Shifter's Moon (Paranormal Shifter Romance) (12 page)

             
Jake shook his head.  “I just don’t understand… what does it matter to them?”

             
“They’re an ancient lineage, Jake.  And proud.  To them, even the existence of exiles, individuals who turned their back on the tribe’s teaching, is an affront.  They’ll stop at nothing to wipe us all out.”

             
He gulped.  He wondered what sort of a chance someone like him had against people who could turn into wolves.  When he looked across at Irma she was wearing the same expression, one that was a grim acceptance that they were no match, and his heart followed its way back to Lia.  She was their only hope now.  “I don’t suppose there are any other wolves in Barrelgrove who are in danger?” he asked, but Irma was already shaking her head and took another sip from the flask before stuffing it back in the breast pocket of her coat.

             
“Not for a number of years, no.  Some are on a pilgrimage in Europe, a few others live in the city or go to university.  And we’ve had casualties, too.  Lorelei and Lia are the only ones currently,” she said, “which makes it more dangerous for us.  It means they can focus all their man power and resources just on us.”

             
“Well, it’ll be an exciting next forty-eight hours, I guess,” he said whimsically, and caught Irma’s frown out of the corner of his eye.  It was a defensive mechanism – he had a tendency to try and make jokes or act sardonic when he was stressed as a way to lighten the mood and put things in perspective, but for people that didn’t know him it often came off as arrogance or irresponsibility. 

             
“It’s not my business,” Irma began, “but I’ve never seen Lia act around anyone like she does around you.”

             
“Meaning?”

             
“Meaning, I think I figured Lia was just the type that’d never fall in love.  You must know, it was hard for her growing up.  And even now… she has a guarded heart.  She doesn’t let anyone in, and people often get frustrated and try to break in… but she’s so locked and reinforced that they can barely knick her.  And now you,” she said, and trailed off.

             
Jake’s hands clenched on the steering wheel.  “What’s your point?”

             
“Lia’s a survivor, and she’s survived by staying apart, never letting her emotions get in the way.  But you’ve broken down those walls, now.  She let you inside, and you’re still there… and that makes her vulnerable.  I just want you to know how much faith she’s placed in you,” Irma said, and reached over Lorelei’s body between them.  The arm looked a little better after having the opportunity to heal while she was in her wolf form, but it was still badly bruised.

             
“I won’t let her down,” he said, and stepped on the gas harder, “you just point me in the right direction.”

***

The sun was still a round orb ballasting on the horizon by time they made it to the church.  It was a small out of the way community, and the church itself was another three miles down a back country road in the middle of nowhere.  Jake had driven non-stop and ended up switching with Irma half way but he could still feel the muscles in his legs and arms heavy with exertion.

             
The church itself was a classic 1900’s artifact that had been meticulously restored, and he half expected to see a congregation in old pilgrim clothing come out of the big ornately carved oak doors.  Irma brought her pickup to a halt outside the doors and Jake helped Lorelei out.  She had woken up just before they turned off the freeway, but still had a sleepy disoriented look on her face.  The thought of Lia facing off alone against the other wolves was unbearable to Jake, so he could only imagine how much it was straining at Lorelei’s heart to know her granddaughter was in imminent danger.  She hid it well and bit back on her pain as Jake guided her toward the church.  He could still smell the smoke and ash on both of them.

             
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. I’m guessing the circumstances are less than amiable,” a low gravelly voice pronounced and Jake saw a bald man standing in the entrance.  His face had a kindly nature to it, and Irma walked up and gave him a bear hug.

             
“Jake, this is Father Arrel,” she said, and then faced the bald man, “We’re in trouble.”

             
“You always are.  Come inside,” he said.

             
Father Arrel led them into the old wooden church and they put Lorelei down on a bed.  As Jake was about to head out he felt her sharp skinny hand reach out and grab him by the sleeve.  He turned and the fire in her eyes was enough to startle him. 

             
“Jake,” she said and he kneeled down beside her.  The small lines in her face seemed emphasized, as if she’d aged another twenty years since they’d pulled her out of the burning wreckage of the cottage.  “Lia, she needs your help,” she whispered, “…she can’t face them alone.”

             
He suddenly felt short of breath, as if the air was cloying or too thick.  “She won’t be alone,” he finally said, and that seemed to sate Lorelei.  A small smile formed at the ridge of her black lips and she closed her eyes and passed out again.

             
Father Arrel stood behind him and cleared his throat.  “Don’t worry about, Lorry, I’ve already made arrangements to get her out of her,” he said. 

             
“I have to get back,” Jake said, standing up. 

             
“Before you leave,” Father Arrel said, and motioned Jake to follow him into his study. 

             
Arrel’s study was a small room adjacent to the main church and Jake felt a wave of nostalgia rush over him as he entered.  The walls were lined with books, dusty tomes that stretched to the small ceiling.  There were piles of books on the floor as well, and the walls were hung with oddly shaped weapons.  It reminded Jake more of an archaeologist’s study than a pastor’s.

             
“I appreciate your help, Father.  But we’re running out of time.  I need to get back on the road,” he said.  Time was his enemy, and his whole body felt like it was wrapped in barbed wire.  Images of Lia flooded his mind.

             
“I know, son.  But you need all the advantages you can muster,” he said.  His voice had the sound of a veteran chain smoker, and Jake saw him reaching into the top left hand drawer of his desk.  He pulled out a black handled firearm and a clip and set them on the desk.

             
“I’m not a gunfighter,” Jake said, not trusting the weapon.

