A Place to Run (Trials of the Blood Book 1) Page 6

  A heavy weight plowed into my left side, knocking me to the ground.

  “Whoops,” Jonathan said, something preternatural grinning impishly through his eyes.

  I was not fooled. “Uh-huh,” I said as he peeled himself off me and stood up. The pack ran by as he extended a hand to me and pulled me to my feet. “How's the leg?”

  “Passable,” I shrugged. “I won’t be running a marathon in the morning, but it's holding weight.”

  “Glad to hear—” the football slammed into his gut, cutting him off. Dodging back the way he came, he ran off as the pack gave chase.

  I turned to follow, but my leg gave way. With a yelp, I crumpled to the ground.

  Ian jogged over first, his sapphire eyes filled with concern. “Too sharp of a turn without thinking about it and your leg just won't do it.”

  “So I noticed.” I grunted as he looped an arm under me and helped me to stand. “I'd better go sit down.”

  He nodded as I turned toward my chair. I heard him growl and looked over my shoulder to see he had the ball again. Ian took off at a sprint as I limped back to the lawn chair. I sat down heavily as everyone dog-piled him. From there the game fizzled out as everyone's stomachs seemed to growl in unison—unless it was all of them growling in unison. Either way, the game was called on account of food.

  It was remarkable timing, Kaylah had just smushed some of the burgers on the grill with the spatula, making the coals hiss and the fire jump, before she piled them onto a platter. She handed the spatula to Sheppard as she took the platter to the table with the buns. He then piled hot dogs and chicken onto two more platters, which Kaylah then took to the table along with a foil pan full of cut up potatoes.

  As the pack started to get their food, I maneuvered out of the chair and placed my beer down at one end of the picnic table. I intended to just wait till most of them were done to go over and grab mine, but Jonathan appeared next to me with two plates piled high with food.

  “I dunno what you like on your burgers or your dogs,” he said. “But I figured ketchup was at least a safe bet and maybe it’d save you the trip.”

  That was pretty freakin’ thoughtful of him. I smiled. “Thanks. Ketchup will work just fine.”

  “Least I could do.” He shrugged, taking a gulp of the beer he'd half-finished earlier.

  As everyone sat down, I scooped some potatoes onto an empty plate along with a couple of pieces of chicken and a hamburger.

  “Guess I wasn't so ready for the game after all,” I said.

  He smiled at me and took a bite of one of his hot dogs. “Still, not bad for someone who was lunch meat just four days ago.”

  I gave him a wry smile. “I suppose. People just don't heal this fast is all.” I took a bite of the chicken. It was juicy, tender, and full of flavor. My eyes fluttered closed in appreciation.

  “Right,” Jonathan nodded. “People don't, but werewolves do. Attacks are the way most of the wolves in the world got to be as they are. Made wolves are much more common than born ones.” He fell silent then, and I got the feeling he was somewhere else.

  The only real sounds then were that of the pack eating, cans and bottles of soda and beer thumping lightly to the table in between bites. But it wasn’t awkward at all. I was more comfortable around them than I had felt as a child with my own family.

  “So Lynn,” Daniel said around a bite of his food. “How did you get attacked anyway?”

  “It happened during my morning run on the nature reserve,” I answered, shoveling some potato into my mouth. I am such a meat-and-potatoes kind of girl.

  Matt rolled his eyes. Well, he rolled the one. I think the milky one rolled too, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “You do work for the newspaper sometimes,” he said. “You should have known better. It’s a good thing I was there to save you.”

  Chastity smiled at him adoringly, her eyes wide like a baby deer, as she rubbed his arm.

  “You’re a reporter?” Kaylah asked, concern in her voice.

  “Oh no,” I replied, waving a hand. “I’m just a copy-editor.” I took a sip of my beer. “After four days without giving them any kind of notice or updates, it’s likely they won’t be picking up my services anymore.”

