Blood Diamond (2 page)

He’d be right, too, but I wasn’t going to admit it, not to him or anyone else.

Checking my gun once again, I headed into the forest in the direction the Inquisitors had headed hours before.

~~*~~

It didn’t take me long to lose the trail, leaving me to rely on the GPS to hunt the Inquisitors down. When I powered it on, I was relieved to find that it had been preprogrammed with the Fenerec’s transponders. According to the device, I had a two-mile hike in dress shoes ahead of me. I glared at the backlit screen, but the reading didn’t change.

Next time, I’d leave a pair of hiking boots or sneakers near my door. On second thought, I’d just slam the door on my brother and tell him to find someone else to sacrifice. The lure of driving the Red Beast wouldn’t catch me a second time. If he wanted to bribe me using a car, he’d need something a lot faster—and sleeker—to tempt me. I considered it a lesson learned.

My brother never played getaway driver, nor would he get the chance. I was expendable. He wasn’t. If anything, the Inquisition would be happy to be rid of me, as I confused the hierarchy with my existence. I was older by a few minutes, but thanks to my witchcraft, the mantle of Shadow Pope belonged to my twin.

It kept me alive, off the active duty roster for the most part, and away from the other Inquisitors. In that, my brother had done right by me.

I sighed, shaking my head at the GPS display, and stretched. At the risk of breaking an ankle, I headed off at a jog. If I pushed my luck and ran my usual pace, it’d take a little under twenty minutes for me to reach the transponders and my team’s bodies. With luck, the Fenerec woman wouldn’t be far from the massacre. I hoped she wouldn’t tear my head off when I tried to help her.

At least no one had told me I couldn’t rescue any of the targeted Fenerec; for all I knew, she might have accepted her transformation into a wolf so she wouldn’t be eaten by the rogue pack. I’d heard stories of such things happening from other Inquisitors, though I hadn’t met anyone coping with those circumstances yet. From my experience—and the fact that she was one of two women featured in the photos—Fenerec females were about as rare as male witches.

We had both drawn short straws in our lives.

For better or worse, the moon neared being full, which offered me enough light to see by. It didn’t spare me from the roots hidden beneath the leaves blanketing the forest floor, though I managed without falling on my face. When I was a quarter of a mile from the transponders, I slowed to a walk, pulling out the woman’s photo from my pocket. She still lived.

With luck, I would find her before she found me, allowing me a chance to prove I wasn’t out for her blood like my teammates. Being ripped apart by the woman I wanted to rescue was on the bottom of my list of ways to die. Old age topped the list, though at the rate I was going, that wish was about as substantial as pipe smoke.

The thought woke my craving for a cigarette, a habit I had defeated at my wife’s request, broken a mere week before she’d died five years ago. I stumbled to a halt, struggling against the urge to crumple the woman’s photograph.

Maybe it was a trick of the moonlight, but she had Suzanne’s eyes—the deep, hard green of a jade dragon, equally fierce and majestic. If the woman’s eyes had been brown or blue, would I have cared?

The picture wrinkled in my tightening grip. The answer was part of the reason my wife had chosen to marry me. I wouldn’t have cared. I wouldn’t have cared at all. The woman likely needed help, and I was the only one who could aid her. Who else would go out after a Fenerec without being one? Not many would. My brother would be furious at my stupidity and foolish heroics, but my sweet, quiet Suzanne would have understood.

Five years hadn’t done a whole lot to dull the edge of my grief for her and our unborn child. I still missed her. I hadn’t been able to save them from the car accident that had claimed their lives. If I had been there, if I had been the one driving instead of Suzanne, would it have made a difference? Instead, I had been working for the Inquisition. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths.

Suzanne was dead. The jade-eyed Fenerec lived. Later, I would confess all of my sins at my wife’s grave. Pocketing the crumpled photograph and the GPS unit, I stalked through the trees, wincing as I stepped on each and every twig on my way to the Fenerec’s den. I was close enough I didn’t want the light from the unit betraying my presence to anyone who didn’t happen to hear me.

I was so focused on what was ahead that I didn’t notice the wolf until I tripped over it. I fell hard, sprawling over the animal. It wiggled beneath me, yipping in pain. A mouth full of teeth snapped at me, and I recoiled to dodge them, backing away with my heart in my throat. At maybe thirty pounds, the wolf looked more like a coyote—if coyotes had reddish fur. I was pretty certain they didn’t.

