Free to Love (The Tribe MC: Chase of Prey Book 3) (4 page)

CHAPTER 6

The moon rose; stars pricked the ebony surface of the sky and their light mingled with the broad silver sweep shining down from the moon, illuminating the motorcycle resting neatly on its kickstand near a large live oak.

Footprints led away from the bike and she followed them, walking softly on the rich, black soil. She could feel it beneath her toes, loamy and firm. She could hear music: a thriving and mournful violin, a slow soft drum. An owl flew overhead, its cry rising in unison with the melody. Her heart thudded and perspiration broke out on her brow.

Something was terribly and desperately wrong. She did not know what it was, but she was becoming more and more frightened with each step.

Part of her knew that this was a dream, a vision, but she could not shake herself awake. It clung to her, surrounded her like the encroaching woods.

The drum grew heavier, more insistent. The violin stopped playing but the wind picked up, adding its own haunting tone to the night. Cara saw red up ahead and she stared at it, trying to figure out what those small cherry–colored flares of light were. A howl sounded out and she stopped still, her feet sinking into the soil. The red flares came closer, lower to the ground. Her heart sank all the way into her belly as she realized what it was.

Rogues! There were rogues in the woods! She tried to run but her feet were mired in the soil. She put one hand out, trying to summon the silver sword that she had found during her battle with the rogue, but there was nothing there, not even a spell. Her magic was gone! Her hand fell to her side. She happened to glance down, and then her terror grew even greater.

Her belly swelled large and full beneath the soft wraps that she wore. She knew what the scarlet and gold wraps signified: they were the traditional garments worn by a woman before she gave birth. If she was wearing them, she must be close to bearing this child.

A strong kick came from within her body, doubling her over in pain. Fire exploded in the distance, racing through the woods. Trees were devoured by flames in seconds.

The wolves were not gone, though. They only crouched lower to the ground, their eyes glowing even redder. Cold shivers broke out on her body, running up and down her skin. Her breath was gone, she did not have the strength to run and the baby was coming!

From behind her came the roar and chop of the motorcycle’s engine. She was afraid to turn around. She knew that it was Sebastian, but which Sebastian would she see — the human or the Wolf?

Cara sat up in bed, the sheets tangled and twisted around her. Beside her, Sebastian slumbered calmly. She wished she could go back to sleep but she knew she couldn’t. This was no mere dream — this had been a vision. But like all visions, it was hard to determine whether or not it was a warning about changeable events or a glimpse into an inevitable future.

“They should come with a sign,” she said to herself.

Sebastian muttered something that might have been agreement and rolled over, giving her a glimpse of his back and ass. The dark cleft between his buttocks drew her eye and she let her fingers wander to that deep cleft. She slid her fingers in and out, skating them across his flesh as she stroked his skin.

What had that vision meant? If there were rogues in the woods, then where were they? Were they coming right now?

Unable to stay in bed while her mind was so filled with visions, Cara got up, taking one of the wraps with her. She slung it around herself, creating a small loop around her neck and allowing rectangle of fabric to cover her body from the breasts down.

She had not gone very far before she heard a strange snapping sound. Sebastian was behind her, pulling her against his chest and wrapping one arm around her to lay a finger against her lips in warning.

The snapping sound that she had heard was him shaking out his jeans. They were unbuttoned still; she reached her hands back and fumbled with the top button, closing it for him.

They crept downstairs silently. They could tell immediately that they were not the only ones who were awake and aware of trouble.

Nico was feigning sleep, lying still with his hands folded neatly across his chest, but his eyes were wide open. Dog and several others were also lying down but listening intently. Many of the people who had been in the bedrooms had begun to appear on the stairs, keeping to the shadows at the top and along the sides rather than come directly down the staircase.

“What about the people in the RVs?” Cara whispered?

Her question was answered by a sudden scream from outside. Powerful floodlights came on, sending clear light into the living room and the hallway beyond it. The lights were intended to temporarily blind the house’s residents, but since all were clinging to the shadows, most managed to keep their vision and see the first Hunters approach.

The first to jump into the fray was Detective Mark Johnson. “Police! Freeze!” he shouted.

It was a formality — everyone knew it. The Hunters men on the force would quickly and efficiently dispatch as many of the Fallen as they could.

The Hunters had assumed that the Tribe was outside in the caravans and the Fallen were in the house. It would’ve made sense; after all, the Tribe and the Fallen were enemies both as clans and as biker gangs, and the Hunters would not have risked the human members of the police force seeing werewolves.

Earlier, in the circle, many of the Fallen had reverted to their Wolf state. It had been their only hope of fighting off many of the rogues. They were stronger in that shape, so it was only natural, but none dared shed their silver now. To attack humans in Wolf form was to risk going rogue, and no one wanted that.

Gunfire rattled out. Bullets punched through a wall close to Cara and Sebastian stood. He grabbed her by the arm, tossing her through an open doorway and into a room filled with furniture that had been covered with dusty sheets.

As she lay sprawled on the floor, Cara saw more light splitting the backyard where the RVs were parked. She heard shouts and saw a flickering blue light: a protective spell around the RV that held the children. That was one worry off her mind — not even cops could breach those spells.

The screams outside became worse and suddenly doors were being wrenched open. More people flooded into the house: cop, Tribe and Fallen that had been outside the RVs.

Sebastian shoved Cara down behind a couch near a window. “Stay there!” he commanded, but she bounced to her feet and followed him as he ran back out to the main part of the house.

What he saw and heard made him stop so suddenly that she ran right into his back, her nose meeting the nape of his neck with a hard thud that sent her staggering backwards with one hand to her face.

A man wearing a DEA jacket was babbling almost incoherently, holding out his arm, his sleeve shredded to reveal a large, ragged wound bleeding profusely. “There’s wolves out there!” he cried. “I swear to God to keep they’re wolves as pets!”