  At least I wouldn’t have to deal with their holier-than-thou bullshit anymore. “Besides, I had gone hiking through those trails for years now and started running them last year. There aren’t actually any wolves in Colorado anymore, aside from the ones at that sanctuary outside of town, so I wasn’t actually concerned for my safety until the thing crashed into me.”

  “Well you’re safe now,” Sheppard said as he went for seconds.

  “But aren’t your parents worried about you?” Chastity asked.

  I shook my head. “Nope. My mother died a couple of years ago. Dad left for Europe after the funeral and pretty much never came back.” He certainly wasn't going to be worried sick at me not calling him.

  I guess Jonathan had come back from wherever his mind had wandered off to, because he took a bite from the hot dog in my hand as Sheppard sat back down.

  “Hey!” I shouted, laughing. “Get your own!”

  His face lit up. “There it is! You know, that sullen face you seem to get when you haven't figured out all this wolf stuff yet isn't nearly as good as your smile.”

  Something in my gut jumped. “And all the girls just line up around the corner for that stuff, don't they?”

  His laugh was rich and full. “Something like that.”

  Making a face at him, I shoved the last bite of hot dog into my mouth and washed it down with another swig of beer.

  He smiled at me then, and I returned the smile as I finished the chicken from my plate.

  It would be night soon. The pack filtered back into the house as the light faded. Chastity and Kaylah took the platters into the kitchen. The opening music and explosions of some action movie started in the living room.

  The distance returned to Jonathan’s eyes. “Jamie and I were attacked on a hunting trip with my dad,” he said. “We got a ten-point buck, and my father was cleaning it while Jamie and I went hiking to gather more firewood. That was when we were attacked. It got Jamie first, and I thought he was dead, so I just,” he spread his hands, “stopped feeling. Before I even understood what was happening, the wolf was dead with the head of my axe buried at the base of it’s skull. It was such a lucky hit, it was like an act of God. Sheppard had tracked that thing for two days. When he smelled the blood, he came running and found us all torn to shreds. My father didn’t survive the attack.” He drank the last of his beer, took a deep breath, and was back here again. “Which is to say that there isn't a single one of us who doesn't understand exactly what you're struggling with right now.”

  Something in the sky caught his attention and he looked up, squinting his eyes. “Hey, what's that?” He pointed skyward.

  As I looked up, I saw him reach to where my beer was and heard the thump of his empty bottle settling onto the table. The joke was on him, mine was empty too. With a smirk, I locked eyes with him. “Darn,” I said, my tone flat. “Looks like we'll both need a new one.” My heart pounded in my ears.

  Without a word, he stood and obliged, digging two more beers out of the coolers under the food table. As he sat back down, I slowly let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding.

  My plate was empty, and only a couple of potatoes remained on the plates Jonathan had brought over. Wow. “I don’t know how I’m going to get used to eating like this.”

  He nodded. “We do tend to eat a lot, but we don’t have to. I’ve heard we can go up to two weeks without food if we need to. It’s probably not comfortable, though.” He smirked. “And you don’t really have to worry about packing on extra pounds. Our metabolism just doesn’t work the same way a human’s does.” Color rose in his cheeks. “So your figure will likely stay as great as it is now.”

  My gut did that squirmy jump thing again and I looked away, sure I was blushing, and drained half
my beer.

  “I used to dream at night about being a wolf sometimes.” I don't know why I said that. It was true, of course. I'd been having those dreams since sometime back in high school. But I don't know why I told him.

  “Hm? Was it like this?”

  I rolled my eyes at myself and shook my head. “You're just asking because I said something. It's silly.”

  “No really,” he said, touching my knee with his warm hand. “Tell me.”

  “Not quite like this.” I looked at him. “I won't really know, I guess, until the full moon. But I've dreamt of changing, of struggling with it, and the release of just letting go.”

  I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath of the night air. Something tugged at my gut in a way that hunger hadn't. A finger traced the scar on my face and my eyes snapped open. I didn’t flinch away this time.

  Smiling, Jonathan spoke in conspiratorial tones, “Y'know, Dreamer, I think your wolf has been a part of you for longer than you think.”

