Mating Games

by Nikki Jefford

  Elsie smiled gratefully at Peter, but as she turned away, Jordan caught the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

  chapter fourteen

  Garrick led Raider and Ford through the forest to the Manama River. Birds called out all the while, as though wishing them well on their journey.

  Raider’s claws scraped the rocky terrain as they moved steadily up the mountain to the summit, where a cool breeze ruffled his fur. In the distance, houses sprang up like warts over dry, cracked earth, and fractured roads connected them in a maze that led back to the beginning, like a snake devouring its own tail. He sat on his hind legs between Garrick and Ford, watching the silent city below. Raider recalled Emerson’s warning about the humans with their binoculars. If they did have a pair, they wouldn’t see the trio of wolves who sat as still and patient as mountain peaks.

  The afternoon slid slowly away with the sky rotating above their heads, dragging the sun to the horizon to make way for the moon. Shadows fell across the city and dimmed the hilltops. The temperature dropped. The earth slipped into darkness while the skies lit up with stars.

  Raider’s throat swelled with the urge to howl. On either side of him, Garrick and Ford shifted restlessly before Garrick stood and led the way down the mountain to the wasteland on the other side.

  The sands below, usually scalding during the day, had cooled off as though doused in cool river water. The fine grains filled the spaces between Raider’s paw pads, grinding in with each carefully placed step. Garrick walked unhurried, slinking along stealthily, like a shadow slowly stretching across the landscape.

  By the time they reached the outskirts of the suburb, fire smoke tickled Raider’s nostrils and accelerated his heartbeat to a steady rumble beneath his chest. Sand gave way to uneven asphalt besieged by cracks crammed with weeds spreading with relentless tenacity to reclaim the earth. The vegetation adjusted itself to the neglected landscape from the grasses and dandelions pushing their way between cement cracks to the once ornamental hedges that had grown wild and bushy. Sporadic trees branched out against houses, the limbs scraping against wooden siding as though they were trying to push the homes down.

  “You cut us down to make way for your subdivisions and shopping centers, and now we’ll do the same to you,” they seemed to say.

  Ivy twisted up railings and filled in the holes of chain-link fences, creating leafy walls dividing the deteriorating homes. There were plenty more with rotting wooden fences and rusted metal latches. In many cases, portions of the wooden fencing had fallen over, allowing views into diminutive areas of overgrown or dead grass, caved-in porches, and corroded lawn furniture.

  They passed a home with junk strewn over a brick patio. Overturned chairs, a barbeque, plastic bottles, a bicycle, an umbrella, and a ladder littered the ground. The windows of the next house had been broken out, and a sun-bleached curtain hung limp at its side. With every structure they passed, the scent of smoke grew stronger.

  Excitement thrummed along Raider’s spine. He could sense the same anticipation radiating off of Garrick and Ford, as though they were closing in on a herd of deer. All the unease from Wolfrik’s warning went by the wayside as instinct took over every organ of Raider’s four-legged body. His eyesight and hearing were sharp—as were his fangs. He was a predator, a creature to be feared, not one to flee or cower with uncertainty. Raider smacked his lips, and Garrick smiled beside him.

  The road tilted upwards, gaining elevation, and with it, the homes increased in size. Stone walls made up the bases of these dwellings, anywhere from three feet high to the ground story exteriors, giving way to rotted shingles and peeling paint on the outer walls above.

  The smoke originated from one of these imposing homes, drifting into the sky from a stone chimney.

  They split up as they neared the home, with Ford walking in a wide arc to circle round to the back of the two-story house while Garrick snuck in from the front, leaving Raider to take the left side where the garage was situated. That would give him an entrance, but he’d have to shift in order to open the door.

  Ears lifted, he crept up the sloped driveway, wishing a car had been left parked out front to provide him cover. Garrick had more cover slinking across the overgrown lawn, which is why Raider never expected what came next—the snap of metal, rattle of chain, and a gut-piercing howl.

  Father! Raider’s mind screamed.

