Читать книгу A Pack of Two - Jacky Russell - Страница 7

Chapter 3

Breanna

“I cannot believe you asked me to do that,” Lieutenant Christopher LeCavalier fumed as he paced outside my cell. His eyes sparkled as he spun to face me. The fluorescent lights gave his coal black hair an eerie glow.

“I needed to know he was all right.” The telephone call I had placed to the hospital before reporting to the brig at Camp Ederle had not gone well. A woman answered and promptly slammed the receiver in my ear. Bitch.

“You could have called the front desk.” The vampire’s thick French-Canadian accent made his irritated words sound angrier than he was.

“Yeah, I’m sure it was a terrible experience since you love elf girls in nurses’ uniforms.”

Chris sneered at me. “Will I need to go check on him later tonight to be sure he is tucked in properly?”

“Check on whom?” Simon asked, stepping onto the long narrow hall and glancing in my direction.

“Chris went to the hospital to check on Lucas.”

Two blond eyebrows shot up. “Lucas?” he asked, drawing out the name.

“Yeah, you know, the wolf the Malandanti were after.” I flopped onto the pitiful cot. A spider skittered from his hiding place beneath the mattress.

Simon glared at me.

“What? I tried to call but didn’t get much info so Chris stopped by.”

“That wolf is dangerous. That pack is dangerous. Stay away from him and that’s an order, Sergeant.” Simon pointed a finger at Chris. “And you should have known better than to fall for this.”

Chris lowered his eyes and I stormed to the front of the cell. “I just wanted to know Lucas was all right. Is that a bad thing?”

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Had you asked, I would have given you a full report regarding the injured werewolf.”

Oops. “You checked on him?”

Simon looked insulted. “I phoned the hospital. If you would bother to check, you would see I had indeed left two messages for you.”

I was dog shit on a boot heel. “Is he okay?”

Simon walked to the front of the cell. “The doctors said your tourniquet saved his life. He would have bled to death had you not intervened.”

There was a “but” sure to follow.

“But you disobeyed my orders to not engage. You went after the Malandanti without permission or backup.”

“They were going to kill him, Sime. I had to engage.”

He shook his head. “You chose to engage.”

I stomped my foot. “Yeah, to save Lucas. They were going to sacrifice him for some stupid ritual.”

“But you chose to ignore my order and handle things yourself, did you not?”

My breath was the only sound in the room. “Yes, sir.”

Simon looked over his shoulder. “Lieutenant LeCavalier, you may go.”

Chris tossed a sympathetic shrug my way before slipping down the hall. Simon reached for the keys and unlocked the brig door. I moved to the far corner and sat quietly on the cot. Simon would never hurt me, but his lectures were enough to make me throw myself into traffic.

“Breanna, my dear, you are one of the finest reconnaissance soldiers I have ever known, but your petulance and impatience worry me greatly.”

There was a bridge over the main road coming into base. Lots of traffic. If I was lucky, a tractor trailer would hit me first.

“I contacted the hospital tonight to not only verify the condition of the injured wolf but to ascertain if any ill will was directed toward you since you had so brazenly drawn attention to yourself at the hospital.”

I stared at the cracks in the floor. “I couldn’t leave him, Sime. He was upset and his wolf kept trying to force a change.”

Simon snorted. “Ah, yes, and there is that. Theodore was babbling about you talking to the injured wolf and stopping an imminent change. Would you care to share your secret?”

“My secret?”

“You were able to have a conversation with the wolf side of a werewolf?”

“Oh, yeah, guess I did talk to his wolf but if I hadn’t, Lucas would have died.”

“And?”

I jumped from the cot. “And it would have been my fault.”

“No, it would not have been your fault. It would have been his fault for being on the mountain road alone at that time of night. By the way, there is absolutely no evidence to support your claim the Malandanti were there.”

“You think I’m lying?”

“I do not. However, most supernaturals are not quite so willing to accept the word of a witch.”

He didn’t mean it to hurt but it did. I might have been able to change shapes and fly around like an owl, but bottom line, I was a witch and nobody liked witches.

“You’re on duty tonight,” Simon said as he rose fluidly from the cot.

“I’m not. I’m in the brig per your orders.”

“You and Lieutenant Miller have the river. Lieutenant LeCavalier and Sergeant Ordison will take the road.” Simon was inches from my face before I could blink. “Please follow orders tonight, Master Sergeant Welker. No engagement without calling first.” Cool fingers startled away my foot-stomping response. “Breanna, my dear, I am thinking of your safety.” He released my arm and backed away. “We will discuss the injured werewolf when you return.”

Ninety minutes later I landed on the bank of the Brenta River. It was a dark night with only a sliver of moon occasionally peeking between the clouds. My owl form easily slipped between the overhanging branches as I glided toward my werewolf partner for the night.

The river was loud, the water lapping over the edges of the banks. The forest knew we were there and kept her animals hidden in the darkness. Lieutenant Aaron Miller was sitting cross-legged on a rock.

