Hadley Werewolves, page 12
“I’ll be fine.” She presented her palm. “They look bad but I’m slowly healing, actually.”
“Even if we do heal faster than humans, that doesn’t stop the pain.”
She needed the discomfort. Welcomed it for what the witches had done. “Trenton, can we talk?”
“Soon. I need to get everyone evacuated to safety.”
“Folks, can I have your attention?” One of the officers in the room yelled for the crowd to calm down. But many continued to shout.
“How the hell did another get in?” one man asked.
“Who has come in recently?” another belted out.
Charly waited for eyes to fall on her, but none did. There were looking for a human. A vulnerable human, not a witch in wolf’s clothing.
“This was never supposed to happen again,” Julia said bitterly.
“It has happened,” Trenton said. “And now we need to be smart and deal with it.”
“Where is Kyle?” Julia asked. “Has someone sent for our alpha?”
“I left him a message. He’s in Montana.” Emma’s voice was quiet. “He’ll take the quickest flight or drive if he has to, but it will be at least a day before he’ll make it.”
“So much can happen in a day,” someone yelled. “Last time, twenty-four hours after the first sighting, our town—”
“Now’s not the time to think about the past,” Emma snapped. “We got a problem on our hands here.”
Julia took a step forward. “The last invasion was centered around my brother. Who got infected this time?”
The many faces in the crowd looked around as if expecting someone to come forth.
“It could be anyone of authority,” Trenton said. “We need to worry about the infected out there and the innocents in their homes. We need a team of armed men and women willing to go door-to-door to warn folks that don’t answer their phones or respond to the sirens.”
The raised hands were few. With Kyle gone, the town only had three police officers, and five civilians raised their hands.
Charly was one of them.
“I respect your decision,” Trenton said. “Anybody who wants to leave town until the problem is taken care of is welcome to go. We never had a warning like this last time. I’ll make sure to leave a message on the police station information line when it’s safe for folks to come home.”
Many in the room took it as a sign to depart. Mothers shuffled their kids to the door. As the room emptied only the officers and the five volunteers remained.
“Where’s Officer Hurst?” one of the volunteers asked. “He was just here.”
“He probably went to get his aunt and sister out of town,” Trenton said.
Charly didn’t blame the guy. If he had someone he cared about, she wouldn’t want his family here either. Now they only had two policemen to help.
“You should go with Meg and get out of here, Charly,” Emma said firmly.
“I can’t. My place is here.” Her throat dried further with each word. “It’s my fault.”
The few in the room closed in on her.
“Charly, it’s a witch who did this,” Emma said. “They infected one of our own and now that infected wolf is bringing others under his control. Get yourself together. If you’re not strong enough to stand with us, you need to leave.”
“What are you saying?” Trenton’s eyebrows lowered.
“I’m not who you think I am.” She tried to swallow and failed. Warm tears fell down her cheeks.
“Charly.” Trenton gently took her hand.
“What does she mean?” Drew asked with a suspicious tone.
A scream rang through the air outside of the town hall. Everyone’s heads snapped in the direction of the wide-open doors.
“It’s all my fault,” she breathed. “I’m not a werewolf.”
“She’s not in any shape to be a volunteer,” Emma said to Trenton. “Anybody in this room can smell what she is. She’s probably been through too much.”
Officer Crane and another officer ran to the doors. After Emma gave Trenton a dark look that told him he shouldn’t her leave, Emma ran to join them. More screams poured into the room. Car brakes screeched just before the thud of a crash.
The sounds reverberated in the empty room where only the two of them remained.
Trenton pulled her up from her seat. His right hand’s grip on her wrist was firm. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you to safety and help everyone.”
Her lower lip trembled and her bones collapsed into smoke. “If you knew what I am, you wouldn’t help me, Trenton. You don’t get it! I’m not who you think I am. I’m a witch.”
