Pride's Run (24 page)

I like listening to his stories and I can’t
help but feel a seed of hope blossoming inside me that maybe, just
maybe if his pack can help me free the others we can all return to
Canada and live normal lives.

After hiking for nearly five hours straight,
we grab a drink from a bubbling brook and try to wash the grime
from our faces before we reach civilization.

I help Logan smooth his hair down, and he
wets his thumb and scrubs a streak of mud from my cheek.

He smiles at me. “My family is going to love
you.” Then his smile dissolves and I see a streak of jealousy when
he adds, “So are all the alphas.”

That makes me think of Stone and a lump
lodges in my stomach. “I don’t think—”

“I do,” he says and cuts me off. “Come
on.”

Discussion closed he grabs my hand and we
walk a few more hours until the Olympic Park is finally at our
backs. As we exit, I glance around the small coastal town and catch
sight of the ferry, which has just begun to unload vehicles at the
dock. I also see two PTF officers patrolling the area and my
stomach plummets.

When they turn in the opposite direction,
Logan clasps my hand harder and we dart across the street. Without
the cover of darkness to camouflage ourselves Logan pulls me
between two towering buildings.

He glances over his shoulder and scans the
street. Fortunately with the ferry in dock and everyone waiting to
reload the town is bustling with activity. With any luck we can use
the crowds to our advantage.

“Our best bet is to separate. You stay here
and I’ll go get the car. Once I get it, I’ll pull up and block the
alleyway. Use that time to shift and then jump into the passenger
seat.”

“Okay, got it.”

Despite the urgency of the situation, he
stops and places his hands on my arms. I watch his blue eyes darken
and listen to his blood rush faster. His glance moves over my face.
As he takes me in, like it’s the last time he’s going to see me, I
suddenly get a horrible feeling in my gut.

He opens his mouth and I can tell he wants to
say something. But when turbulent emotions pass over his eyes, he
seems to change his mind.

“Be careful,” he murmurs, then he drops a
hard kiss onto my mouth and moments before he breaks free and
disappears into the crowd I get a sinking sensation in the pit of
my gut that he has just given me a goodbye kiss.

With danger all around me I need to stay
sharp so I have no time to examine his actions, or how they make me
feel. I draw a calming breath and crouch low, clearing my mind of
everything, except the officers patrolling the dock. I scent the
air, but with the dumpster so close behind me the smell of rotting
compost and sewer clogs my senses.

Logan strolls through the streets, hiding in
the wide open. I can’t help but admire his confidence and skill as
he makes his way to the parking lot near the dock, to where his car
sits waiting.

I watch him carefully, but when I see an
officer sniff the air and turn in Logan’s direction, blind panic
fills me.

In an instinctive reaction, I jump from my
hiding spot. As I prepare to dart after Logan, to warn him that’s
he’s been made, a strong hand clamps down on my shoulder and my
legs are kicked out from beneath me. My head cracks the pavement
and the world around me goes fuzzy.

I hear a scuffle, then, “Grab her arms.”

Blood seeps from my ears and spills across
the pavement, the coppery scent mingles with the pounding inside my
skull lets me know I’m still alive. I pry one eye open and as my
glance flits over my captors, comprehension slowly sinks in.

Despite the fact that I’m outnumbered, my
survival instincts surge and force me to react. Since I’m unable to
run, I know I have to fight because my wolf, intimidated by no one,
refuses to be taken down by these PTF officers. Especially after
having come so far.

But as I’m dragged deeper into the alley by
two hard men who’ve been trained to shoot first and ask questions
later, I can’t help but fear the worst.

With desperation fueling me on and knowing my
only chance at survival is to shift, my clothes tear and I call on
my primal side. A ferocious howl rips from my throat and sends the
men into action.

“Quick, subdue her before she finishes,” one
cop yells out to the other two as his hand hovers over his gun.
“Our orders are to bring her back to the estate alive. If she
shifts I’ll have to shoot her.”

