Cursed Wolf: Urban Fantasy Shifter Stand-Alone (Creatures of the otherworld Book 1)

by Brogan Thomas

  All I want to do is get out of this bloody house.

  The whole pack is here, luckily on the other side of the room. I don’t want to sit around in the same room as Vincent and Jason. Why would I? I’m sitting here like a target is painted on my forehead. Useless and vulnerable. I can’t speak or run. I wouldn’t even be able to bash someone over the head with a cushion. So fighting is out, and if it all kicks off? I’m going to hide under my cover like a boss. God, that thought pricks at my pride.

  Two members of the shifter council have also graced us with their presence. I have no idea why they’re here. We haven’t been introduced—hell, no one has been introduced to me. I keep catching them casting me strange calculating looks, looks that I have no idea how to interpret. If they leave me alone, I’ll leave them alone.

  But if they come after me, I’ll fuck them up. I rein in my growl and force myself not to glare at them, glare at everyone. I fidget in the chair. My strange thoughts and rage are unnerving. Yeah, I might be a tad angry and seriously unbalanced. The frustration, anxiety, and fear thrumming through my head at the moment is troublesome. Troublesome? I huff. Understatement of the century, and it’s freaking me out.

  Heck, I’m either so frightened I can’t function, or so angry I want to burn the world.

  The lost human part of me doesn’t know whether to crawl away and hide, or worse, start screaming. Any minute now, I feel as if my anger is going to bubble up and I am going to snap. Break apart, and nothing is going to be left but an angry, bitter person.

  My sanity is fraying.

  To keep my sanity intact, I need to pack my shit up, as the hound suggested hours ago. To bury everything deep, I desperately jam the memories further and further down until they no longer exist. Pack them into boxes.

  Boxes in my head that echo with my screams.

  I shiver and pull the cover to my chin. It smells clean.

  It's impossible to bury the memories if the two evil bastards that contributed to them are standing across the room.

  I want out of this house.

  I focus on the other people in the room. My brother has called in more hellhounds as backup. As well as the original three, another six have arrived. Ten hellhounds, including John. I tilt my head to the side in thought. I watch the two hounds stationed across the room, the only hounds that I can currently see from my seated position.

  Hellhounds have twice the strength of standard shifters even without using their fire magic. The hounds in this room could probably start and finish a war. Natural walking weapons. It's puzzling to me that the massive shifters also feel the need to display impressive amounts of silver. I bet they carry double that with the silver I can’t see. I’m surprised the hellhounds don’t jingle and clink when they walk. It’s all a little bit of overkill. What are they all doing here?

  Nanny Hound answers my silent question.

  “They are here to keep John under control. He is worried that he will either set fire to the house or kill the pack. It’s a precaution, plus he hates the paperwork that killing always brings.”

  All I got from that was, John needs nine guys to stop him. Nine super-shifters...God, he’s a total scary bastard. Why can’t he control his magic? It makes what the hellhound behind me did, putting himself between John and me, more impressive. He promised to keep me safe, and he did.

  John, who has been talking to the two council members, now steps into the middle of the room. Gaining everyone’s attention, he holds up his hand to ask for silence.

  John starts to talk. He drones on, giving a full report on what he has discovered so far. I let John’s words flow over me. I sit and play with a loose thread on the fluffy cover. I focus on the thread and the movement of my fingers.

  I am back to feeling like I’m not here, like this whole time, I have been dreaming.

  Instead, I think about the past. Harry helped to get me out of the cage, although I still found myself in there for regular punishment. At least I wasn’t in there permanently. I had the chance to breathe fresh air, see the sky, feel the sun and the rain on my fur—the grass on my paws and the dirt in my claws.

  In the early years, I convinced myself that someone, namely my brother, would come and rescue me. But it never happened, and John, he never came. It took my shifting back and making a desperate phone call for John to come. Ultimately I saved myself.

