by Kimber White
Chapter Nine
“Open the door!” Derek shouted. Snarling behind me, he tried to pull the cage bars apart again. Dad kept his weapon raised and trained on him. Though he’d thrown me the keys, I wasn’t sure whether Dad would shoot him if I let Derek out.
“Jessa,” Derek’s voice was low, tight-lipped. “Open. The. Door. I can’t protect you from in here. If there’s someone out there . . . if it’s wolves.”
My heart raced as I turned back to Dad. “He’s right. Dad. Put that away. Or, don’t put it away but point it the other way. Derek can help us. I’m sure Grammy’s set you straight about him.”
A loud pop came from outside. Dad jumped and Derek growled behind me. I turned and fumbled with the lock. He white-knuckled the bars as I finally turned the key and let him loose. Once free, Derek moved in a blur past my father. I went after him, grabbing Dad’s shirtsleeve and pulling him with me. We ran out into the yard.
Orange plumes rose above the north end of the lot. One of the storage sheds had gone up in flames; the gas cans inside of it exploded like grenades.
“Molotov cocktails,” Dad shouted. “Bastards lobbed them over the north gate. They knew right where to aim. They knew where the fuel was.”
Derek dropped into a crouch, still trying to shift and unable to. He raised his chin and sniffed the air. “It’s wolves,” he said, low and threatening. “The same ones who chased us here. At least ten of them.” He rose and turned toward my father.
Sofie and Brutus ran out from behind a stack of tires. Brutus’s tail was singed. She ran to my father’s side, yelping. “Come on. The place is wired with cameras. The monitors are in my office. Let’s figure out what we’re dealing with.”
“Lyle.” Derek squared his shoulders and faced my father. “You can’t fight off ten wolves by yourself. I don’t care how many poison-laced bullets you have. If you want a fighting chance to save this place, you’re going to need me. So, you either need to fix me so I can shift, or you need to give me a damn gun. You’re in over your head on this one.”
My father clamped his jaw shut and narrowed his eyes. He clutched his left side and his forehead broke out in beads of sweat. He was barely staying on his feet from the beating he took just hours ago. But, I knew just what he was thinking. He was trying to come up with a reason not to just finish the contract and shoot Derek on the spot. I stepped forward and put a hand on his arm again.
“Derek’s right, and you know it. You’re not at full strength yet. He’s here to help us whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t like it. Not one damn bit. He’s a wolf, Jessa. You forget what his kind is capable of?”
“We can debate all of that later. Right now, we’re under siege and we need all the help we can get. Standing out here in the open isn’t going to help anything. Let’s head to the armory and get inside.”
“The armory?” Derek said, putting a hand on my shoulder. My skin sizzled with pleasure, even in the midst of a crisis. “You have an armory?”
“Dammit, Jessa. This is a mistake.”
Sirens cut through the air. Sofie and Brutus whined and sidestepped.
“Shit!” I yelled, tugging on Derek’s arm. “This way.”
“What the hell’s that?” he said, breaking into a run.
“Dad’s alarm system. They’re not just lobbing Molotovs anymore. They’ve breached one of the gates.”
Derek’s eyes glowed gold as he locked his hand in mine. He was done arguing with my father. For the moment, Dad let it go. We were in trouble. Big trouble if Derek’s count was right. Ten wolves. We couldn’t fight off ten wolves without somebody getting hurt.
“This way!” I yelled. A wall of smoke rose above me as we passed by the flaming storage shed. We had to get past it to get to Dad’s office. He liked to call it central command because he could watch the security monitors from there. Plus, he’d built a bunker beneath it stocked with supplies to last us a year. I hoped to God today wouldn’t be the day we’d need it.
We were twenty feet from the armory door when the first wolf burst through the smoke from behind. It lunged for Dad. He didn’t get his weapon up in time, but it didn’t matter. Derek moved lightning fast. The wolf was big and black as night. Its great fangs dripped and its eyes glowed red with bloodlust as it went for Dad’s neck. I screamed. Derek grabbed the wolf by the neck just before it clamped down. He hurled it backward. The wolf skittered on the ground and did a barrel roll, but the thing was on its feet and charging forward an instant later.
