fate of the alpha - episode 3 (10 page)

“That thing will burn for a hundred years. What are we supposed to do now?” Jimmy Brewer shouted.

“We can’t mine anymore,” said another voice. It was Mr. Kirkland, one of the foremen.

“Without that mine, this town is doomed,” a woman’s low voice carried across the night air.

Mary felt the weight of a new anger pull at her shoulders.

“He just put an end to Copper Creek!” screamed another voice.

Enough.

Mary stood, feeling taller than the mountains.

“Shut up!” she screamed.

Silence, sudden and complete, blanketed the crowd. The eyes of the whole town bore down on her.

Just yesterday, she would have been ashamed to stand naked and dirty before a single person. And now she stood proud, letting the cold wind whip her hair and buffet her body. Since her first change, she hadn’t needed her glasses anymore. But she had hid behind them anyway, they were another layer between Mary and the world. Now they were broken somewhere in the gravel, and she was glad.

“You shut your mouth, Jimmy Brewer,” she shouted. “And you too Mr. Kirkland.”

Her voice had taken on a deeper quality that frightened her, but excited her all the same.

The men sensed the power behind her words, or the fallacy in their own, and looked at their feet.

“The man that just went into that mine is a hero to this town,” she said. “Just like my daddy. Don’t you ever forget that. Anyone that says different is going to have to answer to me.”

It was a silly thing for a fifteen year old to say — she knew that. But no one questioned her. She could feel the fire in her own eyes as she held the pack in her gaze.

A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd. They began to point and crane their necks to look past her.

Mary whipped around to face the mine. Something was coming out.

If Erik had failed, and the creature, whatever it was, had gotten loose, they were all doomed. Mary headed toward the entrance, a low growl building in her throat. If the thing was going to kill her, she would die spitting in its miserable eye.

A blackened body half-crawled, half dragged itself toward her.

Erik.

Oh god, it was Erik.

Mary broke into a run. Her mother and Miss Bonnie moved aside for her immediately this time, then fell into step behind her.

She bolted for Erik. He collapsed onto his chest, and rolled onto his back before she made it there. The coppery odor of his blood and the terrifying breath of the fire poured off him. Only a tiny sigh of his spicy amber scent still clung to him.

Mary dropped to her knees. She felt someone wrap a blanket around her shoulders and didn’t bother to look up.

She gazed into Erik’s perfect eyes. His body was horribly burned, charred in some places, but his eyes had been mostly spared.

She slid his head gently into her lap and cradled him. He was badly hurt, but she knew he would shift and heal quickly. And she wanted to stroke his fur and comfort him when that happened.

He didn’t shift. Instead, his breath grew shallow.

“Why isn’t he healing? Why doesn’t he shift?” She looked around frantically.

“Because he can’t,” Miss Bonnie said softly from her place at Mary’s shoulder. “He’s not a wolf.”

“What do you mean, he’s not a wolf?” Mary asked, knowing already that the librarian was right.

“Bad people,” Miss Bonnie explained. “People who want that thing in the mine to get free, took his wolf away.”

“Nooo,” Mary howled. “Please don’t go, please.”

She begged, tears streaking down her dirty cheeks as she rocked him desperately. If only she were a grown-up and not a kid. She might know what to do.

But she didn’t know what to do. And Erik wasn’t a wolf. He was just a person, a good person who cared about her family. And he was dying.

Mary leaned in close, her eyes hungrily taking in a last glimpse of the man she would never forget. The man who was not a wolf, yet somehow more of a wolf than any of them.

Someone turned on a spotlight over the site, illuminating him in her arms.

Mary’s vision blurred as her tears dripped onto his charred flesh. The too-bright light stung her wet eyes, forming a golden halo around Erik.

It was right that he should look like an angel. He had saved them. He should have been their alpha.

His chest rattled with what she knew would be his last breath.

“I love you, Erik Jensen,” she whispered. “You will
always
be my alpha.”

CHAPTER 15

G
race’s body felt somehow unbearably hollow and impossibly heavy at the same time.

Only the mantra of her police training kept her going.

