Hunted (Riley Cray) (44 page)

What’s she expecting? The zombie apocalypse?
I wondered, eyeing the super deluxe first aid kit, space blanket, baggie of energy bars, and shrink wrapped pack of bottled water. I was lucky if my car actually had a tire iron, let alone enough supplies to last through a nuclear fallout. Pushing aside the first aid kit and water I hauled out the spare tire, leaning it against the rear bumper as I dug out the tire iron and jack.

“This is such shit,” I cursed aloud. Thoroughly irritated, I started cranking the jack, grumbling all the while.

Most of the time I don’t see the point in having a cell phone; it’s not often that I venture more than five or ten miles from home, and I don’t have many friends beyond those I converse with online, so owning a cell phone has always seemed like a waste of money to me. Standing there on the side of the road, in the dark, growing sweaty despite the cold and snow, I cursed my frugalness.

I didn’t notice the vehicle coming to a stop on the shoulder behind me at first, it wasn’t until the lights stopped moving rather than continuing to pass on by that I realized it wasn’t just someone driving by. Traffic was light at this time of night, most of the traffic consisting of SUVs with skis and snowboards strapped to their roofs. For every one that had passed without stopping I released a litany of curses, hoping they died in a fiery crash, but truthfully I couldn’t blame them. Had I been the one driving by in my cozy car, content with my cozy life, I don’t think I would’ve stopped to help a woman shouting curses at passing motorists. The knowledge that I wouldn’t have stopped to help someone in my own situation probably explained why I was stuck on the side of the road, and why I felt a thread of tension weave through me at the sound of a car door closing.

I turned cautiously, raising one arm to block some of the light while the other stayed at my side, gripping the tire iron. Squinting, I tried to make out my would-be savior through the glare and blowing snow. With the wind at my back I couldn’t pick up any scents above the lingering traces of burnt rubber. It was entirely possible that it was simply a Good Samaritan doing their civic duty, but by that same notion, it was also completely within reason that it would be a raging psychopath with a penchant for wolf meat. The latter was far more in line with my current streak of luck, or rather, lack thereof.

“Please don’t be a psycho, please don’t be a psycho,” I chanted under my breath as the stranger walked towards me.

Anxiety clawed at my gut as the stranger approached, the bulk of their jacket making it difficult to determine size or sex. Tightening my grip on the tire iron at my side I let my shoulders go loose, preparing myself for a fight.

“Hey baby, how much?” Holbrook called out, his recognizable drawl instantly loosening the knot of worry in my stomach. Finally coming close enough for me to be able to make out his features through the glare of the SUV’s headlights, I found his face split by a devilish grin.

“You scared the crap out of me,” I said, poking him in the chest with the end of the tire iron, though the wide smile on my face probably detracted from my admonition a little. “I thought you were some weirdo who was going to try and kidnap me. Christ knows I’ve had enough of
that
business to last me a lifetime.”

“Why’d you think that?” he asked, arching his brows at the tire iron that I continued to wave at him.

“Who else is going to stop on a night like this to help a stranded motorist? You know, besides Do-Gooder FBI agents?” I asked, scuffing the toe of my boot along the slushy asphalt as I ducked my head.

“I see,” he mused, reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind my ear.

“Oh, hush you,” I said, relinquishing my makeshift weapon to him.

Seeing me shiver, my bare hands tucked under my armpits in a futile effort to keep them warm, he just shook his head in exasperation and said, “Go wait in the car. I’ll take care of this.”

I might be more than a little stubborn at times but I’m no dummy, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to argue with the chance of getting warm. Reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck I thanked him with a slow kiss that left both of us a little warmer than before, and then retreated to the blessed warmth of the SUV. Opening the door, a wall of hot air blasted me in the face, the heat so good against my cheeks it was almost painful. A second later Loki’s unmistakable meow cut through the air, the grating sound somehow expressing his pleasure at seeing me and no small degree of chastisement for leaving him behind.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” I said, reaching out to stroke the fur behind his ears. “Can you forgive me?”

If the rumbling purr that emanated from his chest and the way he leaned into my fingers wasn’t an expression of forgiveness I don’t know what is.

From my vantage point in the SUV, curled up in the passenger seat with the heater on full blast and a very contented cat stretched across my lap, I watched Holbrook switch out the tires, enjoying the way his jeans clung to his thighs and butt as he squatted beside the car. Even with his swaddled hand, what would have no doubt taken me more than thirty minutes, he accomplished in ten. Stowing the jack and tire iron in the trunk he strode back to the SUV, his cheeks reddened from the cold.

He had to have been a Boy Scout growing up.

“All done,” he announced, closing the door behind him.

“So...ah...I guess I’ll see you later,” I said, cradling Loki against my chest and reaching for the door handle.

“Sit your cute little ass down,” he said, pushing me back into my seat with one large hand. “I’m taking you home.”

Relief flowed through me. I hadn’t relished the thought of facing whatever awaited me at home alone, whether it was a psychotic werewolf or just an empty house, but I still had to ask “What about Alyssa’s car?”

“We’ll sort that out tomorrow.”

If I even have a tomorrow
, I thought, my spirits sinking to somewhere around my ankles. Trying to distract myself from the gruesome images that floated up through my mind, I focused on the matter at hand.

“I can’t leave her car out here. What if someone hits it, or steals it? She was doing me a favor,” I argued.

“Riley, just let it be. It’ll be fine,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Sorry, no can do, bucko.”

I’d already snatched Loki up with one arm and was reaching for the door handle when Holbrook sighed in resignation. “Fine. I’ll drive.”

