Alpha's Hunt Page 11

  “Behind you!” I spun as a knife flew toward where my kidney had been.

  Despite my audience, I grinned. This trick I’d been practicing. Knocking the knife aside at a ninety-degree angle, I dove to catch the hilt as it plummeted toward the ground.

  Now I held my sword one-handed, the stolen knife in my other. It wasn’t, truth be told, as powerful a pose as the one I’d used previously. But double blades did the job Luke had been going for. They made me look like a badass. They made all but the last three wolves take a long step back.

  “Twelve. Eleven.”

  The remaining contestants bared their teeth and growled. Two grays and a black.

  Luke’s voice in my head was amused. “Might be time to play with them a little. It would be nice if we had someone still standing to win against Carl in today’s race.”

  “You could have warned me.”

  I felt rather than saw him shrug. “It’s more powerful if the pack sees you come from behind. I want them to think twice about attacking you. Plus, I knew you had what it takes.”

  Luke’s approval warmed me and his plan made sense also. So, with nine seconds left, I played with the wolves remaining. Danced in and out of their striking range. Swept sword and knife in dangerous-looking arcs while Luke’s countdown turned audible for the sake of the rest of the clan.

  “Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

  My remaining opponents fell onto their rumps panting. I let a grin break out over my face.

  I’d survived my first trial as sword maiden with only a few puncture wounds to show for it. Luke’s voice in my head was like a hand stroking hair away from my sweaty forehead. “You were magnificent. You were...”

  A voice from behind interrupted my basking. Victor, smug and satisfied.

  “Is it finally my turn?”

  I SLAMMED BACK DOWN to planet earth so hard my teeth should have rattled. One second I was elated. The next, I was panting, the fight’s adrenaline fading.

  Could I do that again so soon? I doubted it. Likely, I’d instead end up stabbing myself in the foot when I tripped over nothing.

  But I was the sword maiden. I lifted my blade, hating the fact that the tip wavered. “Thirty seconds,” I informed Victor, “then you can join the big dogs in today’s race.”

  He stepped forward, sword at the ready. His weight rested on the balls of his feet.

  Victor’s stance suggested that he not only had a sword, he also knew how to use it. I brought my own blade’s tip higher to follow the track suggested by his eyes.

  “Enough.”

  Luke’s roar blasted through me, through our pack mates, through the forest. Birds erupted into flight. Fur physically ruffled on shifters in lupine form.

  And I took a step backward, eyes falling to the muddy soil. I couldn’t help it. Neither could anyone else, from the sound of the shuffling feet all around me.

  Earlier, I’d found Luke’s power masterful and enticing. But this example of skinless abilities spurred a knot of cold uncertainty in my belly. Overwhelming the entire pack with pure compulsion just wasn’t cool.

  “This contest is over,” Luke continued, his words like cymbals ringing in my head while also emerging aloud for everyone to hear. “I will choose who else races.”

  “Luke, stop,” I countered. Or tried to. Words wouldn’t materialize, not even silently between us.

  Instead, the only sounds present in the campsite were names emerging from Luke’s mouth along with a cold rush of power. “Arthur.” A nod at the wolf Luke had left in charge when we went for our debriefing car ride. “Victor.” The obvious malcontent.

  I could see where this was going. Luke would send off our most hot-headed pack mates so the rest of us could enjoy breathing room while breaking camp. Once Ruth showed back up, she’d probably be inserted into the race group as leader...

  ...Which would be a great way to undermine the confidence Luke had just shown in me.

  My eyes narrowed. I wasn’t a skinless, but even I knew that an alpha shouldn’t shout down pack mates challenging the sword maiden. I was meant to be the pack’s pressure-release valve. Given the electricity in the air that threatened to strangle me, there was definitely pressure here needing release.

  And Luke was bottling that pressure back up to protect me. Sweet...but not how our partnership was going to work.

  Instead, I fought against the compulsion holding me frozen. Fought until my wolfsfell wriggled away from my skin to puddle inside my shirt.

