Bitten by Treachery (Hadley Werewolves)

by Shawntelle Madison

  As Trenton crept toward the bedroom, his first inclination was to call out someone’s name, but he didn’t know if one of them was here. He reached the closed bedroom door and found it locked. His hand pressed against the cool wood, a solid door made from oak. Scratch marks lacerated the doorframe and polished brass knob.

  A soft voice snapped, “You go ahead and try to come through that door, and I’ll show your ass what kind of bullets mama got in her gun.”

  Trenton couldn’t resist a chuckle. Emma snorted from behind Charly.

  Trenton knocked for good measure in a tap-ta-tap beat. “It’s Officer Spencer, Mrs. Wendell. We’re here to escort you to safety.”

  “Safe out there, my ass. How do I know you ain’t one of them?” she asked. He faintly heard the click of her gun’s safety.

  “‘Cause I’d be ripping the door off the hinges if I was, ma’am. It’s as safe as it can be for now. We’re taking any stragglers to the school bus to get them out of town.”

  “All right … I guess.” The door slowly opened. Trenton pulled it the rest of the way. Damn, that sucker was heavy. She’d been smart to hide in this room. The only window, a circular one, was barely large enough to fit a smaller child through.

  “How did you get this shut?” Trenton joked.

  “When you have those crazy bastards coming for you, you’d be surprised how strong you get.” The top of Mrs. Wendell scarcely reached Trenton’s shoulder, but she had enough spunk for them all. She grabbed her purse and shotgun. “Let’s go, kiddies.”

  “Where’s your son?”

  The elderly woman shook her head. “He ... bought me time to get to the room. I can only hope he ran away in time.”

  “I’m sorry,” Charly mumbled.

  “It’s not your fault, girl. You didn’t bring those bastards back to us.”

  Emma flashed a dark look to Trenton, but he remained silent. This wasn’t the time.

  “I’m going to take Mrs. Wendell to the bus,” Emma said. “You check the Fields’ house. We’ll meet up at the bus stop.”

  Trenton nodded. He hoped the evacuations would go well. As they ran toward the Fields’ house on the other side of town, he spotted a few people from the list running toward the schoolyard. By the time they got to the Fields’ ranch house, the sun had begun to set. Eight hours ago he’d bought a coffee from the shop and now they feared for their lives. The black memories from the last attack touched his senses and he tried to push them away. He had a job to do: serve and protect.

  Unlike the Wendell home, the Fields’ house appeared locked down. All the windows and doors were shut tight. Trenton checked the front door and found it secure. He knocked a few times, but no one answered. Some instinct told him not to go. Even if it was deathly quiet, someone had to be close.

  “Maybe they left already?” Charly asked.

  “I don’t know. Something is off.”

  “I have a way to check.” Charly turned away from him and then used her nails to rake into her wrist. Droplets of blood formed along the tracks.

  “What are you doing?” he snapped.

  “The magic here is scant,” she whispered. She scratched her other wrist.

  “Stop it!” He grabbed her elbow. “I don’t like this.”

  “I’m doing what must be done. I can help you find them.”

  His grip tightened. She wrenched her hand away and took the knife from his belt instead. Before he could stop her, she hurt herself again. A sharp cut to her palm brought fresh blood. Then he caught the scent he hadn’t noticed before—an additional peppermint-like layer hidden under the coppery smell.

  Charly raised her palm to reveal a growing smear. “This is me. What you see and smell is the real me.”

  She spoke with downturned eyes and took another step back before drawing something he couldn’t see into her hand. Then she exhaled into the blood pooling in her palm. The darkening liquid pulsed and suddenly dripped up her fingers. Toward the east.

  Using her other hand, she pointed in that direction. “Whoever lives here went that way.”