Smiling in triumph I huddled Loki close to my chest, and hightailed it down the shoulder to Alyssa’s car. It wasn’t until Holbrook pulled out into the sparse traffic, heading towards home that my relief at having him with me began to quail in the face of the anxiety stirring once again somewhere in my middle. As relieved as I was to have him and Loki with me in what could very well be my last moments, I felt guilty at the likelihood that they’d go down with me.

“How the hell did you find me anyway?” I asked, refusing to dwell on the fear and guilt bubbling up in the back of my throat.

“Um...”

“Aw man. It was Alyssa, wasn’t it?” I said. “She sold me out.”

Succubi are really just big softies. Who knew?

“Afraid so,” Holbrook replied after a long pause. “Besides, it didn’t exactly take a genius to figure out where you were headed.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

THE HEADLIGHTS OF Alyssa’s car illuminated my cabin as we bounced down the road, revealing it in brief flashes, and I prayed that we didn’t punch a hole in the oil pan. As we came to a lurching, bone jarring stop in front of the cabin, I let out a sigh of relief and started prying Loki’s claws out of my thighs. As sporty as Alyssa’s Optima was, it hadn’t been made to handle the snow covered roads around the cabin.

Emerging from the car, I looked over at my Jeep buried beneath a mountain of snow.

Well,
that’s
not going anywhere until I attack it with the snow shovel.

I hoped we didn’t need to make a quick getaway anytime soon.

“Home, sweet home,” Holbrook offered in a tired, but cheery voice as he levered himself out of the car, stretching the cricks out of his back caused by our bumpy ascent up the mountain.

Ruffling the fur behind Loki’s ears I gazed up at the cabin, looking as picturesque as a postcard under its blanket of snow. The quaint image shattered when I pushed open the front door and was immediately assaulted by the stench of rotten meat.

Covering his nose and mouth with the cuff of his jacket Holbrook fought to keep his gagging to a minimum. “What the hell is that smell?”

“That would be the rabbit I caught the day you and Agent Whack-a-doodle showed up on my doorstep,” I replied, remembering the carcass I had left in the kitchen sink to clean the morning they had swept into my life. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

Has it really only been...what, seven days?

“I’ll open some windows and take care of the rabbit if you can get a fire started?” I said. Loki jumped down from my arms and made a beeline for the back bedroom in what I assumed was an effort to get as far away from the smell of rancid meat as he could.

Can’t say I blame him.

With his hand still over his mouth and looking decidedly green around the gills, Holbrook nodded.

I went to the kitchen to dig out a pair of rubber gloves and a couple of trash bags from underneath the sink while Holbrook set about loading logs into the fireplace, every once in a while emitting a gagging sound as he fought against the urge to puke. After opening the window above the sink to let fresh air flow over my face, I continued to take shallow breaths through my mouth until I’d stuffed the dead rabbit into one of the trash bags. Sealing it up tight, I dropped it into the second bag, tying it up before carrying it back through the house held at arm’s length.

Separate from the cabin, the old, two car garage was where I stored my grandfather’s truck, and all of the other items that had belonged to my grandparents that I couldn’t bring myself to part with. It was also where I kept the large trashcans, my sensitive nose able to pick up the smell of garbage if I kept it too close to the house.

After depositing the bag in one of the cans, I lifted up a corner of the thick canvas cover draped over the truck to run my fingers along the edge of a red fender. The aroma of engine oil and sun-faded seats roused a thousand memories of warm summer evenings snuggled up against my grandfather on the bench seat, dozing as we drove home with the day’s catch packed in a cooler in the back.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood out there, ignoring the wind flowing in through the gaps between the siding to send cold fingers down my spine. I heard the crunch of Holbrook’s steps advancing across the snow, but was still caught up in my thoughts.

“I miss you so much, Papa,” I murmured, not even caring that my voice was thick with emotion.

Holbrook’s hands were warm when they settled on my shoulders. “I’m sure he misses you too.”

“Will you take care of it, and look after Loki? When this is all over, if I’m...you know?”

Turning me around to face him, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on my face. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Riley.”

“But if it does...just promise me, will you?”

“It won’t come to that, but yes, I promise,” he replied. “Now, come on, it’s cold out here.”

Helping me cover the truck back up and lock the garage door behind us, he slipped his hand in mine and led me across the driveway to the front door. I’d have given anything to be able to walk hand-in-hand with him like that in the warm summer sunshine with the sound of birds and crickets all around us. As it was, I wasn’t sure we’d even get to see the morning together.

While I had been wandering down memory lane he had built up a roaring fire, filling the room with warmth and the homey scent of a wood smoke.

“I’m going to go change into some clean clothes,” I said, relishing the thought of finally being able to put on something that didn’t reek of fear and sweat.

“Okay, I’ll fix us some coffee,” he replied, removing his hat and setting it on the small table beside the couch. It looked oddly at home there, next to my grandfather’s old pipe.

Smiling, I curled my fingers around his and leaned in to press my lips against his cheek, his skin still cool from being outside. “Sounds great.”

Figuring that if I was going to meet death, I didn’t want to do it covered in dirt and grime, I hopped in the shower to rinse off.

Scrubbed clean and smelling of my favorite lavender and vanilla body wash, I pulled on a pair of ancient sweat pants and a t-shirt, taking some small comfort in the old and familiar clothes. If it wasn’t for the tight knot of fear in my gut I could almost have imagined that it was any other cold winter night where a simple cup of hot cocoa and a good book could chase away the monsters lurking in the darkness. As it was, the sight of Holbrook slumped on my couch half asleep with his feet resting on the edge of the coffee table did a damn good job of keeping the boogeyman at bay, if only for a moment.

Two steaming cups of deliciously strong coffee sat on the table, and he’d even managed to ferret out my back-up stash of Double Stuf Oreos.