Dark Wolf Rising (Bloodrunners) (23 page)

“Wh-what?”

“I had Wyatt pick it up for you this afternoon, while we were in Shadow Peak.”

“I don’t understand,” she breathed out. “Are you...are you saying that you bought me a car?”

A humorless laugh rumbled in his chest. “What can I say? It was all a part of my master plan to turn you into a doormat,” he drawled sarcastically. “It might have failed, but you still get to keep the bait.”

Softly, she said, “I can’t accept it, Eric.”

He gave another gritty laugh. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that. Just use it to get back to Virginia, and I’ll send someone down to collect it.”

Then he opened the door and got the hell out of there, since there wasn’t any point in staying. He had nothing left to say.

Chapter Fourteen

T
he first thing Chelsea realized as she walked onto the front porch of Eric’s cabin the following afternoon was that she’d never seen so many bitter, determined expressions. It seemed that almost everyone was there to see her off—the sooner the better seeming to be the collective opinion. The only person she didn’t see was Eric.

Either someone had been watching the cabin for signs that she was awake, or they’d been waiting a long time. After Eric had stormed out on her, it’d taken her hours to fall back into a restless sleep. One that had left her drained and exhausted. She didn’t have nearly enough energy to deal with the coming argument. Unfortunately, it was pretty clear that no one in the Alley gave a damn. A line had been drawn, and they were all on Eric’s side.

“Give the word when you’re ready to leave,” Jillian said in a tight voice, her arms crossed over her chest. Her normally pleasant features were pinched with anger and disappointment as she stood near the bottom of the porch steps. “Cian’s agreed to let you follow him down to Wesley.”

It wasn’t easy for Chelsea to stand her ground in the face of such hostility from a woman she’d considered her friend, but she somehow found the strength. “That’s not necessary, because I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t get that choice,” Carla called out, sitting on the steps of her cabin, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. “Go stay with some friends, since it probably isn’t safe for you to go home. But there’s no point in you staying here any longer.”

“No point?” she choked out. “My sister is still out there with those monsters. I can’t just leave.”

“It was her choice to stay with Donovan,” Jeremy drawled, walking over to stand beside his wife.

She didn’t know how they knew about her and Eric’s conversation—if he’d told them, or if they’d been shouting so loudly that they’d simply been overheard—but it was obvious where their loyalties lay. She would have found their united front odd for a group of humans, but aside from Torrance and Michaela, these were men and women who had Lycan blood running through their veins. In their eyes, she’d wronged someone in their own little private pack there in the Alley, which meant she was no longer welcome or accepted.

“You all believe him, then?” she asked, scanning the group. But there wasn’t a single understanding face among them.

“Damn right we believe him,” Jillian answered. “And you should have believed him, too. However Eric says it happened, then that’s how it happened.”

Digging her nails into her palms, Chelsea looked at Cian, who was leaning against the back of his Land Rover, and he smirked. “Want my opinion, lass? You’re making a big mistake. I might not have heard the conversation Drake had with your sister last night, but she sure as hell didn’t look like she was in any rush to come back with us.”

“No. That can’t be right,” she argued, shaking her head. The idea of her sister making such a ridiculous choice was simply impossible for her to accept, going against everything that she believed in. “Either you’re lying for him, or there was some kind of misunderstanding.”

Standing at her husband’s side, Torrance spoke up for the first time, sounding just as disappointed as Jillian. “I hate to say it, Chelsea, but it seems the only misunderstanding was the one we had about you.”

She flinched, trying to think of how to respond...to make them understand, when Jillian said, “Do you have any idea what he was willing to do for you? Eric could have left your ass in that club on Saturday night, but he didn’t. He went and killed for you, put himself on the line for you, and this is how you repay him? By accusing him of leaving your sister behind because he didn’t want to be
bothered
with her?” The Spirit Walker’s voice shook with emotion. “Are you out of your bloody mind?”

Jeremy put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Easy, Jilly.”

She bristled as she turned her gaze up to her husband’s concerned face. “No! I’m not going to take it easy on her. Why should I? She hasn’t taken it easy on Eric. She’s done nothing but use him!”

Before Chelsea could defend herself, everyone turned toward the road leading into the Alley. Seconds later, a red Jeep came into view, screeching to a halt in the center of the glade.

“Oh, hell,” Michaela groaned, cutting a worried look toward Brody, who had his arm around her waist. “This is all we needed.”