“Get inside,” Derek yelled. I grabbed my father and we ran. Dad took three stumbling steps forward. He hurt way worse than he wanted me to believe. Brutus and Sofie brought up the rear as Derek crouched low, waiting for the wolf to charge again.
A scream cut through the air and ripped my heart to shreds. Grammy. In the commotion, I’d forgotten to ask Dad where she was. She came around the other end of one of the trailers, another large gray wolf right behind her.
“Derek!” I yelled. I couldn’t get to her.
“Cover me!” he yelled back. I tore the gun from my father’s hand and pointed it at the first black wolf. They’d tear him apart. Maybe Derek could hold off one wolf. But two? Not like this. Not weakened. Good God, between my father’s injuries, and Derek’s inability to shift, I feared we wouldn’t have enough to fight these guys off even with Dad’s arsenal.
As Derek ran to Grammy’s aid, I leveled Dad’s weapon at the black wolf. He was already on the move, charging at Derek. I had a split second. One shot. If I missed, Derek might die, and Grammy too. I let out a breath and pulled the trigger.
I didn’t miss.
I hit the black wolf in the neck. His fur ripped open and blood poured from a great wound. He hit the ground and didn’t move, paralyzed by the toxin coursing through his shredded veins. I didn’t wait. I ran to the black wolf and put him down with a second shot.
I turned, meaning to shoot the other gray one. But, Derek had him on the ground. He’d put his body between Grammy’s and the wolf and taken the brunt of the attack. The gray wolf slashed Derek across the chest, reopening the wound I gave him, tearing through muscle and flesh. But, Derek stayed on his feet. He wrestled the wolf to the ground and yelled to me.
“Jessa, shoot him!”
I aimed for the wolf’s heart, but there was no way I’d get a shot off without risking hitting Derek too. Derek rolled end over end then managed to lock the wolf’s head in an armbar.
“Shoot!” he yelled again. “Hit him in the ass. Don’t kill this one!”
I didn’t think. I acted. I knew I wouldn’t get another chance. My shot went through the wolf’s right hindquarters. He yelped then went rigid in Derek’s arms.
“Lyle, help me drag him inside!” Derek shouted to my father. He’d gone to Grammy during the melee and helped her to her feet. All the color drained from her face, but she was all right. She looked like she’d seen a ghost, and I wondered if maybe she had. Seeing that wolf charge her must have brought back memories of the day she was torn from her family and brought down here.
“Grammy!” I shouted. “Dad, we have to get her inside. More are coming.”
Dad went to Derek. The two of them dragged the injured wolf toward the armory building. Derek had him by the front legs, Dad had his hind legs. I slung Dad’s weapon over my shoulder and went to Grammy. Hooking my hand gently under her arm, I helped her to her feet and walked her toward the building.
Dad kicked the door open with his foot as they heaved the limp wolf inside.
“Grammy,” I whispered, rubbing her back as she walked up the steps. Brutus and Sofie came in right behind us. I closed the door and bolted it.
“Over here,” Dad yelled, straining from the effort of dragging two hundred pounds of dead weight wolf. “I’ve got another cage. He won’t be moving anytime soon, but if he does, he still shouldn’t be able to break out. You couldn’t.”
Derek made a noise low in his throat to let my father know he was pushi
ng his luck. But, they worked together to get the wolf inside the cage my father kept against the wall. You see, sometimes the mission isn’t to kill. Sometimes, he’s paid to capture them. Then, the Harlans take it from there. Derek’s expression darkened as he tested the strength of the cage bars. Satisfied with my father’s craftsmanship, he gave a grim nod.
The wolf let out a sickly yelp as they heaved him inside and locked the cage door. His eyes were open, staring at a fixed point on the wall. But, he couldn’t move a muscle. His labored breathing thundered through the aluminum walls. The building was actually a converted WWII-era domed Quonset hut. Here, he built most of his inventions. The other trailer with the larger cage was newer, and he was in the process of moving things from here to there. But, I knew this place held sentimental value for him. He and my grandfather worked here together.
