Page 44 of Crimson Moon Falling

Chapter 13

Riley

I ran my fingers through Mangus’s thick black fur, searching for wounds or a pulse. The implant rattled off his vitals. Shallow respiration. Steady heart rate. Pupils responsive to light. But beneath my calm exterior, something raw and terrified clawed at my ribs.

“Hey, big boy, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

His ear twitched, and a low, rumbling sound vibrated through his massive body. Athena stopped pacing and came over to sniff him. Her white fur and maw were streaked with blood and gore, but it didn’t appear to be hers.

My head shot up, and I frantically looked around for the Betas and Gunnar. My partner’s shoulder and chest were split open like a ripe peach.

Jamie appeared beside me, pressing a hand to his face as dark blood dripped down his chin.

“What happened to the Commander?” He grimaced when he saw Gunnar.

Marlowe was gone. He’d stood ten feet in front of me, and I let him go because Mangus went down, the choice making itself. The implant logged the decision without judgment. For a split second, I pressed my forehead against Mangus’s broad, warm skull and breathed in his terrible scent.

“He’s gone.” I took off my backpack and fished around for my extra shirt. The gash across Gunnar’s shoulder was deep enough to show tendons and muscle, and blood soaked the left side of his jacket.

“Those sons of a bitches are fast,” Gunnar grunted in pain.

“They’re enhanced.” We needed to get off this mountain and get medical attention.

Mangus exhaled a long, sulfurous breath, and his tail scraped against the dirt. Sharp relief hit me.

Marlowe had an implant, and he’d turned himself into whatever I was now. He’d also shot one of his own people to keep me safe and told me he wasn’t going to kidnap me again. But what did he want from me? Even the implant couldn’t reason out Marlowe’s actions.

Freda strode over with a combat medical kit and knelt next to Gunnar. The troll’s face was a sickly gray beneath his natural green pallor.

“Hold still.” Her eye was swollen, and she had scrapes and bruises along her left side, but otherwise she looked okay. “I’m going to press this bandage on your shoulder, right on the deepest gash. It will hurt, but you’re losing too much blood.”

“Everything already hurts,” Gunnar grunted. He hissed when she pressed the gauze deep into the wound, his jaw clenching hard enough that I heard his molars grinding.

I turned to Jamie. Blood soaked the left side of his face and neck. It looked like a bullet had grazed the outside of his orbital bone, and his aviator sunglasses were gone.

I gently tilted his head toward the fading light and studied the wound, the implant keeping my hands steady. “You’re lucky,” I murmured. “Another quarter inch and we’d be picking bullet fragments out of your brain.”

He breathed out shakily. “It hurts like a motherfucker, and it won’t stop bleeding.”

“It looks like something hit your eye. I don’t know whether it was your sunglasses or shrapnel, and I’m unsure whether to apply pressure. We need to get you to a hospital.” I handed him my clean shirt, letting him decide how to use it. I felt so useless.

Freda motioned for me to take over putting pressure on Gunnar’s shoulder. Then she pulled out her knife and strode toward the downed operatives. “I need to check them.”

Athena stood over her kill, eating something wet and bloody. I swallowed and looked away. Freda didn’t bother to check whether that operative was still alive. As she looked over each body, she efficiently removed their weapons and personal effects. When she assessed the operative who lay crumpled on the ground at an odd angle, she reached in and slit the man’s throat.

I stopped watching and pulled out the satellite phone Conall had insisted I take with me. Beau Harlan picked up on the second ring.

“Beau, it’s Riley.” The implant helped me stay calm. “We were attacked in the backcountry and have two seriously injured. We also have confirmed dead hostiles and need immediate extraction and medical support.” I rattled off our GPS location.

Silence stretched. “What in god’s name happened, Blackthorne?”

“We ran into Commander Marlowe and Apex operatives on the Mary Mountain Trail.” I gave a brief explanation, but didn’t mention the hellhounds or Athena biting off one of their heads. He didn’t need all the details. “Gunnar’s losing blood, and Jamie took a round to the face. Freda and I are operational.”

Another pause. I could hear him breathing and the soft click of a keyboard. “Air support will be en route shortly.” He gave me an ETA. “Do I need to call Alpha Segerson?”

“I’ll contact him myself. Thank you.” I exhaled and disconnected. “They’re coming. It’ll be an hour.”

Gunnar nodded once, his massive head sagging against his pack. His breathing had grown labored, and bleeding had slowed but not stopped. Trolls were tough, but they weren’t immortal.