Pawn Among Wolves Ch. 14

Story Info
She is used in a fight between werewolves.
23.4k words
4.82
28.6k
56

Part 15 of the 20 part series

Updated 10/27/2022
Created 01/05/2012
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Gemma stopped driving quite so cautiously once they were out of the city limits and on the highway; she was by then more familiar with the response of the car: the delicious, eager response of the low-slung, purring power of the car.

Her pulse was jumping erratically; her internal wolf was exhilarated, that half of her trembling on full alert, watching for and reacting to the obstacles which appeared in the headlights faster than she could think. Which was necessary at this speed.

Her heart was beating hard, insistently against her ribs, urging Faster! Faster!

For Bethan and Kate, this speed was necessary.

She heard a muffled, frustrated grunt from behind her, and a waft of amusement pulsed anew from Hakan, hulking beside her in the deep leather passenger seat, while he glanced back again at her other two guards.

"You just wait until we pick up the A," Erik growled vengefully at her chief bodyguard, the words barely audible around the kneecaps that were jammed against his face.

Hakan grinned.

Mac was right that the wolves couldn't drive - and they didn't know much about cars either. Erik had simply requested the fastest car that the garage had had, so long as it could fit four people in it. The result was that Gemma was now driving the most sleek, responsive car that she'd ever been in, while trying to see past the thicket of wide knees wedged against the ceiling that were obscuring the view out of the back window. The hire car representative had initially looked relieved when Gemma had appeared at the desk to pick up the keys; later his eyes had widened incredulously and jaw dropped when the tiny woman had stood hopping about with impatience while two of the huge hulks accompanying her had tried to cram themselves into the tiny back space misleadingly advertised as twin seats.

"Uh - we have a larger model," he'd begun, blinking at the curvaceous little brunette now checking that she'd be able to reach the pedals if she adjusted the driver's seat as far forward as it would go. "Maybe -."

"No, no, this is great," the older, dark-haired powerful man on the passenger side had interrupted, shoving hard at a protruding leg to force it to bend into the back, ignoring the half-sworn yelp and slamming his own seat into place. "We need the speed, thanks."

That had been true, so Gemma had let Hakan get away with it. Her stomach was churning now as she repetitively gnawed and licked healed her bottom lip, worry seething through her while they streaked along the straight road North-West through the dark night. She overtook another car which barely seemed to be moving, distractedly thankful for her internal wolf, which found this speed as easy to deal with as her human self did her usual much gentler driving pace.

Naomi has lost his trail, Mac conveyed tersely. Grey's been picked up by a vehicle -a wolf vehicle - as I suspected.

Gemma floored the gas pedal, and the car leapt forwards like an eager racehorse.

Don't stop for me, her mate decided. The girls are driving so fast that I can probably intercept you where you're going to meet anyway, more-or-less.

Hakan kept flashing conveyance of any visible roadsigns to the Alpha, while he also held the handset to his Alfamme's ear. In the other car, Bethan was reading the roadsigns that she and Kate passed aloud to Gemma in a breathless voice, and the wereem conveyed them on. Luke was back at the house, keeping track on the map for them all, and apprising the wolves on their relative positions while Gemma kept a rolling update to her human friends of how close they were getting to each other.

Gemma's stomach was tightening in increasing hope as they got nearer.

Tightening muscles, black flecks jumping across her eyes: her internal wolf was also getting more jumpy, alert and angry, aching for a fight.

Luke began calculating which junction they would all have to exit at to meet up, but Bethan gasped when Gemma explained, and cried despairingly, "We haven't any money! We can't get off - we can't pay the toll!"

Gemma was swearing, claws clenching into the leather steering wheel while the wild, uncomprehending rage surged to overwhelm her reason. Words flickered through the black clouds in her head, a distant, indistinct murmur of Mac calmly suggesting that Gemma could pass the girls, come off and head back down after them, no trouble - her speed was so much faster, it would only add a moment to the journey. As the words sank in, her eyes slowly swam back into focus.

The wereem blinked away the last black blotches that were obscuring the red lights streaming past her vision, breathing deeply while she watched the black fingernails on the wheel slowly turning pink again. Well, except for those of Hakan's one hand, which were still human anyway. He had taken a light grip on the wheel and was casually dancing them around each pair of red lights which appeared ahead, uncaring whether under or overtaking, swooping from side to side of the road. It looked surreally like they were in the middle of one of her brother's PS3 games. It sounded like they were threading their way through a slow-moving, honking chorus of geese; the other drivers were loudly and indignantly expressing their opinion of his speed and steering.

