Pack and Coven (14 page)

“Better idea. Hide in the cellar. I'm sure the dispatcher told you to do that anyway.” June bumped her arm on the counter and flinched. “My wrist hurts.”

“I'm not getting trapped down there.” Harry had helped another friend of theirs build shelves in the low, dank room carved into the hill behind June's house where she stored canned goods, bulk items and old clothes. As far as he knew, she didn't store weapons and guns. “We're running.”

“We won't get trapped. There's a back door.” She shook a small pill out of a nearly empty bottle and popped it in her mouth.

“You mean that vent? Too small.”

“The root cellar is bigger than you think. The door is concealed.” She slipped her feet into a pair of plastic clogs. “They won't even know we're there.”

What was she talking about? The cellar door was beneath the hallway floor, covered by a fluffy rug. The rug disguised the edges, but any wolf who crossed over the door would notice the change in pitch.

“I'm not taking that chance.” Harry was done arguing. He picked June up and carried her to the Florida room. Beyond it was a screened porch and the woods. The mountain rose sharply behind the house, but he knew a way up the cliff. “They're pack, June. That means they're strong enough to—”

The remainder of his statement was cut short by a crash from the living room, followed by laughter. The picture window. That answered the question of how the shifters were getting in.

“Jerks,” she muttered. “Glass is expensive.”

He hustled her out the rear door, alert for sounds of pursuit. Gavin was cussing the hell out of whomever had broken the window. Harry scanned the backyard, thankful he'd repaired the formerly squeaky screen door.

“Will they chase us?” June whispered.

“Who knows what those idiots will do?” Their breath steamed in the frosty air. “We'll climb the bluff, hit Horse Mountain Road and steal a car.” A semi-flat area atop the mountain boasted a small community of houses.

“We most certainly will not steal a car.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “It's cold after that rain.”

“Shhhh.” They crossed the yard as silently as possible. Shifters had astute senses in human form, but the housebreakers would be focused on searching a house they thought was empty, not listening for escapees.

Once past June's property line, the manicured landscape disintegrated into trees, scrub and rocky slope. The mixed evergreen-and-deciduous forest blocked what light the stars and moon offered. Harry had navigated this on four legs, not two. Since June had no wolf, shifting wasn't an option.

Though she did have a shirt. Good thing they hadn't slept nude. Who'd have thought he'd be wrong about that?

Wet brambles thrashed Harry's chest as he endured the brunt of the trail blazing. The frigid air nipped his skin. If the wolves gave chase, they'd have no trouble locating this path. He had to hope they wouldn't realize there was anyone to follow.

Small bluffs began to dominate the landscape along with the trees and laurel. Slick ground cover created unstable footholds, and several times they knocked rocks loose.

When June tripped and fell the fourth time, Harry realized their mad dash up the incline wasn't working. The tree cover was dense, the lighting limited. Scratches crisscrossed his skin and hands. He could only imagine how she felt.

Pebbles clattered as he muscled her to her feet. Her warm breath tickled his chest, and her damp pajamas grazed his belly.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“I can't see a thing.” An owl called overhead, and June trembled. “Isn't there a cliff around here? What if we accidentally walk into it?”

He smoothed her hair out of her face. “I can see okay. We'll be all right.”

She rested against his chest, her heart thumping. “Instead of going up, what if we follow Route 56 to town? We can hide in the back of the tea room.”

“Too obvious. Apparently everyone knows I go there.” And here he'd thought his love for the tea room had been a secret from the pack. So much for his cleverness.

“Especially the coven,” she agreed. “I wish it weren't so dark. I can't see where my feet should go or what's safe to grab.”

If he weren't careful, she was going to get hurt. “I've got an idea. Hold on to my back pocket.”

“Okay, but you'll have to slow down. I don't want to make both of us fall.”

“Don't worry about that. Just hold on.” She couldn't knock him over unless he let her. He'd wolfed out as much as possible without growing fur. It increased his stamina and steadiness. He just had to be careful not to bite his tongue.

Muttering under her breath, she clung to the back of his jeans with one hand. He paused frequently so she could use him to lever past obstacles. The strenuous exercise ought to keep her from getting chilled.

“Wait, my shoe fell off.” She crouched, patting the ground. “Can you see it?”

The clog was wedged several yards downslope, a splash of neon against the dark leaves and rocks.

“Gotcha.” He fetched the shoe and straightened to inspect their location.

They hadn't gotten far, but it was far enough that he could no longer hear the intruders at June's house. They were several hundred feet above town elevation-wise, a mile distance-wise. The woods were pretty old growth, the night creatures loud enough to muffle other creatures—like wolves. Water dripped from the trees onto their heads in cold splats.

They should reach the big cliff soon. The rock face was too sheer to attempt without proper equipment. They'd have to work their way along the bottom to the cleft he used as a wolf.

