Fortunately, the Tinker Bell pajamas were unnecessary. He had most of our clean laundry—including a pair of pants for himself—in his saddlebags.
He washed while I stood shivering on the gravel shoulder. I pretended the shivers were a reaction to his muscled back flexing each time he bent to rinse away more blood. In reality, exhaustion had claimed its due. The sprint through the trees, the fight, and the blood loss took their toll. Dreams whispered to me, and the insistency of them depressed me. What more could I possibly learn other than more pain and death? And sadly, I didn’t have the strength to wrestle Luke down and Claim him, like I’d threatened to, to stop them.
Standing in the cold facing the inevitable, I just wanted to get on the bike, wrap my arms around his waist, and let them have me. I knew he wouldn’t like me sleeping while we drove, but I didn’t want to delay getting to the Compound by stopping at one more hotel and falling asleep there. It just increased the chances of another run-in with the others.
He doused his hair one more time and turned toward me as he shook the water from it. Sunlight glinted off the droplets that flew. Rivulets ran down his chest. Steam rolled off him. When he turned still dripping water, his eyes roamed over my face for a moment. Concern crept into his eyes as his gaze flicked to the arm I held to my middle. I didn’t try to straighten or pull it away. The cut hurt. I couldn’t hide that. But it wouldn’t stop my determination to push on.
“If we drive straight through, how long ‘til we get there?”
“If nothing happens? Ten to twelve hours depending on the roads we take.”
“We need to push through. I can’t take another run in,” I said. He opened his mouth to argue. “No, Luke,” I sighed before he spoke. “I can’t. I’m done. Do you get it? Just, done.” I hurt too much physically, and I had the depressing knowledge that I would hurt more in the near future due to the dreams. I lacked the optimism to fool myself into believing we’d make it through what waited.
He strode over to me with an intense light in his eyes. Both hands gripped my arms lightly. He gave them a gentle squeeze and then pulled me to his chest, hugging me close despite the arm still wrapped protectively around my stomach. His lips grazed my hair, and he laid his cheek on top my head.
“Don’t give up,” he whispered. “Not now.”
He held me for a moment. I soaked up the comfort and the heat he radiated. I really wanted everything to be okay. I just knew we were in too deep for it to be that way.
“We need to get moving,” I said. “Every minute we stay in one place, the more likely they are to find us again.”
He pulled back and lifted my chin so my eyes met his. We studied each other for several minutes. His eyes expressed more than his words because his worry and fear shone there. “We’ll get there,” he promised.
He wanted my acknowledgement, but I wouldn’t lie. Instead, my gaze drifted down to his lips. The memory of his kiss started my heart thumping in a heavy rhythm. I didn’t want to think about the Compound, the journey there, or the men who’d be waiting to attack us. I wanted to lose myself in the way he made me feel just one more time.
My other arm took on a life of its own and drifted from my side to his back. The heat of his skin warmed my cold fingers as I traced the ridges on his muscles.
“Bethi,” he begged. “Don’t.”
His stupid, misguided moral compass was a pain in my butt. “Don’t what? Don’t think of how that kiss felt? Don’t wish that you’d let your guard down enough to let it happen again so I can forget everything else and imagine a world where just you and I exist? A safe place where I can sleep without haunting dreams? A place where men don’t chase me down and cut me? Yeah, I better not. Reality and morals are way better, anyway.”
I pulled away from him and walked toward the bike. He hesitated a moment and then followed. He didn’t leave me waiting long or remind me that I’d technically cut myself. I dug through the bag and handed him a clean shirt without looking at him. I couldn’t. I’d start drooling and become more bitter. It didn’t matter. The memory of his pecs and his muscled shoulders…I sighed and eased my leg over the bike settling behind him.
I flung the strap of my bag over his head and wrapped my arms around his waist. No air existed between us. My cheek pressed against his back. I closed my eyes even as he warned me not to fall asleep.
“Just get us there before I bleed out. And don’t stop because I fall asleep. Just nudge me or something.”