Sebastian turned to Detective Johnson and said, “If you want to live, and if you want to see these men live, listen to me now. It’s not the Fallen. There are rogues about, and dozens of them at that. It’s an open rebellion, they’ve declared war on us and the Tribe. This man has been bitten by a rogue. We both know the consequences of that.”

The bitten man blinked a few times and asked, “What do you mean? What are the consequences? What the fuck is going on here?”

Detective Johnson shot him.

Many other cops shrank back against the wall; those who did not were clearly the Hunters. Detective Johnson finally spoke, his voice quiet but deadly. “There are things happening here that you would never believe. But they’re real. Give it a few minutes. It will convince you when he gets up and walks.”

Cara stared at the man. “Are you insane?” she shrieked. “You’re going to let him return? We’ll be in the house with a rogue!”

He gave her a crooked smile and said, “There are fifty or sixty of us in here. If we can’t kill one rogue we don’t deserve to live.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Cara dug a toe into the rug and stared at Sebastian who shrugged. He had probably been thinking the same thing before the damn detective said it. It had to be a guy thing. No woman in her right mind would ever turn a rogue loose in the living room simply to prove that there was such a thing as rogues.

The man on the floor began to twitch and spasm. One of the other cops shouted, “You just didn’t kill him, that’s all! You crazy bastard, I’m going to have your ass in a sling when we get back to the precinct!”

“Just watch.” Detective Johnson’s voice was hard and his body shifted slightly.

When the DEA agent lurched to his feet, his face already changing, he was roaring in hunger and scrabbling at his own flesh, attempting to tear it off more quickly so that he could transform.

One of the police officers, a pretty young woman, screamed and backed against a wall. Her gun went off, firing uselessly into the opposite wall. Cara ran to her and snatched the gun out of her hands, shouting, “The last thing on earth we need is for you to kill actual people, dumb-ass!”

Detective Johnson pulled his gun out and shot the rogue. It went down with a thump and he re-holstered the gun.

“That is not a regular Wolf,” Sebastian said tersely. “That is a rogue. It will get back up unless you sever its head.”

“I’ve been hunting for ten years. I think I hunted you, as a matter of fact.” Detective Johnson’s dark eyes were cold as he stared at Sebastian.

“I’m not sure what that says about your skills, given that you’re standing right next to me and still haven’t caught me.”

Before the two men could come to blows, the rogue leaped back into life, grabbing Johnson around the waist. It lifted him high into the air, pinning his arms tightly at his sides.

“Would you like some help?” Sebastian asked calmly.

The rogue’s teeth almost grazed the detective’s neck. “Yes, dammit!” Johnson yelled. It was obvious that the rogue was about to break his ribs.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, slipped his silver knuckles onto one hand and punched the rogue in the face.

Roaring in pain and surprise, the rogue dropped to the detective. Sebastian thrust his blade deep within its chest, aiming for the lungs. Without the ability to breathe, nothing could live, not even a werewolf.

The cops who were not Hunters were all freaking out, and Cara couldn’t really blame them. A few of them headed for the door but before they could get there, the windows were shattered by rogues coming into the house. Cara could hear the children chanting and knew that some of the older women had taught them to reinforce the spells as much as possible to keep them safe. That spoke volumes about how bad it was out there.

It was even worse inside. Dozens of rogues poured into the house, their massive bodies easily taking down cops and quite a few of the Tribe and Fallen. The Hunters began to help force the rogues back.

They were all exhausted, the earlier battle had drained them. Sebastian and Cara both knew that this had been deliberate. The rogues who’d poured into the circle were not the same rogues that they were fighting now. Gregory had purposely sent in his second-stringers to the circle and his top fighters to the house. He had made sure that this ragtag little bunch of Tribe survivors would be weak and tired.

But Gregory had not anticipated the presence of the Hunters and the police. Some of the cops recovered almost immediately and grabbed the nearest weapon that would help take the rogues down. One particularly resourceful officer, a middle-aged woman, had grabbed a poker from the old fireplace and was shoving it through a rogue’s chest.

Sebastian yelled, “Try to take off their heads or take out their lungs! It’s the only way to keep them down! Cara, once they’re down, I need you to take care of the rest of it!”

Cara didn’t have to ask him what he meant. Every time a rogue went down she was there, that clean blue light flashing from her fingers as she used her magic to remove the rogue’s heads from their bodies.

A few of the Tribe women were busy grabbing the heads and piling them into a fireplace so that nobody could be accidentally bitten. Even in death, a rogue could bite once or twice. The jaws often opened and then snapped closed as the head was severed.

One moment Sebastian was standing in front of her, battling shoulder-to-shoulder with Johnson. Cara looked away just for a moment, long enough to detach the heads of two more dead rogues, but when she looked up again, Sebastian was gone. Terror gripped her. The room was filled with a rising mass of people, rogues, blood and fur.

She tried to battle her way through the crowd, desperately looking for Sebastian’s blond head, but she couldn’t see it anywhere.

Had a rogue ripped him to bits? Was he alive? What would happen to him if he was bitten by a rogue? Would that remove his ability to resist human flesh? All she knew was that he was gone and she was terrified and that she wanted him back.

When she finally caught a glimpse of him in the throng, it only made her more afraid. He was running out the door, chasing a rogue that she recognized: Gregory! She made her way out of the reeking charnel house, weeping with disgust and fright, tripping over bodies and severing heads as she went into the crisp air of the night beyond.

Sebastian and Gregory were facing each other in a small clearing. The moon sparkled off Sebastian’s silver rings and necklaces. His hips moved easily and almost intimately in his tight jeans. He was slowly making circling the enormous, vicious beast that was growling and gathering its muscles to leap at him.