by Jenna Kernan
“It hardly hurts now,” she whispered, noticing the holes now scabbing, the blood drying. “Healing, so fast.”
It was the most serious injury she’d ever sustained, and the bone did not even hurt now.
Johnny cocked his head toward the compound and then signed something to Mac. Johnny took the lead.
She fell into step with them, and for the first time since her capture she felt safe.
After a few minutes the sounds of shouts and curses died away. But they were back there. She knew it, because the colonel would not give up his prizes so easily. And what would happen to Johnny and Mac now?
She felt shaky again as she realized what this rescue would cost them. Did they understand what they had just done? The weight of their sacrifice dragged at her. She didn’t deserve such loyalty. All she had ever done her entire life was use and hurt people. Why would they help her?
Chapter 18
Bri looked around them and saw that her night vision had begun to pick up color. It was nearly morning. Mac slowed to a walk. How far had he run with her in his arms?
The silence of the forest enveloped her like a cloak and she could hear nothing but her own heartbeat and Mac’s labored breathing.
The fur that blanketed his face did not quite cover the upper and lower canines that jutted dangerously in opposite directions. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this, and she thought it would take some getting used to. But this was part of him. Just like her powers were a part of her. Welcome or not, they just were.
Her excellent eyesight made it possible to see his restless eyes and the way he rubbed one hand over the other in an anxious motion.
Bri stepped forward and stroked him from shoulder to elbow. He tensed but allowed it.
“It’s soft, your coat.”
Mac glanced behind her. She turned to follow the direction of his fixed stare, listening for Johnny.
“Is he angry with me because of this?” she asked.
Mac shook his head and lifted a hand to point. A moment later she heard the approach of something tearing through the undergrowth. She knew it was Johnny, because Mac waited with a casual ease that should have reassured, but Bri still found herself inching closer to Mac and taking hold of his thick, muscular arm. It was hard to forget the first time she saw Johnny. The night of her arrival. The night he’d tried to kill her.
Mac glanced at her and then back in the direction of the noise as Johnny broke from cover and then made a graceful stop. Only his heavy breathing and the lolling pink tongue indicated that he had exerted himself.
Johnny had scouted in front, and now he and Mac engaged in a series of hand gestures that Bri did not understand. It occurred to her that they should both learn sign language and then realized they had invented one of their own.
“Is it clear?” Bri asked.
Johnny huffed and nodded.
“I never would have gotten out without you two.”
Johnny grinned and then looked to Mac who motioned in the direction that Bri surmised they would be traveling.
“Wait. I need to tell you something. Something Dr. Sarr told me.”
At the mention of the good doctor, Johnny’s entire body went ridged and a low growl emanated from his throat. The hairs on his body lifted until they stood out making him look even more deadly.
“Yes,” she said. “I feel exactly that way. But I remembered what you taught me, Mac, and tried my persuasion on Sarr. He was very easy to control. At my suggestion he injected himself with a sedative and gave me a key card.”
Mac and Johnny now both more resembled owls as their eyes went big and round as they exchanged a look.
“It’s how I got out.”
Mac recalled telling Bri just that the same night he had assured her that her talents would not sway him and that her energy draw would not weaken him. He had told her purely for his own self-interest. Telling her the truth had been the simplest way to get what he wanted—her.
Only he wasn’t really immune to her. Not really. But it wasn’t the magic or her power that drew him. It was something much more alluring—her spirit, her empathy, her kindness toward Johnny and her optimism that things could be better.
Now he was willing to risk all their necks for hers. Brianna Vittori was the one female in the world who could understand him. What it was like to be different, outside. And she could understand what it was like to have hurt the ones you love, because she had done the exact same thing. And something else, something he couldn’t do for himself. She had forgiven him for the critical error that brought death to his squad.
He loved her for all that and more. Mac had acknowledged the truth when he realized he’d lost her, but he his heart had known far before that.
She was speaking again. Something about making humans do what she told them. He tried to focus on her words while listening for any sign that the colonel or the vampires he and Johnny had seen had found them. They needed to move.
Bri shook her head. “It feels weird to say that—‘humans’—because it forces me to admit that I’m not one of them anymore, at least not completely.” She laced her fingers together and then twisted her hands one against the other as she stared up at Mac. Her gaze did not hold the accusation he deserved but something he thought might be anxiety.
“I have to tell you something I found out about how you two were turned.”
The moment she said the word turned Johnny set his teeth with a snap and Mac spun away. This was a topic they did not speak of—ever. In all the months since their return, he had never told Johnny how sorry he was for doing this to him. He had tried to show him day after day, but to say it aloud? No. Mac squeezed his eyes shut and thought he might be sick.
She began speaking again. No. No. He did not want to hear this. It took all his restraint not to clamp his hands over his ears like a child to shut out what came next.
Bri touched Mac’s shoulder, her fingers threading through the hair that covered his back. “Sarr told me that Lewis knew there was a werewolf in there and he sent you in anyway. No, not anyway. He sent you in specifically because there was a werewolf in there.”
