by Angela Foxxe
“I’m sorry, Monique, this was the only way.”
She screamed again, but her howl came out as a growl. She stumbled to the door and collapsed against it. Her hands wouldn’t turn the knob, she had to get out though, get away from him, from the pain. She tried again, the door budged, the wind caught it and slammed it against the outside wall. Unable to stand she tumbled through it, out into the snow.
Twenty feet from the door she couldn’t see, the pain rippled through her. She dropped again, heaving up her food. The pain was so intense, only a dull ring filled her ears, she couldn’t hear the storm, or see the snow, or feel the cold. He did this to me, made me one of him. Has he be lying to me since the beginning? Oh god the things I let him do to me. Sorrow from the betrayal welled up in her, but was quickly pushed aside from the agony her body went through. Unable to take it any longer, she collapsed into the snow, curled around herself to hug away the pain.
The sun woke her, not the cold. She yawned, a long, lanky yawn that cleared the fog away from her mind. I should be dead. She wasn’t, though, and the cold didn’t seem to bother her. Her limbs felt awkward as she tried to stand. Her whole body shook from the exertion. She wobbled up to stand on four limbs. Looking down, she saw paws with white fur, but not the paws of a wolf. Sharp, curved claws came out of these. The white fur only interrupted by dark spots. Tentatively she took a step, then another. Her back and ass felt weighed down. She tried to turn her head to see it, but her body responded by turning. Several seconds of chasing her tail and she stopped. She wasn’t a wolf, nor a hawk. I’m a leopard. A snow leopard. But... I was a hawk, and now this... am I dreaming? Briefly she wondered if she were dead in the snow, and this was somehow a dream before dying. The sharp crack of a rifle shattered that illusion.
Snow beside her exploded with the impact. She jumped sideways, clearing ten feet of ground. She couldn’t tell where the bullet came from, but she didn’t need to, she just ran. Her paws glided across the fresh snow, she felt her tail swivel to offset her weight as she turned to dive behind a tree. Another crack. The bark disintegrated in a shower of splinters.
He’s out there, somewhere to the north.
She pivoted again, running as fast as her legs would take her. The ground passed by in a blur. Rocks swept up and passed her, another crack. Sparks exploded from the rock. Each shot gave her more information on where he was. Her large paws allowed her to cut corners in the snow and on the rocks. Another shot. Got you.
One last correction and she charged with everything she had. She felt stronger than she ever had. The distance narrowed with each stride. A huge rock ahead offered the perfect vantage point. Lungs barely bothered from the exertion, she slowed down to creep up to the outcropping. His smell wafted over on the breeze. She could hear his breathing. At the top of the rock, she knelt down to shimmy along the last little bit. Head resting on her paws she looked down. Behind a tree, not twenty feet away, a man knelt with a rifle. It wasn’t Scarface, she didn’t know who he was. But he smelled like trouble.
She leaped. He turned as she flew, but it wasn’t fast enough. She hit him claws out, and her fangs tore a huge chunk out of one arm. He screamed and thrashed, sending her flying. She flipped in the air, landed on her feet, and roared.
The man ripped his coat off and roared back. In an instant, his countenance shifted and he howled at her from the form of a wolf, not a man. He was bigger than her. Two hundred pounds at least. He shifted to his side, trying to get her to turn around, but she was having none of it. With a growl, she bared her fangs, ears lying flat against her head, tail straight up. He darted forward to nip at her, claws flashed and she batted his head aside. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she pounced. Her fangs found his throat and latched on. The wolf spasmed and he flew off the ground trying to buck her off or flip her over. She felt his skin tear under her as he shifted his weight so that he was on top of her. Fangs snapped inches from her. On her back now, she brought her rear claws up and shredded his belly. Now he wasn’t trying to get the upper hand so much as get away. Warm blood splashed across her coat as she tore into him. He jerked against her hard, she flew away smashing into a tree. Monique was back on her feet in an instant, tail straight back to give her the most weight. The wolf took one step toward her, then collapsed on the ground. Its pitiful whine pulled at her heart as he died.
