by Kim Faulks
“No.” Her voice softened. There was a shake of her head that didn’t look convincing. “Your place is here with your family. My place is with mine.”
I sidestepped the lovebirds and made for Gunny’s Jeep. We were down to one car now, but not for long. One call to Senator Artemas Roth and a black Escalade was waiting for us at Davonport.
I yanked open the door and climbed into the back. X followed, leaving Alpha to slip into the passenger’s seat. There seemed to be an unspoken alliance with the little wolf. I stole a glance at her as she settled. The gashes in her scalp were healed. Her shaved hair was growing back thick and even. She was a wolf, but her pack was a pack of two, and that was the way she and Alpha wanted it to stay.
Gunny’s heavy tread echoed before she slid into the front seat and yanked the door closed. She turned, giving Alpha a hard glare—there was no room for weakness here. “You want to do this…I mean really do this?”
Alpha stared straight ahead and waited. If anyone thought he wasn’t one-hundred fucking percent dialed in, they were dead wrong. “I have no idea what kind of Hell we’re going to unleash by doing this—but I want him dead. And not just because he’s a gutless prick who left his own wife behind to save his skin, but because anyone that had a hand in Stitch’s death deserves to be six-fucking feet under, and that includes my goddamn uncle.”
Gunny gave a nod, and then turned the key.
She needed to hear it.
We all did.
We’d killed in the line of duty and we’d killed to protect.
But this was something different. This was pure, blood-chilling vengeance.
My brother might walk the long and lonely road to Hell…but he wouldn’t go alone.
2
Ghost
My stomach tightened. I stilled, lowered myself to hands and knees and dropped my face to the grass.
There…over there. I shoved upwards, kept my steps light and fast, moving down the slope. Rocks skidded from under my feet, but I was too high, and upwind. They’d never see me, never smell me—not until it was too late.
Movement darted in the distance. Not fast, not panicked…not yet. The whip of a tail, head high for a second until she dropped her focus to nibble sweet green grass.
She was young, fresh…her mother close by.
I licked my lips, stilled at the side of a pine and yanked the pouch from my waist. The cold water hit my mouth. I took a deep draw and swallowed, stilling the gnawing ache for a second before the agony returned with a vengeance.
My thighs trembled, breath stuttered. I yanked the tie closed and bound the soft flask to my belt. I was too far…farther than I’d dared before, and I never came this way. I glanced behind me to unfamiliar trees. Go back, that voice whispered inside. Go back…we’ll survive—somehow.
I listened to that voice…I needed that voice. It saved me, protected me…it killed…for me. It was the voice of my father…and the words of my mother. I reached for my neck and brushed the totem, tracing the open jaw, long canines, and the thick outline of my spirit.
The ache radiated, clawing into my chest, sticking my lips to my gums. I closed my eyes. Every cell in my body was screaming…eat…I need food. The snap of a twig echoed. Just a little farther…the hill sloped down and then rose back up. By the next rise I’d have her…by the next rise I could eat.
I pushed off, scurrying for the next tree. My body trembled, muscles ready for the hunt. A tight cramp spread through my jaw, throbbing, drawing me closer to the beast and the whispers in my mind.
The hard dry pelt brushed my arms, pale silver hair caught the blinding ray of the sun, turning the storm-cloud colored hide almost gold. “Soon…” I growled. “By the next rise.”
Thorns snagged my pants as I moved forward, head down, keeping to the downwind, and moved lower and around, skirting them, pushing them to exactly where I needed. My belly flared, lightning ache slashed across my side. I gripped my waist, finding the hard ridges of my ribs and the jutting bone of my hip. Not enough food…and too much snow.
Unusual snow. It came in drifts, falling lightly to coat the ground, and then it grew, smothering, suffocating until there was nothing left.
The long cold had been hard, storm clouds brought with it savage lightning and driving rain. I’d hunkered inside, keeping my animal hard around me—staying warm, until I could hunt. With the storms came the young green…and with it food.
