The Slaughtered Lamb Bookstore and Bar (Sam Quinn Book 1)

by Seana Kelly

  Up or down? I could follow the side of the mountain down, away from them, and try to find help. Or, I thought with a shiver of anticipation, I could run up and hunt them. Long, razor-sharp claws shot out. My jaw reshaped itself, making room for enormous fangs. Fuck hiding. I was not prey.

  Sprinting up the incline, I dodged behind trees, keeping to the shadows. The full moon was setting, but the night was still bright with its light. Shadows abounded. I’d use that. They were talking, Randy pointing to the spot I’d hit in the gully. The ground was covered in vegetation. They hadn’t realized I was no longer down there. While they planned, I kept to the shadows and hit the path, a hundred yards past where they were standing. I shot across, into the forest on the other side and circled back around. The two men did a kind of slide-jog down the side of the hill to search the ditch. The woman stayed with the bikes. She’d be the first to die.

  Padding silently on bare feet, I came up behind the woman from the Crypt. She was leaning against the side of an ATV seat, eyes focused on the activity in the gully.

  “Do you see her?” Randy’s snarl brought a smile to my lips.

  “Are you sure this is where she fell?” Joe asked.

  “Where the hell else? The ATV is right up there. You can see the wheel hanging over the edge. This is where she should have ended up. Cam!” He shouted. “Do you see anything?”

  “Yeah,” she mumbled. “A couple of morons fumbling around in the dark.” She crossed her arms. “No!” She shouted back. “Come on,” she said to herself. “Find her already. I sharpened my knives special for this party.”

  Stepping up behind her, I stared down at my claws, grateful to have them. They gave me power. They gave me choice. My body was my own, and no one else’s. There would be no party tonight. Leaning forward, I slashed my claws across her neck, cutting to the bone. When she slumped to the ground, blood gurgling, beginning to pool, I felt no remorse. She had it coming.

  Two of the ATVs still had keys in them. I took both. Randy’s bike may have flipped, but he was smart enough to grab the key. I got halfway across the path and then dropped to the ground, crawling to the edge and peering over.

  Joe was on the other side of the gully, looking down the side of the mountain. “You sure she didn’t keep going? She couldn’t move to stop herself.”

  “Shit, I don’t know. The ATV spun. I went one direction. She went the other.” He studied broken branches, sniffing the air. “Cam!” he shouted. When there was no response, he looked up the hill. “Dammit, Cam! I’m talking to you.” He turned to Joe. “Will you see what her problem is this time, then ride north. Look for tracks.”

  “Sure, but what are you gonna do?”

  “Track her scent. I can smell her right here. There’s a broken branch right there. Maybe she crawled while we were talking.”

  “I thought she couldn’t move.” Joe sounded strangely nervous.

  “Man up. She’ll be more fun this way.”

  Joe nodded, glancing around before dipping back through the ditch. When he began to climb the hill where I was waiting, I scooted back and then sprinted to where I’d left Cam. I needed a good spot from which to attack. Glancing up, I noticed a thick tree branch hanging over the path. Joe would check on Cam. I knew where he’d be in a minute. Now or never.

  Crouching down, I jumped as high as I could and easily landed on the branch. I almost overshot it and toppled right back off, but I caught my balance and waited. Joe came over the rise a few seconds later.

  “Cam? Where—Shit!” He ran to the body and checked for a pulse, his fingers coming away drenched in blood. “Fuck me,” he whispered.

  I dropped from the tree, claws out. Landing on his back, arms crossed, I was already raking them in opposite directions against the back of his neck, taking his head completely off. Blood spurted as it rolled away. Two down.

  Thirty-Two

  In Which the Princess Saves Herself

  “What the fu—”

  I spun, claws out, and slashed Randy’s face. He must have circled around behind me.

  Shock rocked him back on his heels. Half his face was shredded to the bone, blood gushing from the wounds. “How?” He lurched forward, jaw clenched. “I’m the Quinn heir. I’m Alpha! You’re nothing but trash. Used and dumped.”

  There was a crazed glint in his eyes. He didn’t seem to care about his face. It was the long, razor-sharp claws that shot from my fingertips that had him unhinged. I glanced at his hands. They were a man’s.

