Deceived By the Others (20 page)

Chapter 19

We weren’t sure where to start looking. After a bit of back and forth on it, Hawk snapped his fingers at the tall, skinny geek. Doc’s tongue flickered out, tasting the air. He pointed and took off, the others hurrying after him, not waiting to see if I was following.

“What are you, exactly?” I asked once I caught up, trailing after the unexpectedly spry trio.

“Me? Were-python,” replied Doc, his long strides eating up the ground.

That took me aback. I’d never heard of Werereptiles. Hawk glanced at me and, at my look of shock, gave me a wry grin. “I’m a Were-crow. Howard’s a Were-bear, like the rest of the Cassidy family. We all suffered the same problems in high school, so we stuck together and made our own pack—the Nightstrikers—once we got sick of facing Chaz and his cronies on our own.”

“I see,” I said, not entirely sure I did. Doc was ignoring us while intently tasting the air every few seconds, once in a while shifting directions, leading us on this strange chase. “How’d you guys meet?”

“Computer club,” answered Spike.

That explained a lot.

We didn’t say anything else for a while, following the invisible trail that Doc had picked up. Strangely, none of the Sunstrikers were around the cabins. Even the kids, usually heard if not seen, were nowhere in evidence. The whole place seemed deserted.

Doc paused and turned to focus on one of the cabins, then stopped in his tracks, furrows appearing between his brows. He scratched the back of his neck, his face reddening. The rest of us gave him questioning looks, but all he did was point vaguely at the entrance. The curtains were drawn, and it didn’t look like anybody was there.

“What’s wrong?” asked Hawk, brandishing his bow as his gaze darted over the shadows between the trees. Spike lifted his head, taking a whiff of whatever Doc had been scenting. His face also reddened, and he shot a look at Hawk.

“Eugene, I think we’ve got a situation here.”

“What? What is it?” I demanded. Paused. “Eugene?”

“Yeah,” said Hawk, grimacing. “That’s my real name. Just call me Hawk, okay?”

I shook my head and turned back to Spike. “What’s the problem?”

Spike didn’t look at me, gesturing vaguely at the cabin as the Were-python had. Doc wasn’t any help either; he’d backpedalled, scrubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. Hawk kept looking around for a threat, his bow drawn, clearly frustrated and unnerved at the lack of answers from his friends.

Figuring we weren’t going to solve anything by waiting around, I rolled my eyes, threw my hands up, and stalked to the door. It opened easily under my touch.

At first, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking at. There were clothes everywhere, strewn over furniture and the floor, some tangled in the bedding. On the bed, though, that’s the thing that my brain didn’t want to process right away.

The tangle of arms and legs wasn’t the issue. Nor the obvious scents in the air, strong enough that my weak human senses could pick them up. Even the sound effects which, given the activity taking place, were not all that surprising.

It was the tattoo. The swirling tattoo of a Chinese dragon coiling down the bare right ass-cheek and across the hip of the man, clearly visible considering the position he’d taken over the woman sprawled beneath him on the bed.

Chaz’s tattoo.

“What the blue flying
fuck?!
” I hollered, stalking forward.

The woman screamed, and Chaz twisted around, then promptly scrambled back on the bed, disengaging himself. He grabbed for the nearest pillow, hurriedly covering his groin. “Shia, I—”

“What the
fuck?!
” I cried again, stopping in my tracks as Kimberly drew herself up, yanking the covers over her breasts.

“Shia, please—”

“What the fuck is this? What in the fucking
hell
is this, Chaz?”

“What the hell do you think it is?” Kimberly screeched, throwing one of the pillows at me. “Get out!”

I turned on her, and she shrank back at the rage twisting my face into a hateful scowl. It didn’t take me long to turn that bottomless hatred back on Chaz. He had the gall to gesture at me to calm down with one hand, even while he used the other to conceal his privates.

