touching the cattle prod to Conner. Memories of being caged set against how Conner would react at seeing the wolf’s savagery when he hadn’t yet accepted her existence.
She snarled in fury and frustration, acquiescing to the woman’s decision, clamping down on the medal rather than flesh and muscle and roaring blood. It burned her lips, tasted of brimstone and hot ash. She wanted to spit it out but the woman knew it was far too dangerous to leave where it might be touched by human hands.
She ripped it from Scholes’ neck and swallowed it, turning her head just in time to see the being bound to it vanish.
Conner closed the sliding door, silently praying he wasn’t turning the van into a coffin for the boy. Matt’s blood coated his arm and soaked into his shirt, an unnecessary reminder that survival depended on incapacitating Scholes and the woman.
In the profound silence coming after the rapid burst of gunfire, Conner steeled himself against finding Khemirra down. He clung desperately to the hope she’d made it to the house, the sight of the scissors on the ground close to where Matt had been hit suggesting she had kept going rather than attempt an attack on Scholes.
He moved to the back of the van and cautiously looked around it, the ice of a primal fear pouring into his bloodstream along with denial at the sight of the wolf holding Scholes to the ground with the threat of glistening canines.
As if sensing his attention on her, she lifted her head and looked over her shoulder. A steel band tightened around his chest. There was no mistaking the intelligence in her eyes, no pretending he hadn’t met them the night before.
He wanted to deny again and couldn’t, not when Khemirra had returned moments after the wolf left. Not when Khemirra had been determined to get to the mountains and go for a long moonlit run.
He knew , but the sound of Matt’s low moan allowed him to ignore that knowledge, to shut its existence and everything that came with it behind a barrier of purpose.
He sprinted to the house, using a phone in the kitchen to summon police and paramedics before searching for weapons. He found his off-duty piece in the master bedroom and checked the load before looking for the woman.
She wasn’t in the house, making him fairly certain she’d retreated to the kennel building or fled into the woods. He left, chest going tight once again at seeing the side door to the van open with Khemirra standing next to it, Scholes on the ground at her feet, on his stomach, his wrists bound behind him.
She looked up as he approached, eyes meeting, searching for something in his. And he looked away, not ready to deal head-on with—
Fuck. He didn’t want to trust the evidence he’d been presented with.
Matt’s presence gave him an excuse to avoid a discussion about the wolf. The sound of approaching sirens promised an extension of that delay. And the role of cop was like a second skin, an easy place to retreat into.
“Did you see where the woman went?” he asked while concentrating on checking the field bandaging he’d made of Matt’s t-shirt.
“She’s not here. She never was. My guess is Scholes killed her after she tranquilized you. He probably dumped the body and I’m betting the police will never find it.”
Conner’s head snapped around but Khemirra had her back to him. Fury scorched through him, complex in its texture. Not just that she was denying the presence of the very woman who’d tortured her with a cattle prod, but at the implicit message the denial contained, that the woman would never be found and brought to justice because she was something other than completely human, something supernatural.
He didn’t say anything more though he took Khemirra at her word. Swallowing down anger and frustration, and a whole shitload of other emotions he didn’t want to identify, he mentally rearranged the statements he would give to the police when they arrived. Manpower was too precious to
She snarled in fury and frustration, acquiescing to the woman’s decision, clamping down on the medal rather than flesh and muscle and roaring blood. It burned her lips, tasted of brimstone and hot ash. She wanted to spit it out but the woman knew it was far too dangerous to leave where it might be touched by human hands.
She ripped it from Scholes’ neck and swallowed it, turning her head just in time to see the being bound to it vanish.
Conner closed the sliding door, silently praying he wasn’t turning the van into a coffin for the boy. Matt’s blood coated his arm and soaked into his shirt, an unnecessary reminder that survival depended on incapacitating Scholes and the woman.
In the profound silence coming after the rapid burst of gunfire, Conner steeled himself against finding Khemirra down. He clung desperately to the hope she’d made it to the house, the sight of the scissors on the ground close to where Matt had been hit suggesting she had kept going rather than attempt an attack on Scholes.
He moved to the back of the van and cautiously looked around it, the ice of a primal fear pouring into his bloodstream along with denial at the sight of the wolf holding Scholes to the ground with the threat of glistening canines.
As if sensing his attention on her, she lifted her head and looked over her shoulder. A steel band tightened around his chest. There was no mistaking the intelligence in her eyes, no pretending he hadn’t met them the night before.
He wanted to deny again and couldn’t, not when Khemirra had returned moments after the wolf left. Not when Khemirra had been determined to get to the mountains and go for a long moonlit run.
He knew , but the sound of Matt’s low moan allowed him to ignore that knowledge, to shut its existence and everything that came with it behind a barrier of purpose.
He sprinted to the house, using a phone in the kitchen to summon police and paramedics before searching for weapons. He found his off-duty piece in the master bedroom and checked the load before looking for the woman.
She wasn’t in the house, making him fairly certain she’d retreated to the kennel building or fled into the woods. He left, chest going tight once again at seeing the side door to the van open with Khemirra standing next to it, Scholes on the ground at her feet, on his stomach, his wrists bound behind him.
She looked up as he approached, eyes meeting, searching for something in his. And he looked away, not ready to deal head-on with—
Fuck. He didn’t want to trust the evidence he’d been presented with.
Matt’s presence gave him an excuse to avoid a discussion about the wolf. The sound of approaching sirens promised an extension of that delay. And the role of cop was like a second skin, an easy place to retreat into.
“Did you see where the woman went?” he asked while concentrating on checking the field bandaging he’d made of Matt’s t-shirt.
“She’s not here. She never was. My guess is Scholes killed her after she tranquilized you. He probably dumped the body and I’m betting the police will never find it.”
Conner’s head snapped around but Khemirra had her back to him. Fury scorched through him, complex in its texture. Not just that she was denying the presence of the very woman who’d tortured her with a cattle prod, but at the implicit message the denial contained, that the woman would never be found and brought to justice because she was something other than completely human, something supernatural.
He didn’t say anything more though he took Khemirra at her word. Swallowing down anger and frustration, and a whole shitload of other emotions he didn’t want to identify, he mentally rearranged the statements he would give to the police when they arrived. Manpower was too precious to
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