Forged Redemption, page 4
part #5 of Tribal Spirits Series
“Grade A, right here,” Drew said, lifting the package and pointing to the label. He didn’t bother hiding his grin when Ally rolled her eyes. “Let’s go pay and get out of here,” he said, casting another glance. “All your complaining is holding us up.”
Ally’s perfect eyebrows drew together, and her mouth dropped. He sauntered past her toward the checkout, aware of the imminent explosion he’d left behind. The door creaked open and the bell tinkled, drawing his attention.
Two guys strolled in and Drew froze.
He didn’t recognize the big hulker on the right, but the other one caused him to stop still. The narrow eyes, long chin and languid movements—he remembered those from his Landslider days. Harry was one of the mainstays, a bear shifter that had been with Mackey for years. Someone who would recognize him.
Drew took a few steps back and reached out to snag Ally’s hand. The grocery trip didn’t matter. If they didn’t escape here unseen, they might as well just call the whole recon mission quits. To his relief, Ally didn’t argue, reacting with the calm poise and assessment he’d expected from the beta of his former pack. They ducked behind one of the shelves which barely came up past his shoulders.
Drew met Ally’s eyes and mouthed, “Landsliders.”
She nodded, crouching by his side. Drew let his mountain lion take the reins, focusing on the scuff of their shoes as they strode past the registers up front. Harry’s voice ghosted across his skin like spiderwebs, as if Drew had never left the Landsliders behind. As if he’d never broken free. Truth be told, if he hadn’t been under Tribe protection, he wouldn’t feel safe unless he evacuated the country.
Drew placed his groceries on the ground and crept forward, closer to the front of the country store. If Harry decided to stroll down this aisle to nab some pancake mix, they were fucked. The cashier murmured something, and Harry let out a bark of a laugh. The front door was the only exit, which left them no other options. With a start he realized he still held Ally’s hand, but he didn’t let go. If he needed to make any sudden movements, a quick tug worked better than trying to catch her gaze and whisper.
Besides, the simple touch of her hand quieted his beast like nothing else.
Drew reached the end of the aisle, crouched beside the display of dish soap and laundry detergent, but he didn’t dare peer out. Not yet. The chatter from up front had died, and the footsteps scraped the hardwood again. Closer. Drew sucked in a sharp breath, half a second away from shifting.
He clutched the shelf, his nails turning to claws in preparation. He cast a glance at Ally who brimmed as much as he did.
The footsteps sounded louder, until they headed down the aisle beside them. This close, he could smell their scent clear in the air. Those steps paused.
They couldn’t wait here any longer.
Drew slipped past the shelf to take the long way around to the registers, careful to keep his head down. The door lay feet away. Ally’s grip tightened when they walked hand in hand toward it. He didn’t dare look back, because Harry might catch a glimpse of his features, and they’d be caught before they ever uncovered Kendricks’ lair. His back prickled at the vulnerability. The cashiers scanned them over, pausing at their empty hands.
Drew jerked his head no, not daring to speak. So close. He didn’t dare quicken his pace, even though his calves tensed with the urge to bolt. Already, Ally’s palm grew sweaty against his.
They stepped through the door, and Drew winced as the bell tinkled behind them. The moment he hit the sunlight, he bolted for his car. He slammed against the side of his Caddy before unlocking the door and diving in. He didn’t take a breath until the passenger door clicked shut and Ally settled in beside him.
Drew leaned back in the seat, pumping the brake pedal on reflex. Even though he gripped his keys, he didn’t put them in the ignition.
“Those were Landsliders I recognized,” he muttered, hating to admit the words out loud. Every mention of his past with the group coated him in a new tar-thick coating of shame and self-loathing, until he might not ever be able to extricate himself.
Ally lifted an eyebrow. “So why aren’t we peeling out of this place to leave them in the dust?” He opened his mouth to respond—his brain leapt to the next step—when Ally’s blue eyes grew clear with understanding, and she continued, “Because you’re waiting for them to come out so we can tail them.”
