Coveted

by Shawntelle Madison

  A wolf rushed in to bite one of my legs while another tried to claw at my snout. Hot pain, slick and startling, sliced up my leg. Another wolf chomped down on my paw and pulled backward. I hoped for a moment that perhaps my father or brother would come to my rescue—but no one came. I had to get out of this fight on my own.

  I twisted around and nipped at the wolf on my leg, freeing it so I could attack the other wolf, but he pounced on my back and bit through the fur. Everything around me turned into a blur. All that mattered was this moment, this chance to prove myself worthy to take down another enemy. But yet another attacker joined the wolf on my back. I held strong, not even crying out from the impact.

  My attackers’ crushing weight pushed me to the ground. I didn’t want to give up. I still had the fire from Nick’s spell. But even magic had its limits, and I could feel my life leaking away as the wolves snapped at me, growling and hissing.

  I surrendered to the feeling, and prepared myself to join my grandfather, who roamed in the great forests with God.

  But then the stench of death blanketed the field. Grubby hands reached across my body, yanking and pulling at the wolves on my back.

  “Get off!” a gravelly voice grunted.

  One of my attackers left me to strike at this new presence, while the other one, far more stubborn, still clung to me. Until one moaning voice turned into many. One pair of hands turned into several. They clawed at the wolf, ripping and shredding without abandon.

  I stumbled away and watched in horror as Quinton’s zombie horde descended on the invading pack. Just like before, a strange mist slithered through the trees after the zombies, enough to cover the battlefield like a tattered death shroud.

  The zombies, with their limbs haphazardly stapled, clipped, or however the hell Quinton had stitched them back together, flopped about trying to catch the invaders. Surprisingly, Quinton’s minions were able to tell which wolves didn’t run with our pack. Their slow, staggering gait made them easy targets to overwhelm, but when a group of them managed to surrounded one of the enemy werewolves, it wasn’t pretty.

  From my perspective on the ground, chaos continued to swirl around me. While the South Toms River pack scrambled with the Long Island pack at one end of the field, the Burlington werewolves regrouped to outwit the zombies. This pack had speed as its advantage, and now the swarm of dark-brown wolves used it to herd the zombies into a vulnerable position. They were about to be slaughtered.

  But Quinton hadn’t allowed his children to march into battle alone. Among the surrounded zombies stood their master, wielding a massive club, and wearing a suit that wouldn’t be out of place at a funeral. The Bends’ janitor swung his weapon at any enemy who ventured too close into the inner circle of zombies. He had impossible odds, but he continued to fight.

  The battlefield swam in and out of focus. My wounds continued to bleed. But it was no time to pass out yet. I had work to do. I shook my dizziness away and reentered the fray.

  One werewolf wrenched the club from Quinton’s hands, so he whipped out a shotgun from his back holster. Gunshots filled the air as I leapt on a werewolf on the outer ring of the zombies’ attackers. My move was foolhardy to say the least, but by this point I was already bleeding from too many places to count, and every invader was on my shit list.

  The wolf I pounced on yelped when my claws pierced its coat. I could almost sense its pain, since I had plenty of my own to deal with. By the time I snapped its neck, with one vicious bite, its cohorts surrounded me. Ten of them. Ten sets of yellow eyes. Ten sets of bared teeth.

  The first one crept forward. And then the next.

  I said a silent prayer, thanking Nick for his spell. At any other time I would’ve given up or frozen on the spot with fear. Right now, I wanted all of them to come for me so I could take even one of them out before I died.

  They didn’t bother circling. They all rushed in my direction and pounced in a wave of sharp claws and fangs. Death rode not far behind them. They left me no chance to defend myself. The mass of bodies pressed my snout into the dirt. I tried to resist. To fight.

  Suddenly a bright light enveloped the forest floor. I had to close my eyes from the painful flash. The wolves on my back flew off. Everything around me was lifted from the ground and then violently slammed back down.