“Shia, please, let me explain—”

“You fucking bastard,” I cried, the first prick of tears stinging their way in a hot trail down my cheeks. I sensed the Nightstrikers creeping up behind me, their frames shadowing the doorway. Chaz barely paid them a glance; his attention was focused entirely on me. “You cheating, lying son of a bitch. How could you do this to me?”

“What the hell did you expect?” Kimberly growled, scooting back against the headboard. “You don’t put out; you leave him hanging—you didn’t leave him with a lot of options.”

“Shut up!” Chaz and I both shouted at her at once. She complied, folding her arms across her chest and sullenly glaring at me.

Chaz hastily filled the crackling silence. “Shia, I’m sorry. I know this looks bad, but it’s not what you think! I still love you—”

“The hell you do!” I exploded, grabbing the nearest item to hand—a mug on the table—and hurling it at him, sending the coffee inside spilling over the sheets. He barely managed to deflect it, the porcelain shattering as it hit the floor. “You don’t fuck around on the side when you love someone, you fucking asshole!”

I reached for the next closest throwable object, one of his sneakers, and this time managed to score his temple. “Stop!” he bellowed, batting at everything I threw at him in my haze of fury. “For God’s sake, you don’t understand! I can’t function without a little relief now and then—”

My scream of fury had him cowering back. The laughter of the Nightstrikers only further spurred my rage into new heights of aggression. I was soon across the room, slapping him with all my might, leaving a reddened imprint across his perfectly sculpted cheek.

His eyes flashed yellow as he snarled, and I gasped when he reached out lightning quick to wrap his fingers around my wrists, halting my furious tirade.

“Shia, stop! Listen to me!”

I tugged to free myself, but he wouldn’t loosen his hold. As soon as I figured out I wasn’t going anywhere, I glared into his eyes, uncaring if the beast below the surface saw it as a challenge or not.

“Listen. Just listen! I can’t go without sex or violence for too long, Shia. It’s not the way I’m wired. I
have
to have an outlet. You have no idea how hard it is to fight those instincts. I managed for a little while, but when I saw you with Royce—”

“Don’t you dare bring him into this, you—”

“Shut
up!
” he roared. “I never once complained. I didn’t say a damned thing when you let that leech touch you. You have no right to judge me!”

I gasped in outrage, pulling at his grip again. This time he let me go, and I retreated several steps back toward the door. “Is that what you think of me? You think I
slept
with him?”

“Didn’t you?” he snarled, withdrawing to put the pillow over himself again. “You were mooning over him for days. Hell, he might have ordered you to do it. I couldn’t have stopped him if he did. I didn’t hold it against you, and I know you didn’t want to sign a contract with me, not after what happened with the leeches. I didn’t press you because I didn’t know how long it would take for you to get over it and come back to me. To come to your senses. To want to be part of the pack. Did you think I’d sit back and wait forever?”

At first, I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t.

Rage was too kind a word for what I felt in that instant.

Beyond caring, beyond speech, I turned around to face the Nightstrikers. Hawk had a look that could best be described as rapture plastered on his face as he watched our little drama play out. With no thought on the matter, I grabbed one of the arrows out of his hand and twisted around to hurl it at Chaz.

He jerked away, but it still hit one of his ribs and fell into his lap, and he awkwardly juggled it until it dropped to the floor. Everywhere the head and shaft of the arrow touched his bare skin they left behind the red streak of silver burn. He gave a howl of pain and shouted something I ignored as I brushed past Hawk, Doc, and Spike to rush out the door, my vision blurred with tears.

Even so, I couldn’t miss the throng of Sunstrikers gathered outside. They were watching the spectacle from a safe distance, several yards from the cabin, all of them with wide eyes and open mouths. Paula was there. Her triumphant smirk and the glitter of success in her eyes weren’t lost on me. Nor the shamed blushes and eyes cast aside rather than meeting mine when I spotted Sean and Simon. Their looks spoke of guilt—which meant they’d known about this. God, they’d all known and covered for Chaz, leaving me to think everything was just peachy while Chaz was screwing some other bitch on the side.