Trenton let go of her hand as if he’d been burned. His mind told him to back away. To run away from what she represented: death, lies, and betrayal. But she couldn’t be a witch. He drew her close instead, drawing his nose to the top of her head where he inhaled. A hundred scents wafted toward him: an evergreen forest at midnight, the hunt, her femaleness, sadness. A need to comfort her filled him. She is a wolf. Not a single trace of witch remained—none that he could detect.
“Charly, why?”
She shook her head. “I’m so sorry I enchanted you. I should explain everything, but nothing I say will matter.”
She cast a spell on him?
He paused. Was this need to protect her just a part of the spell she cast on him? Last night he’d say he was out of it for a period of time, but right now his mind was clear. No more gaps in time. Either way, it was too late. Any other man should leave her behind, yet he’d opened himself to her and now there was no way he’d leave her all alone. “We need to go.”
The look of disbelief on her face was clear. The parted lips and shuffling steps backward showed she hadn’t expected him to take her with him.
When he spotted Emma, holding a gun and standing in the doorway, they stopped cold. So she heard everything. The chilly glare from the alpha female was cold enough to push his shoulders down a peg or two.
“There are unaccounted folks we need to find. Drew is with the first team. You two are coming with me. I’m keeping an eye on you. Both of you.” She twisted to leave, and Trenton followed. Based on the way she marched out of the room, he suspected a conversation would take place soon enough on the matter of Charly being a witch. Just not right now.
Right outside the door, Trenton didn’t expect to see a war zone. The car crash he’d heard earlier was a family van pummeling a smaller sedan. The occupants were long gone, but the blood on the van’s busted out windshield told a different story. Something about the ripped up front seats warned him the problem had escalated beyond Aidan and his wife, Penny. Since Aidan was dead, his wife would have needed help to do this. A lot more help. So what the fuck had happened overnight?
Charly trailed after him. He peered over his shoulder to glance at her. How was she involved in all this? She’d said she was a witch and had enchanted him. So was he behind the attack? That couldn’t be true. He didn’t feel any different. He clenched his fists. Had he done something after he made love to her? Had he infected all these people while he’d slept? How could they be infected if he wasn’t? He needed answers. Quickly.
Emma took the lead as they weaved around street corners toward the first house. The list was short. Most folks got the hell out of Dodge. The Wendells, an elderly mother and her son, lived in a small house off Main Street. Emma slowed once they reached the driveway. The door had been bashed in.
“Shit. We’re too late,” Emma muttered, breathing hard. As she walked up the steps, she tilted her head and inhaled.
Trenton could smell it, too. The stench of death exuding from the house’s wrecked door. “Might as well check for survivors.” Or more infected werewolves lurking about.
He walked in first this time with Charly following and withdrew his gun from his holster, carefully stepping over the threshold. He’d been in the Wendell house a few times in the past. Mrs. Wendell kept a tidy house at her spry age of eighty-two. She kept to herself, but once in a while, her son would call the emergency number if his mother’s blood sugar dipped too low and he couldn’t wake her.
Trenton took in the scene. The household was a human one, but it looked more like savages had lived there. Death’s stench clung to everything, making it hard for him to determine if any infected werewolves still hid away. The destruction began in the sitting room and extended toward the bedrooms in the back. The photos of grandkids on the walls had been ripped off with clawed hands that gouged the wallpaper while the incessant beeping of an abandoned alarm clock was the only sound in the home.
As Trenton crept toward the bedroom, his first inclination was to call out someone’s name, but he didn’t know if one of them was here. He reached the closed bedroom door and found it locked. His hand pressed against the cool wood, a solid door made from oak. Scratch marks lacerated the doorframe and polished brass knob.
A soft voice snapped, “You go ahead and try to come through that door, and I’ll show your ass what kind of bullets mama got in her gun.”
Trenton couldn’t resist a chuckle. Emma snorted from behind Charly.
