Wolver's Reward (12 page)

The other and more immediate concern was that
the Alpha Thug was still alive. Wolver bodies had a remarkable
ability to withstand wicked punishment, yet heal quickly.

According to Mrs. Martin, the saying that
whatever didn't kill you made you stronger didn't come from humans,
but from wolvers. Hunted as they were, both for their wolf pelts
and the myths that called them werewolves, their species had to be
strong to survive.

River had no idea what the wolf's injuries
were, but by the scoring of the creature's fur, the Alpha had
survived some pretty vicious wounds before. The stronger the
wolver, the more quickly he healed, and that Alpha was pretty
fucking strong.

River increased his pace and was grateful
when the girl made no complaint. If she hadn't sensed the danger
before, she did now. Maybe she was stronger than he thought.

They reached the parking lot and stopped far
enough back into the trees that they wouldn't be noticed by the
wolvers who remained, eight Thugs far back in the picnic area and
four Leathers at the edge of the parking lot. River was glad to see
that none of the girl's pack was among them. They'd taken his
advice and fled, though part of him thought it was strange and even
cowardly of them to leave the girl behind with a stranger.

The girl must have been thinking something
along the same lines because she stepped away from him, suddenly
showing the caution she should have shown hours earlier. She'd
taken his word, a fool thing to do.

"Your mother sent me." He kept his voice so
low, she'd probably have to read his lips. "The Alpha told me where
to meet them." He thought his lie would add weight to his claim. It
didn't. She looked at him with even more suspicion. "It was the
Mate's idea," he added. He saw the flicker of belief in her eyes.
He pressed his case. "We're to meet at the van."

"Is everyone all right?" she asked as if it
had just dawned on her that maybe they weren't.

He took her hand and pulled her deeper into
the trees. Reluctantly, she followed, but he got the impression
that she was more afraid of his answer than of him.

He avoided the question. "Use your head. If I
was working for one of those Alphas, don't you think I would have
turned you over by now?"

She looked him up and down. Her eyes widened
and she nodded her head.

"You trust me, right?"

She pressed her lips together and nodded
again.

"Okay then, we're good. I need to get us out
of here and I need my keys to do that. You stay here until I come
and get you. Got it? I'll be back in a flash."

He took off through the trees like he could
run fifty miles. He couldn't and even this short sprint was a
bitch, but he couldn't let her see how tired he was. He wouldn't
give her reason to doubt her trust.

He ran beyond the entrance and past the bend
in the dirt road before he crossed to the other side. He needed to
make sure he wasn't seen. His lungs were burning by the time he
reached his makeshift pack.

Wasting no time, he jammed his feet through
the legs of his jeans and hiked them up. Boots on, he stuffed his
socks in his pocket, and sprinted back. He tossed her his shirt and
jacket.

"Put these on. I'll go get the truck and pick
you up."

It would have been easy had his truck
actually been where he saw it last, but it wasn't there or anywhere
else in the lot. The damn truck had been stolen again. The good
news? His bike was parked where the truck had been. The bad news?
Four wolvers of the Leather Clan stood like a wall in front of it.
They turned as one, as in one fucking hostile looking one. They had
to know their Alpha was dead, and River figured they were ready to
take their anger out on the first victim who happened along.
Unfortunately, he understood the need.

He wondered if they'd accept his offer to buy
out all the beer in the bar where they'd met. They could drown
their sorrows and beat the shit out of fellow Harley lovers instead
of beating the shit out of him. Probably not. He shrugged, lifting
one shoulder and rolling it back. While their eyes were on his, he
wrapped his fist around the spare truck key and slid the shaft
between his fingers. The cuts along the shaft and tip would make a
good weapon.

By the time the key was arranged, he'd
already assessed their potential. The two in the middle were young
adults with peach fuzz mustaches and rosy cheeks. They looked
related, not twins, maybe brothers. All four looked capable enough,
but the two on the ends looked more so. The larger of the two had a
good six inches on River and at least a foot on his older
companion. His face was smooth and round and almost pretty with its
big blue eyes and long, dark lashes. It was the eyes that gave him
away, though. Those blue eyes were cold as ice. He didn't like
River. At all.