He pulled off the gravel shoulder with ease. A chill wind whipped my hair around my face. Even with the layers I wore, I’d freeze by the time we got to our destination. Only a werewolf would bring a motorcycle for a human in November.
We drove north pushing straight toward our destination, forgoing the erratic back road routes. We met up with a group of five other riders on motorcycles. I smiled at one before lying my head back down on Luke’s back. We would draw less attention with others.
Penny grabbed the toy from my hand and hit me.
“It’s mine,” she yelled, her face turning red.
It wasn’t her toy. It had been lying on the ground when we’d both arrived at the park. Her mother tried reasoning with Penny, but Penny swung out a hand and hit her mother’s face. Her mother, shocked by her daughter’s sudden tantrum, didn’t move to stop the second swing.
I liked Mrs. Hught and didn’t want to see Penny hit her anymore. “Stop.” I said it softly, but clearly, pushing the thought and the inaction toward Penny. Penny’s arms dropped to her side. Her face grew even redder, and she turned to glare at me.
She knew what I could do and had made me promise never to do it to her. It was a promise I had to break.
“You can’t hit your mommy,” I tried to explain.
“I can do anything I want,” she screeched at me. But we both knew that wasn’t true. The hatred in her eyes burned me, and I released her will.
She turned away from me, threw her arms around her mother’s neck, and cried. “I want to go home,” she sobbed. “I don’t want Charlene to have a sleepover anymore.”
I emerged from the dream slightly when Luke reached around to push me toward the center of his back. I’d slid to the side, dangerously unbalancing us. Shivering, I sank right back into the next waiting dream.
Sitting at the long black counter in biology class, I tried to ignore Penny’s quiet mutterings from the table behind me. We hadn’t been friends since first grade, which suited me fine. Middle school had killed any lingering traces of friendship. For two and a half years, she’d tormented me, spread rumors, and caused me nothing but trouble.
I’d been pulled into the counselor’s office at least twice a week for the last three months to discuss the malicious relationship we had. The school was just trying to cover themselves in a bullying case, but I had sat there and listened to Penny’s pathetic explanations for the rumors she’d started.
Something hit the back of my head. I turned as I reached back to feel my hair. Gum. Penny didn’t meet my eyes but looked straight at the teacher as if she’d been paying attention the whole time.
“Ms. Farech. Is there a problem?” Mr. Melski asked from the front of the room.
“Yes.” I struggled to keep all the emotion from my voice. “Someone just threw gum in my hair.” I stood and picked up my books. “I’ll see if someone in the office can help.”
His eyes flicked to Penny. The faculty knew. So why in the heck did they let her sit behind me? It was a small school. Because we were in the same grade, we had most of our classes together. Not all, though, because I’d managed to squeak into a few of the advanced ones. Hard classes, but I loved them because she wasn’t there.
I kept my pace even as I walked out the door.
The secretary, an older woman who yelled at most kids, made a sympathetic noise when I walked in and showed her the gum. I hadn’t touched it much and had walked carefully so it wasn’t too embedded.
“Why on earth does Penny dislike you so much?” she asked as she worked.
“Because when we were kids, I told her not to hit her mom.” The truth, yet not all of it. Penny was the only one who knew my secret. Never once did I give the rumors she had started any credence. But, she and I both knew I could do what she claimed. I just didn’t let her push me to do it openly.
The secretary extracted the gum wad within minutes, only taking a few strands with it.
“Make sure you don’t sit near her at the assembly,” she warned just before I left.
As if I would purposely do so.
I went to the bathroom to check my hair before heading back to class. Hopefully Penny wasn’t chewing more gum in anticipation of my return. The door opened behind me. Penny’s eyes met mine in the mirror.
“Why?” I asked, turning. “What do you get from doing this? You were never mean when we were little.” She continued to eye me hatefully. I tried again. “We were friends once.”
“Ha!” she barked bitterly. “You were never my friend. You never listened to me.”
