Chapter 71: Bait

The mutts had indeed left them a clear trail. A couple of blocks past the hotel, the city seemed to end in a wasteland of scarred and scrubby fields crossed with train tracks and dotted with industrial buildings. A flat, open basin ran from the train station to the ocean, and this was where the mutts had gone.

When the sidewalk ended, they entered no-man's-land. The bitter wind lashed them and froze their ears until all they could hear was its howl. A faint icy drizzle rained down. The ground underfoot was slick and muddy on the surface, still frozen underneath.

"They're going to see us coming a mile away," Buffy said.

"That's likely the idea," Clay said.

"We need a plan," Dawn said.

Clay nodded. "Yep, we do."

Clay didn't like the plan. When Buffy invited him to suggest an alternative, though, he just grumbled that she was the boss. In other words, the plan was fine. He just didn't like it.

West of the train station, they put on a performance for their hidden audience. Clay gestured for Buffy and Savannah to go wait inside the station. Savannah pleaded with Clay that it would be better if she and her mom stayed with him and Dawn. Clay picked first Savannah and then Buffy up, set them down facing the station with firm commands, including go, sit and stay. Savannah being a good girl obeyed. Buffy hesitated and Clay added in a glare for good measure. She turned and followed her daughter.

As Dawn and Clay loped off to take care of those nasty mutts for the Buffy and Savannah, they circled to the front of the station and took a seat on a raised monument displaying—according to the plaque—the first train engine used by Alaska Railroad. There they were, out in the open, where Clay and Dawn couldn't see them—a perfect lure for the mutts. Dawn and Clay would follow the trail for a while, and then pretend to lose it. With them out of sight, at least one of the watching mutts was sure to break cover and come after Buffy and Savannah.

Clay hated the part about using either Buffy or Savannah as bait. Give mutts the choice between attacking Clay and Dawn or attacking Buffy and Savannah, and they'll pick Buffy and Savannah every time. Not many mutts would willingly risk going up against Clay. Since the mutts likely didn't know Buffy was a Slayer and a werewolf and that Savannah was a Slayer and a witch, they might think that the two of them would be much safer targets than what the mutts thought of as a psychotic killer and his mate.

Buffy and Savannah had been sitting there only about five minutes when a man walked around the train station and headed toward them. Buffy inhaled, but the wind was going the wrong way. He fit Reese's description, though—early thirties, big and brawny, short brown hair and a square face.

"Hey there," he said. "You two look cold sitting up there, all alone."

Buffy smiled—civil, nothing more. "We're waiting for someone."

"Come inside and wait. I'll buy you both coffees."

"Thanks, but my sister and brother-in-law will be here in a minute," Buffy said.

He studied Buffy and Savannah. He stepped closer.

"How about lunch? There's a great diner just up the hill. Nice and warm."

"We're fine," Buffy said. "Really. Compared to some of the places we lived, this is a pleasant spring day."

"And where's that?"

"Canada," Buffy said.

"Mom, my cell phone is vibrating," Savannah said as she answered, talking to silence. "Sure, and where's that?" Pause. Laugh. "Okay, then." Pause. "Yep, we'll be right there, Aunt Dawn."

As Savannah 'hung up', she and Buffy slid off the wall. "That was Aunt Dawn. She needs us to check out something she wants to buy for Uncle Clay."

"Where are they?" the man asked.

"Over there." Savannah waved at a collection of buildings, and hoped one of them was a store. Then she and Buffy started out.

"Why don't I give you two a lift?"

"We're fine," Buffy said.

"It's a long walk."

"Buffy, Savannah, the mutt's have taken the bait," Dawn telepathically projected.

"Sorry, we really have to—" Buffy said as she and Savannah tried stepping around the man, but he blocked them.

"I'll give you two a lift."

"Thanks, but we're fine," Buffy said.

Another sidestep, another block, this one moving into their personal space.

"We're fine," Buffy said, her tone taking on an edge.

Savannah could have sworn she almost heard her mother growl.

"No need to get snippy. I'm just being friendly."

"And we're just saying 'Thanks, but no thanks,'" Buffy said.

"Be on the lookout," Dawn projected. "The mutts have split up and one could be heading your way."

"I'm sorry," Buffy said.

He smiled. "No need to apologize. We all get a little cranky now and then."

"No, I meant for this." Buffy kicked his kneecap. As he twisted and crumpled, she slammed her foot into the back of his knee and he crashed to the ground, cursing them as they took off.

