Chapter 17
My head was swimming with ideas, but I had to wait for Jack and the others to wake up before I could do anything effective. I spent the rest of the night on a stool in the kitchen, hunched over the laptop and impatiently checking the clock between scanning more threads on the message board for useful information.
There were some things I’d been avoiding. Digging too deep into the activity of one of my enemies, for one thing. Burying my head in the sand was no longer an option.
Now that I was looking, I almost wished that I could have remained ignorant about the issues involving the Others so that I wouldn’t have had another worry added on top of what was already on my plate. For instance, it might have been nice to know sooner that Max had been spotted making the rounds in other territories—except there was no hint in any of the posts as to
why
he was doing it.
Aside from the gripes from someone who had been in Royce’s building during Max’s attack, Others from a few different cities made mention that they’d seen him in Atlanta, New Orleans, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. Nobody seemed to know why he was there, or who he’d been there to meet with—only that he’d been in town. No attacks, no confirmed meetings with the power players in the area. It was worrisome in a distant, this-might-become-my-problem-later fashion.
What was he up to?
It was just my luck that Jack woke up in a bear of a mood. He was determined to get back on his feet and stumbled out of bed to join me in the kitchen, dressed in a loose pair of sweats and a navy wifebeater that didn’t complement the pallor of his skin. Judging by the expression on his face, now wasn’t a good time to ask him for any favors.
I waited until he’d made himself a cup of coffee and the spines had retracted a bit before I attempted conversation.
“Thought you might like to know I found the address where Chaz is hiding.”
Jack grunted.
“I can take the guys and check it out today. We can make sure he’s still there.”
Another grunt.
“If he is, we can form a plan of attack, rally the troops, and get this over with tonight.”
Jack sipped his coffee, then carefully set the mug down on the sleek granite countertop. “Where’d you get the intel?”
“A friend. An Other who has it out for Chaz.”
He sniffed. Rubbed his face. “You never cease to astound me. Trapped in here with the rest of us, and you’re still more effective than the men I’ve had combing this goddamn city all month.”
As grudging as the praise was, hearing it from Jack made me glow with pride. Until he opened his mouth again, that is.
“Too fucking bad you’re going to be one of them. You really would have made a good leader for this outfit when I’m gone.”
To keep myself from saying something caustic, I got busy pouring myself a cup of the brew he’d made, gulping a few swallows. It didn’t help in the slightest. I didn’t open my mouth until I was sure I had a handle on my temper and wouldn’t say something regrettable.
“You and I both know it’s never going to happen,” I said, staring into the depths of my mug like it might hold some answers. “You know, I haven’t really thought beyond what’s going to happen after the fight with Chaz. The full moon is only a few days away. Do you... I don’t suppose...”
Jack pulled out a stool next to me and settled against the counter in a casual lean. The relaxed look was ruined by the sudden bout of coughing that had him doubling over. I thumped his back until the fit eased. He stayed bent over, and I left my hand splayed against his ribs once he got his breath back.
He didn’t say anything about my touch or withdraw from me. The heat radiating from his body was unhealthy, but somehow I didn’t think he cared much about that. His mind had always been centered on how to care for his people, and what I could do for him both in the short and long term. Nothing more, nothing less.
He took a deep breath, then another. It almost sounded like he was sucking in air through a wet cloth. His voice was soft, gravelly, and above all, tired. “We have a place. A cage. Sometimes we take the Weres there when we capture them alive. It’s lined with silver, so you won’t be able to get out. We can discuss what to do with you... after.”
I nodded, too afraid to open my mouth, though his head was bent, so he couldn’t see. He arched his back in a stretch as he sat up, and I withdrew to cradle my coffee in both hands and watch him over the rim.
Tilting his head back, then side to side to crack his neck, he closed his eyes. “I’ll talk to the others. You’re—even if you’re one of them, you’re too valuable to us.”
Well, go figure. Either Jack was going soft, or he was starting to ease up on his hatred of all things Other. Hard to say which it was at this point.
“I see why Royce wants you.”