The wolf’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight. Instead of snarling at me, the animal put its ears back, struggling to crawl away from me. One of its hind legs dragged uselessly behind it. Jade-rimmed, golden eyes remained fixed on me.

If the small wolf wasn’t the woman from the photograph, I’d be astounded—unless someone other than the Inquisition had been out hunting unnatural canines. Despite everything I’d been told about injured Fenerec, she didn’t attack me, which I considered to be a promising sign. Maybe she wouldn’t try to rip my face off.

I kept still and said in as soft a tone as I could manage, “I’m not going to hurt you.” While my voice wasn’t particularly deep, my words rumbled in my effort to stay quiet.

She froze, staring at me with widening eyes. The jade rimming her pupils brightened in the moonlight.

I murmured a prayer of thanks for my good fortune. With the Fenerec woman with me, I wouldn’t have to head deeper into the forest and closer to the den, which was likely ground zero of the battle between the rogue Fenerec and the Inquisitors.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll get you out of here safe and sound.” With slow, exaggerated movements, I shrugged out of my suit jacket. When the wolf didn’t react, I draped it over her. She whined when I touched her. Wincing at the thought of hurting her more, I hesitated. I’d be whining too if I had a hole in my leg. I couldn’t see the injury, but her fur matted where she bled. “Will you please let me take a look at your leg?”

The wolf’s gaze met mine, and after a long, tense moment, she nodded. Like my movements, hers were slow and deliberate. With a click of her teeth, she closed her jaws. Her docility alarmed me almost as much as my close proximity to an injured Fenerec. I’d been warned about the nature of injured Fenerec. My orders had been clear in that regard; if any of them were hurt, they rode in the back, even if all nine ended up there instead of up front with me.

If a Fenerec went on a pain-induced rampage, I’d be a mauled corpse by the time they were finished. Injured didn’t mean helpless, although I had a hard time believing the she-wolf was much of a threat.

The little wolf whined at the pressure of my hands on her leg, but she kept still. I worked my fingers into her matted fur, finding the entry wound by touch. She snapped her teeth at me though she didn’t bite. The thought of her tearing a chunk out of me birthed a cold sweat on my brow.

Shifting my grip on her, I ran my hand over my jacket towards her head until I reached her neck, taking hold of her scruff so I could pin her down. With my other hand, I searched for the exit wound, instead finding the lump of a bullet under her skin.

Swallowing back my desire to curse—one simply didn’t spew vile epitaphs in front of a lady, Fenerec or otherwise—I said, “I’ll need to cut it out. I don’t know if it’s silver.”

If she’d been shot by the Inquisition, the bullet was silver-forged, a hollow point with enough of the metal coating the jacket to ensure a struck Fenerec would eventually die. I’d done the final ammunitions check for the team since I was the only one who could touch them without being burned.

She whined, her eyes widening.

The pocketknife attached to my keys made a poor tool for surgery, but it was all I had. I hoped she’d forgive me and that I wasn’t about to give her an infection trying to save her. Mumbling to myself, I adjusted how I knelt, pressing one of my knees against her shoulders and neck so I could free my hand to work on her leg.

“Please don’t bite me, ma’am.” Once I was certain I had her as pinned as possible without hurting her further, I took hold of her leg, clenched my teeth, and sliced my knife over the lump, hoping I wasn’t driving the silver deeper into the muscle in the process. Blood—too dark to be red—gushed from the cut. Tossing aside my keys, I considered the bullet. Digging it out would hurt her, and there was nothing I could do to ease her pain. If the Fenerec were like other animals, she’d be howling before I finished.

The last thing I wanted was to attract unwanted attention, so I risked wrapping my fingers around her muzzle to keep her jaws closed. She thrashed beneath me, her yips and growls muffled by my hold on her.

Focusing on her leg, I located the bullet with my index finger and thumb, pinching beneath the projectile to force it out of the muscle. Her muffled cries grew louder as I worked the silver out of the wound. Blood spurted as I forced the round out. It fell to the ground, disappearing into the fallen leaves.

