Chapter Nineteen
The crack of a gunshot rang in his ears.
Andre Mitchel's head jerked up, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His eyes immediately sought out Mary. She stood by the truck, mouth open and eyes wide as the woman beside her, Zoe, crumpled, blood trickling from the bullet hole in her forehead.
His Bear cried out to see another of his kind die. He started forward before he even saw the man with the gun. The papers in his hands were suddenly too heavy to hold. They fluttered to the ground.
Paul Locke stood on a swell between two trees. His gun was still aimed at the truck.
Mary.
Andre roared again, leaping forward. Anger and fear mingled hot in his chest and he raced forward, embracing his Bear as he did.
The gun swung around to point at him.
Crack!
Fiery pain bit through his shoulder. The impact of the slug blasted him off course, sending him spinning. His head hit the ground, and he felt his Bear retreating even as he struggled to call it forth. Panic grasped at his heart but he forced himself upright again, beginning his charge again. He could not let Locke hurt Mary.
"Papa, no!" Mary screamed.
Crack!
The bullet tore through his side, knocking him down once more. His chest heaved but his lungs couldn't seem to draw air.
Get up, he told himself. Get up!
He pushed himself to his knees. Locke was walking forwards now, expression hard. The gun was still aimed at Andre, but Locke did not pull the trigger. The Bear snarled, pushing back his pain. So this was how it would be? Locke wanted to see terror in his eyes? Wanted to cut him open from throat to navel and let him bleed out?
"Papa, please! Don't!"
"Quiet!" Locke turned his gaze from Andre, looking somewhere past the Bear's shoulder. "You will receive your punishment, Mary, don't make it harder for yourself when your time comes."
No. Andre pushed himself to his feet with another roar.
Crack!
His knee gave out and he fell again. Black and white spots danced before his vision, blinding him. Shapes like faces blurred in the lights, mocking him. He would die and Locke would hurt Mary. Would he kill her, his eldest daughter? He killed Eve when she was only six. He has no emotion.
Andre struggled to push himself up again. Pain crashed over him, making his vision go dark. Mary screamed again, the sound echoing, as though coming from the distant end of a tunnel. Panic gripped his throat. Mary. Mary! No!
He jerked his head up, drawing in a breath to tell her to run.
Paul Locke was almost upon him. The gun glinted with the same gleam that was in Locke's eyes. The hands were steady, the expression triumphant. A slow smile passed over his lips.
"This is what happens to Bears that trespass on Wolf prop—"
A streak of black barreled into Locke. The gun went off again as it jerked to one side. A high whistle brushed Andre's ear. The world rang and his vision slipped sideways. He struggled to focus again. Locke was on the ground, his hand still clutching the gun, a black wolf over him, snarling and growling as her teeth flashed and stabbed into his arm. Mary.
Andre pulled himself forward, eyes on the gun. If he could get it away from Locke…
Blackness swallowed him.
***
Not Andre, was all Mary could think as her teeth sunk into her father's arm. Not Andre.
Her Wolf screamed, rage burning every cell in her body. The creature pinned beneath her was not her father. It was a threat to her soulmate, to her, to their future together. She would destroy it! The acrid smell of gunpowder bit her nose as blood poured into her mouth, sweet and metallic. Fingers dug into her scruff, reaching for her throat, and she released the arm to lunge forward, closing her mouth around her enemy's head.
She tasted his scream and felt bone crunching beneath her jaws.
A fist hit her in the ribs, jostling her. She yelped. Her teeth slid off the face, tearing through flesh. Another punch and she found herself rolling away. Each breath she tried to draw in sent a sharp pain through her lungs, but she quickly recovered and sprang to her feet.
Her father's Wolf, twice as tall and muscular as she, bowled into her. She was knocked onto her back, kicking out at her father's belly. He leapt over her, headed towards Andre.
No!
Mary rolled again. Her teeth sank into his back leg, setting her heels into the ground, and dragged him back. Paul turned like lightning, jaws clamped over her neck in a second. A yelp sprang from her throat before the pressure increased to the point where she couldn't breathe. Mary twisted this way and that, eyes rolling, but she couldn't break her father's hold.
