fate of the alpha - episode 3 Page 6

But she barely heard him.

  That guy Grace had dated, Landon What’s-his-name, was staggering down the center of Princeton Avenue. His lip was split and there was blood in his dark curls and all over the white t-shirt that peeked out of the flannel he wore. He staggered a little as he walked, and squinted at the house numbers.

  Ainsley cleared the porch railing in one bound. It took all her energy not to shift. Her wolf was snapping her jaws at the surface of Ainsley’s conscience.

  “What happened?” she asked, as she met him in the street.

  He looked at her in shock and she slipped an arm around his shoulder to guide him toward the house.

  Julian was already on the front walk and he took the boy’s other arm. Together they led him to the wicker love seat on the porch, where he collapsed.

  “What happened?” Ainsley asked again, urgency pushing her voice higher. She could smell Grace’s fear on this young man.

  “Grace came over to my place,” he began.

  Ainsley’s wolf was on high alert. She heard Julian’s pulse speed and smelled his sweat beading. He was jealous.

  “We went for a walk,” Landon continued, “and then the shadows...” he trailed off, and his eyes went out of focus.

  He was in shock.

  “Landon. You have to tell us what happened,” Ainsley told him in her sternest alpha voice. “No matter how crazy it seems.”

  He blinked twice, then turned to her.

  “The shadows came to life. They swallowed up Grace. I tried to stop it, but they were so strong...”

  Ainsley stood and slipped her phone from her pocket. She paced over to the other side of the porch, and dialed 9-1-1.

  Julian placed a hand on Landon’s forehead. She listened with half her mind as she explained the situation into the phone.

  “You took a nasty spill over the handlebars of your mountain bike,” Julian told Landon in a silken voice. “You hit your head. The part with the shadows wasn’t real. Just a bump on the head.”

  By the time she got off the phone with the Springton dispatch Landon was looking relieved and leaning back against the cushions of the love seat.

  Within ten minutes he was being carried away in the back of an ambulance. If anyone noticed the lack of a bike at the scene, they didn’t mention it.

  As soon as they were alone again, Ainsley looked to Julian.

  “How much prana would the thing have to absorb to be strong enough to come out without the key?” she asked.

  “I don’t really know,” he replied uncertainly. “At least a dozen people’s worth, I would guess.”

  Ainsley thought of what she had seen inside the key — the strings, the lights of the townsfolk shining at the end of each, and Grace, eclipsing the brightest of them.

  “What about one really powerful person?” she asked.

  CHAPTER 12

  The unshakable feeling of another presence in his room interrupted Erik’s dreamless sleep.

  He opened his eyes to see a dark figure sitting at the foot of his bed. The two had never met, but Erik knew the man beyond any shadow of doubt.

  Jake Miller.

  Jake had the assured demeanor of a true alpha, but he carried a heaviness on his shoulders.

  Erik wondered for a moment if he recognized Jake from a family photo or if he knew the alpha because he still had a touch of the wolf in himself after all.

  “It’s too late to fix things,” Jake said, staring at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling. He spoke as though they had been talking for a long time already.

  “Why?” Erik asked.

  “It fed on my men. It’s almost strong enough to break free,” he said, looking down at his big, callused hands. “We should never have gone in after it. I’ve doomed the entire pack.”

  “What should we do?” Erik asked.

  “Evacuate the town, Erik Jensen,” Jake said, turning to Erik with fire in his eyes. “Take everyone far away, before it lures in another poor soul. The mine needs to be condemned, and the pack needs to get away, before they end up like me.”

  Jake opened his mouth and a snake slowly slithered out.

  Erik woke in a cold sweat to the sound of a high pitched scream. It wasn’t his own.

  LeeAnn.

  Erik threw himself out of bed and rushed through Mary’s room in his boxers. She was already up, standing at the edge of her bed.

  He took the stairs two at a time and found LeeAnn at the wide open front door.

  “Ruth! Rachel!” she screamed in a voice that was raw with panic.