  The air rushed out of my lungs, and my body sagged to the cold ground. What the hell was that? Within the fog of my jolted brain, I spotted a man in white. His form faded in and out, like a menacing wraith. But it was Nick wielding a grand white staff. Like an artilleryman with his machine gun, he blasted the Burlington werewolves with bolts of white lightning. The air sizzled and cracked as burnt flesh met his spells.

  From the edge of the forest, others emerged and jumped into the fray. Abby the Muse, dressed in full Roman centurion’s regalia complete with sword and shield, jumped on a wolf. She brought the edge of her shield down, slamming his head into the ground.

  Our saviors just kept coming as I lay quietly, trying to heal. Raj came to Quinton’s rescue. He used his bare hands to grasp two werewolves and throw them across the field. They landed with heavy thumps, their bodies twitching from the impact. Heidi’s weapon of choice appeared to be the trident. And though the werewolves came at her in droves, they also had to reckon with Lilith, who took up the rear with a scimitar to slice them to ribbons. I must have been only partially awake at this point. Had I really seen a succubus with a scimitar? But wield it she did. I tried to rise but my body needed more time.

  Tyler, dressed in armor with a battle-axe, came behind Heidi and Lilith to watch their backs. To my surprise, the dwarf wore an angry snarl as his sharp axe sliced into the midsection of an attacker.

  The dwarf wasn’t the only person who acted out of character. Abby cackled and stabbed a wolf with her sword. I’d never seen her look so animated. The quiet woman had vanished, leaving behind only a fierce intensity.

  Meanwhile, Nick culled the Burlington pack, allowing the South Toms River pack to continue forward. All the while, the earth shook every time the Long Island pack drew close enough to fall under his levitation spell.

  I tried to keep my head up to watch the battle, but I quickly weakened. The soft pine needles offered a comfortable pillow while I rested. Even with a battle raging around me, my body begged for oblivion.

  The shadows behind me shifted, alerting me to danger. Before I could react, a set of clawed hands snaked out to grab my legs. I scrambled to hold on to something, but couldn’t. The claws gripped tighter, yanking and pulling me farther away from the pack. I raked the ground in a panic, watching as the field turned into dense forest.

  Not long after, my captor flipped me over. The rough jerking motion slammed my head into a tree. Dizziness swept over me again, and I couldn’t focus my vision long enough to make out the dark form that hovered over me.

  “You made this far too easy for me,” the hoarse voice whispered. Not the voice of a man or a wolf, but deeper. A man who had already initiated the change, but still had enough self-control to halt the process in the middle. Only a very powerful werewolf could do such things.

  The man pressed his face against my snout. A blanket of hair touched my face. I’d smelled this person before. “It was so simple to capture you, like plucking fruit off a tree,” he said. “And now I’m going to pluck your little heart out for what you did.”

  The sound of a knife leaving a sheath caught my breath. In response, I changed back into human form. My human eyes squinted to view my attacker, but I didn’t need to see him to know it was Luther, the leader of the Long Island werewolves.

  The tip of the blade slid up my thigh and nicked one of my wounds. My body jerked in response. Luther released a choked laugh.

  “You think I’ll let you live after what you did to my boy?” he sneered.

  Oh, God.

  Up close I caught the scent of death on his breath. In werewolf form he’d killed many tonight. I tried to think of anything other than his face. Yes, I’d
seen a face similar to his before. In the same state, with death in his eyes. Blood everywhere. A death at my hands though. Everything had come full circle after what I’d done to his son.

  The flash of memories came in a blinding rush—memories of blood that flew before my eyes like vicious spears. Blood that I’d spilled for Deirdre.

  When the cold blade pierced my side, I didn’t cry out. He raised the blade again, but a werewolf with a tawny coat burst through the trees and crashed into us.

  Thorn managed to land on top of Luther, but Luther drew his legs up to toss Thorn off. They snapped and swiped at each other, fangs bared in a battle for dominance. The knife lay not far from me. I wanted to get up and help, but I’d lost too much blood.