  SIX

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, everyone piled into cars an headed out to a local diner at Sheppard's behest. The place was full of the smells of breakfast. Park rangers in full uniform sat with their morning coffee and newspaper, a few groggy businessmen hurriedly shoveled eggs and bacon down, and a lone artist sketched on a pad of paper in a corner booth.

  “Mornin' Shep,” the hostess said. She was easily past retirement age, with shrewd eyes and grey-white hair. She had a pencil tucked behind her ear and the sleeves of her crisp white shirt were rolled up to the elbows. “Give us a few and we'll have your corner ready. Y’all’re early today.”

  Sheppard smiled at her. “Thanks Dolores.”

  A few moments later, we were ushered to a private dining area. Three wooden tables were pushed together in the far corner with a red checkered tablecloth thrown over the whole thing to give enough room for everyone to have a place at the same table. Honey pots and little pitchers of milk were stationed at intervals on the table and enough places were set with glasses of water for all, plus a couple of extras.

  “I'll get the steaks on and be right back with your eggs,” Dolores said, pouring coffee into everyone's mugs as we took our seats. She eyed me. “Hey there newcomer,” she said, an easy friendliness in her voice. “How’d you like your steak, hun?”

  I was never the breakfast type. “Just the coffee and some toast for me please,” I demurred. They were having steak for breakfast? Crazy—but my stomach growled at the thought.

  Dolores clicked her tongue and exchanged a look with Sheppard. She nodded at me. “Medium-rare—got it.”

  I opened my mouth to object, but she hurried off to help the customers who had just stepped through the door. I looked to Sheppard. “I thought you said the world wasn't ready for...” I lowered my voice to a whisper and nodded my head in the direction Dolores went. “You know.”

  He laughed as he poured some honey into his coffee. “Dolores thinks I run some sort of halfway house that takes in the strays of society and gets them all set up to rejoin the normal world.”

  Honey in coffee? I'd never heard of such a thing.

  “She's not far from the truth of it really,” Jonathan said as I poured a bit of honey into my coffee as well.

  I took a sip, savoring the flavor. It was surprisingly good. I added a bit more honey until it was to my liking, and realized I liked it better than sugar.

  “I've been coming here for years.” Sheppard smiled. “I just haven't bothered to correct her.” He shrugged. “No need to.”

  “Besides,” Kaylah said. “The food here is jus’ delish. They got themselves a new chef last year, an’ he really knows how to fix a steak.”

  Dolores appeared with plates full of scrambled eggs on a tray. Serving everyone she said, “I'll be back in just a moment with your steaks, don't you worry.”

  “You're the best, Dolores,” Sheppard said.

  “And don't you go forgettin' it, neither,” she replied, winking at him.

  A few moments later, Dolores was back with plates of steaks for everyone, serving Sheppard first and then going around the table. “Now I'll leave you folks alone to chat,” she said, refilling everyone's coffee mug. “One of you’uns come grab me when you're ready for the check. And take your time y’all, there's no hurry.”

  When she was gone, Sheppard looked to Matt. “Tell the pack what you found tracking the wolf that attacked Lynn.”

  Matt finished a bite of steak. “Nothing good, of course.There’s a cave on the northwest corner of the reserve with four crazed werewolves in cages. I don’t know what put them there or who’s holding them.” He gulped down some coffee. “But inside, it looks like the damn bastards slaughtered one of us and used the blood for paint. It made it impossible for me to investigate further. There could be almost anything going on there.”

  “We’ll have to get the wolves out first.” Sheppard finished his eggs. “They may not actually be crazed, just unable to control themselves in that cave thanks to the blood.”

  I was horrified, and something in me affirmed that those wolves in the cages could not just be left there. “Why would the blood on the walls make things harder?”

  Kaylah reached over and put a hand on my knee. “Ain't no concentrating going on when the bloodlust hits.”

  “We are protectors, Lynn,” Sheppard explained. “Down to the core of who we are. There is no denying it. To know that you are walking into a place where your brethren were slaughtered means the chances of you keeping your head and acting rationally are abysmally slim.”