Monique spat out the chunk of flesh that she tore from his throat. She wasn’t sure he was dead, and didn’t want to make the mistake thinking he was. Her paw batted his head aside a few times but he didn’t move. Satisfied, she turned to leave.
If he knew where I was... then they know where Carver is!
CHAPTER SEVEN
The flames reached the sky above. The intense heat melted the snow for twenty feet around the cabin. Monique looked on from the tree line, not wanting to give herself away. Three men, all dressed in hunting gear with rifles and packs watched the cabin burn. She couldn’t smell anything other than the burning wood, plastic, and synthetics that the blaze consumed. Her nose twitched, looking for any sign of Carver and Kirk. What she didn’t smell was burning meat. Whatever happened, they weren’t in that cabin.
One of them turned to the tree line. He looked up and down before walking toward her. She sunk back into the shadows. Did he see me? A few steps into the woods he stopped, looked left and right, then unzipped his pants.
He wore a large knife around his belt, and set his rifle down a few feet away. Monique circled around behind him, her cat’s stealth unsurpassed in her element. What she needed, though, was to talk to him. She padded directly behind him, the stream of his piss hid her approach. With her eyes on his back she willed herself to change. Hoping it wasn’t the painful ordeal of before. Her vision shifted as she went from cat’s eyes to human’s, her head raised, and her limbs filled out. In seconds she knelt behind him, naked, cold, but very much human.
As fast as she could, she leaped at him. Her left arm went around his throat while her right hand snapped up the knife. He froze as the cold blade slipped under his dick, sharp side up. He hissed. But he didn’t move.
“Where’s Carver?”
The wolf, she could smell it on him now that she was close to him, didn’t respond.
“You have a bitch at home, you want pups? Talk or I cut it off, and somehow I don’t think it will grow back.”
The man swallowed hard. “They took him and the pup to town.”
“Why?”
When he didn’t answer, she lifted the blade up. He raised on his toes, but said nothing.
“Fine.” She slowly stuck out her tongue and ran it up his neck to his ear. His cock jerked in response.
“Jesus fucking Christ, we needed Carver to control the pup, fuck, stop!” He screamed. Carver said Kirk was special, but how special? Was he telling the truth when he said he hadn’t done this to her? He certainly seemed like he knew what was going on.
“Jake, you okay back there?” A voice came from the clearing.
“Tell ‘em you tripped or I give you the blow job of your life,” she whispered menacingly. His cock stirred on the knife and he whimpered.
“I’m fine, just startled by something.”
She pulled the blade off of him. He let out a breath and she struck his head with the pommel. He sank to his knees. She hit him again and he was out. It wouldn’t take long for the other hunters to find him. Seconds ticked by while she evaluated her options. Town stood eleven miles away at the bottom of the mountain. In the past when she went there, she rode her four wheeler. That was back at her cabin, and these men weren’t likely to let her ride out of here. If they took Carver and Kirk there, that meant they had a vehicle of some kind not far away.
The hunter was a big man, big enough she couldn’t easily roll him over. She grabbed his rifle, the ammo pouch on his belt, and the knife before running back into the woods. Screaming followed her not thirty seconds later. How do I get to the town like this?
Monique ran until she couldn’t hear th
em any more. Her lungs burned from the exertion. The mid-morning sun warmed her skin, but it was still cold on the mountain. And she had no clothes.
She stopped to sit on a log for a minute and think. Since Carver came into her life, she’d been reacting. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ve been reacting for seven years now. It was time to stop reacting, and start acting. How was the question. Her new found nature was a mystery to her. Did Carver do it to her? It sure seemed like he knew something the night before. Or had he simply sensed it about her? In just a few days, the world had flipped on its side and everything was different.
