I put distance between us.
Sascha closed it. “I’ll handle your problems. Because I want to.”
I scooted around the bed to the windows. “No.”
“So feisty,” he murmured around a smile.
My heels hit the window seat and I sat hard. Sascha blurred to stand before me. I stared at the outline of his abs under the tight white T-shirt before he lowered to a crouch, hands either side of my hips.
“Your jealous ex problem is solved,” he told me.
I shivered as his smooth voice curled my hussy toes. “Not jealous. Bitter.”
“Jealous. I’ve received more than a few letters from him. That night of our tour, he was watching us until we went into the backroom. Then he left.”
That was news to me.
“You were aware he was still there and watching us?” I croaked. I tried to remember if Sascha touched me in that time. I seemed to recall his hand on my lower back a few times—nothing bad.
Though if he knew Logan was watching, the Luther touched me on purpose.
He grinned lazily, and I forced my gaze from his mouth.
“It was in my interest for the relationship to end,” he said.
The werewolf was too close for comfort. “I don’t like being handled. In fact, I hate it.”
“I will protect you regardless.” He straightened, and I scooted from the window.
I followed him to the front door. “Call off your wolves, Sascha. The questions and bowing stop. Now.”
Sascha paused. “What will you give me for the boon?”
“This isn’t a game.”
“No. Not a game. Never a game.” He contemplated me. “Why don’t we look at it like… business?”
Business was business. I could do that. “Okay. I’ll answer one question each day for you until Sunday.”
“Three questions.”
“Two.”
“Two deep questions.”
I shook my head. “No deep questions.”
“Then the deal is off.” He opened the door, and I stopped it with my foot.
I glowered into amused eyes.
Whatever. He let me stop the door. I didn’t care.
“You can ask one deep question each day that I can choose to answer or not. Or two easy ones.”
He extended his hand. “Deal. A non-answer is an answer anyway.”
Dammit. “The pack is not to bother me at all.”
The werewolf stepped closer, and I backed away double time, causing him to grin.
“Here’s my deep question for the day, little bird.” His voice vibrated low in my stomach.
Eye contact never led to good things with this fucker, and I could never forget that he was a werewolf and dangerous. I fanned my lashes down.
The Luther leaned closer. “What will you do when you realise outrunning me is pointless? Guessing the answer haunts the best of my dreams.”
Frozen in place, I didn’t answer. Fear. Confusion. Anger. My mind couldn’t settle on just one emotion.
His stubble grazed my cheek. “Be careful in the grid tonight.”
23
The door of the white van slid open, and one of Ed Sheeran’s rap songs blasted out. Rhona sat behind the wheel and stewards our age filled the vehicle.
I brushed my hair behind my ear. “Hi.”
The shouted greetings hit me in a wordless wall. Cameron clapped me on the shoulder as Wade dragged me into the van.
Rhona met my gaze in the rear-view mirror. “It’s Andie’s first game, everyone. Give her a cheer.”
I grinned as fresh shouts surged in the van. Rhona pulled away from my apartment, turning left across the bridge toward Deception River. Now I knew that led to the wolves’ turf. Though I couldn’t regret being there, really, when it had saved a child’s life.
“Nervous?” Wade whispered.
Cameron draped an arm over my shoulders. “Of course she is. But Wade said you had a wolf shift in front of you the other day. That’s about the scariest thing out there, so you’re all set.”
Did it matter that I hadn’t managed to land a single dart in the test dummy yet though? Aside from the time I accidentally pulled the trigger while turning to speak to Gerry. That earned me fifty burpees.
I grimaced. “I really don’t feel ready.”
“I won’t lie,” she said. “Recruits usually train for a year before they start mentorship in the grid.”
“What?”
Cameron grimaced. “They’re fifteen though. And the wait is more so they’re sixteen when we put them in there. Then the adults don’t feel so bad.”
One year.
What the hell, Herc?
“You’ll tag along with Rhona.” Wade nudged me. “Don’t tell her I said so, but she’s kind of the best at this.”
“I thought she was pepper,” I replied.
“Exactly. Who wants pepper in their face?”
Cameron shook her head. “In all seriousness, you’ll be fine out there. No one expects much from you.”
I choked on a snort. Either side of me, the pair grinned.
Low expectations were a relief. I was a fake Thana, and I didn’t compare to Rhona’s badassery.
People wouldn’t compare us, would they?
Shrieks rolled through the van as Rhona pelted down a bumpy dirt road. I clung to Cameron, laughing as Wade was thrown against the window.
Brakes screeched as Rhona skidded the van to a halt not far from where Herc stood with the head team. Impressed was a gross overstatement of his reaction.
I schooled my features to what I hoped was an appropriately serious expression as we piled out.
“Rhona, come here please,” Herc called.
She shot me a grin, walking off.
Cameron passed over a bag, and we walked with the other females into the trees. I opened the bag with no small amount of dread after the Sandstone ball-sac fiasco. Black garments. The same ones the stewards wore in Timber.
Phew.
I stripped, drawing on the black cargo pants, black T-shirt, and the protective vest. I doubled over, grunting through an attempt to shove my foot inside a thick sock.
