by Kali Argent
Now that she knew what she was looking for, it didn’t take her long to spot the pack running across the dunes toward the highway. Three males and four females, all of them with lean, sinewy builds, and each one stark naked.
“Surely they’re not going to—”
“They are,” Cade interrupted, his tone grim. “Get down.”
She inched farther down in her seat, but only a little. She couldn’t pry her eyes away from the werewolves. They might be crazed, but they weren’t unintelligent. They moved in a coordinated attack, two of the females sprinting ahead while the others fanned out in graduating increments.
The two out in front reached the highway ahead of the vehicle, forcing Cade to jerk the wheel to avoid hitting them. Tires squealed against the asphalt as the SUV fishtailed over the divider line, but somehow, he managed to maintain control. Still, the strategy had worked the way it had been intended, providing the distraction needed for the others to attack.
Mackenna screamed when one of the males threw himself at her door, leaping onto the running board and stabilizing himself by grabbing the luggage rack overhead. His companion, a wiry female with platinum hair, used his shoulders as a springboard to lift herself onto the top of the vehicle.
Twisting in her seat, Mackenna pressed her back against the console, putting as much distance between herself and the werewolf as she could. Loud, metallic clangs echoed throughout the cab as the female attempted to beat her way in from the roof. As frightening as it was, Mackenna had more pressing concerns. Namely, the deranged male watching her through the window.
Cold pools of liquid onyx stared out from sunken sockets ringed with spiderwebs of blue veins. The creature opened his mouth wide to roar at her, stretching his waxy, sallow skin across cheekbones sharp enough to cut steel. His right fang had been broken clear up to the gumline, and streaks of crimson smeared across his mouth and down his neck.
He barked at her, a sound somewhere between man and animal, as he slammed his head into the window three times in quick succession. There might have been some rudimentary intelligence there, but she could find no trace of the humanity he had once possessed.
The male yelled again, this time battering his fist against her window in his attempt to reach her. The glass shook and rippled, but it didn’t break, which only seemed to increase his agitation. His lips pulled back into a threatening snarl when Cade jerked the wheel to the left, but the swerving did little to dissuade him.
The maneuver had, however, dislodged the female on top of the vehicle. She flipped onto the windshield on her back, bouncing off it with a muffled thump before rolling down the hood and disappearing over the side. Mackenna winced when the SUV bounced with enough force to lift her out of her seat.
At the loss of his packmate, the male started to bark again, his expression a mask of pure rage as he drove his fist into the window over and over. On the third strike, the glass fissured, and on the fourth, it completely shattered, exploding inward and raining down over Mackenna’s lower body.
Reaching through the broken window, he swiped at her with long, hooked claws. Mackenna screamed and kicked out, connecting with his arm, his shoulder, and finally, his face. Still, he didn’t stop coming, didn’t stop reaching for her.
“Mack, get down!” Cade screamed at her over the roar of the wind that whipped around them. “Get out of the way.”
Dodging another swipe, she slid off the seat and wiggled down into the floorboard, making herself as small of a target as she could. In the next moment, the crack of a gunshot exploded in the cab, the sound devastating within the confined space. Her eardrums throbbed with pain, her eyes blurred for a moment, and every muscle in her body locked down so tight she thought her bones would break.
But Cade’s shot had found its target. The Ravager went instantly silent and stopped moving as his head snapped back and blood sprayed from his forehead. Then, almost in slow motion, his body sagged, and he fell backwards off the running board to vanish from view.
Cade cursed again as his eyes darted between her and the highway. “Are you okay?”
Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself up from the floorboard and climbed back into her seat. Her ears still rang, and her heart continued to race, but she hadn’t sustained any injuries, not even a nick from the broken glass.
“I’m okay. He didn’t get me.” She had to yell to be heard over the roar of the wind. “Are they always like that?”
There had been cautionary tales about wolves driven mad by pain, grief, or trauma going back as far as anyone could remember. If she believed all the stories, ancestral wolves had been wild, feral. They’d roamed forests and mountains in large packs, unhindered by any societal rules except their own.
Hearing stories and seeing it with her own eyes were two completely different things. That so easily could have been her. She could have been one of those monsters that stalked the night, rabid and savage, driven by only the most basic of instincts.
“No, they’re not all like that,” Cade answered. “I’ve seen some who are aware, but they can’t control their impulses. I’ve seen others who are basically zombies, incapable of any kind of rational or intelligent thought.”
Mackenna considered that for a moment. “So, it’s progressive.”
“That’s what we think.” Safe now, Cade slowed the SUV, reducing some of the noise pollution within the cab. “They don’t usually come out in the day like that unless they’re desperate.”
“And they’re only wolves?”
Cade shook his head. “Most of them, but not all. I’ve seen a few vampire Ravagers. They’re less common, but they do exist.”
“Shifters?”
“Maybe. I haven’t seen any, but at this point, I don’t think anything would surprise me.” His tone wasn’t as cynical as the statement might suggest. He just sounded tired. “I used to hate them. I used to think they were just these disgusting monsters that needed to be put down. Now, I kind of feel sorry for them.”
