Hour of the Lion

Chapter Eleven

The next afternoon, Thorson ignored the tinkling doorbell as a customer entered the store. He scowled at the paperwork on the desk. By Herne’s Holy Antlers, he’d added the numbers three times and gotten different sums each time. If he came up with a fourth sum, he was going to-

“Heads-up, dude.” A throaty contralto. A spicy scent. The little, book-loving barmaid.

Thorson spun his chair around. Vicki waved a travel cup in the air and offered it.

“What’s that?”

“Coffee,” she said. “I’ve had yours; mine’s better.”

He rose to his feet, vaguely disgusted with his manners that he hadn’t done so at once. What in Herne’s name was wrong with him these days? “Fine, give it here.”

She handed it over. Steam from the tiny drinking hole teased his senses with the rich fragrance of coffee. It definitely didn’t smell like his normal bitter brew. He took a sip and felt every taste bud in his mouth start to sing in praise. Another sip and he eyed her over the top of the cup. “You trying to bribe me for some reason?”

Her low laugh reminded him of Lachlan, and his lips pulled into an unaccustomed smile.

“No bribe. It’s a goodbye present.” She turned to look at the long shelves of books. “I’m going to miss this place…might even miss you a little.”

His legs seemed to weaken-old joints, undoubtedly. He dropped into his chair. “Are you leaving us, girl?”

She leaned on the counter, resting her weight on her arms-maybe her legs were shaky too. “My knee is healed, so I’m going back to the job I had before. It’s overseas, and I travel light.”

He drank his coffee and studied her without speaking. If she’d been a shifter, he’d have put money on Calum and Alec snagging her for a lifemate. Even for a human, she was all right.

Her eyes met his steadily in the way he’d come to respect. No back-down in the girl. Plain-spoken. He’d have called her cold if he hadn’t watched her with Jamie. Or seen her trying not to cry when she told him about Lachlan. “I might miss you a little too,” he managed.

Her lips curled into a half-grin. “Well, let’s not get all mushy here.” She bent over and with a grunt of effort set a…thing onto the counter.

“What the-what is that?”

“This is your goodbye present. It’s a coffee-maker and it grinds the beans too. The cup of coffee was just to show you what you’re missing.”

“You expect me to use that?”

She shoved the behemoth toward him. “Yeah. Listen, Joe, in the cities, every corner has a Starbucks. Since there’s nothing like that in Cold Creek, I figure people might come in here on these freeze-your-ass-off days-like today-just to have a decent cup of coffee.”

Not a bad notion, really, but… He frowned at the machine. “And they’d want me to make them fancy-pants latte or mocha or some such?”

“Naw. The mountains don’t have helpless city folks. Just put out good coffee and have extras like chocolate syrup and whipped cream and all that sitting on the table. Let’em make their own.”

He could see it. Maybe change the fireplace chairs to comfortable ones. Have this contraption over there. People would straggle in all day long. His store wouldn’t be so lonely. That was what she’d planned, wasn’t it? “Pretty sneaky, girl.”

Looking a little lost for such a spirited female, she touched his hand. “I think Lachlan hoped I’d stay. He said…’Tell Grandpa I gifted you…and you’re my gift’. Kinda like he entrusted you to me or something. I have to go, so I thought this…” She moved her shoulders, gave him a wavery smile, and hurried out into the cold and rain.

As he stared after her, silence closed around him. He’d thought of Lachlan as a gift from the Mother. But then the boy had died. Now apparently the gods were taking this gift also.

Damn but it sucked saying goodbye to people, and maybe she’d grown old, because it seemed much harder this time around. Vic figured she hadn’t hurt this much since she’d lost her buddy, Shanna, in Afghanistan.

And I don’t even like that old man.

Icy fingers of rain drizzled down her face bringing back the chill feel of Shanna’s hand as her blood drained into the sand. Vic closed her eyes to force the memory and the pain away. That was then; this was now. Move on.

Always moving on. Would she ever stop?