The sharp cry of a hawk brought her attention upward. He circled above, head darting back and forth as he searched for prey. She’d done that. Without thinking, without hesitating, thrown herself off that log—knowing she would die—and then... she was a hawk.
It’s Kirk, Carver said he was special. From the moment you found him things have been stirring in you. The feelings she buried for so long had welled up in her the moment she rescued the little pup. The moment she decided to rescue him and not turn her back on him.
She looked up into the sky, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and leaped. The wind rushed under her wings as she beat them hard against the air. Her eyes popped open and she could see for miles. A glance told her she had the wings and talons of a hawk. Her snowy white feathers caught the heat as it reflected off the ground, and with no effort she raised into the sky with it. Five hundred feet flew by, then a thousand. The world looked small and pristine from up here.
It would be easy to get lost in it. To let the glory of flight, the feeling of the wind over her feathers, consume her. All too easy. She rejoiced in it for a moment. Then let her mind focus back on the task at hand. There was only one trail down that was big enough for vehicles. Even if they weren’t on it, she knew where the road was. With a mere flick of her feathers she banked hard right, tucked her wings in, and zoomed off in the direction of town.
When she was a little girl she read that hawks could reach two hundred miles an hour in a dive. She decided to see if it was true.
*
Carver growled at Brennan from across the bed of the truck.
“Oh stop your complaining, he’s alive—for now.” Brennan motioned to Kirk, in a small dog traveller made for road trips. “If you’re smart, you will not misbehave, I don’t want him hurt, but I only need him alive, not in one piece.”
Carver could barely contain himself. His growl resonated on a subsonic level sending the two men on either side of him into fits of concern. They glanced at Brennan, then back to Carver. There was power in an Alpha, not just as a leader, and they felt it on him.
“Calm down, he won’t do anything to risk his precious pup.” Brennan waved around the dead man switch he held in his hand. It was tied to a small battery pack that would release fifty thousand volts on the pup, and likely stop his heart.
“See, he calms.”
“This won’t work Brennan, he’s already chosen, and it wasn’t me,” Carver said smugly.
“The bitch?” Brennan smiled. “She’s a fine piece of ass, but I’m afraid she’s dead by now. No, it will be me Carver, or I will kill you so slowly, it will take weeks for you to die.”
*
The sky rushed by. Monique lifted her wings and the world came to a crashing halt. Her two hundred a mile an hour dive took her down the mountain and over the town in less than a minute. Now, she circled lazily above the town, her sharp hawk’s eyes seeing everything. Rocky terrain gave way to sloping hills and flat, grass-filled fields. At first there were only a few houses, but as she flew closer to the town proper, a small city sprung up in the foot hills.
Compared to New Orleans, it was a hamlet. Only a half dozen major buildings, and twice as many minor ones. Most of the people who lived in town existed off the income of the mountains. Tourists, government employees, hikers, environmentalists, all of them needed access, and when they got here, they needed supplies. The largest building stood flat against a small hill—the courthouse.
Monique circled the town once; very little, if anything moved. The roof of the courthouse came into view as she glided closer to the town. A man, rugged, with an orange hunters vest knelt behind the statue of justice. She focused her vision on him. He carried a rifle just like the rest of the hunters. With a flap of her wings, she gained a few hundred feet. Twisting her body she angled up and behind the building. The updraft carried her without her having to move. Once she was past the town she turned back to the roof. It was easily a half mile away. She folded in her wings and traded altitude for speed.
At the last moment, she triggered her change. Monique’s heel slammed into his lower back with tremendous force. She felt the bones break in his spine. He collapsed, gasping for a breath that wouldn’t come. She knelt on his neck until he stopped moving.
The rumble of a diesel truck interrupted her kill. At the end of town, an open bed truck turned the last corner. Her vision swam as the town rushed by and she could see Carver in the bed of the truck. It came to a clunking halt outside the sheriff’s office.
Figures. The whole damn town seems to be in on it.