The Fenerec moaned, shuddering beneath me.

“All done, ma’am,” I whispered as soothingly as I could. Stabbing a Fenerec in order to remove a silver bullet topped the list of crazy things I’d done in my life, most of which I had accomplished within the past twelve hours. Driving my brother’s Red Beast like a sports car came a close second, leaving my black market racket, all done on behalf of the Inquisition, for third place. At least my illegal business dealings paid well, considering the risks involved.

While I didn’t want my hand anywhere near her teeth, something unavoidable if I wanted to let go of her muzzle, I loosened my grip, hoping I moved slow enough to avoid stirring her ire further.

The Fenerec moved lightning fast, I had to give her that much. Before I was aware she had struck, her jaws closed around my left hand. Instead of biting, her silky tongue curled around my fingers, coating me with slobber.

I stared at her, a lump in my throat choking off my breath. While her fangs didn’t penetrate my skin, I was aware of each and every one of them pressing into me. Maybe she didn’t weigh much, but I had no doubts she was warning me what she was capable of.

When our staring contest began was a mystery, but I couldn’t force myself to look away, something I should’ve done. Fenerec didn’t like humans challenging them. My brother had made a point of mentioning that fact several times while surrendering the keys to his precious monstrosity of a truck. Don’t meet their gaze had been rule number one. Lower my head and look submissive had been rule number two. If I played their game as they wanted, I’d walk away intact, without so much as a scratch to show for my interactions with my volatile teammates.

Her gold and green eyes held mine, drowning my awareness of anything besides the feel of her fur under my one hand and her fangs and tongue on the other. The need for air burned my lungs. I should’ve done something other than gawk at her like an idiot, but I couldn’t. Like me, she seemed equally powerless—or too stubborn—to look away.

That both comforted and pleased me, and I didn’t know why.

A bright flash accompanied by a concussive blast broke my concentration. My ears rang while balls of light burst and danced in my vision.

The Fenerec’s fangs tore into me.

Chapter Two

I wasn’t sure why I was lying on the ground.

The Fenerec had stopped using me as a chew toy in favor of crawling all over me, her paws pressed against my chest with her cold, wet nose pressed against my throat. She huddled close to me, shivering as though it were deep winter instead of late spring.

Within fifty feet of me, the underbrush smoldered, but recent rainfalls kept the damp foliage and leaves from igniting. Farther into the forest, where I suspected the den had once been, were the burning ruins of fallen trees, filling the air with smoke. The scattered bits and pieces of my memory fell together.

There had been an explosion.

I shook my head, and at my movement, the Fenerec’s ears pricked forward. My ears hurt worse than my hand, and the ringing in my head deafened me to any other sound. I felt more than heard the little wolf’s whine. She wiggled, shoving her head under my chin.

If it weren’t for the jade in her eyes and the fact she seemed to understand what I was saying, I would’ve suspected her to be a regular dog, not a Fenerec. Fenerec weren’t supposed to be cute, cuddly, or friendly—especially not when hurt. The blood of a prey species, humans included, was supposed to bring out the predator in them. While I was well aware she was a predator, I didn’t feel like prey.

I couldn’t bring myself to fault her for mauling me. The explosion had caught us both by surprise. I tried to piece together why I was lying against a tree. Had we been close enough for it to knock me over? I remembered the flash-bang of the detonation, but nothing afterward. Wincing, I lifted my hand to inspect the damage. The gashes, both on my palm and the back of my hand, had already stopped bleeding for the most part, although a few of the deeper wounds still oozed blood. Bracing against the pain I was about to subject myself to, I flexed my fingers.

All of them moved. The wounds pulled and hurt about as much as my throbbing ears, but the Fenerec hadn’t done enough damage to impair my movement. With luck, I wouldn’t need stitches. How long did it take gashes to cease bleeding? I couldn’t remember. I estimated longer than twenty minutes, but less than an hour.

Using my elbow so I wouldn’t put my hands at risk of another bite, I fended her off so I could sit up. She sprawled on my lap, pressing her head against my stomach. The back of my head ached, and when I reached up to touch it, I discovered a tender lump behind my ear. I had no recollection of hitting anything, though judging how I was sprawled against the trunk of a tree, I must have smacked into it one way or another.