Paula stepped close enough to whisper a few soft words as I passed, and it was all I could do not to turn around and deck her for them. “See how much a leech’s pet means in this pack? Stay away from us. You’re not welcome here.”

Enraged, I stalked along the path, brushing past the gathered Sunstrikers who hurriedly backed out of my way as I approached. None of them made any move to follow.

The shadows had lengthened, and night would fall soon. Chaz wouldn’t be able to come after me to continue the argument; he’d be shifting soon enough, as would the rest of the pack. I thought about what to do while he was out of my hair for the next few hours. The Nightstrikers had gotten one thing right in their childish attempts at revenge—setting fire to what remained of Chaz’s personal belongings would be an excellent place to start. I’d follow their example.

My planning was interrupted as Hawk, huffing a bit, caught up with me, settling into a slower pace to match my stride. I didn’t bother to look at him.

“That was
awesome,
” he said.

“Pretty impressive, lady,” Spike rumbled from behind me, sending me stumbling when he patted my shoulder.

As soon as I caught my balance, I kept walking, silently seething. I wasn’t sure what would come out of my mouth if I answered them just then.

“Hey, you just accomplished what we have been hoping to do for the last thirteen years. That was a hell of a way for him to lose face in front of his pack.”

“Look,” I growled, turning on a heel to shove an admonishing finger under Hawk’s nose. He stopped in his tracks, surprised. “I didn’t do any of that for you. I did that for me. Can you let me cool off before you try being chummy? Please?”

“Oh, sure,” said Spike, tugging on Hawk’s arm to pull him back. “No problem. We just wanted to let you know we’re done now.”

“Yeah,” said Doc, his beaming smile revealing that wicked set of fangs again. Were his features narrower than before? “You helped us finish our quest.”

“We won’t bother you again,” Hawk said.

I didn’t reply, watching as the three gave me cheery waves and wandered off toward the lodge. My eyes weren’t mistaken; inky black feathers were sprouting around the cuffs of Hawk’s shirt, and Spike’s hands were now shaped more like paws, tipped with huge curved claws. They joked and laughed as they wandered up the trail, past some trees, and beyond my line of sight.

A chill of foreboding ran through me. If they were shifting, the Sunstrikers must be close, too. Chaz’s temper would be fired up. The rest of the Sunstrikers had no reason to avoid me now that I was undoubtedly beyond the pack leader’s protection. I had no weapons if they should come upon me in the dark.

I turned and ran.

Chapter 20

Nick and Dillon weren’t happy to see me when I rushed back into the cabin. I’d forgotten about them.

They were straining at their bonds, teeth too prominent and hands sporting claws flexing as they twisted and fought against the chains. I very nearly turned around and left them there to take my chances in the woods.

“Get us out of here!” Dillon shouted.

They were still human enough to speak. Human enough to know better than to touch me. It didn’t make it any easier to approach the struggling pair.

Dillon’s eyes glowed green when I knelt in front of him, searching for all of the carabiners used to hook the chains together. He stilled when I put a hand to his shoulder, nostrils flared and breath hissing between his teeth.

Spike had used a few of the hefty clasps to secure the chains. My hands shook as I fumbled at the catch to the first one. The occasional ripples of shifting muscle as Dillon fought to keep still didn’t help.

Soon, Dillon was freed, and he practically leapt to his feet as he shrugged out of the chains. I concentrated on freeing Nick, carefully not looking at Dillon as he tore off his clothes in preparation for the shift.

By the time Nick was free, Dillon was already sprouting fur, crouched low on the floor as his bones and muscles rearranged themselves. The sounds of popping tendons and creaking muscles made my stomach lurch. Worse, as I patted Nick’s shoulder to let him know he was free, he twisted around to face me, his face distorting as his jaw extended into a muzzle baring teeth dripping with saliva.