Exposure (45 page)

My voice broke.

I’d left her there, alone in the dark.

Ben’s hand found my shoulder. “You had no choice. But the pack is here now. We’ll find Ella, and deal with that dirty cop, too. Just lead the way.”

Ben’s words stiffened my resolve. Reaching up, I squeezed his hand before he released it.

Shelton’s eyes darted around the clearing. “Hawfield’s in these woods?”

“Armed. He’s taken a few shots at me already.”

“Then he’s toast.” Ben’s tone was glacial.

The boys looked my way. Cooper sat at attention, his total focus on me.

Hi gave a shaky thumbs-up. “Do your thing, Tor. Stir the drink.”

I nodded. “Let’s join hands. Coop in the middle.”

We formed a circle around the wolfdog.

My eyes closed. I pushed all doubts away.

The flaming cords sprang to life, a fiery lattice connecting the five of us.

Centered on Coop. The nexus. Our touchstone.

The disturbance was gone. The lines seemed frozen in place, awaiting my command.

Working by instinct, I expanded the cords, then untethered my consciousness and sent it racing through the channels.

My perception flicked from person to person.

Hi. Ben. Shelton. Coop.

I’m here.

My eyes opened. I saw the boys staring at one another in wonder.

Without quite understanding how, I flashed to Hiram. Looked out from his eyes.

I saw a redheaded girl covered in grime, face pinched in concentration. She smiled.

It’s working. We can trade.

I felt Shelton’s anxiety as he took a peek through my eyes.
I’ll never get used to this.

Amazeballs.
Hi stepped forward and poked Ben in the chest.

Ben slapped Hi’s hand away. Grinned wolfishly.
Everyone ready?

For what?
Shelton sent.

Hunt.

My gaze dropped to Coop, standing in the center of our circle.

We hunt,
the wolfdog sent.
As Pack.

Coop laced the sending with the concepts of friendship, family, and trust.

Kneeling, I kissed his doggie snout.
I couldn’t have said it better.

• • •

Gun drawn, Detective Hawfield stalked through the woods.

The barking had come from somewhere just up ahead.

Late-afternoon daylight angled through the trees—blinding sunbeams alternating with lengthening shadows—making it harder to see.

But he’d be damned if he was giving this chase up.

That meddling, terrible, unbelievable Brennan girl.

She was some kind of evil spirit.

How in God’s name did she escape that cell?

The Francis kid had still been inside. She’d screamed for Brennan to run, obviously unable to flee herself. He’d thought about dealing with her right then and there, but decided to wait. He might still need a hostage.

Because, right then, all of Hawfield’s plans were in shambles.

The twins were gone. Out of his reach.

Brennan was somewhere loose in these woods.

He was supposed to receive the ransom tonight. If the twins kept their mouths shut just a few more hours, he could still pull this off. He could
win.

But Tory Brennan threatened everything.

That she-devil
had
to be found. And dealt with.

Hawfield checked his HK45. Seven rounds in the cartridge, plus one in the chamber. Another clip was strapped to his ankle.

More than enough for one little girl.

This time, no prison cell.

Something rustled in the brush to his left.

Hawfield froze. Brought the pistol around.

He wasn’t worried. One teen, alone in the woods. He’d catch her eventually. They were miles from anywhere, and Brennan didn’t know where she was to boot.

No one would hear him take care of this problem.

I just have to find her.

A twig snapped.

Hawfield spun, trying to locate the source. Game roamed these woods. He didn’t want to give away his position wasting some deer.

A silver streak shot from the bushes dead ahead.

Something huge bounded to within a dozen feet of where he stood.

Hawfield found himself face-to-face with a wolf.

The beast growled, saliva dripping from his massive jowls.

Hawfield fired reflexively, but the animal had vanished into the sea of gray trunks.

“Jesus!”

A wolf! Here, in the Lowcountry.

Then he went cold, one hand dropping to the lacerations on his leg.

Was that the animal that attacked him on Morris Island? Brennan’s maniac pet?

Hawfield raised his weapon, scanning for more predators. Wolves rarely hunt alone.

Silence. Stillness. As if he’d imagined the creature.

Hawfield chuckled darkly. “Go find the Brennan girl, you mongrel.”

Leaves crunched to his right.

He turned.

Brennan stood in plain view, twenty feet away.

She glared. Made no move to run.

The girl’s eyes had that same yellow tinge. Unnerving, but Hawfield had been in tough spots before. Some creepy teenage waif wouldn’t get under his skin.

“Freeze, and I won’t fire.” Hawfield inched closer, looking for a clear shot.

Brennan stepped behind a trunk.

Hawfield sped forward, determined to finish this once and for all.

Snapping branches. Hawfield glanced to his left.

The wolf was charging his flank, on a direct collision course. As he watched, the beast coiled and sprang.

“Holy—”

Hawfield spun, backpedaling. A root caught his ankle and he crashed to the ground.

Crack! Crack!

Bullets ripped into a tree trunk twenty yards away.

No other sounds. The creature was gone.

Hawfield clambered to his feet. The first tinglings of fear gathered in his massive belly.

What’s going on?

Movement in the corner of his eye.

Hawfield swung his weapon. Squinted through the patchwork shafts of light.

One of those boys!

Ben Blue.

For a second, the detective could only stare in astonishment. By the time he thought to shoot, Blue had darted behind a fallen log.

This was bad. Brennan’s friends were in the woods, too.

I might be outnumbered.

A whistle behind him.

Hawfield pivoted.

The fat kid smiled, waggling his fingers before slipping from sight.

Hawfield’s rage exploded. “Think you can toy with me, you punks?”

A hungry growl was his only warning.

