The Alpha's Mate (12 page)

Max smiled weakly. “I do believe you
would.”

“Just let them try, sister. Just let them
try.”

She went to the sink to give the cloth
another rinse and paused to swallow her own tears. They would do
nothing to help her friend.

Once she had herself back under control, she
started on Max’s legs. Her bare feet and lower legs were scraped as
if she’d been dragged across the ground, but showed none of the
battering of her upper torso. She raised Max’s skirt up high on her
thighs and was relieved to find her panties intact with no outward
signs of abuse.

“Thank you, God,” Elizabeth whispered and the
tears she’d tried so hard to hold back fell onto her friend’s bare
legs.

“I thanked him, too.” Max’s hand stroked her
hair, comforting the comforter. “They were going to and then one of
them said, “No, that’s not on my agenda.” They stopped and grabbed
my hands and started dragging me. When I realized where they were
taking me, I thought they were going to throw me into the ravine.
You stopped them.”

Was that their intent? Had she interrupted
them? Then why throw the clod of dirt at the door?

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed and then we’ll
decide what to do.”

Half way to the bedroom, Max groaned, buckled
over vomited. This time, it was bright red. Elizabeth cleaned her
up as quickly as possible and got her into bed.

“I’m going for help. Something’s wrong, Max,
and you need to get to a hospital.”

“No. Stay. Not safe.” Max gripped her arm,
but there was no strength to it. “Marshall. Marshall’ll come.”

“Yes he will, sweetheart. We’ll call an
ambulance and come right back.”

“No. Don’t leave me.” Max’s eyes closed and
fluttered open again. “Afraid. Marshall’ll come.”

“Yes he will,” she said again. “Here. You
keep the knife.” She laid it on the covers beside Max’s hand. “I’ll
be back as soon as I can.

Max’s eyes rolled back in her head before
they closed.

Elizabeth knew she had to get help. She was
sure Max would die without it. She ran to the kitchen drawer where
the flashlight was stored and found it empty. Where, where, where
had she left it? The last time she saw it was the night of the
snake. She wasted precious minutes in fruitless searching, grabbed
her broom as a weapon and ran for the door. With the light from the
moon, she should be able to see well enough to make her way, but
whoever had attacked Max might still be out there. At the door she
hesitated and ran back to the fireplace. She traded her broom for
the poker.

She ran across the moonlit yard and through
the opening between the roses as if the hounds of hell were on her
heels. Darkness descended with the cover of the trees. Faint
patches of pale light danced here and there along the trail where
the moon filtered through the branches. It was barely enough to
find her way. She slowed to a quick walk. Running would only send
her tripping over a root and over the edge into who knew what.
Breaking her ankle wouldn’t help Max. Setting a steady pace, she
marched into the darkness.

She had never been the kind of child who
needed a nightlight. She’d never worried about taking her trash out
to the dumpster at 11 PM. She’d never been afraid of the dark. The
dark couldn’t hurt you. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Strange sounds surrounded her as she made her
way along the trail. She paused and held her breath every time she
heard a leaf move or a twig snap. Before she came here, she’d
always thought of night in the country as silent. It wasn’t. There
were creatures out there moving in the darkness. She could hear
them clearly. The hair on the back of her neck rose. Was she being
watched?

No, she decided, it wasn’t the darkness she
was afraid of. It was the things that shared the darkness with
her.

As the minutes passed, she began to grow
accustomed to the sounds. She was still frightened, still felt like
she was being watched, but she could now separate some sounds from
others.

That faint swoosh from high in the trees was
probably an owl silently taking off to attack its unsuspecting
prey. Her suspicions were confirmed a few seconds later when a
short, sharp animal scream pierced the night. Unforgiving Mother
Nature at work.

An extended rustle of leaves to the left told
her the maker was small and waddling, certainly not big enough to
cause her harm.

“Remember,” she said aloud. “These animals
are more afraid of you than you are of them. They fear man.”

She squeaked when something scurried onto the
trail. A raccoon stopped and rose up on hind legs to glare at her
before moving on.

