Frostbitten

HITCHHIKER

AS I CHASED Eddie, I heard a distant yelp from Tesler, followed by a growl of frustration from Clay, meaning he'd caught and lost his prey. I instinctively started swerving that way, then stopped myself.

Yes, I wanted to be the one to kill Tesler. Part of me desperately needed to be. But to do so, I had to abandon the greater threat. The good of the Pack came first, and killing Eddie was in the Pack's best interests.

That didn't stop me from hoping Eddie would run toward his brother, but he was too smart for that. He was heading in the opposite direction, dividing Clay and me.

And as hard as I strained to hear signs that Antonio was on his way and could take over the chase, I knew that wouldn't happen either. It didn't matter how much killing experience Reese had, Antonio wouldn't leave him to do the job alone. And Nick's only experience was as part of a group, following someone else's lead. So his father would stay, trusting that Clay and I could handle our targets alone.

When I heard the sound of a motor, I smiled. We were coming to a road. Once Eddie realized that, he'd change direction.

Instead, he picked up speed. Ahead, I saw a truck barreling down a road, snow sluicing up chest high on both sides. It passed before Eddie reached the edge, so he didn't need to check his speed to cross.

By the time I reached one edge, he was past the other and zipping back into the endless forest. The road was empty, but pitted with enough tracks to suggest it was what passed for a major artery out here, probably the road that linked to the highway.

I crossed and followed Eddie into the forest. Before long, I caught the faint whiff of exhaust. Sure enough, we'd circled around and were heading back to the same road.

Had he decided to return to the cottage? Or try to find his brother? God, I hoped so, because at this rate, I wasn't catching him unless he tripped.

Eddie ran less than twenty paces past the road, then circled through the woods and headed back toward it.

What the hell was he doing?

The answer hit with the buzz of another motor. Eddie was trapped. Eddie was smart. Eddie had no intention of risking his life to fight me-he was interested in survival, not belt notches. So what would he do? The same thing Reese had done in Pittsburgh: take refuge with humans.

But again he dashed onto the road in front of the car, then made no effort to stop it, just disappeared into the forest. Was he trying to use the traffic to slow me down? If so, it wasn't working. The car was a compact, grinding along, spitting up snow, moving at the pace of a fast walk. I easily crossed in front of it, and the driver didn't even seem to see me, too intent on staring at the road right in front of him, struggling to get through the snow.

Eddie continued running into the woods. And as could be predicted by this point, he didn't stay there, instead circling wide and heading back for that road. I was sorely tempted to just stand in the middle of it and wait for him.

It was then that I finally figured out what he was doing. I had only a split second to realize it before we heard another vehicle-a pickup truck this time-and, as I expected, Eddie looped around, coming out right behind the passing truck.

He'd been crisscrossing the road waiting for the right vehicle, pulling a version of his brother's "hop on the train" trick. Now, admittedly, over the last few days my brain hadn't been running on all cylinders, courtesy of Eddie's rapist thug brother, but I wasn't completely brain dead yet. I'd realized his ruse just in time, and when he tore out behind that passing truck, he didn't find an open pickup bed in his path. He found a werewolf who was a little tired of letting her prey escape.

He tried to race around me. I grabbed him and hauled him into the forest. We fought. Spurred on by the boost of actually catching him-and the potential humiliation of losing him-I won. I snapped his neck. A short fight and a quick death, neither worth much comment. I dragged his body a little deeper, into the woods covered him in brush, made a note of the spot to bury him later, then ran back to find Clay and Tesler.

ONCE I WAS back in the forest, locating Clay was easy-just follow the sounds of battle. As I drew closer, I realized it was more a struggle than a battle-one struggling to start a fight and the other struggling to avoid it. First came the thump of a blow. Then a grunt. Then a scuffle and a curse. Then the pounding of running footsteps. Another thump, grunt, scuffle, curse.

Sure enough, I found Clay hot on Tesler's heels. He'd catch up enough to punch him, maybe grab a fold of his shirt, but Tesler always scrambled free and started running again. Or he did, until he found me standing in his path.

Clay pulled up short behind him and grinned a greeting.

"Looking for a little more action, darling?"

"Doesn't seem like you're getting any. What's the matter, Travis? I thought you were just itching for this. Eddie's plan worked. Clay's right there. Go ahead. Have some fun. Or did you forget your camera?"

"Was that the plan?" Clay said. "Let me guess. Lure me in. Carve me up. Take photos. Pass them around to prove what badass motherfuckers you are." He shook his head. "Mutts. Not an original idea in their thick skulls. But sure, we can do that, Travis. I'll even send Elena back to get your camera. Just step on over here and we'll get started."

Tester's gaze shot to the side, checking and rejecting escape routes. Then he looked over my head.

"Your brother isn't coming," I said.

