Caleb (3 page)

She
mentally tested the energy she could feel, grabbed it as best she could with
her thoughts, and asked,
Where are you?

He
didn’t answer, but the sense of urgency increased as the stitch in her side
eased. It was only twenty more steps to the base of her driveway. She took them
in a lurching jog, the keys jangling in her hands and her leg muscles shaking
as they struggled to meet her request. She stopped at her bright purple
mailbox, starkly illuminated in the strange light. The long shadows reached out
to her from her tree-lined drive. The arced branches of the poplar trees
hovered over the entrance, looking like huge, clawed hands just waiting for the
unwary to step within reach.

Her
heart raced from exertion and pure fear as she forced herself into that pit of
darkness, the crunch of gravel scraping down the raw edge of her terror as she
took one step and then another. If there were any more of those wolves in the
shadows, she hoped they didn’t give any warning. She remembered the horrible
gushing wound on her savior’s neck and shuddered. She’d rather not know in
advance if one of them was planning on ripping her throat out. Her steps slowed
as she reached the darkest part of the driveway. A feeling of damned-if-she-did
and damned-if-she-didn’t froze her in place.

What
if there was a whole ton of those monster wolves between her and the house?

There
aren’t. But they’re coming.

Oh,
shit! She glanced behind her. Nothing moved, but goose bumps sprang over her
skin, and the nape of her neck tingled with cold anticipation. “They’re”
implied more than one, and the one she’d tangled with had been bad enough. With
no other option, trusting the voice because she had to trust something, she
plunged into the gloom, a silent scream in her mind the only outlet she allowed
the terror eating her alive.

Nothing
pounced as she raced through the dense darkness toward the moonlight ahead.
Nothing snapped at her heels or hit her back and brought her down, but the
feeling that any second she was going to be wolf chow pounded harder and harder
on her conviction that it was only a matter of time. She broke into the
clearing of her yard, found an extra burst of speed, and headed for her front
door, its bright red paint washed out to the color of dried blood in the harsh
moonlight.

Her
hands shook so badly she couldn’t fit the key into the lock. The nerves all
along her back prickled as if in response to invisible eyes. She shoved the key
at the lock, swearing when it slid off. Oh God, she had to get inside.

A
strange calm settled over her, soothing her, taking the terrible panic away. On
the next pass, she got the key in. The dead bolt clanked open. She unlocked the
handle, opened the door, and all but fell into the small foyer before slamming
the door shut.

She
immediately threw the dead bolt and leaned back against the cool metal, sliding
to the floor. She wrapped her arms across her torso as she drew breath after
needed breath into her starved lungs. The warm, familiar sugar cookie scent of
her home enveloped her in a comforting hug. She was safe.

She
dropped her sweaty forehead to her knees and let the knowledge seep in. She was
in her home, and she was safe. But they were coming for her. If she was going
to believe that telepathy was possible, she had to believe more of those
monster wolves were coming for her. Which meant she wasn’t safe. Panes of glass
and dead-bolted doors wouldn’t protect her for long. She had to get out of
here. She sat up straight.

Stay.

The
voice was more a stutter of sensation than a formed thought.

“Caleb?”
she whispered.

There
was no response, but a stroke of calm stilled her alarm.

It
was
Caleb Johnson who was giving her orders, and he was hurt. She didn’t know how
any more than she knew why he could talk to her like this, but he was hurt. She
closed her eyes and concentrated on that strange feeling of calm, trying to
follow it to the source. At first, she got nothing. Just the feeling of being
ridiculous for even trying, but then there was a break in the wall, a sensation
of expansion in her mind. Horrendous pain and weakness overwhelmed her before
the door she’d opened slammed shut, and she was left alone to contend with the
vivid memory.

Her
hands went to her throat, surprised to find it intact.

There
was only one thing she’d seen with its throat torn recently—the black wolf that
had saved her life. It was connected to Caleb somehow. And now it was out there
alone. Terribly wounded because of her. And more of the monster wolves were
coming.

She
did what any sensible woman would do in that situation. She went for her gun.

CALEB
might be weakened. He might even be on the verge of
dying, but he was still turning out to be a hell of a nag.

Go
back.

Allie
ignored this order the same way she’d ignored the last three, turning her
compact hatchback out of the drive and down the dark road. The night wasn’t
nearly so scary when she was in the car with the weight of the gun in her lap.
She didn’t know where those monster wolves had come from, but she was pretty
sure a bullet in the eye would take them down.

She
slowed when she saw the dark mound in the road. Her heartbeat, which had never
returned to normal, sped back up to impossible when the blob separated into two
distinct bodies in the beams of her headlights. She pulled the car to the side
of the road just past the bodies, turned off the ignition, and sat there,
taking deep breaths, beating back the suddenly overwhelming fear through sheer
force of will.

Stay
in the car.

“Shut
up,” she muttered as she reached for the door handle. The fear that swamped her
was unreasonable and beyond imagining. It was all she could do not to flee in
terror.

Go
home.

Those
feelings were not coming from her, she realized as sweat soaked her palms and
dripped into her eyes. She grabbed the flashlight and revolver, yanked the
handle on the door, and kicked it open when the latch gave. “Get out of my
head!”

She
practically threw herself out of the car. As soon as the door slammed shut, the
panic receded and she was left with just her own cowardice. That, she could
handle.

She
cautiously moved toward the bodies, keeping the revolver trained on the wolves.
The gray wolf lay still, its head twisted at an awkward angle, tongue lolling,
and eyes staring unseeingly, the malevolence surrounding it undiminished by
death. About three feet away lay the black wolf. Hardly daring to breathe, she
shone her flashlight on the animal. A huge pool of blood surrounded the body,
seeping from the thick ruff, which glistened with the slow ebb of life.

