Blood of the Wolf

  Jaime took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Not free yet... but getting close.

  * * * *

  Sirus keeled over laughing.

  It was not a humorous laugh. He couldn't stop. Darren and Aiden had both lunged at the same time, trying to tackle her, thinking she was about to get hit by the train... and both were now sprawled clumsily on the ground, covered in dirt and grit. He had to admit, he hadn't seen that one coming. He had been worried for a split-second as well... it still seemed impossible that the girl had been able to pull off that last move. He remembered the way she had wavered on her feet, the heavy limp to her walk... he still didn't like the drops of her blood that littered the gravel. Her wounds were seeping.

  But he couldn't stop his damned laugh — it fought from his throat like a crazed thing. Here was a seventeen-year-old girl outmaneuvering him, winning at their game of cat and mouse! Hadn't he been a Tracker, taking only the most dangerous, high-paying assignments? Apparently the legend of the Paxton City wolf pack was true — their bloodline was powerful, worthy of any Alpha. He could only imagine how strong their pups would be when they mated. So far the girl had shown an unprecedented ability to tap into her lupine energy... and she didn't even seem aware of it.

  “Shall we follow?” Aiden asked. He had brushed himself off and was now puffing on another cigarette, obviously agitated. Neither of his packmates mentioned their Alpha's laughter — they both knew better.

  “Waste of time,” Sirus replied, righting himself and leaping up to the tracks, gazing after the train. “I know where she's going.”

  “Oh?”

  “Home. She needs supplies, and it's the only place she can go.... She's not stupid.” He smirked. “You know, I think I like that.”

  “Whatever you say,” Darren grunted. “I think all of this would be much easier if she was a bit more dumb....”

  Sirus turned suddenly, baring his teeth and lashing out with a clawed hand—wham! His nails extended, raking a claw across Darren's face, the force of it sending the younger wolf crashing to the ground. Blood splattered across the gravel. Aiden flinched backwards, letting out a slow breath of smoke.

  “Watch your mouth,” Sirus growled viciously. “You better hope she is every inch my equal, if not better.”

  “Y-yes, of course, sorry.” Darren sat up with a hand to his face, blood seeping through his thin fingers from the long slashes across his jaw and neck. Sirus snarled in response.

  Aiden raised his eyebrows. “Cool it, chief.”

  Sirus showed his fangs again, staring Darren down until the smaller, younger wolf looked away. He smirked. “Get your car; we'll need to move fast. If I'm not mistaken, this train runs right by her house.”

  Darren nodded silently and slipped under the fence, still not looking his Alpha in the eye. Sirus watched the younger wolf scamper across the empty lot, running quickly back to their house. The young wolf had been testing him recently, though it wasn't anything he was too worried about... just a minor annoyance. He would have to put the pup in his place eventually.

  Sirus started down the hill as well, heading for the base of the fence, Aiden trailing behind. He crawled under it carefully, not wanting to catch his brown jacket on the wiring. The train would take about twenty minutes to wrap around and reach her house... if they ran a few red lights, they could arrive almost at the same time.

  “Alpha?” Aiden called, coming up behind him. His gruff voice was slightly hesitant.

  “Hm?”

  “Did you hear what she said...? About you destroying her pack?”

  Sirus glanced back at him, his eyebrows drawing down. “Yes, she did say something about that....”

  Aiden paused. “Well... that would explain why she hates you so much,” he said thoughtfully. “If she thinks that you are the one who killed her family....”

  Sirus was silent, considering what her words had been in those last few seconds on the tracks. The roar of the train had been distractingly loud, along with the ear-splitting whistle and the clogging stench of oil... and the smell of her wolf-moon, somehow still permeating the air around him, making his thoughts twisted and hot. He thought of the sudden rush of weakness that had swamped him when he had seen the panic in her eyes, the way she had watched him.... He liked her fear, though he didn't understand it. It appealed to the darker, primal side of him. He hadn't been able to hear her at the time, but now he could remember the words clearly. A wry, humorless grin pulled at his lips, showing his fangs.

