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I looked up. Ben cocked his head, unsure what was happening. Then a mental wall slammed into place, blocking access to his thoughts.

Too late. I’d seen the truth. Recognized Ben’s companion.

The stolen memory seared my brain.

Ben had been speaking with the Gamemaster.





CHAPTER 57





The shock nearly extinguished my flare.

I stared at Ben, aghast, incapable of speech.

My friend. My confidant. Trusted above all others on earth. The pain of his betrayal sent tears to my eyes.

Coop nipped my hand, pulling me back from the brink.

Pack, Coop sent with crystal clarity. Pack.

The wolfdog had it right. Whatever Ben had done, I needed him at that moment. The pack had to be whole for what we were about to attempt.

Shelton and Hi were cautiously poking each other’s chest.

Amazing, sent Hi.

No doubt, Shelton thought back.

I heard them both. Our union of minds was seamless, not the strained, incomplete connections of the past. A blink, and I could adopt another Viral’s perception. See through his eyes. We could communicate telepathically without interference.

I looked at Coop. Is this what a pack truly is?

Coop looked back with feral intensity. I sensed contentment. Excitement. As if his family had finally arrived home.

“We should attack,” Ben said aloud. “Flush out the Gamemaster before . . . whatever this is fades away.”

Yes, I sent. And no more words.

The awesome power flowed through me. Filled me with confidence.

I sent the pack a series of images and instructions.

No more was needed. Single file, we stalked toward the plaza.

Marion Square occupies a full city block—a wide, flat expanse often used for concerts and festivals. Dirt paths run from corner to corner, forming a giant X on the lawn. Oaks and low bushes border the perimeter, but there is no cover inside the square.

We approached the southwest corner and slipped in among the trees, each ducking behind a giant truck. Coop crouched at my side, ears perked, tail pointed outward. Moving warily, I crouched and crab-stepped to my left to get a clean look at the terrain.

Across the plaza loomed a hotel designed to look like a fortress. The roofline was styled as a battlement, topped with false towers and indented crenellations.

A perfect shooting platform, Ben sent. He was watching through my eyes.

Agreed, I replied. We need to revise our plan.

CRACK.

Something stung my arm.

I dropped to my belly, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Not the hotel.

TORY! Shelton pushed so hard it made me dizzy.

Coop whined in distress.

Then Hi was dragging me back behind the oak. Shelton and Ben were staring with panicked eyes.

“Oh God,” Hi panted. “How bad is it?”


How bad is what? I sent. Why are you speaking?

“Your arm!” Hi took a deep breath. You’ve been shot.

I looked down. My jacket and shirtsleeve were neatly sliced. A scarlet blossom was streaking the outside of the nylon. Huh.

“She’s in shock.” Ben’s voice was shaky. “Hi, check the wound.”

I’m fine. But I let Hi probe the rip in my sleeve.

Seconds ticked by. Then color returned to Hi’s cheeks. “It’s okay. Just a graze.”

My finger traced the shallow slash on my upper arm. Close.

“Did anyone see the shot?” Shelton whispered.

No more talking! I mind-shouted, tugging off the windbreaker and ripping away my shirtsleeve.

The wound was neat, straight, and parallel to the ground. It sliced horizontally across my left biceps, angling neither up nor down.

He’s level with us, I sent. Not on a roof.

I considered my body position at impact—facing forward, shoulders square to the park. To graze my left arm, the bullet had to have originated either directly ahead or from somewhere to our left.

I scanned the left side of the plaza. Settled on a trio of live oaks crowding the northeast corner. There.

Shelton spreads his hands. That’s all the way across the square!

Coop nudged my thigh. When our eyes met, he transmitted a series of images: Shelton and Ben circling left. Coop, Hiram, and I swinging right. Then snapping jaws, our prey caught squirming between.

Overcoming my shock, I relayed the wolfdog’s plan. He would know.

Thunder cracked. A lone squall swept the block, sprinkling us with briny drops. The eye was passing. Katelyn was about to rage again.

Go! I sent.

Everyone reacted at once. Coop, Hi, and I shot down Calhoun. Using the tree line as a screen, we sprinted to the end of the block and slid into the bushes.

Running west, I was aware of Ben and Shelton sprinting north along King. They hit the corner and took cover in the trees.

Both groups paused, panting, sharing points of view.

No shots. No movement. I worried the Gamemaster had already fled.

Glancing east, I saw a wall of rain marching across the peninsula. A blast of wind nearly knocked me on my butt as Katelyn stormed back. Howling and spitting, she fired branches across the plaza like matchsticks.

Close the jaws, I sent.

Simultaneously, we began to converge on the northeast corner.

Lightning flashed. For an insane moment I heard the wind scream my name. Then I danced sideways to avoid a tire tumbling down the sidewalk.