Clay's Hope (27 page)

“Hi,” she whispered, tilting her head to
look at me. The pain in her gaze worried me.

She handed over her keys then started to
slide out of the booth. I helped her to her feet and wrapped an arm
around her shoulders, holding her close. Fine tremors wracked her
body as she shuffled alongside of me. I wanted to be frustrated
with her—why did she need to keep hurting herself like this—but
concern outweighed frustration as I maneuvered us out the door and
to her car.

Once I had her in the car and buckled up,
she shut her eyes. Her breathing hitched several times as I drove
home, and she didn’t move when I picked her up and carried her
inside. I knew she was awake, though; so after I tucked her into
bed, I got her a glass of water. She drained it, then lay back with
a tooth-chattering sigh.

I stripped to my shorts and slid in with
her. This wasn’t the kind of snuggling I’d had in mind. I hated
this. Hated the worrying. She didn’t understand her abilities and
neither did I. What if she had a finite number of zaps in her? What
would happen if she used them up? Would she burn herself out? Would
she not wake up?

I held her, and I worried. At some point
during the night, I pulled her close so that her head rested on my
chest. Then, I just listened to her breathe.

Close to dawn, she moved. She lifted her
head, and I felt her look at me. Keeping my eyes closed and my
breathing steady, I silently waited. She was thinking about
something.

She carefully pulled away from me, and I
felt the mattress move as she got out of bed. I opened my eyes to
watch her leave the room. That she was up and walking meant she was
through the worst of it. I heaved a relieved sigh and got up to
turn on the light for her so she wouldn’t trip getting back into
bed. Sitting against the headboard, I listened to her wash her
hands and then leave the bathroom.

When she reached the bedroom door, she
paused and eyed me. I studied her in return. She did appear to have
more color. Although I was relieved, I was also annoyed. What
possessed her to keep transferring her power? I hoped she’d
explain. I needed to understand; but more, I needed to hear her say
she’d never do it again.

Biting her lower lip, she closed the door
and slowly turned back toward me. She wouldn’t meet my gaze as she
walked back to bed and burrowed under the covers once more.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. Then, she
finally looked up at me. “I didn’t plan it...but I think I’ve
figured out what I am, Clay. I’m like a GPS for werewolves. I can
find people. Not just people, but compatible Mates like me.”

I wanted to sigh. I didn’t care that she
could find others like her, not when I’d just spent over sixteen
hours waiting for her to wake up.

She tucked her cold feet under my legs and
kept talking.

“When I touched Rachel yesterday, I really
paid attention.”

When had she seen Rachel? I almost swore.
I’d known it would be her.

“I saw the energy I release when I shock a
person. It goes into them and pulses outward, passing through
almost everyone else. And everyone this energy passes through fades
in my mind, almost dimming to the point of non-existence. Five
people didn’t fade, Clay. In the whole world, there are only five.
Six if you include me. And when the energy I release touches them,
it bounces off to come crashing back on me. That’s what’s been
knocking me on my butt.”

She played with the quilt for a second, and
I nudged her to keep her going. I still hadn’t heard, “I’ll never
worry you like that again, Clay.”

She smiled at me then resumed talking.

“It was different when I touched Luke. With
him, I zoomed in on one specific spark, a yellow-violet one on the
east coast. The paper I gave Luke? That was directions to find her.
I think she belongs with him. I think I found his Mate just by
touching him.” She grinned and said, “I don’t think he appreciated
my help, though.”

I remembered the phone call and agreed.
However, I was glad he was off chasing some other female.

A faint laugh outside the house caught my
attention. I turned my head toward the window, staring out into the
dark. The soft sound continued. Someone was in the driveway, slowly
circling to the front of the house. Other than the laugh, there was
silence.

I felt Gabby move on the bed behind me. The
laughing grew louder. Whoever was outside had heard her move. Only
one of my kind could hear that well. I growled and threw off the
covers.

