Crimson (The Silver Series Book 3)

by Cheree Alsop

  A footstep brushed the carpet. I pushed down the unfamiliar instinct to jump up and defend myself and merely opened my eyes and turned my head toward the sound. Mouse stood at the doorway, his arms folded, then down at his sides, then his hands clenched behind his back as though he didn't know what to do with them.

  “Hey, man.” I pushed up slowly to face him.

  Mouse shifted nervously, then took two steps toward the couch. “I-I don’t know how to thank you for saving my life.” His voice was soft and unsure, his eyes troubled.

  I shook my head. “You don’t have to thank me. You’ve been there for me. I was just repaying the favor.”

  He dropped his eyes to something metal he held in his hands. “I haven’t done much.” He crossed the last few steps to the end of the couch and held out the object in his hands. “I’ve been working on this for a while.”

  I leaned forward and took it, breathing through my teeth against the pain in my chest. It was much easier to ignore it when I was fighting for my life or planning rebellions. Sitting still made it almost unbearable.

  The object looked like a simple panel of steel about two inches wide and a few millimeters thick. At one end, two razor-sharp blade edges came out of the metal to make a smooth, deadly knife.

  “This is amazing. Did you make it?”

  I met Mouse’s eyes and was surprised to see him smile. “You think it's just a piece of metal with blades at one end and you’re amazed.” He chuckled. “I’m a bit deeper than that.”

  He shocked me again by sitting on the couch next to me and taking the metal back. He glanced at me. “Can I, uh, see your arm?” he asked hesitantly.

  I held it out. He hit it with the metal and before I could flinch, it wrapped around my wrist like one of the slap bracelets that used to be popular when I was in grade school. The blades slipped back inside so it looked like a seamless metal band.

  “See, and it locks, so no one can take it off you if you don’t want them too.” He pushed on both sides near where the blades hid and I heard an audible click before the metal sprang back out into a flat line with the blades out. “The best part is that it’ll fit even if you phase into wolf form. You don’t have to worry about losing it!” He looked at me with an expression of excitement at his creation.

  “That’s amazing,” I repeated, at a loss for a better response. I slapped it back on my arm. It fit securely and the seam was practically invisible. To the casual observer, it would look like just an armband. I put my fingers where he had shown me and the band snapped straight with the blades open. I ran a finger along them. The metal was very strong and the edges as sharp as a razor.

  “Tempered stainless steel,” he explained, thrilled by my obvious appreciation of the gift. “It won’t rust or tarnish as long as you keep it clean.”

  The thought of going back to the labs unarmed had unnerved me more than I cared to dwell on. Being able to sneak a weapon in relieved some of the tension in my shoulders and I sighed. “Thanks, Mouse. This’ll help more than you know.”

  He gave a small smile. “I know.” He looked at the knife one more time, then slipped from the room as quietly as he had entered.

  Chapter 21

  The thought of possibly seeing Colleen again made it hard to rest. I wanted to go to her and make sure she was safe, to see if she was really alive as Tannin said. I had no reason to doubt him after what I had been through, but I also didn’t underestimate how badly he wanted me back at the labs. I wouldn’t put it past him to make up the story of Colleen to get me back. The want for her to be alive warred with how much I didn’t want her to go through everything I had. No matter what happened, her death and her pain were my fault. I fell into a fitful sleep with images of her lost and scared as Grace had been.

  “You like Mouse’s present?”

  I opened my eyes to see Jet leaning in his usual place by the doorway. I held up my arm now encircled by the unfamiliar weight of the knife. “It’s awesome. I can’t believe he made it.”

  Jet glanced through the door. “That scrawny werewolf knows more than he lets on.”

  “It’s a good thing he's not an Alpha,” I said with a chuckle that sent a sharp pain through my chest. “We don’t want a mutiny.”

  Jet gave a small, rare smile. “Follow me.” He left through the door.

