by Lynde Lakes
With those words still echoing in her head, she approached the walled barrio. Over the top of the arch someone had painted the words in blood-red graffiti: Death to all outsiders.
Sweating, she took a deep breath and drove under the arch and proceeded through the area slowly. On a corner stood a gang of tattooed thugs wearing red headbands, chains draped down their left sides and icy, low-lidded gazes. They shouted obscenities and described in sordid detail what they planned to do to her for entering their domain. Everything in her wanted to turn around, lay some rubber, and hightail it out of there. Only the sound of Kindra’s terrified wails replaying in her head urged her to continue the search for the correct address. She found it among a string of condemned boarded up houses and passed it by. She noted that someone had cut the lock on the front door. Coming here alone was stupid enough, but parking in front of the place and entering through the front door would be committing suicide. Still, she couldn’t park too far away. She might need the car in a hurry.
She stopped in front of one of the three still occupied houses, walked briskly to the door and knocked. She wanted someone in the area to know her plans to enter the condemned house. The TV was blaring and she saw shadows moving about inside, but no one would come to the door. She knocked harder.
She glanced nervously up the street. The tattooed thugs sauntered toward her, cussing and shouting threats. She didn’t have time to deal with them. She had to get Kindra out of this barrio of terror. The tension within Valerie mounted. She felt her body changing…felt her incisors sharpening…felt her sense of a ticking time-bomb escalating… This shifting couldn’t be happening. She’d never had morphing symptoms in broad daylight before. Right now she didn’t know if it was a curse or a blessing. Her hair grew longer, wilder, her nails lengthened into daggers. She felt strong, invincible…and yet scared as hell. A child’s life was in her hands.
The thugs speeded their gait. She ran to the car and grabbed the crowbar and her flashlight. She headed, with animal speed, through the dying, straw-like nearly bare yards to the rear of the house and then leapt walls and fences with ease to get to the rear of the condemned house.
At the back of the structure, she pried off a long plank of plywood as quietly as possible, jabbed a hole in the stucco, and then crawled through it into the darkened quarters, ready to slay any dragon or wolf that got in her way.
Odors of Mexican cooking, mildew, and foul plumbing of the aging stucco dwelling hit her. The stench had been absorbed permanently into the walls and was destined to remain with the place until it was destroyed. She forced herself to ignore the foul air. Staying close to the wall, she eased along, alert to the muted sobs mingled with eerie silence. A faint glow flickered just ahead. An oil lamp? Candles?
Her heart pounded. She was racing a deadly, invisible clock that ticked off the seconds faster than a blink of an eye. She was so intent on her plan to find Kindra, face the consequences, and then get out, that she wasn’t sure if she really heard someone or something slip into the house behind her.
Suddenly at the front of the house she heard chains scraping across the front porch and then the entry door creaked open. “Eh, Blondie,” one of the thugs shouted. “You in here? Is this where you want it, Bitch?”
She froze. But it wasn’t the thugs that sent chills through her blood anymore. One look at her feral countenance and sharp incisors and they’d most likely run out screaming. She was terrified at another more deadly evil. She sensed it nearby, waiting for her to show herself. Was the throat-eating werewolf just ahead? Just around the next corner? In the attic? The feral scent surrounded her, wrapping its tentacles tightly, making it difficult to breathe.
When she stepped into the hallway with her sharpened eye-sight and the help of the flickering glow, she saw Kindra in a chair beneath a small open door to the attic, hands tied behind her back and mouth gagged. Valerie turned on the flashlight so she could see the child better. Kindra’s dark, widened eyes revealed terror.
Valerie knew in her half-morphed form, she looked wild and nothing like the compassionate friend that Kindra trusted. “Honey, don’t be afraid. It’s me, Miss Valerie. I’m here to save you.”
Kindra recoiled as far as her imprisoned condition allowed, then lifted her head and looked up at the open entry door above her.
Was the evil wolf hiding up there? Whatever action she took, it had to be quick. There was no time to untie the child.