I knew exactly what she meant. She’d wanted me to use my ability to make her mom look away so we could sneak candy when we went to her house. She didn’t understand as I did that my ability wasn’t meant for that. Somehow I’d always known I shouldn’t misuse my power.
“You always asked too much,” I said sadly. “Just let this go.”
“No. At some point you’ll make a mistake, and I want to be there so everyone knows I was right about you.” She reached out and slapped the books from my arms. They tumbled to the floor.
“All you’re going to prove is how mean you can be,” I said glancing down at the books. She didn’t answer.
When I bent to pick them up, she pushed me over. I snapped and grabbed hold of her will.
“Stop.” She froze poised in a half-crouch ready to come after me. I held her still with my will, but I forced nothing else on her. I felt bad enough for holding her like that. “I’m really sorry, Penny, but this has gone on long enough. Forget your hate. Remember the friendship we once had.” I picked up my books and stood. “Don’t try to hurt me again.”
I walked out the door intending to get a good head start before I released her. From behind, I heard her yell through the door, “I still can’t move!”
The dream shifted, but not far. I still wore the same clothes.
Sitting on the gym bleachers surrounded by the entire student body, I looked around warily for Penny. She would hate me even more, now. I should have made her forget. I just couldn’t bring myself to mess with someone’s head like that. It wasn’t like anyone really believed her. Other than the bullying, she wasn’t a threat to me. I had no justification for taking the extreme measure of robbing her of her memories.
“As some of you know, there have been cases of bullying. This is a serious matter that this school will not take lightly. We have a short film to help educate you on what steps should be taken if you are bullied, or witness bullying.”
The overhead lights dimmed and a beam of light from the AV room near the top of the gym pierced the gloom. The AV room, a recent addition accessed by a set of stairs outside of the gym, was prized by the faculty as a means to broadcast school news.
A shot of the girl’s bathroom burst onto the white gym wall we used for projection. My mouth popped open as I saw myself walk into the bathroom and go to the mirror. Some students near me started laughing quietly. The faculty, standing on the gym floor, started conferring in whispers as on screen, Penny walked in and we started talking.
One of the teachers left the gym presumably to reach the AV room and stop the movie. The lights in the gym turned on as Penny knocked the books out of my hand. No one moved. Everyone stayed focused on the projection. My stomach filled with piercing shards of ice.
“The assembly is over. Return to your last hour class. Those with Physical Education should go to the locker rooms and wait there,” the principal shouted, unable to use his microphone as the PA had been taken over by my voice, “All you’re going to prove is how mean you can be.”
No one moved. All eyes remained riveted on Penny as she stared at me, and I moved to retrieve the books. I could taste my panic, the flavor disgustingly reminiscent of vomit. Penny had finally succeeded.
I closed my eyes as the recording of my voice rang out. “Stop.” A murmuring rose in the gym, loud enough that others started shushing their neighbors as I gave Penny my little speech and then left the bathroom.
Opening my eyes, I caught the angle of the video change as the cameraman climbed off the toilet and opened the stall door to zoom in on Penny’s outraged face. Penny’s words, “I still can’t move,” echoed through the eerily quiet gym. The last image on the wall was of Penny suddenly falling to the floor. The projection shut off.
My face heated unnaturally. Someone next to me whispered to her neighbor, “Holy crap! Penny wasn’t lying.”
I sat up in the bleachers, surrounded by my peers. All eyes turned to me. A side door opened, and a teacher escorted a beaming Penny into the gym. As I stood, I grabbed everyone’s will but hers and planted a seed. My voice rang out. “You just witnessed proof of Penny’s dogged determination to expose something extraordinary. Instead, all she did was paint herself as a bully and show she has an amazing ability to act.”
Releasing their wills, I nudged my way through my stunned classmates. As I moved, I heard things like, “I can’t believe she was so mean,” and, “I would have slapped her face instead of walking out.”
Penny’s smug expression faltered as she noticed the change in everyone. Her mouth popped open as she stared at me. I walked up to Penny while holding the faculty back with simple wait-and-see thoughts. I stopped just in front of her.