  I didn’t want to get up. Exhaustion from the lack of sleep, the fight, and Mrs. Carso’s wonderful lasagna weighed my limbs, but Jet wouldn’t wait and whatever he needed to show me was important. I pushed up slowly from the couch and followed him through the kitchen to the backyard.

  Jet pulled something from his pocket and twirled it in the air. A butterfly knife spun open, then he flicked his wrist and closed it again. “Ever use one of these?”

  I shook my head.

  He slipped it back in his pocket, then bent down and pulled a knife from a sheath around his ankle that I hadn’t known he wore. The blade looked sharp and deadly.

  “This is more like the one Mouse made. Get used to it and it can save your life.” He motioned for me to take off the wrist band. I unhooked it and compared the knives. Jet’s was almost as long as the band. Looking closer, I saw that nearly imperceptible groves fitted together to create the smooth blade. They made it possible for the knife to flex in order to bend around my wrist. I shook my head in wonder.

  “It’s only as good as the man wielding it,” Jet said. His lips twisted into a grimace as though he had swallowed something horrible and he froze for a moment. Something dark and shadowed crossed his eyes and at that instant he didn’t look like the Jet I knew; it was as though a cold, calculating, wild creature stood there ready to tear out the throat of whatever demon it faced. He took a steeling breath, then shook his head, and met my eyes. “Sorry,” he said quietly.

  I shrugged as though I didn’t know what he was talking about and gripped the knife tight in my right hand. “So I hold it like this?”

  A half smile of gratitude at my tact brushed his lips and he focused on my hand. “No. Hold it loose so you can maneuver it.” He adjusted my grip so that my fingers wrapped the handle closer to the bottom. “This way you can flip it if you need to.” He flipped his knife backward then forward to show me.

  I tried to do the same and dropped the knife. I picked it up, gritting my teeth at the pressure against my chest.

  Jet bit back a smile. “Okay, nothing fancy then.” He put the knife back in my right hand and took me across the yard to a well-worn punching bag hanging from a pecan tree. “Imagine this is a person.” He took his knife and traced it across the bag with the back of the knife so that it didn’t cut the material. “The main kill areas are the throat, stomach, kidneys, and thighs. If you can, aim for the jugular. That’s the quickest and easiest way to dispatch an attacker.”

  He slashed high across the bag with a quick efficiency that didn’t waste any movement. He then spun around, slashed across the stomach region, came back across where the thighs would be, and flipped his knife like he had shown me and stabbed the bag in the back where the kidneys were located. A gleam of humor touched his eyes. “Jaze might not be happy about that.” He pulled the knife from the bag and crouched to slip it back into his sheath. “You try it.”

  I slashed across the throat area, then tried the spin he had done and ended up nearly impaling myself. I tripped and he caught my knife hand. “Nothing fancy.”

  I took a steeling breath and nodded. “Right. Nothing fancy.” I stood square to the bag and bent my knees slightly like he indicated to improve my balance, then ran through a series of simple slashes while Jet performed them next to me.

  “Repeat this. Neck, stomach, then pull him close for a stab to the kidneys. Neck, stomach, kidneys.”

  “What about the thighs?”

  He shook his head. “Too much to worry about. We only have a few minutes for you to commit this to muscle memory. Follow.” He sliced with an imaginary knife high, brought the knife quickly back and sliced at the middle, then drew his a
rm back and toward him as though stabbing an attacker low in the back. I repeated the chant aloud, then in my head, following his movements until I had them down.

  “Now step back and do them with your eyes closed.”

  I glanced at him skeptically.

  “You have to see your attacker. It’s one thing to maim a bag, but a whole different one to cut through flesh and bone and leave your attacker bleeding to death on the floor.” His tone turned slightly bitter. “You have to be ready to kill or you won’t be able to do it when the time comes.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be ready,” I said honestly, picturing a man dead at my feet by my own hands. It had been one thing to defend myself in the heat of battle, but planning to kill someone made my stomach turn over.

  A wicked gleam came to his eyes. “That’s where I come in. Just keep yourself out of harm’s way and we’ll be there to handle the rest.” He gave my grip a skeptical look and adjusted my fingers on the blade, then said. “Close your eyes and do it again.”