The breeze hit my face, scattering my hair to the wind. I sucked in the pungent scent of urine and pushed with the balls of my feet, driving toes into soft dirt. Movement stilled. I froze. Heart hammering. Breath too loud. Slow down now…easy does it…easy…does…it.
I closed my eyes and my world narrowed. There was just me and her out here. The hungry and the young. I could almost taste her flesh. Almost feel the warmth of her in my belly, the ache sated… sleep would come, just a little…until I’d wake and eat again.
The snap of a twig sounded, small…and again. Moving slow. Growing fainter. I dragged open my eyes.
Don’t lose her. Just don’t lose her.
I surged ahead, quick strides. Stopping…breathe…breathe. Her mother darted forward, lingering at the base of the gully where the grass grew thick and lush. I could take her now…I could take her…
No…don’t…wait. It’s all about the timing…all about survival.
Air rushed in carving through my nose to fill my lungs. She was right there. She was—my stomach trembled, the need cut like acid through my veins. I’d die if I didn't eat. I’d die…alone.
No. Never alone.
Never alone…never alone. I flattened my palm against the thick, scaly bark and pushed ahead. She moved higher, leaping with short bursts to catch the beginning of the rise. It wasn’t far. If I could just get ahead…just a little.
A deep burn flared in my lungs. She moved higher, halfway now. I whipped my head to the next tree, and sprang once more. Toes dug harder, gouging through pine needles to skim rocks and sharp twigs. I stole glances, surging…fighting.
Her mother stilled, tail standing half-mast.
She knew something was wrong. Could she smell me? See me?
The fawn skittered farther upward, oblivious to her mother scenting the wind.
Just a little more…please…just a little more.
Her mother’s darting eyes searched the valley. She raised her head and sniffed the air.
The rough edges of my hide scraped, wearing close against my elbow, and stuck to the underside of my arm. I could feel her now…the hunger…the power…the animal.
My spine straightened as the hide flattened against my back. The wind…the wind. I raised my head, drawing in the sharp tang of ammonia. Fresh meat. So fresh, and we were hungry.
Her mother moved. My heart thundered.
Each boom drove the desire harder. Claws scraped along my arm, moving down to my wrist. Silver bristles shone as the hard pelt softened, sliding now and not scraping as the skin of my bear smothered me.
Run, she commanded. Now.
I ground my jaw and sprang, driving my feet into the ground and punched the air. My body trembled, all senses firing as I drove my body toward the rise. She was almost there now, almost ready to slip ahead of her mother and crest the rise.
The tiny bleat of warning came too late. The fawn raised her head, wide, black eyes searching. Desperation roared as I whipped past tree after tree. My spirit closed in. The skin of my bear stuck against my arms and hugged my thighs. The smashed flat pelt of my bear’s face pressed against the back of my head.
My bones trembled, agony flared, driving my hands to the ground. Long black claws sank over pink nails, digging deeper, pushing harder. The brutal snap in my spine drove me downward, hunkering like a beast. A savage roar thundered in my chest and spilled from my lips.
Her mother was panicking now. Tiny bleats turned frantic. That swish of her tail drove my steps harder…faster. I left the thunder behind and closed in. The tiny one leapt, striding
out with those long, lanky legs to surge ahead.
White flared from the underside of her tail as the mother feinted left, cutting across my view…the roar savaged my throat with a burn. Hungry….hungry…she wanted me to follow. Leave the little one behind. The weak one. The slow one.
I surged ahead, stretching out with long strides of my paws and crested the rise. She was panicked, and ran headfirst into a thicket of thorns. Her cry spiked my pulse, punching my heart into my throat as she kicked with a frenzy, struggling to get free.
I opened my mouth as the skin of my bear closed around my cheeks. My jaw ached, bones stretching, molding…long, hard canines grew thick and curved as her sight took over my own.
The fawn scurried, kicked and leapt. I swiped, claws gouging the air inches from her tail as she scampered free.
No!