  With a thundering heart and snarling lips, Raider dashed across the driveway toward the lawn.

  The crack of a bullet leaving its chamber boomed from the second-story window of the house and clipped the pavement less than an inch from Raider’s front paw. It ricocheted off the concrete, narrowly missing his snout. A second and third shot followed, exploding all around Raider as he yelped and dashed to safety along the side of the house. Ford was there with his fangs bared. Communicating briefly, Ford raced for the house across the street, taking cover before emitting a threatening howl. He repeated the warning from a different angle, getting as close to the front yard—and Garrick—as he could while maintaining cover. Raider only hoped it would keep the humans from sending someone outside for Garrick. While Ford kept them distracted, he would sneak inside from the back entrance and hunt the bastards down.

  Raider shifted, standing on shaky legs. He pressed his back against the rough brick wall and walked against it sideways, as much for stealth as avoiding traps likely hidden in the backyard. The home had no fencing, almost as though it had been chosen for the very purpose of luring wolves in.

  Raider recalled what Wolfrik had said about humans wanting to capture strong shifters for their fights. At least that meant they wouldn’t shoot Garrick, not as long as they had him securely shackled in one of their barbaric traps.

  Fury coiled like a snake inside Raider’s stomach, ready to strike and devour his enemies whole. Like a lizard, he crept against the wall slowly. Along the way, he came to a shovel propped against the wall—the human savages must have left the tool out after digging holes for traps around the house. The wood stick chafed Raider’s palms when he tightened his fists around the long handle then forced his grip to loosen, lest he break it in half. No, he needed the shovel to bash in the brains of the humans within. He couldn’t think of a more fitting justice than to end their lives with the tool they’d used to harm his father and perhaps many more wolves before him.

  At present, Raider used the shovel to poke at the ground in case the humans had buried traps against the outer wall of the home, ever cautious even though Garrick’s piercing howls urged him to charge blindly forward.

  He made it to the back of the house without setting off any traps. As soon as his feet touched the smooth, solid stone patio, he lifted the shovel and held it at his side, the broad blade a foot off the ground.

  The more Garrick cried out, the more eager Raider was to bury the blade in someone’s skull.

  A shot rang out, stopping Raider’s heart until he heard Ford’s enraged yipping in the distance. Another shot exploded, and again Ford bellowed, but not in pain. Their plan was working.

  Switching the shovel to his left hand, Raider’s fingers closed around the knob on the back door, but it didn’t turn. A smile of malice and amusement curved his lips before he twisted the knob so hard it broke. With all the howling and snarling up front, Raider’s break-in was muffled to all, including his own ears, which rang with the yips of pain, fury, and gunfire. His feet made no sound over the polished wood floor. The light scent of smoke wafted in the air, not all of it making it up the chimney. A quick glance around showed no movement in the large open living space, and the ruckus from outside allowed him to walk up a carpeted staircase unnoticed to the floor above.

  The smell of mildew mingled with smoke, tickling Raider’s nose hairs. At the landing, doorways opened into rooms, two of which faced the front of the house.

  Raider took a step forward, gripping the shovel handle tight. The floorboards g
roaned beneath his weight on the next step, but Ford had the good timing of howling at that moment. After the next step, Garrick’s yelps ceased. Raider froze in place.

  “What’s it doing?” came a loud male whisper from the room closest.

  “Shifting,” a second male answered.

  Raider willed his heart to stop beating inside his ears like a drum during full-moon ceremonies. He wanted to hear everything the humans were saying, and either he’d missed their next string of words or they’d gone quiet.

  The next voice was Garrick’s. “Sons of whores!” he screamed.

  “Damn, it’s a male. What now?” The man’s voice was closer, clearer, as Raider took advantage of his father’s outcry to advance on the room.

  “We have no use for him. We’ll have to kill him.”