The wereem took a harsh breath, and tapped the back of her bodyguard's beefy hand with a finger. "I'm OK," she said, "Let me steer - you're attracting too much attention."

Mac was murmuring something urgently in her head while she said it.

"What?" What?

"Next junction," repeated the wolf beside her tersely. "We will see them passing on the other side any minute and -."

"Eeeep!" a half-shriek, half-gasp, shrilled terrified from the phone directly into Gemma's ear, rasping painfully along her already vibrating nerves.

"THERE!" bellowed Erik simultaneously from the back seat. "That must be them! And right beside them - he's trying to get them! STOP!"

Twin sets of headlights, specks in the distance, were tearing down the opposite carriageway, locked much too closely together, swaying in unison in a deadly dance. Gemma's teeth clenched as the obliterating fury hit and she braked viciously, swerving straight towards the central reservation where a spray of grass rose as the front wheels hit the narrow strip separating the two carriageways.

Her head slammed painfully against the side door when they bounced off the crash barrier. Then the fury lifted abruptly as the pure clear mind of fighting for her life in a skid descended and she struggled instead to keep the wildly spinning vehicle from slewing back into the traffic. The four headlights on the opposite side flared closer at breakneck speed, appearing in patches in her spinning vision. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

From the corner of her eye she noticed the blur of Xavi's elbow in the reversing mirror, heard the splintering noise as the back window disintegrated under the sharp blow and then there was a swirl around her of damp grass, pieces of glass and mud, whipping around inside in a sudden stream of fresh air and exhaust. Before she could blink, the two wolves on the back seat had exploded from the vehicle, landing momentarily silhouetted on the crash barrier in the centre of the road before recoiling to fling themselves onto the dark green limo shrieking past on the opposite side, the car locked in an elbowing fight with the black Lincoln glued to its side.

"Go! Go! Go!" yelled Hakan to her, just as their car finally slammed to a halt, back to the barrier, still half on the grass. Her remaining guard swivelled so fast that his neck almost snapped, looking over his shoulder at his two packmates fighting to break into the racing cars on the opposite side. "Over the bridge and after them!" Then his fiery black eyes focussed on her and he snapped out Human! in her head.

Back in control, flashing a look over her shoulder at the oncoming traffic as she shifted shape, Gemma pressed hard on the pedal, hearing the wheels spin in a scream before tearing off the grass, and she swerved hazardously back through the slow-moving obstacles across to the almost parallel exit.

"Ma'am, I don't like the way you drive," rebuked the tall, thin man in the tollbooth, mouth pursed in accustomed lines, eyes scowling at Gemma when the werewolf slapped a bill down on the counter with her ticket, breathing heavily.

Gemma just managed to swallow the ferocious snarl which rose in answer, her face creasing at the effort, and instead growled with as much restraint as she could muster, "I don't care for your opinion." Her heart was racing down the highway with her human friends and wolf guards.

The disapproving lines on the man's face deepened, and his lips pressed more closely together.

"I have a duty to -," he began, then stopped at the sound of shrieking metal, turning his eyes forward, aghast.

Hakan was already out in the lane ahead of the booth, and had wrenched the barrier off its hinges. Go! he conveyed urgently.

Her bodyguard leaped onto the car roof and slid across the smooth metal while Gemma accelerated away with a screech of tyres. Then he swung gracefully back through his open door and slammed it behind him while they picked up speed.

"Keep the change!" the werewolf yelled over her shoulder cheerfully, trying to stifle an insane set of giggles at the official's face, and tore around over the bridge back onto the carriageway heading south. Luckily the bored operator on this side wasn't awake enough to have noticed anything untoward, and did nothing more than hand them a ticket.

The laughter suddenly left her as she accelerated again, the darkness streaking past the windows matching her mood. Blue lights were flashing in the distant darkness behind the car, but she couldn't see anything ahead.

Where the hell were they?

An almighty whipcrack like a gunshot sounded above the racing purr of the engine, mixed with the splintering sound of shattered glass as shards splattered around the car, tiny pinpricks of pain sparking on her face.