Clay whistled to let Buffy and Savannah know exactly where he and Dawn were. They seemed to be behind the cluster of buildings they'd pointed out a moment ago. There were several routes there. Buffy and Savannah picked the one across open ground where they could keep an eye out for mutts.

At a roar behind them, they spun to see a truck barreling across the open field. Their eyes teared up from the wind and couldn't see the driver—just that the truck was heading straight for them. Buffy grabbed Savannah, like she had done with Dawn when Glory was after them after finding out Dawn was the Key, and ran full out. It kept gaining. At the last second, Buffy leapt aside and the truck skidded past, brakes squealing, veering as it spun into a sharp turn. It came at them again, tires spewing a hail of mud and rock. They dove away and it raced past like a charging bull.

When Buffy and Savannah glanced back, they could see a man in the driver's seat, but mud now dappled the windows. The truck roared at them again. As they darted out of the way, the window went down. Inside was the man from the train station.

"Did you think that was funny, you crazy bitch?" he shouted.

Buffy marched toward his side of the truck. He jerked back, this clearly not being the "fleeing in mortal terror" reaction he'd hoped for. As Savannah watched she realized that the Slayer was in control of her mother. She was sure it was a protection reflex.

He rolled up the window and hit the gas. The tires spun, spitting mud. The truck rocked, but didn't budge.

Buffy took a running leap. The truck shook as she landed in the bed. The man kept pumping the gas pedal, now jerking the wheel side to side, hoping to dislodge her, but the truck only spun in place.

Buffy walked to the front corner nearest the passenger door. Then leaned down, grabbed the door handle and wrenched, twisting it all the way around, the insides grinding and snapping. He lunged over to hold the door closed, but Buffy had already let go.

He slammed the truck into reverse. Buffy kept her balance, though, and when the tires started spinning again, she moved to the driver's side. He slapped down the lock. Again, Buffy leaned down. Again, she wrenched the handle around, then retreated into the bed.

He tried to open the door. "Hey…" he said, jangling it. Then "Fuck!"

Buffy watched through the back window as he reached across and tried the passenger door, yanking and jiggling the handle until he realized she'd jammed them shut.

"What the fuck?" He twisted to glower at her.

Buffy smiled, finger-waved and was turning to go when something slammed into her back, sending her flying against the cab. As she scrambled up from the truck bed, her nostrils filled with the smell of her attacker—one of the mutts from the hotel.

He stood in the middle of the truck bed. With sandy brown hair to his collar and dark blue eyes, he was a huge rectangle of a man and had the thick neck of one who hasn't been content to spend a mere hour at the gym each day. The slight yellow cast of his skin and the nasty glitter in his eyes suggested he hadn't been content with the extra boost of werewolf strength either. A steroid-pumped monster of a mutt. Travis Tesler, who'd cut off Reese's fingers—Buffy didn't blame Reese for running. First chance she got, she was doing the same. For she was sure because of the steroids that he might be able to take even her.

"Did I spoil your fun?" he asked, lips curving in what Buffy supposed passed for a smile. "I thought Pack wolves didn't hunt humans."

Buffy kept her expression wary, eyes not quite meeting his, shoulders lowered, feigning every sign of submissiveness. She looked out the corner of her eye and saw Savannah lying unconscious. He had managed to sneak up on her just as he had snuck up on Buffy.

"You got him pretty good." He snickered as he watched the man still vainly pumping on the door handles. "Bet you think you're clever. "Your sister and her man are long gone. And the Slayer, out for the count. It's just you and me."

He stepped closer. Buffy feigned a flinch and drew back.

He took a deep breath. "Damn, that scent you give off is like an aphrodisiac. You were once a Slayer, weren't you?"

Behind them, the man banged on the rear window. They both ignored him. Buffy inched along the cab toward the edge. Tesler stepped toward her again. She scuttled back.

"Not nearly as tough against your own kind, are you?" he said.

"I-I don't want any trouble," Buffy said. She had to keep the submissive act going so either Savannah could regain consciousness or Dawn and Clay returned.

"Well, see, that's not going to work, because I do."

Buffy shook her head, her gaze fixed on the lower half of his face, so he couldn't see her eyes. "Please. Whatever you want, I'll do it. Just don't—"

He lunged and rammed Buffy back against the cab. Pinning her there, he lowered his nose to her neck and inhaled. "Fuck, that is something else."

"Pl-please don't—" Buffy stammered, then she slammed her fist into his gut.

He stumbled back, doubled over. An uppercut to the jaw sent him sailing backward. A roundhouse kick toppled him over the side, and he hit the ground flat on his back, his gasp and curse swallowed by the gusting wind.