Mackenna felt sorry for them, too. It wasn’t fair what had happened to them. They hadn’t asked for it. This had been done to them, and they were just doing what they had to do to survive. Feeding, fighting, and…
“Oh, shit,” she breathed. “What happens if they have pups? Do you think they’re born feral as well?” Would Ravagers even have the capacity to raise and care for their offspring?
“I have no idea.” Cade pressed his lips into a grim line and shook his head. “I don’t even want to think about that, to be honest.”
He was right. There was no use torturing herself with questions she couldn’t answer and situations she couldn’t change. “Do you think they could be cured?”
To his credit, he didn’t outright refuse the suggestion. After a few moments of contemplation, however, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. The virus didn’t make them feral, not directly, so I don’t think curing it will change them back. I think if they could shift, it would just make them more deadly.”
Mackenna winced at the mention of shifting. She knew she needed to tell him, and soon. She could trust Cade. He’d never let anyone lock her in a cage again, no matter the circumstances. At the same time, it was a big secret, one that could potentially put him in danger if anyone ever suspected her. She wanted to trust the people she’d met at the safe house, especially when they’d all been so good to her.
Were they all as honorable as they claimed to be? Probably, but she wasn’t willing to bet either of their lives on it.
“Where exactly are we headed again?”
Grateful for the change in subject, Mackenna brushed back a few stray hairs that had escaped her braid and smiled. “Cuna Mundo. It’s this little ranching town out in the middle of nowhere.”
A lot of people claimed to live in similar places. She’d heard it a lot in Colorado, but in her case, it wasn’t just hyperbole. The only things worth noting inside the town limits was a feed store and a hole-in-the-wall diner with a limited menu. The residents of Cuna M
undo had to drive at least half an hour in any direction to even buy a gallon of milk or a pack of cigarettes.
Neither of them spoke for a long time after that, and Mackenna used the quiet to reflect on her current emotional state. She probably should have been freaking out, at least a little. They’d just been attacked by a pack of rabid wolves, and she’d watched a man—well, he’d been a man at one point—die right in front of her.
She didn’t know what it said about her that she felt nothing beyond a vague sense of relief. After another few minutes, she decided it was probably better not to consider it too deeply. It had happened. It was over, and they had survived it.
Shit happens. Then you die.
It wasn’t just a funny T-shirt anymore. It was kind of a mantra.
“So, if this is where you’re from, what were you doing in Colorado?” A frown tugged at his lips, and he snorted derisively as he shook his head. “Damn, I guess I never even asked you what it is you used to do.”
In fairness, two years felt like a lifetime ago. They weren’t those people anymore, and that past didn’t even seem real, let alone important. She knew Cade had been in the military, but if he hadn’t volunteered the information, she honestly didn’t know if she would have thought to ask.
“I was a student at Colorado State University in the Veterinary Medicine program.”
“Damn.” He whistled. “Impressive.”
She sat up straighter in her seat and preened a little. It had been one of the top-rated vet programs in the country, and the competition for admission had been fierce. She was proud of what she had accomplished, even if she’d never been able to complete the final year of her graduate degree.
“I was on my way home for winter break. Everything was madness. Traffic was basically at a standstill on the interstate, so I pulled off to take the backroads.”
“And you got lost.”
Mackenna huffed. “I was not lost.”
Cade shrugged, clearly not believing her. She opened her mouth, prepared to defend herself, even if they both knew anything that she said would be a lie. Instead, she pulled in a sharp gasp as a shiver of excitement raced down her back.
“We’re here.”
There was no sign welcoming them to Cuna Mundo, nothing to distinguish the town line, but she knew the landscape. She knew the big boulder on the side of the road, the one she and Jess had secretly carved their initials into the summer before they’d started high school. She recognized the iron fences with their wooden posts, as well as the big tree she’d fallen out of when she’d been nine. Luckily, she hadn’t broken anything, but she’d scared the hell out of Jess.
“Right up here.” She pointed ahead of them through the windshield. “There should be a turnoff on the right. Yes!” Still pointing, she jabbed her finger excitedly. “Right there. That’s it.”
The big arch that welcomed them to Coyote Ridge Ranch had faded and rusted over the years, but it was still the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The fields were a dull yellow now, but come spring, bright green grass stretched for miles.
Damn, she missed colors.
Following the winding gravel path to the modest ranch house tucked behind a grove of trees off the highway, Cade pulled to a stop and cut the engine. “Be careful.”
“I know.” Neither of them could be sure what awaited them within the house. “Hold on.” Without opening her door, she stuck her head out of the broken window and closed her eyes. She sniffed the air, pleased when she didn’t find anything out of place. There also weren’t any footsteps or heartbeats nearby, human or otherwise. “It’s okay. There’s no one here.”
She’d known the likelihood of Jess still hanging around the ranch was remote, but that didn’t stop her from feeling the pang of disappointment.
Stepping out of the vehicle, Cade ejected the clip in the 9 mm, checked the number of rounds, then slid it back into place with a snap. “Not that I don’t trust you, but…just in case.”
Meeting him at the front of the SUV, Mackenna nodded her approval. Her instincts and senses said they were alone, but still, best to be cautious.
