Part 11

I kept the small window in the bedroom open, it wasn't big enough for anyone to get through, man or wolf, so I wasn't concerned that it would compromise our safety. Just the opposite in fact, I was hoping that I might hear or smell anyone who approached us; with enough time to grab up a gun, and warn Jeremy. I didn't sleep. It was probably a good thing, not sleeping, but in the end we heard the sound at the same time: feet on the wooden porch, heavy feet.

I tucked a gun into the waistband of my pants, took a rifle in my hands and went out to the main room in time to see the door forced open by massive shoulders. In truth, I don't think Jeremy had locked it, wanting to bring on the conflict and allow himself the opportunity to easily leave the building. Paws and doorknobs don't work too well together. Jeremy had shifted into the powerful wolf I was used to seeing around Stonehaven. He was staring at the black mass that was coming in the door. The only problem was, the black one wasn't alone. Behind him a reddish wolf entered, and even with the pungent odor of the first one filling my nostrils, I recognized Victor Olsen. I raised the rifle and aimed directly at him without hesitation. The crack of the shot, and its kickback rattled my head for an instant; the yelp helped me to focus. I hadn't killed him, mores the pity, but he was out of the game for a little while as the black wolf lunged at Jeremy while I steadied myself for a second shot. I was distracted by a third wolf, salt and pepper grey, another unknown Mutt following the first two.

It was then that I got concerned.

Snarling and posturing turned into teeth and flying fur as the black wolf leapt for where Jeremy was, or had been, as he ducked and rolled, his fangs snapping at the moving shoulder, flesh tearing. I fired the gun; again deafening myself temporarily in the small space. That shot barely slowed down the third wolf and he turned to me, closing the distance, making the rifle useless. I dropped it and yanked out the pistol, emptying the clip in rapid fire, trying to put down the agile wolf that split its glances between myself and Jeremy, who was truly battling now. I don't know how many of the bullets hit their intended target.

I heard Jeremy's voice in my head, telling me to run, I didn't want to, until the forth wolf entered the now crowed cabin.

Then I felt the fear within us both.

I backed into the bedroom, three wolves watching me but not taking any further steps towards me, as if they somehow knew they weren't to physically harm me. Door open, I saw them turn on Jeremy, and I felt my gut buckle.

"No!" I screamed to myself, doubling over in pain. The change was coming on and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I pulled my shirt off roughly over my head, anticipating the feeling of strangulation adding to the anxiety. Fortunately the bed kept me somewhat hidden from the other wolves, protecting a modicum of my modesty. The second wave of nausea hit, I knew the pain, and the loss of rational thinking wouldn't be far away.

"I'm so sorry little one." I whispered as I clutched my abdomen and the change overtook me.

It began with my jaw, pushing forward, dragging my skull perpendicular to my cervical vertebrae, the pain changing my vision from dark to blinding white. My shoulders pulled backwards, ligaments and muscles tightened, forcing my arms and legs into bent postures as I dropped to the floor. My pelvis tilted and the scream from my lips came, not as a human cry of absolute agony, but a high-pitched roar, and with it I emerged from behind the bed, padded through the door, and drew the eyes of all the wolves in the room as the feral nature overtook my logical mind. My Alpha, my mate was in mortal danger and I was going to kill everything between myself and him.

I could see the confusion in the eyes of the other wolves, as much as my brain could process such things. They'd been told not to harm me, but they had no idea what to do if I intended to harm them. And I did. Teeth bared I leapt into the clutch of them, snapping my jaw down over the first piece of flesh I met, grinding, tearing as I shook my head, coming away with a ragged piece of meat, blood seeping into my mouth, bringing me to life.

Blood was energy, blood was power, and blood taken in the hunt was elixir. Claws were turned on me, but scratches would heal, as would the bite wounds, I hardly felt them as I drove forward, my own claws searching out purchase as my fangs sought exposed flesh. One by one they turned away from Jeremy, and I saw him emerge from the pile. His muzzle bore a vicious gash, the fur at the nape of his neck was matted with blood, his own, I could smell it. He stood, testing his legs, eyes locked to mine for the split second we were allowed before we both drove ourselves against our attackers. Four on two were bad odds, especially when Jeremy had been the target of three on his own for so many minutes. Even Olsen, having recovered his nerve from the shell I had put in him, was getting to his feet. Jeremy and I were being herded backwards, together at least, against the half wall that divided out a small kitchen in the great room. The air was peppered with gnashing teeth, snarling, and calls. I was afraid that there might be even more of them, and that we would be completely done for. The next wolf in the door though, having come by their summons, was one I knew, and one that promised to even the odds of the confrontation.