  The two alphas continued to attack each other, sharp teeth bared in their primal struggle to tear each other’s throats out. Then their fight brought them closer to me. I tried to crawl out of the way, but couldn’t. Thorn landed on me with a heavy thump. He quickly realized his error and tried to roll off, but then Luther found the knife and lost no time exploiting his advantage.

  With a rough yank, he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me a few feet away. “Step back or I’ll slit her throat.”

  Thorn changed back into his human form, his dark eyes focused on Luther.

  “I have every right to take her, boy,” Luther hissed.

  “You hide behind a female,” Thorn said. “Your business is with me.”

  Luther laughed. “I’m not the one who’s hiding something. Perhaps your little lover hasn’t revealed all her secrets.” He jabbed my neck with the tip of his knife. “How about you tell him about the blood debt you owe me, Natalya?”

  When I didn’t speak, he jabbed me again. Needles of pain cascaded down my neck into my back.

  My legs wobbled before I spoke. “It happened in New York … I met his son during an editorial meeting. He was one of our authors.” I kept my gaze trained on Thorn. “During the meeting, I sensed something was wrong with him. Something I couldn’t place …”

  “Get to the point!” Luther snapped.

  “I saw him again not long after. The night Deirdre disappeared.” My voice turned bitter, and I didn’t care about the knife at my neck. Let the bastard hear it all. “And when I found that piece of shit with that girl, I lost it. He’d hurt her, so I took pleasure in hurting him.”

  The stab wound in my side ached and gave me pause, but I continued through panted breaths. “I killed Luther’s son five years ago. And I’d damn well do it again.”

  Luther’s hand twitched. Debt or not, he planned to end my life now.

  Thorn rushed at us, slamming Luther’s hand to knock the blade away from my neck. We collapsed on the ground again, bodies rolling and arms grasping to control the knife. I’d grown far too weak to help, but I fought for it nonetheless.

  Suddenly I saw Luther plunge the blade into Thorn, who roared as the knife pierced his belly.

  The second time the blade went down, I cried out. I wanted to take Thorn’s place. To give up my life and accept the consequences of my actions.

  I twisted and clawed at Luther, only to have him viciously kick me away. I managed to crawl toward them again as he stabbed Thorn a third time. I squeezed my eyes shut when the knife met flesh. I gathered everything I had to try again.

  Suddenly, a violent wind blew through the trees. Was it Nick? The stench of rot and ozone came from where Luther attacked Thorn. Along with the smell, the wind swirled up leaves and pine needles into a whirlwind around us. The forest’s stiff trunks appeared to shift and bend. To warp as what little heat in the air disappeared.

  Luther, positioned over a chanting Thorn, stared with wide eyes as the blade in Thorn’s chest began to move. To slowly rise from it.

  Luther stumbled backward, spewing curses as he tried to run. Then Thorn’s hands snaked out—one to snatch Luther and the other to grab the blade. In one swift second, Luther sputtered and fell, the knife embedded in his heart.

  The Long Island pack leader crashed to the ground, and the leaves drifted to the ground after him.

  When I could find my voice, I asked Thorn, “What did you do?”

  Thorn didn’t answer, merely taking the blade from Luther’s body and tossing it aside. The wounds on Thorn’s chest continued to close, leaving me wondering what old magic he knew. All the signs were there. The chanting. The telltale ozone from the magic. But I’d seen what had happened to my grandmother. What price would Thorn pay?

  “Will you be all right?” I murmured. “Are you hurt?”

  “Not anymore.” He brushed his fingertips over my mouth. Then he checked the knife wound on my side.

  I winced and slapped his hand away. “No need to check. I got the memo that I’ve been stabbed.”

  He chuckled. “Still the same Nat.”

  I had revealed so many things. How could I be the same Natalya he’d known? I’d killed the pack leader’s son. “What I said about Luther’s son—”

  “It’s over and done with.” His firm voice silenced me as he picked me up. I wanted to say more, but now wasn’t the time. I suspected that a talk would come later. My demons always came back to haunt me—in one form or another.

  Thorn returned me to the spot where I’d been resting before Luther’s attack. We’d both been stabbed, and yet Thorn managed to walk back to the pack with just a few scratches to show for it. My grandmother had some explaining to do about this old magic. Bigtime.