She crossed the street and looked into the grocery store. Maybe she should pick up some diet Cokes for the road. The bright lighting made it a cheerful oasis under the gray sky. As Al waited, Mrs. Neilson piled the counter with canned dog food for her poodle, so old and fat it could hardly walk. Vic tried to smile. Failed. Damn, she’d miss this place.

Forget going in the grocery. Go back to the house. Finish packing. Leave. There, she had a plan.

Behind Vic, the door opened, and Mrs. Neilson instructed Al, “And don’t forget to order the food for senior dogs next time.”

Vic looked over her shoulder. The stout woman patted her thick wool coat closer like a chilled bird ruffling her feathers. Farther down the sidewalk, a man turned abruptly to look at the hotel window.

The hotel didn’t have a display. What kind of idiot stood in the rain, staring at nothing?

The muscles in Vic’s shoulders tightened. A person’s subconscious-or monkey brain-noticed the oddest details. Something out of place, behavior that didn’t make sense. Too many people where there should only be a few. She resumed walking, brushed straggling wet hair away from her face, and spotted two men across the street, paralleling her course.

She faked a stumble and knelt to retie her shoe so she could scope out her six. Behind her was the hotel window loiterer and an additional man. All wore dark coats with scarves or pulled-up collars, rendering them anonymous in the steady rain.

They walked with none of the animal grace displayed by Calum or Alec-or even Thorson. So they probably weren’t shifters. Well good. She’d rather fight humans than werecritters any day of the week. As adrenaline upped her pulse and tightened her muscles, she rose and continued down the sidewalk. They followed.

Yep, she was being hunted, pretty aggressively too. Wasn’t life just full of surprises? Were they buddies of that asshole Swane? Seemed logical. How the hell had they found her?

Think about that later. If she continued going straight, she’d leave the downtown area, and in this weather, the residential streets would be pretty empty. Undoubtedly the men’s plan. Need to turn around.

She stopped. After pretending to rummage through her pockets and not finding what she wanted, she retraced her path. Past Angie’s Diner, the hotel, Baty’s Grocery. The one guy remaining on that side saw her coming and ducked into the store. Vic crossed the street and felt the net of men contract. They planned to grab her in the middle of town? Damn.

She was moving fast as she went into the bookstore.

Thorson looked up. “Forgot someth-?”

“Where’s your back exit?”

His brows lifted. “Rear of the storeroom.” He pointed to a door behind the counter.

“Stay out of this,” she snapped, darting behind the counter and through the door.

Darkness. She tripped over something. Dammit. She fumbled for the penlight on her key ring. The tiny beam showed her a huge room filled with boxes and a winding path to the exit.

She’d just reached the exit when shouts broke out in the store. A yell of pain. A growl. Oh, fuck, why had she picked Thorson’s place instead of somewhere else? That junk-yard dog wouldn’t sit quietly while thugs tried to follow her. She yanked the knife from her calf sheath and dashed back across the storeroom.

The knob was already turning, so she waited until the door opened a crack, and then gave it a hard kick. The heavy oak slammed into the guy’s face with a thud she felt in her bones.

He dropped like a rock, a tranq gun clattering to the floor. One down.

She whipped through, jumped over the body, then paused to map out the situation. One bastard just entering. One had closed on Thorson, and she grinned. Joe would take the poor sucker apart.

The third rushed her, saving her time. She sidestepped, then kicked him and took his knee out. As he fell, she used his greasy hair to whack his head against the counter and winced as his skull fractured. Two down. Nice of Thorson to use solid oak for his door and counters. She glanced at him.

His opponent had pulled a knife. Thorson knocked aside his arm, plucked the blade from his hand, and jammed it into his chest. The man crumbled into a heap. A gleeful grin appeared on the old man’s face, then the sharp retort of a pistol split the air, and Thorson staggered backward against his desk. The splattering blood turned his paperwork a garish red.

No! Vic spun around. The gunman stood just inside the door. With a snarl, she flung her knife.

With a choking sound, he dropped his weapon to grab frantically at the blade in his throat. Blood sprayed across the wooden floor as he went down to his knees. Spasming, he fell forward.

“You play rough, little female.” Thorson was standing, one hand pressed to his shoulder. Blood streamed between his fingers.

