Chapter 7
WOLVES TAKE MANHATTAN
All hell breaks loose on the balcony of the packhouse. We’re under attack!
It’s chaos. Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty wolves are leaping and tearing at the fabric of dresses, snarling at partygoers, snapping their razor-sharp fangs at us. People don’t know which way to turn. I can’t imagine how the invaders stayed undetected for so long, long enough to pull this off.
Jasper is herding people back inside, away from the edges of the balcony and the hundred-story drop to the streets of Manhattan below. But it’s slow going. The crowd has bottlenecked at the doors, meaning the rest of us are trapped out here.
But we aren’t so ill-prepared that a number of the alpha’s guard haven’t already shifted as well and are battling the invaders fiercely.
To my right I spot Salazar, staring at the dismal scene before him, and for a moment I wonder if he’s too sauced to do anything, but then something shifts, his back straightens, and his expression comes alive.
His lips curl into a snarl and in an instant, he’s shifted into his wolf form, a black coat flecked with gray, easily twice the size of most of the attackers, and he jumps with reckless abandon into the battle.
Katie and her mates are still behind me, my ears crackle with the sound of bones breaking and reconnecting as all three of them shift, ready to help defend the packhouse.
As for me, I know I can help if I can reach out and connect with the invaders via the Lunar Plane.
“Jasper,” I say via mind-link. “I think I can stop this but I need a minute.”
He turns, red-faced, his hair falling across his brow, and for a moment I worry he’s too freaked to think clearly. Then he nods.
“Do it, I’ll keep you safe.”
Jasper lowers his head, then suddenly the black spine of his wolf rises behind him, tearing through the back of his suit jacket as he transforms. His hands turn to paws before they hit the floor, landing among the debris of his outfit.
He looks up at me with his pitch-black muzzle, his emerald-green eyes.
“I’ve got you,” he says, snapping his jaws and coming to stand next to me. Another bonus of having achieved the mind-link is we can now communicate with words while we’re in our wolf forms.
With Jasper prowling in a crescent shape before me, ready to protect me from any attack, I close my eyes and reach out across the melee.
It’s easy enough to isolate the attackers—they have a distinctive energy—but as I link with them all, finding the glowing red threads of their souls, I notice something strange.
These aren’t rogues, like I’m sure a lot of the people running for their lives have assumed.
“Jasper,” I say. “These wolves, they’re . . . They’re pack wolves.”
“What?!” he replies, his voice a husky growl even in my head. “How is that possible? Which pack?”
“That’s the thing. They aren’t from a single pack. They’re . . . they’re from a whole bunch of different packs.”
“Then why are they working together?”
I don’t have an answer to Jasper’s question. It doesn’t make any sense. It might if these were rogues who’d originated in different packs. But I know rogues, I can sense them, sense their independence from the packs.
These wolves are no rogues.
They’re still loyal to the rulers of their packs. They reek of obedience. But how could wolves from different packs be working together?
While I’m reaching out I use my powers to check on the Elite Pack wolves closest to us.
The most vulnerable people have made it to the doors, somehow slipping through while Jericho’s gamma wolves fight to create an exit.
Across the balcony wolves tear at each other’s necks, scratching with their claws at each other’s faces and exposed stomachs.
An intense emotion hits me and I reel back before zeroing in on the source.
In the middle of the balcony Finnegan is kneeling next to the limp body of his son, howling in pain, his face a mess of tears.
This has to end.
“Never mind that now,” I say. “I’m going to take them out.”
I reconnect with the invaders, linking my mind with each of theirs, and I’m about to pull out their most devastating memories, to debilitate them with an intense and overwhelming pain, when I sense a dark presence at my back.
Snapping my eyes open, I spin just in time to see a large gray wolf clawing at the ground and rearing back, ready to leap.
Somehow I couldn’t sense him sneaking up on me.
He has the same heavy brow, even as a wolf, and I know it’s the waiter, the one who locked eyes with me across the prayer circle, the one who grinned knowing what violence was about to occur.
He snaps his jaw, a thick strand of saliva flinging free, then pounces.
The world turns in slow motion as the wolf arcs through the air.
I lift my arms, crossing them over my chest as I ready myself for impact, and at the same time I focus all my blood-wolf energy, reaching out to my attacker’s soul, the strands of red reaching from me to him like vines.