  I bent into a partial crouch and practiced with my eyes closed. I pictured the men who had attacked Grace at the motel, then imagined Dr. Tannin in all his smug superiority as he hurt her. I slashed neck, stomach, and stabbed kidneys over and over. My chest burned, but I pushed it down, adrenaline pumping through my veins at the thought of protecting Grace and ending the terror that had become her life.

  “Kaynan.”

  I barely heard the voice and continued fighting, the knife an extension of my hand and enemies falling with every slash until blood flowed past my feet.

  “Kaynan!”

  I jumped in surprise and turned with a backslash. Jet caught my arm and disarmed me of the knife faster than I could blink. I stared at him, my aching chest heaving. “They’re ready to go.” He slapped the wrist band back on my arm, then waited for me to lead the way.

  “I thought I wasn’t a threat,” I joked, walking in front of him.

  “You weren’t.” He let the words linger as we made our way back into the kitchen where the others waited.

  ***

  My chest throbbed on the way to Charles’ veterinarian clinic. I rubbed the bandages and stared out the window.

  “That thing still bugging you?” Taye asked from the middle row of seats.

  I shrugged, then winced. “It’ll go away eventually.”

  “Only if you give yourself a chance to rest. Strain slows the healing process, so try to relax.” Her eyes narrowed with concern.

  “We’re driving him to get another microchip implanted, then he’s going to the labs like a wrapped present. I don’t think relaxing is high on his list,” Brock said with a laugh that sounded forced.

  “It’s not on any of our lists,” Jaze replied from the front seat. He glanced back at me. “But Taye’s right. Try to take it easy so you’re in the shape to fight when it comes to it.”

  “When?” Nikki asked from the Taye’s other side.

  Jaze nodded. “There’s no way they’re going to let Kaynan go free again with or without his sister. It’ll be a fight; we just need to be ready for how bad.” He looked back at me again. “The Hunters and werewolves are assembled and waiting for our call. As soon as you give the signal, Mouse’ll give them the coordinates. We’ll arrive at the same time.”

  “How do I give the signal?”

  He held up a small plastic container with a tiny metal object inside. “Meg got this from the Hunters. It monitors location as well as sound. Shout loud enough and we’ll come running.”

  “What if I can’t shout or they find it and destroy it?”

  “If we lose the signal, we’ll take that as a signal. Regardless, we’ll track you to wherever you stop. Hunters will be tailing you from the drop-off and they have instructions to keep you in sight no matter what.” He tipped his head to indicate the back window.

  Surprised, I looked back to see a dark blue car and a red truck behind us. I turned around again feeling slightly better about our odds.

  “The chip is just to give you the chance to see whether your sister is really there. If you haven’t found her within an hour, we’re coming in regardless,” Jaze concluded. I followed his eyes to the box of weapons Roger had packed in the SUV.

  ***

  “Nice to meet the man behind the wolf,” Charles said with an amiable smile. His bright red hair was still mussed and he wore pajamas as though he had jumped out of bed the second Jaze called. Taye, Nikki, and Jaze sat in the room with me while the others waited in the SUV. Charles held out a hand and I shook it.

  “Thanks for meeting us after work,” I replied.

  He adjusted his glasses. “Just happy to help.” He peered at the vial on the counter and pursed his lips. “I normally don’t deal with this type of microchip. Ours is implanted with a syringe, but this is a bit larger.”

  “Just put it in however you can that’ll be the least noticeable. I plan to have it removed when we’re done.”

  He nodded, his face clouded with concern. “I guess I could put it in a small incision. You guys tend to heal quickly enough that I don’t think anyone could tell.” He glanced at my chest. “Do you need me to look at that, too?”

  I looked down and saw that the bullet wound had bled through the bandages. There was a dark red circle on my green shirt.

  Taye’s eyebrows lifted in concern. “It might be a good idea. It shouldn’t be bleeding through bandages at this point.”