  The separation allowed me to inhale my first big gulp of air since Luke began laying down the law. Cinnamon whirled around me, not sweet this time but full of warning. I ignored it and interjected aloud, “I’ll go too, of course.”

  Icy wind blasted me. Cinnamon sugar froze into crystalline shards that bit into the healed wound at the base of my neck.

  Luke was furious, but he restrained himself enough to keep his response silent. “I refuse to let you go into danger alone.”

  Refuse? My nostrils flared. That was one high-handed remark too many.

  I wrenched my will further away from our shared cinnamon so he’d have no chance of overwhelming me. “Not your choice, alpha.”

  The final word of my response lay between us like a knife. Whether or not Luke would have picked up that knife, though, was left to my imagination. Because Carl strode out of the trees at that moment. Carl, and Ruth, and all of Carl’s henchmen. Wherever they’d been, they were back now.

  For his part, the teenage alpha took in the bowed heads and hunched postures of Luke’s pack mates with interest. But he didn’t remark upon what he’d interrupted. Instead, he opened with a complaint.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you, pack leader. Your sister said....”

  Luke blinked once, and I felt rather than saw the moment he folded away his intense dissatisfaction with including me in the day’s contest. My neck chilled further as he withdraw from our bond just like I had. I was in his head, privy to his frustration...then I was not.

  But I’d gotten the drift already. In front of our pack, Luke would have denied me. He couldn’t afford to do so with Carl in the audience.

  Instead, his voice was as easy-breezy as mine had been when he addressed Carl. “I’ve been right here the entire time.”

  Then Luke raised his voice...and his eyes to the sun. “Speaking of time, it’s a long run to Wolf Camp if you want to arrive before nightfall. Everyone will have my trail to follow, but Carl is unfamiliar with the territory. A half-hour head start for his party seems fair.”

  Carl hesitated. He wanted to talk to Luke...and he was a skinless about to lose his advantage in a competition. It didn’t seem to matter that the only prize was bragging rights.

  For one frozen moment, the two challenged each other to an alpha eye-lock. Then the younger male’s gaze sank to the soil.

  “May the best wolves win,” Carl said curtly, shivering down into his fur.

  I HAD HALF AN HOUR to fix this simmering whatever-it-was between me and Luke. But instead of meeting his gaze, I drew Ruth aside. “I need someone to mind my tokens.” As I spoke, I unclasped Easton’s bloody pelt and pressed it into her arms, magnets on top of fur. “Someone trustworthy. Strong. Capable.”

  Rather than answering, Ruth grabbed my elbow and dragged me away from pesky shifter ears. “You’re being an idiot,” she said as soon as it was safe to speak plainly. “Victor won’t let this go. You’ll be a sitting duck out there.”

  So she was siding with her brother. Predictable. I cut her off the same way she’d cut me off once upon a time. “I’ll manage.”

  Although Ruth snorted, she didn’t interrupt as I continued. “Listen, I need you to do me another favor in addition to holding my tokens. Get rid of Easton’s pelt. Burn it. Bury it. I don’t care. It needs to go missing so I can use my own skin in its place.”

  “Yes, tell me how to do the job you’ve already given me. That’s a great way to make friends and influence people.”

>   Ruth rolled her eyes, then motioned with her chin over my shoulder. “Oh, and by the way, we have company. If you think you’re going to survive as sword maiden, you need to learn to talk and listen at the same time.”

  I spun around to face another strong female. One who knew that I needed a favor from her also. One who must have—for the first time in four months—tuned in to our shared twin sense.

  I, in contrast, hadn’t felt Grace’s approach as a warmth in my belly. I wouldn’t have even known my sister was present if Ruth hadn’t clued me in.

  There was so much to say, but the half-hour hiatus was already dwindling. So I got straight down to business. “Grace, I need you to take Carly back to New York with you. Michael too if he’s willing.”

  “What are you doing?” Luke’s voice in my head wasn’t pleased, but it was present.

  Well, barely present. The words crackled and flickered the way they had when he first bit me. Still, I got the drift and had to hope he got mine as well.