Gemma's wide eyes flashed to a long, dark shape lying on the road ahead just seconds before the car ploughed sickeningly, bumpily over the yielding surface of the object, skidding out of control on two wheels. Simultaneously she shrieked in shock as a huge, furry grey body landed with a heavy thud on the windshield, and the car slammed back onto all four tyres on the roadway.

Hakan slumped against her heavily, unconscious, almost smothering her in her seat under the fierce G-force of the violently spinning car. Peering beyond his bulk, Gemma's eyes were caught by the black nails clamped to the frame of the passenger door, the hand of the stowaway clenched around the slight gap where the window was open at the top. Stunned, her eyes traced down from the nails of the wolf clinging on, the furry lycan figure plastered against the windscreen by the spin, over the gun clasped tight in his other hand, then were caught by the vicious grey eyes glaring at her through the glass.

Her heart lurched: Nicolas Grey.

The scent of Hakan's blood was burning in her nose.

Mac was swearing in her head, but the noise faded as her mind seemed to condense into the car, into now, while all Gemma's could do was cling to the wheel of the spinning vehicle. Then a wild flare of thought nudged her to spare a reckless hand for a second, and slam a finger down on the switch to close the electric window.

The glass hummed closed as the tyres screeched sideways on the asphalt. Grey dropped the gun clenched in his right hand, and speared his claws through the metal roof of the car just in time so that he could snatch his left fingers out of the closing gap. Their violent trajectory across the wide lanes was losing momentum, and the wereem watched through the glass, eyes caught by the aggressive glare, while in seeming slow motion Grey drew back his free hand, brought it up to flex those long, deadly claws at her, then raked a painfully screeching cacophony through the remaining glass of the windshield, so that it splintered into thousands of tiny squares, like a cobweb.

Through the broken lines, eyes huge, Gemma saw the fist raised again to smash the shattered glass out of his way.

She slammed her foot on the brake.

Her chest hit the steering wheel painfully, and violent cursing echoed distantly in her ears from the powerful body that flew off the windscreen, swinging in a wild circle around the fist clenched in the roof. Grey used his momentum to smash his arm through the passenger window instead and clench his free claws deep into the leather upholstered headrest just as the thin sheet of metal in his right hand ripped clear. He swung back on the new grip to smash heavily into the side door and panel. Damn him for clinging on.

The vehicle finally skidded to a halt. Their eyes met through the rear side window, the deep longing to inflict maximum pain clear in the Grey wolf's eyes, and Nick's other hand shot in through the passenger window to claw into the gleaming dashboard while his shoulders hunched to haul himself inside.

Gemma slammed the stick into first and floored the accelerator. Above the screeching of the tyres and the stench of the rubber, she could hear the Grey wolf cursing again while he tried to heave himself inside despite the drag of his calves on the ground. A harsh metallic screech, and his rear claws were stabbed into the body of the rear of the car to give him leverage to push harder, force himself inside the window. He swiped with a handful of open claws, swinging them wildly, trying to get hold of her, get her out.

Even in his coma, Hakan was helping; Gemma felt sickened when those vicious claws swiped just short of her and raked instead through the slumped blanket of her bleeding guard, lying half across her. Grey swiped for her a second time. Desperately the werewolf began slewing the car from side to side, trying to shake Nick off, trying to make him sicker, or just trying to make it more difficult for him to get his claws into her and hook her out of the vehicle. However, despite her best efforts, Nick's snarling face was getting closer to her, he was slowly, inexorably clawing his way in.

But even in her splintering terror, the analytical corner of Gemma's mind noted that Grey's face was looking a little clammy, pale.

Sick. Motion sick. From the movement and the stench of the fuel.

Gemma heart jumped in terror and fury as she met those bestial eyes again, too close, and she slammed on the brakes automatically, spinning the wheel to create another sickening counter-skid. The car screeched sideways on a stench of melting tyre, the force yanking Grey back to full arm stretch from his hands clamped in the dashboard and the headrest, his legs flying out behind the vehicle. The slow moving rear lights of a truck ahead were noted by Gemma's jumping brain, and she straightened the wheel towards it, flooring the gas pedal, burning with the angry, vengeful urge to scrape the car along the side of the monster vehicle they were rapidly closing on, crush the vile predator hanging out of the window between a rock and a hard place.