  Raider charged into the room with a bellow, swinging the shovel at the closest man who whipped around, his jaw gaping open as the steel blade clanged the side of his head. He went down like a giant sunflower bent from its lower stalk and fell to the ground with a thump. The second man, who had been crouched at the window aiming his rifle, turned and fired. Scorching pain burned along Raider’s upper left arm. He hissed. With no time to assess the wound, he lunged forward, dropping the shovel to yank the rifle by the barrel out of the man’s hands, tossing it toward the hallway, out of reach from the one human left standing. There was a smaller firearm on the floor beside the man. He dove for it, but Raider was faster, shoving him against the wall and pounding him against it with his right fist. His knuckles grazed the man’s cheek as he leaned away then wrenched free of Raider’s brutal grasp. Up close, Raider could see the man was about ten years older than him, but the shadows didn’t hide his muscles and broad shoulders, unlike his lanky friend who lay unconscious on the floor.

  The man was a formidable opponent. He lifted his fists and crouched into a fighting stance. There were deep slants on either side of his lips where deep wrinkles formed, as if from a lifetime of frowning. Two more cut across the edges of his cheeks near his nostrils and around his eyes as though his face was swallowing his eyes, leaving behind narrowed slits. The hair on top of his head was brown and draped over one side of his forehead, while the scruff on his face was sprinkled with gray.

  “You want to dance, wolf? Let’s dance,” he said in a hardened voice.

  “I’d rather bash in your head, like your friend over there.” Raider grinned.

  The man’s eye twitched, but he resisted checking on his buddy.

  “How many of you are there, huh? At least three. Any females with you? I’d be willing to let you and the one down in the trap walk away in exchange for a female wolf.”

  Raider snarled. “What do you want with a female?”

  “The same thing you do, I reckon.”

  Grinding his teeth, Raider clenched his fists into tight balls of toughened skin. “I’m going to tear you apart limb by limb.”

  “You won’t be the first to try.”

  The man’s steely gaze was unnerving, but not enough to hold him back. Raider swung his fist, but the man ducked at the last second, jumped up, and smacked Raider across the face. Sparks shot through Raider’s brain like a burning strip of bark in a bonfire.

  With a thunderous roar, he charged the man, only to be sidestepped and pushed from behind into the wall. The deteriorating plaster cracked apart against the force of Raider’s body, and a painting fell, landing forcefully on top of his toes. Searing pain zipped across his left shoulder as it made contact with the warped wall, reminding Raider that this wasn’t the time to lose his head.

  This human was smart to use Raider’s own anger against him. The man could have punched him, but he’d slapped him instead to get him to react in a blind rage. Raider had played right into his scheme.

  He’d always resented the “all brawn and no brain” assessment many of his packmates placed on him, yet here he stood, proving them right when it mattered most.

  With his toes screaming and shoulder burning, Raider’s nostrils flared, but he forced himself to keep his distance and anticipate the human’s next move. The man stood watchful, doing the same.

  A howl from outside shook the walls.

  “Raider, let’s go,” Garrick yelled in a strained voice.

  But Raider couldn’t leave without killing both humans. A cool calm washed over him like the waters at Skyler Falls. Breathing evenly, in and out, Raider locked eyes on the man and curled his fingers into fists.

  The man nodded in understanding. “Only one of us walks out of here alive.”

  “Raider!” Garrick screamed again. His voice sounded further away.

  Ford gave a howl from the distance. Raider recognized the summons, the call to join them and flee these forsaken streets. The fingers on Raider’s left hand loosened and twitched over his thigh.

  He approached with even steps, his eyes locked on the human. Once he was close enough, Raider swung one fist and followed it with a second. The human deflected the first with his arm, but the second one clipped him in the jaw. The man gave a grunt then smashed his forehead into Raider’s. Bright spots swarmed his vision, and he blinked rapidly to regain sight, holding his arms up to protect his face as the human’s fists smacked at his jaw and cheeks, landing ever closer to his eyes.

  The man stomped on Raider’s foot, his heavy boot crushing his exposed toes. Raider roared in pain, swinging blindly at the man in outrage. This time, his wild movements found their mark. He pounded the man on the face and kneed him in the groin. The human yowled and doubled over.