Do not
replay the incident mentally
.

Do
take deep breaths
.

Do not
allow yourself to become distracted imagining possible future outcomes
.

Do
focus on staying safe now
.

But her mind stuttered like a broken projector, hung up on the image of Julian disappearing into the red light.

Cressida followed her in silence.

At last, they emerged from the darkness of the woods.

As they approached the intersection of Yale, Grace noticed the excited crowd in the pools of radiance from the overhead streetlights. For a moment, she panicked, thinking that the moroi had already created terror in Tarker’s Hollow.

The squeals of laugher reminded her that it was Halloween. This was the parade from the Community Center through the local businesses.

Her stomach turned as she envisioned that thing tearing through the giddy group of children and parents.

She and Cressida picked up the pace, and crossed Yale. They were wet, dirty and terrified, and the small downtown was packed. Grace tried to imagine what she would say if someone tried to greet them.

They passed the pastry shop and art studio without drawing any attention. There was a crowd outside Coslaw & Associates, where Minnie Henderson gave out candy. Minnie was still tall and thin with a touch of hippie glamour — just as she’d been when Grace and Ainsley were kids.

Grace fought a wave of nausea as she pictured her best friend’s stone cold expression in the cave below town. The expression that said she was willing to watch Grace die.

Grace could hardly blame her, really, she respected Ainsley for making a choice for the greater good. But did she have to make it look so... easy?

“...no, I have no idea where Charley is, Marge. This is his favorite night of the year,” Minnie was saying. She shook her auburn head, jingling the tiny bells in her dangly earrings.

Well, Grace had a pretty good idea of where Charley was. He wasn’t going to be giving out any more candy.

She and Cressida made it across the lawn of the library and into the lower level entrance to the Tarker’s Hollow Police Station uncontested.

The door stood intact, so Grace figured the moroi probably hadn’t arrived. That meant Ainsley was headed for trouble. They would have to join her, but Grace had business here first.

She stormed inside, past the bulletin board and the reception area.

“Gracie?” Dale called to her.

She didn’t break her stride, though she had to avert her eyes as she passed the Interrogation Room. Thinking about her night there with Julian wasn’t going to help her now.

Cressida still followed a step behind. She hadn’t said a word on their trip into town. That was for the best. Grace didn’t feel much like talking at the moment.

She found strange comfort in the presence of the silent she-wolf. Grace was numb with grief and Cressida didn’t give a flying fuck. Together they were a force to be reckoned with.

“Why are you all wet?” Dale continued, trotting after them, his voice at a higher pitch.

Grace unlocked the armory closet and grabbed a 9mm pistol. She checked it, though there was no need. All the weapons in the Tarker’s Hollow PD armory were kept clean and loaded. She saw to that personally. It was perfect.

She locked the door behind her out of habit, and continued toward the holding area.

“What are you doing?” Dale tried again.

“Go back to the desk, Dale.” The gravel in her voice surprised her, and must have told Dale she meant business, because he headed in the other direction immediately.

Grace reached Garrett’s cell.

He stood in the middle of the space, cradling the stump of his right arm in his left. His posture looked almost relaxed, his pale blue eyes clear. It was as if he had known she would come at this exact moment.

“Okay, Sanderson,” Grace said. “I’m going to keep this simple. The moroi ate your friend, Charley, but it’s still hungry. I think you’re going to be next. Let’s go.”

She unlocked the cell door, slid it open with a loud clang, and took a big step back, giving him room to exit.

He held eye contact with her for a long moment before shaking his head.

She lifted the gun and pointed it at him. At this range, she didn’t need to aim.

“Grace,” Cressida said softly.

“This man is the reason Julian is gone,” Grace said firmly. “He is going to pay, one way or the other.”

She thumbed back the hammer of the gun. Garrett remained in place. She would rather he met the same fate as his friend, but she was ready to send him to hell if he didn’t move.

“This isn’t you,
Officer
Kwan-Cortez,” Cressida said, trying to remind her of her duty. “You don’t need this on your conscience.”

“Stay out of this,” Grace warned her.

