A Fistfull of Charms(48)

My knees went wobbly at the expanse of stony beach between me and the surf line. The sun was sparkling on the water, and the waves looked formidable past the slight protection of the inlet. Two Weres with weapons were facing the forest, while two more readied to move the first boat, confident they would hear anyone coming from the water long before they were close enough to be a threat. They were right.
A last slow breath, and I trotted out, walking right into the cold water and rolling. Immediately I lost my need to pant, the water freezing without Marshal’s amulet. My first feeling that having this second faction of Weres seeing our gear was bad luck shifted to possibly good luck. Nick couldn’t survive water this cold, and now Jenks and I would only have to take out five people, not whatever they had at the marina waiting for us.
There was an attention-getting yap, and I swung my head up, going still as a startled wolf might. But I would have frozen anyway. Five people were watching me, four with weapons and one with teeth. I think it was this last one that scared me the most. Damn, he was big.
My pulse jackhammered. I had nowhere to go but the woods, and if I was recognized as being more than a wolf, they would be on me in seconds. Fortunately, their expressions were curious, not suspicious.
A small movement behind them evolved into Jenks, and I fought with my instincts to watch him, instead pricking my ears and staring at them as if wondering if they were going to throw me the meat from their picnic lunch.
The men were talking softly, their hands loose on their weapons. Two wanted to lure me closer with food, and they told the one in fur to back off before he scared me.
Idiots, I thought, sparing them no pity when Jenks fell on them from behind. Screaming wildly, he swung his leaf-born stick and bludgeoned the first into unconsciousness before the rest even knew they were under attack. I sprang into movement, feeling like I was in molasses until I was free of the water. Jenks was a blur as he fought, but it was the Were in fur that I was worried about, and I ran across the rocky beach, flinging myself at his hindquarters.Even now they didn’t get it, and he turned with a yelp, surprised to find me on him.
Snarling, I fell away, hackles raised. Giving a short bark of realization, he sprang forward, ears back. Holy shit, he was huge, almost four times my current weight. Spine protesting, I skittered back, my only goal to remain out from between his teeth.
Immediately I knew I was in trouble. I couldn’t put any distance between us. Pam had fought like a choreographed dancer. This guy was military, and I was way outclassed. Fear slipped into me, and I shifted directions erratically, zigzagging across the rocky beach, my bruised foot slipping on the smooth stones. A great paw hit me and I went sprawling.
Adrenaline pulsed, and I yipped as he fell on me. On my back, I clawed at his face, struggling to wiggle out. His breath was hot and his tongue was tattooed with a clover.
“Enough!” Jenks shouted, but neither of us paid any attention until a short burst of gunfire sent him jerking off me.
Panting, I flipped to my feet. Three men were unconscious, bleeding about their heads. A fourth looked sullen but beaten soundly. Jenks stood alone. The sun shone on his black tights and blond curls, and the semiautomatic in his hands gave his Peter Pan pose some threat.
“Nick!” he yelled, hefting the weapon. “Get out here. I need you to watch them for a sec. Think you can do that, crap for brains?”
The two Weres tensed when Nick wobbled out, but at Jenks’s threat, they remained still. They shifted again when Jenks handed Nick his weapon, glancing among themselves as Nick held it with markedly less proficiency. Faces ugly, they settled back, clearly waiting.
With that gunfire, we had only minutes until all hell broke loose, and while Nick held them at a muscle-fatigued, shaking standstill, Jenks took the spark plugs from all but one boat, throwing them into the water with all the weapons he could find.
“Rache?” he said, gesturing from the boat he had chosen, and I willingly jumped onto it, nails skittering on the fiberglass deck. Slipping, I fell into the cockpit and the fake grass carpet. Our gear and wet suits were a pleasant surprise. I hadn’t been looking forward to finding out what their loss would have done to my credit card balance. Marshal would be pleased.
Nick was next, wading out to the side and handing Jenks the weapon before lurching over the side. Cracked lip between his teeth, he cranked the engine as the requests for information coming from the radio on the beach grew intense.
Still in the water, Jenks pushed the boat out with one hand, keeping the weapon trained on them with the other. My mouth dropped when he flung himself up into a blackflip to land on the bow of the boat. The semiautomatic never lost its aim. The two Weres blinked but didn’t move. “What, by Cerberus, are you?” one asked, clearly shocked. 