I hurry to morph, the pain pulling my focus
to the point of distraction, but I don’t miss the significance in
what he’s saying.

The PTF are working for my master!

My incisors puncture my gums and moments
before I’m about to go feral, I see one man pull a needle from his
pocket. I growl and try to break the hold the other two have over
me.

With my transformation incomplete, I kick,
claw and bite at the officers as they hold me down. But when a
needle jabs my neck and I feel a cold, syrupy fluid pump into my
body—a fluid I can only assume is liquid silver—it begins to slow
me down.

I give a broken gasp and lash out at the man
knelt beside me, refusing to go down so easily. As he scuttles
backward, fury obscures my vision and red dots dance before my
eyes. But when some small coherent part reminds me that they want
me alive I know I still have a fighting chance.

And that’s good enough for me.

I blink my mind into focus and work to push
past the nausea welling up inside me. I wipe the blur from my eyes
and assess my odds as I glare at the three men surrounding me.

Feeling both mentally and physically
sluggish, I roll onto my stomach and try to crawl to the street.
With my brain barely functioning the best plan I can come up with
is to make it to the open so I can scream for help. If people come
running, perhaps I can escape under the cover of the commotion.

The men don’t move. Instead they all rise to
their feet and stand there like storefront mannequins, watching
over me like they’re waiting for something to happen. The skin on
my knees and elbows tear as I drag my body across the hot, black
pavement, but when someone steps in front of me and blocks my exit,
a cry lodges in my throat.

Stone!

I open my mouth to say his name, to tell him
to run, to save himself, but my tongue is so thick I can’t speak. I
try to reach him telepathically, but I’m unable to sort through the
confusion in my brain long enough to articulate a clear
thought.

The officer hovering beside me turns to see
Stone and the world around me tilts. Because in two seconds flat I
know they’ll knock the alpha wolf to the ground right alongside me.
I can’t let that happen. I can’t let Stone die because of me.

Except when they all exchange a knowing look,
and Stone takes a stand beside the officer, I diligently try to
shake the fog from my head and figure out what’s going on.

The cop gestures with a nod and hands Stone a
thick rope. “Secure her legs.”

My fuzzy glance goes from Stone to the cop
back to Stone again and I can hardly believe what I’m hearing.
Struggling to pull the veil back on my drug induced mind, I try to
scurry away but Stone drops to the ground and grabs my ankles.

“
Pride?
”

As he pushes his way into my rattled thoughts
I can feel his tension, his worry.

“
Can you hear me
?”

It’s then that I realize he’s speaking to me
privately, his words meant for me and me alone. As he fiddles with
the rope, I listen to his blood pound hard.

Guarded eyes meet mine and give a warning.
“
Don’t let them know I’m with you
.”

I breathe deep and that when I taste his
fear, as thick in the air as the stench of the dumpster behind me.
It settles on the back of my tongue and has my alarm bells
jangling.

Stone is afraid.

“
I need you to shift, Pride,
” he
demands as he restrains my legs. “
It’s the only way you can
fight this
.”

I force my head up and when I see a flash of
possessiveness in his eyes, it occurs to me just how wrong I’ve
been about him. Heartache sets my chest on fire and my insides
tighten to the point of pain. I close my eyes against the flood of
emotion as the truth unfolds before me.

Stone is on my side.

He’s always been on my side.

And all this time he hasn’t just been
watching me. He’s been watching over me.

“
We don’t have much time. Do it
now
.”

I struggle to morph but as pain erupts inside
my weakened body my wolf rebels, completely incapacitated by the
poison flowing through my veins.

I lower my head. “
I can’t,
” I manage
to choke out.

“
You can and you will
.”

I glance at him, my throat aching painfully.
“
Stone…
”

His eyes go dark when he says, “
So that’s
it then, kitty-cat? After everything you’ve been though you’re just
going to roll over and die?”
He makes a tsking sound
. “So
weak.”

“
I am not weak!”
I scream back.