  Cold air rushed in, filling the living room with an ominous chill and blowing LeeAnn’s yellow nightgown out behind her. Erik spun to take in the room, but he was sure in his soul that the girls weren’t in the house.

  So, apparently, was LeeAnn. She ran into the front yard and he followed her. He couldn’t help searching the view of the creek, praying not to see two small bodies floating.

  LeeAnn pulled the Tweety Bird nightgown over her head and tossed it to the ground. Erik got a glimpse of pale breasts and the curve of the c-section scar on her belly highlighted in the stark moonlight before she dropped onto all fours and bristled into an earthy brown wolf.

  The mother wolf lifted its delicate snout and let out a long, mournful howl that echoed off the surrounding mountains.

  Lights began to turn on in the bungalows up and down the street.

  LeeAnn dropped her nose and loped off into the darkness. She was headed in the direction of the library. And the mine.

  “We should follow her,” Mary’s voice said, inches from Erik’s ear. He hadn’t even heard her follow him. “We need to shift, now.”

  “No,” he said quickly, turning to her.

  Mary studied him quizzically, while Zeke watched from the doorway.

  “Zeke can’t shift yet,” he ventured. “And besides, I know where she’s headed. Meet me at my truck.”

  He ran inside for a pair of jeans and his keys, then shuffled them into the truck.

  Zeke sat glassy-eyed in the backseat. It was clear he wasn’t awake enough to understand that his little sisters were really missing.

  “I was jealous,” Mary said, almost inaudibly from the passenger seat. “I didn’t like taking care of them all the time.”

  Erik was driving fast on a barely familiar road, but he spared her a glance. The lights from the houses strobed on her serious face.

  “This isn’t your fault,” he told her. “I promise. Now, whatever happens, I don’t want you going anywhere near that mine. Understood?”

  “Hey!” she yelled.

  Erik turned back to the road just in time to pull up. Bonnie was running toward the truck, waving her hands, her flaming hair dark against a white night gown.

  She pulled open the back door and slid into the rear cab with Zeke.

  “I’m coming with you. I’ll watch the kids,” she said.

  Erik pulled out again, fast enough to skid a little. The mine was just ahead. He took the sharp turn into the parking lot in time to see LeeAnn’s lupine form bound through the gates.

  Then he spotted them.

  The gravel flew as he threw the truck into park. He was out before it had fully stopped. He had to get to the mine before LeeAnn.

  The twins slowly approached the entrance to the mine.

  Though their usual way was to fight and roughhouse, now, the sisters held hands solemnly.

  Their small bare feet tread the sharp gravel and their short legs met the night air under the flimsy t-shirts they must have been sleeping in. It was cold, but the girls didn’t seem to notice. They were fixated on the mouth of the mine.

  Something began to build in Erik’s chest. Never had he felt this kind of anger or fear. And there was no wolf to turn to, to take the brunt of this emotion and demolish it with action.

  He was no wolf, but he was still fast. He tore across the gravel and circled the twins in time to block them from the mine. They stared at him in confusion.

  LeeAn
n was there in a heartbeat.

  Thank god, she didn’t seem affected by the call of the thing in the mine. Her protective instincts were too powerful.

  She shifted and wrapped the girls in her strong arms, moaning in wordless relief, tears striping her cheeks.

  At their mother’s touch, the girls seemed to come back to life. They cried too, though Erik was pretty sure they were only crying because their mother was crying.

  “What were you doing?” LeeAnn asked them tremulously.

  “We... we saw Daddy!” Rachel said happily, remembering.

  “He told us. He told us to come,” Ruth insisted, looking like she was worried she might be in trouble.

  LeeAnn wrapped a hand around her own mouth in horror.

  Erik knelt in the gravel and put a hand on each girl’s shoulder.

  “Girls, what you saw wasn’t really your daddy,” he explained gently.

  “It was my daddy.” Ruth shook her little head. “I saw him.”

  Erik realized it was too late. He was out of time. He couldn’t convince the whole town to evacuate. He couldn’t even convince a five year old.