  He was Alpha of the Seneca wolf pack... and his reputation was admittedly ruthless, perhaps even more so than Magnus the Gray. He could very well have been the man to kill her family and destroy her entire pack; god knew he had killed before... but that wasn't the truth. In fact, it was unexpectedly far from it.

  “I suppose she doesn't know anything, then,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Not her lineage, not her birthright, not even the nature of the claiming....”

  “Can you expect anything else?” Aiden cut in. “She's been alone all this time... probably hasn't had any contact with other werewolves at all. I mean really, she doesn't even know who you are.”

  Sirus sent him an annoyed look, resisting the urge to strike out again. Aiden had a bad habit of speaking frankly, but Sirus let him get away with it. The grizzly man was his oldest friend, after all, despite being more than a decade older; if anyone understood his chaotic mind, it was the wolf who had witnessed all of the same horrors. Well... maybe not all.

  Sirus shook himself from his thoughts and made his way up the hill, exiting the empty lot and heading back into the residential area. It was tragic to be a young wolf separated from the pack — most didn't survive, as he would know. It certainly explained Jaime's fighting spirit.

  They entered the residential area and walked easily through the streets, heading swiftly back to Aiden's house. Sirus moved at a steady and determined pace. If they mated during her wolf-moon, she would be forever tied to him, and his claim to her pack's territory would be secure. He wondered, though, if his attraction to her extended beyond that... hell, he didn't have to wonder. His body told him all that he needed to know. Technically, he had known it since that first kiss, when he had bitten her lips and tasted blood. Her blood had told him something... something deep and instinctual.

  He shook his head, a slight grin pulling at his lips. She had no idea what she was in for.

  “What's so funny?” Aiden finally asked, unnerved by his Alpha's silence.

  “She must think I'm completely insane,” he said quietly.

  The older wolf muttered something but cut it off just in time. Sirus shot him a glance, letting Aiden know that he could hear the words even if they weren't spoken out loud. “Aren't you?” It was what his enemies believed. Part of him, he knew, had been irrevocably changed by what he'd seen as a Tracker... especially his last assignment, when he had heard the screams of suffering children, those left to drown in a sinking boat....

  But insane?

  “More likely just cruel,” Aiden said, correcting himself.

  Sirus's eyes glinted, his smile widening. “Am I?” he grinned.

  Aiden continued walking and didn't meet his eyes.

  Chapter 5

  Jaime leapt unsteadily from the train as it roared past her small, cramped neighborhood. She hit the soft dirt using her good leg and winced, tumbling to the ground and rolling to a stop next to a low brick wall, cushioned by thick weeds and moss. It didn't hurt too badly; she had been able to recover some strength during the twenty-minute ride to her house. If it hadn't been for that brief rest, she never would have been able to climb back to her feet, staggering as the pain almost sent her back to her knees. How was she ever going to get to the bus station in this condition? She could barely walk. And her feet were definitely bleeding. Her left pant-leg was beginning to show a large, dark stain toward the bottom, as though is had been dipped in paint.

  Moving as swiftly as possible, she hopped over the low brick wall into a clut
tered backyard, then ducked between a row of bushes along the drive. The bushes emptied out into a narrow alleyway that led between the rows of houses. It was a long corridor of cracked cement, shadowed by overhanging vines and bushes. This was the shortcut she usually took home; it allowed her to walk in her wolf form and not be seen. Too bad she couldn't transform now; technically it was possible, but she needed to be human to get into her house.

  The alley ran for about two hundred feet and Jaime finally reached the rear of her property, coming up to the wooden fence that bordered her back yard. A lemon tree poked over the far side, branches heavily laden with fruit, spreading its aroma on the early evening air; everything was deceptively peaceful. She had the sudden urge to lay down in the thick green grass and take a nap.

  Jaime perked her ears, crouching in the shadows near the gate, listening carefully and trying to detect any kind of movement in the house. It was a large, white monstrosity, newly remodeled since her foster-father had received a promotion at his law firm. She had lived here for two years and it still didn't quite feel like home, like she was borrowing somebody else's house and identity. Sad to say, she spent little time in it.

