Blackwoode by C. L. Brown

Author:C. L. Brown [C. L. Brown]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C. L. Brown
Published: 2023-03-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

A minute can be an eternity. Long enough for silence to become awkward, for pain to grow unbearable, to make a drowning victim welcome death. We had four of them. Four eternities. And I still wished we had more.

“Move your ass, Fido,” Natalie barked.

“Piss off,” I snarled, frustration getting the best of me.

I was a werewolf, struggling to keep pace with a demonic half-breed witch. The pack’s complex was a handful of city blocks behind us. It might as well have been around the corner. Any wolf could cover that distance with minimal effort. We should have covered twice the distance we had. Whatever I was coming down with was hampering me.

Our every breath condensed to puffs of fog. Our feet pounded against concrete; their rhythm outmatched by our hearts. A mix of barricaded shops and empty buildings lined our escape route. Cars past their prime lined the street with the occasional souped-up ride sprinkled here and there. Firelight lit alleyways, providing warmth for the city’s downtrodden. Participants of unscrupulous transactions paused as we ran by.

A distant howl caught my ears. Dogs in the area heard it as well. Barks and yips echoed in the night. But no howls of response followed. I hadn’t the faintest idea of how many wolves were part of the hunt. It was safe to assume it would be a sizable number.

Natalie stopped and doubled over, panting. “Are we far enough?”

“Not even close,” I said, resting against a car. “The Hudson’s close. If we can make it there, it’ll be harder for them to track us.” I coughed, spitting up blood.

“Are you going to make it?” Natalie asked.

I straightened, wincing from the effort. “I’ll manage.”

Having caught my second wind, I kept pace with the witch. This lasted a few more blocks. Then fatigue took hold of me once more. A flood of adrenaline washed it away. The scent of wolves drifted on the icy breeze.

Fatigue made it hard to track time. I had misjudged the howl. It wasn’t starting the hunt. The pack had been hunting in silence. Someone had caught our scent. Stopping to rest was a mistake. Wasted time we didn’t have.

We ran into a field. The highway lay on the other side. Beyond there was the Hudson. Our odds would increase at the river. The pack would have a harder time tracking us by water. We could travel along the river until daylight granted us a reprieve.

Footsteps raced behind us. My claws tore through my fingertips. We were less than fifty yards from the highway. The pursuing footfalls went silent. I spun, raking my claws through the air. I missed my target by a hair.

Abraham crashed into me. We landed in a tumbling heap of snarls. He buried his claws in my shoulder. I roared, slashing at his chest. The Tsar’s son gave ground. I scrambled to stand. Raging Abe punted me in the ribs. Pain lanced through me. I landed ten yards away.

“Bad doggy!” Natalie shouted, charging Abraham, flinging red orbs of magic.

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