Buffy jumped onto the edge of the bed, balancing on the back corner, waiting for him to get up so she could kick him back down, then grab Savannah and make a run for it. Only he just lay there, looking up at Buffy. Then he smiled.

"Now that's more like it. Damn, that's more like it."

He licked blood from his lips. His smile widened and blood gushed, streaming down his cheek. His smile changed, all amusement vanishing. He got up, slow, as if testing his muscles. Buffy tensed and watched his thighs, waiting as they bunched and then—

He leapt up and grabbed for Buffy's ankles, but she was already in flight. She swung behind him and got in two lightning-fast hits before he turned and came at her, still moving slow as she danced back.

"You like this?" He licked the blood again. "Get the old adrenaline pumping. Land a few shots. Make a guy bleed." He smiled that ugly smile. "I bet you've made a lot of guys bleed for you."

He swung. Buffy ducked, but he followed with a pile driver to the side of her jaw, holding none of that steroid-pumped superhuman strength back. The earth rushed up to meet her. She lay on the frozen ground, blinking hard, struggling to remain focused, knowing if she didn't she would lose consciousness.

Tesler loomed over Buffy. "If you hit me, honey, I'm going to hit back. I hit a lot harder, don't I? Down for the count? I was hoping for a few more rounds." He grinned. "But I guess this will do.

As he reached for his belt buckle, any urge to drift off evaporated. Then the man in the truck hit the horn. "Ah, fuck."

Tesler glanced over. The man blasted the horn again. Buffy closed her eyes to slits as she let the Slayer take over. The Slayer in Buffy waited for its best opportunity. Let Tesler think she had passed out and his guard dropped. The man banged on the window; his shouts muffled by the wind. The mutt cursed, gaze swinging between her and the truck. Then his belt whirred as he pulled it through the buckle. The Slayer tensed, ready to leap up, hit him with everything she had.

The horn blared.

"Guess you'll keep a moment," he muttered. "Maybe you'll even wake up." A short laugh. "I'd like it a lot better if you woke up."

Belt undone, he strode to the driver's window and rapped. It squeaked as the man lowered it a few inches.

"I'm not going to let you do that." The man waved a cell phone. "I'm calling 911."

If he really intended to, he would have. He didn't want to get involved, but his conscience said he couldn't stand by and watch a woman get raped, so he had to at least make the threat and hope that was enough.

"Did you see what that bitch did to me?" Tesler pointed to his bloodied face. "And what she did to your truck? That's going to cost you. And for what? Because you were having a bit of fun with her?"

"Yes, but—"

"Tell you what…"

He leaned in, lowering his voice. The Slayer stayed where she was. He might have his back to her, but he was still paying attention, testing her, seeing whether she'd leap up and run when she had the chance.

"I could use some help," Tesler said. "She's a real firecracker. If she wakes up, I'm in trouble. So how about you help me." He chuckled. "There's enough to go around, if you don't mind seconds."

The Slayer waited for the man's cry of outrage. He only hesitated, then looked over at her.

"She'll be unconscious?" he said.

Tesler laughed. "Not if I have my way, but sure, I'll knock her out again if that's what you like."

The Slayer felt the man's gaze travel over her. She did not move. Not yet she told herself. But soon.

"Let's get you out of there," Tesler said.

The Slayer listened as he yanked on the door and waited for the moment when he got it open, when the flurry of activity would distract—

"Shit. That bitch really did do a number on your doors. Put down the window and let me get it from the inside."

"I already tried."

"Just put down the fucking window before she comes to and runs away."

The window whirred. The Slayer tensed, ready to spring…

Tesler grabbed the man's shirtfront.

"Wha—?"

Tesler slammed his palm into the man's face, his nose flattening with a sickening crunch, head snapping back, neck breaking. The man went limp. Tesler checked his pulse.

The Slayer sensed her daughter had regained consciousness and came to a decision. Savannah would not be able to take Tesler herself. So, the Slayer had to protect her daughter.

"Did you really think I was going to share with a human?" he said as he threw him to the floor of the cab. "Now that's taken care of, time for the fun part." He turned and found the sisters were running. "What the—? Where—?"

Tesler gave chase.

Savannah looked to Buffy and saw only a blank look on her mother's face. And realized that her mother had given herself over completely to the Slayer. "Mom," she whispered as she searched the cluster of buildings ahead, hoping for some sign of Dawn and Clay, but the landscape was empty and silent.