“I’m Jenks!” he called back, clearly in an expansive mood, catching his balance when Nick revved the engine. Jenks turned the near fall into a graceful motion, slipping into the cockpit to stand beside me, weapon still pointed. Nick idled us around, then jammed the lever full throttle. Staggering, I caught my balance. Jenks doffed his hat to the watching Weres and laughed, throwing his weapon into our wake.
We sped away as the first of the returning Weres came boiling out of the forest, all snapping teeth and barking voices. Someone was already in the water looking for the spark plugs. We had done it—for the moment. All that was left was to make it across the straits without swamping ourselves in the heavy waves and get lost in the general populace. Then there was the matter of how to get Nick safe. And me, seeing that my cover was blown and every Were east of the Mississippi knew I had Nick—who knew where the statue was, whatever the statue was.
I squinted into the wind, my breath escaping in a doggy huff when I realized Nick’s rescue was only starting. What could he have possibly stolen that was worth all this?
Jenks reach across and tunked the gas lever to slow us down. “How did you know how to use that weapon?” Nick asked him, his voice rough and his hands shaking on the wheel. He was squinting in the bright light as if he hadn’t seen it for days. He probably hadn’t.
Jenks grinned as we jostled over the waves, hitting every one wrong. His bandage was falling off, but his mood was both exhilarated and triumphant. “Ah-nold,” he said, hitting an Austrian accent hard, and I barked in laughter.
I watched the island retreat behind us, relieved no one was following—yet. It would only take minutes to lose ourselves in the light boat traffic, maybe fifteen to reach the mainland. We would ditch the boat, keeping the gear to return to Marshal when we could. I didn’t care if we had to take it to Cincy with us, he was going to get his stuff back.
Jenks tunked the speed down some more, and Nick tunked it back up. I couldn’t blame him, but the waves were bouncing us around like a piece of popcorn. Jenks handled the jostling better than me despite my four feet against his two, and he started rummaging, opening every panel and lifting every seat. It was his pixy curiosity, and feeling ill, I wobbled to Nick, put my head into his lap and gave him the sad-puppy-dog-eyes look, hoping he’d slow our pace. Burn my britches if it didn’t work, and smiling for the first time since I’d found him, he dropped a thin hand to my head before he decreased the speed.
“Sorry, Ray-ray,” he murmured over the noise of the engine. “I can’t…I can’t go back.” He swallowed hard and his breath quickened. “But you did it. Thank you. I owe you one. I owe you my life.” Hands trembling, he met my eyes, his grip on the plastic-coated wheel clenching and releasing. “I thought you were dead. You have to believe me.”
I did. He wouldn’t have left that rose in the jelly-jar vase if he hadn’t.
Jenks made a call of discovery. “Anyone hungry?” he shouted over the wind and engine. “I found their food stores.”
Nick jerked. “I’m starved,” he said, all but panicked as he looked over his shoulder.
Jenks’s first ugly face emptied when he saw Nick’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said softly, gesturing for Nick to move. “I guess you are. You eat. I’ll drive.”
I jumped up onto the copilot’s chair to get out of the way, and Nick stood unsteadily, gripping the boat and shaking with the thumping of the waves. He wobbled to the back bench, taking a moment to arrange the wool blanket Jenks had found about his shoulders before settling himself and ripping open energy bars with his teeth since his nails were torn to the quick.Jenks took his place behind the wheel. He turned the boat slightly to the bridge, and the ride smoothed out. I watched the play of emotions over his smooth face. I knew he was as mad as a jilted troll at the altar that Nick had led his son astray, but seeing Nick beaten, abused, and so weak he could hardly open that stupid wrapper, it was hard not to feel sorry for him.
Just wanting Jenks to lighten up a little, I put my head in his lap and peered up at him.
“Don’t look at me like that, Rache,” Jenks said, his eyes scanning the approaching shoreline for the run-down marina we had planned out earlier as a possible landfall. “I saw you pull it on Nick, and it doesn’t work on me. I have fifty-four kids, and it won’t work.”
Sighing heavily, I arched my wolf eyebrows. Sure enough, he glanced down.
“Tink’s panties,” he muttered. “Okay. I’ll be nicer. But as soon as he’s better, I’m going to punch him.”