“Hey, Bre,” he called as I landed. Apparently he didn’t mind talking to a bird. In a flash I changed, my form flowing from owl to human. It was times like this I was thankful my touch of magic always included my human form re-emerging fully clothed. The werewolves didn’t have that luxury.

“What’s up, Aaron? What’d you do to tick off the old man?”

Aaron grinned, giving him a boyish charm. “I asked for duty when I heard you were on deck.”

“Yeah, right.” Nobody requested duty with me.

Aaron moved closer, slowly running a finger up my arm. “Ah, now, Bre, you know I think you’re the sexiest witch in our unit.”

I met his eyes. “I’m the only witch in your unit.”

Aaron was one of the sixteen werewolves in my recon unit and was by far the sultriest of the lot. There were also five vampires and one very important civilian elf in our midst.

A twig snapped in the distance and we both dropped to the ground. Movement along the far river bank attracted our attention. “I’ll fly around behind,” I whispered. “You take the point.”

Aaron glowered. He was charming in a naughty boy kind of way. “There might be more than one. We shouldn’t split up.”

“Move it, Miller. That’s an order.”

He gave me a playful snarl before slipping into the darkness.

I shifted, my owl form giving me greater eyesight and much more maneuverability among the trees. As I flew deeper into the darkness, the sounds of the night called to me. Rabbits shrieked in alarm, mice dove into the leaves, and footsteps moved along the forest floor.

You’re lucky I ate dinner, Flopsy.

Staying high in the trees and avoiding the revealing snippets of moonlight, I circled to hone in on the faint sucking noises of two pairs of shoes in the mud.

My orders were not to engage.

The heavy limbs of a giant spruce gave good cover. The footsteps along the bank stopped, but another set of shoes was approaching from Aaron’s side. It wasn’t Aaron, the footsteps much too loud for a recon soldier, but they were soft and light, perhaps a woman?

Across the river Aaron stalked through the underbrush less than fifty yards behind a shadowy figure. I flew to another spruce and peered between the branches. The footsteps on my side of the river had not resumed. Were they planning an ambush?

The lone figure Aaron was trailing stopped at the riverbank. She looked around, nervously pulling a scarf tightly around her head. If she’d turn just a little more, she’d reveal her face.

Maybe I should squawk or something to make her look in this direction.

Two cloaked figures, most certainly Malandanti judging by their outdated robes, appeared directly across the water from her.

Squawk aborted. Shut up and watch.

I waited, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of the woman’s face, but she kept her head down while stepping gingerly onto the rocks. The gurgling water drowned out any words exchanged between the Malandanti and the woman as she passed a manila envelope to one of the cloaked figures.

Gotta have that envelope. That is not engaging. That is acquiring evidence.

Soundlessly diving and carefully avoiding the dapples of moonlight, I ripped the envelope from the bony fingers and flapped with all my might to push my owl body as far from the Malandanti as possible.

I had just reached the other side of the riverbank when the first wave of Malandanti magic swept over me. The magic wasn’t comfortable, but no damage done.

“Bre!” Aaron yelling for help made me drop the envelope and rush toward him.

Trapped in a binding spell, struggling to keep his head above the water, Aaron flailed like a stickman in a windstorm.

The woman disappeared, but the Malandanti were standing firm, their spell dragging Aaron closer to a watery grave. I landed on a rock and shifted to human. The Malandanti dashed into the forest. The binding spell broke, leaving Aaron to flounder in the roaring current. I tried to grab his outstretched hand but the frothy water snatched him.

“Hang on, Aaron, I’m coming!” Geez, I hated cold water. I tossed my heavy jacket to the side and dove into the dark depths, promptly slamming headfirst into a boulder. The current was a monster, sucking me farther under and pinballing me along the jagged rocks.

I hated those damn cloaked asshole witch bitch freaks.

I bounced to the surface, gasping for air. Only a few feet away, Aaron surfaced in a swirling rapid of white water and logs. I ducked under the water and swam to him.

“Gotcha.” I had a good grip on his wet fatigues. “Come on and we’ll get out of this water.”

“I can’t swim,” he rasped as he clung to a floating chunk of oak.

Werewolves and water. Damn.

“Can’t stay here, Miller,” I shouted. “Trust me, I’ll get you out.”

Bobbing against the log, the cold water leaching my strength, I managed to pull Aaron’s back against my chest in the survival swimmer position.

“Don’t fight or you’ll drown us both.”

He was heavy as a tank and the going was slow, but we made it to the shore. We climbed through the mud and collapsed side by side on the shore. It was so damn cold a penguin would have been miserable and now I was soaked to the bone. My muscles were on strike. Beside me, Aaron’s breathing calmed. Every werewolf I’d ever met was deathly afraid of water, something about the density of their bodies making it impossible for them to swim.

Warm fingers closed around mine as Aaron rose to an elbow. “Bre, you okay?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute.”

Aaron leaned over me, brushing strands of hair out of my face. “Do you need mouth-to-mouth?”

“Don’t make me kill you after all that.”

Aaron chuckled and helped me sit up. “What happened back there? I tracked the female werewolf to the edge of the river and the next thing I know, I can’t move and I’m drowning.”