“This
can’t be good,” she muttered as the pool of blood crept outward. She gave the
gray wolf a wide berth as she approached the black. Dead or alive, the beast
gave her the creeps.

The
black wolf merely gave her a sense of urgency, which didn’t make any sense
considering it had won the fight and was therefore the greater threat. But
there she was, once again with her gut instincts overriding common sense. She
stopped a foot away from the black wolf’s side. She panned her light over the body.
Its ribs heaved and jerked with every breath, but at least it was breathing.

“Easy,
Big Boy,” she murmured, shoving the revolver into the waistband of her jeans
before she knelt just outside the ring of blood.

Big
Boy’s response was a lift of his lip. She didn’t get any closer, but she also
didn’t move away. “Nice set of teeth.”

She
touched a slash by its hip. The wolf flinched, and the order came loud and
clear.
LEAVE!

“Just
as soon as I take care of Big Boy, I’ll do that very thing,” she retorted. It
was weird carrying on a conversation with a voice in her mind, but on a scale
of one to ten of all the weird things she’d done in her life, it actually only
rated a four.

She
sat back on her heels. In the fury of battle, she hadn’t really appreciated how
big the wolf was. It was a good foot and a half taller than she, which wasn’t
saying much as she barely cleared five feet, but the sheer mass of the animal
was awesome. It had to be over two hundred pounds, which was going to make
getting it to the vet a major issue. There was room in her hatchback for him,
but getting the wolf to the car could be a problem. For sure, she wasn’t just
picking him up.

They’re
coming.

“Don’t
pressure me,” she muttered. “I don’t work well under pressure.” The fresh rush
of adrenaline made her hands shake and her breath rasp in her throat. She
really wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing.

She
stroked the wolf’s side gingerly before getting to her feet. “I’ll be right
back.”

Leave
the wolf.

Everything
inside of her rebelled at the thought. “Not an option.”

Do
as I say.

Like
that was going to happen. She snorted as she grabbed a tarp out of the back of
the car and slammed the hatch closed. She wasn’t taking a chance with any
surprises waiting for her when she got back. “I might be nuts, and I might even
talk to the voices in my head, but even I know better than to take orders from
them.”

Caleb
didn’t respond verbally to her sarcasm, but what felt like a long-suffering
sigh wafted through her mind.

You
are one stubborn woman.

“It’s
one of my more endearing qualities,” she said as she laid the tarp flat
alongside the wolf’s back, tucking a large fold underneath.

What’s
your plan?

“I’m
going to roll the wolf onto this tarp and drag him to the car, and providing I
manage that without having my own throat torn out, take him to a vet.”

He
won’t harm you.

“Like
you can guarantee that.”

She
looked at the wolf, especially at the teeth still exposed in its snarl, and
shook her head. After this, she really was going to have to go see that psychiatrist
her family kept recommending.

You’re
not crazy.

“So
says the voice in my head.”

Whether
she was crazy or just on the verge of toppling over the edge was neither here
nor there right now. She took a breath and reached over the wolf.

“I
hope you’re right about his friendly level,” she muttered as she grabbed its
front legs and pulled up and over. The wolf made a horribly wet gasping sound
as she rolled its front half over. Midway, the weight of his body fought her,
almost dragging her face-first into the road on the other side. She quickly
straddled its torso, holding its legs upright with her inner thigh while she
grabbed its back legs and dragged them along. There was a moment when she
thought she wouldn’t be able to do it, but then the wolf twitched just enough,
and she rolled him onto the tarp.

Breathing
hard with the effort, she tugged the fold out from under the wolf, shuddering
when blood smeared her hands, pausing only to wipe them off on her jeans before
continuing. Her gut was talking to her again, and it said she had to hurry.

Grabbing
the end of the tarp, she tugged. The tarp slipped out of her hands.

“Son
of a bitch.” She wiped her hands again, and gathered the excess folds into a
better grip. Leaning back against the resistance, she dug in her heels. The
wolf moved a foot before she had to take a break, her muscles screaming in
protest.

A
bone-chilling howl pierced the night. It was immediately followed by another.
And another. All from the same direction. All sounding too damn close for comfort.

Hurry.

Like
she needed him to tell her that. “If you think you can do better, do it
yourself.”

A
feeling of extreme displeasure rolled over her. Great, just what she needed. An
inner voice with an attitude. She braced her feet and pulled again. “What’s got
you upset?”

Your
insistence on risking your life.

“That
was an amazingly calm not to mention sweet thing to say,” she said as she
panted through her next break. A quick glance revealed two feet to go.

I’m
not sweet.

She
gritted her teeth and gathered her energy. The howling came again. Closer. She
glanced over her shoulder. It was tailgate or bust.

“Sweet
is all in the eyes of the beholder, darling, and that sounded pretty darn sweet
to me.”

After
that, she didn’t have air for extras like speech. She needed everything she had
to move the wolf. She pulled until her arms and legs ached. Inch by inch, she
got the wolf over the ground, desperation giving her a bit more strength as the
howls rose to an obscene cacophony, ringing inside and outside her head. She
was profoundly grateful Caleb didn’t add another “hurry” to her own internal
litany.

She
didn’t know if they were going to make it. Didn’t know if she could get them
the last foot, but she closed her eyes and gave it everything she had. When she
opened her eyes, the wolf was just clear of the rear bumper. She’d done it.
Leaning against the side of the car, she popped the hatch.