  Another wave of furious despair hit him and he struggled to breathe. How could he watch it happen, helplessly?

  He heard footsteps in the gravel and turned to find Bonnie and Mary approaching.

  “What happened?” Bonnie asked.

  Mary had thrown herself down with her mom and sisters. Zeke joined them.

  Watching them, Erik Jensen understood his purpose here. The knowledge shook him to his core and filled him with both sadness and glory.

  “Remember that favor I asked you?” he said to Bonnie. She looked at him strangely, but nodded. “Get the message to Ainsley for me.”

  Erik turned back to the huge piece of equipment he’d recognized yesterday. It was similar enough to one of his own front end loaders. It shouldn’t be a problem for him to operate. He hoped it was big enough for what he had in mind.

  He jogged over. As he expected, the key was in the ignition. It always was. This type of equipment was in no danger of being stolen.

  “What’s he doing?” he heard Mary ask, her voice quavering.

  “It’s going to be alright, Mary.” He turned back to meet her gaze. “You need to be strong now for your family. Whatever happens, do not go in that mine!”

  He turned away, the naked despair in her eyes too much for him to bear. She began to protest, but he turned the key and the machine came to life with a tremendous roar, shutting out the rest of the world.

  “Erik!” Mary cried. But she sounded very far away.

  Erik swung the machine into gear and headed straight for the mine.

  A warm sense of calm fell over him, and his thoughts turned to his love. He hoped Ainsley would be proud of him.

  CHAPTER 13

  In Ainsley’s eyes, the thing under the field house suddenly transformed from a theoretical danger into something horribly real.

  Grace, her darling, Grace, who was both stalwart and silly, was now in its clutches.

  “Let’s go,” she told Julian. “Now.”

  “Go on ahead,” Julian said, his face expressionless. “I’ll catch up with you. I have to get something first.”

  She wanted to argue, but there was no time. He knew the creature better than any of them. If he needed to stop for something, it must have been important.

  Ainsley found herself sailing over the porch railing for the second time in an hour. As she sprinted up Princeton and swung the left onto Elm, she focused on a mental call to her lieutenant.

  Cressida. I need you.

  Spooky decorations festooned the town, all part of the yearly parade and celebration. Halloween had always been big in Tarker’s Hollow. The irony of seeing the town draped in ghosts and skeletons pained Ainsley, and she ran faster, hoping not to bump into anyone she knew.

  Cressida met her on the other side of Yale. She fairly flew out of the woods in spite of her less than sensible attire. Ainsley had almost forgotten how fast she was.

  As they drew closer, she realized Cressida wore black leather boots with a three inch heel. Fishnet thigh highs ended before her skirt began. A thin pirate blouse above it was cinched to her narrow torso with a leather corset, which pressed her tiny breasts together into the semblance of cleavage. A sequined eye patch hung on a length of elastic around her neck.

  “Wow, you’re really getting into the Halloween sprit, huh?” Ainsley remarked as they ran to the field house.

  “Is that today?” Cressida asked.

  Ainsley tried not to overthink the outfit and focused on the task at hand.

  “Cressida, we’re in real trouble. Charley has Grace and he’s going to feed her to the moroi unless we let it loose,” she explained as calmly as she could.

  “What’s a moroi?” Cressida asked, looking less than enthused.

  Oh god. She didn’t know. There hadn’t been time.

  “moroi are like vampires, except they feed on human souls, not just blood. According to Ophelia and Julian, the purpose of the wolf packs is to guard their tombs,” she explained, hoping she wouldn’t scare the girl into abandoning their rescue attempt.

  “So, like vampires,” Cressida said thoughtfully. “Are they hot like the ones in Buffy? Or corny like the Twilight one?”

  “I... I have no idea,” Ainsley stammered.

  “Just fucking with you,” Cressida winked. “I heard the whole thing already from MacGregor. Just tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

  Ainsley wasn’t sure whether to slap Cressida or kiss her. She wished the moon weren’t still full enough to make her eyes linger on the place where the tops of Cressida’s fishnets met her slender thighs.

