by Tee Ayer
Rebel Heart
DarkWorld: SkinWalker 8.5
Tee Ayer
Contents
Foreword
1. Hunter Hunted
2. Amateur Hour
3. Kiss of Death
4. Deal or No Deal
5. Cave of Sacraments
6. Blades & Blood
7. Pariah
8. Wild
9. Rabid
10. Denial & Tantrums
11. Doppelganger
12. R & R
13. Tattletale
14. He’s been shot!
15. Playing Doctor
16. Do I know you from somewhere?
The SkinWalker Series
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About the Author
Foreword
Thank you for following Kai’s story so far into the series. I’ve had numerous readers message to ask about Kai’s past, what made her leave home and run away to Chicago, and how she felt about her newfound power to track down wraiths.
Rebel Heart is a compilation of scenes or snippets from Kai’s past before Skin Deep and even before that.
I thoroughly enjoyed exploring Kai as a character and delving into her years before the SkinWalker series started.
Hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it.
Much love
Tee
Hunter Hunted
7 Months after Arrival in Chicago
Being distracted was bad for breathing when it came to a SkinWalker. Being distracted was literally deadly for a vigilante demon-hunter.
Sucks to be me.
Kailin Odel, Alpha of Clan Panthera, runaway, recently turned vigilante wraithhunter. So much for all that badassness.
Today, my head throbbed as though a freight train had decided to run through my skull, and the pounding hindered my inability to stay alert. Which was how he’d gotten the jump on me before I’d even realized I was being tailed.
Certainly not my finest of moments.
Where was my damned panther sense of awareness when I needed it? Oh yeah, tamped down so far that one day I’d probably have trouble finding it in a hurry—knowing my luck probably when my life depended on it.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and a tiny part of my panther shifted in response to danger. I drew a slow breath, scented the air around me and turned on the heel of my boot, unsurprised to find a shadowy figure keeping pace with me, just too far away to identify, but close enough that they would not easily lose me.
They did that sometimes, these wraiths. They shifted into the shadows almost becoming part of the smoky darkness, before emerging again to pounce on unsuspecting humans.
No wonder all the cool TV shows never missed an opportunity to say, “Watch your 6.” If only I’d been watching mine.
I straightened, ignoring the clanging of my skull as I stared at the guy. I should have known ages ago that he was there since he stank of Wraith. That was one part of this new ability I’d discovered, an ability to home in on them, a strange power to smell their unique scent. I couldn’t be sure if that was courtesy of my panther sense of smell or something else in addition to my recently obtained ability to see the coral residue the wraiths left on everything they touch.
I wasn’t sure yet what the residue was. Something like sweat maybe. Or perhaps even smears of their aura or energy? I’d tried to find more information on wraiths but damn it was difficult. Almost as though the history of wraiths was a taboo subject.
Now, I focused on the creature in front of me. His sallow skin hung on a too-slender frame, pointy elbows jutting out against the fabric of his sports coat, the shadows beneath his eyes more like canyons than smudges.
He smiled and I was sure he’d meant the expression to be sheepish, self-deprecating. But it simply looked macabre, as though the man was a mere puppet being manipulated by someone else, controlled enough that no emotion would appear genuine.
Which could be the case with my stalker. Who knew?
Thing is, that vigilante wraith-hunter part of my sense of identity was only a recent thing. I’d only found out by chance, and it had taken me weeks to learn how to shadow a wraith well enough without getting caught.
Guess this particular wraith was also lacking in stalker skills.
I was about to ask him what he wanted when he cleared his throat, tipping his head to the side. “I apologize if I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”
His skin bore a grey sickly pallor, though I could still see the remnants of the human’s tan complexion which had remained long after he’d been sucked dry of his life and soul by this wraith.
I folded my arms, gritting my teeth unconsciously. Too late I realized how badly the movement hurt and I almost winced. “You didn’t scare me. Who are you and what do you want?” Spine straight, I held his gaze, determined that he know I wasn’t going to be an easy mark.
He smiled again and this time the expression was cold. So the wraith was able to pull off a cold sneer, but sucked at smiling? Why wasn’t that a surprise to me?
He straightened again. “I’m here because it has come to the attention of my…colleagues that you are responsible for a spate of the deaths of our people here in Chicago.”
Spate? I’d barely killed a handful of them so far.
I raised an eyebrow. “By people, I suppose you mean soul-sucking demonic creatures who kill humans and use their bodies like meat suits?” I kept my tone even, as though the concept didn’t bother me in the slightest.
While I spoke, I was assessing my opponent. He may have appeared rail-thin but wraiths were frickin’ strong even if they were more shadow and bone and death than living creatures.