  “I’m being a woelfin, not a werewolf,” I broadcast, trying to keep my words clear and understandable while ignoring the twinge in my neck. “Carly and Michael are kids. They shouldn’t be involved in this mess.”

  “And if I disagree?”

  “You wanted me to make my own choices. This is one of them.”

  Luke’s silence conveyed reluctant acceptance. Grace’s reaction was no more warm.

  “You’re sending me away. Again.”

  “No.” I took a step forward. Grabbed her hand, half expecting her to yank it back out of my fingers.

  Instead, her hand relaxed into mine, giving me a chance to explain. “I’m trusting you to do something hard and important,” I told her. “If Luke and I can’t fix things here, there’s a good chance skinless will come looking for Carly and Michael. I’ve heard you throwing knives at that target in your bedroom. You can handle this. You’re the only one I trust to protect kids who can’t protect themselves.”

  For a moment, I thought I’d taken the wrong tack. Had I misread Grace’s anger? Had our twinship broken down over something other than my failure to utilize her strength?

  Then her lips curled upward into a cat-like smile. “Okay. If you do me a return favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “Take Bastion with you. On this race. Hunt. Whatever it is.”

  Luke’s interjection this time was barely audible. “Even your sister can see how dangerous this is. Please reconsider, Honor. Let me send Ruth along as protection.”

  It was far too late to reconsider. Howls rose from the campsite. Time was up and Victor wasn’t likely to wait patiently.

  “My decision,” I answered Luke while clenching my hand down hard on the scar above my collarbone, “hasn’t changed.”

  “Then I’ll take care of adding Bastion.”

  His words were as cold as the remains of last night’s bonfire when they bit directly into my neck. They floated into my mind and out again like frozen ash swept by a windstorm. I got the distinct impression something irreparable between us had changed.

  But I could only deal with the person directly in front of me.

  “Okay,” I told my twin. “And...thanks.”

  Chapter 25

  “What were you thinking?” Michael’s hiss caught my attention as I shimmered down to lupine form inside Luke’s tent.

  “I had to!” This time Carly was the one going heavy on the exclamation points.

  Sticking my nose out the door, I peered toward the conversation. At any other time, I would have debriefed the youngsters. Found out more about Easton’s skin and whether anyone had pried the existence of mine out of Michael.

  But I couldn’t afford to show my pelt. Instead, I trusted Grace to deal with the kids while I padded toward six furry beings who had already assembled on the far side of the campsite. Sure enough, Bastion was present along with Victor, Arthur, and three wolves whose names I hadn’t caught.

  “Thank you,” I sent to Luke. But it was as if there was a wall between us. Either he didn’t hear me or he didn’t care to reply.

  Instead, Luke spoke aloud to all seven of us. “Race to win but stay safe. Remember that you are a pack.”

  No one except me was really listening. Already, the males had begun jostling for position. Noses were nipped. Shoulders were bumped.

  And, okay, so I wasn’t really listening either. Instead, my gaze locked on Luke’s. “Are we good?” I asked. “Luke? Can you hear me?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he addressed the chaffing contestants—“Go.”

  His word released us like a snapped rubber band.

  DESPITE LUKE’S ADMONITION, we didn’t act like a pack. A strong scent trail suggested Carl and his crew had run through the forest in a straight stream of united efficiency. In contrast, our group snarled and sniped over who would hold the lead position. The first contender twisted an ankle when he was pushed into a tree trunk. The next ended up in a briar patch.

  Perhaps I should have fought for the fore, but I didn’t have Luke’s ability to freeze pack mates with a single glance. I also couldn’t shift to human form and speak without showing off my pelt. Instead, I let the skinless wear out their aggression, glad enough to hang to the rear with Bastion until we reached a tree-fall gap that opened up our view of the landscape below.

  There, Carl’s pack was barely visible as a flicker of movement heading straight for a difficult-to-cross highway. He was on the path of Luke’s cinnamon—felt in my gut, not scented by my nose—but that path zigzagged crazily before sliding under the highway nearly half a mile north of their present position.

