Now was the time for action.
Their noses were on keen alert as they made their way toward a remote spot on the Olympic Peninsula. William had chosen the runners for ancestry instead of warrior prowess.
They could all shift.
As they did now.
To the casual observer, it would look like black wings and bodies, flying against the backdrop of the night's sky.
Only the eyes would give an observer pause.
Crimson.
Like blood.
CHAPTER 30
catalyst
Julia rolled over onto her side, her body shuddering in response.
She realized she'd made the gravest, most novice mistake in the world. She had drunk water from a creek. Untreated. Did her Alaskan upbringing teach her nothing?
Dumb!
She had Beaver Fever. Julia had consumed a ton of creek water and now it felt like someone was taking her insides out with a spoon. Worse, she wasn't throwing up or the other. Oh no. But a fine fever was there, securing a good foothold.
Climbing higher.
Julia remembered when she was young, her mother had said she was a “burner.” One of those kids that got rid of being sick by jerking their core temperature up to an insanely dangerous level.
Like now.
Julia shivered, crawling back into the crevice of an old log. The wooden embrace was full of sodden leaves and God knows what else. She flung her arm out, bending it at the elbow to fit inside the tight space. She shuddered, as she put the bare skin of her forehead against the cold wetness of her jacket, dampened by her environment.
Julia fell into a fitful doze, her body intermittently shaking from exhaustion and sickness. She was completely vulnerable and alone.
The cougar knew that, having scented its prey in the meadow. It followed the female back to where she lay inside a downed log in the forest. The cougar slunk closer, knowing that the prey was weakened. And safely inside its territory.
The cougar prowled toward the log.
It scented danger too late.
The werewolves moved in with typical stealth, tearing the cat's large head off its shoulders even as it turned to swipe. They executed the maneuver with precision and accuracy. Wasting nothing, they feasted on the most delicate part of their kill, leaving the remainder for possible consumption later. They were wary. Many scents were all around them. The enemy... and others.
What lay within the folds of the log was too precious for dispatch from the dumb creature of the forest.
A lowly cat no less.
They moved to the log, peering inside.
*
vampire
The ravens lit upon the branches of the trees. They had not discovered the scent of the Singer, but that of the dogs. Circling the position, spying the group of four Were with the sharpness of their eyesight in raven form, they settled on the highest branches. William sent out an alert to the others, a single cawing tone of specific meaning. They fell to the ground as a well-oiled machine, from thirty of forty feet of height, their wings melting into deadened flesh and bone as they dropped. It was a beautiful symphony of purposeful landing which began with feathers and ended with feet which touched the earth with a thud-less hop, silent.
But not silent enough.
The Alpha amongst the Were snapped his head up, his senses on full alert. His snout swung toward the three he'd brought with him and turned to his first, giving a snort. The other Were scooped the girl out of the log. The Alpha scented her sickness and paused. She was very ill. He breathed deeper, maybe not permanent? It didn't matter, the time to move was now.
He moved in the opposite direction of the scent he'd caught that accompanied the noise.
Vampire.
They would not recapture his precious cargo.
They began to move away in battle formation, the Alpha at their back, his half-formed hands at the ready, the Rare One in the arms of his second.
*
the Feral
The feral moved from his discovery with precision and energy, the meal he'd consumed affording him the speed and agility that would be necessary to find the female.
He knew he should never have left her. She had escaped him. Judging by the tracks in the rock cave he'd found, she had wiggled out. Her small frame had allowed maneuverability.
The feral ran hard, smoothly evading every obstacle, his form perfectly suited for the environment in which he traveled.
He hit upon her scent and stopped short. It had changed.
She was sickened by something. He scented deeper. She had drunk water and had the sickness that humans were susceptible to. It was not possible for him to be affected. He moved forward, scenting the many nuanced odors which preceded him.
He welcomed the challenge of their presence. There would need to be many to keep him from the female.
Mine, his mind said.
Mine.
****
Scott
Scott stopped suddenly. His hands went to the hard planes of his stomach. “What is it?” Jen asked, her breathing labored, they'd been near-running since they'd discovered Julia's disappearance.
Scott felt a dull pain in his guts, bowels and a burning in the back of his neck. He described it to Marcus and his father replied.
“She's sick and that's what you'd feel,” his tone ominous, knowing.
Scott wanted to get moving but Marcus explained briefly, “A soul-meld is more than a pairing of Singers. It's an awareness of each other,” he made his hands collide, the fingers lacing together. “She has encountered,” he waffled his hand back and forth, “something and is ill.”
Scott's teeth clenched together. This was just getting better and effing better.
“Well...” Brendan began. “She's sick alright and the Were have her again.”
Scott's eyes locked with Brendan's, sweat running down between his shoulder blades, chilling as his skin dampened in the cool night air. Then Brendan said the thing that made Scott's blood run cold, “The feral is out there,” he lifted his nose to the air, pushing a good amount of an invisible fragrance right underneath his nose with his palm, “vampire and werwolves.”