He took a step closer, a breeze ruffling the dove-gray silk of his trousers. “You’ve been killing our people and I’m here to ensure you stop.” He tugged at the cuffs of his sports coat, a gold watch glinting on his wrist as he moved.
“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” I asked him, keeping calm even as I planted my feet on the ground, ready to grab the knife I kept inside my right boot if he so much as blinked at me funny.
He tilted his head again, giving me that glassy ET stare that gave me the heebie jeebies. Then he sighed. “We don’t have time to waste with trials and defense and prosecution bullshit. I’m here to eliminate a threat.”
I frowned. “And you think it’s going to be that easy? Follow me in the dark, assassinate me, and just like that,” —I snapped my fingers— “problem solved?”
He flashed a toothy grin. “Something like that.”
I smirked. But, despite the bravado I projected, I had to admit to a certainl level of concern. Why he was so damned confident? He’d come alone, and he truly believed it was going to be a simple exercise to get rid of me?
Maybe he wasn’t alone?
I centered myself, keeping my expression unperturbed as I dug deep inside me for my panther senses. Feline sense of smell and hearing were so far superior to humans that it was off the scale.
I’d only been in the city for just over half a year now and had been wraith-hunting at night for an even shorter space of time. I wasI’d been forced to keep my activities to after dark, knowing there were too many eyes around, too many opportunities to be spotted while I investigated, tracked and eliminated the soul-suckers who’d been allowed to run rampant over the city, murdering innocent humans left right and center.
> Besides, I still had my studies and my job. Neither of which could be avoided.
As an Alpha, I automatically fall into the role of protector, even though I didn’t exactly have my own clan to rule over. I belonged to a powerful and ancient alpha family, which meant I am privileged in the gene-pool department. I hadn’t earned that position though, and I’d rebelled against the expectations that came with being an alpha.
I narrowed my eyes now as I studied the wraith, curious as to how and when he’d attack. He was well-dressed, gave off an air of wealth, of money to spend without a care. Perhaps he’d taken a lawyer or a business magnate?
I came across wraiths at random, spotting the remnants of the coral colored residue they left in their wake. It wasn’t often that they came to me.
Oh, who was I kidding. Wraiths never came to me. They ought to know better.
The wraith across from me cleared his throat, tugged his sleeves up his arms and stepped toward me the energy around him emanating impatience. “I’d best get this over with. I have an important appointment and I don’t want to be late.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Is that supposed to help me in some way?” I wasn’t even sure what the wraith was planning on doing.
And then he moved, lightning fast, a blur of shadow as he slipped into the air, disappeared and materialized right beside me. Moonlight glinted on a slash of silver that sliced the air and sped toward me.
I ducked in time, listened to the whirr of the blade as it sped over my head, followed closely by a low grunt of impatient irritation. I rolled my eyes. I was right: he had expected this exercise would be easy.
I spun around, then slammed my fist into the back of his head, enjoying the sound of bone cracking. I’d used a little too much force, but the guy was trying to kill me, so I had a reasonable defence against breaking his skull bones.
I should have compensated a little, knowing full well that the human form would be weakened as the wraith fed on body and bone and flesh, but I’d been a little too focused on staying out of the way of the oncoming blade.
Still the blow to his head wasn’t enough to take the wraith down. He spun about, almost mimicking the move I’d made only moments ago, then snapped out a hand in my direction.
I never saw it coming.
Amateur Hour
7 Months after Arrival in Chicago
I wasn’t any type of seasoned professional, and to be honest, I’d gotten by on guts, instinct and bravado since I’d come to Chicago and discovered my strange wraith-tracking ability. I really should find someone to train me in case I ever got this close to a wraith again. Maybe I ought to take up Storm’s offer of help. After all, he’d gotten me into Crawdon High even though I hadn’t had legit transfer papers. I made a mental note to speak to Storm once I was done with my attacker.
If I survive the encounter.
Fire flared in my arm and a quick glance confirmed a short dagger now embedded hilt-deep within my right bicep. Pain blasted through my flesh, but pain wasn’t something I found difficult to compartmentalize. The animal side of my nature simply drew the edge of the pain inside her, allowing me to focus on my attacker.
He walked a circle around me, a slight bounce to his step revealing his confidence, his satisfaction at success. The street around us was still dark and empty, for which I was glad. I needed an advantage over this wraith, and I saw no other option but to access my panther a little more.
No matter how much I resist this part of me it seems I all too often use my panther nature to get out of a bad situation. Whatever that meant about my inner thought process, I’d have to file it away to think on later. After I deal with the imminent threat that was the cocky wraith smirking a few feet from me.
I wasn’t entirely sure what to do next—I had to get close to him to finish the job. And this was all little new to me. I was still finding my way around what skills and tactics worked to kill these creatures and what didn’t work.