A pulse of anguished fear shattered through the otherwise silent, faint link with her mate, strangled words yanked back before they could manifest; terror smothered instantly. But the shot of stark, involuntary emotion reminded her: she couldn't kill Grey: Natasha would die too.

Shocked by the heart-crushing blink of sensation from her wolfmate, cold rushing through her, Gemma braked as hard as she could, instinctively, straightening the wheel and blinking tears through a rush of pain, suddenly unaware of her surroundings. Her heart was keening: he cared that much? She barely noticed as the car, skipping on the road surface as the tyres locked, screeched in behind the rumbling truck, just managing to slow down enough not to hit it. A cough of thick, nauseating diesel fumes spewed through the semi-shattered windshield from the rear of the metal monster inches ahead, the reek churning Gemma's stomach further, reflecting her bleak mood.

Then a second, even stronger raw pulse of emotion crashed into her from Mac: wordless, the feeling of his terror and boiling fury swamped her and she almost whimpered in guilt at the jangle of raw emotions. Love, exasperation, fear: Grey was two feet away from his mate and she wasn't bloody well paying attention to staying alive - will you just fucking trust me? Shuddering, mind zooming back into sharp here-and-now clarity, Gemma was already moving to whisk out from behind the truck.

Of course he cared that much: Tasha was his little sister, she rebuked herself fiercely.

Suddenly a thought occurred, why hadn't the damn malevolent wolf taken advantage? She jerked her head around and peered over at the limp figure hanging half out of the passenger window, arms straight, head just visible above the doorframe. Nick was hanging heavily, sweat standing out on his nose, mouth slightly agape. His face was also sagging, eyes dull and only half focussed on her.

Ah.

Stomach churning, mind on fire, shivering at the proximity of those clenched, blood-stained claws, Gemma drifted the car sideways carefully and settled down to mirror the pace of the juggernaut, purring along just where the exhaust pipe was level with her enemy's face. His features seemed to melt further, head sinking deeper between his slack shoulders.

The wereem smiled a little vicious half-smile, and hung on in the fume-rank wake of the truck, taking deep, long breaths of the foul air through her nose, swallowing rapidly, repeatedly, and staring out past the huge wheels to calm her roiling stomach. A little ironic gleam of pride lit her eyes: this was the benefit of being ex-human. She had learned to battle this nausea during her childhood, when she'd never been able to resist reading on the back seat, despite the consequences.

Her wolf senses were becoming sluggish, hard to hear while her stomach churned and a ringing sound was growing louder in her ears. The black spots were dancing in her head, the wolf within jumpy through fear, but somewhere in the distance she could hear the soothing ripple of pride from her mate: I love you I love you I love you. The calm anchor of Mac held a stable core within her growing, seething tension. Gemma clung to him, fighting the rising, desperate urge to just leap out and run, trying to keep an ear and nauseated nose out for any aggressive move from Nicolas.

The rage hovered.

Hovered closer.

Closer, the very brink.

Just one moment longer.

Soundlessly, smoothly, the claws clamped inside the dashboard and passenger headrest relaxed and slid loose. Gemma's dazed eyes jerked up to the reversing mirror and she saw the heap of grey fur rolling along in her wake, the pink mouth gasping as Grey dry retched into the roadway. Instantly she pulled out into the fresh air to the left of the truck and began to gulp, blinking hard to clear the black spots from her vision, senses reviving.

A brushing touch like a kiss nudged at her mind, almost unbearable relief swamping through the bond. In contrast, her mind snapped back into sharp alert, awareness of her wider surroundings, fear shooting through her.

Bethan and Kate? she conveyed the question urgently to Mac, Erik and Xavi. Then as her mind cleared from the tension of fighting Grey, she realised - that squashy lump she had driven over - Erik. Ugh. He was hurting.

He'll be OK, her mate replied, he wasn't hit by silver and you didn't crush anything that won't regenerate. Simultaneously, she received a flashed image from Xavi, as though seen through his eyes beneath a canopy of trees, from a distance. A scene of two mangled, entwined cars in the ditch at the roadside, lit by a surrounding mix of police headlights and blue flashing lights, which were also strobing on a small group of people huddled around the vehicles - she must have skidded past the crash without noticing while Grey had been trying to invade her car, because she could also see those lights in her reversing mirror.