Authors: Naomi Clark
My haywire brain switched gears and suddenly
I wanted to protect Oscar from this new threat. I stood over him,
hackles up, trying to keep an eye on every human there. The
original ring was scattering, shouts and curses polluting the air.
Some were climbing into their cars. Most were just running. One
dashed past me and I snapped instinctively, hamstringing him. He
fell with a shriek of pain and rolled away from me. Someone else
tripped over him in the darkness and I crouched low over Oscar,
bracing myself in case either struck at me.
Gunfire sounded again and a stern human
voice rang out over the shock of noise in the circle. His words
penetrated my wolf brain, tugging at the human part of me
again.
“
Nobody move. Everybody
stay calm
.”
It was an alpha’s command, strong and
commanding, and I responded as I would to any alpha, swinging my
head in his direction and dropping into a more submissive stance. I
couldn’t see him yet, but his scent was powerful, riding over the
blood and fear inside the circle.
Lights glowed close by; torches, sweeping
over the circle and the humans trying to escape it. There was
nowhere for them to go though, I realized, as human awareness
returned to my wolf-self. The new humans had brought cars, pinning
the others in. If I hadn’t been doped up and crazed, I might have
heard their engines earlier. I wagged my tail hesitantly. Was this
help, or more danger?
As I watched the lights approach, there was
a swift movement to my side. I turned in time to see Sly kick the
man I’d injured out of his way and make a break for a gap between
two cars. He was stripping as he ran. If he shifted and made it out
into the reserve, he’d get away.
I launched myself at him, snapping at his
heels and missing by a whisker as he fell into his wolf shape with
liquid smoothness. Unlike me, he was fresh and unmuddled by drugs,
and he quickly pulled away from me as we broke free of the circle
and ran into the marshy wilds of the reserve.
I’d catch him. I had to. Ignoring my aches
and wounds, I threw my head back, baying to the stars, and raced
after the feral. Just before I plunged into the tall grass where
Sly had vanished, I was sure I heard Shannon’s voice calling me. I
didn’t stop though, just put my head down and kept moving. Sly’s
scent was a red-hot trail under my nose. It didn’t matter how fast
he ran, I’d find him.
NINETEEN
Maybe the Silver Kiss in
my system was
doing me some good. Despite my injuries, I didn’t feel tired or
sore. I felt aggressive and energized. I’d pay for it later, I
knew, but for now I gave the wolf her head once more and pushed my
body to its limits, something I hadn’t done for years. I gloried in
the hidden strength I possessed, the stamina and power in my limbs.
My human body felt like a distant dream, limited and fragile in
comparison to this. For a few seconds I almost forgot why I was
running and just reveled in the thrill of movement.
Then the strong musk of the feral hit me and
I shook myself, focusing again. A splash of bitter sweat on a rock
told me he’d slowed his pace, falling into the steady lope more
suited to wolves than flat-out sprinting. I had a chance to catch
up if I pushed myself that little bit more, really put myself to
the test.
I gave myself one last shove, called on
every last shred of energy and strength and sped through the
reserve, hot on Sly’s heels. Through reeds and over icy puddles,
trampling through swans’ nests and scattering water voles and rats
out foraging. Bounding over trees felled by winter storms and
fighting through thickets of dead brambles. Now the aches set in.
Now the wounds stung, cold air abrading my torn skin. But I was
closing in on Sly. His scent was getting fresher with every step I
took.
Excitement roared through me, adrenaline
blocking out some of the pain. I could hear him now, not too far
ahead. His form was lost in the shadows, but his breathing was loud
and clear, steady and even. It struck me that as hard as I pushed
myself, I’d still never take him in a fight; he had too many
advantages. I couldn’t win a fair fight, wolf to wolf. It was time
to bring the human back a little.
I veered away into a knot of trees and
slowed down, taking a second to catch my breath and let Sly think
I’d given up. The sound of his breathing and the grass crunching
under his paws faded into the distance. I couldn’t let him get too
far ahead, but I had to give him a little reprieve. As soon as I
thought he’d gone far enough ahead, I started again, circling
around the trail he’d taken. This worked best with another wolf to
take the other side and trap Sly in a true pincer movement. Since I
was out here alone, I’d have to adapt. Luckily, I’d spent years on
my own. I didn’t need another wolf, just the darkness and the
element of surprise.