  “I’m Alpha!” He pounded his chest. “Me!”

  I edged to the side, keeping my weight on the balls of my feet. “What’s the matter, Junior? Can’t you do a partial shift, too?” He had at least six inches and fifty pounds of pure muscle on me, but my ability to shift isolated parts of my body had incensed him beyond reason.

  “Not possible,” he sneered. “It’s some kind of illusion.” He glanced around, wariness making him stiff. “Switching sides, Abigail?” he shouted.

  While he was distracted, looking for my aunt, I tore at his chest. My claws caught on his rib cage. I’d pierced him, but I couldn’t complete the swing. He grabbed my wrist in his iron grip and yanked me forward, while the massive fist of his other hand sped toward my head, and then there was nothing.

  Pain. Fiery pain radiated down from my hands. Head pounding, I blinked my eyes open. Randy. I’d been caught, arms handcuffed over my head, hanging from a high branch. Blood dripped on my head from my mutilated hands. I kicked and twisted, my arms burning. Silver. My body felt like it was on fire. I couldn’t change while silver was touching me. He’d improved his methods.

  “No weak little bitch is gifted with Apex Transformation. No way in hell. No more claws for you. Now,” he said as he shoved me, causing me to swing from my burning wrists. “Once I kill you, I’ll inherit it.”

  “Pretty sure that’s not how inherited traits work, dipshit.” I scanned our surroundings. We were in a small clearing surrounded by dense woods, with a run-down shack tucked in a corner. The ATV was parked near the steps of the hovel, the front door hanging open.

  “Nice place you got here.” I refused to show fear. My stomach was quaking, my heart racing, but my expression was stoic as hell.

  He grinned, a wholesome, all-American smile that masked unspeakable depravity. Fear fluttered in my mind. Memories of what he’d done to me seven years ago cycled through my brain. Ignoring the whimpers of my subconscious, I sneered.

  The sky was lightening. Dawn was near. Nothing looked or smelled familiar. Wait. I pointed my nose toward the shack. Faint, I just caught it. Abigail and…vampire.

  “You were my first. Did you know that? In a shack just like that.” He ran a finger over my cheek.

  “I’d hope so, you psycho. What were you, thirteen? Fourteen? You must have started killing neighborhood animals at an early age if you’d worked your way up to torture and rape in your early teens. Quite the prodigy.” I continued looking everywhere but at him. He didn’t deserve my attention.

  The punch was fast. Head knocked sideways, my bell rung, blood trickled from my lip. I was making him crazy. Crazier. Coco!

  His charming smile had flattened, eyes cold and hard. “Big talk for something that shouldn’t even exist.” He ran a finger through the blood on my lip and then licked it clean. “I love the taste of abomination in the morning.”

  “Been chatting with my auntie, have you?”

  A split-second of shock raced across his face and then he was laughing, doubled over wheezing with hilarity. “That bitch is your aunt?” he gasped. “What the fuck did you do to her to give her such a hard-on to kill you?”

  I stared him right in the eye, channeling my fledgling inner badass, and said, “She fears me.” I turned up my lip in a smirk. “Like you do.”

  Glaring, he spat, hitting the chest of my sweatshirt. “If anyone around here should be afraid, it’s you.”

  “How’s your face?”

  The rage was instantaneous and was hidden j
ust as quickly. He prowled around me, grabbed my arms, and pulled down hard against the cuffs.

  Fire burned up my arms, but I sealed my jaw shut. He’d scrape no cries, no screams from me.

  He breathed hot in my ear, causing my insides to cramp. “Big talk, little wolf. Hiding in your bookstore. Fucking your vampire. So special. So smart.”

  I couldn’t respond, teeth welded shut as the fire continued to rage in my body.

  “Pretty stupid, if you ask me. Still haven’t figured out who I am, have you?” He let go of me and stalked back around, waiting for a reaction to whatever bombshell he was about to drop.

  Expression bored, I waited for it.

  “We’re family, Sam.”

  Mind and stomach rebelling, I forced boredom into my voice. “Is this going to be a ‘Luke, I am your father’ speech? Because, no.”