  After she assured herself of no unusual noises, Jaime crept forward and undid the latch on the gate. Doubtlessly her foster-parents knew about her breakout from the police station; they were probably worried sick. They were good people and had spent a large chunk of their lives housing foster youth. They were certainly the most normal family she had stayed with. A small part of her wanted to leave a note to reassure them, to at least let them know that she was alive and well, but she knew that would be impossible — she couldn't let anyone know she had been home, and even then, it wasn't like they were her real parents. Most likely they'd forget about her in a few weeks, anyway.

  Sneaking through the backyard, Jaime made her way around the stiffly manicured lawn and the tightly trimmed rose bushes, approaching the back door. She tried the knob, moving as quietly as possible. Inch by careful inch, she opened the back door and slipped her head inside, glancing around.

  Everything was quiet. If her parents were home, they were nowhere in the immediate vicinity. The staircase to her room was on the other side of the rear hallway and kitchen. She tested the air, breathing deeply.... Nothing, only the familiar smells of home, except....

  Cops? It wasn't strong, and yet.... She shook her head. If the police had been here, they had already left — unless her senses really were that weak. She would need to be careful.

  She ducked into the hallway and shut the door, then made her way carefully through the dark kitchen, heading for the broad flight of stairs on the opposite side. Jaime was about to climb the stairs when a sudden sound reached her ears, alerting her that she wasn't alone. She quickly ducked into a shadow next to the doorway and paused, the murmur of voices becoming clear. She winced; her hearing had been reduced to almost human quality. Pathetic.

  “...haven't seen or heard anything....”

  “...chance that she's hurt?”

  Jaime crept forward, hugging the shadows, pausing at the entrance of the kitchen and glancing around the corner. A light was on in the den, spilling out into the darkened hallway, just short of the staircase.

  A deep voice, one she didn't recognize, was speaking. “... yes, there are search warrants out from here to Rochester. I'm sure we will find her. The man she was with is still unidentified, but we're sure it's a local gang member, most likely from Davenport. You know, a lot of times when these kids get involved with gangs, they just keep going right back to 'em.”

  Jaime rolled her eyes, realizing the person speaking was a cop. Damn, so they thought this whole thing boiled down to gang activity. She wished that were true. If only she could run into the brightly lit room and tell them all that she had a crazy, murdering psychopath on her tail... but that was impossible. They would arrest her for sure, and she would be no better off. Werewolves? Who would believe her?

  But she couldn't leave now, no matter how badly she wanted to turn and run. She needed her supplies She wouldn't survive without them: a week's worth of provisions, change of clothes, blanket, and two-hundred dollars. Enough to get her somewhere, at least.

  Jaime started for the stairs, carefully walking across the hardwood floor, muffling the handcuffs that clung stubbornly to her wrist. She wished she knew a way to get them off. She considered trying a bobby pin when she got to her room, but quickly dismissed the idea. Her hands were too damaged to handle something as tedious as picking a lock... and besides, she wasn't entirely sure how to do it. She couldn't waste time.

  She climbed the stairs and entered the second floor hallway. The sky was now a dim twilight outside the windows, and the length of the hall was pitch black. She was thankful that the floors were quiet and carpeted, and she padded swiftly to her room, the last door to the right. She slipped silently inside, closing it softly behind her. Whew, made it.

  Immediately she dove for her closet, quickly shifting a chest on the floor and revealing a dusty, navy blue backpack tucked behind it, easily discernible in the darkness. Perfect, halfway there. As quietly as possible, she unzipped the jumpsuit and slipped it down, pulling on a pair of socks and underwear. She rummaged in her dresser for sweatpants and a loose shirt, then pulled on an oversized sweater and pulled up the hood. She reached for her sunglasses and spare sneakers, throwing the sunglasses in the backpack. At least they would help obscure her face.

  Fully dressed, she glanced around her room, making sure she didn't need anything else. Her eyes lingered on the bare walls, on the utilitarian lamp and bedspread. She had arrived at this house two years ago, but hadn't bothered to make it her own. She had grown up moving around, being tossed from place to place.... It wasn't worth getting attached when she would only end up leaving. Now she was leaving again.