Behind her she sensed more than heard footsteps. She smelled the feral scent. She wanted to scream out, where the hell are you, but silence gave her an edge. She breathed in to gather courage. Keep your mind on the goal. Don’t let fear side-track you. Grab Kindra, chair and all, and get the hell out.
The instant she grabbed for Kindra and the chair, a heavy mesh net fell over both of them. It tightened, imprisoning them. She put the chair and child down then bit and clawed at their unyielding mesh. With her sheer she-wolf strength, she ripped. The mesh gave a little, but not enough. From above a chloroform ball dropped into the mesh, then a blanket came down and covered the mesh, trapping the fumes around them like a cloak. Coughing and fighting the sensation of choking, she tore a hole in the blanket, grabbed up the chloroform ball, and tossed it out through the hole. Next, she yanked the gag off Kindra’s mouth and tore a second patch in the blanket so the child could breathe fresh air. Kindra coughed and cried uncontrollably. Valerie tore a third hole, so she could breathe. She’d be no good to the child if she passed out.
She heard a growl above and felt the weight of the werewolf as he dropped down on them, like a two-hundred pound sack of manure.
Still choking, she tried to buck him off, but he was too heavy. Then the weight of him disappeared, as though yanked away.
She heard the angry growling of more than one wolf. She grabbed the bottom of the blanket and jerked it off. She flashed the light on the circling werewolves, one black and the other silvery-gray, lips curled, incisors bared and growling. The silvery wolf was Brian! The glow from the flashlight highlighted her alpha werewolf’s gray coat and startling, bold markings. Her heartbeat quickened. So many emotions rushed through her she didn’t have time to sort them out. Her job was to get Kindra to safety. She ripped and chewed frantically at the mesh while keeping an eye on the battling man-wolves. Brian crouched low and issued a throaty growl. His eyes glowed like hot coals. The evil wolf lunged for Brian’s throat. She gasped. Brian dodged, and then counter attacked. With a riveting sense of rising panic, she tore a hole in the mesh large enough to crawl through. She untied Kindra and left the chair behind.
Fully engaged by Brian, the threatening wolf curled his lips, his gleaming incisors bared and leapt at Brian again. How could she leave her dear alpha wolf while he was under such vicious attack? Brian thrashed about to stop the crazed man-wolf from closing his jaws on his throat. God, protect Brian. And give me the courage to trust him to save himself. My first obligation is this child.
Brian would want her to save the child—yet, leaving him alone to fight this evil monster seemed impossible.
She shoved the loudly sobbing Kindra into a bedroom. “Don’t move!”
While Brian fought the wolf, muzzle to muzzle and blocked bite for bite, she jumped up on the muscled werewolf’s back and dug her incisors into his neck near the other recent bites. The deafening rumble of the three of them growling echoed through the empty condemned house. The big wolf thrust himself against a wall and knocked her off his back. Terrified yet determined to save her alpha rescuer, she watched for a chance to get back into the action.
Their werewolf faces weren’t clearly identifiable but she’d know Brian anywhere.
Both hairy, muscular wolves stood upright and slightly bent, leaning forward like arm-dangling apes. Her alpha wolf held his arms a foot away from his hairy body, feet somewhat apart. Although he was the smaller, leaner werewolf of the two, the span of his shoulders appeared at least an inch wider.
He crouched into a karate stance, his beauti
ful muscles flexed in readiness for battle. The bigger werewolf went into a less agile crouch. There wasn’t enough width in the hallway for whirls, so they stuck with kicks and thrusts. She watched for a window of opportunity to help. Her alpha werewolf moved smoothly and effectively while looking confident. She struggled to find an equal confidence that he could win without help, but she feared he was above killing and his attacker lived to kill. The shadows on the wall reflected the fierceness of the battle. The air was acrid with the smell blood. She leapt onto the black wolf’s back again. He shook her off onto the hard floor then fixed his piercing gaze on her. He leapt and tried to close his incisors on her throat. She dodged and rolled out of his reach. Brian used the distraction to attack again. He went for the throat. The evil wolf twisted and Brian bit into his shoulder. Blood gushed out. For an instant, he glared at Brian and then ran toward the living room. They heard the door being ripped from its hinges and then the house went silent except for Kindra’s sobbing.