Buffy's eyes blinked as she looked at her daughter. "Savannah?"

Savannah smiled as she nodded. "I was worried for a second. You had this blank expression," she said.

Buffy nodded in understanding. "I gave myself over knowing that was the only way to take him on in human form."

Savannah nodded. "You might want to whistle, see if we can get an answer so we know where Aunt Dawn and Uncle Clay are."

Buffy nodded as she whistled, a second passed and then there was the faintest answer off to their right. They turned that way and ran. They caught another whistle, louder and closer now, from behind the building to their right. Dawn and Clay was coming for them. They glanced over their shoulders. Tesler was nowhere to be seen.

Buffy and Savannah sheared off in the direction of Clay's whistle and Buffy gave a double one to warn him to be on the lookout.

"Mom," Savannah said. "I didn't know you could give yourself over to the Slayer like that."

"It's something that took me a while to learn," Buffy said. "And not something I am going to teach you."

The building was a small factory of some sort, with machinery whirring inside. There was only one car in the lot. If there were any windows, they couldn't see them.

They slowed to listen for and sense Dawn and Clay. They couldn't detect them not could Buffy smell them. They jogged to the rear of the building and looked both ways. The lot remained empty and still.

Buffy whistled. The answer came in seconds. A whistle. Not Clay's whistle. Then, on the end of it, his whistle farther away, in the direction they'd first heard him.

Buffy and Savannah swung their backs to the wall and listened, but heard only the muffled machines inside. Then they caught the faint scuff of a shoe … overhead. They glanced up as a shadow edged over the roof.

Tesler jumped. Savannah tried to twist out of the way, but he caught her shoulder and she spun, feet scrabbling against the gravel. Buffy's fist rocketed at Tesler with Slayer speed knocking him back out of reach of Savannah.

Buffy and Savannah started to run, but kept slipping on gravel, losing their speed advantage fast. There was a small building ahead, some kind of storage for the factory. They ran for that.

They made it to the building and raced around the front corner, then along the wall. Tesler's footfalls were at least a half-dozen paces back. Too far to lunge and grab them. Too close to sneak around the other way. Now they just had to keep him going around the building in circles until Dawn and Clay showed up.

Buffy and Savannah zipped around the rear corner … and found a fence blocking their path. Buffy grabbed Savannah and catapulted her daughter over the fence. That one maneuver gave Tesler enough time to catch and dive at her catching the back of her jacket. Buffy wrenched, but he had a firm grip. She yanked down her zipper, trying to get out of the coat. His foot caught hers and she went down.

Buffy fought—kicking, clawing, writhing—but within seconds he had her pinned. He was a man who knew exactly how to pin a smaller opponent so she couldn't get away, couldn't fight back, couldn't do anything but scream. And she would scream. She barely got the first note of her scream out before he jammed his forearm down on her throat, cutting her off, he glanced up for only a second and he realized prey number two had run off. Probably to get Dawn and Clay. Buffy knew now who'd been responsible for those missing girls around Roman's territory, and who was responsible for the ones here. She knew what Tesler had done many times before and what he was about to do to her.

His hand pushed under her shirt, under her bra, fingers digging in, nails scraping.

Then he was flying off Buffy, Savannah's face behind him, twisted with rage. Savannah spun, holding Tesler by the back of his jacket, his skull on crash course with the wall as Dawn and Clay rushed over to Buffy. Savannah was going to kill Tesler and Buffy, Dawn or Clay cared in the least.

No, they did care. They were glad of it. Dawn would do it herself if she had the chance for what this mutt almost did to her sister.

It only took a split second for Savannah to whip Tesler around, for the sisters to think they were glad of it, for Tesler's body to spasm in panic as he realized he was about to die. But in that moment, a second mutt flew around the corner.

Clay and Dawn leapt to their feet to cut him off, but he was already in flight. He smacked into Savannah's shoulder which distracted her from Tesler. That moment of reprieve was enough for Tesler. His feet found the ground and his fist headed for Savannah's jaw. Savannah ducked the blow, but in doing so, released him.

The second mutt was a smaller, wiry blond. Buffy and Dawn recognized his smell. He'd been in their hotel rooms, Dennis's cabin and the museum. Tesler's buddy, the one who'd introduced himself to Reese as "Dan." He grabbed Savannah by the back of the coat, but Buffy yanked him off his feet, breaking his grip on Savannah.

