Frostbitten (18 page)

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Authors: Kelley Armstrong

BOOK: Frostbitten
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“I’ll give you a lift.”

 

“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

 

Another sidestep, another block, this one moving into my personal space, making the hair on my neck bristle. I shifted back.

 

“I’m fine,” I said, my tone taking on an edge.

 

“No need to get snippy. I’m just being friendly.”

 

“And I’m just saying ‘thanks, but no thanks.’”

 

Clay double-whistled. The BOLO signal—be on the lookout… because these mutts have split up and one could be heading your way.

 

“I’m sorry,” I said.

 

He smiled. “No need to apologize. We all get a little cranky now and then.”

 

“No, I meant for this.” I kicked his kneecap. As he twisted and crumpled, I slammed my foot into the back of his knee and he crashed to the ground, cursing me as I took off.

 

Clay whistled again. A locator beacon this time. He seemed to be behind the cluster of buildings I’d pointed out a moment ago. There were several routes there. I picked the one across open ground where I could keep an eye out for mutts.

 

The wind had whipped up again, buffeting me as I ran, making me slide in the mud, barely able to stay upright. The whine of the wind filled my ears. The stink of rotted fish filled my nose. I kept running, eyes slitted against the gale.

 

At a roar behind me, I spun to see a truck barreling across the open field. My eyes teared up from the wind and I couldn’t see the driver—just that the truck was heading straight for me. I ran full out. It kept gaining. At the last second, I leaped aside and the truck skidded past, brakes squealing veering as it spun into a sharp turn. It came at me again, tires spewing a hail of mud and rock. I dove away and it raced past like a charging bull.

 

When I glanced back, I could see a man in the driver’s seat, but mud now dappled the windows. It roared at me again. As I darted out of the way, the window went down. Inside was the man from the train station.

 

“Did you think that was funny, you crazy bitch?” he shouted.

 

Crazy? I wasn’t the one using my 4x4 as a weapon. I marched toward his side of the truck. He jerked back, this clearly not being the “fleeing in mortal terror” reaction he’d hoped for.

 

He rolled up the window and hit the gas. The tires spun, spitting mud. The truck rocked, but didn’t budge.

 

I took a running leap. The truck shook as I landed in the bed. The man kept pumping the gas pedal, now jerking the wheel side to side, hoping to dislodge me, but the truck only spun in place.

 

I walked to the front corner nearest the passenger door. Then I leaned down, grabbed the door handle and wrenched, twisting it all the way around, the insides grinding and snapping. He lunged over to hold the door closed, but I’d already let go.

 

He slammed the truck into reverse. I stumbled, hands slapping the cab. I kept my balance, though, and when the tires started spinning again, I moved to the driver’s side. He slapped down the lock. Again I leaned down. Again I wrenched the handle around, then retreated into the bed.

 

He tried to open the door.

 

“Hey…” he said, jangling it. Then “Fuck!”

 

I watched through the back window as he reached across and tried the passenger door, yanking and jiggling the handle until he realized I’d jammed them shut.

 

“What the fuck?” He twisted to glower at me.

 

I smiled, finger-waved and was turning to go when something slammed into my back, sending me flying against the cab. As I scrambled up from the truck bed, my nostrils filled with the smell of my attacker—one of the mutts from the hotel.

 

He stood in the middle of the truck bed. With sandy brown hair to his collar and dark eyes, he was a huge rectangle of a man and had the thick neck of one who hasn’t been content to spend a mere hour at the gym each day. The slight yellow cast of his skin and the nasty glitter in his eyes suggested he hadn’t been content with the extra boost of werewolf strength either. A steroid-pumped monster of a mutt. Travis Tesler, who’d cut off Reese’s fingers—I didn’t blame Reese for running. First chance I got, I was doing the same.

 

“Did I spoil your fun?” he asked, lips curving in what I supposed passed for a smile. “I thought Pack wolves didn’t hunt humans.”

 

I kept my expression wary, eyes not quite meeting his, shoulders lowered, feigning every sign of submissiveness.

