Betrayed: Days of the Rogue (38 page)

He ran his hand through his hair
recalling all the others he’d betrayed in a similar fashion. Each
time, it became harder to deal with.

“If the target dies, it’s
collateral damage.” Deirdre had explained to him, yet again, after
the last mission. She’d made no effort to hide her impatience.
Softer emotions weren’t part of her make up. “You do your best, but
in the end your job is to remove the assassins. Otherwise they’ll
kill again and again. Losing one Fae could mean that dozens more
are saved.”

She was right, he knew it. But it
had never sat well with him.

“Come now, Damien.” She’d prowled
around his chair, trailing one finger tip over his jaw and ear
before teasing the nape of his neck. Her voice took on a cooing
quality. “You wanted revenge against the Anti-Fae, and we’re
providing you with that opportunity.” Pausing behind him, she
leaned closer, her full figure brushing against him. She began to
massage his shoulders, no doubt feeling the knotted muscles beneath
his leather jacket.

He tightened his jaw thinking of
those early days, when wanting to die had been interspersed with
moments of raging against the world. It was during one of those
fits of anger that he’d been recruited; he’d attacked Petrus who
had been an undercover operative at the time, nearly blowing a case
wide open. The organization had taken him in, honed his skills,
given him a means of avenging Beth.

The pay was crappy, and you signed
on for life, but at the time it hadn’t seemed important that a
price was put on your head the moment you tried to leave. He’d
begun to have second thoughts about that particular clause,
however. He’d stood up and moved away from Deirdre, irritated with
her constant attempts to lure him.

She’d laughed, a deep husky sound,
and shook her head. “Still faithful to the little mate, I see. So
quaint.” Moving from where she’d stood behind him, she’d leaned
against the edge of her desk and crossed her ankles. It was a
favourite pose of hers, causing her short tailored skirt to pull up
and reveal a substantial amount of shapely thighs before the lower
half of her legs were hidden by high black boots. Leaning back,
she’d snagged a piece of paper from the desk behind her and held it
out to him. “This is your next assignment. It’s tailor made to work
with what your friends have you doing.”

He’d flicked his glance over the
paper, seeing the words Grassy Hills highlighted in yellow. That
had made him raise a brow. Not for the first time did he wonder
exactly how the organization was aligned with Lycan Link. They were
connected on some unofficial level, he was sure of it, carrying out
duties that Lycan Link didn’t want to acknowledge. Black ops for a
black rogue had seemed so fitting when he’d first began.

He’d crushed the page in his hand,
guilt eating away at his gut. Each assignment became more difficult
to stomach now that he knew the whole story; how the Anti-Fae was
using the rogues, how more innocent lives were being lost…

“If this assignment is successful,
perhaps I’ll let you take an extended vacation.” Deirdre dangled
the proverbial carrot in front of him. She was an expert at that,
handling her men, as she called them, with the skill of an
orchestra conductor.

“What if I want to be cut loose?”
He’d thrown the question out there, not even sure where it had come
from.

“Cut loose?” The cajoling
expression had left her eyes, leaving them hard and flinty. She’d
stood up straight. “You signed on for life, Damien. There’s only
one way out.”

He’d nodded. “Just checking.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he’d strolled out of the
room.

Movement about a hundred yards
beyond Eve’s car caught his attention, and drew him back to the
present. The leaves of a shrub were quivering. It could be the
breeze, or it could be something else. Damien narrowed his eyes,
occasionally sniffing the air but detecting no scent. Not that that
was conclusive evidence. Subterfuge was the calling card of his
opponents.

With excruciating slowness, he
eased into a crouch, ready to lunge forward and attack. Should he
shift forms already? Eve was nearby, but she seemed intent on her
book. What were the chances that her empathic abilities would pick
up on the presence of his wolf? And, he grimaced, what where the
chances that his wolf would behave? They weren’t exactly on
speaking terms; the disconnect he felt with the creature made it
harder to shift, and even harder to maintain control.

Darting his gaze between Eve’s car
and the shrubs, he waited and watched.

