by Jami Gray
“Whatever,” he answered. “I’m coming up on the Boiler Club.”
“I’ll check out 88 Ivories across the street. If you spot either of them, holler.” She twisted and narrowly missed being trampled by an obviously inebriated male in jeans and a Storm-Trooper T-shirt proclaiming, I had friends on that Death Star. Her quick move caused him to stumble.
“Whoa, man—sorry,” he slurred, lurching to the side.
“Watch it,” she snarled, before turning back to her hunt.
“Hey!” Unexpectedly, the drunk managed to snag the back of her jacket. “Don’t rush off, baby,” he leered. “Why doncha come with me and my friends? We can show ya a good time.”
Pivoting on her heel, she grabbed his wrist. She might be small, but one advantage to being a shifter was that even if you looked like you couldn’t lift a feather, you could bench press a small car and barely break a sweat.
“A good time?” She slowly increased the pressure on his wrist, feeling his bones creak under her grip.
“Hey, man! That fuckin’ hurts!” he yelped, twisting in an attempt to get away.
“Dan, you okay?”
The question came from behind her. She turned, dragging the inebriated Dan along while ignoring his protests. Recognizing pack mentality of the three approaching males, her wolf prowled close to the surface, changing her voice to a growl. “This belong to you?”
They drew up short, uncertain of who, or what, they faced. She knew what they saw. A small blonde woman with short, spiky, purple-tipped hair, wearing a battered brown motorcycle jacket over a fitted fluorescent green T-shirt. Soft leather pants met heavily soled biker boots, complete with silver chains. Add in the intricate tattoo trailing over the right side of her face and you had Hell’s-Angel-meets-Goth-fairy-princess come to life.
“Let him go.” The taller blond male took an aggressive step forward. A wanna-be alpha.
“Gladly.” With a little shove, she pushed the drunken idiot into his friend.
The blond stumbled back as his friend tumbled into him. “You don’t have to be such a bitch.” He passed his friend off and closed in on Xander.
“I haven’t even come close to being a bitch,” she said as he loomed over her, as if his height gave him some sort of advantage. She rocked back on her heels, keeping her body loose. There really wasn’t time to teach these kids a lesson but, seriously, they needed to learn some manners.
“You think you’re some kind of bad ass with that stupid tattoo?” he sneered, his fists clenching at his side.
Keeping a pleasant smile on her face, she decided to let her wolf come out and play, changing her eyes to a burning amber. “Oh, it’s a lot more than that. Haven’t you heard? Dangerous things come in small packages.”
He paled.
“C’mon, Matt,” one of his friends called. “Let it go. She’s not worth it.”
“Yeah, Matt,” she taunted softly, “let it go.”
Fear flashed over Matt’s face as he stumbled back. She took a step forward, to chase, when the beep of her earpiece pulled her up short. She hit the button to talk, but kept her gaze on Matt and his friends. “Yeah?”
“Boiler Room is clear.” Ryuu’s voice filled her ear. “I’m heading over to 88 Ivories. Where are you?”
“Just visiting with the local nightlife.” The little pack of college boys scurried away, but Matt kept shooting her looks as they retreated. She flashed more teeth and he hurried after his friends down the sidewalk, disappearing into the crowd.
“Well, when you can tear yourself away, perhaps you’d like to see if our little monster found his way to the club?” Ryuu drawled.
“They started it. I just finished it.” She turned around to resume her hunt. Inside, her wolf chuffed with satisfaction at making the boys run. “I’m almost there.”
She threaded her way through the milling crowds and stepped through a brick entryway to an open patio. Small clusters of people dotted the area while music pulsed into the night air. Scents wove around her—alcohol, sweat, perfumes, soaps, fabrics—a maelstrom of odors. Years of practice had her picking through them until she found the distinctive musk of shifter. Bingo. Somewhere inside was her prey.
Stopping outside the door where repetitive bass beats rattled the walls, she tapped her earpiece. “Ryuu?”
A brief spurt of static cleared, replaced by a faint echo of the beat and a gruff, “What?”