  I can’t quite believe that it took my getting angry with Liz, my protectiveness over Harry, to force the shift back into my human form. Oh my God, when I think about it, Liz’s wayward vagina helped me! I pull up the soft cover to hide my amusement. When nothing else could, it stepped up to the challenge. Go vulva magic. I bet Liz now wishes that she had stabbed me when she had the opportunity.

  I focus again on John when he starts talking about the history of what happened with our pack and their deaths. He has full details, including surveillance footage—it’s all pieced together like a factual police report. He goes through it in a monotone, as if he isn’t talking about his mother and sisters. John has the facts, but he didn’t live it, and he didn’t see with his own eyes what happened.

  I nudge open the imaginary box in my head and let myself remember.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Fourteen years ago

  Manchester Airport is busy. I arrive at the terminal and immediately want to find a corner and hide. People are everywhere, humans and creatures. The check-in lines are full. People with baggage trolleys get in the way of people with small suitcases on wheels. One lady runs over my toes and a man going the other way elbows me in the temple. Oww! I let out a growl that rumbles around in my chest. Stop that, Forrest, I think to myself.

  I scamper past all the check-in desks, getting out of the way of the crazy, and find the blue seats where I am supposed to wait. With the people checking in and then going straight through to security, these seats are empty. I can see a clock on the flight information board, and the yellow digital clock flicks the numbers slowly.

  Today has been crazy. My mum woke me up so early—middle-of-the-night early—and I automatically got dressed, like a firefighter getting ready for a call-out. I was so fast. Ever since I can remember, we have always had a plan, an emergency drill. Being a shifter is extremely dangerous when you are female—kidnapping is rife, and my mum is harsh with the whole reality of it. I have never been in any doubt that there’s a target on my back. I have been taught from a young age to blend in and disappear, to go to certain busy places and wait.

  The chair starts to get uncomfortable. Two hours pass and then three. I wiggle to ease the discomfort, too worried to move and traipse about in case my mum comes. She would be mad at me if I moved.

  Come on, Mum, I chant in my head, bouncing on the seat.

  After the fourth hour and no sightings of my mum, it’s time to call in the cavalry. I’m going to ring my older brother, and by older, I mean mega old. I could ring my stepbrothers Vincent and Jason, but I don’t trust them. Jason gives me the creeps. My mum adamantly declared that they were my bodyguards.

  I huff. Bodyguards—what a joke. They’re rubbish! If they were any good, I wouldn’t be sitting here on my own.

  It’s now time to find a phone. I stand.

  I know the scent-masker magic works for only so long, but I am hoping it’s still keeping me covered. I am a wolf shifter. We do the whole wolf thing in our twenties—full furry wolf; it’s incredible. My brother John is extraordinary; he can turn a single body-part wolf while keeping his human form. So he can turn his teeth or his claws. So cool, to think you’d never need a pair of scissors to open anything, ever. Just, bam, a claw and open-sesame. Not very hygienic if you’re opening food, but way cool. I am so doing that when I’m older. I giggle to myself as I imagine what I could open.

  I make my way towards the check-in desks, looking for some kind of phone. I should have had a spare mobile in my go-bag instead of having to hunt for a landline. But it was safer, Mum said, if I had nothing to trace me. Deciding to do the whol
e “I’ve lost my family please may I use your phone to ring my brother” routine at the information help desk, I head in that direction.

  A scent hits me, and I freeze. Demon.

  I try not to panic. So far, I have done everything by the book. I swallow down my nerves and take a deep breath. I have the scent masker on, and the airport stinks of thousands of creatures. Demons are poor trackers, and if I can blend in and use a phone and keep safe, get hold of John, then there’s no reason why John can’t help me find our pack. I keep moving slowly between the people. I am glad that I am still quite short. Shifters can grow huge, but at nine, I am still a tad over five-foot.

  Instead of looking frantically around for the demon that I am smelling, I focus on walking straight ahead. The trick is to do the opposite of what you want to do. At the moment, I want to run and cry, grab the closest adult, and beg them to sort things out. But my mum didn’t raise an idiot. She’d kill me if I did something so stupid, so I suck it up. I am going to do everything to keep myself safe and then I will find Grace, my mum, and my stepdad Dave.