Chapter 38

Rafe slowed his steps and inhaled
deeply. The faintest of breezes stirred the leaves, carrying
Damien’s scent on it. He curled his lip, pleased that he’d found
the man before the Trackers. There wasn’t much time though. While
he’d prefer to try to make Damien see reason, he suspected that was
easier said than done. No, as much as it went against his
principles, sedating the man, and talking later was likely the best
move.

Reaching for the pouch at his
waist, he removed one vial of tranquillizer and double checked the
contents. It was a light dose, but would hopefully make Damien more
cooperative. If need be, he could always administer more from the
stock he had locked away in a cabinet at his place.

Knowing his quarry couldn’t be too
far ahead, Rafe began to stroll with deliberate casualness. He’d
decided that sneaking up on Damien would be no easy task. It would
be better to act if he was out for a walk, and their encounter was
entirely by chance.

A short time later, he rounded a
grouping of trees, and his step faltered. There was Damien,
crouched behind a shrub and, on the road below, was Eve’s car. His
heart gave a lurch, though whether it was from excitement at her
presence or fear for her safety, he wasn’t sure. What was she doing
here? Hadn’t he seen her on her way an hour ago? And why was Damien
watching her?

“Hello? A voice called out, and he
swung his attention towards the source. A man appeared, pushing his
way through the shrubbery not far from Eve’s car. It was a hiker by
the look of the fellow’s gear. Rafe noted the man’s sturdy boots
and faded jeans, the plaid flannel jacket and knapsack slung over
his back. Dull black hair peeked out from the edge of a knit cap,
and a light shadow darkened his jaw. The fellow looked to be around
thirty.

He rubbed his chin and tried to
decide on his next move. Was it better to approach Damien with
humans about? The rogue wouldn’t shift into a wolf if there was an
audience, but there was also the possibility that he could call
attention to their position, which would prevent him from
administering a tranquillizer. With time of the essence, Rafe
gritted his teeth in frustration at the delay in his plans and
waited for an opportunity to act.

Damien was still crouched low,
studying the situation unfolding before them. Was his interest in
the hiker, or was he spying on Eve? The professional in him
identified it as fixating on a female, but his wolf had other
ideas. A sense of possessiveness filled him; Eve was his. Damien
had no right to be showing an interest in her. He bit back the
growl his wolf wanted to make and instead clenched his fists. The
vial of tranquillizer was hard and smooth in his hand. Perhaps he
could sneak up on Damien right now…

“Hi! Are you lost?” Eve’s voice
drew his attention from Damien. She was getting out of her car, a
friendly smile on her face.

“I think so.” The hiker chuckled.
“I can’t seem to find my way back to the highway. All the trees are
starting to look the same.”

“That’s easy to have happen. If you
follow this road…”

A gust of wind muffled her words,
but Rafe wasn’t interested in her reply any more. The wind had
carried Damien and Eve’s scent to him…and no one else’s! He snapped
his gaze to the hiker as he made a sudden connection. No scent. The
man must be the werewolf that had had his home under surveillance.
Without thinking, he snarled and shifted into his wolf form.

At the same time, Damien must have
realized the hiker wasn’t who he was pretending to be either, for
he also gave a growl and transformed.

Chapter 39

Eve was turning to point the way
for the hiker, when movement in the woods caught her attention. As
she turned her head to look, something hard hit her in the back.
Before she could do more than give a shout of surprise, her body
slammed into the ground.

Bits of gravel dug into her hands
and face while pain shot up her arm as one wrist took the brunt of
her weight. For a second she lay there stunned and struggling to
breathe. A heavy weight was pressing her down, and a low deep growl
sounded near her ear. Instantly, she knew it was the wolf who had
been stalking her. How the creature had moved so fast, she had no
idea; it seemed to have come out of nowhere!

Before she could even think of
moving, it grabbed at her arm. Its teeth pierced her flesh, and it
began to savage her arm, shaking its head, her arm nearly ripping
out of its socket from the force of the animal’s movement.