He spun to face her now, his lips curled back to show the long white teeth capable of tearing her to ribbons. She drew back her hand and clamped it over her throat. But she did not run. Bravery, he wondered, or trust? How could she know the hatred blazing through him was not for her but for Colonel Lewis?
Bri turned to Johnny, extending her hand and stroking his upper arm. “Johnny?”
He motioned for her to continue. Mac braced for her next words. Could it be true? Had his commanding officer known what was in that building?
Bri nodded and cleared her throat, her gaze darting between them as they loomed like twin nightmares.
Her voice was tight and trembled when she spoke. “Lewis knew the werewolf was there and he sent your squad. He didn’t expect you to capture that building or clear the roof or whatever he told you to do.”
Mac stood stupefied by her words as his version of reality collided with this new one.
Bri continued her voice a dirge. “Sarr said that the objective was to have at least one survivor. Instead, Lewis got two.”
Mac stumbled back as if she’d punched.
Could it be true?
The solid surface of a tree trunk was all that kept him standing as the dizziness flooded through him. Half of him was relieved because it made it easier to go. The other half was mad as hell at being used.
He glanced to Johnny to see how he was taking it and saw his Lam’s eyes narrowed as he turned in the direction they had come. Mac knew his gunner’s intention was murder, so he moved to stop him and a scuffle ensued that sent Bri retreating behind a sturdy tree. Mac held Johnny. Johnny broke free. Mac caught him again. They thrashed and tumbled, but Mac never lifted a finger
or fang and neither did Lam until Johnny raised a hand to call a halt.
Bri knew her words were triggering something dangerous. But instead of retreating as anyone with sense might have done, she waited until the two werewolves had ceased their struggle and then continued on in a rush as if speed might somehow help in the delivery of her words.
“It was Lewis. Not you. His decision. Not yours. None of this was your fault.”
Mac’s heartbeat thundered in his ears so loudly that he feared he could not trust his hearing. It was like a windstorm roared within him as the forest all about sat still and calm.
“There’s one more thing.”
Mac didn’t think he could stand one more thing. He shook his head and pointed at the trail. They needed to move. He needed to move.
Bri held her ground and launched in as he reached for her, intending to carry her if she would not walk.
“Sarr said that Lewis planned to lock up Johnny either way.”
Her words brought him up short.
“But worse, terrible.” She covered her hand with her mouth and drew a long breath through her nose. Then she shivered as if trying to toss something vile from her skin and he and Johnny stood rooted like the trees that surrounded them.
What had they done to her? Mac flexed his claws and lowered his chin, wishing for a chance to pay Dr. Sarr and Colonel Lewis back for all their attention.
“Lewis had plans for me, too. He wanted to harvest my eggs and breed his own vampires. I escaped from the operating room.”
Mac forgot he could not speak. His words came out as a howl of outrage, an explosion of fury.
Bri didn’t cringe or brace, she just continued on. “And they harvested your sperm as well. Johnny’s, too. They’ve already tried to impregnate women with them. Sarr said the fetuses were normal. Do you know what that means? Mac, your children will be normal. You can have them, lots of them.”
The two Marines looked at each other in stunned silence. The horror of being attacked had been hard. Knowing it was his fault had been agony. Now Bri had added the knowledge that he had been attacked twice. Once by the werewolf and once by a man he had respected. The treachery of Lewis’s action seeped into his skin like poison until he burned from within. The government they had sworn to protect had betrayed them.
And there was fallout: he and Lam might have children out there very soon. Normal children. He squeezed his eyes shut as the relief and sadness gripped him.
When he opened his eyes, there was no doubt, no more uncertainty. Mac believed Brianna’s words and felt in his heart they were true. It all made perfect sense. Mac had to get them away.
* * *
Mac didn’t remember setting off. But he found himself carrying Bri again, loping over uneven ground with Johnny at his heels.
His feet moved methodically and he scented the air for any spoor that indicated threat. But his mind stuttered and wobbled as he tried to absorb what Brianna had told him. He’d been set up, tricked, betrayed because he followed orders.
Semper Fi. Always Faithful.
But how could he be when those he trusted had betrayed that loyalty?
Before he had turned wolf, he had never disobeyed an order. Now he didn’t know how to follow one. So what was he now if not a Marine? A monster, that’s what. And a man.
He’d heard it said that there were no ex-Marines. No retired Marines, no former Marines. Once a devil dog, always a devil dog.
Was it true? Because his world had now shrunk to include only two people: Bri and Johnny.
Protecting them no longer ran in two opposite courses. They all needed to escape this place and the commander who did not understand the Code.
Duty, Honor, Country. Lewis had no honor, and so Mac held him no allegiance. He still loved his country and was still willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to protect her from all enemies. But he wouldn’t be used like a zoo animal. No, that he would not do.
Mac was still a Marine. It was Lewis who wasn’t. He didn’t deserve to be. And Mac would make it his personal mission to see he was held accountable.
My God, they’ve taken our sperm and used it, too.