“I’m on the Ivories’s patio.”
“You waiting for an engraved invitation?”
“Aren’t you a funny one?” she quipped. “Wanted to make sure you wouldn’t miss the party.”
“I’ll be there in a minute. See if you can spot him.”
She stepped through the double doors. There were no screams of horror, no flying debris or body parts. Just wooden tables and chairs surrounding the dance floor. Most were filled with one, sometimes two bodies to a chair.
The miasma of fried food, alcohol, and perspiring bodies hit her like a battering ram. There was no using her nose in this mess. She shook her head and made her way deeper inside.
The dance floor was packed. At the far end sat the bar’s infamous, dueling, black baby grand pianos. Tonight no one tickled the ivory keys. Instead, the DJ was lost in the rhythmic beats of the pounding music, spinning his vinyl. The club’s lighting leaned heavily on a strobe effect, which guaranteed a rousing headache by the time the night was over. The snaps of brightness stung her eyes, but she did her best to ignore it as she tried to make out individual faces.
Needing an aerial view of the packed room, she found a lone empty chair sitting against the wall. Climbing up, she stood on tiptoe, stretching to see over the sea of bobbing heads. Between bursts of light, a disturbance in the rhythmic mass caught her attention. Two burly bouncers were making tracks from the bar to the back of the club. Patrons stumbled out of their way, leaving a visible path. The bouncers pushed through with identical grim expressions. The strobe lights flashed off the taller one’s bald head, while his buzz-cut partner pointed toward something ahead.
Following the gesture, Xander found Neil arguing with a pretty, honey-brown-haired young woman. She tapped her earpiece. “Ryuu?”
“Yeah?”
“How long before you get here?”
“I’m almost there.” There was a pause. “You found him.”
“Oh, yeah. And it’s going to get ugly. Quick.” Xander watched the woman jerk away from the tall, lanky, dishwater blond, shaking her head. “I think I’ve found Sara, too.”
Xander jumped off her chair just as Neil reached out to snag the girl, fury evident in his bared teeth and curled hands.
“We’re out of time,” she told Ryuu, pushing her way through the dense crowd.
“Be careful.” Ryuu’s warning was lost as she hit a broad shouldered form in front of her. The answering bump knocked her hard enough she lost her earpiece. Screw it. Done being polite, she gave him a shove, sending him into the arms of his buddy as she continued toward the impending showdown at the back of the club.
Through the sea of gyrating bodies, she caught glimpses of the confrontation. Sara was verbally ripping Neil a new one, while the club’s security duo drew closer to the arguing couple. Sara’s tirade wasn’t the reaction Neil expected. Under the strobe lights, his face contorted into something not altogether human.
Dread morphed into grim acceptance as Xander continued to shove her way through the crowd. The distance between her and the impending epic disaster might as well have been miles instead of feet. “Damn it. Damn it,” she muttered.
So much for keeping the existence of monsters on the down low from humans. Neil was going to shift and she was too far away to stop it. If she didn’t stop him before he tore his way through the surrounding club goers, the good people of Portland were going to have irrefutable proof that the Kyn, all those creatures they had relegated to scary campfire stories, were shockingly, violently real.
The song switched, the music’s driving bea
t ramping up faster and louder. In response, the crowd surged and she lost sight of her targets. Forcing her way through, she ignored the litany of complaints and shouts. She made it a couple more feet when the first terror filled scream cut through the heavy music and her withering hope like a blade.
Another scream, this one deep, agonized, male, accompanied the perfumed tang of freshly spilt blood in the air. Before the cry faded, the sea of bodies turned into a herd of panicked prey. A chorus of screams drowned out the music. As panic set in, some of the club’s patrons fell under the press of the fleeing crowds.
As hard as it was for Xander to ignore the cries and pleas from those being trampled and crushed, she fought her way forward. It took her precious minutes to break through the battering throng and stumble free. She wiped away the blood from a shallow cut that something—probably the sharp edge of a purse—had opened along her temple.
