Vicki Thompson: Werewolf in Alaska

Thinking the piece of wood might make a difference was possibly both corny and wrong, but he felt the urge to do it, and under the circumstances, he was going with his gut. The carving had been their first link. Maybe it would come through for him now and cut through that static.

Inside the cabin, he made himself ignore all the things that threatened to get him choked up, like the untidy kitchen, which he could see by looking through the pocket door. He’d been an ass this morning, raving on about werewolf superiority, but he couldn’t let himself be swamped with regret right now.

He had a job to do. Taking the carving from the mantel, he sat down on her sofa and put it in his lap. Instantly he felt closer to her, as he had all those times when he’d stood beside his own mantel and gazed at her work.

“She’s a great artist.” Lionel settled himself in an easy chair next to the sofa. “Nobody carves wolves the way she does.”

“She has a gift, all right.” Jake looked over at him. “I don’t know how long this will take. You don’t have to sit here unless you—”

“I’ll sit here.” Lionel’s dark gaze was troubled. “The minute you figure out where she is, we’re leaving.”

“That’s if I find out.”

“You will. You have to.”

Jake looked at the kid, whose every muscle was tense with worry. “I know.” Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and spread his hands over the remembered grooves of the wolf carving. Rachel, where are you?

At first he got nothing except a fuzzy transmission that could have been his own thoughts ricocheting around in his brain. He was easily as tense as Lionel. He forced himself to relax and try again. Rachel, where are you?

Jake! I’m in an SUV.

He sucked in a breath. Where?

Alaskan Highway going south.

The bastards had taken her! He gripped the wood. How long?

About fifty minutes.

Color?

Black.

Hang on, Rachel. We’re coming. Watch for my truck.

Hurry, Jake.

I damn well will. Opening his eyes, he stood and carefully laid the carving on the sofa. “Let’s roll.”

“Where is she?”

Jake filled him in as he headed for the front door.

“Should I bring my gun, then?” Lionel followed close behind. “It’s in my truck. I have ammunition.”

Jake debated for a second. He wasn’t a fan of guns, especially the exact rifle that had wounded him a short time ago. He would never shoot any creature. But tires . . . that was a different matter. “Yeah,” he said. “Bring your gun.” He walked out the front door with Lionel right behind him.

“How about my red emergency light?”

“Your what ?” Jake had no idea what the kid was talking about, so he continued out the door and down the path to the parking area, moving fast.

“Just an old one, the bubblegum kind.”

“Why do you have it in the first place?”

“Oh, you know. Something I picked up for fun, to scare my friends.” Lionel hurried to keep up. “You can stick it on the top of your vehicle, and when you turn it on, at first glance you look like a cop.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Well, yeah, but you can get away with stuff like that out here. Not too many cops to catch you doing it. Me and my friends, we play tricks on each other all the time.”

“Okay. That might come in handy.” They reached the parking area and Jake started toward his truck.

“I have a siren, too.”

Jake looked at him and shrugged. “What the hell? Bring everything.” He didn’t know how this would all shake out, but he’d use whatever tools presented themselves. An emergency light and a siren might be just what he needed as a distraction.

Moments later, they were heading toward the highway, going way over the speed limit.

Lionel glanced over at the speedometer. “See, here’s my thought. If we put the bubble light on top, we can fool anybody on the road into thinking we have a right to speed.”

“Except a cop.”

“Which is why I brought my fuzz buster.” Lionel stuck it on the dash. “And my converter plug so we can run everything.”

“Good Lord.” Jake kept his eyes on the road because he really was going way too fast, but with all of Lionel’s paraphernalia, they might get away with racing along like maniacs.

Fortunately, the SUV they were pursuing would be driving at a very sedate pace. Whoever was in the car with Rachel wouldn’t want to be pulled over with a kidnap victim on board. But by the time Jake finished with them, they might wish it had been the real cops who pulled them over.

As they raced along, Jake tried not to worry about Lionel hanging out the window while he used his long arms to slap the bubble light on the roof of the cab. “Don’t fall out, okay?”

“Hey, this is nothing! You should see me doing it while I’m driving!”

“No, thanks!” That was the moment Jake realized he would have to work hard not to be an overprotective father when the time came. Maybe Rachel could help him with that and remind him that all kids, werewolf and human alike, needed space to grow.

Lionel got the light working, and Jake took full advantage of the fact that cars pulled over to let him by. The emergency light was a brilliant concept. They were making excellent time.

“Want me to crank up the siren, Mr. Hunter?”

Jake glanced over at him and recognized the light of battle in the kid’s eyes. “Sure. Let’s give ’em all we’ve got.”

“Awesome.” Lionel added the siren to the mix, and cars pulled over even quicker.

Jake slammed the pedal down and turned the big V8 loose. The truck screamed down the highway. Apparently luck was smiling on them, because they didn’t pass a single cop car as they hurtled along. Jake factored in the speed of the SUV compared with his speed, and when he thought they might be getting close, he told Lionel to keep an eye out for a black SUV.

“We might see more than one, you know,” Lionel said.

“I guess.” Jake thought about that. “But I have a feeling I’m going to know it when we see it.” He couldn’t explain the emotion burning in his chest, but the closer he got to Rachel, the hotter the flame. Those bastards had Rachel. He would stop at nothing to get her back.

From the moment Rachel had made telepathic contact with Jake, she’d had trouble sitting still. She knew he was coming for her. She could feel it.

She almost felt sorry for the two werewolves in the front seat. They had no idea what they were dealing with. Their pursuer had faced down a grizzly to keep her safe. Taking on a couple of thugs like them would be a piece of cake.

When she heard the siren and turned to see the flashing light on the top of Jake’s black truck, she had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing and shouting for joy. Now, this was what she called a rescue!

Mitch glanced in his side-view mirror. “What the fuck is that idiot doing?”

He’s coming for you, Rachel thought with barely controlled glee. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

“Just pull over and let him go by,” Karl said. “He’s probably drunk.”

“Yeah, probably is,” Mitch said. “These backcountry types love to tie one on, don’t they?” He swung the SUV to the side of the road. “Go around, idiot!”

The black truck didn’t go around. Instead it pulled up behind the SUV, its big engine rumbling. The siren stopped screeching and the emergency light switched off.

“Mitch,” Karl said in a low voice. “I think you’d be wise to get the hell out of here. I smell a Were in that truck.”