Chapter 25
After two nights of not hearing the wolves, we began to relax in hopes that maybe they’d given up and turned back.
We emerged from the mountains to find the remains of a paved road that wound along beside the expansive, beautiful river stretching out in front of us.
I understood why Madame wanted to control the bridge.
If the dam wasn’t there, a person would have to travel far out of their way trying to find a way around the sprawling river.
Swimming seemed risky and would be impossible during the cold months.
Cinnamon’s hoofbeats sounded too loud on the pavement as they echoed off the growing cliff walls to our left.
It put me on edge. We could see the dam in the distance, but I couldn’t tell what kind of state it was in from so far away.
I wondered how long it would last. What would happen when it broke down?
It took half the day to reach the dam. The road had been carved out of the rocky cliffs, and fallen rocks littered the ground, ranging from pebbles to giant boulders.
We had to dismount and walk for most of it.
I went first, trying to find a safe path, and Trey followed, leading the horse.
She threw her head back and snorted, often fighting to pull away from Trey when rocks would move and shift underneath her hooves, but he coaxed her through it.
On the right side of us, the ground dropped into a steep hill down to the river.
I tried to ignore my anxiety about being trapped between the rocky wall and the edge of a cliff.
When we got closer to the bridge and the ground leveled, we mounted Cinnamon. I stared at the wall of concrete, speechless at its enormous size. How had they built something so huge? How had they kept the river back so they could build it?
“How did they—” I started to ask.
Cinnamon turned her head and jumped sideways a second before something leapt out from behind a boulder.
A giant wolf narrowly missed us with its snapping jaw, and the horse let out a terrified noise and took off at a gallop.
I shrieked, clinging to the saddle horn, and Trey swore as he grabbed on to me with one arm and fumbled for his gun with the other.
Behind us, howling and barking filled the air, spurring the horse on even faster, and I managed to glance behind to see more than half a dozen huge grey wolves pursuing us.
“Hold on!” Trey yelled over the sound.
He twisted backward and the first gunshot made my ears ring. One of the wolves yelped, and maybe I imagined it, but afterward the howls and barks seemed angrier.
We flew down the rocky road, and I prayed to any gods listening that the horse wouldn’t fall on the loose rocks.
My eyes watered and I squinted through the wind to see the dam rapidly approaching.
Cinnamon ran as fast as she could, but the wolves easily kept pace.
Trey continued to shoot, and I heard a few yelps, but I had no idea if he’d managed to kill any of them.
“Try to steer her onto the bridge!” Trey yelled in my ear, and then I heard the telltale click of an empty gun.
I knew he had more ammo in his jacket, but I wasn’t sure if he could reach it.
I seized the reins. The turn for the bridge appeared, and I started pulling to the side, hoping the horse would understand that I wanted her to turn.
She seemed to get the idea and began to head toward the bridge, but then she stumbled.
For a second, I thought she would be able to right herself and keep going, but then we were falling.
Trey grabbed me around the waist and for a sickening moment, we were airborne before the ground slammed into us hard.
Cinnamon screamed, a horrible cry of fear and pain, and I knew without looking that we’d lost her.
Trey recovered before I did, hauling me to my feet, but a blur of grey fur crashed into him and knocked him down.
The gun clattered across the ground, and I screamed in terror.
Trey grappled with a wolf that was attempting to rip his throat out.
He’d managed to get an arm up so the wolf’s jaw crushed his forearm instead of his neck, but blood sprayed, and I could hear the cracking of bone as he screamed.
Still, he fought back, attempting to wrestle the wolf down and get the upper hand.
I started to run for the gun but then remembered it was empty.
After a frantic glance around me, I grabbed some of the large rocks that littered the ground and threw them at the wolf as hard as I could, screaming.
After a few misses, I managed to get the wolf squarely in the jaw, and it released Trey’s arm, turning toward me with a snarl.
Trey gasped on the ground, his face pale and his arm a bloody, gory mess.
The wolf stalked toward me, its muzzle covered in Trey’s blood, and I clutched the rock in my hand tighter as I raised my arm.
“Get out of here!” I screamed at the wolf. “Get out!”
The wolf didn’t stop and, as Trey cried my name and Cinnamon’s screams faded, I knew we were about to die. The smell of blood filled the air along with the awful sound of the wolves beginning to tear into the horse’s flesh.