A scream of terror and pain ripped
from her throat, and she tried to roll over, tried to crawl away,
kicking and writhing in an effort to escape. The animal snarled,
bits of saliva landing on her face, its claws tearing through her
clothing, scoring her skin.

Her heart was pounding painfully,
the sound thrumming in her ears, mixing with the grotesque noises
emitting from the beast. A dark fog was coming over her as a sense
of evil invaded her brain. She was going to die, be mauled to
death. That was the creature’s intent; to tear her limb from limb
and leave her body strewn all over the ground. Yet, just as she’d
made that gruesome conclusion, a roaring filled the air, and
something knocked the animal from her. As its teeth tore out of her
flesh she was rolled over by the momentum and found herself facing
even more horror.

Three wolves stood mere feet away
from her, two black and one dark brown. Oh God, there must be a
whole pack of the creatures in the area! They were massive brutes,
muscles rippling under thick coats. For a moment they seemed to
stand in a three-way face off; she could sense the hatred between
them and then, in a rush, they clashed together. Fierce growls
filled the air as the creatures fought, lunging and twisting in a
tangle of fur and claws and teeth.

With her eyes fixed on the fight,
Eve began to scuttle backwards, sobs of pain and terror escaping
her with each panic filled breath. Stones skittered under her heels
and abraded her skin as she pushed herself along on her rear, her
only thought being to get away from the battling beasts. Her
progress seemed excruciatingly slow for the amount of effort she
was exerting. At any moment she expected the animals to roll onto
her, and she’d be caught up in the fray.

Inch by inch she dragged herself
farther from the fight. She had no idea where she was headed, and
when her back came in contact with her car, she gave a startled
cry.

Oh God, oh God… Somehow she pulled
herself to her feet, cradling her bloody arm. The sense of evil and
hatred that had descended over her like a dark, putrid cloud was
still with her, draining her of energy, paralyzing her in place.
All she could do was stare at the carnage taking place before
her.

Blood dripped from the animals,
staining the ground. Their claws tore into the dirt, sending up
small clumps of soil as they pivoted and dodged to the left and the
right, tumbling over only to spring to their feet. They stalked
around each other, heads low and hackles raised. One suddenly
rushed at the other and snarls and growls filled the air as the
battle began again. Eve had no idea who was winning or losing, if
it was two against one or each wolf against the others. It was
horrible and grotesque, yet she found herself gazing at the sight
with a macabre fascination, unable to look away. Only when one of
the combatants gave an especially loud howl of pain did she come to
her senses.

She had to get away, leave before
one of them remembered she was there. She forced herself to move,
to begin sliding her body along the side of her vehicle, stepping
farther and farther away from the fight. They seemed not to notice
her, and this might be her only chance to escape; once they were
done fighting amongst themselves, she’d surely be next!

She spared one thought for the
hiker, but he was nowhere to be seen. He must have escaped, had
perhaps even gone looking for help, but she couldn’t wait for
rescue to come.

One step away, and then another.
Snarls continued to rent the air, interspersed with the snapping of
jaws and more growls. She left the support of the car and moved
closer to a tree. Had the wolves forgotten her? Another step and
then… Pivoting around she began to run down the private road
towards the highway.

Her feet pounded on the hard dirt
surface, her breathing ragged and punctuated with whimpers of pain.
Each step jarred her arm, yet she didn’t dare stop. If she could
make it to the highway perhaps she could flag down a car, find
someone to take her to the local clinic, call the police…

Eve strained to hear sounds of
pursuit and even dared to glance over her shoulder. No wolf was
following her…yet. The highway must be around the next bend, it had
to be; it hadn’t seemed that far when she was driving. Her legs
were beginning to feel rubbery and her oxygen starved lungs begged
her to stop but she couldn’t. Just a little farther, a little
longer. She stumbled once, falling to her knees, but managed to
push herself up and keep going.

Oh please, oh please… She threw out
silent prayers begging for strength, for the wolves not to follow
her, for someone to come along. Maybe she’d find the hiker, and
he’d help her. He couldn’t have gone far.