Greeting her was a scene that would have done any horror flick proud. Neil was crouched near the back wall, sporting a bastardized version of the Born’s half form. Instead of the graceful meld of wolf and human, he was a monstrous mix of beast and twisted human features. Thin lips curled back from a hairless muzzle, revealing elongated canines nestled among other sharp, pointy teeth. Tufted ears rose above lank blond hair—hair that merged into patches of heavier fur more at home on a wolf’s pelt.
His chest and shoulders had expanded with inhuman muscle, tearing his T-shirt along the seams and leaving it hanging in tatters from the intact collar. The mishmash of human and wolf was downright disturbing, almost as disturbing as the surrounding carnage.
Blood smeared the back wall with the abandon of a child’s finger-painting. Baldy twitched on the floor, his severed right arm lying a few feet away in its own puddle of gore. His partner was curled into a fetal position, in a futile effort to keep his pale gray intestines from spilling onto the floor. Sara cowered against the wall, as far from the wreckage as she could get. Her arms, scored with deep claw marks, were wrapped around her head as she tried to make herself smaller, attempting to disappear.
Not everyone in the club portrayed the intelligence to get the hell away from the monster. While the majority of the crowd kept trying to make the exits, a foolish few remained behind, either too stubborn, or too dense, to understand the danger they were in. A couple of very buff males were trying to keep Neil’s attention away from Sara and the two downed bouncers.
They succeeded. Unfortunately, they were woefully unprepared to face the nightmare in front of them. Improvised weapons of broken bottles didn’t do much to dissuade the shifter. Lethal nails, tipping what once were human fingers, glinted under the sporadic lighting, leaving more red ruin and agonized screams behind.
Xander shoved past the last ring of shocked onlookers and stalked forward, drawing the monster’s attention. His nails scraped against the floor as he pivoted to face her. His amber gaze, awash in a demonic red glow, was filled with single-minded murderous purpose as he focused on her. His threatening growl flashed deadly fangs and raised every hair on her body. She stilled, but didn’t look away from the feral intelligence staring back at her.
Around her, the human on-lookers scrambled back, finally realizing what stood before them was something they had no chance of defeating. The music cut off, leaving behind the low moans of the injured and dying. Sara’s piteous mewls of terror and the discordant sounds of fleeing masses played like a ghostly chorus while the tension between her and Neil stretched, creating a small well of eerie quiet.
“Come get me,” she taunted.
It was never smart to bait the insane, but she had one chance to stop this before it got any worse. Just one.
She’d probably get hurt.
Okay, scratch that. She was definitely going to get hurt.
Small price to pay for getting some answers as to what the hell was turning wolves into psychotic furry monsters. Hopefully she could bring Neil in alive. The last two wolves didn’t give her a choice, and she was tired of dragging broken bodies back to her alpha.
Neil darted forward, forcing her back as he swiped out.
She jerked, sucking in her stomach, but not in time to miss the burn of his nails against her skin. Dammit, the one area her open jacket didn’t manage to cover. Even as she spun out of reach, the warning kiss of heat filtered through her thin T-shirt to the skin beneath.
Pivoting to follow her, he turned, keeping her trapped between the back wall, the torn bodies, and him.
She held her position, trapping his maddened gaze with her own and let her wolf join the fight.
Neil paused, his nose twitching, taking in her altered scent. Realization of who he faced hit, causing his muscles to tense even as a cunning intelligence emerged under the insane fury, twisting his features.
With no time to shift into full warrior form, Xander kept her transformation localized until her fingers mirrored the same deadly talons as her opponent.
His rumbled snarls echoed through the club as he closed the distance between them, one stiff step at a time.
Curling her lip, she met him halfway. Their bodies hit and her heavy leather jacket shredded under his claws. His fetid breath fanned her face as the warped wolf snarled and snapped, trying to find an opening. She managed to rip her claws across his ribs, causing him to grunt, as she momentarily forced him to retreat. Undeterred, he rushed back in.
All of Xander’s training took a back seat to instinct as she faced the maddened creature. Her focus narrowed to the whirlwind of fangs and claws as they grappled for dominance.