On the plus side, the canopy thinned at the base of the cliff and June would be able to see. On the minus side, so would anyone looking for them.

Several boulders loomed up the slope. Harry searched for an easy way around. In the distance, he heard police sirens.

June grabbed his pocket and hauled herself beside him. He snuggled her against him, rubbing her arms. From the feel of it, her pajamas weren't doing much to protect her from the cold.

“Harry,” she said between pants, “when the shifters run from the cops, are they going to head this way?”

Shit.
She was right. He and June needed to take cover—fast. The shifters might go east, toward town, but they might tear straight up the mountain.

“Let's hide.”

“We should have hidden in my cellar.”

Beside the boulders was a sturdy pine with low branches. “Up there.”

The closeness of his wolf heightened Harry's body temperature, which June seemed to appreciate. Her arms tightened around him. “Where? It's so dark I might as well be in a cave.”

“There's a tree beside two boulders. We'll climb it. They won't be looking up.” In his experience, shifters on four legs were remarkably unobservant of overhead areas, and shifters on two legs would be too busy trying to keep up.

June gusted out a big breath. “Tree-climbing. Sheesh.”

He half carried, half led her to the tree. With a boost on his part, she hoisted herself into the bottom branches. It wasn't as wet beneath the thick covering of needles. One of her shoes promptly fell on his head.

“Rats.” June's voice floated down through the swish of pine.

He shoved it in his back pocket, the material squishy and malleable. “Take your other shoe off.”

She rustled above him. Water rained down as she jostled the branches. “My clogs are great for gardening, but this is ridiculous.”

“We're doing great.” Harry wiped his face. The thin wail of the siren had become stationary at June's. He doubted the cops would glimpse the shifters, but they'd wonder about the broken window and why Miss Sandie wasn't in her house. They'd also wonder who'd placed the 9-1-1 call.

June's absence would raise more alarms than the ones on the roof of the squad car. She was well liked in the community and not known to associate with rough characters.

Bark crunched as she ascended. “I haven't climbed a tree in ages. How high should I go?”

“Higher.” He pulled himself onto the bottom branch. The boughs quivered as they fought to squirm through them.

Pines were difficult to climb at best, with tight branches and sticky sap. Thousands of needles blocked the light from the trunk. Harry could only see down. Sap dotted his fingers, stinging the scrapes. Prongs and rough bark awaited every movement.

At twenty feet up, they should be able to hop to the boulder. It would be more comfortable.

Harry was reaching for the next sizeable branch when hands latched on to his ankle, yanking him straight down through the dark.

With a curse, Harry crashed into the ground, a stick jabbing his ribs. His head banged a rock and stars exploded in his vision.

“What happened?” June called. “Did you slip?”

“Stay where you are.” He groped for the stick in his side. His hand came away wet, and the scent of blood flooded his nostrils. “Who's there?”

The hands grabbed him roughly, tugging him to his feet. “Dude, a better question is, who's climbing a tree?”

He'd heard that surfer guy accent twenty minutes ago. Maurice, Gavin's minion.

Maurice tried to yank Harry's arm behind his back. Ignoring the throb of his head and ribs, Harry broke the man's grasp so easily it surprised him, using a martial arts move he'd picked up at some point.

His wolf snarled closer to the surface in a rush of strength.

Maurice attempted to tackle him. They grappled, neither able to land a punch. Maurice's wiry body was nude and slippery, but Harry had the upslope advantage. He shoved the other man back.

Undaunted, Maurice regained his footing and lunged. Harry struck out, his fist encountering Maurice's face. Maurice reeled and came at him again.

This time Maurice reached him. As they stumbled back, the lower branches of the tree whacked their heads and shoulders like whips. They exited the limbs and thudded into the boulder.

Maurice's fingers wrapped around his neck. The other man's pack-enhanced strength would cut off Harry's breathing if he didn't do something quickly. He'd gathered from the earlier conversation that Maurice was a bloodhound, not a fighter. Definitely not a leader.

“Back off,” Harry commanded, asserting his alpha.

Maurice paused, his fingers loosening. “What? Hey, I know you.”

To hell with sportsmanship. Harry brought up his knee, slamming it into Maurice's crotch.

Maurice wheezed out a pained breath as he doubled over. Were the other shifters close? Harry prepared to stun the other man with an uppercut when Maurice dropped to his knees.

He couldn't kick a dog who was down, could he?

“Sorry, dude,” Maurice groaned. “Uncle.”

“Are you insane? A naked man attacks me for no reason, I've got a right to defend myself.” He decided to play dumb. “Who are you and why did you jump me?”

“You're Harry Smith.” Maurice hunched, practically groveling. He bobbed his head. “People are looking for you.”