Cressida sighed, and moved into the path of the firearm, right outside the doorway to the cell.

“You are a good person, Grace. Maybe the only one of us who still is. Don’t throw that away on this dirtbag.”

Grace stared at her, unblinking.

“You can put the gun down now,” Cressida told her.

“I can’t,” Grace replied.

“It’s okay,” Cressida said, in a voice that was almost gentle. “Really.”

“No, no, I mean I
can’t
,” Grace said, panic creeping into her voice. “I can’t move.”

Below them, intricate runes scrawled on the linoleum floor in what looked like blood began to glow and pulse.

How had she not noticed them?

“Shit,” Cressida hissed. “I can’t either.”

Behind her wolf companion, Garrett regarded them with a smug smile.

“Sorry, Officer Kwan-Cortez,” Garrett said, in that annoying, slow voice. “I think I will be taking my leave of you now.”

He moved closer to Cressida, but instead of slipping past her and exiting the cell, he paused behind her and leaned close.

“It is a pity, though,” He whispered in Cressida’s ear as his good hand stroked her damp hair. “I would enjoy getting to know you better.”

“You know,” he teased, meeting Grace’s gaze over Cressida’s shoulder. “The way I did with your other friend, Lilliana?”

The air crackled with the electricity of Grace’s hatred.

Praying to her abuelo for strength, Grace focused all her rage into a tiny pinpoint.

Her finger moved a hair.

Please, just a little more.

The gunshot thundered, deafening in the small space.

CHAPTER 16

A 
insley flew through the woods, Ophelia’s pull on her strengthening as she closed the distance between them.

Her paws kicked up the scent of the rich soil, and the underbrush scratched her pelt with reaching fingers.

In wolf form, Ainsley usually had the simple pleasure of knowing she was doing exactly what she should. But tonight, an unfamiliar note of wrongness sounded just loud enough to be heard through the rhythm of her running.

The magnetism of Ophelia’s call intensified, and Ainsley found herself bursting out of the woods and into Erik’s field. The tall grasses tickled her snout as she bounded toward her alpha.

But she sensed that something wasn’t right.

Ainsley could just see Ophelia’s pale forehead above the grass, and her dark hair swirling in the breeze.

With one last delirious burst of speed, Ainsley sailed over the grasses and landed on splayed legs before her.

Ophelia sat in the grass, naked. She smelled of blood, and fighting.

Ophelia reached out a beckoning hand to Ainsley.

Ainsley obliged immediately by shifting into human form.

Her vision expanded, her other senses receded, and instantly, the details began to arrange themselves.

Ophelia was, bruised and battered, but still in one piece. She must have shifted and fought, but somehow been spared by the moroi.

Could she have beaten it?

Ainsley thought of Ophelia’s performance in the battle with Garret and Charley. If anyone could handle the moroi single handedly, it would be Ophelia.

Ainsley lowered herself onto her hands and knees in the tall grass, intoxicatingly close to the powerful fallen alpha.

Ophelia dragged herself closer still and collapsed into Ainsley’s arms.

Every cell in Ainsley’s body stood at attention, the feeling of actually holding her alpha in her arms should have been overwhelming. But it wasn’t, at least not in the way she would have expected. Instead, she began to feel dreamy.

“What happened?” Ainsley whispered.

“The moroi came. We fought. It drained a lot of my energy, but I defeated it. It will not be harming anyone else.” Ophelia replied with quiet satisfaction.

She made it sound so simple.

Ainsley fought to think through the haze of her submission.

Maybe they had all been a little too worked up about this thing. There certainly hadn’t been alphas as powerful as Ophelia around when the moroi had been locked up in the first place.

“Let’s get you inside,” she murmured in Ophelia’s ear.

“No. I just need a few minutes to gather my strength,” Ophelia said, pinching Ainsley’s shoulder with hard fingers, then squeezing herself more completely into Ainsley’s arms.

“Fine,” Ainsley said, a little taken aback.

Ophelia tilted her head up to gaze at Ainsley. Her eyes were always dark, but tonight they were like black liquid pools.