“Jesus,” Derek said. He stood over the cage and stared down at the helpless wolf. “What the hell is in those bullets?” He turned to me, pointing toward the wolf. “Is that what was supposed to happen to me?”
I swallowed hard and went to him. “We made a deal, remember? You said you’d forgive me for shooting you if I didn’t hold you responsible for everything the Kentucky wolves do.”
He let out a breath and shook his head. “But that shit’s still in me. I can feel it.” He eyed the weapon slung over my shoulder. I took it off and laid it on one of the steel tables Dad had in the center of the room.
Dad had moved to the back of the room where he had a bank of computer monitors set up. He switched everything on so he could start trying to get a bead on where the rest of the wolves might be. They were close. I knew that much. We could hear their plaintive howls in the distance as they felt the death of their comrade. The wolf in the cage whined, but couldn’t lift his head.
Derek went to the table and gripped the side of it, head down with a wide stance. Then, he pushed off and turned on me. “I can’t protect you like this. Not for very long.”
I went to him. I laid my hands flat on his chest. Just a short time ago, I might have hesitated getting this close to him. Now, I couldn’t imagine not touching him. His heart thundered beneath my fingertips and filled my head.
“Thank you,” I said. “If it weren’t for you, Grammy would be dead. Maybe the rest of us too.”
Grammy had slowly sunk into one of the folding chairs along the wall. Color came back into her cheeks, but her hands still shook. Derek’s eyes met mine. He squeezed my elbow then went to her. Squatting down to her eye level, he put a tentative hand on her knee.
“Are you all right?”
She slowly raised her eyes and smiled at him. Lifting her hand, she cupped his jaw. Then, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his forehead. “You remind me of my Charles. That’s Jessa’s grandfather. He saved me from wolves once too. He was a good man.”
Derek nodded. “I wish I could have met him.”
Grammy laughed. “Oh, he’d have tried to kill you. No amount of explaining would have done any good. He didn’t have an open mind like my Thomas does.”
The room went deadly silent for one beat. Then another.
I laughed first as we all turned and looked at my father. He hadn’t heard a thing. His eyes were glued to the monitors. “Can’t see the bastards,” he said. “But they’re out there. I can smell ‘em.”
Derek let out a bitter laugh. “So can I.”
He moved away from Grammy and punched the side of the steel hut. The walls shook and for half a second I feared he’d knock the structure down. But, he got a hold of himself and started to pace the room.
“God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Derek. I didn’t know. I wish there were something I could do to help you. I think we’re just going to have to wait it out until the toxin works its way through your system.”
“How long is that going to take?”
I looked at my father. I didn’t have an answer for Derek, and it tore at me. I did this to him. The first chance he got, he’d been ready to give his life for me. First, there was the wolf back at the Tucker farm. Then, the one outside.
“You’re bleeding,” I said. “Sit up on the table. We’ve got a first aid kit back here. At least let me clean those cuts.”
Derek gave me murderous stare. Sitting still didn’t seem to be on his list of priorities at the moment. “I don’t need iodine,” he said. “I need an antidote. Now.”
My turn to pound my fist into something. I picked the table, wanting to give the walls a rest. “And I said I’m sorry. We don’t have one!”
“Thomas,” Grammy got to her feet. Her tone was deadly stern as she walked toward my father. “Enough already.”
A look passed between them. His face went hard and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Ma. No. I’m still not convinced. It’s too dangerous.”
“It isn’t, and you know it,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What more proof do you need? Derek saved my life. He saved yours too. It’s time.”
“Time for what?” I asked.
Grammy turned toward me. She nudged my father in the shoulder, making him stand up. He looked back at her, grimacing. She just crossed her arms and nodded.
“Fine! But I still think this is a terrible idea.”
“Dad?”
He crossed the room and went to the locked metal cabinet against the wall. He threw the doors open and pulled out a brown glass bottle. Gripping it with a tight fist, he thrust it toward me. “I have an antidote. But if you so much as look at my daughter the wrong way, Monroe, I swear to God I’ll put you down for good.”
