Alpha

by Kim Faulks

  I tapped the Jeep’s brakes and plunged through the overhead branches, following the pickup through the eerie shadows. My stomach tightened, head throbbed. I had no clothes and this was the perfect place to silence someone for good.

  I leaned over and probed under the passenger’s seat. One jerk and the tape came away. The Jeep’s tires slipped, finding a well-worn rut as I dragged my hand out from under the leather, gripping the Glock.

  There was a go-bag in the rear seat stuffed with a bulletproof vest and enough clips to unleash a fair battle. I scanned the trees. If these sonsofbitches expected me to go down without a fight, they had another think coming.

  I had something they didn’t. I knew these woods, and I knew the wolves that once lived here. I knew their stories of fragile cliffs and terrain too rugged to cross. Red flared, forcing me to brake hard, driving an unseen pick into my head.

  My grip on the gun slipped. The crimson lights seem to blur.

  Something’s wrong…something’s wrong with me.

  The thought slipped through, as my hand slipped on the wheel. The tires hit the edge of the groove, and bounced the car.

  I punched my foot for the brake and missed. The engine roared, tires bit, bouncing over the ridge of the track. I yanked my foot from the accelerator and slammed on the brake. My thoughts were slow, reactions fucking slower.

  And then she slipped into my head, along with a thousand other thoughts.

  Was she out here somewhere, hurt…dead?

  The thought lingered. Not dead…no, not dead.

  I wouldn’t allow that to happen. I saved her once and I’d save her again.

  My grip tightened on the wheel. I fought the sway and corrected the car, riding the worn path down the slope until I hit the bottom of the hill.

  A small shack came out of nowhere, hiding amongst massive pines. The green pickup was out front, driver’s door open wide.

  I swung the wheel to avoid hitting the ass end and pulled to a stop beside the old truck. The Jeep’s engine pinged and hissed, smothering any sounds as I switched off the ignition. Fear tickled the back of my neck as I reached for the door.

  The spark of a flame came to life through the window. I gripped my gun and pushed open the door.

  My heart raced, filling my ears with the deafening roar as I yanked the rear door open and reached for my bag. The yellow straps of my bag blurred. I shoved my hands through the opening and hefted the vest free.

  The Kevlar settled like a weight as I slid my head through the opening. Cold air slipped between the straps to touch my chest. I had no time to feel the cold. Hate and rage burned like fire through my veins. I gripped the door and eased it shut.

  I reached into the bag and pulled out a fist full of clips.

  They knew I was here.

  They knew I was coming.

  I wasn’t leaving—dead or a-fucking-live—until X was safe and in my arms.

  I lifted my head, found the faint glow of a flame through the window, and headed for the cabin.

  11

  X

  Asphalt crunched under my bare feet as I stopped in the middle of the road. I turned my head, taking one last glance at the house. Sleep, Alpha…

  My pack…my mate.

  Those words hummed warm around my heart under the icy shroud of Hate. I clenched my fist around the hilt of the thin blade and inhaled the burn.

  The kitchen knife was all I could find in the dark. I ached for a weapon, something real, something like my grandfather taught me to use.

  A car echoed in the distance. High beams cut across the open field where the workmen gathered during the day. But Diamond wouldn’t come for us by car. He’d come in the shadows when the night was at its peak. He’d come with claws drawn and the excitement on his breath.

  He’d come to kill Alpha and take me alive.

  I’d fight…like I always did.

  Rage and hate would win against lust…for a while at least. But rage was a different beast to Hate. Rage was filled with fire and fury, but Hate was cold, calculating. Hate came for you in the dead of the night. Hate slipped the tip of a blade between your ribs and watched while the life ebbed from your eyes.

  Hate was cold…so very cold. I shuddered and tore my gaze from the house. My chest ached. Somehow, I was leaving my heart behind in that small, dark room, curled against his chest.