“Boots before the vest,” Pascal said, stopping at my side.
“That probably makes sense.” I ripped off the vest, bending to slide on the socks and boots that laced up my shins.
Pascal held out my vest, adjusting the Velcro straps down the front. She studied me. “You’ll do just fine today, Andie.”
I’d only spent a couple of hours with the woman, and the marshal was always pretty focused, but I kind of liked her. Or at least found her intriguing.
She turned, calling at the others for quiet. “Today we’re joined by a Thana—”
Ugh.
“—One we didn’t know existed. This is a moment to celebrate!”
I fought back the smile that spread at the resulting whoops and cheers, but the damn thing forced its way out.
My face warmed. “Thanks, everyone. I hope to get through this without shooting myself in the foot.”
Women flanked me after, wishing me luck as we returned to the parking lot where the male stewards waited. Rhona approached, scowling.
I gripped her shoulder. “Are you sulking because you got told off, cuz?”
She glared at me. “Yes.”
We both laughed.
I checked my watch. 7:50 p.m.
Ten minutes.
Oh my god. I’m about to fight werewolves.
“You good on the manoeuvres?” Rhona waved me forward as Herc led the stewards through the trees and downhill. We were the West team. The people here made up one fourth of the stewards.
“Yes.”
“Traps?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Tonight, we’ll make a new trap, then scope out other traps. Most of the time, the Luthers fuck with them. After that, we’ll find a good spot to hunker down.”
“Which is?”
“Depends. It rained last night, and thi
ngs will be extra slippery and dangerous. We’ll see what’s available.”
I held my breath, nodding.
Our horde reached the edge of the Clay quarry, and Herc moved back through the stewards, talking and touching shoulders here and there. Just as in Timber, the mood of the crowd altered. The chatter died as a palpable tension permeated the air.
Butterflies erupted in my stomach. I couldn’t believe this was happening, but a small part of my mind was distracted by Sascha.
He knew this was my debut, but he wouldn’t do anything to me in the grid, right? That would be idiotic.
What will you do when you realise outrunning me is pointless?
Was that a figurative thing? Or—my stomach churned—was that what he literally planned for me tonight?
Shit.
Rhona bumped my shoulder. “Don’t worry, cuz. I’m there with you every step of the way.”
Herc reached us. “Andie, all set?”
“Sure. Let me at them.”
He cracked a smile at my wooden reply. “Last week was intense. Clay isn’t as bad.”
“Because we always lose,” Rhona muttered.
“Rhona,” Herc scolded low and fast. “You know better than that.”
A few people around us definitely heard her comment.
“I’m ready to do my best.” This was just like an exam. A challenge. A puzzle of 3D proportions.
I liked this shit.
Maybe.
Herc tilted his chin. “Go get ’em, werewolf killer.”
“That’s worse than kiddo.”
His lips twitched. “I’ll see you both after.”
Rhona dragged me over to a group of people who had muscles as defined as hers.
“This is our working unit.” She bumped fists with them, and I did the same, missing twice.
“Here,” she said. “Put this in.”
I accepted the earbud, shoving it in my ear. She checked the position, then inserted her own, testing her walkie-talkie. Everyone had one but me.
She checked over everyone’s gear. “There are four teams—North, West, East, and South. Each team is made up of units. I front this unit, and I’m also the leader of the West team. The unit leaders in West report to me, and I communicate with the three other team leaders and Dad. Your job is to report to me.”
Units made up the teams. Talk to Rhona. “Okay.”
“She’s the best,” one of the guys announced.
The guy from the lake. Foley. I waggled my brows at Rhona.
“We wear helmets in this grid,” she said, lobbing a helmet into my gut.
Oof.
Glaring, I put it on, attaching the strap under my chin.
Rhona flicked down the attached bug glasses. “Just like the lenses in the mask, they’ll naturally adjust to the lessening light.”
The team leaned in, stretching out their hands. I hastily added mine.
“This grid is ours. On three,” Rhona shouted.
I dutifully mumbled the chant.
Shouts from the surrounding units were followed by the tell-tale boom of the starting cannon.
“We’re out,” Rhona said.
Heart pounding, I ran onto the rolling clay quarry. Crap, they ran really fast. Perhaps today would just be about not dropping my lungs out my ass.
I’d started wheezing when Rhona stopped.
“Billy and Laura. Lay foundations,” she ordered. “Foley and Jordyn, start on the frequency generators.”
She turned, not laughing at my wheezing gasps.
“It’s important to never give away details of what we’re doing,” Rhona instructed. “Be vague always. Over the walkies, and any time you speak. Even with generators up.”
Foley and Jordyn placed clay-coloured generators at intervals. I guessed every unit in each team was doing the same thing.
“The only thing they can’t touch on the grid are heat sensors,” Rhona said. “Everything else is fair game between times.”
I’d memorized the new traps for this grid this morning, and as the crouched pair strung a trip wire between two mounds of slick clay, I mentally added the cans on each end. The cans were filled with liquid wolfsbane.
