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Authors: Marcy Jacks
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he jumped back to avoid the sharp blade of Deacon’s machete, something he hadn’t been aware was there caught his feet. When he landed on his back, the air whooshed out of his lungs, and for a few seconds he had trouble breathing.
“You little shit,” Deacon snarled. “Do you really think it matters if you yell it out? I’ll kill everyone here. Then I’ll go and claim the omegas and have a full pack again, and it won’t matter if everyone here can see that I’m alive. They’re all dead anyway.”
No, they weren’t, Adam wanted to say but couldn’t because of the trouble he had catching his breath. He could still see that there were more of Deacon’s men dead and down than there were of James’s.
James’s pack would win this fight and chase away Deacon with hardly any more bloodshed now that the tear gas had blown away.
It made Adam feel better as he held still while Deacon lifted the
machete over his head, ready to make the killing swipe.
Adam closed his eyes. I’m coming, Nick.
So am I.
66 Marcy Jacks
Chapter Eight
Nick was aware of a bluish-looking fog that completely surrounded him when he opened his eyes. Then it occurred to him that he was seeing something. It was all color, and no shape, much the same as it had been in the last days before he’d lost his sight completely, but it was there.
I really am dead, he thought.
Then he tried to breathe, and he choked as the water invaded his
nose and lungs.
No. Not dead. Maybe drowning, but not dead yet.
He came above the water with a splash, choking and gasping, spitting up the water he’d breathed in and struggling to grab hold of the bank of the pond.
He got it, grabbing some long grass in his fist. He pulled himself onto dry land, heaved himself to his hands and knees, and retched.
The puking and heaving was only because he’d taken in so much water to begin with. The funny thing was how he needed to crawl back to the pond to rinse his mouth out when he’d finished.
He could still see that same color of faded blue. Adam’s smiling face appeared in front of him, clear as day over top of the blur of bright, beautiful color that was everything else.
For a second, Nick thought he might actually be standing there. “Adam?”
No answer. Adam just kept right on smiling at him, and then he waved, motioning toward something else in that excited way he did whenever something had caught his attention.
He looked just like Nick remembered.
The Blind Werewolf Assassin 67
Then Adam vanished, a slow fade-out that made Nick panic.
“Adam! Wait!”
He didn’t. Adam disappeared. Then so did all the blurring colors at the edge of Nick’s vision, and he wanted to cry.
His eyes. He’d thought they were…He thought he was going to see again, but everything was black and colorless once more.
Nick took in a deep breath to calm himself. He was all right. He was going to be okay.
Was he? Nick had the sudden recollection that he’d been shot. He
reached his hand up to his chest, gently probing his fingers along, searching for the wound that he’d definitely felt going in, and found nothing.
His courage, and disbelief, went up a few notches when the first inspection turned up nothing. But there had to be something there!
Using his whole palm, Nick rubbed around his chest, but still found no stinging, gaping wound.
It was like he hadn’t been shot at all.
Nick let his fingers dip into the cool water of the pond. Had this
water…?
Those hunters! The hunters who weren’t hunters. Maybe that was why Nick hadn’t noticed them until it was too late. Maybe part of the reason also stemmed from the fact that he’d been too busy having sexto bother with anything else. That Gerard person’s scent was already in the air, and if Nick had noticed that in the back of his mind, then he
must have shrugged it off.
Not
“You little shit,” Deacon snarled. “Do you really think it matters if you yell it out? I’ll kill everyone here. Then I’ll go and claim the omegas and have a full pack again, and it won’t matter if everyone here can see that I’m alive. They’re all dead anyway.”
No, they weren’t, Adam wanted to say but couldn’t because of the trouble he had catching his breath. He could still see that there were more of Deacon’s men dead and down than there were of James’s.
James’s pack would win this fight and chase away Deacon with hardly any more bloodshed now that the tear gas had blown away.
It made Adam feel better as he held still while Deacon lifted the
machete over his head, ready to make the killing swipe.
Adam closed his eyes. I’m coming, Nick.
So am I.
66 Marcy Jacks
Chapter Eight
Nick was aware of a bluish-looking fog that completely surrounded him when he opened his eyes. Then it occurred to him that he was seeing something. It was all color, and no shape, much the same as it had been in the last days before he’d lost his sight completely, but it was there.
I really am dead, he thought.
Then he tried to breathe, and he choked as the water invaded his
nose and lungs.
No. Not dead. Maybe drowning, but not dead yet.
He came above the water with a splash, choking and gasping, spitting up the water he’d breathed in and struggling to grab hold of the bank of the pond.
He got it, grabbing some long grass in his fist. He pulled himself onto dry land, heaved himself to his hands and knees, and retched.
The puking and heaving was only because he’d taken in so much water to begin with. The funny thing was how he needed to crawl back to the pond to rinse his mouth out when he’d finished.
He could still see that same color of faded blue. Adam’s smiling face appeared in front of him, clear as day over top of the blur of bright, beautiful color that was everything else.
For a second, Nick thought he might actually be standing there. “Adam?”
No answer. Adam just kept right on smiling at him, and then he waved, motioning toward something else in that excited way he did whenever something had caught his attention.
He looked just like Nick remembered.
The Blind Werewolf Assassin 67
Then Adam vanished, a slow fade-out that made Nick panic.
“Adam! Wait!”
He didn’t. Adam disappeared. Then so did all the blurring colors at the edge of Nick’s vision, and he wanted to cry.
His eyes. He’d thought they were…He thought he was going to see again, but everything was black and colorless once more.
Nick took in a deep breath to calm himself. He was all right. He was going to be okay.
Was he? Nick had the sudden recollection that he’d been shot. He
reached his hand up to his chest, gently probing his fingers along, searching for the wound that he’d definitely felt going in, and found nothing.
His courage, and disbelief, went up a few notches when the first inspection turned up nothing. But there had to be something there!
Using his whole palm, Nick rubbed around his chest, but still found no stinging, gaping wound.
It was like he hadn’t been shot at all.
Nick let his fingers dip into the cool water of the pond. Had this
water…?
Those hunters! The hunters who weren’t hunters. Maybe that was why Nick hadn’t noticed them until it was too late. Maybe part of the reason also stemmed from the fact that he’d been too busy having sexto bother with anything else. That Gerard person’s scent was already in the air, and if Nick had noticed that in the back of his mind, then he
must have shrugged it off.
Not
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