  “Did you add a dogleg to lengthen the race?” I asked Luke, and was disappointed but not surprised when I received no answer. Our connection was slippery with any sort of distance between us, and we hadn’t exactly left on the best of terms.

  So I went with my gut. Pushed past the milling skinless and followed the straight path toward our destination.

  Unfortunately, the straight path was less obvious to my pack mates. Bastion followed me blindly, but the others had nothing to go on other than the scent of Luke’s passing. No wonder Victor pounced on me in a fury as I started off at an angle. His teeth cut through my skin and I yelped. I should have been expecting this, but I’d dropped my guard....

  Bastion’s body slamming into Victor’s side broke his tooth-hold and sent us flying in two different directions. I rolled end over end, the world spinning even after I came to rest against a rock.

  Above me, my gentle cousin stood snarling, daring anyone else to attack.

  For a long moment, Victor faced off against him, fur erect all the way down his spine. From where I lay, I could see at least three other skinless ready to jump in and finish what Victor had started.

  But...they didn’t. Instead, after several seconds of attempted intimidation, Victor huffed dismissal. Then he turned away to follow Carl and his cohorts along the obvious route.

  Skinless fell in behind him one after another. They didn’t even glance at me and Bastion. Didn’t bother to jostle my cousin or step on my tail, even though the latter appendage lay along the route they were taking.

  Instead, they slid into a single-file line of unity. One, two, three, four....

  I cocked my head, waiting for Arthur to fall in as rear guard. Instead, he sidled toward me, sniffing at the droplets of blood oozing out of my shoulder. He sniffed...then licked.

  I struggled to my feet, preparing for another round of skinless posturing. But Arthur didn’t engage. His scent was mild yet deep, as if sharp gunpowder had mellowed into salt spray through years of hard-won experience. He stood beside me, firm and quiet, and it took me an embarrassingly long moment to realize he was waiting for me to take the lead.

  I cocked my head. There were ripples beneath the surface I didn’t understand here. Why Victor had been angry when I tried to go off on my lonesome. Why Arthur was now willing to break ranks with his relatives and ally himself to a near stranger inst
ead.

  I suspected it all had to do with skinless dominance battles. Roles of the sword maiden I hadn’t been clued in to. But the only sure way to know was....

  I cocked my head. Sent out another question. “Luke?”

  No answer. The distance between us yawned wider than the mere mile or two I’d run that morning.

  Still, Arthur seemed to hold Luke’s trust. Plus, unlike Victor, he’d chosen to stick by me. Sliding down the hillside at a trot, my chest expanded as two sets of footsteps followed along the fastest route toward our shared goal.

  THE REST OF THE DAY passed in a blur of running, running, running. We stopped for a moment here and there to lap water out of a stream or catch our breath after a particularly arduous ascent. But every time, signs of Carl’s group’s progress shortened our rest period. We were almost ready to cut him off, but not quite. Without words yet in tandem, the three of us quickened our steps.

  The sun was low in the western sky when we curved around a rockfall and scented old urine. Luke’s territory. We’d achieved the furthest corner of the route along which he and I had run on that golden-turned-bloody day, before Luke became leader of the Acosta pack.

  Tension sloughed off my lupine shoulders. I was pretty sure we’d slipped ahead of Carl, which meant we’d won the contest. Ruth and Luke would have had plenty of time to move the rest of the pack to Wolf Camp. It would have been nicer if Victor and his cronies were here with us, but other than that the game had gone well.

  Despite my best intentions to remain silent, I raised my chin and released a pent-up howl. Bastion was the first to answer. Bastion who’d matched me step for step all day in complete silence. His voice buoyed up mine, pushed our notes higher and higher.

  Then Arthur joined us. And, far too close for comfort, more wolves. One after another after another.

  Carl or Victor or both had made good time. And my group wasn’t quite at Wolf Camp yet. Reluctantly, I released the final note before I was ready then set my muzzle to the ground.