“Okay, whoever said that lied. These things
aren’t the least bit intimidated. On the other hand,” she reasoned,
“It didn’t attack. Keep moving. You have to be halfway there.
You’ll get help. Everything will be fine.”

The sound of her own voice reassured her and
she thought about singing, but…

Two short chuffs sounded uphill on her right.
The something on her left gave a startled cheep and scurried off
downhill. The smaller creature wasn’t afraid of her, but it was
afraid of whatever was snorting up above and if it was afraid,
maybe she should be, too.

It snorted again and she felt a chill run up
her spine. The already stiffened hairs at the back of her neck rose
to new heights. She raised the poker up with two hands and kept
walking.

She moved as quickly as her unsteady feet and
half blind eyes would allow. A twig snapped. There was a high,
quick yip, almost like a dog’s followed by a snarl and a snapping
of jaws.

They couldn’t be more than ten feet away and
they were keeping pace with her. They were making no effort to hide
their presence. The constant snorts and chuffs sounded almost like
laughter.

She saw a light in the distance, a flickering
yellow dot in the center of the trail. A lantern? Wild animals were
afraid of fire, she thought and then she remembered the wolves
outside the burning barn. It didn’t matter. Heedless of the roots
and rocks, she ran for the light.

Chapter 12

Something big came crashing down from the
hill above. She heard a snarl and the smacking thud of one body
hitting another. More snarls, yips and growls followed. It was a
repeat of the night of the fire. One pack defending its territory
from another?

Let them rip each other to shreds. She wasn’t
going to hang around and watch. She ran toward the light, poker
resting on her shoulder.

She heard a snarl behind her and turned in
time to see the creature leap, its gaping jaw exposing teeth made
for tearing. Without conscious thought, Elizabeth gripped the poker
with both hands and swung. The homerun hit caught the animal in the
side with a sickening thud. She saw its eyes widen with surprise as
it tumbled to the ground. She didn’t wait to see how much damage
she’d done. She turned and ran.

The second beast hit her like a freight
train. One minute she was running upright, the next she was
tumbling down the mountainside. Fur over flesh, they fell through
the underbrush, smacking hip and shoulder and back against the
rocks and dirt beneath.

Her scream emerged from her mouth as only a
whoosh of breath as she was slammed against a tree. She was vaguely
aware of her furry attacker fighting against the fall, its feet
scrambling for purchase. With a lunge, it tried to pull away.

The lunging animal was off balance and its
twisting leap threw it into a narrow trunked tree. There was a bone
splintering crack and the animal went slack. Until that moment,
Elizabeth hadn’t realized she was the one preventing the animal’s
escape to safety. Her hands were buried in the creature’s ruff. She
tumbled past, her fall momentarily halted by wolf and tree. She
started to fall again, this time sliding rather than tumbling down
the slope. She was still hanging onto the now limp body and the
dead weight of it slowed her further until she came to a gentle and
controlled stop.

After the fright and frenzy of the fall, the
calm that followed was even more unnerving. There was no noise from
above; no growls, snarls or cries of pain. Where were they? What
would she find if she crawled back up to the trail? Had the wolves
run off as they had the night of the fire?

“Lizzie!” The voice was strong and not too
far away.

Marshall? He was the only one who called her
Lizzie. “Marshall! I’m here. Down the slope.” She could see a
flicker of light up above and started crawling toward it, circling
the body of the wolf, not quite believing the creature was
dead.

He met her halfway and immediately ran his
hands over her face, arms and body and then held her to his naked
chest.

“Where’s Max?” His voice held an edge of
panic.

Elizabeth wanted to wrap her arms around him,
accept his comfort and comfort him in return, but there wasn’t
time. “She’s at the Home Place. Oh, Marshall, she’s in terrible
shape. She said I had to get you. That’s why I was on the trail.
You need to go to her. Now. I’ll be okay. I’ll catch up. Please
Marshall.” Now that her job was done, she started to cry, but she
snuffled it back. “Don’t let her die.”

