Beneath a Blood Moon (77 page)

“The only one you’re allowed to obey from this point forward is me, Sanders,” I informed him. “Understood?”

My mate’s cheek twitched. “Yes.”

“Good. Give me a kiss, and it better be a hell of a lot better than the one Nicolina just stole.”

I loved my mate’s enthusiasm, which I matched, not caring who watched us.

Alaska in winter was in a constant state of twilight during the day. When the sun set, the darkness engulfed us, and the temperature plummeted. We retreated to the hangar to watch for the plane.

Nicolina lit the runway, muttering curses as she mimicked the glow of airport lights with her magic. Hovering behind her, Richard shifted his weight from foot to foot, whining softly as the minutes dragged by.

“Richard, relax,” Amber scolded. “She’s got plenty of electricity at her disposal. She’ll be fine.”

“Electricity?” I asked, cocking my head to the side to watch Nicolina, who stared at the sky in search of the lights of an incoming plane.

Drumming her nails on the windowsill, Amber stared out over the airfield before explaining, “She can use electricity to fuel her magic. Lights are easy—a lot of lights all at once isn’t, so she’s actually doing some tough work right now. The real lights are currently buried under half a foot of ice, which she shaped—and colored—to look like the tarmac. It’s slicker than oil, and when that plane hits it, it’s going to slide. When they’re done sliding, they’re going to crash into the little plane Richard brought in, and they’re both going to explode.”

“What about the hangar?” I demanded.

“My job, again,” Nicolina replied. “Once the plane blows, I’ll help Amber control the explosion. I’ve already reinforced the building, throwing up an ice wall to help absorb the blast. With luck, we’ll be able to keep the airfield from turning into a big pile of rubble.”

“And us with it,” I muttered.

Amber grinned at me. “You catch on quick.”

“Maybe they got lost,” Richard muttered.

To stop Richard from fidgeting, Amber stood on his feet. “Lost in Alaska during the winter? Fenerec or not, if the crash doesn’t kill them, the cold will. Even if they shift to survive, they’ll be nothing more than oversized wolves by the time spring comes. Serves them right. Maybe they’ll crash so far from civilization no one will see or hear from them ever again. I hope a bear eats them.”

“Must everyone insist on touching my mate?” Nicolina demanded.

“His twitching is driving me insane. I’m not going to steal him. I’m just keeping his feet in one place. The one you have to worry about is Sara; she holds his leash, and you gave her mate some good lip service.”

Wrapping his arms around me, Sanders ducked his head to kiss my throat. “Don’t malign my Sara like that, Amber. She’s a very lovely leash holder. I don’t mind.”

“Not a word, Richard,” Nicolina warned.

Yellowknife’s Alpha sighed. “I am merely concerned regarding how long you will need to maintain the runway lighting.”

“You know he’s worried when he starts using big words. It’s begun. Give him ten minutes. We’ll need a dictionary to understand him.” Amber kept staring out the window searching the night sky for any signs of a plane. She huffed, pointed, and said, “There!”

Picking Amber up by the waist, Richard set her aside and stalked to the window to watch the approaching lights. He cracked his knuckles one by one, his eyes blazing a fire-bright yellow. Relieving his mate of her gun, he checked the weapon and prowled to the hangar’s side door. I followed him, unholstering my Glock. “Sanders, stay with Nicolina and guard her.”

My mate growled at me, and the scent of his dismay and annoyance burned my nose. 

“He’s going to be cranky at you,” Richard warned me, cracking open the door to slip outside.

With Amber and Lisa on my heels, I followed Richard. Maybe my mate would be upset with me later, but I didn’t want him out in the cold again so soon. The dip between two of the hangars, which I suspected was meant to drain rainwater away from the tarmac, offered enough space for us to take shelter.

“Am I the only one who thinks standing so close to where an explosion will be is a pretty stupid idea?” I asked, lying on my belly beside Richard.

Amber snorted. “First, you’re lying down. Second, you have me. You’ll be fine, so stop bellyaching. You’re almost as bad as Richard.”

“Impossible,” I muttered.

“Is it rude to make bets on how many of them survive?” Lisa asked.

“For their sake, I hope the answer is none.” Richard held himself with the tension of a hunting cat, his muscles quivering. He no longer growled, which worried my wolf.

Wise predators made no noise, and I heard the promise of death in Richard’s silence.

Even I knew planes weren’t supposed to wobble so much when coming in for a landing. Instead of touching down with both of its rear wheels, the right one hit the ice first. It tilted so far I thought the wing would crunch against the ice before it recovered. The second wheel touched down, and the plane swayed in the opposite direction.

Its wing dipped into the snow banked along the tarmac. Instead of colliding with the smaller plane, the aircraft cartwheeled off the runway in a shower of scrap metal.

It made two complete revolutions before slamming into one of the sheds lining the runway. The flash of igniting jet fuel heralded a wave of heat washing over us. Richard slapped his hand against the back of my head and shoved my face into the snow before slamming his weight on top of me.

My abused ears rang, and my head throbbed in rhythm with my heartbeat.

“Sorry,” Richard said, and once again, he sounded distorted and distant. Rolling off me, he helped me rise to my hands and knees in time to watch the shed—or what was left of it—burn.