I will never forget how Clay looks when he's turned. A massive, brindle grey wolf with shoulders wider than my arms. Piercing yellow eyes and curled back black lips exposing the longest, sharpest fangs one would pray to avoid. The rumble in his chest set the cabin floor to shaking. He, like me, had recognized Olson for who he truly was in a matter of seconds. Hardly a breath after that Clay's powerful mouth had locked over Victor's throat, and crushed through the soft tissues, the vertebral bodies crackling with Clay's bite force. A sickening gurgle, and vomit of blood tinged foam, and Olson was no more for this nature or any other. His body was whipped towards his companions as warning. And it was not a warning to escape, but a warning to make their peace. The three left were no match, not with the fear of their own death driving them to make mistakes. Parry, feint, riposte, and three dead lay at our feet; only our heavy breathing filling the now silent room.

A question passed between us three as a howl split the oncoming dawn. I had not thought that any of the bodies on the cabin floor were that of Daniel Santos. From what I had heard of the man he tended to send others to do the dangerous work, waiting to come in and claim the victory. But there was no victory to be had on his part, and he could not be allowed to escape and raise yet another clutch of Mutts to sacrifice again. Clay and I assessed which one of us was in the best position to kill him.

But Jeremy's snarl kept Clay and I motionless. It was his right to confront the wolf outside that challenged his position as Alpha, but Clay and I certainly had no intention of letting Santos escape the playing field he had marked out. The Alpha exited first, but Clay and I came up on his flanks, moving in a semi-circular path to surround the rowan colored wolf snarling at Jeremy. Santos pirouetted around on his four legs, eyeing up each of us, drawn back to Jeremy by a growl that told him all he needed to know about who his fight was with. Clay and I were witnesses, and we would not interfere with the outcome; that was Pack law, not that following such laws was a pastime of Daniel's. So in the end, even if he bested Jeremy, he still might not survive the encounter. Hopefully that knowledge put him as off his game as his Mutts.

Without taking my yellow eyes off of Santos I licked the blood clear of the fur on my muzzle. Clay pawed at the ground with a rhythmic thumping that put me in the mind of a heartbeat. It seemed to drive Jeremy forward, and Santos in the opposite direction. But there was no escape for him. Realizing that, and perhaps for the first time in his life that it was his turn to stand up for his desires, he sprang towards Jeremy and landed his claws against Jeremy's back, raking away, peeling the skin apart to expose muscle and sinew. Jeremy retaliated with claws of his own, wheeling and catching Santos across the snout, tearing his nose into ragged strips. Daniel's howl was exciting to hear, and my body trembled with it. I felt myself answering the fight with a chattering hiss. The bodies rolled together between Clay and I, each of us backing just far enough out of the way to avoid the temptation to bite or tear our own piece.

Jeremy was breathing heavily, he'd been well worked over before he had committed himself to finishing Santos. I watched his chest heave but stood my ground as, for a moment, Santos took the upper hand, snapping at Jeremy's back leg and contacting. Jeremy's answering howl was not pain though: it was rage. His body twisted in an unnatural way I thought, and his mouth came down over Santos' muzzle, and clamped on, powerful forelegs dragging the incapacitated wolf forwards against his will. The response was a mewling cry, claws digging against the dirt ground. With a mighty shake of his head and shoulders Jeremy ripped skin and flesh free, tossing Santos to his left, where he landed in a broken heap, Jeremy atop him.

Fangs sank into the unprotected gut, and blood sprayed across us all. As three we howled to the dawn as it broke over the forest top. Then we were quiet.

Jeremy's voice, or presence, or whatever the proper term was, came into my head, urging me back indoors, back into the bedroom. I complied, my human mind starting to come back to the foreground. I padded around the bodies and jumped up on the bed, curling myself into a ball to release the wolf. My head dropped to my chest, my legs and arms released the tension of muscles to fall back into their more normal configurations. When my hands were my own again, and I had the presence of mind beyond the exhaustion and the ache, I wrapped them over my belly and began to cry quietly to myself, whispering, 'I'm sorry' over and over again. Male hands drew a blanket overtop of my naked body. I did not have the energy to open my eyes or use my senses to determine who it had been, and it didn't take the cold away. The door was closed to protect me from what was about to happen. But the sounds, though muted, crept in.

I knew the sound of the axe; how it split flesh and the crack sound that rose up from it as it splintered bone. I knew the scent of a wood fire, the undertone of garbage from the burning barrel, the overtone of meat. It was a hunting cabin after all, offal had to be dealt with in a manner that would not bring other predators. It was sickening. So much so that after a while I had to lean over the side of the bed, in search of a wastepaper basket to throw up in. It was a monumental effort, and I remember nothing after that.