And so, they paired off. Dan gladly turned on Buffy and Dawn, leaving his bruiser of a friend to Savannah who was quickly joined by Clay. His first few strikes were halfhearted—if he dispatched them quickly, he'd have to leap into the fray with Savannah and Clay.

When the sisters dodged his blows and landed two of their own, Dan started fighting in earnest, still slow at first, like a pro with a full card ahead of him, trying to figure out the least amount of energy he can expend. But he soon figured out that a lower weight class doesn't necessarily mean an inferior fighter. And that one of them was supernaturally enhanced beyond a normal werewolf.

After a few hits Dan ducked a blow, danced to the side … and kept going, taking off across the parking lot. Buffy and Dawn chased him past two buildings, and then circled back to Clay and Savannah.

Tesler might be an expert at overpowering women, yet his fight skills were little better than the average Saturday night brawler's. If he landed a blow, it sent either Savannah or Clay reeling, but both Savannah and Clay were faster and more agile and easily dodged most of them, and soon figured out the guy's routine.

When a solid right hook sent Tesler spinning, Clay nodded to Savannah and they both eased back and looked over at the sisters.

"You want to take over, Buffy? Finish him?" Clay asked.

"Fuck off," Tesler snarled, spitting blood.

He swung. Clay and Savannah ducked.

Buffy stepped forward. "I've got it."

"Careful, mom," Savannah said. "Remember what you said Grandma Joyce had to do every time you came home."

Buffy nodded in understanding at what Savannah was hinting at.

Tesler charged with a roar. Clay and Savannah deftly veered out of his path… and Buffy veered into it, catching Tesler's arm, wrenching and flipping him over her shoulder. He landed on his back, winded and blinking.

Again, she watched his leg muscles and sure enough, they bunched, and as soon as Buffy was within reach, he sprang. He tried to grab her leg and yank her to the ground, but she wasn't going down. Even if it meant taking a blow she could have dodged, she wasn't going to give him any chance to get her on the ground again.

To Buffy it didn't matter that Savannah, Clay and Dawn were there to protect her. Or that she could release the Slayer on Tesler again. She wanted to beat him on her own terms.

Buffy landed a few good blows—cracking ribs and knocking out a tooth. Not that it mattered. This was only an exercise because when it was over, he wasn't walking away. She took a glancing blow off the chin.

Savannah, Dawn and Clay spun. Dan had returned, sneaking up behind them.

A shadow passed over head. "Clay! Dawn! Savannah!" Buffy shouted as she spotted a mutt on the roof.

It was a split-second distraction that Buffy's opponent took full advantage of, diving at her and grabbing her around the waist as he tried to take her down. She hadn't been ready when he tackled her to the ground the first time. This time she was ready as she locked her knees.

The mutt on the roof jumped. He knocked Clay's shoulder as Clay tried to dance out of the way, then both mutts went at Clay, Savannah and Dawn. The odds were tipped slightly in their favor by Savannah's presence. The new one was smaller than Tesler—only a little bigger than Clay—but the family resemblance was clear. This was the relative they'd faintly smelled at Dennis's cabin, the younger brother. A kick and a right hook from Clay sent him sprawling.

Tesler senior rushed Buffy. A high kick caught him in the chest and he stumbled back, and then caught himself. Buffy waited for him to rebound, but he stood there, rubbing his jaw. Playing possum again. The guy had a very limited repertoire. She waited for his move. But he didn't run at her … he went the other way.

Only after Buffy had chased him about a kilometer did she realize her mistake. She glanced back and, sure enough, Savannah, Dawn and Clay were in hot pursuit, their prey abandoned. Buffy knew normally they would wait for her order. But she knew her daughter, sister and Clay would not let her face Tesler alone.

Even on open ground, Tesler kept his advantage. When Buffy heard the squeal of the train leaving the station, it gave her an idea. Buffy waved her plan back to Savannah, Dawn and Clay.

Buffy slowed. Clay, Savannah and Dawn changed direction, circling wide around Tesler. The mutt, hearing Buffy's pounding feet slow to a patter, glanced back and although she was a good ten meters away, she swore he smiled. Buffy looked at him, then behind her, searching the empty horizon, as if looking for Savannah, Dawn and Clay.

She whistled. Then she whistled again, louder and shriller, moving from "Hey, where are you?" to "Oh, shit, where are you?"

Tesler bent over, hands on his thighs, catching his breath. The wind had died down and she could hear him panting, almost in time with the chug of the approaching train. Behind him, Savannah, Clay and Dawn circled, unseen.