Trenton knocked for good measure in a tap-ta-tap beat. “It’s Officer Spencer, Mrs. Wendell. We’re here to escort you to safety.”
“Safe out there, my ass. How do I know you ain’t one of them?” she asked. He faintly heard the click of her gun’s safety.
“‘Cause I’d be ripping the door off the hinges if I was, ma’am. It’s as safe as it can be for now. We’re taking any stragglers to the school bus to get them out of town.”
“All right … I guess.” The door slowly opened. Trenton pushed it the rest of the way. Damn, that sucker was heavy. She’d been smart to hide in this room. The only window, a circular one, was barely large enough to fit a smaller child through.
“How did you get this shut?” Trenton joked.
“When you have those crazy bastards coming for you, you’d be surprised how strong you get.” The top of Mrs. Wendell scarcely reached Trenton’s shoulder, but she had enough spunk for them all. She grabbed her purse and shotgun. “Let’s go, kiddies.”
“Where’s your son?”
The elderly woman shook her head. “He ... bought me time to get to the room. I can only hope he ran away in time.”
“I’m sorry,” Charly mumbled.
“It’s not your fault, girl. You didn’t bring those bastards back to us.”
Emma flashed a dark look to Trenton, but he remained silent. This wasn’t the time.
“I’m going to take Mrs. Wendell to the bus,” Emma said. “You check the Fields’ house. We’ll meet up at the bus stop.”
Trenton nodded. He hoped the evacuations would go well. As they ran toward the Fields’ house on the other side of town, he spotted a few people from the list running toward the schoolyard. By the time they got to the Fields’ ranch house, the sun had begun to set. Eight hours ago he’d bought a coffee from the shop and now they feared for their lives. The black memories from the last attack touched his senses and he tried to push them away. He had a job to do: serve and protect.
Unlike the Wendell home, the Fields’ house appeared locked down. All the windows and doors were shut tight. Trenton checked the front door and found it secure. He knocked a few times, but no one answered. Some instinct told him not to go. Even if it was deathly quiet, someone had to be close.
“Maybe they left already?” Charly asked.
“I don’t know. Something is off.”
“I have a way to check.” Charly turned away from him and then used her nails to rake into her wrist. Droplets of blood formed along the tracks.
“What are you doing?” he snapped.
“The magic here is scant,” she whispered. She scratched her other wrist.
“Stop it!” He grabbed her elbow. “I don’t like this.”
“I’m doing what must be done. I can help you find them.”
His grip tightened. She wrenched her hand away and took the knife from his belt instead. Before he could stop her, she hurt herself again. A sharp cut to her palm brought fresh blood. Then he caught the scent he hadn’t noticed before—an additional peppermint-like layer hidden under the coppery smell.
Charly raised her palm to reveal a growing smear. “This is me. What you see and smell is the real me.”
She spoke with downturned eyes and took another step back before drawing something he couldn’t see into her hand. Then she exhaled into the blood pooling in her palm. The darkening liquid pulsed and suddenly dripped up her fingers. Toward the east.
Using her other hand, she pointed in that direction. “Whoever lives here went that way.”
So this was the witch’s magic. Trenton couldn’t believe his eyes. She’d cut herself and her blood stirred around as if it were alive. Instead of debating the issue, he sprinted toward the next house where the Grangers lived, but he was afraid they’d dawdled too long. The front door was locked, but one of the two garage doors had been pried open. Only a few inches of space allowed someone to crawl underneath. The scent of werewolves lingered in the air, a few pups and an adult. No humans or tainted werewolves had been here.
“Is anyone here?” He peered into the darkness.
The reply was faint. A whisper from the far end of the room. “Back here.”
He looked around first to make sure no one was coming for them before he slid underneath the opening. In the back, he spied what appeared to be a woman and two children hiding behind an old car. The heat in the garage was stifling, but the family appeared to be too frightened to care.