The thicket buckled, twigs snapped under my weight as heavy paws trampled. She darted right and left, head up, bounding hard down the rise. I moved right, and then left. Momentum took me, soft earth did the rest. I slipped, dug hard and hit the trunk of a tree with a bone-jarring thud. Agony roared through my hip and into my thigh.
I kept on moving, sliding more than lunging, catching the slick grass as she bounded hard, slipping between the gash of a long, brown hedge. I hit the barrier and a twang cut through the air.
The sound raced, shuddering brown links that stretched upwards and divided the mountain. I sucked in a hard breath, feeling the burn down into my belly and pushed against the branches…no…not branches. Cold…cold, like—I searched for the word—metal.
The flash of brown cut between the trees. I probed the…metal…spearing long claws through the middle of each link and leaned in close to sniff. Blood…the brown stuff smelled like blood. I licked the metal. Bits of brown flaked off onto the tip of my tongue.
The fawn darted through, drawing my gaze to the green cabins in the distance. Three…no four. I scoured the trees finding another, old…rotting…the door open, leaves scattered, trees springing out of shattered windows.
My heart thundered and the beast drew backwards, stealing her sight from my eyes, distorting my view for a second before the mountain sharpened. Claws sank back from my nails. Her fur left my skin. Gray bristles glistened as I pressed my fingers against the metal and pushed against the opening.
Bad place… I dragged in the stench as my beast shuddered.
Very bad place.
The sickness carried on the wind, flooding my senses, making me stumble from the metal. A tiny bleat came from within. The fawn turned this way and that, searching for a way out. But she was trapped…trapped inside with the stench and the terror.
The wind at my back turned cold, like the whisper of icy snow on the horizon…coming closer…closer. Taking everything with it, food, warmth, shelter.
Panic grew, tightening my insides. The tiny bleat came once more, and high up on the ridge behind me came the answer from her mother.
I licked my lips, and glanced to the wounded metal. My foot trembled as I stepped through the opening and touched down. The crack of a twig wrenched my gaze left. Not the fawn…I sniffed, drawing the frigid air deeper. The cold sliced through my lungs…rotten, blood. All around me, seeping into the earth and the trees.
But the hunger was brutal, making me weak, making me lower my head. Strands of my hair caught on the metal, tearing from my scalp with a sting. I winced as the edges caught my cheek and my fur.
Leave this place.
I swallowed hard.
Leave now.
White flashed between the buildings covered in moss. The fawn stumbled, slipped…
I pushed through the gap of the metal as the crack came again…only this time inside the cabin. But my focus never moved, watching those long legs, kick and struggle…seeing her fear, her helplessness.
My belly rumbled and the ache gripped my throat. Metal scraped my back as I slid through. The leaves were softer here, thick, untrodden—unsafe. Bright brown cut through the muted green. She danced, following the metal higher, only to skid back down.
Hurry…
Movement came from my left. I wrenched my head toward the building…the sight now gone. The snap came again…this time closer. Darkness blurred in the shadows of the open door. The scrape of a claw danced along my spine, and a shiver followed.
I stilled my steps and scanned the trees as the feeling grew. The fawn scampered, running between one building and the next, before slipping from view.
But I could hear her…tiny hooves pawed, slipped. Thudded hard against something dull, until a snap tore through the air. Screams came, hard, fast, mewls filled with agony and horror.
My pulse boomed, filling my head as the scent of fresh blood slipped through the air. Terrifying bleats came from behind. But her mother couldn’t help her.
Not from the beast in the building, and not from me.
I moved faster, drawn by the sharp, fresh tang that filled my nose. The darkened doorway waited, inviting me to enter. My top lip curled as I watched that darkness, and a growl slipped free. The pungent scent grew stronger; flashes of red stole my focus. Crimson splashed across the leaves…but there was no meat…no food.
I scanned the ground. A trail of tiny drops went farther. She was hurt…slow. I licked my lips, took one last glance at the doorway, and pushed ahead.
The sound of her fear dulled. I shoved ahead, moving around the corner of the building and stopped. Her blood smeared across the trunk of a tree, high off the ground. Too high for her to leap.