  “I could smell humans too,” Matt said, making a face. “Which means there’s a chance that the wolves are being fed human flesh.”

  Sheppard growled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. My stomach turned and I dropped my fork.

  Kaylah pressed a glass of water into my hand. “Drink, hun. Stay with us.” I took a breath and gulped down some of the icy cold liquid.

  Jonathan squeezed my hand. I hadn't even realized he was holding it. His woodsy scent cut through my nausea.

  “Lean on your wolf, Dreamer,” he breathed into my ear. “She knows what to do.”

  Closing my eyes, I focused on my breathing. In and out. In and out.

  “I could hear a generator running,” Matt said. “And I’m pretty sure there was a work lamp, so there’s definitely power running through the cave.”

  “What could—or would—hold crazed werewolves captive?” Jamie’s eyes were wide. “Why would anyone want to?”

  Something thumped against the table. Startled, I opened my eyes. Sheppard had a white-knuckled fist resting on the table. He must have hit it in frustration.

  “Vampires,” he said, the word more growl than anything. “They’re searching for their cure.”

  “How can you be sure?” Chastity asked around a bite of steak.

  “It’s the only thing that makes any sense,” Sheppard answered. “They think werewolves can bridge the gap. And since crazed ones are so violent by nature, they must figure they’re one of any number of missing links.”

  Matt clenched his fist so hard it bent the fork over in his hand. I had read about the tension in a room being so thick you could cut it with a knife. I finally understood that turn of phrase, but what sort of cure would the vampires be after?

  “That explains the rise in the vamp numbers here lately,” Ian said. “They need expendable test subjects.”

  “Test subjects? What sort of cure are they looking for?” I tried not to think about the wolf crunching into my wrist. If it weren’t for Matt, I would have been in that wolf's belly. I took another gulp of ice water.

  “To explain that,” Sheppard said before gulping down some of his coffee. “I'm going to have to go way back to how they first came about.” He sighed and looked around the table, his eyes settling on me. “It's the story of how we came to be as well. It reaches all the way back to when Jesus himself hung on the cross.”

  My eyebrows shot up. Werewolves stemmed from
biblical times? That definitely wasn’t in any book I read.

  “It is told in the Bible and other religious texts that Jesus cried out to God, asking why He had forsaken him.” Sheppard ran a hand through his sandy blond hair. “Some scholars say that this is him referencing an earlier psalm, but the truth of it is that it was in his moment of doubt that he was speared by the Romans, who had taken up the dark sport of poking at him while he hung.”

  How awful. I looked around the table as I took another sip of my coffee. The pack was still and quiet, enraptured by Sheppard’s story.

  “A few drops of blood landed on the lips of one of the soldiers who speared him. That soldier licked his lips and was forever changed.” His smile was grim. “He became a sharp-toothed monster of the night, with talons that could easily rip through flesh. His bite alone was enough to turn a human into a demon like him.”

  Vampires were actual demons? That had to be a figure of speech. I narrowed my eyes as I shoveled a bite of eggs into my mouth.

  “Entire villages were laid to waste in the nights that followed. The demons roamed the night, killing everything in their path: men, women, children, livestock—if it bled, it died.” He took a bite of his steak. “Worse, many stood up from their deaths to join the ranks of the demons. What little there was of the church at the time was frantic. They knew they must find a way to put a stop to these creatures and protect humanity.”

  Well that certainly makes sense. The deadliest weapon known to man at that time was simply a bow and arrow. And if vampires were as dangerous as the pack seemed to think, or even half as dangerous as any of my novels indicated, an arrow was unlikely to even slow them down.

  Sheppard took another sip of his coffee. “So, they took the cross, the nails, and the crown of thorns and used what blood they could pull from them to create something that could fight back. Thus, the wolves were given life.” He spread his hands wide. “They were faster than their human counterparts, as strong as the demons, and—unlike their prey—able to move about in the daylight.”