I’m not sure if my coffee or my jaw hit the floor first.
He started as the cup shattered on the linoleum, coffee spilling everywhere. My face felt hot enough that I’m sure it must have been as red as my hair. Sending the stool scraping back to clatter on the floor, I jumped into action, grabbing a towel and kneeling down to clean up the mess. He eased off his stool and knelt down next to me, grabbing my wrist before I had a chance to sop up much of it.
I kept my head down, my fingers tightly clenched around the wet fabric.
“Shiarra, you may not think so, but you’ve got a great deal of potential that hasn’t been realized. You’re afraid of this life. Understandable. It’s dangerous, often thankless—but there’s no feeling like the hunt. You have a taste for it now. You’re strong enough to handle it. That’s a good thing to have in a soldier. It’s no wonder the vampire wants you. That’s uncommon enough in this age. That you’re willing to deal with the Others—now that’s rare.”
Christ. Of course that’s what he meant. Sure.
“Look,” I said, voice shaking as badly as my hands, “I’m sorry, Jack. I never asked for this. I don’t want this life for myself. I have no idea what I’m going to do after this business with the Sunstrikers is taken care of. I’m more afraid of thinking beyond that point than I am of facing a pack of angry werewolves. You can’t imagine what this is like—”
His grip abruptly tightened on my wrist to a painful squeeze. I looked up, meeting his eyes. The dark circles under them were more pronounced this close up. His brows were lowered, his thin lips set in a hard line. “Don’t think you know what my life has been like. You have no idea.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
“You’re going to have to start thinking about it, whether you like it or not. Time is running out for you, Shiarra. You’ve got decisions to make. We’ll discuss this again after tonight. I expect you to do your best to stay alive. You’ve got the instincts of a survivor, and you’re not getting out of the hard decisions by taking the easy way out.”
I flushed at the insinuation that I might consciously make a decision to put myself in harm’s way so I wouldn’t survive tonight’s fight. Even if I’d been thinking that was what would happen all along.
“You,” he said, looking down at his fingers on my arm, clutched so tightly that the skin around where they dug in had gone white and bloodless, “are not going to die tonight. If that means running from the fight, you do it. Do I make myself clear?”
I twisted my wrist around, breaking his grip and reversing it, so that I now held his hand in an iron hold. “Tell you what, Jack. I’ll make that promise if you’ll do the same. You stay out of the fight tonight.”
He glared at me, a look I would have flinched from only a few days ago. That steely look was
scary
—but I’d now seen a side of him that was vulnerable and human, and there was no way he was going to be able to bully me while he was this weak. He kept it up for a good long while, but he also looked away first.
Holy shit. I’d just out-stared Jack!
“I can’t make that promise,” he said. He sounded as petulant as a kid who’d just been told Christmas was canceled. “You know I can’t.”
“Good,” I said. “Then you realize I can’t make the kind of promise you want, either.”
He yanked his hand out of my grip, rising to his feet. He stalked on unsteady feet to the other side of the kitchen, slamming his fist down on the counter so hard his cup rattled. “Don’t you blackmail me,” he spat. “You don’t have any idea what I’m capable of. I might be sick, but I’m not an invalid. As long as I’m on my feet, I’ll fight. You can’t take that away from me. Nikki can’t. No one can.”
“I’m not trying to, Jack. I just want to make sure you’re ready for the fight before you go out there and get yourself killed. The White Hats need you a lot more than they need me.”
That sobered him somewhat. The anger in him was brutal, but his body was too weak to hold it for long. As much as he visibly wanted to stay strong and keep arguing with me, he had no way of countering my logic or showing me just how much he was capable of doing while so sick.
His fists remained clenched, but some of the tension in his shoulders eased as he slumped over the counter. His words were bitter and grudging, but at least he was starting to see some reason.
“Fair enough.”
I started wiping at the coffee again, careful not to cut myself on any shards.
“You go with Bo and Jason this afternoon to make sure the tip pans out. How much do you trust your informant?”