  I shut my eyes for a bit. Every so often I felt people prodding me to check my condition. With his wet snout, Alex poked my belly and I twitched for good measure. My father also came by, pushing me until I moved.

  By now the battle was over. The scent of blood and death littered the forest floor. The werewolves who’d survived now had to clean up the carnage and dispose of the bodies, for soon these dead wolves would resume their human forms—not the best thing for the authorities to find the next day.

  Before I could bask in the pit of my pain, I spied the ragtag bunch who’d come to our rescue. Nick stood off to the side healing Lilith. She had a heavenly smile on her face as the glow of his power bathed her body. I was sure the succubus would be grateful for his attentions for days to come—even if he didn’t especially want the favor returned. Tyler waited next to Abby. He cradled his bloodied battle-axe in his hands and smiled with glee, even through the pain of his wounds.

  I remained in my safe spot, under the branches of a tree. I didn’t want attention. I just wanted to sleep. And after I’d slumbered, with time, I’d awaken renewed.

  Chapter 24

  You look like a cat beat your ass as comeuppance for everything dogs have done to them.” Aggie plopped down on the bed beside me.

  In return for Aggie’s kind words, I gave her the middle finger. Two would have been even more appropriate, but I was too tired. I was so tired I didn’t want to move.

  She poked me in the side. “It’s been a few days now. I’ve completely healed and I’ve come to kick you out of bed.”

  I groaned against my pillows. “Leave me alone. I mean, you don’t have to stay here anymore. If you need money for the bus trip, I’ll pay for it so you can head west.”

  Her anger burned so hot it practically seared me. I shouldn’t have said that, and I immediately wished I could take the words back.

  “Is that what you think? That I came here to say goodbye? After all this time we’ve spent together? I thought you knew me better than that.”

  “I’m sorry, Aggie. I didn’t mean it.”

  “In all seriousness, the pack is safe now. That piece of shit Farley even said you could stay here.” She chewed her lower lip. “You may not be part of the pack, but at least it’s still here if you want to join.” She shoved me toward the edge of the bed. “Now get off your ass. The Long Island werewolves are gone, and I told your aunt Olga we’d come downstairs and watch an episode of Santa Barbara with her in ten minutes.”

  I fought to keep my perch on the bed. The comfort
of the covers would hide me until I could face the world again. “I have werewolf hearing. I can hear that damn show from up here. Matter of fact, I’ve seen each episode often enough to repeat all the words.”

  “Be that as it may,” she yanked on my leg, “you’re starting to stink. So get your ass into the shower, wash your nasty hair, and come downstairs to dwell with the living.”

  I sat on the bed fuming while Aggie grinned, her hands on her hips.

  “My hair doesn’t smell that bad.”

  “Well, it sure as hell don’t smell like sunshine. Get your butt in there. Do I have to tempt you with the pie your grandma promised me?”

  “Promised you?” I wrenched myself from the bed. “I thought your name was Aggie McClure, not Aggie Stravinsky.”

  “Well, if Alex wasn’t married to that nymph, I’d have a ring on my finger, the way your aunts operate. I could’ve sworn while I slept I heard Vera talking about how I’d make a fine match for your cousin Leonard.”

  I put on a robe and slippers. “Cousin Lenny? That guy is fresh out of high school.”

  As she left the room, she snorted. “Well, at least I know that, if he can’t get a job, we can move back in with his parents.”

  At Aggie’s insistence, I survived the day in zombie mode. I sat diligently with the others watching TV but I was seriously distracted.

  What the hell was I going to do? My home didn’t have power yet. The contractors needed more time for repairs. I didn’t want to venture into town yet, even though I knew work would help me feel better. Already every werewolf I encountered looked at me with new respect. My grandmother had beamed at me as I came downstairs to join them, and Aunt Olga chatted me up during the show.

  But it was more than that. I’d survived the battle and the flood, yet my place in the pack remained out of reach. All I had was my family. Was that all I deserved?