The leader was the tallest man Amber had ever seen. He had ducked his head when coming through the door. His shoulders were broad and his hips were narrow. His dark brown hair hung down past his shoulders, where he pulled it back with a leather tie. Watching him saunter into the room caused Amber
to
want to flee. She watched as the leader used the toe of his boot to pull the wooden stool from the bar and straddle the seat casually. He stared at Winona, for good measure, he sniffed the air again, and a smile lit his face.
The danger was evident by the way her mother backed away nonchalantly from the men approaching the bar. Amber watched as Winona did her best to hide her shock and fear at seeing part of her pack again after so many years.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” the leader said looking over at his men, motioning for them to grab a seat. They copied his actions, straddling the stools, bellying up to the counter, resting their elbows and forearms on the edge of the polished wooden bar.
Where the leader was broad and muscular, the rest of the group was lean and sinewy. They varied in size, but were still larger than normal humans. They were younger than their leader, Amber guessed, not much older than herself. Even from where she stood, she could feel that they lacked his confidence, but they were still intimidating as a pack. Each of them wore their long dark hair pulled back and tied at the nape of their necks. Their dark eyes scanned the empty diner. They were a noisy group, filling the spacious room with their loud conversations and laughter.
Keeping silent, hoping they wouldn't notice her, Amber shrank deeper into the shadows in the far corner of the room. She watched her mother closely.
Winona yanked the dishrag from the pocket of her apron and began wiping down the counter top and rearranging the glasses to avoid looking at the men. “What can I get you, gentlemen?”
“Winona, baby, I wondered where you had gotten off to.” The other men snickered when they heard the sneering sweetness from the big man.
Winona pretended not to hear him. “Can I get you something?”
“Yep, how about a nice piece of ass?” the cub to the left of the leader said, and was rewarded with a hard elbow to the side, which shut him up fast.
“You know, that whiskey you poured down your front did nothing to hide your scent, but smells really good. I think a round for me and my boys will do.” A gleam lit his eyes while he ogled Winona. Suddenly he stiffened.
Amber watched in fea
r when the leader slowly turnied
his head and stared straight at the corner where she sat.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as he looked her up and down. Her skin crawled and she felt the burning claws of something wanting to slash its way out of her body. It wanted to claw his eyes out for daring to look at her. Amber wondered if this is how it felt to shift. She knew her wolf was inside her, but had never felt its presence until that moment.
Winona quickly stepped in to take the man’s attention away from her daughter. “Whiskey it is. Coming right up, can I get you anything from the menu?” She asked quickly pulling out and filling five glasses. She slid the shots in front of the men and turned away, grabbing the menus from the shelf behind the bar. The men picked up their glasses and tossed the liquid into their mouth, inhaling sharply when the whiskey burned sliding down their throats.
Winona reached out to place the menu in front of the leader. She glanced up nervously into the larger man’s dark brown eyes. Before she saw him move, in a blink of an eye, his hand shot out and grabbed her right wrist. Twisting, he pulled her hard against the far side of the bar.
The four other men grew quiet. They watched eagerly to see what their superior was going to do, waiting to respond to his command.
“Do you know how much hell you have caused? We have been looking for you for fifteen years,” he told her in a deceptively soft voice, stroking her long black hair with his free hand.
“Let go, Tommy. I’m no longer part of the pack.”
“You’re always part of us; no one leaves unless they’re dead.”
“Let her go!” Amber ordered in a small, but strong voice from the corner where she stood, momentarily forgotten. She saw the look of dread cross her mother’s face. When Tommy turned his head to glare at Amber, Winona mouthed for her to run.
To her surprise, the man burst out laughing. Amber stood with a small hand gun pointed at him. “You think you can hurt me with that?” he asked flippantly, tightening his hold on Winona’s hand, causing her to wince in pain.
“No, but I can.” A deeper voice said from the other side of the bar. Byron had sensed the strange wolves the moment they entered his bar. Even though he was a werewolf, he enjoyed hunting as a human, the bow and arrow was the closest, easiest thing for him to grab. Plus, he was an excellent shot. The arrow would pierce the other werewolf’s heart. Take out the leader and the pack was less likely to attack. Byron stood in the doorway with the arrow aimed straight at Tommy’s chest.
“Let’s see here. You have a little girl with a pea shooter and one man with a bow and arrow aimed at five of us?” He laughed mockingly, motioning towards his men, who had not budged from their bar stools.
“One is all it takes to kill you.” Byron responded calmly, his hand holding the arrow steady.
Tommy laughed again, but dropped Winona’s hand. Holding his hands up at shoulder level, he stood and knocked the bar stool over. “Boys, don’t think we’re wanted here.” He began to reach for his pocket, but stopped when Byron growled.
“Don’t move a muscle.” Byron snarled menacingly.
“I’m just trying to pay for the drinks, man,” Tommy informed him, raising his hand back up and away from his body.
“Drinks are on the house. Safe travels out of my territory.”
Tommy raised his eyebrows as he sniffed the air and frowned in Winona’s, then Amber’s, direction. Amber saw the realization hit him that the werewolf he had smelled was not only Winona, but that of another pack. He had been so focused on Winona that he had completely ignored the smell of another male wolf.
Byron drew the string back a notch further, “Keep your hands and nose from my wife and daughter.”
Tommy growled whipping his head around. “We don’t mix pack blood and we don’t produce mutts!” he exclaimed, glaring at Winona, noticing the ring on the finger of her left hand for the first time.
“Just leave.” Winona ordered wearily, grabbing the counter for support. Tommy began backing away. The other men followed suit, heading quietly towards the door. They kept their eyes on Byron and his arrow following their progress.
