The Scarlet Hunter

Chapter 18

Isla was hanging from a saddle in a tree, waiting for Galan and his team to drive four rogues her way. Peter and Alex were nearby.

The night breeze blew the stray hairs from her over-the-shoulder braid around, and she calmed her mind, feeling for the approaching wolves.

She knew from the chatter that Galan and his team were not near the rogues. They had been elusive, but Galan was still able to encourage them towards Isla.

Gamma Jax came through the mindlink. "If you can, don't kill them, just injure them. We would like to get information from them."

"Acknowledged."

"Peter, Alex, be extra alert. I am going to try and injure, not kill them. Being in this saddle makes me even more of a target than usual. And a wounded werewolf is a hell of a lot less predictable than a dead one."

They both acknowledged her.

She felt the first rogue approach, the second one not far behind. Their spirits, their auras, traveling out of view. Her senses were focused on where she knew they were, even though she couldn't see them.

"Four o'clock," she linked to Peter and Alex.

Pull, breathe, hold, breathe... the first wolf came around a tree into a clearing... aim, release, hold... the arrow landed in his rear thigh. His yelp echoed through the valley.

The next wolf was too late to stop and was in the clearing while Isla had her second arrow pulled back, breathe, aim, release, hold... the wolf moved, and the arrow landed in his gut.

She hated to see anyone suffer, but she was saving their lives.

She mindlinked to Galan and Jax, "Two rogues injured and down. Be careful on your approach."

Galan came through, "ETA three minutes."

Jax was next, "ETA twelve minutes."

"They'll survive that long so long as they don't do anything stupid," Isla responded.

Speaking of which, the first victim was on three feet and tried to tripod out of there. Isla, already prepared, aimed and took out his other rear leg.

Stay down.

Please.

The fallen rogues were on their sides, panting, not moving. Their limbs were limp as they tried to reason with the reality of their injuries. Isla continued to observe from the saddle that suspended her in the tree. She calmed herself to feel for the others. There were supposed to be more. She reached out, like tentacles roaming across the landscape, searching. She realized that malice was close, wrapping around it, when she heard bones breaking near the base of the tree.

"Climber!" She linked to Peter and Alex and drew one of her throwing knives. There was no way she could pull back her string at this angle. This was what the weakness of her strategy looked like.

The naked male, with a half-crazed look on his face, ascended the tree underneath her. His claws in the trunk, his teeth extended. He let out a growl as he leaped the first few feet towards her.

She might have to sacrifice an injury to her foot to stab him in the neck. Pulling his target higher, she waited for the inevitable piercing delivered by either his mouth or his paws.

A blur of brown passed by, and he fell to the ground filling the air with snarls and cries before Alex ripped out his throat.

Another blur of gray passed under the tree, and the smell of a rogue hit Isla. Drop knife, grab arrow, pull, aim, release, whoosh. The projectile landed deep in the wolf's retreating hind leg, and he slid to his resting spot near Alex.