Last Chance (DarkWorld: SkinWalker Book 3) (17 page)

She snorted again. “That’s exactly what I am worried about.”

We both burst out laughing, and I enjoyed the tiny little island of distraction even though most of my mind remained on the wolves as they followed us along the ridge to our left.

“Anjelo,” I called to him, as he’d walked ahead of us, clearly struggling with the call of the changed. His fists were bunched, the knuckles of his fingers white. He slowed and met my gaze. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I think so.” But the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t.

“Just be strong. There’s absolutely no need to change. They don’t seem too much of a threat. The team is too big for them to even consider attacking, so we should be fine. It’ll pass.” I reassured him, but I myself wasn’t so confident.

Even as we followed the line of soldiers across the black plain, the threat of the wolves was too strong to ignore. The scent they gave off was threatening, not a drop of fear or trepidation at all. And that worried me.

Feline or canine without fear meant the confidence to attack.

***

The attack came so fast I almost didn’t notice the blur of bodies as they flew at the line of Wraiths trudging along the black soil.

I changed instinctively, muscles moving, stretching, growing in a blur of pain and electric pulses. My clothing fell to the ground and I shook them off my back with a flick of my spine. With one part of my brain, I registered Cassandra’s shock, the taste of fear pulsing through her, her sweat, pungent and sweet. Another part of me saw a wolf up ahead run straight at a Wraith Rebel, taking him down with one blow, grabbing his neck and sinking sharp yellow teeth deep into his throat.

Black blood spilled, spurting onto black fur, dripping onto black soil.

Macabre.

Everything around me was a picture in black and white.

Except for the red eyes of those terrible wolves.

I also registered the wolves that headed straight for me. They seemed to have a plan, to attack me, but not one-on-one. Perhaps they sensed they had the advantage of numbers, as if they knew I was stronger than I looked. My lips rose, baring my teeth in a feline snarl. I shifted on my paws, adjusting my direction so I stared straight at the three wolves who faced me. They watch me, nostrils flared, teeth bared, muscles tight, and ready to pounce.

An arrow struck the wolf on the left, plunging deep into its side. The blow flung him sideways into his companion, the injured wolf giving one last pain-filled whine before its body spasmed and he fell to the ground.

The other two wolves ignored their brother, keeping their eyes on me. Another arrow came flying at them, landing in the hard black dirt just in front of the wolf straight ahead of me. It should have acted as a deterrent, but it seemed the wolves were driven by something stronger than just instinct, as if they had a deep need to take me down.

The strike of the arrow spurred the wolves to attack. They settled low on their haunches before launching themselves into the air, straight at me.

I, on the other hand, didn’t wait. Neither did I run. As soon as the wolves moved, I sprang, meeting the first one head on, paw to claw. We crashed into each other, landing on the ground and rolling along together, snarling and lashing out at each other.

My nostrils twitched as the wolf’s hot breath hit my nose. He huffed as he tried to right himself. I swiped at his face, leaving lines of black as my claws ripped through fur and skin, bringing fresh blood welling to the surface. The wolf yelped when I struck, then growled and pushed away, scrambling to get back upright.

I heard the desperate rush of soldiers behind me but resolved to concentrate on my furry attacker. Beside me, Anjelo snarled, but I couldn’t afford to keep an eye on him. Unfortunately, he was on his own until I got this wolf off my back.

He still had his eyes on me, despite his injuries. The skin on half his face hung loose, blood dripping slowly from the open wounds. Yet he still remained focused on me.

Must really hate cats.

I knew he would move before he twitched. The wolf launched himself at me again, a sinister growl leaving his throat as he flew at me. I scrambled to the side and swiped hard at his jugular. For all his lethality, the wolf was no match for a feline who’d trained in fighting for years, both in human and cat form.

My claws struck home, plunged deep into flesh, then pulled free as the wolf’s momentum drew him past me and onto the ground. He squealed and grunted as he hit the dirt, and as I turned, I knew I had him. He writhed on the ground, the vein at his throat gushing steaming black liquid. His body spasmed one last time and stilled.

But before the first wolf died, I was already turning to help Anjelo.

And just in time.

This remaining wolf must have been the wiliest of the three. He had Anjelo pinned to the ground. His lips lifted, baring his canines, preparing to rip out Anjelo’s throat. I didn’t give him the opportunity. I jumped, slamming into the wolf, landing paws to his shoulder. It startled him long enough that when he hit the ground, he didn’t immediately rise. Time enough for me to sink my teeth into the throat he left so vulnerable to attack.

He died within seconds.

The moment I pulled my teeth free from the wolf’s throat, another arrow landed beside me. This one hit so close to my face that it grazed my cheek. I felt the sting and the heat of the blood as I slipped back into human form. Fury rose within me, but it was hampered by arms that threw my thick fur cloak around my naked body.

I glanced at Cassandra gratefully. She’d moved so fast I didn’t think any of the Wraiths had a chance to get much of an eyeful of bare ass. Cassandra drew away to throw Anjelo’s cloak around him. The cloak warmed me, but I didn’t need it. Adrenaline still surged through my veins, keeping my body temperature fairly high. I surveyed the area around us while I caught my breath. It looked like a massacre. More than half a dozen Wraiths lay dead, mauled, and bloody on the black soil.

Anjelo was on his feet beside me, clutching the cloak around him. “What the bloody hell was that?”

General Wren’do answered Anjelo, having appeared out of nowhere behind him. “That was a pack of wild Black Wolves.” Anjelo rolled his eyes as if to say,
Tell me something I don’t know.

“Was there a reason they seemed so intent on killing us? Or is that just their nature?” I asked the general, uncaring that he would likely not bother to look at me when he answered.