Chapter Ten
“How did you? When did you?” I held the amber bottle in my hand. I unscrewed the cap and sniffed its contents. Wrinkling my nose, I started to cough. “God, that smells awful. Like deer piss and ten kinds of vomit.”
“For all I know, that’s exactly what’s in it. Don’t suppose it tastes very good, either,” Grammy said. “And I can’t say for sure whether it’s still potent.”
Derek took the bottle from me and stuck his nose in it too. The odor made my eyes water; I couldn’t imagine what the experience was like for him with his supernatural sense of smell. Derek’s color turned ashen and he turned his head to the side to catch his breath again.
“Charles invented the toxin with a little help from friends,” Grammy said. “Thomas refined it and weaponized it.”
“And Grandpy made the antidote too?” I said, taking the bottle back from Derek before it made him sick.
My father moved to the back of the hut and planted himself in front of the monitors. He ran his hand hard over his chin. I knew him well enough to know it took everything in him not to blow up just then.
“Yep,” she said, taking the bottle from me.
“How old is that?” Derek asked, looking dubious as Grammy stirred the liquid with a dropper.
She raised a brow. “Let’s see. Charles passed away in ’98. He and Thomas stopped working on this quite a few years before that. I’d say it’s maybe thirty years old. I can’t promise it’s going to work. But it’s worth a try.”
“Wait,” I said, going to Derek. He’d perched himself on the edge of the table. His eyes widened as he watched Grammy stir the liquid. It was viscous, like oil. Fat, amber drops of the stuff beaded at the end of the dropper as she dipped it in and pulled it out again. “Is there a chance that stuff could make Derek worse?”
Grammy looked back at my father. I knew he was listening, but he kept his eyes glued on the computer monitors. Two pairs of glowing green eyes looked toward one of the cameras on the south side of the yard. The wolves were back near Grammy’s trailer now and getting closer.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Derek said.
“Dad?” I went to him. “You need to get over yourself for now. We can fight about all the rest of this later. Right now, we’re surrounded by at least ten wolves who seem hell bent on tearing us all apart if we’re lucky, or just burning this place to the ground around us if we’re not. Unless yo
u have some better plan for getting us out of this, we need to focus on helping Derek and getting out of here.”
He looked up at me, arching a bushy brow peppered with gray. “It might,” he said, shooting a glance toward Derek. Derek hopped off the table and came toward us. I put a hand up. There was more than enough testosterone flaring at the moment. None of it helping. “It might not. That stuff was my father’s idea. Not mine. He seemed to think someday we’d run the risk of shooting the wrong wolf. I disagreed.”
Derek growled and took the bottle from Grammy. “What’s in it?” he asked.
“Honestly? I’m not sure. My father was the chemist. My expertise is mechanical.”
“Charles didn’t exactly invent this,” Grammy chimed in. “Or the toxin either, if you want to know the truth. I said he had help from friends. Your people in Wild Lake might actually have more information on where it comes from. During the last pack wars, oh, I don’t know, fifty years ago, somebody up there worked with a shaman from one of the native North-American tribes over the Canadian border. They invented the toxin and the antidote, but as far as I know, it was never used up there. Charles convinced them to sell it to him. He wanted to do some experiments, but never got around to it.”
“So, you’re telling me there’s a chance if I take this stuff one of three things could happen. One, nothing happens and I’m stuck like this forever. Two, it kills me. Three, I take it and it cures me. You want to give me odds?”
“Well, one out of three,” Dad said.
Derek growled again and gripped the bottle so tightly I worried he might crush it.
“Enough,” I said, taking the bottle. “How do we administer it?”
“You drink it,” Grammy said.
“All of it?” Derek asked.
“Better not,” she answered. “Two or three drops at the most. If that doesn’t work, we can increase it. But, the way I remember Charles talking about this stuff, it should work about as fast as the toxin did. Right away.”
Derek gave Grammy a nod and took the bottle from me again. She held the dropper out to him and Derek dipped it into the bottle. He filled it and held the dropper over his tongue.