Still bent, Tesler studied Buffy. He really wanted to finish it, but long fights and long runs weren't his forte and he was winded. He had to weigh the thrill of dominance against the smack-down of potential defeat at the hands of a woman, maybe his last defeat if Savannah, Clay and Dawn caught up. Buffy could say the survival instinct won out, but she suspects it was ego—if he didn't choose to fight, Buffy couldn't beat him. He straightened, then started turning to run.

Buffy rushed at him before he noticed Savannah, Dawn and Clay. He wheeled, fists going up. Buffy danced back. He swiped a fresh gush of blood from his lip and smiled. Both the Slayer and the wolf inside Buffy were spoiling for a fight. He turned his back square on Savannah, Dawn and Clay. Buffy took one boxer's two-step forward, then back, going a little farther back than forward, as if inching away while trying to convince herself she was ready to take him on.

Finally, Savannah, Clay and Dawn reached the point where Tesler smelled them. His nose jerked up and he spun so fast he almost lost his balance. Then he tore off south… just as the train started to pass—a solid wall of slow-moving cars blocking his escape route.

He turned almost full circle and realized he was trapped. Buffy braced herself for him to charge her then he feinted to the side and ran full out toward the train.

"Fuck no," Clay and Dawn growled under their breath.

"Fuck yes," Buffy said as Tesler grabbed a ladder between cars.

Dawn hung back with Savannah as Buffy chased after the train with Clay. It was a slow-moving train and with werewolf agility and strength, getting on that ladder was a feat. Which was why both Dawn and Savannah had hung back. Dawn didn't want to leave her niece unable to catch the train.

Clay was almost to the top when Tesler's foot shot out, aiming for his jaw. Clay grabbed him by the ankle and wrenched. Tesler went down, scrabbling and kicking to keep from being pulled over the edge, holding on with every ounce of strength in his over pumped arms.

Tesler scrambled out of Clay's reach, got to his feet and took off across the tops of the cars. They gave chase.

At any moment, Buffy expected the train to grind to a halt, throwing them through the air as someone spotted them and sounded the alarm. But it kept chugging along, picking up speed as they raced over the cars, bent forward, the metal vibrating under our feet, train rocking from side to side, every freezing-rain-filled dent enough to send us skating, the stink of diesel filling their nostrils, the whine and grind of metal setting our teeth on edge, drowning out every word Clay called back to Buffy. Well, not every word… just the ones like "stay there" and "keep back" and "wait."

Finally, Tesler reached a flatcar loaded with timber, took one look and decided that jumping onto those logs was one feat he didn't care to attempt.

He feinted left, then right, then took a running leap toward the side of the car. Clay did the same, and leapt off… as Tesler checked himself at the last moment and stayed on board. With Buffy.

He turned to Buffy, that ugly smile twisting his lips—then disappearing as it met Buffy's fist. She hit him again, knocking him over. Predictably, he tried to grab her legs and bring her down with him. She stomped his hand hard enough to make him howl.

As he scrambled up, Buffy kicked. He instinctively closed his legs, but she wasn't aiming there.

As he concentrated on protecting his valuables, he hunched over, his jaw coming into perfect alignment with her foot. She kicked him, and he fell back hard enough to make the roof twang.

Buffy grabbed his shirtfront and hauled him up. Clay was back on board now four cars away, making his way toward them.

"Buffy," Clay yelled. "Hold him there."

Buffy pretended not to hear him and dragged Tesler to the front of the car. She held him over the edge, getting a good long look at his face, drinking in his fear as he realized he was about to drop head-first under a running train—

Tesler bucked. She braced, steadying herself, but when he rocked again, his bulk was too much and she lost her balance. He grabbed Buffy and, for a second, she was the one looking down at the train tracks rushing below, hearing Clay's bellow, and his pounding feet. Then Buffy twisted and kicked, and they rolled onto the roof of the car.

Tesler caught Buffy and tried to toss her over the side, but she grabbed his wrist and flipped him over her shoulder. He managed to snag her leg at the last second, and dragged her over the edge as he fell. Buffy's fingers grazed the steel edge, found a hold and clung on. One solid back kick with her free leg struck Tesler square in the jaw and he let go, hitting the ground and rolling away from the train.

"Hold on," Clay shouted into the wind as he made his way toward Buffy.

"That's what I'm trying to do!" Buffy called back as she heard footsteps approaching. She was barely clinging by her fingertips, legs knocking against the side of the train as it chugged along. She glanced back at Tesler, now up and running.

"Let him go," Clay said, grabbing Buffy's wrists. "We'll catch up. His trail will still be there. I want him as bad as you do, so wait."