“Whoever you had filming did a wonderful job,” I said. “If you’re this good over a no name nothing like me, I can only imagine how good you’ll be when you’re reporting on something real. Good luck.”
The sudden silence penetrated my dream. I emerged with my heart racing wondering why we’d stopped. I lifted my cheek from the warm spot on Luke’s back and, in the gloom around us, took in the shape of an old barn on a slight hill in the distance.
“Why did we stop?” I asked when he loosened the strap.
“I’d rather approach the Compound in daylight,” he said quietly.
My determination to push through bowed to his practical reasoning. I didn’t really want to face a horde in the dark either. I didn’t have their enhanced eyesight.
“How is the cut?”
I pulled the strap from over his head and climbed off the back. My legs ached from sitting so long, but I didn’t try stretching them out. The back of his shirt was stained with my blood, but it looked dark and dry. I shrugged in response to his question and asked, “Why here?”
He walked over to me, unzipped the jacket, and once again gently tugged at the hem of my shirt. Only this time, it didn’t lift. The blood had dried to the shirt. He frowned as he answered, “They are too used to looking at hotels. I thought this would be safer.”
”This” meant sleeping in the barn. He continued to look worriedly at my stomach as if he could see through the fabric. “Some real sleep sounds good,” I murmured, trying to reassure him.
He sighed and gently touched my cheek. “You’ll tell me if it starts hurting,” he ordered softly.
I snorted. “It hasn’t stopped hurting.”
He smiled at me and dropped his hand. “I imagine not,” he commented as he shifted the bike into neutral and began pushing it toward the building. I zipped back up and slowly followed. Patches of snow coated the ground between tufts of long grass. Shivers trembled through me.
The barn leaned heavily to one side. Many of its old boards had rotted at the base. Still, Luke pushed the bike into the gaping door. Any hint of the dusk’s fading light disappeared after two steps. Disturbing the layer of dust covering the floor with my steps caused the smell of old, musty hay to fill my nose, and I sneezed once. It killed my stomach.
“I’ll look around,” he said a moment before he disappeared into the dark. I looked back at the door, just barely outlined now, and stayed where I stood.
“It’s empty and untouched. We’ll stay here for a few hours.”
He took me by the hand and led me further into the black. He flicked on a tiny LED flashlight attached to the bike keys and pointed to an empty stall partitioned by a half wall. I blushed as I understood and quickly grabbed the flashlight and shooed him away. I’d lived many lifetimes without the convenience of a toilet, but that was in the past. I liked flushing and washing.
After I finished, I moved into the hay-filled aisle, clicked off the flashlight, and shuffled toward the front of the building.
“Here,” Luke murmured after I’d walked half the length. I paused and felt a tug on the bag. He led me off to the side and gently nudged me down onto some old hay.
“If I wake up to bugs crawling on me, I will not be happy,” I whispered waiting for him to settle next to me.
When he lay still, I used my hands to find him. He lay on his back, and I pressed close to his side. His warmth became a halo around me.
“I promise, I will keep them off of you,” his low voice rumbled under my ear as I settled my cheek on his chest. Too bad he kept his shirt on. Skin to skin, I tended not to dream at all. I flattened my hand on his shirt and let my fingers thaw.
“I’m glad you’re warm,” I mumbled, my eyes already closing. At least I wasn’t freezing. My stomach hurt, my legs ached from all the kicking and moving I’d done during the fight, and my arms just felt like they would fall off. Dreaming might not be the worst.
“Though she’s a pleasure to be around, we’ve noticed she’s very aggressive with others. I wanted to suggest an outlet for her energy.” The daycare administrator handed my father a slip of paper. We sat in her office, just the three of us. My legs dangled from the chair, and I idly swung them back and forth. Moving helped. I didn’t feel so mad then. I arched my neck to look at the paper. It had a picture of a man kicking and some words. I didn’t care about the words, though. I liked the picture. I liked kicking.
The dream shifted.