  So this was the witch’s magic. Trenton couldn’t believe his eyes. She’d cut herself and her blood stirred around as if it were alive. Instead of debating the issue, he sprinted toward the next house where the Grangers lived, but he was afraid they’d dawdled too long. The front door was locked, but one of the two garage doors had been pried open. Only a few inches of space allowed someone to crawl underneath. The scent of werewolves lingered in the air, a few pups and an adult. No humans or tainted werewolves had been here.

  “Is anyone here?” He peered into the darkness.

  The reply was faint. A whisper from the far end of the room. “Back here.”

  He looked around first to make sure no one was coming for them before he slid underneath the opening. In the back, he spied what appeared to be a woman and two children hiding behind an old car. The heat in the garage was stifling, but the family appeared to be too frightened to care.

  “We need to go. Now.” Trenton ushered them out of the corner. He picked up the smallest child and gathered her in his arms.

  Something’s coming up the road, Trenton. Charly words pressed urgently through his head. He sensed her rising fear. Move your ass.

  “How many?” He put down the child so he could try open the other garage door. It wouldn’t budge. Even if they crawled under the door, they couldn’t outrun their enemies carrying kids.

  “Five or six?” she yelled. “Does it matter? They look pretty pissed, too.”

  He groaned then rested his gaze on the car the Fields hid behind. His day had nose-dived into a massive shit-pile. “Time to get a new ride. Everybody in the car. Charly, get out of the way.”

  The family that lived there, the Grangers, had a ’56 Chevy wagon. It wasn’t in the best shape, but luck was on their side: Mrs. Fields fished the keys from their hiding spot. The Chevy was a piece of shit, but the junk heap got them the hell out of there with a group of infected wolves coming their way, that was all that mattered. Trenton scrambled inside and Mrs. Fields and her kids jumped in the car ahead of him.

  “Don’t fail me, damn it.” The car started on the third try, the engine rumbling to life while shaking the whole frame.

  Trenton flipped the gear into reverse and slammed his foot on the accelerator. The heavy steel body held as they crashed through the garage door.

  He expected to find Charly waiting by the road, but he found something else. Violent winds whipped the acacias along the street. Cloud cover darkened the sky as thunder grumbled overhead. Not far down the street, Charly stood in the center of the lane with her bloodied palm in the air. Another deep cut on her wrist streamed blood onto the concrete. Gusts of wind pushed back the advancing werewolves, and they rolled down the road when the gusts picked up to tornadic levels.

  His mouth dropped open, taking in her power. What else could they do?

  She’d bought them precious time. He pulled up next to her and shouted her name over the wind. At first, she didn’t answer.

  “Charly, get in the car!”

  Finally, she turned to him, her face pale and eyes blank. Lowering her hand, she opened the door and fell into the backseat. Mrs. Fields got out of the car to help her sit.

  He turned the car around and careened down the street. After a few quick turns, they peeled through the neighborhoods. He tried to focus on their destination instead of the rising smoke from many houses along the way. The sounds of gunshots in the far distance. The town of Hadley had descended into madness in a few short hours. They turned around a corner and entered the schoolyard. Soon enough he’d get Charly and the Fields family to safety.

  But as he steered the car closer to the school, his gut went cold.

  Bright flames swallowed the bus.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  She’d used far too much blood. Too much.

  Charly slumped against the backseat as the beat up Chevy veered out of the schoolyard. Where the hell was Trenton taking th
em now?

  “Where are we going?” Her voice was hoarse. A mere whisper over the roar of the car’s dying engine.

  Trenton didn’t answer so she tried to speak to his mind. A nifty gift from their bonding. Where are we going?

  His head tilted to the side a bit. “This car’s about to die, and we need somewhere safe to hide. The only place I can think of is Ben’s house. After the last attack, he reinforced parts of his home into a military compound.”

  “I heard about that,” Mrs. Fields said from the front seat.

  One of the children snuggled closer to Charly, and she couldn’t help but bite her lower lip. If she hadn’t come, this wouldn’t have happened. Things weren’t supposed to turn out this way, yet they had.

  She should’ve told Trenton to leave her behind with those crazed werewolves. She was no better than them.