Drew cracked a grin. His chest warmed at his mate’s quick thinking. Ally was bright, tough and creative, all things her mother, Rylie, had tried to pound out of her at an early age. Not like he’d been much help. Every time they made steps forward, they’d tumble back three. And when his father had strong-armed him into joining the Landsliders, he’d detached more and more with every secret he shouldered.
Ally might’ve been the one who’d broken up with him, but he didn’t question for a moment who was to blame.
“Bingo, beautiful,” he responded. “We’re lying low until they emerge.”
Ally’s features softened for a moment, the flash of vulnerability something he never could defend against. When it came to Ally, he’d always been unable to help the way he felt or how they careened together. Yet, he had no right to touch her, let alone be near her after all the terrible things he’d done. She deserved someone strong, someone good. Someone who hadn’t been forever marred by their scars.
He winked, needing to dodge past the tension between them. “If you’ve got any ideas for how to pass the time, I’m listening.”
Ally pursed her lips, leveling him with a look. “Let’s not pretend you’re capable of multitasking, Train Wreck.”
Drew swallowed hard at the nickname. Yesterday, it had awakened part of him he’d thought had died, his hollowed husk of a heart. He’d needed to drown in the sensations of his hands on her hips and his mouth against hers to stave away the complicated weight of everything he’d buried away. That had worked swimmingly.
The door to the country store creaked open, saving him from responding. Drew placed his key in the ignition as Harry and his friend headed over to their car. He and Ally ducked under the view of the dash, peering past to keep watch. Within seconds, the Landsliders hopped into their car and the engine rumbled to life. The vehicle pulled out of the spot.
Drew didn’t waste any time. He started his engine, waiting for the moment they hopped onto the road. Once the Landsliders turned to the left, his car crawled across the parking lot in pursuit.
“So, what happens when they lead us straight to World’s End State Park in the main parking lot?” Ally commented as they trailed down the highway. He could still spot the red Chevy in the distance, but he kept enough space between them in hopes they wouldn’t notice they had a tail.
“Then that tells us the lair is closer to the main parking lot,” he responded, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “There are multiple entrances, so whichever one they decide to take will narrow things down for us.”
Ally let out a low whistle. “When did you become more than just a pretty face?”
“Let’s be real. I’m not much without my looks,” Drew drawled in response. “I blame Lucas and his band of Tribe for all this planning-ahead nonsense.”
“Sure, all the bad Tribe influence,” Ally shot back. “Just like the Boy Scouts are out to corrupt wayward kids into learning discipline.”
Drew pumped on the gas, speeding to catch up with the car they tailed. All the dips in the road made it even harder to keep track of them. “Hey, we start teaching kids discipline and the next thing you’ll have is upstanding citizens. No one wants that. Chaos and malarkey for all.”
“Malarkey? What are you, eighty?” Ally cracked the window and leaned her arm out of the side. Her golden hair streamed in the breeze, silken strands he longed to run his fingers through. Spirits above, every inch of her body was pure temptation.
“Yep. Mackey better watch out, because I’m coming for him, walker and all.” Even as Drew joked around, the bastard’s name on his lips this close to his lair had his heart slamming. Ally snorted and Drew stole a glimpse in her direction right in time to see the flicker of a grin. He cherished each and every one of those, savored them like the first sip of whiskey after a long day.
In the distance, the sign for World’s End State Park rose into view, the bold yellow lettering against red-brown wood. His stomach churned at the sight. They were so close to the man who had commanded his mind and body for far too long. Bile rose in his throat. All he could see was the speckled pattern of crimson. All he could smell was the rust.
His fingers numbed, and for a moment he stood back there in yet another cabin to deliver a punishment to innocents who didn’t deserve the pain. His limbs didn’t belong to him and his claws weren’t his own, even as they sliced and sliced and sliced. Even as they grew stained beyond recognition.
“Drew?” Ally’s voice sounded.
The road stretched out ahead of him, but he’d strayed to the other side.
