Alpha Pack 7 - Chase the Darkness

by J. D. Tyler

  Jacee’s shoulders drooped. She looked so forlorn, Micah pulled her against him again.

  “You’re pulling rank, huh?” she asked.

  “You bet. Until this twisted monster is caught, we’re closing ranks around you two.”

  Micah hated it, for both of them, but he couldn’t blame the commander. He had to protect his people, and he couldn’t do that if they were miles away.

  Micah turned to his mate. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go to my quarters and rest while we take care of the packing? You worked all day and then had a scare. Some sleep will do you good.”

  “No. I don’t want to be alone, even though I’m not really alone in the compound,” she insisted. “I want to be with you. We can rest together, when we get back.”

  “If you’re sure . . .”

  “I am. Besides, there’s stuff a girl needs and she doesn’t want guys pawing through it.” She gave them a wan smile.

  Jax rolled his eyes. “God forbid we should have to touch the girly stuff.”

  Micah laughed in spite of the situation. It was good to see her bonding with his team. Even Jax. Who woulda thought it?

  Nick took the food to the lab, and then they were on their way in two of the Pack SUVs. The better to get more of their things. Dammit, he couldn’t wait until the killer was caught and they could concentrate on their relationship. To talk to Nick about building on that patch of land and look at house plans.

  He wanted so much to believe he had a future with his mate.

  First, he had to lay the past to rest.

  Eleven

  Jacee had never been so tired. Strung out. Stressed to the max.

  A long day at work, followed by being terrorized in her own home. Then a heart-pounding drive, glancing in her rearview mirror with paranoia dogging every mile, topped off by packing her things and moving the most important of them to Micah’s apartment at the compound.

  Not on her list of Top Ten Most Fun Days Ever.

  She was a wreck. Which was why, in hindsight, she lost her head when she found the bottle of myst hidden in Micah’s things.

  Exhausted, she, Micah, and their friends trooped into the dining room for a much-needed hot meal and to rest their tired bodies.

  She liked these people. They were warm and welcoming, and they knew when to give a person space.

  The meal went down fast, without her pausing to really savor it. But it filled the hungry spot, and she was satisfied. Her nerves were no less frazzled, though, and her mate took notice.

  “Why don’t we turn in, sweetheart? You look ready to fall over.”

  She shot Micah a grateful smile. “That would be nice. Thanks. This is one day that definitely needs to end ASAP.”

  He took her hand, and she let him pull her up. They said their good-byes and headed to his quarters—now theirs for a few weeks or months, at least. Once they were back inside, he pulled her to him, held her close. They stayed that way for several long moments while she just breathed his wonderful scent. Listened to his heartbeat.

  Never had she felt so safe. Not for years, anyway.

  “Get ready for bed, baby. Before you fall over.” Kissing the top of her head, he moved away.

  She felt the loss of his warmth immediately, but planned to get in some serious snuggling as soon as possible. “Okay.”

  Micah disappeared down the hallway into the master bedroom, and she heard the bathroom door shut. Following him, she went into the bedroom and, her hands on her hips, stood surveying the boxes full of their belongings everyone had hastily thrown together. Which one contained her toothbrush and face wash was anybody’s guess, so she dug in.

  A quick look in the first box revealed jeans and T-shirts, plus a few other tops. The second, pajamas, panties, and bras. The third—success. Her makeup case was there, and inside would be the items she needed to get ready for bed. As she lifted her makeup case out, however, something caught her eye.

  In the bottom of the box was a small black case. It appeared to be a man’s bag, something Micah might carry his toiletries in, but she’d never seen this one before. Placing her bag on the floor, she reached down, then paused, glancing guiltily toward the bathroom door. Inside, the toilet flushed, and water in the sink started running. She wasn’t a snoopy person and didn’t want to be that kind of mate.

  Of course, she was being stupid. Everything in these boxes was their stuff, so why shouldn’t she look? There was no harm in satisfying her curiosity.