The steps creaked beneath their boots as they ascended to the covered porch. The front door was completely missing, but a crack in the frame showed where it had been forced open at some point. A thick layer of sand covered the hardwood floor in the entryway, but it remained smooth and unblemished without any signs that someone had been there recently.
Mackenna just prayed that Jess hadn’t been there when the door had been knocked down. “Raiders?”
“Yeah, probably. Come on.” Cade led the way into the house, the muzzle of his gun pointed straight ahead. “Everything still clear?”
Standing very still, she closed her eyes again and focused her hearing, searching for even the quietest of sounds. A breath. A whisper. She heard nothing.
“Clear.”
It felt premature to take that as a good sign, but relief washed over her when she detected no odor inside the house beyond the musty scent of abandonment. As far as she could tell, death hadn’t fouled the place.
One by one, they searched the rooms, Mackenna pausing occasionally to listen for anything or anyone that shouldn’t be there. Closets had been stripped bare. Blankets and pillows had been pulled from the beds. Both bathrooms had been pillaged for supplies. In the kitchen, she found a half-empty bottle of dish soap under the sink, but the pantry and cabinets stood completely barren.
A Christmas tree still perched in the corner of the living room, a reminder of happier, simpler times. The lights no longer twinkled, and a layer of dust had settled over the colorful bulbs, but it seemed even Raiders couldn’t bring themselves to destroy it.
Mackenna recognized it as another clue. “I think Jess left pretty soon after I disappeared.”
Cade looked skeptical. “What makes you say that.”
“The tree is still up.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, “but even if she had left in January, we have no way of knowing where she went.”
Maybe not, but it meant she hadn’t died from the virus. It meant there could be a chance she was still alive. “She might have gone to Olympus, to the safe haven.”
Cade reached out to stroke her cheek, but he didn’t smile. “I really hope that’s the case, but it seems unlikely. Did she have any other family?”
She shook her head. Like her, Jess had never known her father, and her mother had succumbed to her battle with cancer a year before the virus had been released. There had been an uncle that no one ever talked about, so she doubted her friend would have gone to him when things turned bad.
“I’m sorry, but we really don’t have any way of knowing when she left or where she went.”
She bit her lip, furrowing her brow as she thought. “There might be. When we were younger, we used to leave notes for each other. It wasn’t ever anything important, just kid stuff. We’d hide them in a secret place in the barn out back.”
He tilted his head. “And you think she left you something there?”
“It makes sense.” She paused and took a deep breath, hoping she didn’t sound quite so defensive when she continued. “No one would find it there, so there’s no chance it would be lost or destroyed. It won’t hurt to look.”
“No, it won’t hurt.” His smile was a little too indulgent, a little too sympathetic. “Just don’t get your hopes up, okay?”
It was too late to promise that, so she said nothing as she led the way back to the front door. The barn resided about eight hundred yards behind the house, the natural wood weather-beaten and sun-bleached to a pale, unhealthy gray. The double doors swayed in the breeze, their rusted hinges creaking with every pass. The chain that had kept them closed dangled from one of the handles, and sunlight glinted off the padlock where it lay broken on the ground.
There wouldn’t have been much to take. The place hadn’t been a working ranch in years, and all the animals and equipment had been sold off to help pay for the cancer treatme
nts. When her mother had passed, Mackenna had begged Jess to come stay with her in Colorado, but she’d refused, unwilling to abandon her childhood home.
“We were going to turn the ranch into an animal sanctuary and wildlife education center.” They’d also talked about transforming the old barn into an animal clinic, so people didn’t have to drive forty miles to visit a vet. “That feels like so long ago.”
“I’m sorry that was taken away from you. I think you would have been an amazing vet.”
“Thanks. I think I would have to.” That wasn’t to say she couldn’t be of some use now. She may not have graduated, but she still had seven years of animal medicine under her belt. “Maybe there will be animals in Olympus I can look after.”
“Not to mention shifters.” Cade shrugged when she arched an eyebrow at him. “If they’re shifted, how much different could it be?”
She actually didn’t have an answer to that. Outwardly, Gemini were no different in their shifted forms than animals in the wild. They had the same fur, same skin texture, same bone structure. She had no idea what went on inside their bodies, though. In nature, most animals didn’t have an appendix. Would the same be true for a shifter?
“I guess it’s something to look into,” she conceded as they approached the darkened entryway of the barn. “Hold on.” Just to be safe, she caught Cade by the arm to pull him to a stop while she sniffed the air and concentrated her hearing. “Okay, all clear.”
Cade paused at the threshold. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, but—”
“She left something.” Of course, she staked that on the assumption that Jess had left the property of her own volition. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was it. There would be some message waiting for her in the barn, something to allay her fears and answer all her questions. “I know she left something. Come on.”
With the sun sinking toward the horizon, only a thin swath of light illuminated the interior of the barn. For her lupine eyes, it was more than enough, giving her a clear view of the empty, cavernous space. The lingering scent of stale hay still permeated the air, but it was mostly overpowered by the foul odor of rat droppings and cat urine.