  I sighed. “No, it’s just having a hard time healing. Jet ran me through some knife maneuvers and it kept reopening.”

  “I could put some glue in it to help keep it shut,” Charles supplied. “Might help the reopening problem.”

  I wanted to tell him not to worry about it, but logic said it wouldn’t be a good idea to meet Dr. Tannin already bleeding. I nodded. “That would be helpful, thanks.”

  Charles wiped my arm with cotton covered in a cold liquid. “I’ll just use a local. It sounds like you’re going to need your senses about you.” He slid a needle into my shoulder and I looked away. Pressure pushed against my arm. I looked at the others to distract myself.

  Taye watched the procedure with a professional, unconcerned manner, but Nikki held Jaze’s arm, her face slightly pale. She met my eyes and gave me an apologetic smile.

  “You’d think with my parents I’d be used to this stuff, but it still makes me nauseous,” she said.

  “That’s okay. It’s not exactly my cup of tea, either,” I agreed as the scent of blood touched my nose. The pressure let up and Charles put some glue over the small incision followed by a band-aid. He motioned for me to lift up my shirt, put glue over the bullet wound as well, and covered it with fresh bandages. I gave him credit for not asking where I had gotten it.

  “You should live,” he said, settling his glasses more firmly on his nose.

  “Thanks, Doc. Hopefully I’ll be back soon to have the tracker removed.”

  He nodded, his expression worried. “I’m expecting it. I wish you guys would let me help.”

  Jaze shook his head. “It’s not safe, but we appreciate your assistance here.”

  The veterinarian put a hand on my shoulder. “Just come back in one piece.”

  I smiled, touched. “Thanks.”

  I followed the others back to the SUV and climbed to my customary seat in the back. I stared out the window while Mouse drove us to Roger’s to pick up Dr. Tannin. My heart thrummed in my chest and my ribs ached, but my shoulder had stopped throbbing. I pulled off the bandage and was satisfied to see that it had healed. At least something was working the way it was supposed to. The thought made me smile. Somehow in the midst of all of the chaos, I had learned to think of my werewolf body as normal.

  Mouse pulled into the Valen’s driveway. I pushed up, but Mouse slipped from the driver’s seat with a rectangular device in his hand. “Let me check first.” He waved the object over my tracking device and it beeped. He then touched the screen and typed something in with a small keypad. After a few seconds, th
e object beeped again, revealing a map of our location. Mouse nodded, his eyes on the monitor. “As long as they don’t find the chip, we’ll be able to follow you across the entire United States if we have to.”

  “Reassuring,” I said with a hint of sarcasm. A smile touched his lips, but he didn’t look up.

  I reached for the door.

  “Wait,” Jet said. He slipped off his black shirt and handed it to me. “Better to hide weakness than to give them an easy target.”

  I glanced down at the blood stain on the front of my shirt I had already forgotten about. I pulled it off with a bit of effort and handed it to him. He gave me a quizzical look and tossed it on the seat beside him while I pulled his over my head. I paused, then lifted the shirt and removed the bandage on my chest. “Better to pretend like it doesn’t bother me, right?”

  Jet nodded, a hint of approval in his eyes.

  I tossed the bandage on top of the shirt and opened the door. “Time to get the mad scientist,” I said with forced nonchalance.

  Dr. Tannin limped beside me back to the SUV and climbed in with an air of his normal confidence. He gave Mouse an address and the werewolf started to drive. The tension in the vehicle was so thick no one spoke, and I could feel the dislike my friends held for Tannin tangling with my own.

  “We're here,” Mouse said quietly after a half hour. He pulled into a dark parking lot next to a grocery store that had closed for the evening. Two black cars waited at the other end of the lot, their lights off and occupants waiting motionless.

  I took a steeling breath and opened the door, then waited for Dr. Tannin to climb out. The walk across the parking lot with the doctor in tow felt like one of those dreams where the destination kept getting further away; my heart thundered in my ears by the time I reached the dark-suited men who stepped out to meet us.