  “We’re cousins. Your daddy and my daddy were brothers. Are brothers? Which way do we say it when they’re both dead?” He poked me in the chest, and I swung back, arms awash in pain again. “Got your attention, didn’t I?”

  As far as I knew, my father only had one brother. “You’re Marcus’s son?”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Strange he never claimed you then, huh?” Anyone this insecure needed that knife twisted.

  “Mick was his favorite. I was just an accident from a woman he once fucked in a bar. Didn’t even know he’d left her pregnant. Quite a surprise when I shifted the first time and killed her and her asshole boyfriend.” He chuckled. “Good times.”

  I wouldn’t give him the reaction he craved. My expression betrayed no shock nor sympathy, no disgust. Boredom, that was all he’d get from me.

  “She’d let enough slip over the years. I was twelve. Mom was dead. I knew his name was Quinn and that he owned hundreds of acres in the Santa Cruz Mountains. I hunted for weeks as a wolf, following the scent of other wolves. Eventually, one led straight to my daddy.” He laughed without humor. “Wasn’t too happy to see me, that’s for sure.”

  “Maybe because he knew you were a budding psycho killer.” I felt no twinge of sympathy. None. That probably didn’t speak well for me, but lots of people have it rough. They didn’t torture and kill to stave off feeling angsty.

  “Not budding. Weren’t you listening? I was already a killer. So, he let me move into one of the cabins, be a part of the pack. Not the main house, not for his bastard son. I wasn’t real family. Just a stray he took in.”

  Was anyone looking for me yet? Coco! Maybe Clive had come back to my bed, after all. Maybe he was already looking. How dire was your situation when you were hoping for an invasion of vampires?

  “A few years later, who do I meet in the woods? Abigail. Said if I fucked you up, she’d make me Alpha. Next day, Marcus is claiming you as his niece to everyone. But, shhh, no one tell her what we really are.” He scoffed. “Fuck that. I showed you.” He ran his finger over my cheek again. “I showed you real good.”

  “Damn, you are one chatty villain. Is this part over yet?”

  He pulled a long, serrated knife from the sheath at his waist. He held the knife up close to my eyes, making sure I knew pain and blood would be my world before I died. Chuckling, he said, “Not so brave now, huh?” He ran the flat side of the knife along the exposed portion of my stomach.

  “Marcus wouldn’t shut up about you. So special, our Sam. Quinns are one of the original wolf families. With your wicche blood, he just knew you’d be special. Something we’d never seen before. So proud of you. Just like Mick. Next Alpha, our Mick.” His smile made my knees weak. “I didn’t get to finish before you ran off. Mick had followed your trail to the cabin. You should have seen the look on his face when he found me and my knives.” He cackled. “Priceless. No more Mick in my way.”

  Grabbing my face, the knife still clutched in his fingers, he said, “And when I’m done, no one will ever see you again.” He shoved my head back and then used the tip of the knife to trace the infinity symbol he’d carved above my wrist seven years ago. “Always. I’ll always be better. Always be stronger.” A leer took the place of petulance. “Let’s get this party started.” He gripped my breast and squeezed.

  Anger, sharp and scalding, consumed me. I kicked out, making him stagger back. He grinned, rolling the knife in his hand, low light reflecting off the razor-sharp edges. Dawn was breaking. He cut my sweatshirt down the middle, the blade tip slicing through old scars, down my chest and stomach.

  Never. Fucking. Again. Something broke inside of me. Rage consumed me, willing my wolf to the fore. Sam was gone. My brain was a snarl of disconnected thoughts and emotions. I let the wrath boil over.

  And I remembered, all at once, how I’d escaped seven years ago. A hand had gripped a knife, plunging it through the air towards my heart. Fur had covered my body, jaw elongating, limbs transforming, claws shooting out from newly formed paws. I’d shifted between one heartbeat and the next for the first time. Scrambling out of the ropes holding me, I had dived at Randy, my claws slashing down the side of his face. Fear jumped in his eyes and he ran.

  I’d chased him out of the shack where he’d been keeping me. Outside, he tore off up a path. A woman stood at the top of the hill. I had a moment to be outraged she hadn’t tried to help, and then a shockwave reverberated through my brain, dropping me to the ground.