  I dropped my head and shoved through the first bank of trees. With each step, my wolf came closer, stretching out lean muscles, taking tentative sniffs of the air. The faint trace of rabbit’s blood still lingered, but that wasn’t the scent I was after.

  It was the musky stench, the one who smelled of sickness and greed. It was the two wolves I wanted dead.

  You have such beautiful hair…

  A shudder trembled my knees. I gripped the branch and stopped. He can’t hurt me…not anymore—not while I had…Hate.

  My fingers slipped from the wood. I skirted the area; my wolf scented the air, finding the smells down low, amongst the dirt and the rocks. I dropped to my knees and denim scraped the ground.

  I pressed my fingers into the dirt. Pine needles stuck to my fingers. The rabbit’s panic was still alive, its energy lingered staining the air. My heart picked up pace, thundering like a wolf at full speed. I licked my lips and tasted blood.

  Pointed fangs carved through flesh. I wanted to eat, I wanted to run…I wanted to hunt. My wolf growled and the rumble spread through my chest. She was close…closer than she’d been in a long time.

  I closed my eyes, and the silver sheen of her stare glinted like steel. Her head was down, ears flattened, dark lips rose with the snarl. She flicked her gaze left, toward the ground. Nostrils flared, dragging in the raw, feral hunger.

  The growl turned to a whimper. She didn’t like the scent, didn’t like the taste in her mouth. She didn't like what was coming…and neither did I.

  But Hate did. Hate wanted retribution. Hate wanted to relive all the screams and the torture…except it would be them instead of me.

  I shoved up from the ground and stepped to the side, following the musky scent through the trees. I walked until I lost the scent, and then picked it up closer to where the earthy scent sharpened to asphalt.

  My sneakers skimmed bitumen. I glanced over my shoulders. Alpha’s house waited in the distance. There were no streetlights down here…nothing but the empty dark and some part of me wanted to turn back—wanted to crawl into that house and never come out.

  But he needed me. He needed me just as the good part of my nature needed the bad. Alpha was good and honest. He’d kill to protect, but he’d never hunt down a beast. He'd never tear out its throat and he’d never live with that part of himself after.

  I would.

  I followed the street to the intersection. The trace was faint, other males masked the scent, but it was the two of them together. Diamond and the one I called the Whisperer. They branched off, turning right. I gripped the knife and scanned the brush. A faint howl echoed in the distance. I lifted my gaze to the half-moon hiding behind the bank of clouds.

  It was a good night to hunt. A crisp night, with icy teeth and the taste of hunger in the air.

  I kept my head down, moving faster, rolling my feet to quieten my steps as I left the new houses behind. The grass along the road was thicker here, the edge of the road not as brittle and these houses looked older. The paint not as crisp, blurring in the dark the longer I walked.

  The houses were getting smaller, leaving longer spaces in between one and the next. There were more scents around here, faded ones of young and old. The face of my grandfather echoed from some distant memory. This place smelled as he used to, ancient and old.

  A familiar ache settled deep. I shoved the memory down, under the numbing touch of Hate, and slipped amongst the trees.

  An orange glow danced through the window from inside a small cabin at the end of the road. Faint flickers came from one end of the house. A bedroom. Had to be.

  The door opened, fa
int voice filtered through. A woman’s voice…a familiar voice. I swallowed hard and dropped behind the bush as she stepped from the doorway. A black cowl covered her head, revealing the lower half of her face.

  Even if I were blind, I’d sense her.

  Goosebumps raced across my skin. My wolf panted and my mouth turned dry. The growl inside my head deepened, teeth shone white inside my mind.

  The redolent scent of blood carved through the air. A low, tortured moan followed, slipping through the open door before the Huntress yanked the handle behind her.

  She slipped through the night, head down, moving like a ghost. I strangled the blade and rose. Pine needles crunched under my feet as I took a step.

  Kill her, Hate whispered. Hunt her down and tear out her throat…

  The moan from inside deepened, drawing my focus to the door. Curiosity pricked the back of my mind. Alpha’s face rushed to the surface. He wasn’t in there…that wasn’t him.