Riiiip!

Searing pain tore through Hawfield as a furry gray rocket slammed into his side. Before he could blink, his attacker bounded into the bushes.

“Ayyyeeee!” Hawfield collapsed in a heap, one hand grabbing his backside.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Slugs tore into the space where the beast had vanished.

Blood ran down Hawfield’s pant leg. He felt a hot wetness pooling in his shoe.

The dog. Those boys. They found this place somehow.

Hawfield spotted the black kid on a log, ten feet ahead. He grinned, then disappeared behind a row of prickly pears.

The fat one followed close on his heels.

Ben Blue darted between the oaks to his left, sliding from his field of vision.

With cold dread, Hawfield realized the kids were closing.

Tightening the noose.

They’re playing with me. And that’s the same wolf from Morris Island.

Then Brennan stepped from the trees right before him.

Arms crossed, she stared down at him with glowing, inhuman yellow eyes.

“What are you?” Hawfield asked hoarsely.

A cold smile curled her lips. “Your worst nightmare.”

Hawfield snarled. Arm jerking up, he fired wildly.

Crack! Crack!

Click.

Too late, Hawfield realized his mistake. His hand had barely moved for the second clip when a drop of hot liquid struck his forehead.

Hawfield looked up.

Stared directly into a pair of canine jaws.

“E
asy, boy.”

I stepped from behind a cluster of oaks.

Cooper’s eyes flicked to me, but he didn’t move away.

Hawfield’s neck was a centimeter from the wolfdog’s gleaming incisors.

Hold.
I sent.
Nothing else.

Coop growled, clearly in disagreement, but he eased back a few inches.

Hold.

The boys raced from the forest. Hi pulled the empty HK45 from the detective’s fingers. Shelton ran to my side, unsure what to do.

Ben walked directly to Hawfield and kicked him in the stomach.

“Ben.”

“Yes?” His eyes never left the detective.

“Just search him, please.”

Ben ran rough hands over Hawfield, freeing the handcuffs from his belt and the extra clip strapped to the detective’s ankle. He tossed the latter to Hiram.

Hi immediately walked both weapon and ammunition over to me. “Yours.”

I ejected the spent clip from the HK45, slammed the new one into place, then worked the slide to chamber a round. Then I held the weapon loosely at my side, barrel pointed at the ground.

“I’m terrified of you right now,” Hi said, wide-eyed. “And in love. Take me shooting with your aunt Tempe next time.”

Intensely aware of Coop’s proximity, Hawfield hadn’t moved a muscle. He seemed almost hypnotized by the wolfdog’s gaping jaws.

“Remember Coop, Detective?” Ben stroked the wolfdog’s head. “You two have met once before. I don’t think he likes you.”

Coop growled low in his throat, causing Hawfield to recoil.

Power down,
I sent to the other Virals.

Ben shot me a hard look.
He’s not secure.

We can’t let him see any more,
I answered.
Cuff him. I have the gun.

“She’s right.” Hi turned away. Shelton quickly followed suit.

SNUP.

The power fled, but I didn’t stumble.

Something had changed. With the flares. Within me.

My powers had . . . righted themselves somehow. The lines were unclogged. I can’t describe it any better.

Ben cuffed Hawfield tightly, then stepped back, his irises fading to dark brown.

I clicked my tongue for Coop to stand down.

The wolfdog snarled at Hawfield one last time, then complied, retreating a few feet and dropping down on his haunches. Coop was still favoring his injured forepaw.

I stepped forward. Placed the gun barrel against Hawfield’s cheek.

“Is Ella okay?” I asked softly.

“Yes.” Terror filled Hawfield’s eyes.

“Quickest way to her cell?”

“The stairs.” Voice anxious to please. “The GPS coordinates are in my pocket.”

Ben rifled Hawfield’s pants, found a slip of paper, and handed it to Shelton. He began punching the numbers into his iPhone.

“Let’s hurry.” Rising, I looked to Ben. “Should two of us stay and watch him?”

“No splitting up,” Ben said firmly. “Not again. We’ll drag this sack of crap with us.”

And we did.

Following Shelton’s lead, we cut through the forest, pushing and prodding the detective along with us. Daylight was fading to dusk, giving the forest a sinister, spectral aspect. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Hawfield didn’t resist. Answered my questions without expression.

At the cave mouth, I told the boys to wait. Ordered Coop to sit.

Alone, I hurried down the stone steps, through the crawl, and into the tunnel. Following Hawfield’s instructions, I located a hidden niche with both a key and extra lantern.

The cell was through the last opening on the left. I raced inside.

Ella was standing by the bars, having seen the light approach. Spying me, she burst into tears. “Oh thank God!” She reached a hand through the barrier. “I thought it was him again.”

I met her fingers, hugging my friend as best I could. “Told you I’d come back.”

Locating the lock, I inserted the key and opened the cell door. Ella stumbled out.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” She was holding back sobs.

I wiped away a few tears of my own. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Hand in hand, we hurried from the chamber, ran the whole way back to the surface. Emerging in the failing light, I felt a sudden elation. A sense of fulfillment.

We’d done it!

We rescued Ella. Bagged the kidnapper. Foiled the twins’ awful scam. Even when things looked darkest, we’d kept our cool, using our brains and special skills to solve a crime the police never would have. A total Virals victory.

“Let’s head back to town.” My voice carried a distinct twinge of satisfaction. “I’m sure Detective Hawfield is anxious for a chat with his coworkers.”

My reference to police seemed to snap Hawfield from his funk.

“Release me,” he demanded calmly. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

Ben shoved Hawfield in the back, propelling the detective down a short incline. “We’re dealing with a criminal. Nothing more.”