“Coffee?” he asked after a minute, not turning to look.
“You got cream?”
Harlan turned to find Penny staring out the window at the fresh snowfall.
“Yeah.”
He fixed her a cup and left it on the counter with the cream, taking his own cup and retreating to his armchair. He couldn’t afford a repeat of yesterday’s little scene on the couch, better to sit where Penny couldn’t join him.
“Thanks,” Penny said, taking her cup and sitting on the couch across from him. “So… there’s even more snow today, looks like.”
“Yep.”
“I hate to say this, Harlan, but I think you might be stuck with me for a couple of days,” Penny said. A blush rose in her cheeks after a moment, making Harlan wonder what she was thinking. She was too far away for him to scent her, but yesterday her desire for him had been plain enough. Resisting her pheromones in the air was one of the hardest things Harlan had ever done.
Hell, if she hadn’t just been through a terrible ordeal and almost froze to death in the woods, Harlan wouldn’t have even tried.
“You’re going up to the main lodge tonight, actually,” Harlan said, squirming in his seat, trying to disguise his body’s response to her presence. “I’m the one who’s leaving.”
“What? Why?” Penny’s brow creased. “You’re going to leave me here with a bunch of crazy hunters?”
“I admit, it’s not ideal,” Harlan said. An understatement. “I’m going to lead them off into the wilderness, away from town. That’s why I’m leaving. I already stocked the main lodge and set up a couple of the rooms in the event of the cabin generators going down, so you’ll have plenty of firewood and food. Wifi, even, as long as the power doesn’t go out.”
Penny’s incredulous expression made Harlan’s lips lift at the corners.
“You guys have internet out here?”
“We’re loners, not cavemen,” Harlan said.
“Man, I wish I’d brought my laptop from my car,” Penny sighed. “I don’t know what I’d even look at, though. My Facebook is all weddings and babies, which I find depressing. And there aren’t any good job postings for art teachers in the middle of the school year, which is even sadder.”
After a moment she shook her head.
“Sorry. You don’t need to know all that,” she said.
“It’s okay,” Harlan said. And it was, really; immediate threats of hunters and werewolves aside, a little part of him was mulling over her other problems, seeking a solution.
He wanted to help her, which was… yeah, totally outside the norm for him.
A crackling electronic noise made him jump. Harlan and Penny looked toward the sound, coming from a walkie-talking sitting on its charging base next to the front door.
“H, we got company,” came a staticky voice. Chase. “They’re tripping sensors on the property line. We got about fifteen minutes before they’re in our hair.”
“Shit. Okay.” Harlan jumped up, grabbing for his jacket as he shoved his feet into his boots. “The hunters are back. They don’t know you’re here, and I want to keep it that way. Hunker down in the bedroom. Lock the door, and don’t come out for anyone except me. Got it?”
Penny’s eyes were wide, but she nodded and stood.
“Go,” Harlan said, shooing her.
Penny scampered into the hallway, looking back at him a couple of times. Only when the bedroom door closed and he heard the lock turn did Harlan lace up his boots.
Rifle and extra cartons of shells in hand, Harlan locked up the cabin and jogged out to one of the makeshift firing turrets the Triad had set up. The lodge sat on high ground, surrounded by lots of low-lying woods. Chase had already found the three strongest defense points when Harlan and Paxton arrived, and eventually they’d set up camouflaged blinds.
Like for deer hunters, except in this scenario, the wolves were both predator and prey. The hunters were coming to attack the Triad, nail their pelts to a wall somewhere, but soon they’d find things turned around on them.
Right on time, as soon as Harlan was crouched and ready in the blind, three guys in full Ghillie suits emerged from the woods. They were covered head to toe in white and green camo resembling snowy leaves, and when they stopped walking they sunk into the background, almost undetectable.
Almost. Thanks to Harlan’s super senses, he could still pick them out. These assholes had probably spent thousands on the suits alone, not to mention all the military-grade weapons and equipment they were undoubtedly carrying.
It turned Harlan’s stomach. Didn’t they realize that the werewolves they were hunting were also human beings a good portion of the time? It was sick. The thought made him even more angry that Chase had ordered the Triad not to kill the hunters if it could be helped.
Apparently killing humans on Chase’s land would only make werewolves look like vicious, untamed murderers… no matter how bad the human hunters might be.
Harlan looked down the scope of his rifle, taking careful aim. He released five quick shots, hitting low hanging tree branches and piles of snow above the hunters’ heads. One dropped right where he stood, hands flying up to protect his head as he dove into a snow bank.
Amateur.
The other two at least had the sense to take cover behind a cluster of trees. One of them gestured to the others, giving Harlan the impression that he was in charge of their little group.
Then again, for all their fancy equipment, these guys weren’t likely to be ex-military. They might have a little paramilitary training, but if they were anything special they’d have caught the Triad unawares in the first place. It would be better for Harlan not to assume that they’d use classic USMC moves.
Just like Syria. Disorganized, disjointed, and even more dangerous. The randomness of it made the enemy deadly.
Focusing on them, Harlan shot around them in a lazy circle, careful not to get too close. Warning them, if they’d only listen. A real soldier would recognize Harlan’s abilities, see that fucking with the Winter Pass wolves was a very bad idea.
Over his shoulder, he heard the softest rustle. He tensed and turned, expecting an animal of some kind, maybe Chase or Pax.
Not the camo-suited goon standing only ten feet away, pointing a sleek black handgun right at Harlan’s chest.
“Slowly,” the man said, cocking the gun. “Put your hands on your head and stand up, shit bird.”
Rage flared bright in Harlan’s chest. His wolf rose, and he let it come, though he didn’t let his wolf pull him into a shift.
Harlan released a truly threatening snarl, his wolf’s voice pouring from his human throat. The hunter stared at Harlan, knowing that Harlan was seconds from shifting and potentially ripping him to shreds. A strong whiff of panic rolled off the guy, and the gun trembled in his hand.
Coward. Wasn’t this the fight the hunter had been looking for?
Harlan sidestepped, drawing the gunman along with him, trying to find a way to weaken him, back him into a tree or make him trip over a rock.
The human surprised him by firing a shot, barely missing Harlan’s right hip. Then another, and another.
If the guy’s hand hadn’t been shaking so hard, Harlan would be in serious