The other kids congregated around the playground equipment, laughing and chasing each other. I stood back, watching them play with a smile, but not joining. Whenever I tried, they stopped playing to lie around. Sometimes a few of them even took naps. Meanwhile, something inside me grew, tightening my skin to the point of discomfort, to the point I grew angry. So I stood on the outskirts, never really joining, and they let me be though they threw an occasional friendly wave my way. Everybody liked me. They couldn’t help it. I made them feel good.
A new boy walked over to one of my classmates and took the ball from her hands. Her lips quivered, but she didn’t cry. Instead she walked away. I felt indignant for her and watched the boy stalk away from the group to play sullenly with the ball. I frowned at him.
With most of my classmates further away, I approached him knowing my skin wouldn’t tighten too much.
“Why did you do that?” I demanded.
He looked up at me with narrowed eyes. Anger, hurt, and uncertainty flooded me.
“Why are you so mad?” I asked. Usually the people around me were happy. But even happiness, when I soaked up too much, made me feel tight inside.
His eyes opened a little wider before they narrowed again. He balled his fist and swung at me.
I blocked just as my instructor had taught me. The boy dropped the ball to try another swing. I blocked again. He gave a growl of frustration and started swinging wildly. I continued to block the blows, flowing into the different stances and moves, enjoying the movement. The emotions poured off him, and I unwillingly soaked them up, but what we did helped burn them out of me. Soon I could see him tiring and took two quick steps back. I didn’t want to drain him. I liked that he didn’t lie down like the other kids did. He was different, and playing with him helped me. I felt deflated in a good way. I bowed to him as I’d been taught.
I smiled at his shocked expression. “Do you want me to show you how to block next recess?”
He nodded his mop of sandy blonde hair. I felt the tears hiding behind his grey eyes and reached for his hand, willing to help him again. I took his hurt away as the teacher walked over to us to scold us for fighting.
“We weren’t fighting,” I explained. “We’re training. He’s my partner now.” I wouldn’t need to stand alone anymore.
The teacher shook her head indulgently and shooed us inside.
“What’s your name?” the boy asked.
“Isabelle. What’s yours?”
“Ethan.”
“We’re less than an hour away,” Luke called over his shoulder. The move twisted the healing bite on his neck. I hated seeing it, probably as much as he hated the cut on my stomach. His injury, at least, healed faster.
I nodded in response, but otherwise kept scrunched behind Luke. Heavy wet snow blanketed the ground. The wind bit into my skin, chilling it until it stung. I couldn’t tell if I felt so cold because of the temperature, which barely hovered above freezing, or because of a fever. My stomach had hurt when I woke, and I worried that the moldy air, or dirty clothes I wore, might have caused an infection.
“Shit,” Luke swore and swerved.
I lifted my head from his back, but didn’t see anything. Turning, I saw a werewolf running behind us. Before I could panic, Luke opened the throttle, and the bike screamed down the road, distancing us from our pursuer.
“They know,” he yelled back at me.
No kidding. I clung to Luke, watching our pursuer. There were only three roads into the pack’s territory and ultimately to the Compound. One came in from the north, one from the southwest, and another from the east. We’d abandoned the eastern route when we’d run into them last time. When they’d found me south of here, we’d kept heading north hoping they’d think we’d switch from the obvious. There was no turning around anymore. We were too close. They now knew our direction and would be ready.
The lone wolf stopped running and stood in the middle of the paved lane, no doubt communicating to the rest of the pack. The bike screamed down the road. I didn’t dare try peeking around Luke to see how fast we went. If the wind had hurt before, it really tore at me now. We rode for another ten minutes without sighting anything. Then, hell opened its mouth and started spitting at us.
A fully changed werewolf ran in front of us, trying to slow Luke down. Luke didn’t let up on the throttle. Somehow, he avoided the beast without dumping the bike. I locked my hands around his waist and carefully looked back. The furry shapes of too many werewolves to count in a glance ran behind us. Determined to gain ground.