“A lot more than I trust yours.”
That prompted a small smirk out of him. I think that was the first time he’d ever shown any amusement at one of my lame jokes. “Good. That’s good.”
I snorted and finished mopping up the spill, tossing the shards onto the towel before taking it to the trash. Jack watched me, not saying anything else, making no move to help or to continue badgering me about my choices or his. This was just getting too weird for words. I grabbed the laptop and started to leave, intending to attempt some sleep before the afternoon’s festivities.
He crowded me when I moved to exit the kitchen, stepping in my way until I stopped in front of him. I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but something in his expression warned me against it. Though it was weird, to all appearances he wanted to say something more, but couldn’t seem to find the words. His hand came up, hovering by my cheek, but he didn’t quite touch me. Was it his illness, the awkwardness of the moment, or nervousness that made his hand tremble?
He stayed that way, indecisive, for a long moment. His eyes kept searching my face, looking for something, but never settling. Seeing Jack like this, like he wanted something more from me than cooperation in his plans, was a painfully surreal experience. He gave no voice to whatever thoughts were running through his head, couldn’t say what he wanted from me aloud. There was more under that pale skin and more going on behind those icy blue eyes than he’d ever let on before.
Whatever it was he was selling, I wasn’t buying.
Without a word, I brushed past him and stalked back to my couch, not wanting to face him or any of the other hunters until I’d had some time to think things over.
Chapter 18
(Days left to full moon: 5)
I was close to punching Adam. He’d been tapping his foot impatiently for at least half an hour. We were in Jack’s white van, across the street from the house where we’d confirmed earlier in the day Chaz and some of the other Sunstrikers were currently using as their hideout. It was well past one in the morning. The combination of shitty sleep, lack of food, and stress from having to sit on my ass and wait while my target was so close I could practically smell his godforsaken aftershave, was hell on my nerves.
We were supposed to wait until everyone was asleep, then use a combination of gasoline, Molotov cocktails, and a few flash grenades to light the place up. In theory, it would incapacitate or kill the bulk of the Weres, and the few who managed to crawl out from the flames would come right to us, weak from smoke inhalation and disoriented from the grenades. Adam, Bo, Jason, and I would take our positions at each side of the house to mow down any survivors who tried to escape. Nikki would be mobile, rushing to help whoever needed it most. Keith was our getaway driver and would make himself available as a last resort to pop in and act as additional backup.
The problem with our plan was that the werewolves were all still awake and moving around. We could see them in the windows. Lookouts, maybe, or possibly it was too close to the full moon for them, like me, to sleep at night. We’d been here since 11
PM
, and there was still plenty of activity in the house. With their superior senses, there was no doubt they’d hear us coming long before we had a chance to set the place on fire.
“How long do we want to wait for these things to bunk down? I’m supposed to be at work in six hours. Can we try this again during the day, when they’re all asleep?”
I turned a baleful look on Adam. He really was getting on my last nerve. “If you knew you were going to have to go to work, why did you agree to come on this run?”
He scoffed. “Lady, have you ever tried saying no when Jack asked you to do something?”
That wasn’t a question I was about to answer. Not here, not now. Not after the conversation I’d just had this morning.
Keith was tapping an absent beat on the steering wheel with his fingertips. “You guys tell me. I’m just the driver. You want to call it a night and work out an alternate plan?”
The van wasn’t made for pacing, but I wished I could get up and work off some energy. The need to move was driving me bonkers. The belt wasn’t helping. It had kept quiet, not intruding on my thoughts, but it was radiating an emotional gamut that I was in no mood to deal with. Excitement, desire, hatred, bloodlust—all the emotions that I should have welcomed but couldn’t stand to deal with—were rattling around in my head. Right now, I needed to be cold and calculating, or I wasn’t going to come out of this fight alive.
“We can’t walk away. We don’t know how long they’ll stay here. By tomorrow, they could be gone. This has to be done tonight.”
Bo nudged me with his boot. “That’s great, but we need to know what to do. Jack has always been the mastermind behind everything. He didn’t mention any contingencies on this one. Somebody else feel like stepping up to bat?”