“Who is it?” Chelsea asked, stepping up to the porch railing. She was privately thankful for the diversion, but judging from the group’s reaction, she had a feeling she wouldn’t feel that way for long.

“It’s Todd Dawson, Sophia’s brother,” Jeremy explained. “He’s a total jackass, which means this is bound to get ugly.”

Her stomach churned as a tall, dark-haired Lycan climbed out of the Jeep, his face a hard, aggressive mask of rage. “Where the hell’s my sister?” he shouted, scanning the group with a belligerent gaze. “I just found out that she’s here and I want her out of this stinking Alley. Now!”

“Calm down, Todd. I’m right here.”

Everyone turned their heads to see Sophia standing on the Burnses’ porch, a heavy blanket wrapped around her, while Eric stood protectively at her side, his hand on her shoulder. Chelsea didn’t know how long the two of them had been standing there, but considering what his friends had been saying to her, and
about
her, she hoped it hadn’t been long.

“Get your filthy hands off of her!” Todd roared, stalking toward the cabin. “I don’t want scum like you anywhere near her! You’re worse than the half-breeds!”

“Stop it!” Sophia cried, looking pale and outraged as she marched down the porch steps to confront her brother. “Eric’s been nothing but kind to me, Todd. Don’t you dare say anything mean about him.”

“I just want to get you out of here,” he muttered. He put her behind him as he started backing away from the cabin, acting as if she needed shielding from the man still standing on the porch. Eric hadn’t moved, hadn’t said a word. He just stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking as though he couldn’t have cared less what Todd Dawson thought about him. But Chelsea had a feeling his indifferent attitude was just a front.

Todd got his sister in the Jeep, then walked around to the driver’s side. He opened his door, but before he climbed in, he turned his angry gaze on Chelsea. “You really think you’re safe here, human? With a guy like Drake? He’ll probably rip your throat out the second you’re alone with him.”

“Shut your filthy mouth,” Jillian snarled, starting to lurch forward, until Jeremy yanked her back against his chest. She was like an enraged tigress ready to protect her cub, and for the first time since meeting the beautiful blonde, Chelsea began to understand just how strong Jillian’s connection to her people really was. And Eric was her friend, which only strengthened that connection.

Todd turned his hate-filled eyes on Jillian and sneered. “I’m just saying what a lot of us are thinking. It isn’t right, his kind hooking up with a human. We can’t take another disaster at this point.”

“You need to mind your own damn business,” Mason growled, the sharp bite in his voice sending Todd scurrying into his Jeep, his tires churning up clumps of grass as he sped away.

Though it was a beautiful day, the sun casting golden rays over the verdant glade, Chelsea shivered, feeling chilled to the bone. The Lycan’s attitude toward the Runners had been appalling—but it was the things he’d said about Eric that bothered her the most. He’d had such seething hatred and distrust for Eric, simply because of his bloodline...because of the things that his father had done. She knew, from talking to Jillian and Carla, how much good Eric had done for the pack, but the Lycans in Shadow Peak didn’t care. They continued to cast blame and to pass judgment, throwing accusations around like verbal grenades, without any basis or proof.

Just like you’ve done,
whispered a voice in her head.

She shuddered, not wanting to listen, but knew it was true. She’d lashed out at Eric because she hadn’t wanted to face the possibility that Perry was acting like their mother, putting a man’s interests above her own. Hadn’t wanted to accept that Perry cared so little about her own sister, she couldn’t even pick up a phone and call to let her know that she was okay. Not even when she must have known that Chelsea was now as caught up in the nightmare as she was.

You really think those are the only reasons? Come on, Chelsea. Man up.

She didn’t want to admit it—wanted to ignore that irritating voice—but it was right. There
was
more to the issue. A deeper fear that had nothing to do with Perry and her worry that beneath her sister’s reckless acts of independence, she’d really just become a replica of their subjugated mother. No, this reason had to do with her...and Eric...and what had happened between them in his bed.

Like a blind woman who was suddenly blessed with sight, the hours of mind-blowing, breathtaking pleasure they’d shared had made her realize just how hollow and pale her life had been before she met him. In so many ways, he’d awakened her. Had opened her eyes...but to things she wasn’t quite ready to face, her armor splintering before she was ready to abandon its shelter. The searing sexual intimacy between them had been so much more than what Chelsea had bargained for—so much hotter and sweeter and more intensely emotional—and when given a way to get out before she was too far gone to care, she’d taken it. In an act of pure, blind panic, she’d used the situation with Perry to drive a wedge between them, without even realizing that’s what she was doing.