Many traps in Clay were one-offs because the wolves tended to dismantle them anyway. The stewards called these Drain Traps because they stripped the wolves’ senses and made them easier targets.
Rhona tapped Laura on the shoulder and beckoned me in. She passed me one of the cans, and I studied my end of the tripwire, looping the end of the trip wire through the bottom of the can. The trap was battery operated and when a wolf triggered the tripwire, the can detonated. I set it down carefully, sprinkling clay over the top. I searched my cargo pockets and found my wolfsbane, spraying the area to cover my presence.
“Well done.” My cousin checked over the trap.
Thank you, Gerry. Maybe I’d cut that silent bastard some slack.
“Here’s where we split into pairs,” she said as the others peeled off, running in different directions. “Foley will join us today too.”
I set my mind to keeping up with the pair as we visited established trap sites. Out of the three assigned to our trio, only one remained intact.
Rhona gripped my arm when I moved closer.
“Stay still.”
I froze in a crouch. “What?”
“They sometimes alter traps.”
Foley squinted at the ground, and I closed my eyes, trying to orientate myself from my memories of the app and virtual reality. My eyes popped open. This was a Delay Trap. In front of us, a flip board disguised a deep hole. The tripwire on the bottom triggered nets over the hole. Any tugging on the net locked the flip board in place. The wolves were strong enough to escape most traps. Delay traps held the wolf until a steward could get in position to take out the target.
This trap didn’t look different to me.
Foley left, and returned in short measure with a stick, which he waved over the flip board.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Rhona jerked me back as darts exploded across the board.
“Fuck,” Foley said, sprawled on the ground. “Motion detectors. That’s new.”
Rhona waved her gun through the middle again. No more darts erupted. “Let’s run checks.”
She guided me through the trap maintenance and Foley smashed the detectors. We checked the tripwire mechanism and reset it, climbing out of the hole.
A howl went up.
Sascha.
“Ten minutes,” Foley said.
Rhona grinned. “Time to hole up.”
Foley left us, and I faced my cousin. I held my tranquiliser gun against my thigh. Wait, Gerry said not to do that.
I cradled it again.
“Ready for the fun part?” she asked.
Nope.
I jogged after her, breaths as quiet as I could keep them. We reached a small rise with wide cuts that formed large and uneven steps to the top. Rhona pulled herself up onto the first ledge and stretched a hand down to help me up. Wedging a foot against the slippery wall, I made it.
“Roll around,” Rhona said low.
She covered herself in clay and I did the same, smearing some on my black helmet. I was going to have clay in places I didn’t know existed after tonight.
“Cleats on.”
In my pocket were spikes that screwed into the bottom of my boots. I scraped off the goop already accumulated there and twisted the metal points in place.
Boom.
Sascha howled again as the cannon boomed, and my heart leaped into my throat. They were coming.
And the bastard was yowling to scare me.
Rhona beckoned me after her, and we walked to a mound of clay on the ledge. Copying her, I set my back against the mound. She patted the air, and I crouched. She left me then, moving around the other side.
I hoped.
Fuck. Was she gone?
Okay.
I ran over the operation of my gun a few times, inhales quickening at the poundin
g in the distance. The Luthers were running.
Another howl.
I gritted my teeth.
Was Rhona still here? I really wished she was in sight.
My exhale shook. It’s simple, Andie. Shoot or trap.
The pounding footsteps in the near distance cut off, and my breath followed. I shifted in the crouch, not daring to breathe.
Herc’s voice crackled through my earpiece. “Four hundred West.”
Four hundred! That was over half their force. In this area.
“South. Mobilise West.”
Rhona reappeared around the mound and pointed upward. I nodded. Higher ground was dangerous, but with those numbers saturating our current territory, we had no choice.
I hauled myself over the next step after her.
Pop.
Rolling, I stared up at the grinning Rhona, mouth dropping at the drunkenly weaving werewolf below.
She shot him!
I didn’t even hear the fucker.
Another werewolf crept around the mound, and on all fours, I fumbled for my gun.
Pop. Pop.
The werewolf dodged both of Rhona’s shots, glaring at us. Her eyes landed on me. Throwing back her head, she howled.
Shit!
“Time to move.” Rhona fired another shot at the howling wolf. Her aim was true. I hadn’t managed to remove the damn safety yet.
Low to the ground, she slithered over the top ledge. Feet pounded toward us from afar, and I wasted no fucking time joining her.
The other side of the rise was much like where we’d come from. We slithered down to the middle level, and Rhona jerked me back against the wall, finger to her lips.
Seriously? She was still grinning.
I removed the safety in advance—sorry, Gerry—and clamped my lips together at furious whispers above our position.
One was female. Two low tones… but different. Two males.
I trusted my ears.
Catching Rhona’s eyes, I held up three fingers.
Two wolves leaped down onto the shelf, backs to us. I clutched my weapon, waiting for them to turn.
Pop. Pop went Rhona’s gun.
Right, waiting was fucking idiotic.
Clay crumbled on my head from above and I jerked the gun upward, jumping and squeezing. The wolf tumbled over me, thudding heavily at my feet.
Oh my god. I shot one.
Shifter Wars: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 1) Page 24