  I dodge a carry-on suitcase being pulled by an angry-looking human and spot a mobile phone in his jeans’ back pocket. Perfect. I speed up, bump him, and stuff his phone up my sleeve.

  My first thought is to get to the toilet, but to leave the busy part of the airport wouldn’t be smart. I stand to the side and pull out the phone. It’s password protected, but it’s a simple Android handset. I hold the power button down for ten seconds, and then I hold the power button and volume-down button at the same time to factory-reset the phone. Bingo. After following the instructions on the screen, I’m now able to make a call without needing to input the password on the phone. I dial my brother’s number. It rings. I glance around nervously.

  “What!” My brother sounds grumpy.

  “John, hey, it’s Forrest—”

  “Forrest, whose phone are you using?” Trust him to ask an unimportant question.

  I roll my eyes. “John, that’s not important. I ne—”

  He interrupts again, a growl in his voice he speaks in his lecturing tone. “Forrest, you know this number is for emergencies. You can’t ring me if Mum doesn’t let you watch something on TV or she won’t buy you some shit. I am too busy to—”

  “John.” I stop him mid-rant. The demon is close; I can smell him even more strongly now. The hair on the back of my neck is rising and I huff a little with panic. “John, will you listen to me—this is a bloody emergency,” I whisper-shout at him, trying to cover my mouth and the phone with my hand. “I am at Manchester Airport, Terminal One, on my own. Mum, Grace, and dickhead Dave are missing. Mum woke me with a drill last night. I’ve been waiting over four hours at our meeting point at the airport. John, I smell a demon.”

  “Why didn’t you start with that! I am on my way, but it’s going to take me over an hour. I am going to see if anyone is closer. Give me a sec, stay on the phone.” I can hear him shouting in the background. I glance around. Everybody is moving, and no one is looking at me. I turn my back to the airport concourse and lean my head on the wall. I feel so tired. So tired and so frightened.

  “I have Owen, a hound who is twenty minutes away. I am going to ring you back and then you’re gonna stay on this phone till he gets to you. You hear me, Forrest?”

  “Yes, okay.” I nod even though he can’t see me.

  “Okay, hang up. I’m ringing you back right now.”

  I end the call.

  Immediately the phone starts to ring. I press to answer, and the phone is no longer in my hand.

  I look up, and a scruffy human I have never seen before has hold of the phone. He puts it to his ear. “The little redhead can’t speak at the moment.” He drops the mobile to the floor and kicks it. It spins away, disappearing into the crowd.

  Why did I turn my back? I want to smack my forehead in dejection. I have zero time to berate myself.

  This guy is a human and I’ve got skills. I might be little, but I am fierce. He grabs hold of my upper arms. Instead of trying to pull away from him, I step into his body. I can’t throw him or kick him; it would cause way too much attention. So instead, I drop to the floor. As he follows me down, trying to keep his hold on me, the position he is now in is blocking me from view. So I punch him between his legs. He lets go of me immediately with a squeak, cupping himself. As I stand up, I neatly throat-punch him.

  Striding away, I shout, “That man is choking or having a heart attack. I think he needs help.” A lady in a bright yellow jumper turns and takes in the situation.

  “Oh my God, poor fella. Help, is there a doctor?”

  Another lady with massive boobs in a cat jumper rushes to aid, her glorious chest bouncing in her excitement to help. “You poor man, I’ll stay with you until help arrives, someone call an ambulance…”

  I scurry away. Tilting my head, I check the airport clock. Damn it, I still have seventeen minutes before my brother’s hound comes. Where is that damn demon? His potent scent, a sweetish sulphurous stink, surrounds me—it makes my nose itch.

  I turn left, and another human slithers in front of me. He looks just as scruffy as the last guy, and he has a nasty smirk on his face.

  Decisions, decisions—do I go through him or do I change direction? Before I can do anything, I’m yanked into a muscled chest. The scent of demon wraps chokingly around me.