If only I can get to him before he lands, before he bites, maybe I—
My body seizes as I connect, my chest expanding, throwing my shoulders back, in one all-encompassing pulse. A terrifying image comes to life as I reach into his subconscious, playing out like an IMAX film in my mind, paralyzing me, rendering me useless.
Then all at once I tear my eyes open, screaming, “NO!” and just as the wolf is about to land on me, Jasper, coming at him sideways, knocks him from the air. Rescuing me just in time.
They land hard, both sliding and spinning across the marble tiles, both clawing back to their feet and readying to fight. Jasper is one of the fiercest wolves I’ve ever seen, but his attacker has a good fifty pounds on him. He’s a beast. Jasper may be faster, but can he win in such an uneven fight?
Lightning fast, they pounce at the same time, springing forward with their jaws open and their claws out. A thunderous clap explodes as they meet in the air, colliding and spinning, each snapping and clawing at the other.
“Jasper!” I call out, knowing there’s no way I’m going to let him fight this battle on his own.
Whoever our attacker is, he may be big, but he can’t defeat me and Jasper at the same time.
I clench my fists, tighten the muscles around my eyes, and focus on him, reestablishing the connection between my soul and his.
Luckily this time, the image that’s still haunting the back of my mind doesn’t appear, and I’m able to send out one emotional blow after the other.
The wolf staggers backward, shaking his head, blinking, like he’s trying to resist, like he’s trying to fight off my emotional onslaught, like he can ignore the deep feelings of pain, insecurity, and fear I’m pummeling his soul with.
Somehow, this guy is able to stay on his feet—must be an expert at suppressing his feelings—but he’s distracted enough to give Jasper the upper hand.
He charges at the wolf, ramming into his side with the full force of his body, knocking him clear across the balcony. He hits the glass railing with a thud.
Jasper is about to attack again when a voice calls out.
“Stay back!”
Jasper and I turn at the familiar boom of Jericho’s voice. In all the chaos I’d not thought to see where he was at. The alpha can take care of himself. But to my surprise he’s not even shifted. He’s in his human form, surrounded by six snarling wolves. And then I see why.
He’s not just taking care of himself. Cowering behind him are Melissa and Jodie.
Jericho is shielding them with his body, his arms out like he’s trying to create a barricade.
Melissa has one arm wrapped around Jodie, a fierce look on her face like she’ll fight if she has to.
Jodie’s expression is also fierce, only I can tell hers is more of an act: Her lip is quivering, her cheeks are wet.
She may be acting tough, but she’s terrified.
“Stay back!” Jericho commands again, but his alpha tone is powerless against these foreign wolves.
They continue to growl as they inch closer, tightening their circle.
I wonder why Jericho isn’t shifting. He would stand a much better chance in his wolf form.
It may be six against one, but when he’s shifted the alpha is immensely powerful.
Maybe he doesn’t think he can do so in enough time to stop something from happening to Jodie and Melissa—that must be it.
“I’m warning you!” Jericho bellows, but it’s too late, the wolves have closed in around him, and with a bark from one of their numbers, they attack.
Six wolves leap at once. They land on Jericho and somehow, even in human form, he’s able to fight them off, at least for a moment.
One latches on to his arm, and just as he tosses it sideways, flinging his attacker through the air, another lands on his back and he spins, clutching the wolf by the muzzle and pulling it over his head, dropping it onto the floor, hard.
But quickly he tires, and these wolves are relentless—each time he throws them off they get right back up. When one bites Jericho’s leg, its teeth digging into the muscle of his thigh, Jasper cries out and I swear I can feel his pain in my chest.
Jasper snarls and leaps into action, charging at the wolves attacking his dad, but before he can make it, the gray wolf has intercepted him, barging into Jasper.
A whimper escapes Jasper’s mouth and my eye flicks back and forth between the alpha, who is on his knees now, still trying to fight off his attackers, and Jasper, who is struggling to find his feet.
Around me the screams of the Elite Pack tear through the air. Across the balcony our wolves are still battling. Salazar rips through the skin of his opponent’s neck, charging to rescue his alpha, but is cut off by another of the invaders. Katie, Todd, and Simon are fighting for their lives.