Luke used his left hand to dig in his right pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He pressed a few buttons and held it to his ear. Fearing what driving one handed at these speeds could do to us, I wanted to close my eyes but didn’t think that was too smart.
“Gabby, I have a problem,” he shouted over the roar of the engine.
A problem was a bit of an understatement. We had an army of werewolves following us, a traitor in Luke’s band of friends, and he was calling for help while driving at breakneck speeds. I couldn’t decide what to freak out over more.
Something flew from the left, hitting the tank with a loud bang and knocking the phone from Luke’s hand. As the object had flashed toward us, I’d thought it looked like a chunk of wood but couldn’t be sure. The phone hit me in the face and fell between us. A growl erupted uncomfortably close to our right. Maybe a call for help wasn’t out of order.
I shimmied an arm between us, snatched the phone up, and tried to redial the number. The first try didn’t go through. The second time, it went through, and I was so excited the phone almost slid from my fingers.
“Luke?” a female voice answered after the first ring.
“No. Bethi. We need help,” I shouted into the phone. The wind made it almost impossible to hear if she said anything back. “There are too many. They can’t take me. If they do, we all die. Please!” I shouted which road we raced down. I closed the phone and kept it scrunched in my fist.
More werewolves started pouring from the trees in front of us.
“Don’t let go!” Luke shouted as he began swerving. He tilted us so far once, I thought we were going down for sure. But he righted us and opened the throttle again.
The mass of wolves chasing us had gained too much ground when we slowed slightly because of the swerving. One caught my jacket, but I held tight to Luke and heard a tear. Another ran beside the bike, but I caught it—and me—by surprise by kicking out with my foot and connecting with its face. The blow tripped him up more than hurt him, but it knocked him back into his followers causing several of them to fall back.
Ahead of us, a group of six wolves burst from the woods and raced toward us. Now that they knew our direction, they were probably pulling their numbers from the other routes.
“If you get us out of this alive, I swear I’ll stop trying to ambush-Claim you,” I yelled to Luke.
I braced myself as the oncoming wolves flew at us…and sailed over our heads into the pack of wolves following us. I twisted around in surprise. Help had arrived.
Two moved incredibly fast, taking a chunk out of the mass following us. The other four raced alongside us, keeping most of the wolves out of our way.
Ahead, a bend in the road obscured our view of what lay beyond. Luke eased up on the throttle, and I wondered if he had the same suspicion as I did about what waited ahead. He skidded to a dangerous sideways stop that made my stomach try to crawl out of my mouth, severed the strap connecting us, and leapt from the bike. Already transforming.
The remaining force chasing us collided with our four escorts. Luke joined them, fighting savagely, tearing into anyone who got too close to me. The other werewolves circled us, outnumbering us six to one. I scrambled from the bike too fast and felt the knitting cut on my stomach reopen. Wetness trailed down my stomach, and I cringed. A wave of dizziness washed over me. All of the wolves around me caught the scent, and the rapid movements slowed. Their gazes flew to me as I stumbled and bumped into the bike. It rocked but steadied under me. I bent toward the ground to catch my breath and shake the murk from my head.
No food, no water, and bleeding. Not a good combination.
When I lifted my head, seven wolves circled around me keeping the others at bay. I fumbled in the bag for my knife, relieved when I clasped the handle. An attacking wolf leapt high trying to clear the circle, but one of my defenders jumped up to meet him. The move knocked them both back into the waiting melee and created an opening in my defense. Another of the enemy ran forward to take advantage of the break, but a sleek grey wolf spun from the circle and used a swipe of his claws to rip away the throat of the attacker.
My eyes scanned the forms as I looked for Luke’s coppery coat. I found him in a sea of attackers—Luke had been the wolf who’d blocked the attacker’s jump. They bit at Luke, tearing into his skin as he swirled, swiped, and savaged those around him. None of the defenders encircling me moved to help Luke. Without thought, I shuffled toward him. My heart hammered, and my palms grew cold and clammy as another line of blood marred Luke’s coat.