Brian was bleeding, but alive. Thank God.
Before she had a chance to sigh in relief, she heard screeching tires. She ran to the window. “Brian, it’s the police! They can’t see us like this.”
“Quick! Out the back before they can surround the place.”
Brian opened the bedroom door where Kindra waited, sobbing and terrified. He bent, whispered something to the child. She stopped crying, then he gently kissed her forehead and lifted her into his arms. Valerie crawled through the hole at the back of the house first and then Brian handed the child out to her. Once clear of the hole they ran with animal speed for the foundation’s station wagon parked down the street. As they eased away from the curb and drove through the barrio, she looked in the rearview mirror and then scanned the streets. There wasn’t a neighborhood hoodlum in sight. Apparently, even tough guys were intimidated by growling wolves and wanted to avoid an encounter with the police almost as much as they did.
Chapter Eleven
Valerie felt pulled in a myriad of directions. Brian’s blood streamed from his cuts and gouges, and he was trying to stem the flow with his hands. She glanced back at the shivering little girl sitting with her legs drawn up and bent into an almost a fetal position. When the three of them rushed to the car, she hadn’t had time to check on the child until now. The poor kid had gone from hysteria to abnormally quiet and must have a mountain of questions. “Kindra, Sweetheart, please toss Brian that towel from the storage area. The towel flew from the backseat like a missile. “Thanks. And, Honey, put your seat belt on.”
Once Valerie had driven under the barrio’s arch and left the walled community with mostly boarded up condemned homes, she started breathing normally again. Too bad Kindra had seen them in their half-morphed state. How would she keep the little sweetheart from telling everyone that they were werewolves? If she kept at the forefront of her mind the fact that they’d saved Kindra, she’d be more equipped to handle the resulting trouble.
If the police spotted the station wagon leaving the barrio, or if someone turned them in for being in the area at the time of the break-in of boarded up condemned property they’d be in deep quicksand.
Valerie turned onto Foothill Boulevard, barely aware of the strip malls dotted along the road. Her mind remained intent on her driving and their narrow escape from the law. She hadn’t gone far when she heard the wail of police sirens behind them. Oh, damn, damn, damn. For and instant, a crazy thought raced through her mind. Should she make a run for it? What was she thinking? She had a child in the car. Besides, the wagon had the foundation’s name emblazoned all over it.
“Brian, I have to stop. Try to count backwards and reverse the morphing.”
“That’s never worked for me.”
“Just do it!”
She pulled over, counting backwards like crazy. Nothing happened. Her body froze, waiting for the inescapable fist of the law to come down on them.
The police sped by as though they were invisible. Valerie put her head on the steering wheel, her whole body trembling, and began to weep and laugh, giving in to the most profound relief she’d ever felt.
“Don’t cry, Miss Valerie,” Kindra said. “Brian says that God wants us to be brave and everything will turn out okay.”
Valerie glanced over at Brian. “I wondered what you’d told her to stop her hysteria.”
“We aren’t out of the woods yet.”
“I know and we can’t go back to the office like this,” she said, pulling out her cell phone before gearing the car in motion again.
Valerie quickly checked in with her secretary. “Any news about Kindra’s mother and brother,” she asked softly.
“The mother was dead when the police got there,” Geri said. “The baby is in bad shape but will make it.”
After hearing the sad details about the mother, Valerie decided to wait until the next day to lay the distressing news on a child who’d already had a hellish morning. “Geri, we won’t be back to the office for the rest of the day. If something crucial comes up, call me at home.”
She hung up, pulled back into the lane of traffic, and glanced at Brian. He was bleeding from the cuts and bites on his torso. “You have a lot of surface bites and claw gouges. But the hospital is out of the question in our present half-morphed conditions. But luckily, I’m a pretty good nurse.”