  Snatching the bag, she unzipped the top and pried it open, peering inside. Normal items, as she’d thought. A couple of disposable razors and a mini tube of shaving cream. A toothbrush, travel toothpaste. Dental floss. A tiny bottle of cologne. Not much different from the contents of her own bag.

  Except for the small brown prescription bottle almost buried at the bottom.

  Hand trembling slightly, she held it up. Read the label. Even then, she couldn’t wrap her brain around what she was seeing. “Myst?”

  That couldn’t be right. Her mate had suffered through a hellish detox, and he was clean. He knew to stay far away from this shit, had let her believe he was doing fine. And yet here was proof right in her hand that he wasn’t fine. At all.

  “Hey, if you find the body wash, I want to . . .” Shirtless, jeans unsnapped, Micah stopped just outside the bathroom door. The cheerful expression on his face crumbled to dust, and he froze, eyes wide.

  “What the fuck is this?” Even as Jacee spoke those five words, she knew she’d started the conversation on the wrong track. But this was the final straw in an already craptastic day, and she was done.

  “Jacee, it’s not what it looks like,” he said hoarsely, taking a couple of steps forward.

  “It’s not? You mean you didn’t hide these pills? You didn’t swear you were going to stay away from them and then do the exact opposite? You didn’t lie to me? To Mac and your team?”

  “Baby, please—”

  “Tell me the truth!”

  “Okay! Yes, I lied!” He buried his fingers in his dark hair, his chest heaving. “But it was a lie of omission.”

  “And that makes it right?”

  “Of course not. But, baby, I didn’t take any, I swear.” His voice was pleading for understanding. “I wanted to, so badly. Just to help me cope, just one or two.”

  She flinched. “I thought these past two weeks have been as wonderful for you as they’ve been for me. Why would you need the pills?”

  “They have been! But that’s not what addiction is about. It’s the craving that’s driving me crazy. That’s what I’m having trouble coping with, don’t you see?”

  “No. How could I? Because you didn’t confide in me. You lied to me.”

  With hurried motions, he yanked his shirt back on. “I’m sorry. I wish I hadn’t kept them.”

  She pushed to her feet. “But you did, and you didn’t tell me. Didn’t trust me to help you.”

  “I do! I just wanted to handle it on my own,” he tried to explain. “Is that so wrong?”

  “Are you kidding?” She stared at him, incredulous, and her voice rose as she went on. “Now I know I have a mate who’ll keep things from me as it suits him. If I can’t trust you, what do we have?”

  The heartbreak on his face had her regretting her harsh words the instant they left her mouth. But she couldn’t take them back. Not fast enough to stop him from grabbing his jacket and motorcycle keys.

  “Micah, wait.”

  He shook off her hand and bolted, ignoring her pleas. She jogged after him, but he was fast, slamming the apartment door behind him. For a few seconds she considered going after him, but there was no catching him. Not when he was so upset. Besides, there was also no need to air their argument in front of other Pack members, which would surely happen if she caught up to him.

  No, best to wait until he returned.

  Please, come back, she said through their mental link. Let’s talk it out. I’m so sorry.

  Nothing. He’d already shut he
r out, then.

  Disheartened, she walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Over and over, she replayed the incident, and the knot in her stomach grew. She’d mishandled things from the start. If she hadn’t been so tired and strung out from today—

  No. That was no excuse for how she’d treated her mate. Instead of acting like an accusing bitch, she should’ve shown him understanding and support. He’d been through hell these past few weeks. Months, to tell the truth. How he was doing so well was a miracle.

  Yes, he had lied by omission. But it was totally understandable that he might hang on to a few pills and have trouble resisting the terrible craving. Mac had warned it wouldn’t be easy for him to stay off of them.

  Micah told her he had resisted taking them, and she believed him. He’d been strong enough not to give in.

  And she’d upset him so badly, making him believe she had no faith in him.

  “What have I done?”

  Saddened, disappointed in herself, she hung her head, barely noticing the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  * * *

  Christ, what a day.

  Nick was wrapping things up in his office, getting ready to join Calla in their quarters, when the vision hit.