“No,” I whispered as another attacker sunk his teeth into Luke’s neck. Luke still hadn’t recovered from the last bite he’d received. Possessiveness swelled along with anger.
“I have run,” I croaked with an emotion-tight voice. I straightened and dropped the arm protecting my middle. “I have bled.” I moved forward, determined. “I have remembered.” My voice rose and some of those on the outskirts of the fighting angled their heads to watch me. “I am the Wisdom of the Judgements, and I will not fail again!” I screamed at them, flipping the knife in my hand, and throwing hard through the tangle of bodies. The blade flew true, sinking into the eye socket of the one attached to Luke. “Bite him again and I will rip your tongue from your mouth!” I promised.
Two turned from Luke and moved toward me. I touched the hindquarter of the grey wolf in front of me.
“Pick me up,” I demanded, not caring that he fought with several wolves. He slashed wildly, spun toward me, shifting so his arms looked more human and capable of throwing, and lifted me.
“Throw me to him,” I said, pointing at the screaming wolf clawing at the knife in his eye. I saw the grey wolf’s hesitation to throw me into that mess and touched his face.
“Now!”
Catapulted into the air, I tucked into a ball and closed my eyes as I somersaulted toward Luke. Remember. Remember. I’d never done this myself. Never my own body. But another of my sisters had. I opened my eyes as I felt the downward pull of gravity. The wolf was just below me. He wasn’t paying attention, but others around him were. They moved to try to catch me. Luke looked up, causing an opening for another injury.
I swore again, untucked myself, and twisted to land on the wolf with the knife in his eye, bringing us both to the ground. The impact killed my stomach, ripping me further. I grunted in pain but still managed to pull the knife from his eye. It caught slightly on the bone of his socket. The wolf screamed. I silenced him with a swipe before I stood. A wall of man-wolf bodies leaned in around me. Luke growled and raged just beyond.
“Time to die,” I whispered with a slight smile.
Several pairs of eyes widened in surprise as I swiped out in a spinning turn and sliced open their soft underbellies. Yeah, I knew how bad that hurt. Ignoring the grunts of pain, I dodged their attempts to grab at me. I fell to my knees and swiped again, darting the blade behind their knees. Three dropped to my level. Three more crowded in. The handle started to slip in my grip. I swung out again.
A horn blared long and loud. A few of the wolves around me looked up as a white wolf landed on the three new wolves thinking to have at me. Another wolf with a brown coat landed behind me, his growl sent a shiver down my spine. He didn’t attack anyone. He partially transformed to lift me, his big hands gentle. Something in his soft brown eyes stayed my knife.
He jumped and brought me back into the circle of six bodies that still surrounded the bike. There he set me on my feet with a firm “stay” and leapt back into the dying fray. Despite the odds, we were winning. Four of the wolves fighting with us moved with such incredible speed and agility that they each faced at least four opponents at once.
Bodies started flying through the air as the wolf who’d saved me started throwing the injured and dead away from the immediate area. The attackers’ numbers halved. And then, as one, they turned and fled. No one gave chase. As the road cleared of attackers, two cars sped past and turned the curve in the road that I knew led to the Compound. Several of the wolves turned their heads to watch the vehicles pass, but no one made a move to stop or follow them. In the window of one, I saw a little boy’s face.
I bent slightly, curving an arm around my stomach again and was surprised my guts weren’t leaking out, yet. Then Luke was beside me, pushing me toward the bike. He bled from several lacerations and no longer wore a shirt. Tinker Bell covered his bottom half. I smiled and sobbed at the same time.
Luke sat on the bike, and someone lifted me up behind him. Everyone moved quickly. We all recognized the need to leave before another bout could begin. I draped against him too hurt and tired to do more. Finding a clean spot near his shoulder blade, I turned my head and gave him a kiss.
Somehow, we’d done it again. Survived. Tears trailed down my cheeks to drip onto his skin.
The wolves ran beside us as we sped to the Compound. I shook and clung to Luke. Blood covered his back, again.