Buffy looked at Clay and nodded. When they got off the train they met with Dawn and Savannah. They debated following the trail and then thinking the best way to get him would be to meet him back where he was going to his partners. So, they teleported back to where they had left them.

When Savannah, Dawn and Clay came after Buffy, the other two mutts had chased them only as far as the edge of the building, like dogs making a token effort to frighten a trespasser off the property while really hoping they didn't turn around. Then they'd stayed there, waiting for Tesler. Unfortunately, he didn't return. Savannah, Buffy, Dawn and Clay snuck up close to them just as he called his brother, apparently telling them to meet up someplace in the city.

"Follow?" Clay said.

Buffy shook her head. "They'll catch on before we get to the rendezvous point, and we can't pull anything downtown in broad daylight. I say grab one and get some answers." She peeked around the building corner and sized the two up. "We've got the leader's little brother and a flunky."

"The brother," Clay said. "Interrogate, and then hold him hostage."

"Where?" Dawn asked.

Clay shrugged. "I don't care. Hog-tie him and leave him out here. Or kill him and pretend we've still got him, hope big brother takes the bait."

Buffy shook her head. "He's family; he won't talk, and if Tesler decides he doesn't particularly want his baby brother back, we're screwed."

"You're the boss," Clay said.

"You disagree?" Buffy asked, truly wanting his advice.

He leaned out to look at the two men. "I don't think it's a sure bet either way."

"We'll try the flunky, then," Buffy said.

Culling one from a herd of two can be tough, presuming the other one wants to object to his Pack mate being taken. This one didn't. As soon as he saw they'd homed in on his companion, he took off to find his brother.

Then Clay held Dan while Dawn found and secured the interrogation room—a storage unit for a business that rented boats and fishing equipment, seasonal rentals that were now out of season.

Clay brought the mutt in followed by Buffy; Savannah remained at the door watching to make sure no one came to see what was happening. When they put him into a chair, he started to fight in earnest until Clay clocked him, dazing him enough to get the bindings on.

"This scenario seems familiar?" Clay said as he booted the rolling chair into the middle of the room. "Remind you of what you did in a cabin up near here? To an old friend of mine?"

Dan's mouth opened, ready to spew some variation on "It wasn't me—I was just following orders." But before he got the first word out, he snapped his mouth shut and switched to a new tactic—babbling in his mother tongue.

"You can skip the 'I don't speak the language' shit," Clay said. "It's only going to piss me off, and it won't help you one bit. Dawn here can speak several languages fluently including Russian. She'll translate, make sure your civil rights aren't violated before I break your kneecaps."

"It's not Russian," Dawn said as Clay and Buffy glanced at her. "He's not speaking Russian. Maybe Ukrainian or Polish. I haven't studied either language."

"That's that, then," Buffy said. "If he can't answer our questions, he's of no use to us."

"Kill him?" Clay asked.

Dan's head jerked up fast enough to tell them his grasp of English was adequate.

"Should have grabbed the brother," Clay said. "Held him as a hostage. Think we can still catch up with him?"

"He's long gone," Buffy said. "But we can use this one to send a message."

Clay nodded. "Have to make it a good one, though. Scare the shit out of them. Snapping his neck won't do."

Dawn took out her hotel key card and lifted it, just out of the mutt's view. "How about this?"

"Shit." Clay rubbed his chin. "The last time we used that…"

"Messy, we know," Buffy said. "But we need messy. The only problem is the screaming."

The mutt jerked around, moving the chair enough to see what horrific instrument of torture Dawn held. When he did—and realized he'd outed himself—he let loose a stream of Anglo-Saxon profanity.

"Huh," Clay said. "Seems he knows some English after all. Let's see if we can expand his vocabulary." He slammed his fist into Dan's jaw. The mutt gasped and snarled, then started to swear. "Nope. Same words. Let's try—"

He grabbed an oar from the wall and swung it against Dan's kneecaps. Wood and bone crackled. Dan bit off a scream, his eyes rolling. Then he lifted those eyes to Clay.

"What do you want to know?" he said in perfectly serviceable English.

They might have removed the language barrier, but that didn't mean they were getting anything useful from him. They started with the most important issue: why had they killed Dennis? And the corollary questions: Did they know about Joey and if so why were they leaving him alone? They weren't worried about tipping Dan off about Joey—it wasn't as if this mutt would ever see his buddies again to tell them. But Dan insisted he had no idea what they were talking about. Other werewolves in Anchorage? Never met them. His scent found at the site of a murdered former Pack member? Huh, we must be mistaken. Maybe their sense of smell wasn't as good as they thought.