“Wait! Flag on the play!” Jen yelled, throwing a flag on an imaginary football field.
They all turned to her. Jen planted her hands on her hips. “What... more werewolves? The feral and...?”
Brendan nodded. “Yeah, I'd recognize wet dog anywhere. And the red feral... he's his own tomato. The vampire, well... we know what they smell like.”
“Shit,” Scott responded definitively and began jogging in the direction they'd been heading, impatient to get to her.
“Scott!” Marcus yelled after his son.
Scott whirled around. “No! I'm not waiting another second. It's already been too many seconds.”
The siblings all looked uneasily at each other, following Scott.
He couldn't think until he had Julia safe. His change of heart was breathtaking in its completeness.
*
Julia
Julia moaned, the constant rocking motion waking her. She wished she hadn't awoken. She looked up into a pair of eyes she hoped to never see again.
Tony. It didn't matter what form he was in, she'd recognize his stench anywhere.
She swore he grinned when he saw recognition dawn on her face.
Julia tried to struggle in his grasp but was too weak by far to do anything.
“Stay still,” he said in a low growl, “you're sick.”
Julia felt hot tears she couldn't afford to lose run down her face.
Helpless again. Grief crashed into her like an earthquake. It shook the very foundation of her soul and nothing but despondency remained.
Tony looked down at the flushed face of the Rare One. He could scent her displeasure at being held by him coming out of every pore of her body. Even if she'd been well, she couldn't have fought him. Except for her gifts she was helpless. Helplessly female and ill in an intoxicating mix t
hat made his perverted heart speed. He could feel the presence of the Alpha at his back and didn't care.
Tony had never been one to follow rules.
He'd have her, squirming and fighting. It'd be amazing. He crushed her against himself and she made a pain sound, trying to beat at his chest weakly.
Scott felt a great hopelessness well up inside him that was so foreign to his nature he interpreted it for what it was.
Julia.
And on the top of it all, fear, discomfort and pain.
Someone was hurting her as she succumbed to illness. Scott's hands clenched into fists of rage. Fists which knew how to deliver punishment. And they would.
Soon.
Scott increased his pace to a sprint. His Singer strength, endurance and speed were on a par with the Were... and the vampire. His siblings and parent followed in a rainbow blur of colors, their hues mixing inexplicably as they drew closer to Julia. Their familial footprint as they advanced into battle was formidable.
Dangerous.
William and the others chased the trail laid by the Were as they ran, Julia's scent mingled with theirs. Her scent was off. Now that he had shifted back from raven form, his senses seemed almost dulled, even though he knew they were a hundred times more sensitive than those of humans.
He sped, every thought, every fiber of his being, trained to overtake them and rescue Julia.
The feral watched those of his kind take the female... sickened and unable to defend herself from the one Were which he hated most. The one who had taunted him. Given him hose showers that had bruised his skin with the force of the spray.
Given him prey that was spoiled or infirm.
Yes, he would know his foul odor anywhere.
A tingling rush of fighting adrenaline surged through him.
The feral charged from the left, crashing out of the brush, thinking two thoughts simultaneously:
They were nearly nose-blind to have not scented him this close. His step faltered for one half a second when he recognized the female Were he'd harmed in his pen, traveled with them. A moment's peace touched him as he realized she was whole and well again.
That peace fled as he barreled into the Were which led, his talons slicing the neck as he launched a counterstrike, one to four.
Joseph spun too late as the assault came at his third from the front and couldn't believe he hadn't scented another Were this close. It was completely unexpected. He growled at his sister, “Run!”
She would be crushed by the red, every protective instinct Joseph possessed punching to life, his reaction automatic.
Adi ignored her brother and ran toward where Tony held Julia, the feral having ripped three holes in the leading Were's vulnerable neck. As he dropped from the killing blow, his blood blanketing the forest like a carpet of crimson, Adriana leapt. As her arms were outstretched, Tony casually tossed Julia to the ground.
She landed in Adi's embrace and they fell together on the soft forest debris.
The feral met her eyes for one moment and she cringed backward, scooping Julia closer in her arms.
Her brother and Tony circled the red. His coat shone like fire burnt down to embers, and she knew they would kill him.
It made her chest tight to think it. Adi shook it off. What was wrong with her? He was feral.
He had hurt her.
But deep within, something stirred and responded to him, against every precept and instinct.
Adriana did not wish for his death.
She turned her attention to Jules. She was burning up, moaning and thrashing. Adrianna forced her human form to return, as difficult as it was to change to half-wolf, it hurt more to go back to human so quickly, a brutal energy siphon. But she didn't want Jules to see her and be afraid.
Adi held Jules in her arms as the feral and werewolves circled each other just as the vampire entered the glade and a troop of Singers broke out of the forest opposite them.
Oh shit! Adi thought... we'll never make it out of here alive.