“Oops,” Lisa said, crawling over the lip of the gully. “You know what they say about plans.”

“What do they say about plans?” I asked, nibbling at her bait.

“They never work, so it’s mostly wishful thinking and praying for good luck. Hey, Richard. Think anyone survived that?”

Richard snorted, took hold of my chin, and turned my head to examine me. “How are your ears?”

“They hurt.”

“Mine, too,” he replied. “Let’s go. While I doubt anyone survived that, let’s not be stupid about this. If it isn’t one of us and it’s still moving, shoot it.”

If there had been anyone from my pack in the crash, I couldn’t tell; my awareness was limited to Sanders and Wendy, and all I could sense from them was dismay. “Sanders and Wendy are unhappy,” I said, holstering my Glock so I could scramble out of the ditch without shooting someone.

“One of them is probably buffering you—likely Wendy. If there were wolves from your pack on that plane, Sanders will have been hit hardest by it, and Mom isn’t good enough at blocking to separate mates, not like Desmond can,” Richard replied, following me up the slope. He checked his gun, disengaged the safety, and strolled in the direction of the wreckage.

I hesitated, staring at the hangar where my mate waited, drew a deep breath, and hurried to catch up with Richard. When he halted at the fringe of the destruction, I stood at his side, gawking at the smoldering pieces of metal. In places, even the snow burned, and as it melted, the oil-slicked puddles remained lit, the flames licking at the falling snow.

“I’m not seeing anything alive in that,” Amber whispered, holstering her gun. “Not quite to plan, but I’ll take it.”

The rubble hid the bodies, for which I was grateful.

When we returned to the hangar, Sanders stared blindly in the direction of the crash, his pupils dilated. His breath came hard and fast. Wendy hovered at his side, her expression tense and her face pale.

“How many?” Richard asked in a soft, gentle murmur.

“Fifteen,” Wendy replied.

The putrid grief in her scent deadened my nose.

Richard winced. “Was Arnold among them?”

The pain in my mate’s sigh drew me to him, and I lifted my hands to touch his cheeks.

Slumping against me, Sanders rested his forehead against mine. He shook. “He was.”

“More of them than we thought.”

Nicolina sighed, halting at my mate’s side long enough to pat his back before heading to the door. “I’m going to clear the runway. Father’s probably fit to kill, and knowing him, he’ll be in the air about ten minutes after he finds out where we are. Let’s not crash any planes we don’t mean to.”

“Let’s just hope there isn’t a third group of them,” Amber replied.

“It can’t be that easy,” I muttered, staring at the burning ruins of the plane. “That was too easy. There has to be another plane or something, right?”

“Sara, don’t go asking for trouble. We’ve had nothing but trouble for
months
,” snapped Wendy, who regarded me with narrowed eyes. “It’s about time we had some good luck and a plan work in our favor for once. Be grateful.” She hesitated, turning to her son-in-law. “Richard, is there a third plane?”

“I don’t know of one, but there might be. You okay, Sanders?” Richard stared at my mate, his body tense and his eyes brightening to yellow.

“Sit,” I ordered, and helpless to fight my command, both of the Alphas sank to the floor. Crawling onto Sanders’s lap, I grabbed hold of his hands and wrapped his arms around me. “If they do, we’ll deal with them. Come here, Richard.”

With a quiet whine, Yellowknife’s Alpha obeyed.

“Both of you need to relax.”

I underestimated the power of wolfsbane; Richard curled up beside me, resting his head on my foot. The tension flowed out of my mate, and he leaned all of his weight on me. Within moments, both of them slept, as though their anxiety and wariness had been the only thing keeping them conscious.

Breathing a relieved sigh, I relaxed with them. My mate was close to me, and for the first time since we’d left the hotel in California, my wolf and I felt safe.

Giggling, Lisa pulled out her phone and snapped a photograph. “The poor babies. They’re so tired. This’ll be good blackmail material later.”

“So, who wants to call Charles?” Wendy asked, pressing her hands against the frosted window while watching her daughter outside. “He’ll yell.”

The nervousness in Wendy’s voice worried my wolf, and she drove me into replying, “I’ll do it. You’ll have to dial and put it on speakerphone, though. My hands are a bit full.”

“I got it, Mom. Between Sara and I, I think we can handle him. Amber, you better go watch my sister. She’s going to end up sleeping in the snow if someone doesn’t keep an eye on her. She’s running on fumes as it is. She’s no different from her mate. Neither one of them have the sense to quit when they’re ahead.”

Amber spat curses and jogged for the door.

Lisa hesitated a moment before dialing her father’s number. It rang three times.

“Desmond,” my Alpha answered, sounding more tired than I’d ever heard him.

Grinning like a maniac, Lisa replied, “Lose something, Daddy?”

I heard him inhale. “Lisa?”

“Aw, how did you guess?”

“Your sister only calls me Daddy when she’s about to cry, I’ve done something particularly heinous, she’s frightened, or she’s really drunk. That leaves my other daughter who uses it whenever she feels it will keep me from tanning her hide.” Relief lightened Desmond’s tone. “Where are you? Is your mother with you? How about your sister? How about that witch of hers? Sara?”