  Changing her mind last-minute, Jaime dove for her desk and pulled out a flashlight, then leaned over the green notepad that was sitting on its surface. Holding the flashlight in her teeth, she quickly jotted down a note to her foster-parents. I haven't joined a gang. I need to hide out for a while, but I will contact you when safe. Thank you for everything. —J

  It was enough. Anything else would only make them more worried.

  Clicking off the flashlight, Jaime headed for the door, knowing she had to move fast. She had an ominous feeling that her Alpha was hot on her trial. He had tracked her across the U.S., he would doubtlessly find her across Black River. She wondered if he knew where she lived. Probably.

  Shouldering her backpack, she headed for the stairs.

  * * * *

  Jones sat up suddenly, leaning forward in his seat. His chubby chin wobbling, he pushed the binoculars to his eyes and blinked.

  “Stevie! Stevie, wake up! I see somethin'!”

  His brother groaned in the seat next to him, half-covered by a blue jacket. “What?”

  “Light! There's a light in her room!”

  “Uhn,” he grunted and turned away. “It's probably just the cops investigating.”

  “Naw, they're leavin' out the front door!”

  Stevie sat up, blinking groggily and staring through the windshield. He squinted, seeing the girl's parents standing on the porch and the officers climbing into their car. “Here, give me that!” he growled, yanking the binoculars from Jones' hands. He gazed through them intently, frowning, then his eyes widened. “Oh my God, it's her! I can see her through the window!”

  “What's she doin'?”

  “How the fuck should I know? All I can see is her sweet ass—she's bendin' over or something. Quick, get down!”

  Stevie reached over and shoved his brother's head down just as the police cruiser pulled away from the curb, driving silently down the narrow street, the lights flashing over their car. The cops hadn't seen the faint yellow glow through the girl's bedroom window, but that wasn't surprising; it was a light so dim that most humans would probably pass over it, though it was obvious to sensitive wolf eyes.

  ??
?Alright... go! Go go!” Stevie shoved his brother toward the car door. “Get out and be ready to nab her when she leaves!”

  “Uh... how do you know she's leaving?”

  “Because she's not going to stay in her fucking house, dumbass!” Stevie bit out, then opened his brother's door for him. “Now get to it!”

  Jones started for the bushes that lined the front drive. Stevie rolled his eyes and hissed after him. “Hey! Psst! You gotta watch the back door!”

  “But what if she goes out the front?”

  “Her parents are in the living room — of course she's going to use the back! I'm going to pull the car around into that alley.”

  “Right....” Jones reached into his pocket and took out the small radio they had been using to communicate. “I'll contact you.”

  “You better.”

  Stevie watched his brother climb out of the car and shut the door, then he started up the car and pulled away impatiently, driving silently and smoothly along the curb before making a quiet turn into the alley behind the house. He pulled up behind the girl's back fence and turned off the car, making sure that the lights were off, then he sat back and watched. He pulled the visor down and cracked the window a little so he could smell the outside air. The alley was narrow and empty, overgrown by jasmine and trees, and boxed in by backyards on either side. His breathing became shallow, tense. It had been a long time since he'd seen any action... he hoped there would be a struggle. He needed to release some pent-up frustration.

  He sat back and waited, watching as the last vestige of light left the sky. It looked like some cloud cover had moved in, and the air outside was growing increasingly colder and heavier. He could smell the moisture on the wind. It would probably rain within the hour; even better, it would wash out any trail they might leave behind, throwing Sirus and the Seneca pack off the hunt. He wondered what had happened to the Seneca Alpha, and how the girl had escaped him. If there was one wolf with a reputation anywhere near as bad as Magnus the Gray, it was that crazy bastard. He had no idea how the two had gotten caught up in this struggle over the Paxton city girl, and to be honest, he didn't care. He just wanted to finish this damned mission with all appendages still in tact, and forget about it as quickly as possible.