  The argument between Jacee and Micah had changed somewhat. It wasn’t quite as vicious as his previous visions, because Micah hadn’t used drugs again. He’d taken that much of Nick’s and Mac’s warnings to heart, and it was a damn good thing.

  But the result was nearly the same. Nick knew instantly part of the vision had already taken place. The argument. Micah leaving, but not from Jacee’s house like before.

  Cranking the bike, Micah sped away from the compound. From the loss tearing out his insides. He ran from his ruined life, the destruction of his hopes and dreams. With the Pack, with his mate.

  He’d tried, so hard. But his mate didn’t trust him. God, he was in agony.

  And so he didn’t see the shifter with the huge wings swoop down from the sky, talons extended, intent clear.

  As always, Nick couldn’t scream. Couldn’t warn Micah of the danger.

  The creature hit Micah from the side, hard, knocking him from the speeding motorcycle. Micah went airborne, flying through the air for awful seconds—until he slammed headfirst into a tree. Falling to the ground in a crumpled heap, head at an unnatural angle, he stared into the sky. Struggled to breathe.

  And then stopped, brown eyes fixing on a point he could no longer see.

  Micah had left, but the attack hadn’t taken place yet. Nick knew it. He had only minutes to warn the man.

  “It’s not going to happen like that. Not if I can help it.”

  Snatching his cell phone, he called Micah. On the fourth ring, voice mail picked up, and he left a message. “Micah, the vision I told you about! This is it! Turn back! And for God’s sake, keep your eyes on the skies!”

  Hanging up, he sent a text.

  Turn back, and keep your eyes on the skies! My vision of you, it’s now, tonight. Call me.

  After he hit send, he got moving, sounding the alarm. The Pack was ready in less than five minutes, and they assembled at the SUVs. They didn’t question him when he explained his vision, their faith in his ability as a Seer and a leader was that unshakable.

  “What the fuck are we waiting for?” Aric growled. “Let’s go get my stupid brother-in-law before he gets his ass killed.”

  They climbed in the vehicles and took off.

  Nick just prayed they weren’t too late.

  * * *

  Speeding along the dark road, Micah’s brain was in turmoil.

  “If I can’t trust you, what do we have?”

  I’ve tried so hard. But my mate doesn’t trust me and I’ve ruined everything. God, this is agony.

  He had no idea where he was going. Or when he’d go back. Maybe he wouldn’t return at all, would just keep riding on to California or the East Coast. Anywhere but here, where he was nothing but a failure.

  As soon as he had the thought, he knew he wouldn’t actually follow through. His wolf snarled inside at the idea of leaving his mate for good, of giving up. The man wasn’t ready to give up either, hurt or not. He just needed to get out, clear his head.

  In his pocket, his phone buzzed. Ignoring it, he kept riding, uncaring of the darkness, wanting only to be part of it for a while. To disappear. But the device buzzed again, this time shorter, signaling a ping of voice mail. Not even a minute later, the buzz of a text. Someone was determined to reach him.

  Careful to keep one hand steady on the bike, he slowed his speed a bit, dug the phone from his pocket and punched the button at the bottom to light up the screen. He couldn’t maneuver the device enough while driving to actually unlock it and listen to his voice mail, but he could see the text was from Nick. He could only read the first part, but what he saw sent a chill of foreboding down his spine.

  Turn back, and keep your eyes on the skies!

  That was all the warning he got.

  Twisting in his seat, he tilted his head up to scan the night sky—and saw the shadow of a great, winged creature framed against the stars.

  “Fuck!”

  The beast dove for him, and he turned to face the road, bending low over his bike and hitting the gas. The action was too little, too late, and he braced himself. The impact hit his back and shoulder with the force of a speeding train, taking his breath away and unseating him.

  But somehow, instead of flipping over the handlebars, he managed to shift his weight to fall to the side, laying his bike down. He hit the ground hard, lost his grip on the bike and his phone, and skidded across the pavement, off the opposite side of the road, and headed for a stand of trees. There was nothing he could do but thank God he’d worn a helmet.