It wasn't just the knee to the balls. From his posture, Harry had quelled Maurice with alpha vibes. Amazing. He'd always been able to influence other shifters, but not this much. Either he'd gotten stronger or Maurice was spineless.

“Are you one of the people looking for me?” Harry asked.

“Depends.” Maurice rubbed his jaw. Mud smeared in various places, he smelled as much of dirt as he did shifter. “What are you doing up here—camping? This is a shitty place to camp.”

If he had to ask why Harry was here, Maurice didn't realize he'd been inside the house. That didn't mean he and June were in the clear.

“Hell no, I'm not camping. I was out for a run.” He inspected the scrape on his side.

Surface wound, but it stung. “Are you part of Bianca's group?”

“No.” Maurice eyed him suspiciously. “How are you masking yourself? I can barely sense you and I'm standing in front of you.”

The other three housebreakers were probably booking it on four legs way ahead of poor, form-stuck Maurice. But once he caught up to Gavin, he'd point the way to Harry. June's talc spell wouldn't cover a trail this obvious, and if Maurice could sense him, the disguise must be wearing off.

He could try to knock Maurice out and tie him up, but bribing him might be easier. It was certainly more Harry's style. “Why, do you need tips on staying hidden?”

Maurice's face twisted. “Maybe.”

Harry approached him, and Maurice ducked his head. “Who do you need to hide from?”

“Nobody,” Maurice lied.

“Tell you what.” He put as much pressure on Maurice as he could without turning him into jelly. “I'll give you all the tips you want if you don't tell anyone you saw me.”

“Yeah, about that.” Maurice's hands protected his privates. “It's not safe here. You and your girlfriend should get out of the territory until…forever.”

Interesting—he was willing to warn Harry instead of being blindly obedient. “Why forever? Once the ceremony's over, I should be in the clear.”

“I dunno.” Maurice's dark eyes darted from side to side as he tried to avoid answering. “The new alpha doesn't like you.”

“The new alpha, huh.” Gavin wasn't alpha yet, and if Bianca had any sense, she'd find anybody else. The Roanokers couldn't possibly clear
all
the candidates from the territory. “Who'd Bianca pick?”

“Uh, well, uh, nobody yet. She still wants you.”

“Then there isn't a new alpha.” Harry deliberately kept Maurice on the defensive. It wasn't hard. He was pissed, and Maurice was easily cowed. “Are you going to tell Bianca where I am to get in good with her?”

“I won't see her before the ceremony. Won't matter by then. Just get your girl out of here, okay?”

Harry nearly growled. “Why her? Not that I'd leave her, but she's got nothing to do with this.”

“I shouldn't have said anything.” Maurice shuffled backward several steps. “You got cut on your side. My bad. Sorry.”

“I'll heal.” In the distance, the wail of the police sirens shut off. If he immobilized Maurice, Gavin might realize his whipping boy had fallen way, way behind and come looking. It wasn't like Harry was going to kill the guy.

So he risked a half-truth. “I'll level with you, packer. We're headed out of town. All I want is to be left alone.”

If Maurice had been in wolf form, his ears would have perked. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here.” Harry crossed his arms. Perhaps Gavin would give up the hunt if he thought Harry and June were gone. “When you see your friends, make sure they know I'm never coming back to this dump.”

“Dude, I didn't say I was going to tell anybody,” Maurice claimed, and Harry didn't smell dishonesty. Maybe he wasn't as subservient to Gavin as he appeared.

“I'll hold you to that.” Harry dismissed the smaller man. Maurice picked his way across the slope to the east until Harry lost sight of him.

The pine tree vibrated as June descended. “Can you help me down?”

Harry fought his way back to the trunk of the pine tree. “Stay up there.”

“The shifters are gone.”
Rustle, rustle.
Water spattered him. “I need to go back to the house.”

“We'd better not.” He was torn. They couldn't stay here, but showing up at the house was also risky. Half the town had police scanners. Everyone around, pack and coven included, would know everything that had gone down at Sandie's by morning—including any mention of Harry Smith and a blonde woman.

June halted her descent. “Why can't we go home?”

“The cops will be all over that place.”

“That's my point. I don't want them all over my place.”

“You mentioned that. Is this because you didn't run the dishwasher?” He'd waited for her to tidy the kitchen or her stillroom before they could proceed with their plans many a time.

“I can't guarantee a certain person on the police force will be there to cover up any oddities.” She started sliding off the branch, and Harry caught her. “They might come out of there thinking I'm a drug dealer or something. I have a lot of lab equipment. Herbs. Substances.”

She'd always been obsessive about leaving her house just so. Was it cleanliness—or secrecy? “You got anything illegal?”

June's forehead scrunched. “Maybe.”

“You're yanking my chain.”

“Medicinal purposes only.” Her lips quirked. “Imagine the scandal.”

