Moving Forward

Frozen (36)

At Max's side, Kyle was becoming a force to be reckoned with, Max's hold on his fur the only reason he hadn't already leapt onto the porch. But it was so clearly a trap. They'd been watching for a least five minutes, the rain doing its best to drown them, and the cherry scent was strongest here... but there was no sign of anyone being here. No brainwashed wolves guarding the area, nor any movement inside the house.

A laugh carried on the wind. High and feminine, the familiarity of it had Max's teeth grinding. The rumble of a growl vibrated through Max's tight fist, but no real sound escaped Kyle. Lara's laugh was only a harbinger, timed perfectly to set them on edge. There was no clear source. It came from no direction. In front and behind. Both loud and faint. It sounded as if it came straight out of a horror film. So she could do more than just make scentless zombies. Good to know, but Max would've preferred to have the info earlier.

They should just go. Just back out and recover. Do some recon, get more on their enemies other than the fact that one had some kind of magic ability on some unknown scale and the other was the boss. God, what a shitshow. But Kyle wouldn't. He'd never allow Finn to be their hostage without good cause and according to Kyle, no cause was good enough to leave him behind. And Max agreed. He did. But he was also selfish. Kyle leaving Max here to get Finn back was the best option but that wouldn't happen either.

"Kyle-" he started, but was cut off by another bout of laughter.

"Thinking of running Maxie?" Lara voice was taunting. "You know the odds aren't good. What? You'd rather get your mate to safety than his little brother? What kind of monster are you?"

Max scoffed. Sure, she knew him, but Kyle knew better. Sowing dissent wouldn't work with them.

Kyle's gold eyes met his, and Max could tell that he didn't believe one word coming out of her mouth. That was enough for Max.

They were getting nowhere hiding in the bushes. Unholstering his Glock, he swept the area and crept forward, Kyle crouched and following behind. What an odd pair they probably made. When the guns came out, Max was usually the one shifted. Reversing the roles had a weird effect. Like sitting in the chair to the left the one he'd been assigned. Unsettling. Another tilt.

The PTSD was setting in with a force that had Max wondering if Kyle had always been a part of his team. He gave hand signals - letting Kyle know that the enemy hadn't yet been spotted before he remembered that Kyle had never been taught them.

Lara giggled, ominous and clear.

The porch door was open. No sign of forced entry other than the wicker chairs being strewn about the garden.

Inside was a different story. Blankets were piled in the corners. Furniture shoved aside. Even the fluffy rug had been flung behind the breakfast bar. Max felt himself tense up at the mess they had made, that he'd no doubt be required to clean up. Wolves blocked every entrance, any angle of escape covered.

And there, in the middle of the chaos, was Lara. Surprise streaked through Max at the sight of Gillespie, though he shouldn't have been.

"Gun down, please," Gillespie said, tone annoyingly cordial, but as chilled as it was the last time Max had heard him speak.

Max kept his gun pointed at the man's chest.

"Fine." Gillespie merely waved a hand.

Finn appeared in Lara's arms, tears streaming down his face and chest heaving with sobs.

"Kyle!" He screamed, kicking Lara in the shin to break out in a run.

He almost succeeded, almost ploughed right into Kyle's dense fur, but between one blink and another, he was back in Lara's grasp, her face... sad.

"Max... put the gun down." Her gaze seemed to bore a hole in him.

Max holstered it. "Lara."

"Now now, I'm the orchestrator of all this," Gillespie drew their attention back to him. "And I've got demands."

Kyle growled.

"See? This is why it should've been you in human form. At least then we could negotiate. As is, you either agree or you die." Gillespie's smile was gleaming, pure white with sharp pointed teeth.

Max's were bigger.

"You're going ta renounce the title of Alpha and bequeath it to me." He shrugged. "The Evergreen River pack is mine."

The same shade of sunkissed blonde, pretty blue eyes, and the light brow with the Roman nose - delicate on Lara, but proud on Gillespie.

"You really are related," Max muttered.

"You know what happens," she smiled, but it was angry, "when a witch and a wolf make a baby? You get one or the other. It's all hereditary. And when Gillespie's father died, he came ta us."

"It's a shame he's a dud," Max said, knowing that Gillespie wouldn't like it.

"I reckon we could do with a pause, Lara."

"Coming right up," she lilted.

And just like that, the world froze. Kyle's paws no longer padded in restless anger. Finn's chest was suspended in a broken hiccup. And Max... was fine.

Stepping away from the frightened child, Lara was grinning. "You see my power?"

Tilting. Tilting. Tilting. She was talking but all Max could hear was gunfire. Pinned down by the enemy. Unable to do anything. Trapped behind enemy lines with no one coming to save them. The men beside him frozen in fear. It was nothing like this situation but the moments merged as if they were the same. It didn't make sense - the forced stillness here to the overwhelming chaos there - but it might well have been.

He wasn't there. Max wasn't back in Afghanistan.

Body flushing, hot and cold, he wondered if he should've been listening, but he couldn't. All Max could do was stare as he recognised the powerless position he'd put them in.

Lara's power hadn't touched his body, but his mind was trapped.

Rage. Absolute fucking rage. How dare she? This woman came into his life pretending at friendship and she turns around and does this? Lara lured him into trusting her and she thought it was okay to toy with him like this? Magic tricks and spells worked to hold Kyle and Finn but Max knew his body was fine.

It was his mind. It was all in his head. The noise, the distortion, the inability to distinguish the past from the present. Weakness. This was a weakness and they were exploiting it. Did they even know they were doing it?

Max could use that ignorance. Wading through his PTSD back to the surface, all he'd have to do was wait for the right moment and hope that his limbs obeyed him.