  “Just follow my lead,” she said. “I’m not really sure how this is going to go down. But they can’t have Grace and they can’t unleash their monster on my pack either.”

  Cressida set her jaw and nodded in a way that told Ainsley she was ready to throw down. Ainsley’s wolf growled approval in her chest.

  The barn doors at the back of the field house were already open. Once inside, Ainsley slid it shut behind them. It wouldn’t do for anyone to wander into this fight.

  The normal scents of lawn equipment and fresh cut grass filled Ainsley’s nose. But her sensitive wolf ears heard the sickening pulse of something large and wet that didn’t belong.

  She hurried to the rear corner, praying that the trap door wasn’t sealed. She didn’t think she could repeat that business Julian had done before. And she certainly wasn’t going to wait for him.

  Thankfully, the door stood wide open. It looked like someone had been through in a hurry.

  “Lux ex tenebris,” Ainsley whispered, and smiled at the fluttering sensation from her fingertips at the arrival of her magical fireflies. Merrily, they sparked ahead of her, lighting the way down the rungs of the ladder in a cheerful way that seemed at odds with the gravity of the situation.

  As soon as her feet hit the wet stones that made up the floor of the corridor, Ainsley took off at a run. Every fiber of her being longed to shift, but she knew she would need her human brain to negotiate what lay ahead.

  The cold, wet air seeped into her lungs as she ran, the clicking of Cressida’s heels ringing on the stones behind her. Cressida was faster, but she held back, letting Ainsley take the lead.

  Like the last time, Ainsley had nearly given up on there being anything below the field house but an endless corridor, when she saw a sliver of light from the archway in the distance.

  Ainsley slowed her pace and put a finger to her lips, signaling Cressida to be quiet.

  Cressida tapped her own temple, reminding Ainsley that she need only think a command, and her bond as alpha would do the rest.

  Of course. Ainsley wished, for the hundredth time, that she were better trained at the whole alpha thing. Maybe some time away with Ophelia was just what she needed.

  Together, she and Cressida slipped down the last few feet without so much as a
single boot heel click.

  Ainsley pressed herself to the cold stone wall and angled her cheek to steal a glance into the room.

  What she saw there filled her with rage.

  Grace.

  Bound and kneeling on the floor, her navy blue uniform, in which she took so much pride, rumpled and streaked with dirt.

  Charley Coslaw stood over her, holding a gun to her head with a relaxed indifference.

  How could this be the same man that donated all of the decorative flowerbeds in the town square, and had a standing order for 500 boxes of cookies from the local Girl Scout troop?

  The acrid tang of Grace’s fear-filled scent told Ainsley that her friend had been roughed up, but not assaulted sexually. This knowledge filled her with relief and fury at once.

  Again, she had to choke down the shift that was building in her blood. Her very bones seemed to twist against her will, and it took all her discipline not to let them betray her.

  Grace, who was facing Ainsley, had given no sign of seeing her. That was wise, because if Grace looked at Ainsley, so would Charley, and Ainsley would lose any chance of surprising him.

  “I’m afraid Clive Warren used my last silver bullet,” Charley said, his voice expressing his repugnance for the former sheriff. “But I don’t think that will matter for your friend.”

  Fuck. So much for surprise.

  “You’re not going to shoot her,” Ainsley said firmly as she stepped through the archway. “You need her alive to use her as a key.”

  “It’s true,” he said. “She makes a good key. But there are other ways to release the master.”

  “Not without a key,” Ainsley replied.

  “Okay then, Ainsley,” he said with sly smile that looked out of place on his friendly face. “So you come for me. I shoot Grace. You kill me. Problem solved, right?”

  His sarcastic tone told Ainsley all she needed to know.

  Charley Coslaw had underestimated her. In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, he believed her to be the same goody-two-shoes she’d been all those years ago. A girl who could never see harm come to her friend.

  Fortunately, Ainsley labored under no such delusions about Charley. She knew exactly what he was.