“Henry!” Marshall called up the hill and at
the answering call, he turned back to Elizabeth. “Stay here until
Henry comes to get you.” He started up the hill.

“I’ll be okay, really.” She stared up the
hill after him.

He turned and said sharply, “Dammit woman.
For once, will you do what you’re told? Stay still.”

The power in his voice brought her up short.
She stayed where she was and gripped a small tree for balance as
she watched Marshall’s dark form disappear into the darkness of the
night. She didn’t move again until she heard Henry’s voice.

“I’m coming, Henry.” She fell to her knees
and started to crawl up the slope. “Oh, shit!” Her left hand hit
fur, muzzle, teeth. Another dead wolf.

“Miz Elizabeth?”

“I’m okay, okay.”

Henry was suddenly beside her, his hand on
her arm. “This way,” he said and led her zigzagging up the slope.
He kept a tight grip on her arm to keep her from sliding back
down.

Elizabeth heard movement in the woods around
them and clutched Henry’s arm. He patted her hand gently.

“They’re ours.”

When they reached the trail, he turned them
toward Marshall’s and started to walk.

“No. Wrong way.” She pulled against Henry’s
arm. It was like pulling on a tree trunk, but he stopped. “We need
to get to the Home Place.”

“Marshall said to take you to our place.”

She could hear the indecision in his voice.
“I’m not going to run and hide when someone I care about may need
me. Could you, if Marshall was injured, maybe dying.”

Elizabeth started off toward the Home Place
with a show of confidence she didn’t really feel, particularly when
Henry started off in the other direction. She let out the breath
she’d been holding when the glow of the lantern encircled her
feet.

“Marshall said you know about us,” he said
drawing up beside her.

“I do,” she said, although what their love
life had to do with this she didn’t understand.

He nodded as if that settled it. “One of us
is going to get their ass chewed over this and I’m thinking it
ain’t going to be you.”

“Oh please. Just tell him I refused to
cooperate. You can’t make me go where I don’t want to.”

Henry snickered at that. “Yeah,” he said as
he looked her up and down. “Like he’s going to believe that.”

He started down the trail and Elizabeth had
to jog to keep up. The light from the lantern cleared a few feet
ahead, but she couldn’t have moved nearly as fast without Henry’s
sure footed guidance.

“Watch that root. Got a dip coming up. Edge
is soft on the right.” He issued warnings every few feet and
Elizabeth got the impression that without her, he’d be sprinting.
Twice he stopped, cocked his head to the side and listened to a
distant howl from the woods before moving on.

Twice as fast as she’d done it alone, they
were at the end of the trail and entering her yard. She was on
surer ground here and she sprinted for the house. Henry caught her
shoulder as she reached the stairs.

“It’s all right, Henry. I heard you coming.”
Marshall was at the screen door. He pushed it open and came out on
the porch. His skin was drawn tightly around his mouth and his eyes
were circled with dark shadows. His shoulders slumped.

Elizabeth thought the worst. “Is she…?” She
couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

“She’s alive.” He looked at Henry and
frowned.

Henry raised his hands defensively. “I know,
I know. Try telling her.” He poked his chin at Elizabeth. “She’s as
stubborn as you are.”

Elizabeth didn’t think that was quite fair.
Henry hadn’t argued all that strongly against her decision.

Marshall swung his head in her direction and
glared. He straightened his shoulders and his head came up. He
suddenly looked taller, broader, more powerful.

“When I give an order, I expect it to be
obeyed.”

At the strength of his voice, Elizabeth felt
herself shrink down on the step. She frowned and made a conscious
effort to square her shoulders and stand straight. He expected to
be obeyed, did he? She’d had plenty of practice facing down scarier
bullies than he. He hadn’t met her mother.

“Just who do you think you’re talking to,
buster? This is my house, rent paid in full and if there’s any
ordering to be done in it, I’ll be doing it.” Take that bully
boy!

Marshall’s jaw was clenched so tight she
thought his teeth might crack. Henry had turned away and she heard
him make a funny, snorty sort of sound through his nose as if he
might be stifling a laugh. Elizabeth put her hands on her hips.