Cold pools of liquid onyx stared out from sunken sockets ringed with spiderwebs of blue veins. The creature opened his mouth wide to roar at her, stretching his waxy, sallow skin across cheekbones sharp enough to cut steel. His right fang had been broken clear up to the gumline, and streaks of crimson smeared across his mouth and down his neck.
He barked at her, a sound somewhere between man and animal, as he slammed his head into the window three times in quick succession. There might have been some rudimentary intelligence there, but she could find no trace of the humanity he had once possessed.
The male yelled again, this time battering his fist against her window in his attempt to reach her. The glass shook and rippled, but it didn’t break, which only seemed to increase his agitation. His lips pulled back into a threatening snarl when Cade jerked the wheel to the left, but the swerving did little to dissuade him.
The maneuver had, however, dislodged the female on top of the vehicle. She flipped onto the windshield on her back, bouncing off it with a muffled thump before rolling down the hood and disappearing over the side. Mackenna winced when the SUV bounced with enough force to lift her out of her seat.
At the loss of his packmate, the male started to bark again, his expression a mask of pure rage as he drove his fist into the window over and over. On the third strike, the glass fissured, and on the fourth, it completely shattered, exploding inward and raining down over Mackenna’s lower body.
Reaching through the broken window, he swiped at her with long, hooked claws. Mackenna screamed and kicked out, connecting with his arm, his shoulder, and finally, his face. Still, he didn’t stop coming, didn’t stop reaching for her.
“Mack, get down!” Cade screamed at her over the roar of the wind that whipped around them. “Get out of the way.”
Dodging another swipe, she slid off the seat and wiggled down into the floorboard, making herself as small of a target as she could. In the next moment, the crack of a gunshot exploded in the cab, the sound devastating within the confined space. Her eardrums throbbed with pain, her eyes blurred for a moment, and every muscle in her body locked down so tight she thought her bones would break.
But Cade’s shot had found its target. The Ravager went instantly silent and stopped moving as his head snapped back and blood sprayed from his forehead. Then, almost in slow motion, his body sagged, and he fell backwards off the running board to vanish from view.
Cade cursed again as his eyes darted between her and the highway. “Are you okay?”
Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself up from the floorboard and climbed back into her seat. Her ears still rang, and her heart continued to race, but she hadn’t sustained any injuries, not even a nick from the broken glass.
“I’m okay. He didn’t get me.” She had to yell to be heard over the roar of the wind. “Are they always like that?”
There had been cautionary tales about wolves driven mad by pain, grief, or trauma going back as far as anyone could remember. If she believed all the stories, ancestral wolves had been wild, feral. They’d roamed forests and mountains in large packs, unhindered by any societal rules except their own.
Hearing stories and seeing it with her own eyes were two completely different things. That so easily could have been her. She could have been one of those monsters that stalked the night, rabid and savage, driven by only the most basic of instincts.
“No, they’re not all like that,” Cade answered. “I’ve seen some who are aware, but they can’t control their impulses. I’ve seen others who are basically zombies, incapable of any kind of rational or intelligent thought.”
Mackenna considered that for a moment. “So, it’s progressive.”
“That’s what we think.” Safe now, Cade slowed the SUV, reducing some of the noise pollution within the cab. “They don’t usually come out in the day like that unless they’re desperate.”
“And they’re only wolves?”
Cade shook his head. “Most of them, but not all. I’ve seen a few vampire Ravagers. They’re less common, but they do exist.”
“Shifters?”
“Maybe. I haven’t seen any, but at this point, I don’t think anything would surprise me.” His tone wasn’t as cynical as the statement might suggest. He just sounded tired. “I used to hate them. I used to think they were just these disgusting monsters that needed to be put down. Now, I kind of feel sorry for them.”
Mackenna felt sorry for them, too. It wasn’t fair what had happened to them. They hadn’t asked for it. This had been done to them, and they were just doing what they had to do to survive. Feeding, fighting, and…
“Oh, shit,” she breathed. “What happens if they have pups? Do you think they’re born feral as well?” Would Ravagers even have the capacity to raise and care for their offspring?
“I have no idea.” Cade pressed his lips into a grim line and shook his head. “I don’t even want to think about that, to be honest.”
He was right. There was no use torturing herself with questions she couldn’t answer and situations she couldn’t change. “Do you think they could be cured?”
To his credit, he didn’t outright refuse the suggestion. After a few moments of contemplation, however, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. The virus didn’t make them feral, not directly, so I don’t think curing it will change them back. I think if they could shift, it would just make them more deadly.”
Mackenna winced at the mention of shifting. She knew she needed to tell him, and soon.