“I'd rather not.” He peered down the mountain. All they needed, on top of everything else, was June to get tossed in jail for possession. “Is it out in the open?”

“It depends how thoroughly they search the house. If we get closer, you can hear what's going on.” She started down the slope, but he stopped her.

“If we show up, they still won't know where Sandie is,” he pointed out, his hand on her arm. “How are you going to account for that?”

She placed her palm over his hand, her fingers chilly. “I'm the granddaughter. I'll tell them she's on vacation.”

“They might not believe you.” He began chafing her cold hand. “None of us knew Sandie had a granddaughter.”

“You'd vouch for me.” June offered her other hand for warming. “Why would they think we were covering anything up?”

“Because it's their job. We need to stay under everybody's radar. What if they bring in a K-9 unit?”

“I've got it!” Her face brightened even in the darkness before dawn. “I'll call the station and tell them I'm okay.”

From his pocket, Harry withdrew his phone. “That won't work. One, there's no reception. Two, what if they want you to come to the station?”

“I do have the supplies to change myself into Sandie,” she said, patting her purse, “but then I couldn't renew the protections on the house. I haven't slept long enough.”

Harry slipped the phone into his pocket. “What's this about spellcasting? I thought your magic was gone since I ravished you.”

“Ravished me. I swan.” She lowered her gaze and shivered. “As you can see, I don't seem to be turning into a wolf.”

“I hate to say I told you so.” He drew her against him, sharing body heat.

“No, you don't.” June snuggled, her breasts cushy and her hands icy. “Mmm, you're so warm.”

“It's the wolf in me.” Her body was increasing his temperature by the second. “Since you didn't convert to the dark and furry side, does that mean we're free to—”

She placed a finger on his lips. “Hush. I can't be sure. We didn't do…everything.”

“Hmm.” Harry's libido perked at the idea of what he and June hadn't done yet. “We should remedy that.”

“Give it a rest, Romeo.” She ducked her head to hide a grin and inspected the scrape from his confrontation with Maurice. “This looks painful.”

“I'll shift it away.”

She traced his collarbone. “Did you know shifters are physically fit because they alter their bodies during the shifting process?”

“That's ridiculous,” he scoffed. It was common knowledge their fitness was enhanced by the caloric burn of wolf form. Shifters who rarely changed could grow as corpulent as a human, but once they shifted, their agility and strength returned.

Being a wolf was better than kickboxing and vitamins.

“Ridiculous, is it? So is the fact you can vanish and recreate your clothing if you're skilled enough,” June said dryly. “We suspect there are other possibilities you haven't discovered.”

Shifter philosophies about why they could do what they did varied. Some believed they'd evolved beyond humans while others believed they had alien DNA. A few believed their ability was a gift from a deity. Shifter scientists had confirmed many facts, like the lack of a lunar connection, but spent most of their time making sure fellow scientists didn't stumble across their species.

A minority of shifters believed what they could do was magic, and few believed in magic of other types. It would take away from their specialness.

Harry now knew differently.

“Are you saying I could alter my appearance?”

“It's a theory. We haven't been able to experiment.”

“You looking for a guinea pig?” He liked new things—yet another reason he was no packer.

“No.” But her gaze lost focus as she considered it, just like when she had an idea for pie.

“How about a compromise?” He started grooming her PJs, removing pine needles. “If you stay in the tree, I'll see what's going on at the house.” He could sneak down there, listen in and sneak back before Maurice caught up to Gavin.

“No, sir. In horror movies when the actors separate, neither of them make it.”

“I can outrun Michael Myers.” He stroked her back and enjoyed the supple feel of her body. He doubted Gavin would return to the house, and Bianca obviously considered it a dead end. It wasn't a bad place to stay—as long as it had a hide-a-wolf spell and no cops.

He'd still rather be in Vegas.

“Better not,” she said. “Shifting would probably negate whatever's left of your talc spell. Any wolves in the vicinity would sense you.”

If restricted to two feet, Harry wasn't as confident of his ability to eavesdrop without getting caught. “All right, we stay together.”

“Glad you agree.” She laced her fingers behind his neck. “We need to get you inside that house and the police out of it before the talc wears off.”

“I agree with that too.” If anyone did come sniffing around the house again, they'd conclude it was empty. Maurice hadn't seemed aware Harry and June had been inside. Why would anyone break in to her empty house a second time?

She rested her forehead against his chest, and the rest of her words sent puffs of air across his skin. “I apologize to you in advance. With the cops there, we'll have to use the back entrance and hide in the cellar. Darn it, I knew I should have maintained it better.”

“What are you talking about? Back entrance?”

June rubbed her eyes. “Remember when I said the root cellar was bigger than you realized? Coven members usually have secret passages in and out of their houses, and that's where mine is.”