Page 2 of Father of the Wolf

A pack.

Four large dogs moved toward the other end of the alley. In this urban area, a pack of scavenging, possibly feral dogs would be a menace. A shiver slid down Hope’s spine. The animals crept forward with a stealth that felt threatening and dangerous, as if they were hunting.

But what were they hunting?

She felt helpless. Tracking a pack was the responsibility of animal control. Already the dogs were near the other end of the alley, almost out of sight. With a shrug she turned to go back to the clinic. Her feet froze when she heard a short, cut-off scream. What the hell was that? She spun back, dropping the lead in shock at what she saw.

The dogs were gone, and in their place were men.

The scream had come from a terrified woman who continued whimpering as she was pinned against the wall by the biggest of the brutes.

Three others surrounded them.

Hope followed her instincts and yelled down the alley, “Hey! Stop, leave her alone!” She had to help the woman any way she could. Oh, shit. Damn her misleading instincts.

All eyes turned in her direction.

Hope’s heart slammed painfully in her chest, while time seemed to hold the world still within the moment.

The man holding the woman slammed her violently against the wall and dropped her on the ground in an unmoving heap. Then he stalked toward Hope. In the darkness of the alley, the shadows seemed to cling to him. They were too far away and too dark. The men’s features were blurred beyond identification.

The one man kept coming toward her.

She stepped back. Fear shivered through her. She wasn’t getting out of this one. Tonight, her legs barely managed to keep her upright. She gasped as each jarring step drove shards of pain through her leg from knee to hip.

What would he do to her? Somehow, she knew he wasn’t simply planning to chase her off. She could almost feel his hatred in the touch of his angry gaze. He’d hurt her, kill her, or worse.

Still forty or fifty feet from the clinic door, she halted. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Help!” Hope yelled. No one will hear me. The streets were empty, and the clinic was the only all-night business on the block. But she screamed again anyway. She also turned and quickened her awkward steps, praying to at least reach the main street with its slightly better lighting.

She looked back. Two of the other men now flanked the first. The fourth stayed with the woman, kneeling beside her, doing who knew what.

Strange. They’d yet to make a single sound. There were no threatening words. No heavy breathing. No sound of footsteps. Hell, not even their damned clothing rubbed together. The only sounds she heard were her own pounding heart, gasping breath, and dragging steps.

She limped away from them, looking back several times, trying desperately to see the man’s features so she could identify him if she did get away. No, not if. When, she got away.

Almost to the road! The leader’s stalk turned into a languid jog. The other two men froze in place.

The rumble of an engine cut into the quiet. Headlights and relief flooded over Hope as the car drew closer. She stumbled onto the edge of the road, waving her hands and yelling to get the driver’s attention. With his or her help she’d scare off the men, and then call the police and an ambulance. The woman on the ground needed medical attention.

Hope glanced back down the alley to see which way the men went so she could tell the police. But they hadn’t left. They’d only sunk back into the shadows, into near invisibility.

The Buick slowed at her waving, and then went right by. The driver and his passenger stared at her out the window.

How could they not stop?

Shit. She’d have to take a rain check on salvation. Just her kind of luck. She’d have to save herself, so she’d better keep moving.

Only the leader continued toward her. The others were gone. No. They’d gone back to the woman. One threw her limp body over his shoulder. Was she unconscious, or dead?

At the other side of the road, Hope wondered why the man only walked, as if to taunt her. As if he had no doubt about his ability to do whatever he wished to her or to anyone.

And to be honest, she believed it. It was all too creepy. The confusing facts didn't add up. The men’s intensity. Their lack of sound. The damned shadows that clung to them.

The man, not more than fifteen feet away now, walked directly at her, yet she still couldn't make out his face. He was tall and broad shouldered, but like a shadow, he lacked any details to identify. All the features the police would want. She couldn’t tell what clothes he wore, his face, eye color, or even the color of his hair.

Even if she got away, they’d never catch this man. Self-disgust filled her at the thought of being a helpless victim all because she chased after a stupid homeless dog. She stumbled forward another step, then another. She had to make it to the clinic. She had to…

---