  But it was someone.

  The thought latched on and wouldn’t let go. I traced the Huntress, finding her walking along the edge the road. She lifted her hand from under her cloak—pale skin flashed in the night—and in the space of a heartbeat, she was gone.

  My heart leapt with the sight. My breath left me in a hiss. Magic. Dark magic. Blood magic. All the warnings of my grandfather came back to me, about skin walkers that trod the line between this world and the next.

  And the Huntress was one of those people.

  Only the world she straddled was the demon world.

  She left nothing but questions behind. And those questions wore at me like a stone in my damn shoe. I stepped out of the shadows and headed for the cabin. Each step jacked my pulse until the boom in my ears was deafening.

  I crossed the dead-end street and the grass. My stomach clenched, throat tightened. I could smell him…the fetid stench made the wolf in me stand to fight. Nails turned to claws. I inhaled the air and stepped up to the landing.

  Low moans slipped through the cracks of this old house to reach me. I wanted to turn. I wanted to run…this was the enemy of all enemies.

  The one we were born to hate.

  The one we were born to hunt.

  I gripped the handle and bore down. Sparks of fear danced in my eyes, splashing the room with white, and then red.

  Only the white faded…and the red…didn’t.

  A guttural hiss wrenched my head to the corner of the room. There was a bag…a bloodied bag of something. White flashed from two tiny orbs. Something crawled out, no not something…a hand.

  I backed up. My hand went for the doorway, claws burrowed into wood.

  “Help me…please,” the bloodied bag whispered.

  I shook my head. The stench of Vampire was so thick it gripped my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think…

  A Vampire…they kept one here…tortured it. For what?

  Information…about the babies.

  A shudder ripped through my body. Did this thing know where they were? An unseen hand pushed my shoulder, forcing me to take a step back into the room. I glanced to the doorway across the room and stared into the glare.

  The kitchen looked small, but clean. White cupboard doors were open, revealing a neat row of four plates. Four plates. This cabin wasn’t meant for a family…it was meant for someone alone.

  Chairs were pushed into the doorway as though someone had left in a hurry. There was no warmth here…no touch of life. Only an empty feeling of someone like an undead.

  “Not…bad…” The Vampire whimpered and reached across the floor.

  His fingers were shattered, white shards of bone pierced the skin. One knuckle shifted under the skin and popped into place.

  I turned my head to look over my shoulder. She’d broken his fingers and then walked out—like she forgot a pot on the damn stove—like it was nothing at all.

  I wrenched my nails from the doorway and grabbed the door. “You know where they are, don’t you?”

  When I eased the door shut, my mind whispered, What are you doing? What…are…you…doing?

  “You know where they took the babies—Joslyn’s babies. You know…don’t you?”

  His eyes widened before he slowly shook his head. He curled his fingers, two refused to move, jutting out to the side—not yet healed.

  “Either you know, and you talked…or…”

  “Or he didn’t talk and we’ve no more use for him.”

  I spun at the voice and stared at the man in the doorway…the same man I’d seen hours earlier. “You?”

  He still wore the same black shirt, and gray slacks, although this time they were flecked with blood.

  “Me,” he answered and rubbed his knuckles with a bloodied rag.

  Behind him, a door closed. Footsteps echoed, and the Whisperer stepped into view. My stomach tightened. The blade in my hand was not nearly enough now. He smiled his sickly sweet smile. His gaze drifted to my head and stilled.

  A darkness descended, something hard and cold as his brow narrowed. He took a panicked step, sliding past the human, and stopped just inside the room. “What did you do to your hair?”

  The knife trembled in my hand. I took one glance toward the Vampire and spat. “What did he tell you?”

  There was only silence. Silence and fear.

  “Didn’t…,” the Vampire snapped, and droplets of blood flew into the air.

  His mouth drooped like melted wax as he spoke. He glanced at the two in the doorway and trembled.