  And then his flight came to a gradual halt as he rolled to a stop on his back—right next to a tree. It was a miracle he’d missed it. But he needed at least one more to survive this.

  Because the monster, shrieking in triumph, was closing in fast, talons extended. Ready to deal out an early death. The figure loomed larger the closer it got to the ground. And God, the thing was fucking huge! Just before it struck, Micah rolled to the side, grunting in pain.

  The creature struck the ground instead of his body, and trumpeted in outrage. Sweat popped out on Micah’s brow as he tried to drag himself to put the tree between him and his attacker, but several broken bones and torn ligaments slowed his progress. White-hot knives tore through his thigh, and he was dragged backward.

  His fingers scrabbled in the grass and dirt as he desperately tried to find something to hold on to. Or a limb to jab at the monster. No, he needed to shift. To fight in his wolf form. But the precious seconds he needed to complete the shift were lost to him as the creature sank its talons into the vulnerable flesh of his torso, tearing at him.

  Screaming, Micah grabbed frantically at the tough hide of the monster’s talons. Tried to pry them lose. He might as well have tried to break free of bands of solid iron, big and strong as they were. Writhing, Micah gazed up at his captor in horror.

  The monster was everything Tristan Cade had described. Even worse. Whoever this thing was in human form was nowhere in evidence now. What once had been a majestic bird of some sort was mutated and twisted almost beyond recognition. The feathers, though brown and muddy, might once have belonged to a golden eagle. The resemblance to that beautiful bird ended there.

  The creature screeched, hatred in its red eyes, and struck. Agony ripped through Micah’s shoulder, and he screamed again. And again as it struck his chest, then his stomach, its jagged beak tearing. Rending flesh.

  The monster was taking him apart. Piece by piece. Making him suffer as Micah had once made him suffer.

  Perhaps he deserved this, after all.

  As the creature’s claws sank deeper, he thought he heard a familiar noise. Then he turned his head and saw the sweep of headlights coming on fast. Several vehicles.

  Nick. The Pack. It had to be, out
here in the middle of nowhere, so close to the compound. He could’ve wept, if he’d had the strength. Hurry.

  The monster, however, wasn’t so pleased. With an angry cry, it launched into the air—without letting go of its prey. Micah’s broken body was lifted into the sky, a piece of meat to be devoured by the one who’d carry out his vengeance.

  “Oh, God . . .”

  Head dangling, he watched the ground fall away. Saw the vehicles skid to a halt, his brothers pouring from inside. Weapons were drawn, and a series of pop, pop, pop’s ensued. The creature dipped, but then continued to rise.

  Far below, a man with red hair raised his hands and took aim. Aric.

  When the column of flame spiraled upward, Micah closed his eyes. He knew the instant the fire hit the creature. It screeched, its talons opening in reflex, ripping from Micah’s body.

  And he fell.

  Jacee. Please believe in me. Love you.

  Wind whipping through his hair, the darkness enveloped him, and he welcomed it.

  * * *

  The scene that greeted Nick and his men was like something out of a horror movie. And not something he’d be able to erase from his brain as long as he lived.

  Aric was at the wheel of the lead Escalade, Nick riding shotgun. Everyone was tense, anxious. Then the vehicle rounded the bend, and they spotted the trail of wreckage from the bike. And off to the opposite side, by a stand of trees, a monster of a creature, wings expanded to their full width, its prey pinned underneath enormous talons. The beast was striking Micah again and again, determined to tear him apart.

  “Motherfucker!” Aric yelled. He gunned the SUV, and it leapt forward, closing the distance.

  The beast was finally alerted to their presence and took to the sky, but it didn’t turn Micah loose. Nick could only watch as the younger man dangled limp in the monster’s grasp, and pray he wasn’t already dead.

  Aric brought the Escalade to a stop, and they jumped out, weapons blasting. The bird faltered but didn’t stop, and Aric raised his hands.

  “Don’t hit Micah!” Nick shouted.

  “I won’t!”