The wolf lunged.
I screamed and hurled the rock with all my strength, a wild useless throw. It clipped the animal but did nothing to stop it.
The wolf slammed into me.
Everything went sideways, and I hit the ground hard, the breath driven from my lungs. My skull cracked against the ground. The wolf’s claws raked my jacket, tearing the fabric. My vision was full of fur and fangs. All I could hear were snarls and my own ragged breaths.
I twisted, trying to protect my throat, but the wolf’s weight crushed me into the ground.
No!
The massive beast loomed over me with a low, vibrating growl. It bared its teeth slowly, deliberately—yellowed fangs slick with blood—and its black eyes locked onto mine with a cold, knowing intensity. Bloody saliva dripped from its maw and splattered on my cheek.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream.
A shout cracked through the air.
The wolf’s head snapped up, ears flattening against its skull. Another shout, closer this time, and the wolf leapt away from me, heading for the trees. The rest of the pack followed, dissolving into the forest like shadows.
I lay there for a moment too long, shaking, before I scrambled to my feet. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. A group of people in dark tactical gear was approaching us from the dam, weapons raised, but I barely spared them a glance.
I crashed down on my knees at Trey’s side.
His eyes met mine, full of fear and pain.
His arm was shredded, but the break looked relatively clean.
I ripped my gloves off and wrapped my hands around his arm, quickly setting the bone before the warmth of my healing powers rushed down my arms and into him.
I gasped in panicked sobs as I watched the broken bone, ruptured muscles, and torn tendons and ligaments slowly mend.
His good hand suddenly gripped my arm, squeezing, and I looked at his face.
“S’alright, darlin’,” he whispered, which only made me cry harder. “Bones, it’s alright.”
The wound finally closed into an enormous, jagged scar, but I didn’t let go, running my fingers around it and moving his arm so I could see for sure that it had healed.
“Are you hurt?” Trey asked.
“No,” I sobbed.
“I’m okay, Bones.” He pulled his arm free from my grip and sat up to hug me. “I’m okay.”
I clung to him, shaking. I could hear boots on the pavement, and I knew whoever had saved us was approaching, but I didn’t look up. Trey was okay. He was okay. We were alive.
“Don’t make any sudden moves,” Trey whispered urgently in my ear.
I raised my head in alarm. A dozen armed people surrounded us, and while they weren’t pointing guns at us, they also hadn’t holstered their weapons. I scanned their faces, but I didn’t recognize any of them. Their grim expressions made my stomach flip with anxiety, but they had saved our lives.
“Thanks for the assist,” Trey said carefully, and I remembered how that wolf almost seemed to obey them.
A familiar voice rang out.
“Angel.”
I twisted in panic, hoping I heard wrong, but the circle of armed men parted and Vulture stepped into view.
He looked the same, but somehow different.
He’d always been wiry, but he seemed thinner than I remembered.
His dark blond hair hung long, covering his ears, and his narrow face was still good-looking, but it had a harder edge to it now.
His eyes looked almost black. They’d been blue before, hadn’t they?
I stared at him, my heart pounding with fear. This wasn’t possible. I had to be hallucinating. He couldn’t be here, how the fuck was he here? Trey’s arms had tightened around me, both of us silent and tense. Vulture stepped closer, crouching an arm’s length away so he could peer into my eyes.
“Not expectin’ to see me, were you?” Vulture drawled. “Guess you were probably expectin’ me to be as dead as Juck, huh?”
I couldn’t look past his dark eyes. I expected them to be full of fury and vengeance, but they were strangely empty. It wasn’t reassuring, though. It made my skin crawl.
“When I saw the bounty out on your head, I jumped at the chance to track you down,” he said. He glanced at Trey and there, some emotion flashed through those dark eyes.
“Vulture—” I tried, my voice shaking, but he held up a hand, stopping me.
“Nah, I’m not interested in your lies, Angel.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered anyway.
“Which part are you sorry for? For all the lies or for leavin’ me to die?”
“All of it,” I choked out.
It scared me so much more that he wasn’t yelling. I’d seen him angry. He had a temper to rival mine, and I knew how to handle that. I didn’t know what to do with this terrifying blank version of him.
He stood. “So are you gonna come nicely or is this gonna be a fight?”
“Come where?” My voice shook.
He grinned. “Back to the Vault.”