Surprisingly, he did meet my gaze, although his expression was icy cold. “They are naturally of a violent nature, but we cannot be sure the odor of a feline did not draw their attention.” I bristled. Seemed he was trying to place the blame for the attack at our feet, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. The general’s face darkened, clearly unhappy that he hadn’t gotten a rise out of me. “I think it would be best if you hurry up and get your clothes back on. We need to get moving in case there are more of them lurking around.”

I nodded stiffly and turned to Cassandra, who had her arms filled with clothing. She handed them out and I took each piece, dressing discreetly beneath the expansive folds of the heavy fur cloak. Minutes later, she moved on to hand Anjelo his clothing. Even before Anjelo was properly done dressing, the general gave the team the go-ahead to start moving again. I glared at him, furious that he couldn’t even give us a decent rest.

But neither Anjelo nor I would ever ask for such a privilege.

***

Once I’d transformed, the scrape on my cheek burned. I struggled to remove my glove, then traced the wound with the tip of my finger. And hissed with pain as my icy fingertip touched broken skin. My fingers were wet and sticky and bright red when I examined them.

Anjelo glanced at me over his shoulder, and I swore under my breath. I hadn’t wanted to bring attention to the wound, but it was now too late as I watched concern bring him to a halt.

“Keep moving,” I growled at him. “I’m not letting anything slow us down.”

“You know you can be so stubborn sometimes,” he growled, his face a dark cloud.

“I’ll be however stubborn I want to be if it means we don’t have that overbearing creep of a general reprimand us for lagging behind or slowing everyone down.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, keeping pace with me. “You got a first aid kit in your handbag?”

“It’s not a handbag, you idiot. It’s a satchel, for your information, and the answer to your question is yes. You know I don’t go anywhere without it. Are you sure you won’t faint at the sight of my blood?”

He snorted. “As long as you don’t expect me to dig more bullets out of you, I’ll be fine.” Over the next few minutes, he fiddled inside my satchel for the first aid kit and cleaned and medicated the wound, all while walking alongside me, keeping pace with the team.

When he finished, he gave my cheek a worried glance. “Is that going to be okay?”

I nodded. “It should heal soon enough. Give it a few hours.”

“You’re gonna have a scar.”

I nodded. “Tough bitches should have scars. Gives them character.”

He snorted and moved ahead to get in line.

Not two hours later, we reached the edge of the Dead Plains, and I had to admit I was pretty happy to have made it through alive, thrilled too that the wolves had left us alone for the rest of the trek. The plains ended in a low ridge not too different from the one from which the wolves had watched us. The front of the line snaked onward without stopping, and we followed, waiting our turn to see the ridge for ourselves.

The closer we got, the more the reality of what we were looking at hit me. The ridge turned into a low mountain, and for a split second, I thought we’d reached Wrygos. But then I remembered we still had to fight our way through the Black Lake.

I sighed as I followed the track up the side of the ridge. The climb taxed my strength, especially after the whole episode with the wolves. I’d kept an eye on Anjelo over the last few hours, worried his almost-end would be bugging him. He seemed fine, but I’d found Anjelo had always had the practiced ability to hide his feelings.

Every now and then, I turned to surreptitiously examine his face. He bore a few scratches, but nothing as bad as my arrow-inflicted wound. I was still pissed off that the general had allowed his men to aim their arrows so close to me. It made me all the more suspicious of him.

Once we reached the top of the ridge, we had a full view of the valley below us. The Black Lake was nothing more than one gigantic, iced-over lake. The entire floor of the valley was covered with hard, white ice, but even from where I was standing, I could see the spots, small darker areas, where the ice was clearly thinner.

The team didn’t pause to take in the view. They walked over the spine of the ridge and continued to make their way down to the valley floor.

Anjelo, Cassandra, and I were following the train of men probably three-quarters of the way down the line. As we descended, our position gave us a little bit of a vantage point. The Wraiths at the head of the line picked their way along the ice carefully. It was clear to me that they knew exactly where they were going. Their route meandered this way and that, a course that nobody could possibly have guessed. We were at the mercy of the Wraith Rebel army

I glanced back at Anjelo and could see both he and Cassandra were feeling the same hint of trepidation I was. If the commander saw fit, he could ensure we walked right into a trap.

Anjelo caught up with me. As I drew closer, I said, “I think it’s best if we stay close to the soldiers right in front of us. The biggest mistake we can make is to allow them to get too far ahead of us. We need to make sure we step where they step, and keep your eye out. You just never know which of these Wraiths is out to ensure we get ourselves killed.”

Anjelo nodded. “It’s good to see you feel exactly the same way I do.”

The team moved slowly. Each Wraith walked behind the other, leaving at least ten feet of space. It made complete sense. Nobody could assume how much weight the ice would carry, so minimizing the amount on any particular point was the best strategy.

Anjelo, Cassandra, and I followed suit, walking where the Wraiths walked, following in their footsteps.

A shout up ahead made my heart trip, but I noticed the line of men in front of us came to a slow halt. The commotion made me more than sure that one of the soldiers had fallen in. There was nothing we could do other than wait in silence. Peering around the bodies in front of us made little difference because the path curved so much that even if we were able to see past the soldiers, the view of what was happening was well hidden from us.

At last, the noise died down, but there was no way of telling whether the Wraith soldier had been saved or swallowed by the black waters.

Behind me, I heard Anjelo say, “Even though I’ve been on this route before, I can honestly say I would rather be somewhere else right now.”

I knew exactly what he meant. All this trekking over wild lands was testing my patience. Part of me wondered whether we were being led on a wild goose chase, yet another part of me insisted I had to follow every lead if I was ever to find my mother.