by Mark Henwick
“Smelling like vamps doesn’t help, but it’s the pair of you getting together that has him rattled.”
I’d already figured that out. Just not the reason. “But why?”
“Doh! You’re alphas.”
“What?”
“For God’s sake, Amber.” She rolled her eyes. “Alex on his own is as dominant as Felix. There’s barely a girl in the pack who doesn’t want to get her belly on the floor and ass in the air when he’s around. You can turn it on, when you want. The pair of you together would be like werewolf crack. Real alpha pairs make strong packs.”
“Shit.” That explained a lot about Felix’s stress level. “Just what the pack doesn’t need at the moment.”
She leaned in. “Listen, the guys don’t like to talk about dominance, and you didn’t hear this from me. Here’s how it goes. With Alex supporting Felix, it’s like Felix gets all Alex’s dominance added in to his. The pack loves it, and it plays well opposite the Confederation.”
“Okay.”
“Now, if Alex goes, Felix loses his support. Not terrible, but not good either. The Confederation might try and exploit it. But if you stay, the pair of you could challenge. Whatever happens, the pack would be weaker, even if only for a while, and the Confederation would come in like vultures to exploit that.”
I hated the thought of the Confederation coming in. “What if we both support Felix?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know if you can. But obviously, that’s the best result for Felix. It would make his status even higher.”
“Yeah, but—”
Ricky was trotting back toward us, waving at Alex, who’d just come back in.
Hell, all the girl talk worked!
Then I saw the cell in his hand and the look on his face.
“Got a call,” he said. “Silas spotted a group of Matlal. Move.”
Chapter 11
“Leave your car,” Ricky said. “We’ll go in mine.” His shiny Dodge Ram truck had the extra row of seats, enough space for all of us. Girls in the back, of course. He was making the tires squeal before we even got the doors closed.
“Where were they spotted?” Alex asked.
“Swansea, out by Commerce City. A diner called the Oaxaca, near 56th.”
Swansea was an untidy strip, bordered by the South Platte River and Interstates 70 and 270. It was flat, dusty and poor, sandwiched between storage depots and processing plants. The interstates ran by on viaducts and embankments, lifted up as if they were afraid to get their skirts dirty. Railroads ran through, as well as a couple of big roads, the unending Colorado Boulevard for one. It was an easy place to get out of, an easy place to watch. A pretty new Dodge like Ricky’s would stand out.
I tried to bite my tongue. Felix didn’t want me involved in this hunt at all. He definitely wouldn’t want me telling his people what to do.
Never get involved in someone else’s command. I’d had that ground into me in the army.
“How many?” Olivia said.
“Not sure,” Ricky replied. “Silas is there on his own. There’s a guy outside the diner that he thinks is a lookout. He doesn’t want to get any closer.”
“Have we got enough people to stop them from getting away or to isolate them somewhere?” I asked. Damn. The tongue biting had stopped working.
“Depends on how much time we have and how open we want to be,” Ricky grunted. “We’re spread all over tonight.”
“You’ve got trackers on their cars, right?” I just couldn’t seem to stop myself.
“No.” Ricky hunched his shoulders and turned onto Colfax. Great. Now I’d put him on the defensive.
He’d be taking Colorado Boulevard and that meant our ETA was fifteen minutes.
Alex talked briefly on his cell to another team, down near the University. They’d take the interstates and come into Swansea from the north, closing off the escape there, but it was going to take them half an hour to get in position.
Maybe too long, unless we delayed the Matlal Weres. “Well, you’ve disabled their cars, then?”
“We don’t know which cars are theirs,” Alex said.
“Guys, let the air out of some tires.” I sat forward, gripping Alex’s headrest. My hand sneaked around out of Ricky’s sight and rested against Alex’s shoulder. “If it makes you feel bad, you can always pump them back up afterwards.”
Alex and Ricky glanced at each other.