Skin, hers and his, tore under the merciless attacks. Menacing growls and painful yips punctuated the sound of snapping teeth. She blocked his repeated attempts to tear out her throat by slashing her nails over his distorted muzzle, forcing him to pull back. Her jacket sported a collection of ragged tears, and her T-shirt offered a poor layer of protection between his lethal swipes and her skin.
Fresh blood decorated the floor at their feet. She used her smaller stature to go in low, trying to hamstring him. He twisted and spun away. Changing direction, she sprang up, curled her nails into lethal hooks, and dug them into his muscled back. With a wrench, she dragged them down his spine, leaving scarlet slashes behind.
His pain-filled yelp quickly turned into a low threatening growl as the iron rich scent of blood flooded the air. With unexpected speed, he grabbed her arm, yanked her over his back, and flung her to the floor. Her spine met the concrete, slamming the breath from her chest, and slowing her reactions.
She struggled to sit up, barely getting her arms in front of her to hold Neil off. Time slowed. Razor sharp teeth snapped inches from her face. Inch by precious inch, she forced him back, her arms trembling under his weight.
He was so close, there was no way to miss the moment when his bloodlust rose, sweeping away what little remained of the man and leaving behind a homicidal-crazy wolf. As he turned Feral, her option of bringing him in alive took a flying leap.
Done with the kid gloves, she let the pressing weight of her attacker drive her back and down. Distracted by the potential meal, he didn’t notice as she curled her legs and tucked her feet against his stomach. Keeping one claw-tipped hand wrapped around his neck, she shoved with her feet. Neil went airborne. The force of his flight left her holding a chunk of bloody meat that once was part of his throat.
Before the gravely injured monster could hit the ground, another shape sprang out of the shadows and sailed over Xander, crashing into the rogue and sending him sprawling across the blood-slicked floor. Xander rolled to her hands and knees to find Ryuu crouched over the downed shifter. A series of low, dangerously serious noises trickled from Ryuu’s throat.
“A little late to the party, aren’t you, Ryuu?” Xander asked, carefully getting to her feet. Her movements pulled her torn skin, causing her to grimace. Needing a minute to regain her breath, she examined the tattered remains of her leather jacket. “Damn it, I loved this jacket.”
Walking over to the tw
o men, she released the magic holding her partial shift. She shook out the pins and needles of her hands as she brushed past Ryuu, who didn’t take his eyes off Neil. Kneeling beside her injured prey, her fingers drifted over the wound in Neil’s throat.
“Why isn’t this healing?” she murmured. When Neil tried to snap at her, she whacked his distorted muzzle. “Settle down.”
Unless silver was involved shifters were notoriously fast healers.
Blood continued to pool from the wound, a dark puddle that sucked the club’s muted light into its abyss. Murmurs grew around them, but no one dared to come forward. Yet.
She was about to lose her only lead. If Neil took his human form, maybe he could heal enough to keep breathing. She grabbed his snout and forced him to meet her gaze. “Change, damn you!”
Savage madness stared back.
She shot Ryuu a look. “You need to take over.”
The slender Asian man knelt next to her and pushed her hand away. He grasped the warped face in his hands.
Xander scooted back to give him room while the warm brush of magic rose. Movement on the edge of her vision had her looking up in time to spot some brave soul making her way over to one of the bleeding men who faced Neil with a broken bottle.
Pale and shaken, the young woman met Xander’s gaze briefly before dropping her eyes. “I’m a second year med student,” she said as her glance flicked back up.
Xander gave her a short nod and the med student scrambled to the wounded man. Xander felt the energy gathering around Ryuu. Her wolf pressed against her skin, wanting to get closer to the familiar warmth of the pack. She fought her instinctive reaction to the magic Ryuu was drawing on to heal Neil. As the Motoki Pack’s Second, the amount of power he used would normally force an injured shifter to change, allowing them to heal. Yet, the form under Ryuu’s hands quivered, but didn’t transform.
“Ryuu?” Alarm rose. This didn’t make sense.