  The little girl rested her hand on Charly’s arm. With a concerned expression, the child looked up at her.

  “Did it hurt when you kept those bad people away? You look so tired.”

  “Don’t worry about it, kiddo.”

  Charly expected she’d need to bleed to death at this point to do anything of significance, but her wounds closed moments after she cut them open to cast the spells. Her werewolf side wasn’t ready to die.

  Maybe that meant she had a chance to fix what she had broken. It was up to her to find out who was behind all this. Nothing about this had seemed right. Only another witch could do all this, which meant she was the only one who was capable of undoing the damage. She straightened up in her seat.

  There was work to do.

  Ben had a decent-sized place not far from Emma’s home. The cul-de-sac boosted four houses far off from the connecting street, which pretty much made the place nice and tucked away.

  When they pulled up in front of the house, the front door opened, and Emma peered out. “I had a feeling you’d remember about Ben’s fort, Trenton. Move it, people.”

  “How long have you been here?” Trenton asked when they were safely inside. The house was quiet—thanks to the closed windowsills and wooden boards over the windows.

  “Not long.” Emma glanced behind her to the kitchen. Beyond her, an ajar steel door most likely led to a safe room.

  Ben waltzed out of the kitchen with a shotgun in hand. The gun was pointed at Charly.

  She took a step back. Oh, shit!

  The click of the safety echoed through the room. Ben growled. “She needs to leave.”

  “Damn it, Ben.” Emma mumbled another curse. “This isn’t the time for bullshit.”

  Trenton pushed Charly behind him. His hand automatically moved the gun in his holster.

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what you think,” Ben said with a sneer. “Em, you told me what she is and I have an idea what she’s capable of doing. I don’t care how many of those things are out there. She’s welcome to join them.”

  Mrs. Fields gathered her children closer to her and edged toward the door.

  “Stop it, Ben.” Emma’s voice was grated, her pitch sharp. “You’re frightening the children.”

  “They should be frightened. If they knew what she was they’d run away, too.”

  Trenton’s hand twitched and Ben’s gun switched over to him. “Not so fast, cop. Take out the gun and kick it over to me.”

  “Don’t do this, Ben,” Trenton said with rising fury. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

  “I regret the day I didn’t kill that bitch the moment I saw her. Now hand over the gun before I open a hole in both of you.”

  Trenton slowly removed the weapon, placed it on the floor, and then kicked it over Ben who retrieved it. During the whole time, Charly couldn’t keep her eyes off the barrel of the gun as it twitched every time Ben moved. Then everyone froze as scratches hissed along the boarded up windows and the front door.

  Time’s up.

  “Are you done talking? I’m tired of this.” Emma grabbed Mrs. Fields’ wrist and pulled her with her daughters toward the safe room in the kitchen. Charly continued to stand behind Trenton, refusing to further aggravate Ben. The sounds outside rose to a horrifying crescendo as more of the cursed werewolves gathered at the openings of the house and scratched at the walls attempting to get inside.

  Even though Charly couldn’t see into the kitchen from her vantage point, she heard the thunder of footsteps downstairs. She released a held breath. Mrs. Fields and her girls were safe now. Emma stormed back up the stairs and joined them.

  “We need to get downstairs to the safe room now.” Emma glanced from Ben to Trenton to finally Charly. No one so much as twitched while the clawing noises from outside drowned out everything else.

  “She can burn in hell with all of them sick dogs outside for all I care,” Ben murmured. Slowly, he backed into the kitchen while pointing his gun at Charly. A part of her knew she deserved to stay here to fend for herself, yet the scratching coming from every window and wall told her the worst was waiting for her outside. Many more werewolves in town had been infected, and now all of them were most likely ascending on this final house.

  Trenton edged her ever oh-so-slowly toward the kitchen. From the galley kitchen, Ben waited at the head of the stairs with one foot inside and the other out. He gestured for Emma to come inside.

  “We don’t have much time,” Ben growled.