The hulking buildings seemed to close in, leaves rustled, wind howled…everything that was once normal…just felt wrong.
I swallowed the scent of fresh blood and looked over my shoulder as a groan came from inside. I knew the sound…it haunted my dreams and filled my panic. Footsteps on floorboards—heavy, slow, and deliberate. I looked to the tree and the cooling blood smeared across the bark.
Hunger fought fear, and my feet moved on their own. I kept my back to the side of the building and slipped around the corner. Bright red filled my view…so close now. I reached out, taking one step up, and then another.
The tips of my fingers slipped in the mess and dropped away. A door swung lazily, widening just a little before it closed with a groan. Darkness beckoned, with the bitter scent of death. The ground seemed to tilt under my feet. I gripped what I could and held on, and for a second I was taken back there…to that night…to those sounds…my mother screaming…my father fighting.
Hide little Ghost! he screamed.
Hide now!
Thick paint flaked from under my fingers. The edges sharp, slicing open my finger, and bright blood welled. The sting was instant. I winced and wrenched my hand against my chest, leaving the nightmare behind.
Fear pushed through, driving the hunger deeper. I stepped back from the open doorway and the floorboards moaned.
Leave. Find more berries, more roots. Warm water can fill me.
I can survive.
The tiny mewl came from within and the scent of blood hit me like a roar.
“Come on. I know you’re hungry.”
I flinched with the deep rumble. A man’s voice. A hunter’s voice.
“Come on…just a little closer.”
Red glistened as it slid into the light from a cracked window. The slab was red, fresh…brimming with warmth…and life. My cheeks stuck to my jaw. Belly loosened, making me tremble. Making me need.
“That’s the way.”
My feet slipped, skimming the entrance as I stepped inside, drops of blood fell from an outstretched hand to splatter against the floor. “That’s the way.”
Overturned tables hugged the wall. Metal. Only this time they shone. Glass crunched under my feet. Agony cut, stealing my focus.
The sting came again, this time in my thigh. Metal prodded, like a claw through my clothes. I swung my hand, fingers skimmed the…metal. The room darkened, swimming before it sharpened.
Another bite. This time in my ches
t. I looked down as the floorboards moaned. The claw was sharp, pointed at one end, red seeped through my shirt.
“Beautiful…you are a pretty little beast, aren’t you?”
Shadows moved, swallowing me as my knee buckled. Hands reached for me, gripping my arms as he moved close. Hard eyes filled my world. He was the danger…and the same sick stench carried me back to all those years ago, to the night they invaded—the night they slaughtered…for they were…
Human.
3
Ace
The black Escalade throbbed as it idled outside Major General Newman Slater’s family home.
I’d been here before, many times. Every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year. Any holiday where family was concerned for the last five years.
My brother’s family, always trying to make up for the fact that I had none.
I’d lingered in the corners, smiled, and raised my glass whenever Alpha looked at me.
He wanted me here…needed me here.
It’d never been out of pity or duty. Only out of love, born from the bond we shared—one I’d searched for my entire life. Brother. Family. We might’ve once worn the green, but this was deeper than any color, and stronger than any creed. When our backs were against the wall we wore red for each other—we sacrificed, we shared…we protected.
I leaned forward as the headlights shone inside the open garage door. “You want me to go in first?”
Alpha flinched and stared straight ahead, and in that moment we were back there. In the goddamn stifling dust-choked air, staring down at an uncleared Iraqi home hoping for the best—but expecting the worst.
I swallowed hard. No one tells you about the smell in Afghanistan, or the rubbish and flies, or the lost souls. The ones left behind…ones who carried mortar or the dead.
“No,” he finally answered and leaned forward. “I’ve got this.”
I reached for the handle and stepped out at the same time. Reflexes took over. Flesh met metal. The patterned grip so familiar, almost as though I’d lived my entire life with a weapon in my hand. I bore down with my thumb, releasing the catch, and drew my Sig Sauer free.