Fangs exploded in my mouth, and my ears
changed as I struggled to control my rage. For weeks, the
challengers had met me in the abandoned shop, respecting the need
to keep Gabby safe after that first challenge. Why would someone
come here now?

I saw a slight movement through the blinds.
He was standing on the front lawn in the shadows. I narrowed my
eyes, and he grinned wide and laughed loudly. He could see us
because of the light.

With a burst of speed, I knocked the pillows
off the bed then bumped Gabby off, too. As she tumbled over the
edge of the mattress, I leapt toward the bedroom door, cleared it,
and switched off the light before she landed.

I flew out the front door and found the man
crouched low, ready for me. Snow crunched under my bare feet as I
moved toward him. His lips parted with a growl, and he moved to the
side, studying me. I snarled back as I sized him up. His shoulders
were narrower than mine, his fingers, thinner, but I outweighed
him. I’d use that. But first, I needed to know his skill.

Moving in a blur, I rushed him and swiped at
his torso with my changed nails. Material ripped, but he managed to
move out of the way, just skirting the direct glow of the
streetlight before he rushed at me. I twisted, turning with his
attack to avoid being hit. As he passed me, I used my foot to
tangle his. He growled as he fell, and I retreated a few steps
toward the house, ready for his next attack.

The man snarled, and when he lifted his
head, his eyes had dilated. He was losing control, on the verge of
change.

“We need to take this elsewhere,” I said
quietly, aware of the houses around us. How long until someone
heard us?

His skull moved under his skin, reshaping,
and he crouched low again as his mouth reshaped, too. He wasn’t
ready to listen. I focused on allowing my mouth to change, making
it easier to bite him. A good hold on his throat would send him off
and end this before it got out of control.

He lunged forward, his mouth opening. I
leaned back, avoiding his bite, and drove my fist into his gut.

Down the road, a few of the streetlights
blinked off.

He backed away from me and sidestepped, as
if trying to circle around me. Instead of following, I moved closer
to the house and shadowed his step to the side. He snarled and
charged me. This time, I didn’t back away.

I met him with a fist to the face and
enjoyed the sound of the low thud, until he drove his fist into my
ribs. Grunting, I came back with a right fist to his jaw and a left
to his ribs. We moved fast, striking and dodging. I did more
dodging than he did. His breathing became harsh.

Twice more he tried to feint away from the
house, but I refused to follow.

He growled softly and tensed to attack
again. A faint noise behind the house caught my attention. Someone
was on the back porch.

I growled and grabbed the man by the back of
his head. As the back door opened, I put everything I had into the
next hit. My fist met his temple with a crack. I opened my hand,
and he dropped. I didn’t wait to see him fall.

The front door still stood open. Rushing
through it, I barreled into the next challenger who was crossing
the living room.

The man ducked low and wrapped his arms
around my waist, ready to drive me to the floor. I fisted my hands
together, lifted them, and slammed down onto his back as we started
to move. He straightened, trying to clip my jaw with the back of
his head, but I jerked out of the way. Not far enough. His arms
whipped around me and started to squeeze. He had more to him than
the last guy, I felt it in his arms. Hands still locked, I brought
them down on his face, again and again, hammering at him as he
tried to crack my ribs.

From Gabby’s room, I heard movement.

He released me, and we broke apart.

Gabby gasped. He looked over my shoulder,
and I knew he saw her. His expression changed to one of adoration
then swiftly to calculation. I knew that look. I had the same one
months ago when I first saw her and felt the pull. Angry, I fisted
my hand and hit him in the temple, bringing him down as I had the
one outside. He landed hard.

Behind me, Gabby moved. I turned to watch
her. She remained focused on the man on the floor. She looked
horrified. Yet she studied him for a long while.

“What do we do, Clay?” she said finally.

She turned toward me and shivered. The front
and back doors were both open. She needed to get back in bed.

“He’s part changed. With all the noise, I
think the police will be here soon. Can we leave him here like
this?”