“We’re not sure we want to take them down there,” Alex said. “It might be better to follow them back to wherever they’re hiding.”
“If you had trackers, I’d agree.” I stopped. They’d survived this long without me—there was no reason to think they’d mess it up if I didn’t take charge.
Try and think constructively. What did I have to help? Oh, yeah.
“There’s a place not far from there they might have a bolt hole,” I said. “Old auto auction house on 64th and Jackson, just across the interstate. It’s one of Hoben’s, so they might know about it. It’s hidden behind a store selling farming machinery. There wasn’t any power usage when we were checking for Hoben last week, but they might go there.”
Ricky raised a brow. Alex hit a speed button on his cell.
“Ursula? Got a spare person?”
Ursula had something to say about that, and Alex held the cell away from his ear.
“Yeah, okay, okay. If you get there in time and can spare a person, have them look over the auto auction house on 64th and Jackson. It’s behind the…hello?”
He looked at the cell. “I guess she heard enough.”
“I like her already,” I said, and Ricky snorted as we turned north on Colorado.
“Are you guys carrying?” I asked. Alex and Ricky nodded. Olivia shook her head. “Remind me why you’re here?” I said to her.
“I don’t have the marque,” she replied, turning away to look out the window. “That might come in handy.”
“Like walking into the diner and counting how many there are?”
Her head dipped. “If it’s what the pack needs.”
Brave woman.
Not having the marque didn’t mean she couldn’t be identified as Were. She still had Were scents all over her. Maybe she could disguise that a bit, if we needed her to do something totally crazy.
“And of course,” Olivia said, “you’re here only as an observer.”
Crap. The scent of adrenaline was making me twitchy. She could see it.
Past Park Hill, and we were suddenly on the wrong side of the tracks. Malls and houses gave way to long, low industrial buildings as we crossed I-70. Colorado Boulevard merged into Vasquez. Streetlights became wider spaced. Off the road, tall security lights appeared in the night, shining down on acres of truck parks and depots. Sites were separated by stretches of chain link fencing, which trapped wind-borne litter. Plastic bags flapped like little white flags in the dark.
Alex nodded to the left. “Diner’s over there.”
He called Silas again. “We’re coming off on 56th,” he said.
“Don’t come in too close. Don’t do a drive-by.” Silas’ voice was tinny. “It’s a dead end.”
“So what ways can they get out?”
“If you stay up that end of the spur, that’s the only way for a car. There’s all sorts of paths, rail tracks and short cuts heading everywhere. We’ve only got a couple of people in position so far.”
“They picked this place deliberately,” I said. “There’ll be a lookout. How do you know he hasn’t made you already?”
As if in answer to my comment, Silas swore. “They’re moving. They must’ve spotted us. Shit! About a dozen. They’re going in all directions.”
“How many cars?” Ricky shouted.
“None. None.” I could hear Silas sprinting across gravel. “Shit,” he said again. “This is a cluster-fuck. Do what you can.”
Ricky skidded us onto the roadside, pebbles spitting out beneath the wheels. He and Alex were out of the truck like they were spring l
oaded. A group of four men from the diner were running down an open rail track, heading toward the I-270 underpass.
“Olivia, drive around to Commerce,” Ricky shouted back over his shoulder, jabbing his finger to point to the other side of the interstate’s embankment.
I didn’t like this at all. It wasn’t my idea of an efficient operation, but worse, we were just reacting, running blindly into an area we barely knew.
Olivia slid into the driver’s seat and dialed on her cell as she turned the truck around. “Ursula, four guys heading your way, Alex and Ricky behind them.”
She’d turned the Dodge slowly, which gave me enough time to see movement in the waste ground that Alex and Ricky had passed through.
Two figures followed them.
“It’s a trap!” I yelled and jumped out.
I heard Olivia cursing behind me, but I focused on the path ahead. I’d back Alex and Ricky against the four they were chasing. A couple more coming up behind and maybe more lying in wait? That changed the odds.