  Abigail had stolen my memory of shifting to defend myself. She’d wanted me to view myself as beaten and afraid. It made me easier to kill. That shit was over.

  Randy stood before me now, eyes glassy with sadistic pleasure. Claws ripped from my toes, as I pulled myself higher using the handcuffs. Arms burning, my legs pistoned up, claws slashing Randy across the face and down his chest.

  His blood-soaked shock fed me. My paws slid through the handcuffs as I shifted completely. He moved back, hands clutching his chest, and I moved forward, stalking my prey. When he turned and ran, I exulted. My muscles bunched and I leaped, landing on his back, driving him to the ground. My claws dug in as I lunged for his neck.

  He was transforming, fur in my mouth instead of skin. I closed my jaws tight and shook, trying to break his neck. I tasted blood. Felt his heart speed. He was mine.

  He bucked, trying to dislodge me while he completed his transformation. His wolf was much bigger than mine. He threw me off. I skidded in the dirt ten feet away and circled. One of us was dying today and it wasn’t going to be me.

  A shadow moved across the clearing. Randy looked up and I dove for him, ripping him open down the side. He bit my shoulder as his back leg went out from under him. He fell in a heap, scrabbling, trying to get up. The shadow flew across the clearing again. If something else was coming to kill me, it could get in line.

  I pounced, my jaws tight around his neck. He twisted out of my grip, snarling and lunging. Backing away from his snapping jaws, I held his gaze, enforcing my will over his own. His foot lifted, hesitated, and then dropped. I moved closer, battering against his power, dominating him.

  When his head dropped, submissive before the dominant, I lunged, my teeth sinking through his neck to hold him in place. My claws ripped down his chest, opening him wide.

  Something huge landed in the clearing. The ground shuddered with its weight, but I ignored it. I was not letting go until he bled out, until his heart stopped.

  When I heard his last shallow breath, I released his carcass and turned to face the new threat. A massive, dark shape was silhouetted against the sky. Wings rose, blocking all light, and then settled again. My hackles rose.

  Bright red eyes locked on mine as huge, razor-sharp talons dug at the ground. Dragon. I should have been scared but couldn’t find it in me. I stared in wonder as he loomed over me. I saw a glint of something shiny beside the dragon’s head right before Owen popped up.

  He slid off the dragon’s back, approaching cautiously. A wing whipped out and wrapped around Owen, protecting him from me. Owen’s eyes took on a dreamy, faraway gaze.

  “It’s her! George, let go. I’m fi
ne.” Owen batted at the wing before the dragon released him. “Are you okay?” He made his way to me. “Did he hurt you?” He glanced at Randy’s mangled body. “Did you do that?” he whispered.

  I didn’t need fangs and claws with Owen. And like that, I was standing in front of him. He gasped. I’d changed at the speed of thought. I looked down at myself. Naked, bloody, covered in dirt and clumps of Randy’s fur. Angry, red welts ringed my wrists.

  I almost laughed at the horrified look on Owen’s face. “Got a shirt I can borrow?”

  He began to pull off his tee and then stopped. “Wait. I like this shirt.” He turned to the dragon. “Can Sam borrow yours?” I’d have sworn the dragon rolled his eyes. “It’s just a basic white tee. You have a dozen of them.” The dragon’s head rose and fell. “Thanks!” Owen shrugged out of his backpack and dug down into it, coming back out with a rolled-up white tee. He waved a hand, and the dirt and fur disappeared. He threw me the tee. It fit fine but was too short. I yanked down on it, trying to cover up my lady bits. He laughed, the bastard. “Trust me, George and I couldn’t care less.”

  “Yes, but I do care,” a deep, familiar voice grumbled.

  Owen and I jumped. Clive stood motionless in the clearing, rage and pain lining his face. His gaze traveled over me, lingering on my wrists and the blood blossoming through the tee. Dave walked through the trees, glanced at all of us, and headed straight for the shack. Clive, on the other hand, went to what was left of Randy, studied him, and then stared at me, pride glowing in his eyes. “Well done.”

  Thirty-Three

  Little Shack of Horrors

  “Demon,” Dave said.

  We all turned to him as he stood in the doorway of the shack.