On to Reese, then. Nope, he didn't cut the fingers off any young werewolf in a museum. Hated museums. No, he hadn't witnessed any finger-cutting either. As for why his scent was there, he had no idea. Maybe another werewolf in Anchorage had a similar scent. Maybe that was the one they'd smelled in Dennis's cabin, too.

What about the invasion of their rooms and the 'deposit' he'd left in Clay and Dawn's bed? Nope, not him. Tesler admitted they'd been there? Ah, that might explain things, then. Tesler was crazy. He wouldn't put it past the guy to kill the old man for kicks, cut off that kid's fingers and jerk off in Savannah's underwear.

But they hadn't mentioned that the dead werewolf was old. Or where they found the second deposit. No, they must have. How else would he know?

Dan wasn't too bright, but he was tenacious. Though he was quick to turn on his leader, there was no way he was admitting to having done anything himself. Still, as if to prove his usefulness, he did volunteer to give them full dossiers on the Teslers if they'd put him into protective custody like Reese. When they didn't say anything in response, he seemed to take that as agreement.

As Roman had suspected, the Tesler brothers—Travis and Eddie—spent most of their lives in Ukraine. That's where their father was from, before he emigrated to the United States and tried to make a life as a farmer. When that failed, he'd gone back home, taking his young sons with him, and years later they'd met this mutt—Danya Podrova.

The story Podrova gave came close enough to Roman's that they knew he was at least attempting to tell the truth. The Teslers ran a small gang that had moved around Eastern Europe, staying off the Russian Pack's territory. Of course, in Podrova's version, the Russians were a bunch of bullies who'd kept them on the run, when all they wanted to do was settle down and ply their trade. And the nature of that trade? Gun-running, he readily admitted; he even offered to help the American Pack set up its own enterprise.

"Very good money," he said. "Lots of places, they need guns. Pay a lot of money."

So the Tesler gang had jumped around Eastern Europe, picking up new members as it went. Then they'd run into a spot of trouble because of Travis Tesler's habit.

"He likes the girls. He likes the ones who do not always like him, if you understand."

Buffy glanced toward Savannah who looked back at her. They knew alright.

Podrova downplayed Tesler's problems with the law. They'd been planning to move anyway, he explained. Eddie had been researching Anchorage, thinking it might be a stable base of operations. A port city in the wild country, far enough from the American Pack that no one would pay them much attention.

Right now, it was just Podrova and the brothers, setting up in Anchorage. Two others were off on business, establishing trade routes in the Lower 48. And, as Roman suspected, more had been left behind, waiting for the brothers to get established here. Part of those efforts, it seemed, was clearing out all other werewolves.

That explained why they'd killed Dennis, but not why he'd been tortured. And what about Joey? Considering how quick these mutts were to pounce on Reese and now on them, it seemed unlikely that they'd been here for over a month and didn't know they still had another werewolf in town.

But here Podrova retreated into silence. He didn't know Dennis. And those men murdered in the woods? He didn't know them either. Wolves got them, he'd heard. As for the girls? Well, yes, Tesler did have a bad habit, but he didn't do that anymore, not after the trouble he caused back home.

So, Dennis had been killed by werewolves, three humans had been slaughtered by wolves and three girls were missing—all since this mini-pack had come into town. But they had nothing to do with any of it.

Clay took the sisters aside. "I need you two to stand guard with Savannah," he said.

"We know what you have to do, Clay," Buffy said.

"Yeah, but you two don't need to see it," Clay said. "Just as Savannah doesn't."

Buffy sighed. "I think I do, if I'm going to be Alpha. Jeremy plays his part. He takes the lead and asks the questions."

"Maybe, but after all these years, I don't require supervision. I know what you both want from him. I'll get it. If I have questions, I'll come out and ask."

"I need to see—" Buffy started.

"But I don't need either of you or Savannah to see it," Clay said.

Buffy met his gaze and understood. It wasn't just about her, Dawn or even Savannah. Alpha or Beta. Slayer or not. This was about those he loved. This wasn't a side of himself he cared to show his wife, his sister-in-law or his niece.

So, Buffy and Dawn joined Savannah. What Clay was doing took time—and thanks to Dawn's telepathy spell she could tell neither her sister or her niece really wanted to wait by themselves. Dawn tried to distract them from the thoughts about Travis Tesler and what he'd tried to do to Buffy.