She’d chosen retreat rather than to take a chance on finding something that was real and strong and beautiful. Something that could...
last.

Cutting her gaze across the grass-covered glade, she spotted Eric talking to Mason, who had joined him on the Burnses’ porch. Eric looked gorgeous, but tired, and she knew that she’d hurt him. That was why Jillian was so angry with her, and she didn’t blame the healer. Even though she clung to the hope that he was somehow wrong about Perry, Chelsea knew that she owed him an apology for reacting the way that she had. He’d been taking so many unfair knocks from his pack lately, and all she’d done was add to the bullshit.

Taking a deep breath, she started to make her way down the porch steps, but stopped when her cell phone started to ring in her pocket. She’d been carrying the phone with her every day, in the hopes that Perry might call. But this was the first time it had rung since she’d come to the Alley.

The moment she answered the call, her sister started speaking in a sobbing, breathless rush. “Chelsea, I’m so s-sorry. I should have listened to him.”

“What? Listened to who? Perry, where are you?”

Voice cracking, her sister said, “To the guy you’re with. He tried to get me to come back with him yesterday, but I wouldn’t. I told him I wanted to stay with Jason. But everything’s gone wrong.”

“Oh, God.” She was only distantly aware of sinking onto one of the porch steps, the phone still clutched in her shaking hand as the others gathered around her.

“Perry, where are you?” she asked again, nearly choking on her guilt. Feeling ill with it. “I’ll come and get you, but you have to stop crying and tell me where you are.”

“I’m calling from the women’s shelter in Wesley. I hitchhiked here, because I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Okay, that’s good,” Chelsea told her, lifting her gaze to search for Eric, knowing that he’d help her, even though she didn’t deserve it. “Just stay there, honey. I’m on my way.”

* * *

Hours later, Eric still wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up in such a screwed-up situation. One minute he’d been using every ounce of strength he possessed to keep from running across the Alley and grabbing Chelsea up in his arms, the sight of her after everything that had happened damn near killing him. Then her phone had rung, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from going to her when it was clear that something was wrong. The others had all argued that he didn’t owe her anything, telling him to stay behind and let them handle the situation with Perry Smart. But he hadn’t been able to do it. Instead, he’d climbed into Jeremy’s truck with her, and the three of them had driven down to Wesley together.

After a long, drawn-out argument between the sisters at the shelter, Chelsea had finally convinced Perry that the best course of action at the moment, until they had a better understanding of what was going on with Jason and the Whiteclaw, was for them to both go up to the Alley. According to the distraught, nearly incoherent Perry, Jason Donovan had sneaked her out of Hawkley earlier that morning. He’d left her at a rest stop on one of the main highways that cut through the mountains, telling her to find a ride and go back home because she was making things too difficult for him.

The way Eric saw it, either Jason had finally gotten tired of Perry and wanted her gone—or something had happened and he was trying to get her the hell away from Hawkley because he actually cared about her. Were the Whiteclaw after Perry? Did they know that she’d helped Sophia? Or was it something else that had forced Jason Donovan to let her go? Until they learned the answers to those questions, everyone knew that the safest place for the girl was with the Runners.

When they finally reached the Alley, Eric gave a sharp sigh of relief, thankful that they’d made it back without any problems. But just as he climbed out of the truck, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled, alerting him to danger. He sniffed the air as he cut a sharp look toward Jeremy, the Runner obviously feeling it, too, his golden gaze scanning the glade. Mason and the other Runners were coming outside to meet up with them, one of the truck’s back doors opening as Chelsea started to climb out, but Eric shoved her back inside. Slamming the door, he growled, “Stay there!” She shouted something through the glass, but he couldn’t hear the words over the menacing howls that suddenly filled the night.

And in the next moment, hell was upon them.

* * *

The ambush happened so quickly, there wasn’t even time to get Chelsea and Perry inside the safety of a cabin, the two women trapped in the truck while Eric and the others became immersed in the battle. Out of nowhere, he and the Runners found themselves surrounded by at least a dozen werewolves out for the kill. With no time to think of how Chelsea would react, Eric allowed the change to wash over him, cloth shredding as ebony fur rippled over his expanding form. Within seconds he and the other Runners had taken the monstrous shapes of their beasts. They stood at nearly seven feet tall, with wolf-shaped heads and powerfully formed bodies, complete with lethal, claw-tipped hands and long, deadly fangs.