“I think we should go,” Nikki said, her eyes closed and her head tilted back to rest on the wall of the van. “We didn’t have enough time to call in backup from the units in Jersey or Connecticut, and we don’t have the manpower to deal with this many Weres. They’ll know something is wrong the instant we try to torch the building—they can smell it or sense it or something. I’m not interested in waltzing into a deathtrap. We have to call it quits and come back later.”
Some big, brave hunter she turned out to be. I got to my feet, stalking to the end of the van and shoving the back door open. Jason grabbed my arm, his thick, tree-trunk muscles straining to hold me back despite the fact that I was less than half his body weight.
“Didn’t you hear her? We’re going back. Sit down.”
I turned a contemptuous look on him, my lip curling as I shoved his shoulder, breaking his grip. He stared up at me in shock, mouth dropping open. No one my size should have been able to push off that mountain of muscle like he weighed no more than a child, but the belt made it all possible.
“I’m not going back. If I have to do this by myself, I will.”
Bo clambered to my side, shooting a look at Jason, who was now watching me with the expression of someone who has just discovered that a poisonous scorpion has taken up residence between his legs in his bedroll. They might have heard some talk about my infection, but I suppose it was a different thing when you were faced with the reality of it staring you in the eye.
The others reluctantly followed me out, taking Bo’s cue. Nikki, Adam, then Jason, dragging his feet and watching me warily. They kept their distance, occasionally turning a nervous glance to the house. The longer we were out in the open, the more likely it was one of the Weres or the neighbors would notice us.
While it was a flash of heated anger that sent me stalking out of the van, now I felt cold certainty. There was no way I was going to survive this fight. The odds were too steep. We’d counted no less than six dominant wolves, plus the alpha, and a couple betas. Maybe, if we’d been able to stick to the original plan, maybe I could have walked away from that.
Not this. Not with what I had in mind. We’d stick to the plan, for the most part. The only change would be my role in it.
Strangely, I wasn’t afraid. My hands were rock steady when I held them up to get the White Hats to quiet down their urgent whispering amongst themselves. They shut their mouths and looked to me for direction.
Nikki’s mouth was set in a sardonic smirk, as though she was certain I was going to say something stupid. Jason and Adam had matching distrustful expressions. Bo was the only one who regarded me in the same way as ever—with what was probably a severely misplaced trust and attention.
“Okay, listen up,” I said, keeping my voice low so it wouldn’t carry to the sensitive ears of the Weres. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Bo, Jason, Adam—carry out your parts in the original plan, no change. Nikki, you’re going to take over for me.”
They all exchanged confused looks, though Nikki was quick to recover her sarcasm. “And I guess you’re just going to sit your ass out on this one, right? I knew we shouldn’t have listened—”
“Be quiet,” I said, the venom in those two words sufficient to make her take a nervous step back. “I’m going in the front. As soon as I’m in, hit the place with everything you’ve got. There won’t be time to pour the gas, so stick with the cocktails and the grenades, then switch to your firearms. Concentrate the grenades in the back and on the upper floors so you don’t incapacitate me along with our targets.”
Bo was quick to come to my side and grab my arm, shaking me. “Shiarra, no!”
“Are you insane? They’ll kill you! Tear you to shreds!” Keith stage-whispered from the front of the van. I hadn’t realized he could hear us from there.
“Forget the Weres,” Adam said, appalled. “What if you get hit by friendly fire? You can’t walk into the thick of that mess and get out again in one piece!”
I looked up into Bo’s face, something in my gut twisting at putting that worry and panic into his eyes. His dark skin was flushed; even in the shadows where we were parked, I could see it, clear as day. Smell the blood rushing to his skin. The thought of the fight to come hadn’t worked him up, but the idea of letting me walk into that house alone terrified him. I put my hand over his on my arm, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze.
“I have to do this. There’s no other way to make sure the dangerous ones, Chaz and Dillon, don’t escape. I won’t let them walk away from this.”