The older one River placed at about forty,
maybe a little older. He was short and sparely built, but his
tightly fitting tee shirt revealed a muscled body in perfect
condition. His face was badly scarred along one eye and his arms
and hands were crisscrossed with the markings of a fighter. River
felt his wolf bristle with interest at the sight of him.

Scarface was the one who spoke.

"We were set up, and you were part of
it."

River's fist clenched a little tighter around
the key. The accusation hit him harder than any tooth, claw, or
fist ever could. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake his
past and what it had made him. These wolvers didn't know him, yet
they saw it in him like a brand burned into his forehead and his
first instinct was to show them how right they were.

"Discretion is the better part of valor,"
Alpha Goodman had once told him. River had to look up what it meant
and at the time, thought it was stupid advice. Fists were easier to
use than words, faster too, but when confronted with four angry
wolvers who weren't nearly as exhausted as he was, Charles' caution
began to make sense. After all, he reasoned, there was the girl to
consider, too. Her safety was what mattered.

"Look, I get it," River told them. He held up
his hands with the key between his thumb and forefinger. "Your
Alpha's dead and you're pissed. Can't say I blame you. He seemed
like a nice enough guy, but I had nothing to do with it. I got
caught up in this shit storm the same as you."

He quickly told them about the stolen truck
and what he knew of their Alpha's final battle. He left the girl
out of it.

"He fought bravely and he bought you time."
He let his eyes slide away from them to the Thugs who were watching
the confrontation with interest. "When their Alpha comes to, his
first thought is going to be for the girl. His second will be
revenge against the pack that almost killed him. The way I see it,
you've got a choice. You can fight me and then fight them, or you
can leave while you've got the chance." He nodded at the bike. "All
I want to do is wipe this shit off my boots, get the hell out of
here, and find my fucking truck."

"We've got packmates on the way," one of the
others threatened. He sounded a lot like Dakota when he threatened
his schoolmates with his big brother's wrath.

The scarred one glared at the speaker. The
big one curled his lip and snarled. The speaker stepped back, and
the quiet fourth stepped away as if to distance himself from what
was to come. Yep, Ranger did the same thing when Dakota said
something stupid.

There was no one coming tonight and they all
knew it, but River saw no point in calling it a lie and forcing the
guy's packmates to defend it.

"Maybe so," he admitted instead, "but they'll
only get here in time to mop up what's left of you. Get out now,
and call them. Warn them they're riding into trouble."

He thought he'd gotten away with it when he
took a step forward and the line parted to let him through. It
surprised the hell out of him, but he didn't let it show. Trading
the keys in his pocket, he threw his leg over the Roadliner. They'd
left the bike key in the ignition. All he needed to do was pull the
choke out and set the kill switch to RUN.

"What happened to the Mate?" Scarface
asked.

Well, shit. "I guess she took off with the
Alpha," River said in feigned misunderstanding, but when he saw
their facial muscles harden again, he changed course. "Oh, you mean
the young one." He shook his head. "Beats the hell out of me. When
the shit hit the fan, she took off." He gave them a nod. "Live to
fight another day," he said as he as he squeezed the clutch.

It might have worked, too, if the would-be
Mate hadn't come running from the trees at just that moment.

"It's starting to rain," she called as if
none of them could feel the fat drops splattering against them. "We
really should get going."

The sides of the open leather jacket spread
out behind her like two misshapen wings too heavy to unfold. The
thin white tee, originally meant to show off what River carried
beneath it, now showed off too damn much of what she carried
beneath it. He knew this because one of the assholes behind him
started panting like a dog.

"She took off, huh?" Scarface said behind
him.

"I say we give him what he asked for and beat
the hell out of him," Ice Eyes snarled.

The girl had stopped to stare, but not at the
five wolvers in front of her.