"She needs to go to a doctor." They were trying to keep their voices down as they argued about me in the main room of the cabin.

"We can't take that chance Clay."

"To hell with being discovered, this could be her life we're talking about."

"You don't think I know that? You don't think I'd do whatever I could?"

"What is more important?"

"Don't ask me that Clay, I am still your Alpha."

Their voices were rising, tones becoming sharper and words more clipped. I could hear one of them, likely Clay, beginning to pace on the pine floors.

My head was pounding, my whole body ached, but that was to be expected considering the beating I'd taken the night before. I struggled to right myself on the bed, keeping the quilt wrapped around me. A wave of dizziness threatened that attempt and I moaned. That brought both men to me.

"Elena?"

When I could finally open my eyes without everything spinning I could see the blood smears on the bed. It was hard to tell where it had come from; besides the obvious, me. Jeremy slipped a hand around the small of my back and helped to brace me upwards against the headboard. My right shoulder began to throb, and looking over at it, what I could see of it, it was bandaged, and certainly the source of some of the blood. Running a hand over my head I felt the mats in my hair. More blood. I then had to look under the quilt, to see if my legs were stained, they were, but they were likewise bandaged.

"How bad?" I whispered. They knew what I wanted to know, but neither had an answer for me, except in the their miserable expressions.

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"About ten hours. I should have a look at your wounds." Jeremy asked my permission to start unwrapping my shoulder.

"Are you hungry?" Clay asked.

I realized that I was, ravenous in fact, for a moment.

"I'll go and cook something."

"No." I felt my gut lurch, "nothing cooked, fruit, bread, something cold." The memory of the burning barrel returned.

"I'll get something." Clay left the room, closing the door to allow me some modesty as Jeremy carefully unwrapped my body.

"It's looking better." He told me.

"But you're already healed, and you were hurt much worse than I was, what's going on Jeremy?"

"I don't know Elena. My best guess is the pregnancy. But of course you've never been this badly hurt before, it might just be the way with female wolves."

"Did you do all the dressings?"

He nodded.

"Then you know, you must know." I hated how my voice stuttered. "Did I lose the baby?"

"I don't know Elena, honestly, I don't know."

"I want to get dressed, I want to go home." I didn't want to sound like I was whining, but I just didn't want to be in that place anymore.

"Whatever you want, if you feel strong enough."

"I just want to go home."

Jeremy got my overnight bag, and with his help I slipped into a tee shirt and a clean pair of yoga pants. By the time Clay returned with crackers and cheese and a banana I was ready to leave. He never questioned that desire, just helped me to get to the car and got me settled into the passenger seat. He stayed behind to finish cleaning up.

I waited till we were back on the highway before I asked the next question.

"Santos is dead isn't he?"

"Oh yes."

"Good."

We stopped for a better meal, a bag of apples and some berries in a plastic clamshell, and a few bottles of water. It was enough.

Clay had spoken with Antonio, who was expecting us when we pulled up even though it was late. He had another meal prepared, again all cold, no meat. I wondered if I might ever want to eat it again. The ever-present cup of tea was waiting for me, along with a warm embrace.

"Once you've eaten and washed up, I have something I'd like to try, for the baby, if that's okay?" He told me.

I trusted Antonio completely so I nodded, ate quickly, and showered. I would have preferred to soak in the old bathtub until I was oblivious to everything. But I needed the answer.

He and Jeremy came up to my room, obviously after having had some kind of conversation about what they were going to do, depending upon what results might be discovered. I was asked to lie down on the bed, and with careful hands, Jeremy rolled up my shirt to expose my belly. I wanted to smile at the tiny little bump that was still there; of course it was, it had only been a day.

"It's called a fetal Doppler." Antonio pulled a small device out of a grey case. "It's not 100%, and I'm no expert, but sometimes you can find a baby's heartbeat with it."

"Okay."

He put a dollop of ultrasound gel on my skin. It was cold and made me shiver. I reached for Jeremy's hand and squeezed it very tightly.

The machine produced a few clicks and whooshing sounds as Antonio moved it around on my skin, but nothing like I was expecting, I closed my eyes, trying to hide my disappointment, and the tears that threatened. And then it was there, a regular thump thump sound, strong and repetitive. I cannot explain the joy I felt, except in the smile that burst across Jeremy's face, the tears in his eyes glittering, the same way mine were I supposed.

"Thank you." I sobbed quietly to Antonio.

He just nodded to me.

"I'll leave you two alone then." And he packed up and left.

As soon as that door closed Jeremy pulled me into his arms and held me as tightly as he dared. I let the tears fall.

"We're going to be okay Jeremy. All of us, we're going to be okay."