  “Grow the fuck up,” Emma thundered. “The pack leaves no one behind.” Her eyes flashed fury. She advanced on him but stopped when his finger rested on the trigger.

  “You wanna take me down?” He offered a twisted smile and jerked the gun in their direction. “You come try, but I’m not letting that witch bitch in with all these women and children—”

  “Go downstairs, Emma,” Charly said sharply. “I’ll guard everyone.”

  “Not happening. You’re not well.” Trenton’s gaze never left Ben’s.

  Another house-shuddering groan filled the room as something massive rammed against the front door.

  “Emma, Charly and I will take our stand here,” Trenton said. “You’re the failsafe in case they get past us.”

  The two exchanged a look as if a decision had been made without words.

  “Good luck, Trenton.” Emma turned to speak to him before she walked down the stairs. “Kyle should be here by dawn. If we can hold out that long, we’ll have backup.”

  “Understood.”

  The steel door closed with finality. Charly closed her eyes and leaned against the granite counter as the loud clicks of the locks engaged. As the bangs from someone ramming against the front door reverberated against the walls, the scratches against the boarded up windows reached ear-bleeding decibels.

  There was no place to go. No way out except to wait and pray. Or fight. She wasn’t in any condition to do either.

  “Charly?”

  She snapped to attention from the sound of Trenton’s deep voice.

  “Let’s get you armed. We don’t have much time.”

  The noises outside didn’t stop as Charly followed him out of the kitchen and into the dining room. When she spotted the far wall, her mouth dropped open. From one side to the other, there was nothing but weapons in the hutches of china cabinets.

  “Most folks collect Wedgwood china...” Her voice trailed off to a whisper.

  Trenton opened one of the glass doors and checked inside. “Ben has particular tastes and a bank account large enough to support a spending habit on eBay.”

  Charly’s eyebrow rose. She couldn’t make out everything Ben had, but she spotted knives, swords, and shields. Trenton grabbed something and drew her near to put it on.

  “These are gauntlets,” he explained as he tied one to each of her arms. “They’re a bit big on you, but if I tie them on just right they should provide a bit of protection in case they try to bite you.”

  He then added protective braces to her calves over her jeans. The damn things were heavier than expected. “If one of them comes for you, protect yourself by raising yo
ur arm like this.” He demonstrated and tapped the gauntlet on her arm. “They are lined with steel. It might be strong enough to break a werewolf’s teeth.”

  He also added a knife belt and sheathed the blade. “We’ll have you conquering the world in no time.”

  Immediately, her mouth opened and closed. He should’ve meant more than the world to her—especially after he stayed by her side. “I’m sorry about what I did to you.”

  “What did you do to me? Are you sure it’s your fault?”

  “I’m not sure of anything right now. Nothing makes sense.” The madness outside made it hard for her to focus. “I kissed you and enchanted you, but,” she gestured around her, “none of this make sense.”

  “Which means it wasn’t your fault, right?”

  “I believe so, but honestly, I just don’t know. I need to figure that out.”

  The unanswered question swelled between them. Instead of tackling the answer, they separated to check the doors and windows for security breaches. Once they determined everything was holding up, they eventually took a spot in the foyer where they could keep an eye on the front door and most of the windows. Not the perfect spot, but it was better than nothing.

  “Talk to me,” Trenton pleaded. “Tell me what you know about the witches and why they came to Hadley. There has to be a reason, other than killing everyone.”

  Just the idea of telling him everything caused stabbing pains in her chest. She didn’t want him to know about her life with the coven or the dangers they all faced with the blood demons, but Charly answered him, not holding back on the grisly details: the coven structure, the blood demons, the hunt for new guards, and even about her aunt Amelia’s failed attempt to control Liam.

  “That doesn’t sound too good,” he mumbled.

  “That’s just the top of the mountain—there so much history. A world outside of this one.” A hard thump from the living room window made her glance that way. “Will they ever give up?” she whispered.