  As he dove after him, the man’s head jerked up and he spit on Raider’s face, getting spittle in both of Raider’s eyes. Jumping back to protect his toes and blinking furiously, yet again, Raider wished he had time to shift and end this exasperating human’s life in one bite.

  The man he’d knocked out moaned and clutched his head, but lay otherwise motionless on the ground.

  Once his eyes cleared, Raider charged the standing human, ducking down to ram into his gut, which sent him backwards to the floor, and Raider along with him. He landed on top and pounded the man’s face with his fists.

  With a grunt, the human rocked side to side, making it difficult for Raider to keep his balance. The man twisted violently and nearly pitched Raider off, but he caught himself just in time—palm burning against the carpet. The human used that moment to jab a finger in Raider’s eye.

  “Shit!” It stung with the fury of a wasp. Raider’s eyelids squeezed closed, and tears leaked out.

  The man rolled sideways to his hands and knees and crawled toward his smaller gun by the window, but not before Raider grabbed him by the ankle and stopped his progress. Still, the man stretched his arms forward, fingertips brushing the gun. He kicked back, his boot slamming into Raider’s chest, knocking the wind out of him.

  Wheezing, Raider grasped at thin air, trying to get ahold of the human, but he’d scooted his way to the gun and would have it in hand within seconds.

  Raider only had a split second to make a decision. If he stayed, he’d make an easy target up close, and this man had no intention of taking him alive. Switching off his desire to fight and kill was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done, but as survival kicked in, he ran from the room before the human had a chance to turn around.

  He took the stairs down two at a time, expecting a bullet to rip into his back at any moment, but Raider ran fast. His feet pounded over the wood floor below and straight out the back door. He didn’t pause. He didn’t slow. He ran along the outer wall, the way he’d come, only stopping when he reached the side of the house, knowing the man could be at the window with his gun, waiting. No sound of pursuit from behind meant the man must have resumed his position watching the front yard. Returning the way he’d come, up the paved drive, wasn’t safe.

  Raider would have to take his chances crossing to the house next door an
d hope he didn’t fall into any traps. He took slow steps, studying the dark ground for signs of recent unsettling. With every step, he nudged the ground with his bruised toes, sending a silent prayer to the moon to guide him safely across the tangled lawn to the shelter beyond. He chose to cross the void in human form so that he had only two feet to worry about rather than four, and perhaps even more importantly, hands to pry apart the trap if he was unfortunate enough to step in one.

  With the moon’s guidance, he made it across to the next house, his heartbeat quickening. He took the night air into his lungs in great gulps as though hoarding oxygen before diving under water. The tips of his fingers followed the jagged wall of rock to its edge where a wood fence slanted backward, but nevertheless stood in his way.

  A low whine in the distance caught Raider’s ear.

  He walked along the slanted fence until he found an opening and dashed into the overgrowth within the fenced walls. He hurried across the backyard to a wooden door that gaped halfway open, held in place between clumped grass and wildflowers.

  On the other side of the fenced door, Ford stood on four legs, ears pointing straight up, watching Raider intently as he crouched to the ground. As the shift transformed Raider’s body from man to wolf, the ache in his feet and face abated and the sting along his arm disappeared. Ford led Raider to his father, a couple of streets away. Garrick let loose a low growl as they approached, holding his front leg off the ground, the left paw dangling and bloody. They ran slowly, allowing for Garrick’s injured foot, not stopping until they’d crossed the hills and reached the Manama River. The sky had lightened. After drinking from the cool waters, Ford and Raider hunted, bringing a rabbit back for Garrick, who sat beneath a tree licking at his bloodied paw. As soon as they dropped the fresh kill in front of him, Garrick ripped into it with his fangs, staining his snout with its blood.

  Garrick ran with renewed vigor after that. Raider howled to let their packmates know they’d returned and were coming through. They followed the main path, where it was easier to run steadily. Howls of greeting arose through each territory and chorused through the hollow.