Hot Blooded

We finally zeroed in on the least treacherous, most passable road we could find, the one gaining the most altitude according to our state-of-the-art GPS, and followed it to the end.

It was damn lucky there was no snow on the ground. Even in the gargantuan Humvee, chains wouldn’t have been enough. The ruts we had to maneuver around were five feet deep in places, and a few times we had to move trees out of the road to get by.

Strength came in handy.

The road had stopped abruptly at the end of what appeared to be a solid wall of old growth pine forest. The trees towered above us, swaying and rocking in the high altitude. The sun edged toward the horizon, the sky changing to a pale orange above the treetops as we pulled to a stop.

I was absolutely starving. I’d been a long day with little breaks. “Well, it appears we’ve finally reached the mysterious end of the road.” I killed the ignition. We’d volleyed driving during the day,

but I’d taken the wheel when the boys had gotten out to remove obstacles. “I hope this the right road, or we’re pretty much screwed. Getting out of here and recharting our course will take too much time and we’d lose nighttime tracking hours with the vamps.”

“It has to be the right one.” Tyler opened his door. “This was the only logical choice.”

“I’m glad you’re so very confident,” I said. “The fourth time must be the charm. Let’s get out and stock the packs with food and water before the vamps arrive; then we can try to check in with Dad on the sat phone.” We were out of range from our minds. Neither of us knew how the brain thing actually worked, but apparently it had a range if we weren’t in our wolf form. The connection to our Alpha in our true form was instant, but neither of us had time to change right now. If the sat phone didn’t work, we’d have to reevaluate.

I jumped off the running board, went around to the back, and popped open the hatch—meaning I

manhandled the heavy door open.

Tyler strode up beside me. “Packs and supplies are in the green bins.” He reached over and hoisted a huge container out of the back like it weighed nothing and set it on the ground.

My stomach growled. I slid the cooler into the empty space he’d just created. It was huge and metal, likely industrial-strength U.S. military grade, capable of keeping things cold for a year. I

opened the top and glanced inside. It was full of specialized high-protein meals and shakes made especially for our high metabolisms. The meals were settled on a thick bed of dry ice. They spoiled quickly once they were opened, so the ice was necessary, but the food was nasty as hell at any temperature. Through the clear packaging, they resembled lumps of canned dog food and unfortunately smelled just as bad. I’d sampled them for fun growing up, but back then I hadn’t needed to eat them in order to survive. Now was another story. And since my hunger was insatiable, I had to suck it up. The meals were designed to break down very slowly and curb hunger for a substantial amount of time, but I fished around for a protein shake instead, which was nice and cold because of the dry ice. I’d work my way into the meals.

I plucked out a shake and popped the lid.

Danny walked over. “If you don’t fancy the protein mush, I’ve brought along some other samplings.” He reached in and grabbed a large navy duffel, slid it closer, and unzipped the top.

Inside, filled to the absolute brim, were packages of beef jerky, candy bars, and sunflower seeds.

“You’ve always been my favorite wolf.” I grabbed a few candy bars and tossed one to Ray, who was rounding the side. “Eat up, Ray. You’re going to need to keep up your strength. We’ve got a lot of hiking to do and some of it will be extremely difficult.”

He snatched it out of the air. “What kind of a meal is a Milky Way?” He looked down at the candy bar in his hand with confusion. “Aren’t we going to make camp?”

“This is not a camping trip, Ray,” I said. “We keep moving until we find our destination. As far as the candy bar is concerned, consider yourself lucky I didn’t offer you a dead rabbit to eat raw. The boys can’t shift to hunt, so our meals have to be strategic. A wolf, even in human form, burns up to ten times as many calories as you do just breathing.” I pointed to the cooler. “You’re welcome to eat the mush, but I doubt you’ll be able to keep it down. It’s dense and meant to sit like a rock in your belly.

But consider yourself lucky that Danny was thinking like a champ and brought a bagful of goodies,

and there are protein shakes in the cooler. You’re not going to starve.”

Without meeting my eye Ray tore off the candy bar wrapper and took a bite. He chewed for a second and then glanced at me. “You guys turning into animals doesn’t make sense to me,” he grumbled. “If you’ve been running around for eons, why isn’t there any evidence? I’ve been a police officer for eighteen years and there has never been so much as a whisper of a supernatural being. Now that I know, you guys seem to be all over the place. How in the hell do you keep it quiet?”

“There’s evidence if you look in the right places, mate. Most humans just don’t want to see what’s right smack in front of them. Didn’t you read any fairy tales when you were a lad?” Danny asked.

“Back in the day, those same fairy tales were considered oral recountings, not myth and legend.

Populations were sparse and people lived in small villages. If you had a troll living under your bridge, everyone in the community knew about it—and stayed away from the bloody bridge if they didn’t want to get eaten. But when the villages grew by leaps and bounds, and the humans began to outnumber us a hundred to one, many supernaturals were forced to go to ground. It takes only a few well-placed pitchforks and one angry mob to get the point well across. Eventually we were all officially ordered underground. It was the only option left shy of an all-out war with the humans. That was hundreds of years ago. Now the only ones who remember the old days are us, and the only thing marking history are in your children’s books. But if you’re still on the fence about our existence, I’d be happy to show you a thing or two.” Danny grinned. “I’m pretty good at regulated fur growth.”

Ray grimaced. “I’m going to take a leak.” He turned abruptly toward the trees and wandered away without looking back.

I bent over and opened the bin on the ground. “Let’s get this stuff packed,” I said. “The vamps should be here soon.”

Tyler, Danny, and I stuffed our backpacks with as much as they would hold: food, water, clothes,

and essentials. The truck would be home base if it took longer to find Selene. If we wanted to, we could simply strap a mini fridge on our backs. Weight wasn’t an issue, but you can’t defend against an attack with a fridge strapped to your back.

The sky darkened around us, the sun dipping below the horizon. Tyler went into the woods to sample the air and scout the path. Ray perched on a dead log wrapped in his own thoughts. I stood from where I’d been sitting on the edge of the bumper as the last of the daylight flooded from the sky, expecting the vamps’ imminent arrival. “Danny, are you—”

The pack I’d been holding in my hands slid from my grasp.

I collapsed to my knees in the next breath.

My wolf snarled, barking fiercely in my mind.

It’s… another spell attack, I said to her. Like the one we had last night. But she already knew. The red lines amassed themselves quickly in my mind as my wolf snapped and ripped at them as fast as she could.

My body began to lock up, and I watched in horror as my hands and fingers became engulfed in red. The spell spread like scarlet vines up my arms. This time it was happening much quicker. Fuckity, fuck, fuck. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were shutting down. Danny’s shocked face hovered above mine.

Was I lying on my back?

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Danny yelled, but it sounded like he was under water.

I closed my eyes.

Someone shook me. “Hannon, wake the fuck up. You’re turning red.”

“Hold on to her arms,” Tyler barked, but he sounded muffled and far away.

I convulsed. I felt it, but I was only vaguely aware. My wolf howled. I tried to hold on to consciousness, but I was losing focus fast. My wolf ripped at more of the lines, snarling wildly. We have to share power and attack it together, or we can’t win. Without coupling our strength, we wouldn’t make it. She growled at me, still attacking the sea of red in front of her with single-minded intent.

The entire spell meshed together like a honeycomb of lines, and I knew once it coated my mind completely