“Jesus, I thought he’d killed you!” Giddy relief soared through Vic, and she grabbed his grizzled head to plant a kiss. One second of joy, then she dropped her jacket on the floor to strip off her T-shirt.

Wadding it up, she shoved the makeshift bandage against the bullet hole. “Does nine-one-one work here? Are you allowed to go to the hospital?”

“Yes and I am.” Thorson’s knees buckled, and he dropped into his chair.

“Stay,” she ordered like he was a dog, which was just wrong. She pulled her jacket on over her bra before grabbing the desk phone. As she punched buttons, she watched the door. If she’d have planned this, she’d have someone designated as a backup. More bad guys might be coming.

“What is the nature of your emergency?” came the voice.

“A robbery at the bookstore in Cold Creek. The owner got shot.”

The operator gasped-were they allowed to do that?-and then returned to her monotone, “I’m sending the police and ambulance. Please stay on the line until they arrive.”

Near the storeroom, the man she’d hit with the door groaned and tried to roll over. She dropped the phone long enough to walk over and slam his head against the floor.

A grin appeared on Joe’s face, pushing aside the lines of pain. “You were pulling your punches during our bar fight. I knew it.”

How could a guy remind her of her father, a drill sergeant, and her teammates all in one? Ignoring the ache in her chest, she scowled and snapped, “Just shut up and keep pressure on that wound.”

When a siren wailed its approach, she almost cheered. The cavalry had arrived.

A second later, the young deputy burst into the store and stopped dead at the carnage.

With adrenaline still pumping in her veins, and relief threatening to choke her up, she took it out on him. “You fucking idiot! I told nine-one-one the owner was shot. Have you ever heard of checking things out first?”

In the corner of her eye, she saw Alec doing just that, standing to one side, looking through the window. He entered silently and gently pushed his deputy aside before kicking the pistol away from the dead guy. His dark green eyes flickered over Vic and the downed men. When he looked at Thorson, his mouth tightened. “You’re getting’ slow, Joe. Is it bad?”

“Nah, missed the good stuff.” Thorson moved his shoulder and grimaced. “Hurts less than a clawing.”

“Oh, sure it does.” Alec looked around again, his face impassive, so coldly competent that Vic wanted to fling herself into his arms, and how wrong was that?

His gaze returned to Thorson. “What’re they after? They don’t have the scent of druggies.”

Thorson tilted his head. “Her.”

She’d already begun edging toward the storeroom door when Alec’s eyes pinned her to the spot. “Talk to me, Vixen.”

Looking out the window past him, she saw a dark car crawl down the street. One man. The backup. She retreated another step. “I need to get out of here.”

Alec turned, spotted the car.

An ambulance passed it and screeched to a stop with two wheels on the sidewalk. Joe would be okay. Thank you, God.

Frowning at her, Thorson jerked his head at the back. “Git.”

“Jenkins, take Thorson outside. I’ll lock the store behind you,” Alec ordered and elaborated, “If they ask, say a guy attacked Thorson, trying to get money, and escaped as you arrived.” He flashed a grin. “No need to mention the dead bodies or the short, skinny female.”

“Got it.” The deputy nodded, raised his eyebrows at Vic. “Thanks for the advice on reconnoitering. Now get out of here, short, skinny female.”

They seemed awfully blasé about dead people.

With a sigh, she pulled the body blocking the storeroom away, then opened the door.

Alec stepped up behind her, tucking his fingers under her belt to halt her. “I’ll bring the car around to the park. Wait for me by the big oak.” He handed over her knife, then strolled out the front.

Indecision gnawed at her as she hurried through the back door. Make for the trees or let him help? Everything in her said go it alone. Teammates only got in the way or got hurt. If anything should happen to Alec… The thought stole her breath.

But as she crossed the park, the tall, wet grass flattened beneath her feet, leaving an indelible trail. They’d know exactly where she went. But she could manage. She’d almost reached the tree line when she spotted the big oak.

Guilt tightened her jaw. However Swane had found her, she’d targeted this town for him. Even worse, if she left a trail to the forest, his men would comb the mountain and might run into unprepared shifters.