I made a wide loop around Sly, keeping him
upwind of me so my scent wouldn’t carry to him whilst his hit me
sharply, letting me track him and keep myself hidden. Instead of
running now, I crept through the trees, low to the ground. He’d
slowed his pace as soon as he thought I’d given up, but was still
moving determinedly east. Out of the reserve, I guessed. Away from
the mess he’d made back at the barn. I growled softly and closed
in, narrowing the distance between us slowly but surely. I couldn’t
risk any mistakes. As much as I wanted to just rush in and rip his
throat out, I had to play it safe.
A few minutes later, he was in my field of
vision again, taking a break at the edge of the river. I stopped,
dropping down into a pounce position, even though he wasn’t close
enough for it. This was it: my one chance. If this went wrong, he’d
get away and probably leave me for dead. I had to be quick and
precise, not the easiest thing. I wasn’t planning to kill him and
if I misjudged anything, I might do so accidentally. I thought I’d
burned off the Silver Kiss—my head felt clearer, my mind more like
my own—but I couldn’t be sure and I dreaded making a mistake.
Sly trotted to the riverbank, putting his
back to me while he drank. Now was my moment.
I slunk from my hiding place, hardly daring
to breathe for fear of alerting him. He kept drinking, head almost
under the water. I shivered but suppressed the flash of memory that
threatened me. I wasn’t going in the water this time. I moved
closer, my heartbeat counting the seconds until I pounced.
Sly raised his head and shook it, shining
droplets of water flying from his muzzle. I gathered up everything
I had left inside me—every scrap of pain, outrage, and disgust—and
flew at him.
It was a magic moment; that
perfect hunter’s moment that all wolves cherish and long for. I hit
him in the side, sent him sprawling to the earth in a tangle of
limbs and with two swift, hard bites, hamstrung him, severing the
tendons at the back of his knees. His pained howl rang in my skull,
making my head spin. I stiffened my trembling legs; afraid I might
collapse now and undo this perfect moment. Sly was at my mercy and
he knew it. His eyes were wide, rolled back in his head, and his
sides heaved, the acrid tang of his fear hanging over us. I had
him.
Finally
.
Changing back to human shape after so long as a wolf left me
disorientated and giddy with relief. My irrational fear that I
might be trapped in wolf shape dissipated in a surge of adrenalin
and beautiful agony. A euphoria that was short lived; I felt sick.
I’d been pushing my body to its limits. Throw in Silver Kiss and
payback was a bitch. The first thing I did was lean into the reeds
and throw up. My forehead burned when I pressed my hand to it and
my vision swam. I wanted to sleep for about a week, then eat
everything I could get my hands on.
I didn’t have the luxury of that just yet.
It would take Sly a while to heal the snapped tendons, but it would
happen eventually and I wanted him locked up before that. I wiped
my mouth and stood, wavering for a second while my eyes adjusted to
the new colors and slants of light available to them. My body
twinged as I stretched, a multitude of injuries starting to heal
up, eating through the reserves of energy I had left. I wasn’t sure
I had the strength to get Sly back to the barn where—I hoped—a few
police officers would be waiting for him.
Sly looked pitiful, crashed out at the
river’s edge, twitching and whimpering constantly. I couldn’t find
it in myself to feel sorry for him. Not after he’d caged me,
drugged me and watched me half-kill another Pack wolf. Part of
me—the part that was still all wolf, all instinct—wished I’d just
killed him and shoved him in the river.
Sighing, I grabbed his ruff. He made a
half-hearted attempt to bite me, but I stepped on his back leg and
he yowled and went limp, shivering. After that, he let me pick him
up and carry him like a puppy. He was heavy and my muscles screamed
in pain as I staggered back the way we’d come. I could have dragged
him, but I imagined his ruined back legs, nerves and tendons torn
and snapped, dragging along the stony track and I couldn’t do it.
It was too easy to imagine myself in the same position.