He smirks at me and under the guise of
leashing me, he continues to wrap the rope around my legs. I growl
up at him and much to my surprise my canines punch through my
gums.

Stone looks at my fangs and jeers, “
Come
on kitty-cat, I thought you had more in you than that
.” Blood
pounds in my ears as I listen to him mock me. “
It’s not much
wonder these guys caught you. Clearly the master made a mistake in
sending out a pup like you
.”

As he taunts me it adds fuel to the fire
brewing in my stomach. Hating for anyone to see a weakness in me, I
embrace my fury and use it to feed my wolf. My nostrils flare, my
blood pumps faster, and my nails begin to extend.

Pewter dances in his eyes as he coaxes me.
“
That’s it, kitty-cat.
”

I feel myself growing stronger and when the
fog in my brain begins to dissipate I become aware of what he’s
doing. He wants me angry. Provoking me the best way he knows how—by
using my biggest fears against me. It’s my anger that feeds my
primal side and the only thing that can nullify the effect of the
drug is my wolf’s regenerative abilities.

As my blood pushes the poison through my
body, I see a flash in the distance and look past Stone’s
shoulders. When I narrow my eyes, I see Logan. But when Logan
shakes his head and turns his back on me, the world around me
begins to fade.

I hear a bark of laughter from one of the
officers. “Looks like your boyfriend over there is more interested
in saving his own ass than yours.”

As the alley sways, drifting in and out of
existence I watch Logan round a corner. In that instant, every old
fear I have comes rushing back to the surface.

Is the officer right?

Is Logan a wolf who’d save himself in the
face of danger, like I first feared?

My nails grow longer as I catch one last
glimpse of Logan before he disappears from my sight.

The old Pride, the one who thought with her
head and not her heart, would have instantly second-guessed Logan’s
intentions, would have assumed he is out to save himself.

But this Pride, the one who’s been through a
lifetime of changes over the last few days and is learning to fight
with her heart as well as her head knows better than to
second-guess the alpha who has always come through for her.

Once again I think about what my mother said,
trust no one but family. And that’s exactly what I’m going to
do.

Because Logan is family.

The officer gives me a cruel grin, nods to
his partner and says, “Go get him.”

No!

In that instant, as I think about them
hurting Logan, or even Stone, rage races faster through my blood
and clears the last of the poison. As the chaos in my mind comes to
a screeching halt, a low growl rumbles deep in my throat.

When my glance locks with Stone’s and I see
the upward curve of his mouth, it tells me that he knows.

He knows I’m back.

“
W
hat the—”

Before the officer can get the words out,
both Stone and I morph. Our clothes rip and the sound pulls the
attention of the other officers.

Guns are drawn as we square off—outnumbered
by one—but when Logan jumps from the rooftop and takes two officers
down with him, his presence evens the odds.

As their guns skid across the pavement, Stone
lets loose a ferocious howl and pounces, joining Logan in the
fight. Before the last cop standing can get a shot off, I leap
through the air and knock him to the ground.

Letting wolf instincts guide me I go for his
throat. My teeth puncture salty flesh and I want to cry with joy as
the coppery taste of his blood slides over my tongue. That first
delicious taste has my wolf wailing, delirious with want. She lets
loose a deep guttural howl and revels in the pungent tang of his
sweet nectar.

Hunger prowls through me as I press on his
chest with my paw and sink my teeth in further, searching for his
jugular. My wolf gives a little yelp, anxious to puncture the
blood-filled vein, to feel the rich warm blood rush into her
mouth.

He’s yelling something but I can’t make out
what he’s saying. His hands push at me, eager to gain leverage so
he can go for his gun, but I’m too strong. Savage growls fill the
air beside me and I can hear both Stone and Logan trying to reach
me.

But I’m too distracted. To distracted by the
beautiful, aromatic scent of blood as it saturates the alleyway. I
breathe deep, pulling the fragrance into my lungs to savor, but
then suddenly another smell seeps past the hunger and does
something to me.

Something that reminds me I’m not a
cold-blooded killer.