“This is not over, babe,” Tommy growled and shoved hard at the door, banging it against the outside wall, breaking the glass pane in the process. He turned and stomped through the opening. Shouting angrily for the men to get in, he slammed the door to his truck and started it. The king cab pickup tore out of the parking lot, fishtailing, gravel flying and tires squalling when they hit the pavement.
Byron lowered the bow when he saw that the men were in the truck and actually leaving. He breathed a sigh of relief, pulling Winona to him. Amber ran to them, her body trembled from the mixture of adrenaline and fear. Byron reached for the pistol she held shakily at her side. Amber watched as her mother looked at Byron with terrified eyes. Winona was too frazzled to ask Amber how she had gotten the gun.
“We have to get out of here now!” She exclaimed through frightened tears. “They will come back.”
“They have to respect pack law. This is my territory and they were asked to leave.”
Winona shook her head. Pulling Amber tightly to her she stated adamantly, “You don’t understand; they have no regard for the law and will do as they wish. I’ve told you before of my pack’s tie to the Council. They won’t stop! Not until I’m in pack territory. You and Amber will be dead!” Clutching Amber to her. Amber had seen her mother upset before, but not to the point of hysteria
.
CHAPTER FIVE
A
mber recalled the night vividly. She stayed in her room while her mother and Byron argued over them leaving. She had listened intently when her mother warned Byron that Tommy would not believe that Amber was his daughter.
At the time, it hadn't made sense to Amber what she was hearing. Her mother had been raped by multiple werewolves and that any of them could be her father. Amber shook her head to clear her thoughts. Maybe her mother meant that he
could
be her father, not that he was.
Byron and Winona were still arguing about them leaving when Tommy returned later that night with reinforcements. Byron had called his brother Jason to come in for support, but that was not enough.
Amber listened as Tommy’s crew stormed the house behind the bar. Fists were flying while bodies hurtled through the air smashing furniture throughout the room. Winona screamed loudly as Tommy grabbed her. His men had knocked Jason unconscious and held Byron’s beaten and bloodied body to the floor.
Amber stood behind the closed and locked door of her room. She could hear everything. The words that Tommy snarled burned into her brain.
“By Council’s orders, I am here to return you, Winona Gray Hamilton, runaway pack member, back to the den. Council leader Isaac Whiting has ordered that your daughter be brought before the Council. You are a disgrace to your bloodline and your mutt will be dealt with by the Council.”
Amber heard her mother’s screams for her to run. She couldn’t let that man take her mother back to that place. Instead of running, she reached for the door to unlock and jerk it open when she was grabbed from behind. The arms were like a vice and the hand that slid around her mouth secured her scream. His grip didn’t falter when she struggled violently to escape, biting at the hand that was held firmly across her mouth. She hadn’t heard the man that had slipped into her room; she was so intent on listening to what was happening in the living room.
“Stop!” At the commanding sound of the voice Amber ceased struggling, but stood stiffly in his arms. The words didn't make sense to her. “Don’t scream or they will come. You have to get out of here.”
At her nod in agreement to not scream, the large hand was removed slowly from her mouth. She whispered, “What do you want?” She was terrified but stood still.
“I want my granddaughter to be safe,” the big man whispered in a broken voice.
Amber gasped, realizing that this was her mother’s father. He slipped something into her pocket and turned her towards him. She stared into the chocolate brown, sad eyes of her grandfather.
Tears were streaming down her face. Amber shook her head and tried to speak, to say something, but nothing came out. This was her family and her grandfather was sending her away? Amber couldn't wrap her brain around the fact that the pack wanted her mother to come back home, but they didn't want her.
The Council was going to deal with her.
She shook her head in denial that this could be happening. She could still hear her mother screaming in the next room. Her grandfather rushed her towards the other door that led to the back hallway and to the back porch.
She pushed against him, to turn back to her mother.
“Don’t fight, little one; you will die if you go back there. You must get out now. Go and don't look back,” he told her, hurrying her out through the darkness to the waiting car. He pushed her gently into the back
seat, quickly and quietly pushed the door shut, tapping the top of the car. The driver didn't say a word to her, but took off and left the small restaurant bar behind. She was leaving her mother and the only family she had ever known.
∞∞∞
Maybe the stres
s of being pulled from her mother had caused her change to be delayed. She just didn't know. Amber continued to wonder why she didn’t change when she came of age like her mother said she should.
Amber had followed her grandfather’s advice and had not looked back. She kept running like her mother had taught her, from town to town, state to state. Through the years, even though she had not changed, her werewolf senses had been heightened ever since her grandfather had slipped the stone into her pocket. What the stone was, Amber didn’t know, but knew as long as she held onto it, she could hear, see, and smell things she had never noticed before.
Amber’s mother’s pack had only come close to finding her one time since that night at the diner. In the mountains in northern California, her temporary employer had talked her into staying one more night, until they hired someone to replace her. Against her better judgment Amber agreed and had gone to the front desk of the motel to extend her stay for another night. When she returned to her room, the stone was gone. After frantically tearing her room apart, she retraced her steps.
Amber frowned, her agitated strides taking her quickly back the way she had come, back to the motel lobby. When she turned the corner, a smell hit her and her head came up from where she searched the ground with each step. Amber quickly realized she was about to be face to face with a member of a werewolf pack. Each pack has a distinctive smell, this one she recognized as her mother’s line.
Amber's instincts kicked into overdrive. Even though she still did not have the ability to shift, she felt something clawing at her insides to kill the wolf before he could broadcast to the others that she was there.