Something About Harry(104)

Mara took off, pumping her legs harder than she ever had in her life. Harder than when Sloan and Keegan had raced her to home base when they played tag. Harder than when she’d run track against Lavinia Meyers in high school, her toughest opponent in all of paranormal-ville.

She ran harder because she knew—she knew what Leah had done, and there couldn’t be much time left—if there was any at all.

If she let it, the horror of it, the sick, twisted plot involved to pull it off would thwart her, wear her down until she wouldn’t be able to move a muscle.

Leah had buried the kids and Jeff alive.


* * *


THEY all came to a screeching halt in the exact spot marked on the map. Harry flung Leah’s semiconscious body down on the ground, the air wheezing from his lungs.

Nina had wrapped Guido’s wound with Harry’s shirt, pulling it tight under his arm to stop the bleeding.

Wanda grabbed Mara’s hand with trembling fingers, looking out at the vast expanse of nothing but snow-covered ground and miles of rock. “Where are they, Mara? I can’t smell anything! I know these kids now. I know their scent!”

Marty lifted Leah up by the front of her shirt, shaking her so hard Mara heard her teeth rattle, then hurled her back to the hard surface beneath their feet. “Tell us where the children are now!” she screamed down at a broken and battered Leah, her hands balled, the wind pushing at her slender body.

“You’ll never find them. Never, ever.” Leah wheezed a giggle from the ground before Nina planted a foot on her chest and drove it into her flesh, making her scream in pain.

“Shut the fuck up, fruity, or I’m gonna shoot your ass myself!”

Harry began to pace, his heart thudding in his ears like thunder itself. He sniffed the air—nothing. Jesus Christ, there had to be at least a million square miles of rock. Piles and piles of rocks. It was getting colder by the minute, and he couldn’t smell them. What good was this damn werewolf thing if he couldn’t smell them? “I don’t get it, Mara!” He yelled the words over the wind that had begun to swoosh in heavy gusts. “How can they be here? I can’t smell them either!”

Mara dropped to the ground on all fours by the first grouping of rocks, stacked taller than he was. She placed her ear to it, her hair flying around her head in a tangled mass of ebony. “She’s covered their scent with something. Now, shhh! Listen, Harry! We have to listen! Listen and look—look for anywhere the dirt is soft.”

The stacks of granite were endless. Why weren’t they ripping them apart? What good was all this superhuman strength if they didn’t use it? Harry’s hands reached to the top to begin pulling the rocks down, away from their tiny faces.

“No!” Mara screamed, bolting upright and pushing at him. “Don’t just start haphazardly throwing things around! What if they cave, Harry? If I’m right and they’re under this mess, we can’t afford for it to collapse!” Squeezing his hands, Mara fell back to the ground, pressing her ears back to the sharp edges of the rocks.

She was right.

Fear clawed at his throat, terror ripped a hole in his gut, but he dropped on all fours right along with her and listened.

“They’re going to die. Everyone’s going to die.” Leah laughed on an ugly gurgle of blood. “There’ll be no playing mommy for you!”

Harry’s eyes flew to Leah’s body but feet away from him and he fought the urge to rip her face off.

Nina leaned down next to her, raising her fist up high, she brought it down on Leah’s jaw, the crack of impact slipping to his ears on the wind. She hauled Leah with her, clamping her ankles as she, too, dropped on all fours and listened.

His chest was tight—so tight he thought he’d never take another breath again without laboring.

Focus, Harry. Find the kids. Donna will kill you if you don’t find the kids.

He began crawling along the face of the rocks, his ear scraping the ground as he went, inching his fingers across the rough edges, willing himself to focus.

Donna’s gone, Harry. She’s never coming back. You’re all they have. They need you. Find the kids, Harry. If you do nothing else with this werewolf gig, use it to help you find the kids. Listen. Listen for Mimi’s breathing—you know it. You’ve heard it a million times while she napped on your lap. You know the pattern.

But what if she wasn’t . . .

Don’t think about it, Harry! Find the kids.

And then he heard it. That slight hitch, the adorable little hiccup Mimi always made when she was sound asleep.

Use your ears, Harry—follow the sound. He crawled. He crawled for all he was worth.