Raised by Wolves (Raised by Wolves #1)(66)
Author: Jennifer Lynn Barnes

“I’ll go,” Chase said quietly. “He won’t consider me a threat at all.”

It cost Chase to say those words, to know that they were true. To the Rabid, Chase would never be a real person, let alone one who deserved to be viewed with any kind of wariness or respect.

“He might not perceive you as a threat, but he’ll know you’re coming,” I said, my voice matching Chase’s for lack of volume. “He’ll smell you a mile off, and he’ll know it’s you. He’ll be waiting. He’ll have something planned.”

“He won’t expect me to have a gun.”

At the word gun, Lake leaned back against the dilapidated nightstand, crossing her right foot over her left. “Do you know how to shoot?” she asked Chase.

He shrugged. “Point. Pull trigger. How complicated could it be?”

Dev reached out one arm in a show of holding Lake back, even though she hadn’t moved a muscle. “Down, girl! The boy knows not what he says!”

“I’ll go,” Lake said, rolling her eyes at Devon’s theatrics. “I’m the best shot.”

Devon echoed her eye roll with one of his own. “And I stand the best chance of coming out of this alive if Mr. Crankypants catches on to the fact that someone has him in their sights.”

Dev was young, but he was purebred, and Lance had trained him to fight the same way that Callum had trained me.

For a moment, I let the three of them stare each other down, and then I put an end to it.

“It has to be me,” I said.

All three of the others looked at me like I’d suggested inviting Prancer to a Very Special Tea Party.

“If any of you get close to him, he’ll know that there’s a Were here,” I said. “If he senses me, he’ll sense a human. Outside of the Stone River wolves, most people can’t tell that I’m Pack from a distance.” The distinction between my scent and the others’ was the difference between someone who’d spritzed themselves with body splash and someone who sweated it from their pores. “I won’t even register on this guy’s threat meter. He’ll probably just assume that I’m some kid from town, poking around the woods on a dare.” I knew better than to pause and give them a chance to interject. “Besides, next to Lake, I’m the best shot. If I go, the Rabid won’t be on guard, he won’t be expecting me, he won’t recognize me, and I can hit him first try.”

Every single one of my friends knew that I had the best argument, but none of them wanted to admit it.

“And besides,” I added, “it’ll take me three times as long to get to the cabin as it would any of you. If I stay out of range and someone needs me, they’re out of luck. Any of you could get there in seconds.”

Through the bond, I got the feeling that none of them would mind keeping me out of the range of fire indefinitely.

“No.” I said the word and spoke it into their minds at the same time. “I’ve got guns, I know how to shoot, and I’ll be careful. If I can’t get him in my sights, then I’ll come back. He’s not going to want to attack a human in his own backyard. None of his previous victims have lived within a hundred miles of Alpine Creek. He’s lived here for more than a decade. He has a vested interest in going on vacay to snack. Unless he realizes that I’m there to attack him, he won’t attack me.”

And, I promised silently, I won’t shoot unless I’m sure I can kill.

They still didn’t like it. I’d always known that Devon was protective, and it had been perfectly clear from day one that Chase and I hurt more for each other’s suffering than our own, but I’d never realized that Lake felt the same way, that every illicit adventure we’d ever been on, she would have thrust me behind her in a second, the instant danger appeared.

I-am-doing-this.

Out loud, all I said was, “You guys.”

“Fine.” Chase was the first to agree. Even as he did, he lowered his head to mine and nuzzled me—the universal wolf gesture for Come home safe.

Lake fixed me with a steely glare. “You die, and I’ll find someone with a knack for raising the dead, bring you back all zombified, and kill you myself.”

“I’m not helpless,” I told her, dropping my gaze to my wrists. She nodded.

Ultimately, Devon was the hardest sell. “I would rather shave my head and mold my personal look after a prison guard named Bubba than let you do this.”

Of all of them, Dev had been protecting me the longest. He was also the only one who’d seen me after my first run-in with our Rabid. I could sense that image, of a skinny, blood-soaked child, close to the surface of his mind.

Taking a step back, I twisted my wrists sharply and settled into a fighting pose as the claws came out.

I’m not that little girl anymore, Dev. I’m tougher than I look. If you don’t let me do this, you’re saying I’m helpless. You’re making me helpless, and I’m really sick of playing the victim.

In the back of my head, it occurred to me that I might be able to make Devon agree—the same way I’d forced Chase to promise to stay out of it when Callum had Sora beat me. But Dev had an incredible ability for holding grudges, and I wasn’t sure that I could put up with the dramatics inside my head as well as out.

“Fine. But Bronwyn Alessia St. Vincent Clare, I’d not have you endangering yourself on my watch.”

I smiled. “My stubbornness is my folly?” I guessed.

“You said it. I didn’t.”

Somehow, I doubted he was joking this time. Rather than reply, I twisted my wrists inward, and the silver blades whooshed in, hidden again.

And then, I went to kill the Rabid.

Devon, Lake, and Chase were all in my head. My senses—human and therefore dulled—confused them and put them at a handicap for fully understanding what was going on, but I trusted that they’d get used to it. I knew the way into the woods as well as the Rabid who lived there did. I’d seen it through his eyes, and even though the glance had been fleeting, I’d discovered that the knowledge behind it stuck in a way that made me feel closer to my prey than I’d ever wanted to be. For better or worse, I knew where to find the Rabid. The only difficulty was staying downwind and keeping to the upper ground. My Glock ate into my back, a solid reminder that from this point forward, we were playing for keeps.

As silently as I could, I moved toward Wilson’s cabin, my path twisting enough that if he did hear or sense me, he might not read anything into it.