The glint of the gun caught her eye. As black splotches began to cloud her vision, she swung her body around. Her neck jerked at an odd angle, but as she threw her weight back, her paws touched the gun.
Fortuitous Luna, make this work!
Mary suppressed her Wolf. Her father's teeth dug into her soft skin, tearing away flesh. He let go, her blood dripping from his mouth. As he darted towards her for the final time, Mary threw herself backwards. Her hands found the gun and she brought it up, stock braced against the ground, barrel pointed at her father.
The kickback jolted up her arms, rattling her teeth and knocking the breath from her lungs. Her father's body flew backwards. He crumpled to the ground, whimpering. Blood stained the fur on his chest, dripping onto the ground. Mary's grip on the gun tightened, her eyes going wide.
What have I done?
Paul's head lifted. His clear blue eyes met hers. They rolled as he struggled to get to his feet, then collapsed. His head lolled. He took in a shallow breath. It rattled out, and he was still.
Mary sat frozen. Her hands locked around the gun. She tried to tell her fingers to let it go, but they wouldn't obey. Her head swam, blood pulsed in her ears, and blackness swirled around her. The world was silent, cold, unmoving, as she stared at her father's lifeless body.
A soft groan made her vision suddenly steady. She blinked and was finally able to cast aside the gun. Her hands felt numb, pain shot down her spine as she stumbled towards Andre. He twitched, limbs shivering. He lay on his face, but when she rolled him over, she was relieved to see his chest rising and falling.
"Andre," she whispered, pressing her hands to his face. It was pale, bloodless. His eyes fluttered.
Blood soaked through his shirt at his shoulder and abdomen, and more at his leg. Mary's hands trembled, but she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She had dealt with gunshot wounds before. At least once every year, a hunter would wander into Wolf territory and take a shot at someone. They were always brought to her family farmhouse since they were the closest to town and the doctor.
I can do this.
Her hands steadied. Mary ripped open Andre's shirt. The buttons popped off, hitting her in the face like tiny bullets. The feeling made her shiver, but she ignored it. The wound in Andre's side was not serious. A grazing shot. No entry.
Jerking to her feet, she ran back to the truck. She avoided looking at Zoe, slumped next to the truck with a bullet hole in her forehead. Mary gathered her clothes, which had shredded when she embraced her Wolf to attack her father. She needed bandages.
The shot to Andre's shoulder had gone right through his body. From what Mary could see, it had missed the major arteries and organs. His knee was another matter. There was no telling what damage had been dealt; the bullet had hit his knee square on, and there was no exit wound.
Mary packed the rags into the wounds. Her hands were soon covered in blood. Andre's eyes fluttered open and Mary froze. He had lost enough blood that he should be half dead, not regaining consciousness. Her heart lifted. He was strong! He'd make it through this.
"Mary?" His voice was hoarse, but his eyes were clear and they focused on her face. A hand brushed against her cheek.
His skin was cool to the touch, but not as cold as she expected. Mary grabbed his hand and pressed her lips to it. "Everything is going to be okay, Andre. You're going to be fine."
A brief smile crossed his face before his eyes closed again.
"Andre!" she shook him. "Andre! I need you to stay awake. You need to get into the car. Can you do that? I'll help you."
His eyes opened again. His skin went even paler as he forced himself to sit up. With Mary's help, he managed to stand. She tried to hold his weight on her, but she felt like she was about to fall over. He was far taller than she was, and every inch of his body was muscle. He groaned with every step they took, but they managed to get to the car before his eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed into the seat.
Mary checked his pulse. Weak, erratic.
As she got into the driver's seat, her gaze landed on Zoe. It felt wrong to leave her behind, but saving Andre's life came first. She pulled out of the clearing, headed down the bumpy mountain road as fast as she dared. The clearing and all that had happened there was soon swallowed by pine and spruce trees.
Her father's face flitted into her mind and Mary's hands tightened on the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. How had he found them again?
It doesn't matter right now. He's dead. I need to take care of Andre.
She glanced at her soulmate. His eyes were roving under his eyelids, but as long as he moved, she knew he was alive.
Mary turned her focus back to the road and thought of nothing but getting to town.