"Well, you sure as hell didn't kill him," Travis said. "He'd have left a mark, and I don't see any, except that broken finger from earlier."

"They broke your finger?" Clay said.

"Yes, while you were outside preparing your dramatic entrance."

"Shit. Sorry, darling. You want to take one of his?"

"Your brother is dead," I said. "The only marks he left were bruises, and I've got enough of those that a few more don't matter."

He eyed me, as if he didn't quite believe this. Too bad. If he thought Eddie was coming to his rescue, all the better for us when he found out otherwise.

"So you're going to team up against me?" he said finally. "That's not fair."

"No? All right, then. Choose your opponent."

He looked from Clay to me, and sneered. "You think I'm falling for that? If I even come close to taking out one of you, the other will jump in."

"And that's not fair. Because you're all about fair, aren't you, Travis? Pump yourself full of steroids to get that extra advantage. Just as cowardly as using a gun, which I'm sure you'd do, too, if you'd thought to grab one."

"I've never used a gun-"

"And you've never had backup either, have you? When you fought me, your little brother didn't jump in and save your ass. I was hallucinating."

He glowered. "That was different. You were our captive. We had a plan."

"And right now, you're our captive." I smiled. "And guess what? We have a plan, too. It's almost a carbon copy of yours. Only in ours, you're the one who dies and gets his picture taken, shoring up our reputations. Now pick your poison."

He looked from me to Clay and back again. I was the obvious choice-smaller, less experienced and already battered from earlier. But he kept looking, kept thinking.

"I choose… "

Another slow look from me to Clay, then he wheeled, snapping off the nearest branch and lunging at Clay. I leapt forward. Clay leapt back. Neither of us was fast enough. Tesler plunged the jagged stick into Clay's chest. Then he ran.

I raced over to Clay as he staggered back.

"Go after him," he said, as I dropped in front of him.

"No."

"Elena."

"No!" I snarled the word. That shut him up. The branch still protruded from his chest. It wasn't as big as I thought, less than an inch diameter. If anything, though, that made it worse-thinner and sharper, like an arrow. As I fumbled with his jacket, he reached up to pull the branch out.

"Don't," I said.

"Darling, it's not-"

"Don't!"

"I'm fine. Go after him. This is what he wanted."

"Then I guess it's what he's going to get."

My voice quavered as badly as my hands now. I'd been so afraid of being raped by Tesler. Did I think that was the worst he could do to me? No. There was something far worse, and I'd been such a fool, working myself up over that, letting him scare me, letting fear slow me down, when I could have killed him, and I wouldn't be here now, shaking so bad I couldn't get Clay's jacket undone.

"Elena, I'm okay."

He tried grabbing my hands. I knocked his away with a mumbled apology, telling him to stay still, don't move, don't do anything.

The branch had gone through the jacket, meaning I couldn't easily get it off without dislodging the stick. Rule one of dealing with impalements-don't pull out the object because it might be the only thing keeping you from bleeding to death.

I worked his jacket and bloodied shirt off enough to see the wound. Then I let out a long, shuddering sigh. My eyes filled and I swiped at them. The second time in one night I'd come close to crying. A record for me. But even as I blinked angrily, a tear rolled down my cheek. Clay tugged off his glove and wiped it away.

"Did I say I was okay?" he murmured.

I nodded.

"Still don't trust me, huh?"

I choked a laugh. He was right-at least the part about being okay. The down-filled jacket stopped most of Tester's thrust, knocking Clay over, but otherwise doing little damage. The stick had only penetrated about a half inch, and in the fleshy part of his shoulder.

"Can I pull it out now?" he asked.

I did it for him, carefully, so I wouldn't leave any splinters. Blood gushed. I pressed his glove to it and the flow slowed to a trickle. Clay peeled my fingers from the glove, taking over.

"Now will you go after that bastard? Before he gets away? I'm right behind you."

I nodded, pushed to my feet, gave him one last look, then took off.

I CAUGHT UP with Tesler. It wasn't hard. He figured I was busy saving Clay's life, so he ran straight for the nearest snowmobile shed. I found him trying to hot-wire his getaway vehicle. We fought. Again, it wasn't hard. If I was in rough shape, he was just as bad, and I had fear on my side-his fear. His gang was dead, his brother was dead and he was on his own. Travis Tesler wasn't accustomed to being alone.

As for my own fear, the last traces of it had evaporated when Clay had been stabbed. Rape I could survive. I'd do almost anything in my power to avoid it. Almost anything. The one thing I wouldn't do was put my family at risk.

Nick had said I was allowed to have a soft spot. I'd been certain I had only one, and Tesler had found it. But there were more ways to hurt me. Come after Clay. Come after my children. Come after my Pack.