I didn’t have to say they wouldn’t let me out alive, either. No doubt the hunters knew it as well as I did.
Bo shook me again, not hard, but enough to make it clear he wanted me to see sense and stop the crazy talk. “Look, I’ve seen you in action, but even you can’t take that many.”
Jason looked me up and down, fingering the bowie knife at his belt. “I don’t know. She’s capable of more than we thought. You have something up your sleeve, girl? Some secret weapon you plan on using while you’re in there?”
I gave him a look, and he held up his hands. “Hey, no harm in asking, right?” I didn’t dignify the comment with an answer.
“You’re crazy,” Nikki said, surprise and a grudging kind of admiration in her voice. “You really think you can survive this?”
I shook my head.
Adam gave a low whistle. “Man, didn’t think you had this kind of dedication to the cause. We won’t let you down.”
Bo’s fingers tightened painfully, even through the protection of my armor, pinching my skin. He didn’t seem to realize he was hurting me. “Shia, you can’t—you’ll never get out alive—”
I looked up into his dark brown eyes, locking gazes with him. That same, weird calm flooded through me, a certainty of the inevitability of what was to come. Somehow, my voice stayed steady and composed, even though I was sorrier than I could say to hurt Bo like this. “I know. Tell Jack I’m sorry. And don’t let any of them walk away from this. Burn it to the ground.”
Without another word, I pulled away and jogged across the street, not giving them another opportunity to pull me into an argument or to come up with reasons to put this off until later. I wasn’t sure how long this Zen-like state of mind was going to last. I needed to take advantage of it while I could.
I was dimly aware of the other hunters getting themselves into place. Bo tried to come to my side, but Nikki pulled him past me and shoved him toward his designated position outside the house. Front yard, hidden behind a bush lining the walkway leading up to the house. I’d have to pass him on the way. He might try to stop me, so I’d have to be careful not to give him an opportunity to give us away.
Taking a deep breath, I took stock of my weapons while I waited for the other hunters to get under cover. My guns were in their holsters, ready for easy access. The belt was cinched tight around my waist, thrumming with something bordering on lust for the coming fight. Extra ammo clipped to the belt. Borrowed knives strapped to my outer thighs, ankles, and another at the small of my back. With a few careful tugs, the turtleneck was pulled just a bit higher on my throat, protecting me from any new claw or bite wounds. Not that it mattered much at this point.
A dim light shone from the side of the house, over by the trash cans. Everyone was in place. It was do or die time.
Another deep breath centered me, helped me focus on nothing but the front door as I strode forward. If I looked into Bo’s eyes one more time, I might lose my nerve and call this suicide mission off. There was no way I could allow that.
The bushes rustled as if he reached for me, tried to hold me back, but I used a bit of the belt’s gifts to speed past long before he could lay a hand on me or whisper at me to stop.
I took the few steps leading up to the porch one at a time, everything in that moment condensing into a need to face what lay behind that door. I could feel them in there. Their energy. Their smell; a tainted musk, unclean. Afraid of something. Maybe knowing I was coming for them.
Well. Wouldn’t do to disappoint them. I lifted my hand, glad of the studded leather gloves that Jack had found buried in a drawer and handed to me before we left for the mission earlier this evening. The sharp crack of the metal studs against the heavy wood, just under a Halloween ghost taped to the door, echoed down the quiet street, loud as a gunshot.
All sense of movement and sound from behind the door ceased. The tang of fear grew stronger, more bitter, sharper. I could taste it on my tongue, burning my taste buds like sucking on a copper penny.
Someone was approaching the door. I could feel the heat of them. Closing the distance. I closed my eyes and took one more breath, holding it, hoping it wouldn’t be my last. Drew my guns, running my leather-clad thumbs over the grips, before leveling them both at the entryway.
Slowly, the door swung open, the figure on the other side a silhouette against the lights burning deeper in the house. He or she gasped, a sharp intake of breath, only managing a single step back before I pulled the triggers.
“Knock, knock, bitches.”