was for all the youngsters not old enough to run. They needed a place to wear off some of their holiday exuberance. They had Mary's Hall now, and since school was already closed for the winter break, there was no reason they couldn't stay up late.
Livvy volunteered to chaperone, but her services were rejected.
"You go run and have a good time," Opal Toomey told her. "We've got four first time preggers who think it'll be fun." The normally shy and self-effacing female rolled her eyes at the thought. "Plus a few older ones who don't run anymore. And don't forget your brother and Hannah Tilson. The Alpha said it would be all right as long we find them comfortable chairs and they don't do any running around. Do you think the little ones would notice if Santa's leg was in a cast?"
The day dragged on. She helped her mother wrap last minute packages. She helped her aunt put up her Christmas tree and other decorations and in the process, got to know Joe's girlfriend, Julie, a likable female who clearly adored Joe.
But keeping busy didn't help. She felt like an actor in a play, smiling and laughing while misery hung over her head like a cloud. Her malaise began to lift when she ran into the Mate after lunch.
"He's here, Livvy. I can feel him and frankly, I'm worried. He's trying to block me out, but what he's feeling is too intense to hide completely. He's come home to human, but he needs to come home to Gilead."
"Can't the Alpha order him to?" If Brad didn't want to see or talk to her, she would have to learn to live with it, but he couldn't lose the pack. She knew firsthand what it was like to feel isolated and alone. She would gladly suffer it again if it would prevent that happening to him.
Jazz nodded. "He could. He could even hunt him down and drag him back, but Griz won't do either. Love and loyalty aren't things that can be forced. They're things of the heart. They don't mean anything if they aren't freely given and freely received. My mother taught me that before she died, but I forgot it." She smiled. "Until I came to Gilead. It took me a while, but lucky me, I finally understood. It's like a two-way street. It's not just about giving it. You have to believe that you're deserving of it, too. You have to believe that others see what you can't. You have to believe you can find what they see, and when you do, it's...it's..." Her eyes started to tear.
"Like magic?"
"Yeah, that's the word I was looking for. It's like magic." The Mate laughed and the joy of it spread to Livvy's heart. "It's a magical feeling to know you're loved in spite of all your failings." And then she shook her head again. "Will you look at me getting all mushy about something so simple as love. My father, the old bastard, is probably turning over in his grave or fanning the fires of hell. Love," she said and laughed again, "is also the best revenge."
She sobered abruptly. "Find Brad Seaward, Livvy. Show him what love is all about. Make him believe in magic."
Easier said than done, though Livvy's meeting up with the twins gave her hope that Brad had not
forgotten one side of that two-way street.
Their round little bodies came rolling up the road much too fast for elderly ladies in icy conditions. Concerned for their safety, Livvy started running toward them when she heard them call her name. The way their chubby little arms were waving over their heads made her think there was some emergency.
"He's come home, Livvy. Bradley Dearest has come home," Edith cried breathlessly when Livvy reached them. She held her chest while her heavy breaths condensed in clouds around her.
"We thought it important that you should know," Edna huffed beside her.
"Have you seen him? Is he all right?" Livvy asked eagerly. Her heart was pounding with the news.
"Well," Edith hedged, "Not exactly, but we have evidence that he was there while we were out and about."
"He swept out the ashes from the fireplace and brought in more wood. He knows how much we enjoy a nice fire on these cold nights."
"He swept the snow from the porch and salted the path to the clothesline."
"And he brought in the bed sheets that were drying on the line. Our fingers get so cold hanging them out and bringing them in. Arthritis, you know." Edna spread her gloved fingers as if to prove it. "He folded them the way we like them, too."
"He showered and changed his clothes." Edith looked over both shoulders to make sure her confidence wasn't overheard before continuing in a whisper. "We checked his hamper. It was naughty of us, but we did it."
Her sister nodded in agreement with this scandalous admission. "We felt it was necessary."
"Of course it was," Livvy assured them. She maintained a serious look, but inside her wolf was spinning with happiness.
"There's more." Edna stamped her little booted feet up and down like a pup with exciting news that must be shared. She rummaged through a bright pink purse the size of a gym bag. "Ta-da," she sang and pulled a red envelope from the depths, a Christmas card judging by the holly print around the edges. She waved it in the air like a flag.
Shifter's Magic (The Wolvers Book 8) Page 27