Those were weaknesses I couldn't overcome. I shouldn't. I'd thought an Alpha should be invulnerable, but that was ridiculous. What kind of Alpha would Jeremy be if he didn't care what happened to his Pack?

I had soft spots. Mutts would always target them. All I could do was shore up my defenses. Protect my Pack. Protect my children. Protect my mate. And, yes, protect myself.

Now I had in my sights a man who'd threatened all of that. This time, though, he was afraid and I wasn't, and that made all the difference. Having a broken finger didn't help-he wasn't the only one who felt pain when my punches connected-but finally I hauled him out of the snowmobile shed. He broke free just as Clay caught up.

Tesler charged me, and charged me again, not even bothering to change angle, let alone tactic. I sidestepped and wiped blood from my nose, the droplets spraying the snow. As Tesler recovered and wheeled, I glanced at Clay. He had his arms crossed, face immobile, only his eyes betraying his concern.

"I've got him," I said.

"I know."

Tesler charged again. I sidestepped. This time, though, my left foot slipped and, had Tesler been quicker, he would have spun and taken me down. As it was, he tried, but I managed to dance out of the way.

My heart thumped. Not fear. Exhilaration. Tesler was still standing, but I had him, and he knew it. I could tell by the set of his jaw. The wild look in his eyes. The desperation in each charge. He was a wounded bull making his last stand.

Clay crossed and uncrossed his arms, holding himself in check. I knew what it must be like for him, watching me, knowing how tired I was, how every muscle ached. He was still fresh and spoiling for a fight, and he longed to take over this one for me.

Yes, this felt good. It felt so damned good. But Clay was right. I was taking chances, and it was time to end this.

When Tesler charged again, I started to dance out of the way, then shot out my foot and tripped him. I jumped onto his back, grabbed his hair and ground his face into the dirt and blood-streaked snow.

Then I thought of all the ways I could kill him.

Clay had killed that mutt thirty years ago to cement his reputation. If I was worried about being accepted as Alpha, here was a way to solve the problem. Prove I was just as crazy, just as sadistic and just as dangerous as Clay.

If that was my entire purpose in making Tesler suffer, then I could have done it. But Clay hadn't made that mutt suffer. He'd knocked him out with anesthetic before he even knew what was happening. He wasn't crazy. He wasn't sadistic. Dangerous, yes, but not in the way they thought.

Clay wasn't a monster. But if I tortured Tesler because I wanted him to die horribly, that would make me one.

I glanced over at Clay. "Do you want him? You did want to make an example of a mutt again."

That got Tesler's attention. Until now, he'd been still. Not surrendering, I was sure. Just resting as I contemplated my next move. Now he bucked. But I saw that one coming, and easily kept him pinned, grinding his face into the ground again for good measure.

When I glanced at Clay, though, he said, "Nah, too much bother. I just want to go home."

"So do I."

I grabbed Tesler's hair, ready to snap his neck.

"Wait!" he said.

I leaned over him. "Got a few last words, Travis? Unless they're 'I'm sorry,' I don't really want to hear them."

"Sorry?" He sneered. "Is that what you want from me? An apology for hurting you?"

"No, not particularly. I've had those. They don't do much good."

I thought of the letter and, for the first time since it arrived, the memory didn't make my stomach clench. I didn't accept that apology and I damned well wasn't going to feel guilty about it. But I wouldn't send a nasty letter back. Just silence, and in that, he'd know he wasn't forgiven. And if he suffered more guilt for what he'd done? That was fine by me.

"What I'd like an apology for is the others," I said. "For Dennis, who never did a damned thing to you. For those girls, whose only mistake was looking for a little fun. And for all the other girls you raped and murdered before you came here. I'd like to hear an apology for them, but I know you won't give it and I know they wouldn't want it. So we're going to skip those final words-"

"I'll join the Pack."

"What?"

"You need recruits. I heard that. I'll join."

I couldn't help laughing. "And what makes you think we'd let-"

"I'm a damned fine fighter. I'll fight for the Pack and you'll own my ass. That's the price I'll pay for my life."

"How… noble. Really. Only one problem. That damned fine fighter part. You're good, I'll give you that. But I still beat you."

"You had help. I could have taken you. Back in the cabin, I had you beat until he showed up."

"No, you and Eddie had me. Without Eddie, you'd have been screwed. So we both had help. But in the end? You were outsmarted, outlasted and outfought. As much crap as you pumped into your body, it didn't change the fact that at heart you're a coward who likes to beat up helpless humans."

He bucked and snarled. "That's not about fighting. It's-"

"About sex? Hell, no. It's not about sex, Travis. It's about dominance. And, apparently, the only women you can dominate are helpless ones. Put you up against a female of your own species and look what happened. Outmatched." I leaned down, and lowered my voice. "And outclassed."

I snapped his neck.