She headed up MT Baldy Highway to the mansion.
“Sorry about messing up the foundation’s new car,” he said in a pained voice. “But I’ll detail it as good as new tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She forced a lightness into her tone. “You had an advantage with that evil wolf. He underestimated you.”
“Apparently, so did you.” The inflection of his tone carried some bitterness. “Why didn’t you get out of there?”
“You’re welcome for the help,” she muttered.
“Thank you,” he said in a defiant tone. “But who saved who?”
He was right. She should be thanking him. Valerie glanced at his pain-etched profile. Even in pain his features were strong, handsome, and very alpha. “Where did you learn your eclectic fighting style?”
“It’s a combination of many lessons by top men in the field of combat. One of my teachers was an ex-marine, another was a navy seal. They taught me the quick kill tactic, but I don’t think I could ever finish off a man, even to save my life.”
“What about to save a child? Or me?”
He moaned in pain. “I was there wasn’t I?”
“I wasn’t asking about your courage. It’s clear that you’re one of the bravest men I know. I was talking about using the killer instinct when absolutely necessary.”
“Let’s just say, I’d try my darnedest to find another way to defeat my attacker.”
“But if we don’t find a permanent solution, Dad says he’ll just keep coming back. And Uncle Hugh said that Reeves seems to be gathering knowledge and the experiences of each body he morphs into. If that turns out to be true, it’ll be like having three brainy people in one after us. Next time, that combination of minds and experiences will have a new ploy in mind and it’s bound to be more deadly. Maybe something he can do at a distance. I believe our goal now should be to identify the killer and, before he can hurt us, someone at the foundation or my family, we must take him out. Permanently.”
“How did I manage to fall in love with such a ferocious female?”
She winced. “Killing, even an arch enemy, is a moral dilemma for me as well. But— You’re in love with me?”
“Like I said, I’m here, aren’t I? And how do you propose to kill the walking dead that an evil force keeps resurrecting?”
She touched the cross Brian had placed around her neck. “I don’t have all the answers, yet.”
“Well, neither do I. And maybe there isn’t an answer.” He groaned, closed his eyes, and rested his head against the window. “Do you have any painkillers at home? And could we not talk anymore now?”
Her heart went out to him and she patt
ed his thigh. He was right again. She glanced in the rear view mirror at Kindra. They shouldn’t be talking like this with little ears listening. The child had been so quiet she’d almost forgotten about her.
****
Valerie drove up the long tree-lined lane to the mansion, wondering what her parents would say about her and Brian’s wild daylight morphing. It didn’t matter. By the time she turned into the circular, brick lined driveway, they were totally morphed into their human forms.
She glanced over at Brian resting his head against the window with his eyes closed. “Are you awake?” He was still bleeding. “Lets go in the back entrance.”
They slipped in the back door. She carried Kindra who, still trembling, sucked her thumb like a much younger child. The tramatized girl would need special couciling and therapy to help her with the aftermath of the harrowing experience. In order to keep Kindra from exposing their werewolf tendencies and although, not the expert Kindra needed, she’d have to play therpist until she could arrange to turn her over to the proper authorities. She’d learn whatever needed to bring the child back to good mental health. She had some experience with trauma. She knew what she went through after she was kidnapped as a child. And of course the psychology courses she’d taken in college would help. The rest she could get from books written by experts and instinct. The police would be looking for the missing girl and then child protective services would get into the mix. But for now, she had to keep Kindra close as long as possible and then follow her care once forced to release her to the authorities.
She paused in the kitchen. Kyle was nowhere in sight but a pot of stew simmered on the stove, filling the kitchen with wonderful aromas of meat and vegetables. She heard symphony music coming from upstairs. Her parents must be up there. Probably doing what she’d like to do with Brian.
She paused and studied Brian. His eyes looked clear. “If you’ll be okay for about ten minutes, I’ll take care of Kindra first. I think I’ll need more time to fix you up.”