Dammit. She’d have to do this the hard way-and accept help. Forcing herself to turn, she walked over to the oak and watched Alec’s car slide around the corner and up to her.

Less than an hour later, Alec stood in the tunnel entrance with his brother and Vicki. He frowned. The rain had turned to sleet. Up higher, it would be snowing heavily, and there wasn’t much daylight left.

Vicki shook her head. “I still think I should just let them trail me out of town.”

“No,” Calum said flatly. He turned to Alec, “I’ll join you in a couple of days. Will you be all right?”

In other words, could he manage hiking with a human up the mountain rather than running in cat form? Alec grinned and patted Vicki on the head. “We’ll be fine. She’s a tad on the short side, but she’s got heart.”

Her golden-brown eyes shot sparks, and he choked on a laugh. If she’d been a werecat, he’d be drawing back a mangled hand about now. After buttoning his heavy coat, he shouldered the pack of emergency supplies and clapped Calum on the shoulder. “Check on Thorson before you come up, would you? He was pretty hard hit.”

“Aye.” Calum ran a finger down Vicki’s cheek and murmured, “Little human, you’ve shortened my life by several years.” He gave Alec a brief smile. “Be safe, you two,” he said and headed up the steps.

As if mesmerized, Vicki stared after him, and Alec grinned. His brother had that effect on females. “Let’s go, Vixen. This isn’t an easy climb.”

She turned and looked at the mountain, her big eyes filling with misery. “I brought this mess on you all.”

“True. Of course, Lachlan shouldn’t have let himself be caught. Or he shouldn’t have run away in the first place. And Joe should have been more understanding so he wouldn’t have run away, and-”

“Okay, okay, I get the point.” She hefted her pack and followed him as he took the most direct path upward. “Where is this cabin anyway?”

He pointed toward the mountaintop. “Straight up there.”

“Oh, God,” she said resignedly. “Mountain climbing in a blizzard at night. You cat-people sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

“What do you mean, you lost her?” Vidal scowled and pressed the cell phone closer to his ear.

“Four of my men walked into that bookstore. None came out. Gotta figure they’re dead.” Swane’s cold voice could barely be heard through the static. “The old fart-the owner of the store-went to the hospital. Cops are saying a man tried to rob the bookstore and escaped after shooting the owner. No mention of Morgan or anyone else. Definitely a cover up.”

Incompetent bastards. Vidal swore under his breath. “Go on.”

“I asked around quietly, and she works at the town tavern, only she’s using the name Waverly.”

“Check out the bar,” Vidal agreed. “Is she at her place?”

“No. Her house is empty, but her car is still parked there. She’s not at the tavern either.”

Worse and worse. Morgan would be a fool to return to the town. And they’d alerted the werecreatures.

However, their target area was obviously Cold Creek. Dammit. “How could one old man and a woman kill off four men?” Bungling fuckups. Vidal kicked his wastebasket across the room and halted, shocked at his own actions. He never lost control. Ever.

“I’m not sure,” Swane said. “But I got an idea. I want to grab someone who can tell us about the town. Not a creature-just a person who’d know what’s going on. About the shifters…and their families.”

Vidal sat down in his chair. Carefully. “What good would that do?”

“Leverage, boss.” Swane’s laugh made Vidal’s skin crawl. “Beastie-boy sure as fuck would’ve talked if I’d been skinning pieces off his sister.”

“Do it.”

Fuckin’ A. Vic was freezing. She hadn’t been this cold since a mission in the mountains of Afghanistan. She shivered so hard her bones hurt. But that was good. When a person stopped shivering, death was right behind.

And she knew some of the shivering was from what she’d done. She’d killed. The feeling of shattering bone, the sound of the man choking on his own blood, the blank look of death-she swallowed as nausea rose again. Wiped the tears from her face…again.

The snow increased the higher they went, sometimes whipping into her face like sand and sometimes falling straight down, piling up so she could no longer see the tree roots and obstacles underneath. She had the bruises to show for it, having flattened her length out on the trail a few times. Grace incarnate, that’s me.