  “You know where they are, Vampire, and you will tell us. One way or another we’re getting those babies,” the human commanded, and then he lifted his gaze to me. “And you…you’ve stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong for the last time. Kovac, take care of this one, once and for all, and don’t leave a trace of her behind. My…Marine seems to have grown attached.”

  “He’s not your Marine.”

  Cold eyes hardened. He took a step, shoving past the Whisperer to stop in front of me. “They’re all mine, even when they’re gone, they’re mine.”

  Disdain shone through, curling his lip as he dropped his gaze to my chest, and then to the knife. The huff of laughter was a slap to my face. “So you came here to kill…what did you think you were killing, exactly?”

  My gaze shot to my abuser. I wanted Diamond, I wanted anyone. “You…you stay away from Alpha. You leave him alone.”

  His bloodless lips smashed flat, the corners curled. He was all stone and ice, but underneath this carefully controlled mask was a river of molten anger, just waiting to burn everything he touched. “You stupid fucking bitch. He was never involved in the first place. He wasn’t supposed to be there…he wasn’t supposed to know…”

  Panic gripped my heart and squeezed. “Know what?”

  In an instant, the fire in his eyes was swallowed by ice. “Have your fun, if that’s what you want, and then dispose of the body. Not a trace, do you hear me?”

  He wanted me to what? Kill the Vampire?

  My heart slammed against my ribs. There was a second where I didn't understand, where the pieces didn’t fit, until the Whisperer turned and nodded.

  Click.

  The thunder of my heart seemed to fade. I wasn't the one doing the killing…I was the one to be killed.

  Have your fun. Have your fun. Have your fun…

  You’ve got such beautiful hair…

  The Whisperer stepped closer, eyes drawn to my chest. His reddened lips parted. Something inside him came alive with the images in his head. Some sick need that was born from all the dark, cruel things he desired.

  My hand trembled around the knife as the wolf stepped closer. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. It was always the same, always…the…same.

  I was bound by an unseen tether, strangled by unseen hands…

  My wolf cowered to the ground. Her tail flat, eyes lowered, subservient to the bitter fucking end.

  His massive frame crowded me. “You are still so fucking beautiful, did you know
that?”

  Thick fingers found my cheek. I lowered my eyes as my wolf rolled, exposing her belly. This was our way. Take me…do whatever you want…I am nothing…I am nothing more than…a thought, an image. I have no desires. I have no needs.

  “Take care of this and don’t take all night,” the human snapped. “We know where they’ll be now. I want to be there by morning.”

  “They’re not there!”

  I flinched at the Vampire’s scream.

  “They’re gone. You’ll never find them…you’ll never win!”

  Footsteps echoed, falling away until the thud of a door ended the sound.

  “You’ll never win…never…ever…win…”

  The Vampire stole my focus. I could feel those cold undead eyes watching while this man…this beast took and took and…took.

  Tears pricked my eyes. The Whisperer’s fingers slipped, gliding down my shoulder to skim my breast. Never win. Never win.

  The Vampire’s words swirled around in my head. The Whisperer leaned in, dragging the bitter scent of my fear in deep. My nipples puckered under his fingers, growing harder, tighter, while something inside me died.

  The knife slipped from my grasp. Steel buried into the wood with a twang. It was too late, it was all too late. “Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt Alpha.”

  He leaned in, heat radiated from his body. “Has my little wolf grown fond of the human?”

  Dance little wolf.

  That name was mine, it was special. He couldn’t have it, couldn’t touch it. He couldn’t speak it. A spark of rage lit up the dark inside me. “I’m not…not your little wolf.”

  That’s my girl, dance little wolf…dance.

  My grandfather’s voice echoed brighter than any star. I held onto that spark. I nurtured it, loved it…followed it all the way down to where the icy rage of Hate lay waiting.

  Like a turn of the tide she slipped into place, my body became hers, my mind…hers.

  The Whisperer covered my breast with his hand while his other went to his waist. The light tinker of metal was followed with the draw of a zipper.