For now, Mac ran. They didn’t stop. That was the thing about his second form—he could run tirelessly. When Mac did draw to a halt, it was because he had reached his first objective—an isolated home with a female occupant who hung her laundry on a long line.
He set Bri on her feet, and she stretched and rolled her neck as if stiff and sore from being jostled for hours. She could run faster than either of them, but to do that was to leave their protection. And she stayed, making her choice to trust him. He promised himself to be worthy of that trust.
He had to tell her about the vampires they had scented. She needed to know that they faced two threats.
But for now he was mute. He motioned to the little square of grass cut into the forest by human hands. The lawn was dotted with weeds and scattered with a collection of discarded and rusting automobiles in various stages of disassembly. Between the white Thunderbird on blocks and the unidentifiable truck seats lay the clothesline. He pointed, and she understood what he wanted. She crept into the yard. He watched from cover, ready to protect her if she was sighted, but knowing it would be far better for the homeowners to catch a glimpse of her than him.
She began by removing an old comforter from the line and laying it beside her on the grass. Into this she tossed a pair of men’s jeans, a wrinkled white T-shirt and an old blue-and-gray plaid flannel with elbows worn so thin he could nearly see through them. She turned to go, then glanced at her green scrubs and added a few more items to the pile. Then she looked toward the house as she bundled them all in the bed covering and returned so fast that he lost sight of her for a moment. An instant later she was beside him, extending the offering, but he didn’t take them. Instead he lifted her and the bundle and set off at a run. This time Johnny took point, pausing only to check the air for any scent of the vampires.
At first Mac had no direction. His objective was only to put as much distance as possible between them and the colonel and to stay in the cover of the forest. But as he ran, he began to consider options and formulate a plan. He knew the colonel would set up a perimeter. He needed to be outside it and in a vehicle large enough to carry two people and a nine-foot werewolf.
Mac knew that the colonel would anticipate his objective and therefore watch the motor pool. Mac needed his move to be unpredictable. He considered and dismissed several possibilities before he finally settled on a strategic risk—the local ghost town, Bodie. It was isolated, but several of the area businesses drove tourists up there. Most of the tour companies had vans or small buses. He thought the drivers might not be too careful about the keys, but it would be easy to take them by force, if necessary.
The trouble was the location. It was exposed with no good cover for miles in any direction. Lewis would expect him to stay in the forest. That was why he needed to leave it. Mac did not trust his intuition. That was why his breath caught and his skin tingled. He glanced from Bri to Johnny praying he was doing the right thing.
Could they stay ahead of the vampires? His preference was to take on those bloodsuckers one at a time and not fight them on open ground.
He’d tested the theory that a werewolf bite was the only kind of wound that a vampire could not heal. Was it also true that only a vampire’s fangs could pierce a werewolf’s thick hide and that their venom was lethal?
Mac feared he might soon find out.
As the night slipped quietly into morning, they crossed a road and continued into the woods on the opposite side. The light glimmering through the trees told him they were on a course paralleling the river. At midmorning the sky had clouded over as they skirted well around the town of Bridgeport in the Toiyabe National Forest. By late afternoon the rain swept in, muddying the river an
d making the unpaved roads a quagmire.
Good, Mac thought. That will slow down the search. Then Bri began to shiver. The warmth of his arms was no longer enough to protect her. She needed a fire. He motioned to Johnny, who understood and took off on a recon. Johnny found an abandoned miner’s cabin that looked to have been forgotten since the 1849 rush. The roof had collapsed on one side, and the remaining portion was thick with moss, but it was dry inside because the miner had set the cabin into the sloping hillside. The subterranean back third was protected and dry. The stone fireplace chimney had fallen, but the hearth remained and the gaping roof would vent the smoke, while the rain would make it invisible. Once inside, Mac saw that someone had more recently used this shelter and left behind several articles, including a rusty lantern half full with fuel oil, aluminum pots and pans, candles and a stack of dry wood tucked against the earthen wall on the backed dirt floor, along with kindling and newspapers from the 1980s.
Johnny left them to search for something to eat. Mac knew he could run down anything on two legs, with the possible exception of Bri, and he felt sure Johnny would not come back empty-handed.
Mac began the fire by splashing kerosene on the newspaper and using an iron spike and a stone to throw sparks. Bri huddled, watching, and Mac noted that her toes where all white from frostbite. He needed to get her warm.
By the time he had a flame started her jaw was clacking like a set of chattering teeth.
He retrieved the bundle of clothing to find that the comforter had kept them reasonably dry. He offered Bri the female things she had gathered, motioning for her to get dressed. Then he called the change, enduring the shift and then lifted a bare foot into the denim jeans still warm from Bri’s touch. After much tugging, he found the pants too snug, the flannel too loose and the wrinkled white tee just right. He untucked the tee so it covered the fact that he couldn’t fasten the top rivet of the jeans and left the flannel unbuttoned, flapping over his ass so Johnny wouldn’t make fun of how tight the jeans were. He hadn’t worn civilian clothes in so long, he wasn’t sure how they were supposed to fit.
