Scarred Wolf by Charlene Hartnady

28

Jaxon

I tryto push myself up and groan when my body refuses to do as I ask. It seems like something is pinning me down and I turn my head, forcing my eyes open as I try to get my bearings.

“Easy, buddy,” a voice says beside me. I’m unstable somehow, even though I’m flat out on my back.

Wait. On my back?I died face-down. I shake my head a little, vision taking too damn long to clear. The cavernous interior of the parking lot is still around me, and I’m staring up at the concrete beams of the ceiling. Guttering runs along the walls. There are shadows there, cast by the pillars and the odd angles of the place.

Motherfucker!They were in the shadows! Lying in wait as we drove in. Maybe I’d been right and sensed them while we’d been out, or they’d simply waited for us to return…it doesn’t matter. What matters is that they caught me off guard. And they took me down. Like a fucking pup. This whole situation has clouded my judgment.

I’ve been strapped into a stretcher, a man is hunched beside me, checking the belts that hold me securely. There’s an oxygen mask over my face.

Fuck it! What is this shit?

I flail a hand up, trying to dislodge the thing.

“Everleigh!”

The sound rings strangely in the stupid plastic over my mouth and I shake my head to get free of it.

“Woah! Take it easy, buddy,” the man repeats, more firmly this time. “You’re in pretty bad shape.”

I try to get a sense of the time. How long have I been out of it? There are jarring sounds of people talking over a comms system, and blue flashing lights highlight the walls rhythmically. If the police are here, maybe someone heard the shot, the screams, called it in. Then again, there must be security cameras around this area. Maybe someone checked the footage and saw what had happened. It could have been hours. Seems unlikely, though. It’s just so damn hard to focus. All I know is that they’ve taken her and I’m lying here like a fucking waste of skin.

“Everleigh!” I say again. My voice is still muffled, but the medic is getting a sense that I’m trying to tell him something. I raise my head and he lifts the oxygen mask a little. “The woman,” I try to say, then turn my head and spit. There’s blood in my mouth. I coughed it up when the bullet tore through my lung. I can feel it’s healed up. Breathing isn’t a problem anymore. But my chest is a fucking mess. Or is that just my shirt? Judging by the pain that’s still present, I would say both.

A uniformed officer is heading over. “He’s conscious?” he addresses the paramedic.

“Just came round,” the other guy says. “We have him stabilized, but we gotta get him out of here. I’m not happy with that GSW.”

I try to object, but the pair ignores me. An ambulance is reversing down the ramp toward us, and I realize they’re going to get me in it. Then it’s going to be one giant ballache to get out and back on the road. The officer is glancing back at a place beyond where my BMW is still parked, passenger door wide open.

“They took her,” I’m trying to say, but somehow nobody’s listening. Maybe it’s better this way. No good getting the authorities involved. But I’m just so damn weak right now. The paramedic has something gleaming in his palm and he holds it up.

“Found this in his shirt when we tore it open. Looks like some kind of amulet?” He hands it to the officer, and I get a better look. I know exactly what it is…a fucking silver bullet. My body must have healed around it and booted it out. One of the joys of being a shifter. Luckily, I’m an alpha, so I’m healing quicker than most. That bullet obviously didn’t obliterate my heart or I might not have succeeded in coming back from death. What’s more disturbing right now is the reality of this news. My father sent a team down to take me out, armed with silver. And then they took Everleigh. I’ve never hated him more.

“What about the other one?” the cop is saying. He must have just arrived. The medic shrugs.

“Nothing we could do about him. Waiting for the meat wagon.” He shoots a glance at me. “Coroner’s van.”

The other one?

“What’s the deal there; also a gunshot wound?” the cop asks.

“Wish I could tell you,” the paramedic responds. “Saw a guy once out in the hills, got mauled by a mountain lion. This guy had wounds that looked just like it. But then…we checked him out, it was… Okay, this is going to sound freaky, but I’d swear he’d been struck by lightning.”

“Lightning?” the cop repeats. “So, what are you saying? I’m looking for a cougar with a ‘taser?”

The medic barks out a laugh. “Yeah, right! Though there’s a bar downtown where you might find one.”

Now it’s the cop’s turn to laugh, and I don’t have time for this shit. Thank fuck I’m not actually grievously injured or I might die waiting for these jokers to wind up their act. The interlude has given me time to twist free, though, and I pull myself to my feet. Even as I rise, I feel my strength returning. I hit the ground moving and I’m striding to my still-open car when they swing around to see me.

“Wait! Wait, sir!” the paramedic calls out. “You really can’t—”

I wave a hand over my head in farewell, not bothering to turn back. If I’m guessing right, my keys are still in the ignition.

“Hey!” the cop’s voice is sharper behind me. “You can’t leave – this is a murder investigation. We need you for questioning.”

Whatever. He should have thought of that while I was still on my back next to him. I gun the engine as I swing out of the parking. There’s a metallic sheet over a shape on the floor behind where I’d parked. Fucking blood everywhere. An arm protrudes from one side of it, and I’m pleased to see flesh torn from bone.

Good,I think. At least she gave them something to think about.

Though it might have just made them angrier.

Strange thing is, I could tell they were wolves. Why is he still there? Even badly mangled, we can generally heal up pretty quick. At worst, he’d be critical for a day or so, then back up. This guy’s deader than dead. It normally takes a fully severed head, or extreme damage to the heart – ideally remove the organ from the body – to die. I didn’t hear the EMTs mention any of that.

I wish I had time to examine the body, but I have to get out of here.

I’m pretty sure I know where they’ve taken her.

As I spin out past the now stationary ambulance, I reach out to her, hoping to feel an answering response. I get nothing. Fuck!

Don’t give up! I’m coming!

I spin out onto the road, weaving through traffic as I speed beyond the outskirts of town and take the route back to the forest that I’d taken Everleigh out to just a day before. The Beemer chews up the distance easily, though I keep an eye out for highway patrol. The last thing I need is to be pulled over for speeding right now, but I can’t suppress the need to keep my foot flat on the pedal.

I still haven’t had a sense of her in my mind thirty minutes later, and it’s eating at me. The last time she was in trouble, I heard her call to me so loud and clear it was almost deafening. But now, despite desperately trying to feel her out there, I just get nothing.

I can only imagine it’s because she’s unconscious…

Or worse,a voice whispers.

No!

She’s alive, dammit! I know she is. If she was dead, something inside me would die along with her. I know that without a shadow of a doubt.

I spot the turnoff I’ve been looking for up ahead, and veer off the road. It’s been so long since I’ve traveled this trail, yet it remains burned into my memory.

It’s the path to the spot where my mother was killed.

I have no doubt it’s where my father would take her. In his twisted mind, he thinks this is some sort of symbolic gesture. An act of vengeance. Against a woman who has no idea of her “crime.” I may love the man who raised me, but there’s no fucking way I’m going to let him carry out this plan.

The road becomes narrow up ahead as the trees become denser. I’m going to have to get out and continue on foot soon. That’s just fine. It’ll give me the element of surprise.

My headlights flash over a silver sedan where the trail ends, the trunk is standing open, and it pretty much confirms my suspicions. They brought her here. Fuckers. I skid to a halt behind it and fling the door open, leaping out. The air is heavy with the scent of wolves. They’re close. And Everleigh too…the scent of cinnamon and orange blossoms hang like a cloud. I scent something else, something chemical. It makes my nostrils burn. No matter, she’s alive. Definitely alive. Thank fuck!

I’m coming!