  “Now, Forrest, do not be doing anything stupid.” The demon leans in close; his lips brush the shell of my ear as he creepily whispers. I shudder. “You want to see your pack, do you not? If you run or cause a scene, I will not hesitate to kill your mother. Do you understand me?” His whispery voice is harsh but with a very refined English accent. His cruel hands dig into my shoulders and the back of my neck. I nod, squeezing the top of my thighs. I worry I am going to embarrass myself and pee.

  I don’t feel brave or smart at this moment. I am a little girl who wants her mum.

  Dimly I think about the hound that will be here in less than ten minutes. I need to cooperate, and we need to leave now—if the hound gets here and stops the demon from taking me, my mum will die. I can’t let that happen. I need to keep calm and go with him. Hopefully the hound will arrive, see us leaving, and follow.

  “I have been hunting you for such a long time, little Forrest. I’ve accepted an awful lot of money to procure you. A female shapeshifter, a rare little wolf, and what a pack line. So impressive. You’re such a pretty little thing, with all that red hair.” He runs his fingers through my hair, making me shiver with disgust. I fight the urge to slap his hand away.

  “Did you know your pack line has produced the most females of any other?” the demon says as he starts to herd me towards the exit. “Your mother is a DNA jackpot ticket—the ultimate female shifter prize. Six children and five of them were female, two being twin girls, totally unheard of. So impressive, and your brother is a hellhound, as was your father. It’s fascinating, such a worthy hunt. Such a shame your older sisters and father were murdered. Oh, I wish I could keep you, you’d make a fine contribution to my collection when you’re older.” He chuckles darkly, patting me on my head. “Although I have a courtesan picked out, and she is even rarer than you and such a beauty.” He sighs. “My harem always needs new, nubile concubines—alas, they die so easily.”

  Are all demons this posh and pervy? I have no idea what a concubine is, but I get from the way he’s whispering, it’s not a good thing to be. As he’s talking, he steers me outside—the scruffy guy follows behind us.

  I know the rules about strangers, more so the rules about demons. But this demon has my mum and my little sister Grace. I will do anything for them, including sacrificing myself.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Fourteen years ago

  We head towards a black range rover. Scruffy Number Two runs in front of us and opens the rear passenger door of the car with a bow—what a weirdo. I am shoved into the back seat of the vehicle, and the demon follows me inside. I take my first good look at him,
and he’s old. He looks about thirty in human years. I bet he isn’t older than my mum. I know my mum will kick his ass for taking me, and my brother will light it on fire when he gets here.

  The demon has black hair, long on the top and short on the sides. It falls into his blue-grey eyes. I think he’s going for a boyish boyband look, not that it’s working. He has high cheekbones and a delicate nose, and his lips appear big and puffy, especially the bottom one. His chin is strong. From what I remember of him behind me, he’s tall. Although he isn’t huge like a shifter, he’s taller than a human. Mum would say he was elegant, elf-like. My brother would say weak, like prey. If I get the opportunity, I am going to kick his ass.

  “Unfortunately I am the middleman for this transaction—you have been sold to a council member for an extortionate price. When you’re more mature, once your body changes, you will drive him wild.” The demon bops me on the nose. I blink at him. “I would have thoroughly enjoyed parading you in front of all the shifters. So exciting that a council member has bought you—who knows your fate. I have a feeling you will be in my care for some time. Then your owner will come in on a proverbial white horse and rescue you—that’s why all this is just so much fun.” He taps his fingers on the seat between us.

  “I made a bargain to collect you. Your owner said nothing about keeping our bargain a secret.” The demon chuckles and winks at me. “I might not be able to keep you, but I can sure mess things up a little bit. I do so hate happy-ever-afters. So you will remember, young Forrest, that everything from now on is your owner’s fault and nothing to do with me. Don’t be taken in by his handsome face, that’s a good girl.” He pats my cheek. I glare at him. I wish he would stop touching me. A council member bought me? I don’t understand what he means. It’s something that I’ll have to deal with later and talk to my mum about. I’m a shifter, not a Mars Bar. This demon is weird.