Her worry wasn’t just for keeping our race
hidden. She’d felt something for the man on the floor, and it was
tearing me up to think any of her worry might be for him. So, I
nodded and motioned her back to the bedroom.

Sirens screamed in the distance as I tucked
her into bed and closed the door.

When I returned, there was no limp form in
the living room. The back door closed as I eyed the blood-free
carpet. I glanced out the front window. The lawn was clear. They’d
both run.

I waited in the front door as the police
pulled up.

My face hurt. I had no doubt I looked like a
victim as the officers in the first car opened their doors. Good
thing they couldn’t see the other guys and their busted faces.

“Sir, I received a complaint that animals
were fighting in your back yard...what happened to you?” the first
officer asked as the second watched me.

“I need to report an attempted break
in.”

Then the questions started. Did I know who
had attacked me? Had I ever seen my attacker before? Could I
describe him?

I knew they wouldn’t accept short
answers.

“My girlfriend and I were inside when we
heard a noise out here. I came out to investigate after telling her
to stay inside. As soon as I was out, someone hit me from behind.
We scuffled a bit. He was about my height but smaller in the
shoulders. Dark hair. Hazel eyes. Nose had a bump in the bridge.
His teeth were yellow. He had a friend in back. I heard his dog
growling. I managed to knock the guy out on the front lawn,” I
stepped further out the door to the spot in the snow, “here. Then I
went running back inside.” One of the officers glanced at my bare
feet.

Damn.

“I think the adrenaline rush is fading,” I
said calmly. “My feet and hands are freezing. Mind if we go
inside?”

The one who’d spoken waved me in. As soon as
I was inside and had the door closed, I started up again, speaking
softly.

“Once I knocked the one out in front, I ran
back in here. Gabby’s been sick,” I waved to the door, “and I was
worried when I heard something from the back. It was a good thing I
came in. He was standing right here,” I moved to the center of the
room. “He landed a few good punches, but I managed to knock him
out, too. Gabby had gotten out of bed. We heard the sirens. I
helped her back into bed, made sure she was okay, then came out to
wait for you. When I came out, they were both gone.”

“We’d like to talk to your girlfriend.”

“Okay. Just knock on her door. I doubt she’s
sleeping.”

After the police spoke to Gabby, whose pale,
frightened expression gave more credibility to my story, they took
pictures of my hands, face, and the entry points.

Once they left to go bother the neighbors
with questions, I closed myself in the bathroom to wash. Most of
the cuts were starting to knit together. Beyond the sound of
running water, I listened to Gabby move around in her bedroom.

During Gabby’s conversation with the
policemen, she had told them she didn’t want to stay the night and
had said we’d be staying with family during the holiday. She’d
given them her cell number for the follow-up they said they would
need to do.

I knew her desire to leave had little to do
with her safety. She had questions. She was afraid of what had
happened when she’d looked at the man on the floor. So was I. How
could she feel the pull for another werewolf? Sure I knew Gabby’s
scent appealed to all werewolves, but the pull was supposed to be
unique, something only one werewolf could experience when he saw
his Mate for the first time. And I wasn’t mistaken. She’d felt the
pull for me and for the man I’d knocked to the floor. What did it
mean?

I sighed, dried my face and hands, and
quietly left the bathroom. Gabby had dressed and still moved about
her room, her actions tense and jerky. She shoved clothes into her
bag with an aggression I seldom saw in her. I leaned against the
frame and watched her for a while.

When her bag was full, she turned toward the
door, then froze. Her gaze immediately dropped to the floor,
avoiding mine. It hurt. I was as confused as she was over what had
happened, but it didn’t change how I felt about her. Did it change
how she felt about me, though?

I sighed, stepped aside, and motioned her
through the door.

She grabbed her phone and called Rachel to
let her know what had happened and to warn her not to come back
without Peter. After she hung up, I quietly followed her out to the
car. She moved around to the passenger side, still not looking at
me.

Clenching my jaw, I got in behind the wheel.
Was I losing her? I couldn’t stay quiet. I had to say something.
But what?