Julia opened her eyes just then and her fevered stare latched onto Adriana. “Adi...” she said weakly.
“I'm here, Jules,” she said, wiping sweaty strands of hair out of her face.
“Don't let them... hurt me...” Julia said.
Never, Adi thought, rolling the small bundle that was Julia into her embrace and standing without effort.
After all, she was a werewolf.
She faced off with the vampire and Singers, her grin looking like a wolf in sheep's clothing.
An apt comparison.
CHAPTER 31
reckoning
Scott stared at the female werewolf that held Julia.
Their queen.
His... and growled. He didn't know where that primitive utterance had come from but he rolled with it instinctively. He saw the vamps at the same time the werewolves went after the big red guy.
Lots to do here. Scott was always game, his body practiced and ready for violence.
It moved forward of its own volition.
William saw the group of Singers and paused. His nostrils flared and he recognized something about the one which led, his scent was slightly different. William was a runner. He was bred to recognize the Rare Blood in Singers. Julia was pure. But this one, he had enough quantum for William to respond, every tracking instinct tingled inside him, even as Julia was in his sights.
Who was he?
William would soon find out as the one he stared at launched himself with the speed of a Singer who was trained, seasoned and in the prime of his life, his direction aimed for Julia.
Julia rose to consciousness as if swimming from the bottom of a pool but without the benefit of alertness. She was in a fog, the fever stealing her cognitive reasoning, making her slow and thick-feeling.
She watched the scene unfold from the cradle of Adi's arms.
Scott came toward Julia in a flash of brilliant color, the tailwind of colors behind him she intuited as the rest of his family. From Julia's left William and the vampire tore toward her, the feral howling in misery, the tone of it told her all she needed to know.
He drove to get to her, kept at bay by Tony and Joseph.
But maybe not for long.
Julia made the most difficult decision of her life but she knew it would solve the current problem instantly. Her mind sought what it needed and when she found it... the metal flashed in the gloom of the forest, making its way to her as if by invisible strings.
She grabbed the hilt of the stolen weapon, her telekinetic ability bringing it to her in a rush of surprise to all. The supernaturals in the forest stilled their movements.
The desired effect was instantaneous.
Marcus watched his utility knife, that he routinely wore at his hip, come unlatched and spin away from his body, lurching toward Julia.
Hilt first.
Julia caught it in her hand, flicked it open, held it to her own throat and screamed hoarsely, “Stop!”
Adi looked down at Julia. “No!”
“Let me down, Adi,” her voice steady.
Adriana did, Julia sliding down the front of her body and swaying on her feet, her head swimming with pain and vertigo.
Julia looked at William, as still as a statue. “Do not,” he whispered. “None of us wish for this end, Julia. This is not the answer.”
Scott stopped breathing when he saw the metal gleaming against the pale throat of the Queen of the Blood Singers. The fibers of his being pulled taut to the breaking point while his soul shrieked inside him. He made a move to step forward and Julia gaze shifted to his. “Don't even try it. I know you hate me,” she hissed, her strength ebbing, her hand shaking from the strain of keeping it steady.
The fibers of his being cinched tighter in discomfort, her safety in jeopardy by her own hand. Scott stood poised to launch himself at her the moment her attention wavered, the pain of not touching her unbearable. It was unlike anything he'd ever known. Every bruise, every battle wound... nothing compared.
/>
Julia backed away from all of them, her back touching the trunk of a tree. They stood, all eyes tracking her progress, knowing that a false move could end her life. Then what would they have? What would she be?
Dead is what.
As the tears began to flow, Julia realized that nothing good had happened to her since Jason's death. Her lower lip trembled and her hand shook as she determined that this was the best answer for her after all. She was tired.
So tired.
Joseph and Tony saw her expression first as they were the closest. But it was the feral who acted, his half-wolf form slipping off him like water sheeting off glass.
He sprang forward, human again for that moment.
The moment of truth.
Julia saw him and her heart stalled in her chest.
She dropped the knife, all thought of death forgotten.
It speared the earth at her feet and she staggered forward without thinking.
****
Kent
Cynthia thanked the nice lady with the sad eyes for the room, nodding in all the right places when she told her it was but a transitional respite. Blah, blah, blah. Cynthia got it. A place to lay her head on a pillow, none of the creatures in sight. They couldn't have followed her all the way to the outskirts of Seattle. She breathed a sigh of relief for the first time in what felt like forever.
She opened the door to the dark room and saw a bunch of plaster repair and the evidence of damage all over the place. The lady turned to her, the chain that hung off her glasses catching the light. “Don't mind the mess, we're doing a touch of remodeling.”
Cynthia looked around her. Looked like more than a touch. The window looked the worst. She walked over to it, seeing the remnants of hand-blown glass, wavy and warped, encased in a solid wood frame. Hairline fissures scattered about the center were taped so they couldn't splinter further. She turned her head and saw the old lady's face in profile. “What happened?”
Lycan Alpha Claim 3 Page 35