 

“You got him pretty good.” He snickered as he watched the man still vainly pumping on the door handles. “Bet you think you’re clever.”

 

I cast an anxious glance at the open land beside me.

 

“Your man’s long gone,” Tesler said. “It’s just you and me.”

 

He stepped closer. I feigned a flinch and drew back.

 

He took a deep breath. “Damn, you smell even better in person.”

 

Behind us, the man banged on the rear window. We both ignored him. I inched along the cab toward the edge. Tesler stepped toward me again. I scuttled back.

 

“Not nearly as tough against your own kind, are you?” he said.

 

“I-I don’t want any trouble.”

 

“Well, see, that’s not going to work, because I do.”

 

I shook my head, my gaze fixed on the lower half of his face, so he couldn’t see my eyes. “Please. Whatever you want, I’ll do it. Just don’t—”

 

He lunged and rammed me back against the cab. Pinning me there, he lowered his nose to my neck and inhaled.

 

“Fuck, that is something else.”

 

“Pl-please don’t—” I stammered, then I slammed my fist into his gut.

 

He stumbled back, doubled over. An uppercut to the jaw sent him sailing backward. A roundhouse kick toppled him over the side, and he hit the ground flat on his back, his gasp and curse swallowed by the gusting wind.

 

I jumped onto the edge of the bed, balancing on the back corner, waiting for him to get up so I could kick him back down, then make a run for it. Only he just lay there, looking up at me. Then he smiled.

 

“Now that’s more like it.
Damn
, that’s more like it.”

 

He licked blood from his lips. His smile widened and blood gushed, streaming down his cheek. His smile changed, all amusement vanishing, replaced by something ugly that hit me in the pit of the stomach, prodding awake everything that horrible letter had un-buried. The terrified little girl inside screamed for me to run, just run. Only I couldn’t. I didn’t run anymore, not from men like this.

 

He got up, slow, as if testing his muscles. I tensed and watched his thighs, waiting as they bunched and then—

 

He leapt up and grabbed for my ankles, but I was already in flight. I swung behind him and got in two lightning-fast hits before he turned and came at me, still moving slow as I danced back.

 

“You like this?” He licked the blood again. “Get the old adrenaline pumping. Land a few shots. Make a guy bleed.” He smiled that ugly smile. “I bet you’ve made a lot of guys bleed for you.”

 

He swung. I ducked, but he followed with a pile driver to the side of my jaw, holding none of that steroid-pumped superhuman strength back. The earth rushed up to meet me. I lay on the frozen ground, blinking hard, struggling to remain focused, knowing if I didn’t…

 

Stay conscious. Stay conscious.

 

Tesler loomed over me. “If you hit me, honey, I’m going to hit back. I hit a lot harder, don’t I?”

 

Stay conscious. Stay

 

“Down for the count? I was hoping for a few more rounds.” He grinned. “But I guess this will do.”

 

As he reached for his belt buckle, any urge to drift off evaporated. Then the man in the truck hit the horn.

 

“Ah, fuck.”

 

Tesler glanced over. The man blasted the horn again. I closed my eyes to slits. When Tesler looked back at me again, he frowned and prodded my leg, checking whether I’d passed out. The man banged on the window, his shouts muffled by the wind. The mutt cursed, gaze swinging between me and the truck. Then his belt whirred as he pulled it through the buckle. I tensed, ready to leap up, hit him with everything I had. Fight, bite, scream, kick…

 

The horn blared.

 

“Guess you’ll keep a moment,” he muttered. “Maybe you’ll even wake up.” A short laugh. “I’d like it a lot better if you woke up.”

 

Belt undone, he strode to the driver’s window and rapped. It squeaked as the man lowered it a few inches.

 

“I’m not going to let you do that.” The man waved a cell phone. “I’m calling 911.”

 

If he really intended to, he would have. He didn’t want to get involved, but his conscience said he couldn’t stand by and watch a woman get raped, so he had to at least make the threat and hope that was enough.