That left her in a bind. How many people were against them, and why? Why was Kirk important enough to kill for? She quickly searched the man she killed. His clothes were too big for her, and his outfit stunk of death. The rifle would make too much noise if she used it, as would the handgun he carried. No, she was going to have to do this quietly; if there was a fight, they had too many people. She ducked down to the ledge and gave the town one more sweep, she spied what she needed
It took her five minutes to get down from the courthouse by scaling the drain in the back, another ten and she was behind the only store in town. The door that faced the same cliff as the courthouse was locked. A growl escaped her lips. She put her shoulder to it and increased pressure. The metal resisted for a moment, then protested, and finally gave with a wrench. Monique paused for a moment to make sure no one heard. Once she was in, she closed the door and leaned a rack against it to warn her if anyone came in.
You realize you just pushed in a metal fire door. Right? Something deep inside her had changed, there was no doubt. Gone was the girl hiding from her emotions, she was driven by them now. She felt a deep need to protect Kirk, to help Carver, and stop these people from hurting either. She wouldn’t call it love, but it was like that. Her heart raced at the passion she shared with him, and she could only imagine what her future would be like, when every night was like that. The twinge of pleasure, followed by the moistening of her nether regions reminded her to focus, now wasn’t the time to get lost in lust.
The General Store carried everything she needed, clothes, boots, a jacket, and a big knife. As she was about to leave, she noticed the stack of propane cans in the back. An evil grin spread across her face.
The sheriff’s office didn’t have the cliff behind it. A large, empty lot separated it from its nearest building. It was ideal for seeing someone coming from any direction. Two men on the roof, one who glanced at the sky every few minutes, reinforced their preparedness. Monique slid around back, opposite the building, behind the little diner. She could peek her eyes out and see across the street. At some point, the truck had been moved, and she could see through the picture window with the gold badge painted on it.
Scarface looked out the window right at her. She froze, terrified he saw her, but knowing sudden movement would draw his attention. When he didn’t react, she moved her head as far behind the corner of the building as she could and still see. He looked up and down the street before turning around.
She checked her pilfered watch. Any second now.
The fire alarm from the store split the air as it wailed. Oily black smoke began to drift up from the back where the propane tanks were stored. A muffled explosion told her that it reached the rest of the building, and then the blaze started in earnest. After a few moments, one of them checked his radio, then climbed down. The town
was suddenly full of people running to see what happened, and if they could help. A population this small didn’t have a dedicated fire department, it was something that everyone did.
She waited for her moment then charged across the street. One more person trying to see what happened. The remaining sentry never looked her way as she got to the sheriff’s office. She scooted along the edge to the back, the jail cell had an open, barred window. The sound of flesh on flesh echoed through it. Almost afraid to look, she hesitantly cast her eyes over the edge.
Carver sat, zip tied to a chair, as one of Scarface’s henchmen hit him in the face repeatedly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“How do I become the guardian?” Brennan asked again. When Carver didn’t answer he nodded to his associate.
Whack.
“What does he use to choose who it shall be?”
Whack.
“How long does the guardian retain their abilities?”
Whack.
“Damn it, Carver, stop being so stubborn and tell me something!”
Whack.
Carver’s face felt like one pile of pain. His right eye puffed shut, and his lips were bleeding. The torture hadn’t even really begun. All he could do was buy Monique time to get Kirk and get away. It wasn’t as if he could answer any of the questions Brennan asked. Carver had assumed that Kirk’s mother would be the guardian. When she died, he figured that was it. But now... now he knew it was always meant to be Monique. Despite the pain, he smiled, cracked lips bleeding. She was a magnificent woman, and Kirk couldn’t have chosen a better one.
“I would tell you Brennan, but you wouldn’t believe me, you think Kirk is something to be controlled, and I’m telling you, his power is not for those who seek it, but those who need it.” The man’s fist broke his nose this time. Pain blossomed in his forehead and he felt blood flow freely down his chest.
