Four of them stood in front of me, reeking of sweat and fear.
I howled, then chased after them, growling and snapping.
They ran like scared sheep, bolting and tripping over one another as they tried to flee.
We ran past the trap they’d set up for the Pack. I recognized it as something hunter made. Hunter trap spells are unique in that they have a net-like appearance to them, and while they didn’t operate as shields—they couldn’t stop anything magical from getting through—they were excellent physical barriers. Even the strongest of wolves wouldn’t be able to bust out of one that was properly prepared by several hunters and anchored—as these unfortunately were.
The hunters had then released a fae sleeping spell inside the trap, which had knocked out every wolf they’d caught.
I hadn’t been with the Pack when they were first captured—I was just slightly behind them as I’d stopped to sniff Pip before heading out.
I’d been able to attack the hunters from behind, but there were twenty-three of them.
I wasn’t going to beat those numbers.
Instead I’d done my best to split the group around the trap—making it harder for the hunters to get off a shot at me and not hit one of their own.
Not that they didn’t try.
A bullet narrowly missed my flank, and the hunter—who wielded a rifle—swore as he tried to track me.
I rammed into him—knocking him over—then grabbed his throat and crunched down. I didn’t savage his throat, but I used enough force to deal damage to his windpipe.
He flopped, uselessly trying to get air, and I jumped at the next hunter.
She tried to stab me with a silver edged dagger, but it was easy to dodge and ram her over with my wolf strength.
For wolves, a downed enemy was a defeated enemy. It made it much harder for them to fight back.
I grabbed her wrist with my mouth and bit down.
She cried and dropped her dagger.
I grabbed her hand next and crunched down again, likely breaking a few of her fingers.
She screamed in pain, and I knew she wouldn’t be picking up her weapon again.
I dropped her limb and leaped over her as she cried, curling up in a ball.
I locked eyes on the next hunter I needed to target, but most of my concentration switched to my ears for a moment.
I didn’t hear any wolves coming for us—or any shouts.
I don’t think help is coming. Pip would have felt the trap snap into place, and Amos isn’t here when these are very obviously his hunters. Which means there’s trouble back home as well.
If I wanted to free the Pack, I’d need to get to wherever the other fight was and find Pip—she’d know how to disassemble the traps.
But how do I best tackle this so they don’t hurt any of the knocked out Pack members? I already know the likelihood that I survive this isn’t good, but the Pack needs to make it.
I howled, and tried leading the hunters away from the trap. If I was going down, I was going to try to take out as many as possible, and keep them away from the rest of the Pack as long as possible.
Chapter 22
Pip
Ready? I texted the message to Original Jack and waited, holding my breath.
The reply flickered across my lock screen. Ready.
I put my phone away in my deep pockets, exhaled, and rolled my shoulders back.
This will be a cinch. I fool wolves all the time, and they can smell fear in me. Distracting a bunch of hunters is totally doable.
I checked my weapons—my gun was still in its holster, and both my daggers were sheathed—then strode out into the open meadow, doing my best to look irritated, but not hostile.
“Amos!” I hollered as I stomped across the lawn. “What do you think you’re doing?”
I blew past a hunter, who couldn’t seem to figure out if he was supposed to stop me or not.
“Hunter Sabre,” Radcliff called. I’m certain he did it on purpose, because as soon as he named me the hunters eyeing me relaxed and went back to watching the wolves.
It’s nice that they’re not going to shoot at me, but I wish they’d pay less attention to their trap so Amelia and the Jacks can move.
Amos laughed as I strode up to him, reigniting my anger so it ate up most of my fear. “Good evening to you, Hunter Sabre.”
“Stop screwing around, and tell me what you’re doing. I won’t hesitate to clock you again.” I made my voice extra loud for the threat, and succeeded in drawing attention back to me.
It worked marvelously. Too well, in fact. All but two of the hunters strode in our direction—the remaining two stayed by the trap, but they were watching us, and didn’t see when Amelia and Young Jack crawled out of the forest, making a beeline for the trap.
“You seem to enjoy confrontation, Hunter Sabre,” Amos said.
“Not at all,” I said. “I just can’t stand idiots and injustice. What are you doing?”
“Pip—just go! Get help!” Wyatt shouted—he was one of the only wolves who hadn’t shifted by this point.
“Thanks for the advice, but I’ll pass,” I said without removing my eyes from Amos. “Spill it.”
Amos spread his arms wide. “We’re doing what has to be done since the Regional Committee of Magic won’t act.”
“That’s a vague enough statement to mean anything. I already know you’re searching the lodge, and you’ve got the Pack pinned. Is this because you’re still upset the Pre-Dominant closed the case when you wanted to keep playing detective?”
Amos slipped a dagger off his belt and brandished it in my direction. “Careful, Sabre. I’m in a good mood, but not so good that I won’t stop to teach you a lesson.”
So he’s less tolerant of me than he is of the humans. Good to know. But if I back down too much, his people are going to lose interest.
I propped my hands on my hips. “Just tell me what you’re doing, Amos.”
“Why, I’m doing exactly what I told you I’d do. I’m finding out what the Northern Lakes Pack is hiding!” Amos announced.
“They’re not hiding anything!”
“Oh, they are,” Amos assured me. “They must be—to be going against nature as they do!”
I lifted my chin up, practically daring him to start a fight with my mulish expression. “Fine. Then tell me what illicit things you’ve found since you started your search.” I waited for a moment, and was about to launch into a snarky take down of their useless search, when Amos surprised me.
“Oh, we’ve found plenty, Hunter Sabre.” He put his dagger back into place on his belt. “I thought the Northern Lakes Pack was dealing in wolfsbane, but I was thinking too small. They’ve got encrypted files—from the Pre-Dominant herself.”
“So?” I asked. “Greyson is the obvious choice for her heir apparent. She—”
“These files were first sent to Alpha Hudson,” Amos interrupted.
I hesitated.