Warrior (Relentless #4)(62)

I turned to the house. “Erik, I need your bike.”

He tossed his keys to me. I took Sara’s hand to lead her to the motorcycles. I gave her a helmet and grabbed one for myself. Straddling Erik’s bike, I started it and waited for her to climb on behind me. She pressed herself against my back and wrapped her arms tightly around my waist.

I broke the speed limit all the way to New Hastings, even though I knew what we’d find when we got there. Neither of us spoke until we reached the Knolls.

“Brendan’s. That’s where they’ll take him,” she said when I slowed at the turnoff.

I’d gotten to know the area over the last month, so I knew where Brendan’s farm was. Minutes later, we drove along the edge of the driveway, which was packed with vehicles. Lights shone from every window in the big two-story house, and a small crowd of people stood on the front porch talking. Everyone quieted and stared at us when we pulled up.

Sara jumped off the bike before I shut it off. She ran up the steps and found her way blocked by the young hotheaded wolf named Francis.

“Haven’t you done enough?” he railed at her. “You are not welcome here.”

“I have to see him.” She tried to push past him, and one of the other men grabbed her shoulder to hold her back.

“Let me go!” she cried.

My Mori growled dangerously.

“Take your hand off her.”

I forced myself to walk calmly to Sara so I didn’t go over and rip the arm off the man who dared to touch her.

The man let her go and narrowed his eyes at me. The others moved closer to him, scowling as if they could intimidate me.

I tensed and prepared to pull Sara behind me in case one of them made a move toward us.

“What’s going on here?” rumbled Brendan from the doorway. Several of the men hung their heads under his glare.

Sara ran to the Beta wolf. “Brendan. Please, I need to see Roland!”

The older wolf’s eyes and voice were kind when he laid a hand on her shoulder. “I know how much you care about him, but you can’t go in there right now. It’s not safe.”

“Not safe?” she repeated tearfully.

“The silver went in too deep. It’s too close to his heart, and we can’t get to it. He’s half mad with the pain, and he doesn’t know anyone right now. He’d tear you apart.”

A long mournful howl came from inside the house, and every person on the porch shuddered.

“He can’t heal,” Brendan told her, his eyes dark with grief. “A couple of hours at the most.”

A wave of her pain hit me, and I almost closed my eyes against the force of it.

“No!” She pushed past him into the house. “Roland is not going to die!”

Brendan let her go and shook his head sorrowfully. “She loves that pup like a brother. This is going to kill her.”

“This is all her fault,” Francis spat.

“Francis!” Brendan gave him a look that brooked no argument. “Roland is old enough to know better. Do you really think that little girl could force a werewolf to do anything against his will?”

The younger wolf had no reply to that.

“Is there no chance?” I asked Brendan, though I already knew the answer.

“None.” He wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve.

Silence fell over the porch. A few of the wolves laid their hands on the shoulders of those next to them, seeking solace in each other’s touch. I’d always heard that werewolf packs were closely knit, but I’d never experienced it firsthand until today. Every member of this pack would grieve the loss of one of their own. Even Francis bowed his head in sorrow.

Another agonizing howl tore through the silence. A woman began to cry quietly.

A boy appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide with excitement. “She’s gone in with Roland!” he cried in a high voice.

“Who?” Brendan asked.

“Sara. She said she’s gonna save him!”

I shoved past the wolves, ignoring their shouts of outrage.

Brendan stepped aside to allow me entry, and I ran to where a crowd was gathered outside an open door on the first floor. I pushed through them, earning more than one growl until Brendan barked, “Let him pass.”

I reached the room and took in the sight of the black werewolf chained and thrashing on a mattress in the corner. Sara called to him, and he went nuts, straining to break the chains that held him.

I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her from the room.

She turned and smiled at me. “It’s all right. I just tamed two hellhounds, remember?”

Her eyes held mine, begging me to have faith in her. I didn’t know what Sara had done to those hellhounds, but she had done something to make them her own. My gut told me I was about to find out what that was.

I released her, and she sat on the floor a few feet into the room, close enough for me to grab her if the wolf somehow managed to break his chains.

“Roland, do you know who I am?” she asked him softly.

He growled and bared his fangs.

“I see. Well, that won’t do at all,” she said calmly as if she wasn’t sitting less than ten feet from a crazed werewolf. “I know you’re in a lot of pain, and we’re going to deal with that soon, but first I think we need to have a talk. Or I’ll talk and you can listen. How does that sound?”