“We need to go. Now.” Trenton ushered them out of the corner. He picked up the smallest child and gathered her in his arms.
Something’s coming up the road, Trenton. Charly words pressed urgently through his head. He sensed her rising fear. Move your ass.
“How many?” He put down the child so he could try open the other garage door. It wouldn’t budge. Even if they crawled under the door, they couldn’t outrun their enemies carrying kids.
“Five or six?” she yelled. “Does it matter? They look pretty pissed, too.”
He groaned then rested his gaze on the car the Fields hid behind. His day had nose-dived into a massive shit-pile. “Time to get a new ride. Everybody in the car. Charly, get out of the way.”
The family that lived there, the Grangers, had a ’56 Chevy wagon. It wasn’t in the best shape, but luck was on their side. Mrs. Fields fished the keys from their hiding spot. The Chevy was a piece of shit, but the junk heap would get them the hell out of there with a group of infected wolves coming their way; that was all that mattered. Trenton scrambled inside and Mrs. Fields and her kids jumped in the car ahead of him.
“Don’t fail me, damn it.” The car started on the third try, the engine rumbling to life while shaking the whole frame.
Trenton flipped the gear into reverse and slammed his foot on the accelerator. The heavy steel body held as they crashed through the garage door.
He expected to find Charly waiting by the road, but he found something else. Violent winds whipped the acacias along the street. Cloud cover darkened the sky as thunder grumbled overhead. Not far down the street, Charly stood in the center of the lane with her bloodied palm in the air. Another deep cut on her wrist streamed blood onto the concrete. Gusts of wind pushed back the advancing werewolves, and they rolled down the road when the gusts picked up to tornado-like speeds.
His mouth dropped open, taking in her power. What else could the witches do?
She’d bought them precious time. He pulled up next to her and shouted her name over the wind. At first, she didn’t answer.
“Charly, get in the car!”
Finally, she turned to him, her face pale and eyes blank. Lowering her hand, she opened the door and fell into the backseat. Mrs. Fields got out of the car to help her sit.
He turned the car around and careened down the street. After a few quick turns, they peeled through the neighborhoods. He tried to focus on their destination instead of the rising smoke from many houses along the way. The sounds of gunshots in the far distance. The town of Hadley had descended into madness in a few short hours. They turned around a corner and entered the schoolyard. Soon enough he’d get Charly and the Fields family to safety.
But as he steered the car closer to the school, his gut went cold.
Bright flames swallowed the bus.
8
She’d used far too much blood. Too much.
Charly slumped against the backseat as the beat up Chevy veered out of the schoolyard. Where the hell was Trenton taking them now?
“Where are we going?” Her voice was hoarse. A mere whisper over the roar of the car’s dying engine.
Trenton didn’t answer so she tried to speak to his mind. A nifty gift from their bonding. Where are we going?
His head tilted to the side a bit. “This car’s about to die, and we need somewhere safe to hide. The only place I can think of is Ben’s house. After the last attack, he reinforced parts of his home into a military compound.”
“I heard about that,” Mrs. Fields said from the front seat.
One of the children snuggled closer to Charly, and she couldn’t help but bite her lower lip. If she hadn’t come, this wouldn’t have happened. Things weren’t supposed to turn out this way, yet they had.
She should’ve told Trenton to leave her behind with those crazed werewolves. She was no better than them.
The little girl rested her hand on Charly’s arm. With a concerned expression, the child looked up at her.
“Did it hurt when you kept those bad people away? You look so tired.”
“Don’t worry about it, kiddo.”
Charly expected she’d need to bleed to death at this point to do anything of significance, but her wounds closed moments after she cut them open to cast the spells. Her werewolf side wasn’t ready to die.
Maybe that meant she had a chance to fix what she had broken. It was up to her to find out who was behind all this. Nothing about this had seemed right. Only another witch could do all this, which meant she was the only one who was capable of undoing the damage. She straightened up in her seat.