Fuck. Drew swerved back into line, his heart thumping so hard the sound drowned out the radio. He glanced ahead—the red Chevy still drove ahead of them in the distance. He’d almost lost track of the Landsliders. Ally stared at him—he could feel the press of her gaze even as he kept his on the winding road. Shame flushed through him. He couldn’t even do something simple like this without freezing up like a fucking coward.
And the worst thing about it?
He deserved every second of the pain and the repercussions.
Lucas and the others had repeated over and over how he had no control, how Mackey’s compulsion forced him to do unthinkable things. Yet, he was the one who lived with the memories. His claws were the ones that had sliced, and his orders were the ones that had left his pack in shambles and had broken up families in their feud. He couldn’t erase the horror in their eyes, that crystalline fear, no matter how much he tried.
Ally didn’t say anything, but she reached for him to rest her hand on his thigh. The touch brought him to the present like nothing else. They both were trash at talking the talk, but he understood.
Ahead, the road branched into a side entrance of World’s End State Park, and the Chevy they followed made the turn. Bingo.
The scent of berries lingered in the air. Ally’s scent. One that reminded him of the younger, better times when his world wasn’t composed of pain and regret. Her hand remained on his thigh, a steadiness he didn’t deserve, but one he drew upon anyway. He forced his breaths to step into line.
They followed the Landsliders into the state park. His car crawled at this point—they’d gotten plenty of intel already, since this entrance led to the west side of the park, not the front. Yet he couldn’t help but chase the lead further. The sooner they found Mackey’s lair, the sooner they could rally an army to torch the fucker, then maybe, just maybe he’d stop appearing in Drew’s nightmares every night.
“Let’s see if we can get a head start and follow the scent trail,” Drew said, his voice sounding foreign in the quiet of the car. Ally remaining silent was a rarity, but it happened every time a loaded situation descended. She’d rather get declawed than talk feelings. He couldn’t blame her.
“Yeah, the sooner we find their lair, the better,” Ally responded, drawing her hand away as though it flickered with flames. He already missed the touch, something he’d taken for granted in their time together. The past two years had been more painful than he could ever have imagined with no hope of reprieve in grasp. Truth be told, the sole thing keeping him going was the hollow revenge he planned for Mackey.
Beyond that, nothing else mattered. At least, not anymore.
By the time he pulled into the dirt parking lot, the Chevy sat parked alongside two other cars with no one still inside them. Drew breathed a sigh of relief and settled his Cadillac into Park.
He met Ally’s eyes, ignoring how his heart skipped a beat. Golden sunlight threaded through her hair and gleamed on her lickable olive skin. She donned a self-possessed liar’s smile he knew she didn’t feel, and he wanted to slam his mouth to hers to claim his former mate until her moans filled this car.
“Get your head in the game, Train Wreck,” Ally said, her ocean eyes dancing with amusement. “Unless you’re planning on leveling all that lust at the Landsliders we’re tracking, but I’m pretty sure we’re here to fight them, not fuck them.”
He snorted and set to motion, hopping out of his car. She wasn’t wrong—he needed to focus. “All right,” he said, kicking his sneakers underneath his car. “Let’s shift and track these bastards.”
Drew tugged off his T-shirt and brought his jeans down next, moving with the efficiency of years shifting. Ally stripped on the other side of the car, and he couldn’t help the glimpse from searing into his mind. He’d never in a thousand years deserve a stunner like her. Fate was an unforgiveable asshole for mating Ally with someone like him.
He sank into the shift, and his nails transitioned to claws first, the fur prickling along his skin next. His mountain lion begged to come out, the pounding in his chest as constant as a heartbeat. That form, with the predator instincts keeping him focused on the present, offered the only peace he’d found as of late. Before Drew could intake another breath, he slipped onto all fours and padded past his car.
Ally trailed a couple of paces behind him, streaks of gold on her coat glinting under the sun, the same color as her hair. He stepped past the first few looming oaks and placed his muzzle to the bed of moss and crushed leaves that had become mulch. His nose twitched. He caught the strong scents of the Landsliders, particularly Harry’s. Having a specific one to track helped him separate the other ones.