They had a head start and they were all werewolves. Even in human form, they ran quickly. I couldn’t be sure of overtaking them and I didn’t dare fire at the ones I’d seen chasing Alex and Ricky; it was too dark and all of them were lined up along the track. I didn’t want to risk hitting my pack.
I pulled the HK and fired a shot into the ground off to my right.
One pursuer turned his head at the noise and the flash, and shouted something to his friend. I hoped Ricky or Alex looked behind them as well, or Olivia had managed to call them as they ran.
I was running alongside a processing plant with huge, white silos looming out of the night. The fencing shook. One pursuer had had enough and raced off into the jumble of metal gantries and storage containers. The other redoubled his efforts. I could hear him yelling, but I couldn’t make out what he said. The Matlal Were had a comms system. We had a bunch of cellphones.
Frigging perfect.
The figures ahead of me split.
We were coming up to the bridge over Sand Creek. There was a running track along the creek that I had used before. There were now three directions they were escaping in: straight ahead towards the interstate underpass, left and right onto the track. There were only three of us chasing, and I didn’t want us to follow all of them. If this wasn’t a trap, it was at least a well-prepared escape route and they probably had some nasty surprises lying in wait.
At the bridge I paused, panting.
I could make out figures ahead and others moving in both directions on the running track. My wolf eyes let me see that much, but I couldn’t see who was who. Where was Alex?
Breathe. Close your eyes and breathe.
Hana?
Speaks-to-Wolves, my great-grandmother, had appeared to me in a dream vision and told me that my wolf spirit, Hana, would talk with me. Well, I’d had one word from her so far, and not even directed to me.
Breathe.
Of course I was breathing! I closed my eyes and let the night air slide through my nose. It was full, rich. Amazing! I’d never noticed how full before. Folded layer on layer, till it had all the substance of a river of molasses.
The night had a thousand tales to tell, but I was only interested in one.
Alex had run across the bridge. I followed him, holstering the gun and using my arms to pump for more speed. There was no way I was going to let him be suckered by someone coming up behind him. Ricky and Silas and the rest had to get on with their own battles. And Felix—either he understood I had to act, or he could go straight to hell.
I gained. I hit the underpass and the streetlights showed me the action breaking up again. The first group was down to two and they’d split left and right. Alex had gone after the one running right, which was a good move. Left was probably going to end up at the auction house and whatever welcome Ursula had set up for him there. Behind Alex was one of the guys who’d tried to set up the ambush, now realizing he was the one caught between opponents. His friend out in front didn’t look as if he was going to stop to help him out.
My body had settled down to the rhythm of the chase. I felt I had plenty of reserves. I didn’t care whether that was from my Athanate or Were. My eyes focused on the hot shapes of bodies running in front of me and my ears were alert to the possibility of being suckered myself, with someone trailing me. I kept expecting the Matlal chaser to break off, but he must’ve come to the conclusion this was the best odds for him. Did that mean they expected help up ahead?
We were cutting across sites. Like runners on some obstacle course, we vaulted and climbed fences, sprinted across yards and ducked between trucks and buildings.
A couple of yells followed us, but night watchmen were there to keep people out. By the time they knew we were around, we were leaving.
We came out on 60th Avenue and the lead Matlal charged across the junction with Vasquez, veering to the left towards an empty mall. Horns blared as a Mac truck bore down on Alex, making my chest squeeze, and then he was past. The second Matlal followed and I followed him, more convinced than ever that there was something ahead of us that they were aiming for.
A Dodge Ram came alongside, pacing me.
Olivia saw the Matlal Were ahead and gunned the engine. He snatched a glance over his shoulder, saw the Dodge. His steps faltered.
I still couldn’t use the gun, even if he headed away from the others. We were back in areas with people living nearby. People running after each other was one thing; firing guns was completely different. This had to be kept quiet.
Hunt!