 

“Did you see what that bitch did to me?” Tesler pointed to his bloodied face. “And what she did to your truck? That’s going to cost you. And for what? Because you were having a bit of fun with her?”

 

“Yes, but—”

 

“Tell you what…”

 

He leaned in, lowering his voice. I stayed where I was. He might have his back to me, but he was still paying attention, testing me, seeing whether I’d leap up and run when I had the chance. While everything in me screamed for me to do just that, I held myself still and waited.

 

“I could use some help,” Tesler said. “She’s a real firecracker. If she wakes up, I’m in trouble. So how about you help me.” He chuckled. “There’s enough to go around, if you don’t mind seconds.”

 

I waited for the man’s cry of outrage. He only hesitated, then looked over at me.

 

“She’ll be unconscious?” he said.

 

Tesler laughed. “Not if I have my way, but sure, I’ll knock her out again if that’s what you like.”

 

I felt the man’s gaze travel over me. My skin heated, red-hot fury burning through the old terror.

 

You coward. You goddamn, fucking, low-life coward.

 

I wanted to fly at both of them. Show them what they were dealing with. Show them I wasn’t weak, wasn’t a victim. Images flickered across my half-closed lids. That letter. That damned letter. The face of the man who sent it. The faces of other foster families, the men and boys I was supposed to call father and brother. Cowards every one. Preying on the helpless. Only I wasn’t helpless anymore. I was—

 

I shoved the rage back, gritted my teeth and stayed where I was. Just another minute. Another few seconds…

 

“Let’s get you out of there,” Tesler said.

 

I listened as he yanked on the door and waited for the moment when he got it open, when the flurry of activity would distract—

 

“Shit. That bitch really did do a number on your doors. Put down the window and let me get it from the inside.”

 

“I already tried.”

 

“Just put down the fucking window before she comes to and runs away.”

 

The window whirred. I tensed, ready to spring…

 

Tesler grabbed the man’s shirtfront.

 

“Wha—?”

 

Tesler slammed his palm into the man’s face, his nose flattening with a sickening crunch, head snapping back, neck breaking. The man went limp. Tesler checked his pulse.

 

“Did you really think I was going to share with a human?” he said as he threw him to the floor of the cab. “Now that’s taken care of, time for the fun part.” He turned. “What the—? Where—?”

 

A growl of rage sounded behind me as I raced across the open field.

LOCOMOTION

 

Tesler recovered fast and gave chase, his footfalls so heavy I swore I felt the ground shake. I searched the cluster of buildings ahead, hoping for some sign of Clay, but the landscape was empty and silent.

 

I whistled.

 

Silence.

 

I whistled again, and then it came, the faintest answer off to my right. I turned that way and ran so fast all I could hear was the pounding of my feet and heart. I hated myself for running, but I knew I faced more than bruised ribs and injured pride if I lost this fight.

 

I caught another whistle, louder and closer now, from behind the building to my right. Clay was coming for me. I glanced over my shoulder. Tesler was nowhere to be seen.

 

Shit. I sheared off in the direction of Clay’s whistle and gave a double one to warn him to be on the lookout.

 

The building was a small factory of some sort, with machinery whirring inside. There was only one car in the lot. If there were any windows, I couldn’t see them.

 

I slowed to listen for Clay and, yes, to try to sense him, reassure myself that he was close. When I didn’t pick up that faint feeling I shook off the unease—relying on a sixth sense was Jeremy’s realm; the rest of us had to make do with scent and sight and sound. Only I couldn’t smell him either.

 

I jogged to the rear of the building and looked both ways. The lot remained empty and still.

 

I whistled. The answer came in seconds. A whistle. Not
Clay’s
whistle. Then, on the end of it,
his
whistle farther away, in the direction I’d first heard him.

 

I swung my back to the wall and listened, but heard only the muffled machines inside. Then I caught the faint scuff of a shoe… over head. I glanced up as a shadow edged over the roof.

 

Tesler jumped. I tried to twist out of the way, but he caught my shoulder and I spun, feet scrabbling against the gravel. His fingers whispered across my new ski jacket as I lunged out of reach.

 

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