             
“Maybe not,” Father Arrel said, “but if you want to protect Lia, you’re going to have to become one.  These have silver casings… whatever the legends of werewolves embellished or plain made up, they at least accounted for with one piece of accuracy.  Silver is lethal to their kind.”

             
Jake gulped and picked up the gun.  It felt unnaturally heavy in his hand and he dreaded the thought of actually having to use it.  But if it meant protecting Lia, he’d do whatever it took.  He pocketed the clip and put the gun in his jacket pocket.  “Anything else?”

             
Father Arrel shook his head.  “I figure if you need to confess your sins… you’ll have to wait,” he grinned.  Jake didn’t reply and walked back out of the study.

             
Irma was kneeling down beside Irma and looked up at Jake.  “Ready?” she asked.  He could only nod. 

             
The sun had finally dipped below the horizon by time they got back on the road, and Jake was quiet as he took the wheel and plowed into the deepening darkness.  He could still feel the cold heft of the gun in his pocket through the fabric of his hoodie.  The muscles along his jaw tightened as he thought about having to use it.  He couldn’t bury a mental image of Lia, surrounded by smoke, the smell of blood in the air, and her scream of pain.  It was enough to set his hair on end, and he narrowed his eyes and leveled the gas pedal to the floor.  The pickup roared, and Irma raised an eyebrow at him.

             
“We’ll get there, Jake,” she said.

Chapter Eleven

By time they reached Barrelgrove again it was already night and the pickups lights could barely keep the darkness at bay.  Without a word between them Jake turned onto the road that led back to the acreage.  He felt his pulse quicken as they neared closer.  He wasn’t sure what use he could possibly be, and glanced at Irma.

             
“I’m in this until the end,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes.

             
He cranked into fifth gear and rounded the corner into the valley.  The smell of smoke was still heavy, but the fire had long since petered out and there were only a few scant embers left from the destroyed barn, their red heat glimmering like eyes.

             
They pulled up and stepped out, and Jake made a mental note that Lia’s bike was still where they’d left it.  He reached into his hoodie and his hand unconsciously settled on the handle of the pistol. Irma rushed ahead of him and then bent over, examining something on the ground.  When Jake got closer he noticed she was looking at several large wolf prints in the ash that had settled like snow on the grass.  He looked around but the timberline was an inky amalgam, and he couldn’t detect any sounds other than the rasp of crickets.

             
“Where would they be?” he hissed, and pulled the gun out.  Irma flinched when she saw the firearm but didn’t say anything.  She pointed up the hill past the cottage where the tracks seemed to disappear into the forest.

             
“There’s a small clearing just beyond the trees,” she said.

             
They followed an indistinct path that led up through the woods and Jake had to stop several times to let his eyes continually adjust to the dark.  He gulped again, realizing how much of a disadvantage it was not to be able to see in the dark.

             
Suddenly a howl tore through the blackness and he felt Irma freeze behind him.  The long bleating howl was directly ahead and he could see a dim break in the trees.  The clearing that Irma had spoken of was just beyond, and he steeled himself for the encounter.  As they crept closer they heard the gnashing of teeth and loud yips.  Several shapes where battling in the center of a rocky slope that was devoid of trees, and he heard what sounded like dogs attacking each other.

             
It took all his will not to shout Lia’s name as he ran forward.  Two of the wolves were lying on their side, and in the dim moonlight he could see dark patches on their light tawny coats.  Either they were dead or incapacitated, and he brought his attention to the remaining three.  He saw a black wolf huddled between a small boulder, its back leaning heavily against it.  He realized he was looking at Lia’s wolf-form, and he let out a gasp.  The two remaining wolves, both with grey-white fur, had surrounded her and he understood he was witnessing the final battle between them. 

             
“LIA!” he finally shouted, his voice wracking the night air.

             
All of the wolves turned at his voice and he saw the larger of the white wolves bare its teeth and growl at him.  There was a strange dark discoloring down its shoulder, and he realized it wasn’t a natural pigment.  His mind flashed back to the encounter with the biker and the tattoo.

             
“Leave her alone,” he said, raising the gun.  The two white wolves looked once at each other and then back at Jake.  “If I get you to Lia, you have to get her out of here,” he whispered back to Irma, who had taken up a position behind him. 

             
“I’ll punch ‘em out if they get too close, Jake, but I can’t run as fast as you.”

             
“Do what you can.  I’ll distract them,” he hissed back and raised the gun again.

             
The white wolf raises its head and its lips peeled back over its teeth.  In a flash both wolves raced toward him.  He barely had time to pull the trigger, aiming at the lead wolf.  He saw a bright spurt of blood and the wolf yelped and staggered to the left.  The second smaller grey wolf lunged at them and he pushed Irma forward toward Lia as he rolled out of the way, barely missing its gnashing teeth.  He aimed and fired again, and the wolf dodged behind a small rocky jut.

             
Irma had made it to Lia who was limping heavily and bleeding from several deep wounds around her neck and back.  Her wolf eyes were half closed and he could hear it whimper as Irma tried to use the heft of her body to support its massive body. 

             
“Irma, watch out!” Jake screamed, and shot again at the white wolf who was advancing toward them.

             
Just then he saw a flash of grey and the smaller wolf lunged toward him.  Somehow it had maneuvered around the rocky jut and managed to get the element of height on him.  He felt the weight of wolf crush into him and the air escape his lungs as he toppled down the slope.  A small outcrop of rock saved him from tumbling all the way down but he felt the impact bruise one of his ribs and let out a groan.