"My God." She uncurled one finger of the hand
clutching the envelopes and pointed across the picnic area to where
the Thugs were standing.

The Thugs' eyes returned the stare, but they
didn't move. Their heads were tilted slightly back, noses aimed
toward the woods in the direction from which River and the girl had
come. They were listening. Their Alpha was awake.

"Roll or die," River said to the others as
the motorcycle rumbled to life. He rolled the bike forward and
reached for the girl. No one tried to stop him. They were running
for their own bikes.

The girl's arm was still extended but she
wasn't reaching for his hand. She was frozen in place, finger still
pointing, as her horror filled eyes took in the overturned tables
and broken benches. They stopped at the pile of fur covered bodies
beside the listening wolvers.

He'd been wrong. She wasn't pointing to the
Thugs, but to the evidence of the carnage. He'd been right, too.
She hadn't fully understood what had happened until now. Seeing was
believing.

"My fault," she whispered.

"We need to go."

She didn't hear him. Her head swiveled from
side to side, taking in the entire area before returning to the
wooden stage where her father had sat on his lawn chair throne. The
chair was now a crumpled piece of metal and tangled plastic
webbing. Dark stains shadowed the stage where blood had soaked into
the wood.

"My God, what have I done?"

"We have to go."

River rolled the motorcycle as close as he
dared. She jumped when he touched her. She stared at him and then
at the bike.

"We have to go. Now." This time he shouted it
and that seemed to wake her up.

He had to tell her what to do, where to put
her feet, and how to hang on. She followed his directions, but
seconds were lost where seconds counted.

He barely had her settled when they heard the
shouts of the wolvers running to intercept them. The voices were
drowned by the rumble of an engine starting behind them, and then
another and another. River opened the throttle and took off with
the girl's nails digging into his chest.

Chapter 9

The girl rode silently, her body plastered
against his back and shivering uncontrollably in the cold rain that
pelted against them. Her face was buried in his neck and her naked
legs banged against his hips. In spite of her own misery, she'd
tried to wrap the leather jacket she was wearing around him to
protect his bare torso as best she could. The envelopes containing
the money were pressed between them in a lumpy and sodden mass. She
was freezing, and he was worried.

The rain was blinding, the wind driven drops
like tiny razors lashing their sharp edges against his chest. The
roads were bad and at high speeds, treacherous. The bastards that
left his bike hadn't bothered to leave his helmet. If they spilled,
she'd have no protection. Wolvers healed quickly, but there was no
quick fix for a crushed skull.

It was a hundred and fifty miles to the
meeting place. They'd already travelled a hundred of them, but they
weren't alone. About a quarter mile behind them rode the four
wolvers he'd met in the parking lot. They were in no hurry to catch
up, but they weren't giving up either. There was nowhere to run and
nowhere to hide. Time was on their side. The only choice River had
was to keep moving until they reached the meeting place where the
numbers would be on their side, or find shelter and take their
chances with the riders behind them.

The decision was taken out of his hands when
the girl moaned into his neck and the bike leaned dangerously to
the side as she started to fall. His hand shot out to haul her
back.

"I got you, babe," he called into the wind.
"Just hang on. We're almost there."

He had no idea where that was, exactly, but
the first place he saw that offered shelter from the storm was the
place he was going to stop.

Almost there was five miles up the road. The
Paradise Motel was a tropical oasis surrounded by cornfields and
pasture. The six units were strung together in one long building,
but each was painted in a different shade of turquoise, pink, and
some pale orange shit that might have been peach. Artificial palm
trees in bright yellow pots stood to either side of the steps
leading to the office which was originally the enclosed front porch
of the two story house behind it.

The girl was so exhausted, he had to lift her
from the seat and keep his arm beneath hers to keep her upright.
Once inside, they were surrounded by more tropical plants, real
ones. Some were flowering. The blast of moist heat felt good, but
did nothing to stop the girl's shivering. A doorbell sounded from
inside the house.