Not a word. A feeling. My body was like a bell that had been struck with this hammer of a word. My vision clamped down on the werewolf turning in front of me, but my head was full of presence. Alex, others, even a distant Ricky and an unsure Olivia.
Pack!
A second strike rang through me. He was turning, turning.
Threat!
And I was on him, with human form and wolf brain. He was struggling to raise a gun, as slow as if he were drowning in mud. All caution thrown away to save his life.
I smashed his arm away. His gun dropped and skidded on the sidewalk as I lowered my shoulder and took him square in the chest.
He rolled.
Submit!
His tumble brought him upright, crouched with his feet under him. No pup, this one.
Submit!
His eyes told me he wouldn’t. He leaped for his gun, hand outstretched, touching it as I landed on his back, breaking ribs.
Submit!
His fingers closed over the gun and he started to twist around.
I wrenched and snapped his neck. Clean, quick.
There was danger ahead for Alex. I didn’t spare the body a glance. Olivia would have to deal with it. I sprinted after Alex’s scent. I’d lost sight of him at the next turn. The night around us felt full of unseen dangers. The thought I would be too late clawed at my guts, drove my legs harder and harder. My wolf scrabbled inside, wanting to be released, to run, to hunt, but I needed hands to shoot with, if it came to that.
I was on 62nd, pounding eastwards. I could see them again, a block ahead, their bodies trailing heat to my wolf eyes. It looked like smoke curling behind them.
There were gates; the Matlal werewolf turned and my sense of danger shot up. I called out to Alex, my voice weak from effort, but he turned too.
A minute later I reached the gates. It was a cemetery. The streetlights barely reached inside. I ran in, every sense straining to penetrate the gloom.
It was a trap all right. They’d used their comms to call in someone to wait in the cemetery. It was our good fortune that their backups were spread too wide and only two had made it here.
Still…Pack! Threat! It was like a huge wave, lifting me up and hurling me forward. I grabbed one of the Matlal Were and threw him into another, tangling them both.
I felt rather than heard Alex’s killing blow to my left and a cold joy flashed through my gut.
“Submit,�
�� I growled.
No use. The nearer one leaped at me, snarling, with a knife held stiffly out in front of him. He was a foot taller than me, probably twice my weight. That knife would go through me like a lance if I let it. I deflected his wild strike, crouching enough to get below his center of balance and as he fell over me, I surged back up. He flipped and tried to spin around, but I had a grip on his arm, dragging it down. Unable to control his arc, he crashed into a headstone and slumped at its base.
I turned.
The last one was backpedaling rapidly into the night.
The shadows seemed to grow solid and monstrous behind him. He thudded into something immovable that grew arms and reached and twisted. There was a sound like wooden sticks breaking. The Matlal werewolf fell to his knees. Blood spurted from his mouth and he collapsed into an untidy pile.
Oh, shit.
I drew the HK. What the hell was this?
“Amber, stop! It’s okay.” Alex called. “It’s okay.”
I held the gun in front of me, panting and shivery with adrenaline. I let the barrel rise to point at the sky.
Whatever it was snarled.
Alex was suddenly there, one hand held up to me and the other in front of him.
“Ursula,” he said, “this is Amber.”
There was no response. We were all panting: Alex, me and the smoky bulk that was Ursula.
“Back up, Amber.”
I carefully stepped back, making sure I didn’t go ass-over on a grave.
Ursula followed. She stooped over the body of the Were I’d fought, checked the neck pulse. There would be nothing.
By the time she stood straight again, my wolfy senses were piecing her together. I could smell Denver pack, and I holstered the HK.
When he was sure Ursula and I weren’t going to go head to head, Alex pulled out his cell and dialed.
“Cleanup crew,” he said without preamble. “Rose Hill Cemetery, Commerce City. Three bodies here.” There was a pause. “Well, find him, damn it. You know standing orders at the moment.”
He turned to me. “What about the other guy who was chasing me?”