Drew loped through the forest, the birds whistling through the trees and the soft ground sinking underneath his paws. The loam of the moss and earth grew richer as the first electric green sprouts peeked through the muck. The breeze carried a breath of warmth, one he drank in as he raced along, as if he could pretend it was hope.
He scanned his surroundings for snapped twigs, pawprints or any sign of the other shifters who would be running around here. Not like they’d be kind enough to leave a ‘Mackey’s Lair Here’ sign. Even as he tuned in to his surroundings, he couldn’t hear much more than the gentle breezes, the distant thrum of water and the woodland creatures light enough to skitter through the bushes.
At least until the steady thump of pawprints filtered in.
Drew trotted behind a large oak and tried to gauge the source of the sound. Ally slipped beside him with ease, taking the cues even when he didn’t give them.
The thump continued, a regular sound growing louder and louder. He crouched, trying to hide behind the trunk and fringe of surrounding bushes. A silver wolf emerged and Drew’s blood turned Arctic. The last time he’d seen one of those creatures had been back in the caves.
The wolf was a mixture of silver fur and stone, crags of mottled rock protruding from spots and melding with open skin and pus, like wounds that wouldn’t close. The eyes were vacant, gray, as if the creature had risen from six feet under, and the patches of stone traveling all the way down the legs caused its stride to falter and wobble.
One of Ganzorig’s mutants had arrived.
Chapter Five
Ally had heard stories about the shifters-turned-mutant Lana and Drew had encountered in the face-off against Joe Ganzorig, but to be honest, she had trouble wrapping her mind around the idea. Now one of those mottled beasts approached in all its fucked-up glory, and the sight settled over her like frost.
The patches of shale coating the beast’s skin looked painful, like a disease had wrecked the wolf or it had stepped halfway into Medusa’s stare. Those pale, limpid eyes belonged on a corpse, not a living creature, yet it strode toward them on weighty, uneven steps.
Ally crouched, waiting for a signal from Drew to run. Taking on this hulking monster didn’t seem to be in the best-plan agenda.
If one of Mackey’s mutants roamed the forest around here on patrol, they were closing in on his lair.
Drew nudged her in the side. She stepped back a pace, then another, her pads settling with care on the soft mosses. The wolf roamed in the clearing ahead of them, but its gaze hadn’t seized upon their tree yet. They could still escape unnoticed. She trod lightly, careful not to crack any twigs as she backtracked with Drew, trying to stay behind the cover of the big oak and the flush of bushes around them.
The mutated wolf paced back and forth in the clearing, but then it snapped up, muzzle tilted in the air. It seemed to catch a scent.
Ally froze even as Drew took another step back.
The creature sniffed again.
Those milky eyes honed in on the tree they crouched behind. One step. Two steps forward.
Ally met Drew’s gaze. Run, or stay and fight?
Drew didn’t bother responding. The impetuous bastard’s hind legs tensed, and he sailed forward. Drew flew over the bushes, the tips scraping against his fur, and he landed smack in the center of the clearing. Clouds of dust rose in his wake. Ally let out a growl and charged behind him. She kicked up grit and mulched leaves as she closed the distance to the mutant.
The moment Drew landed, the wolf launched into motion. The creature bolted with more speed than she would’ve imagined given the drag of its stone-covered paw. Ally pounded across the ground faster. If the mutant alerted other Landsliders to their presence, not only was their whole operation blasted to shards, but she doubted they’d make it out of World’s End alive.
That is, if they even escaped this clearing.
Drew charged with his thick forehead down like a battering ram. He vaulted across the ground at a blurring speed. The wolf whipped around to face him. It bared its teeth, revealing a jagged maw crusted with more bits of stone. Drew didn’t stop, a juggernaut on a singular mission, and Ally flew in behind him, closing the distance as fast as she could.
Drew rammed in with the blunt of his forehead. At the last moment, the wolf swerved. His head thudded against a patch of stone along the creature’s flank, and Drew stumbled back, unsteady on his paws.