For now, I had to depended on my panther and hoped she wouldn’t sulk too long before showing up.
I watched and waited, stepping to the right as I made a rough circle around him—all while I slowly accessed my panther senses. The darkness would hide my physical transformation, thank Ailuros.
I preferred that my assailant saw as little of my true panther nature as possible just in case he managed to escape this fight alive.
Then the wraith shook his head, impatient now, tired of this game. His form shimmered and he sped toward. I was as ready as I’d ever be. As he flew at me, I reached out, feline claws extended, and grabbed him by the throat. It sounds far more dramatic than it felt.
He was heavy and his weight dragged my hand down, forcing me to draw my panther’s strength to my arm. But his momentum was enough to send us both sprawling across the sidewalk. I grabbed him with my other hand now, and held on as tight as I could, all the while feeling the regret fill me up with darkness. I would have to kill the host of this creature if I wanted to stay alive. I’d learned this the hard way, this reality of how I had to kill wraiths. And I still hated it.
The creature scrabbled at his throat with desperate fingers, eyes now wide, filled with fury and with surprise. And edged with fear. One hand remained at his throat while the other went to his jacket.
My two-handed grip around his throat meant I could do nothing to protect myself when he pulled out a second dagger and plunged it onto my other arm without blinking an eye. Merciless bastard. I suppose he’d hoped the pain would make me loosen my grip or even let him go.
It did neither.
His momentary surprise, the widening of his dead glassy eyes, the shifting of his thin lips, gave me enough time to let go with one hand and land a full-force punch to his gut. A low guttural groan escaped his throat, torso curving from impact and maybe pain. I guess wraiths felt some form of pain, but I didn’t spend any time caring.
I grabbed his throat again with both hands and squeezed as hard as I could. Blood seeped from both the wounds on my arms as I flexed my muscles, but I ignored it and held tight.
The wraith kicked out, his booted foot connecting with my shin sending eye-watering pain up my leg. I wanted to hiss but instead a low feline growl emanated along the street.
The sound rumbled through us and it took me a moment to register that I was growling. And of course, the wraith got the shock of his life. Pity he wasn’t about to live to tell the tale.
His eyes widened as he stared at my face, likely realizing that he’d bitten off more than he could chew. Had he expected me to be a silly human girl running around the city killing his powerful brethren? Was he naive or just complacent?
The darkness in his eyes shimmered and I focus both my thoughts and my feline power on him. This was the part I didn’t like, and I had to make sure I found other ways to kill these soul-sucking assholes because I really, really didn’t enjoy his whole up close and personal thing.
And then the blackness began to swirl within his dark eyes, and he slumped forward, his weight pressing me down so much that I tried to shift aside to drop him to the sidewalk before I finished the job.
My panther chose that moment to withdraw her strength and with his full weight on top of me, it was impossible to push him off me.
And then he opened his eyes.
Kiss of Death
7 Months after Arrival in Chicago
The wraith smiled, knowing full well that he’d tricked me with his fake faint. And it was too late for me to do anything about it. Our positions were reversed and he now held my face between his hands, smiling down at me, his perfect white teeth glinting in the night, giving his face a macabre air.
There was nothing cheery about death.
I spent a second wondering if he was going to smash my head like a watermelon because the power in his hands felt immense, near impossible. I couldn’t move. Not even when he straddled me and lowered his head to mine.
What the hell was he trying to do? He wanted to kiss me? Or eat my face
? Yikes. Neither option sounded welcoming.
His mouth drew closer and closer to mine and I stiffened as his breath blanketed my face and filled my nostrils. Putrid, rotten, the odor of death was all I could smell as he closed in for the kiss.
I struggled but could do nothing. A part of my mind registered the pink-peach shimmers smudging my hands and dancing around his head like smoke, too pretty to logically be associated with this harbinger of death.
Then his lips touched mine and I choked on the smell of rot and dead flesh. The foul air swirled within my nostrils, around my face, and I pushed as hard as I could to get out of his grip. But he was way too strong for me.
And whatever he was attempting to do to me must have begun working because my vision began to blur, my lungs clenching as though starved of air.
Was he drowning me with his putrid stench? What was he doing?
Only when my panther snarled and lashed out did I understand that he was trying to kill me.
Well, that’s certainly new.
My panther side struggled for release and I didn’t have the strength nor the inclination to stop her. Liquid fire ran along my bones as they shifted and reformed excruciatingly slowly.
The shift wasn’t going to happen fast enough. He’d kill me before my panther form showed itself. Fear rose within me, but my cat growled again, this time an admonition to me, a scolding that calmed my senses enough that I was able to focus.