Maybe I did feel a little
sorry for him after all.
What a
sucker
.
I hadn’t limped more than a few meters when
I heard voices up ahead and saw flashlight beams sweeping the
ground. Exhaustion hit me in a wave and I dropped to my knees,
calling back. My voice was raw and rough, too long unused. I
sounded like Sly. I glanced down at the feral in my arms. His eyes
were closed, ears down. He wasn’t going to fight me anymore. I set
him down, keeping one hand pressed into his fur in case he did try
anything and waited for the people to find us. I closed my own eyes
briefly and caught a waft of sandalwood and jasmine on the night
wind.
Shannon
.
Even as I thought her name, I heard her
voice. I opened my eyes and saw her burst out of the trees, blonde
hair glowing gold in the light of her torch. I blinked, shielding
my eyes from the light, and when I could see again she was right
there in front of me.
“
Ayla,” she whispered, a
world of questions in the single word. Her eyes flew to Sly, then
back to me, face contorted with sick fear and slow-dawning relief.
“You’re okay.” Her voice flowed over me like honey, sweet and
soothing.
I nodded. I wasn’t but I
would be.
Now
. She
knelt down beside me, running her fingers over my face, tears
shining in her eyes. “Damn you, Ayla, I could kill you myself,” she
said.
I sighed.
What a way to go
.
***
The scene back at the barn was messy and nasty. The police had
arrived in force and most of the humans who’d come to watch Sly’s
fights had been arrested. Officers milled around, talking into
radios and shoving the handcuffed men into their cars. Some
struggled without any real heart, making vile threats and throwing
out the usual insults.
The wolves who’d been locked up in the barn
were now free. Some do-gooder idiot had simply unlocked the cages
and let them run riot. A couple of the young wolves had simply shot
off into the night without a backwards glance. Most, starved,
deprived of Silver Kiss and expecting violence, had turned on their
liberators. No serious injuries, thankfully, but an ambulance was
on its way. A couple of coppers who were also wolves had shifted
and were now rounding up the scared cubs, driving them back into
the barn where at least they could be contained until they calmed
down and could be dealt with properly.
“
Where’s Moira?” I asked
Shannon.
“
One of the officers is
driving her straight to hospital,” she replied. “She’s going to
need some serious surgery on her leg.” Shannon paled, no doubt
picturing the gruesome mess Moira’s leg had been.
Someone had draped a woolen blanket over me
and I pulled it tighter around my shoulders now as I watched the
aftermath unfold. The wolves in the barn barked and grumbled and I
ached to go to them, check them over, assure them it was over now.
It wasn’t my place though.
A few feet away, two officers were standing
over Eddie’s body. I watched them kneel down to get a better look
and a trickle of grief dripped through me. I hadn’t really liked
Eddie, I realized. Somehow that made it worse. He’d been a bully
but he hadn’t deserved death. Who would be charged for his murder?
I had no idea which human had pulled the trigger on him. Maybe Sly
would be held responsible.
Shannon squeezed my fingers. “Want to go
home now?”
“
Don’t I have to give a
statement?”
“
Tomorrow,” she said
firmly. “There’ll be plenty of time tomorrow.” She wrapped her arm
around my shoulders and guided me to the car.
She’d waited up all night for me, she said,
just like before. And when, like before I didn’t come home, she’d
called my parents. Called Vince, Glory, Cal, everyone she could
think of. None of them knew where I was, of course, but all of them
agreed that she should go to the police. Unlike Eddie, none of them
believed in taking the law into their own hands.
So Shannon and my parents had gone to the
police.
“
I spent most of the day
going over Molly’s case with them,” she explained as she ushered me
into the car. “It took ages to convince them I wasn’t some
conspiracy theory crackpot. I could have throttled them it was
taking so long. I just kept thinking—I could be out there, looking
for you.”
Tina Brady had been pulled in then, along
with her daughter, to confirm the story. After that, things had
moved fast. Not fast enough, in my opinion, but fast considering.
By dusk, the police were ready to move out, having gathered enough
evidence and, maybe more importantly, enough werewolf officers to
be confident. It was a shame that by that time I’d already
half-killed—