The sun was gone, the moon wasn’t up, and even if it was, nothing would penetrate the dark clouds overhead. Her wimpy-ass penlight had died an hour ago.

Why the hell am I here? She should have stayed in Cold Creek, taken out the backup people, then found Swane and the business-guy and wiped them out. Then-maybe-she wouldn’t feel so guilty. Her mouth tightened as she remembered Thorson’s wound, the blood on the desk, his pain. God, so stupid. Why had she ever tried to escape through his store?

Too late to do anything now. The bad guys would be long gone. She’d have to wait for Wells to give her the information on Swane she needed-and then, no matter what, she’d finish this.

Wells. Oh fuck. She was due in Washington D.C. She felt like hitting her head against a tree. Could her life get any more screwed up?

“We’re almost there.” Alec’s voice reached her.

Oh, sure, and he’d been saying that for over an hour. That fine body of his had moved steadily up the mountain-never faltering, never tripping, never falling. If she’d had the energy, she would have planted a boot right where the sun don’t shine.

“Ah. There we go,” he said.

Concentrating on the lousy footing, she ran into his stationary figure. “Oomph.”

“Sorry.” He pointed to something undistinguishable in the darkness. “We’re here.”

She squinted. Nothing. “How can you tell?”

“Cat eyes, baby, cat eyes.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he urged her across a small clearing to a building.

“There is a god,” she breathed, and Alec chuckled.

“Hold on a minute.” He shoved open the door and went in. A lantern flickered alight.

Taking that as an invite, she pulled the door shut behind her. There was no heat, but the escape from the wind made the place seem almost warm. Teeth chattering, she looked around. An authentic, one-room cabin with a fireplace on the far wall, wood and kindling next to it. A rough-hewn table and stump chairs on the left. Pots and pans hung from nails, and dishes were stacked on a rustic shelf. Wooden bins were built into each wall.

Alec set the lantern on the table and started building a fire. He nodded at the bin. “There’s blankets and some sleeping pads in the box. Why don’t you haul them out? Put them here in front of the fireplace.”

Wool blankets, foam pads, quilts. By the time she’d piled them in the center of the room, the fire blazed with enough heat to make her numbed fingers tingle.

Alec set a snow-filled pot on the grill, then rummaged through a metal-lined bin filled with canned foods and freeze-dried meals. A few minutes later, they had mugs of hot chocolate.

“Nice place,” Vicki murmured, risking her lips to sip the scalding chocolate. She swallowed and closed her eyes to savor the sensation of heat bursting inside her.

Alec toasted her with his mug and a smile. “We keep it stocked for emergencies like this, and for shifters who get hurt and can’t make it back to town.”

He added another log to the fire and settled onto the pile of blankets. “Whoever uses the place reports to Calum, and he sends up whatever is needed to restock it.”

“Carry supplies up that mountain?”

“That’s why Herne invented teenagers.”

She snorted a laugh and settled herself in the other blanket pile. The shivers had lessened, and she gazed sleepily around the room. “No windows?”

He shook his head. “Prevents any telltale glow at night. There’s enough trees overhead to disperse most of the smoke, and as you saw, getting here isn’t for the faint of heart.”

“No shit.” Two narrow ledges, hopping from stone to stone across creeks. “Were you following a path?”

“A variety of animal trails. We never use the same one twice, and if one starts looking too obvious, it’s abandoned for a season or two.”

“How can you tell if someone’s used a trail recently?”

He tapped his nose. “People leave a scent.”

“Even in person form, you have cat eyes and noses, huh?” She frowned remembering Jamie tripping over a bottle in the dark parking lot. “Jamie doesn’t see well at night.”

“Not yet. After her first trawsfur, she will. And as she spends time in animal form, the more she’ll acquire animal senses.” He grinned. “There are theories about why. Personally, I think we get used to seeing at night and using our noses, and our human bodies adjust.”

“Huh.” Her eyes drooped, and she jerked her head up as she realized she was nodding.

Alec took the cup from her hand. “Go ahead and sleep. You’re safe now, Vixen.”

Safe? The man was out of touch with reality. The world held no safety. As her eyes closed, she felt a blanket being tucked around her.