“She was a werewolf? Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“That was Malandanti magic. They caught you in a binding spell.”

“Malandanti? Seriously? I didn’t see anybody but her.”

I banged my fist against my forehead. “We need to find that envelope she gave them. I grabbed it, but dropped it upstream a ways.”

He snorted in disgust. “Why did you drop it?”

Damn arrogant werewolf. “To save your scrawny hide.” I climbed to my feet. “Let’s go. I’m cold.”

His arms snaked around my waist. “I know how to warm you up.”

I kicked him in the groin and he crumpled.

“I guess I deserved that,” he grunted.

Thankfully I’d left the radio in my jacket pocket. “I’m getting backup.”

“Bonjour, my dear,” Simon answered. “Please tell me you have not disobeyed another order.”

“Maybe a little, but it was to save Aaron.”

“Explain.”

I filled him in on the Malandanti, Aaron’s ordeal, and the envelope.

“I’m almost there,” Simon replied, abruptly ending the conversation.

“Find it?” Aaron asked as I stomped up the muddy bank.

“No, they must have circled around and got it.” I kicked a rock and it rolled toward spit-shined black boots.

Major Ezekiel Trenton, the werewolf commander of the Combat Unit of Bravo, curled his lip in disdain as I drew closer. Aaron and I stood to full attention.

“Sergeant Welker,” the enormous man muttered as if he would vomit from saying my name.

“Major Trenton, sir. I was not aware the Combat Unit was in the area.”

He snorted. “That proves what kind of Recon Unit a vampire runs. A pathetic one.”

Simon emerged from the darkness. “Greetings, Ezekiel. Have you lost your wolves again?”

A chuckle stuck in my throat and Trenton glared at me. “Major DuChard,” the werewolf answered coolly. “It seems your recon soldiers have been playing in the water.”

“We aren’t playing,” Aaron said. “We were looking for the envelope the Malandanti dropped.”

Trenton’s eyebrows shot up. “Malandanti? There haven’t been Malandanti sightings in over two hundred years.”

“Just because nobody saw them doesn’t mean they aren’t here,” I responded before really thinking.

Trenton ignored me. Typical.

“My soldiers have seen no signs of Malandanti. Where’s your evidence?” he asked Simon.

“Bre saw them,” Aaron piped in, meaning to be helpful, but Trenton took advantage.

“You’re taking the word of a witch there are witches here?” Trenton rolled his head back and laughed. “DuChard, you have lost your mind.”

“Major Trenton, you will address all members of my unit with respect or you will answer to me,” Simon responded with no hint of emotion.

For a moment I thought–at least hoped–Trenton would make a move. Simon would wipe the floor with him. Apparently Trenton knew it because he stepped back and reined in his wolf. With one last sneer in my direction, he turned on his heel and tromped through the forest.

I never realized how much crap Simon got for having me in his unit. It was tough being the only vampire commanding officer of a primarily werewolf company, but knowing he had to deal with shit like this gave me even more respect for my commanding officer.

“Thanks.”

Simon nodded suavely. “I am sorry you had to hear that exchange, my dear.”

“I’m sorry they give you a hard time about me.” I thought back to all the things I’d done in the last ten years and clenched my fists. I’d do better from now on. No more disobeying orders.

“So, you engaged the Malandanti again?”

Damn.

Aaron bumped my shoulder. “She had to, Major DuChard. Bre pulled me out of the water.”

“Ah, that would explain the poor appearance of your uniforms.”

Aaron, Simon and I slopped along the muddy riverbank, searching for footprints or something to support our story. Simon and Aaron picked up the faint scent of a female werewolf. I got the residual black magic from the spell casting, but nothing concrete we could share with the command post.

“Thanks for looking,” I said as we made our way back toward the road. “I’m sure they were Malandanti. I think they were the same ones from last night.”

“I wish I could’ve gotten a better look at the werewolf,” Aaron muttered. “I got nothing but scent.”

“Could you identify that scent again?” Simon asked.

Aaron crinkled his nose. “Not sure. It was so faint. I know it was a woman and she wasn’t in heat.”

All righty, more info than I needed to know.

We piled into Simon’s Humvee and rode to Camp Ederle. Aaron headed to the showers and I followed Simon into his makeshift office. Celeste, his elf mate and the designated healer of the unit, was waiting. She leaped into his arms and I tried not to watch. The two were so in love they were painful to be around.

“So, Simon, got any ideas why a werewolf might be meeting with the Malandanti?”

He put his arm around Celeste. “Not really.”

The reappearance of Malandanti after so many years bothered me. All the data we had suggested the cloaked witches had been annihilated in the nineteenth century. So why were they running around Italy, and more specifically, why were they after Lucas?

“Aren’t Malandanti considered opportunistic?” I asked.

Simon nodded. “They are not known for elaborate schemes such as what was carried out the night the werewolf was injured.”

“They were there. I saw them.”

He tilted his head. “I believe you, Breanna, but once again you see the problem. No evidence.”

Sometimes it really sucked to be a witch.