“Senator?” one of them shouted. “Where are you?”
Aiden pointed his revolver down the stairs. They aimed their rifles back. “Don’t come up here,” he yelled. “I’ll kill the senator.” Maybe his bluff would work better with them.
One of the guards snickered. “If you say so,” he said. The two guards stopped and lowered their weapons.
The door that the senator had disappeared through opened again and he emerged with a politician’s smile and another bottle of whiskey.
Aiden nudged Christine to the floor next to the loft wall. He aimed his revolver at the senator with his right arm outstretched and steadied with his left. He moved to the side and away from the stairwell so his back wouldn’t be exposed to the guards.
“Tell them not to come up here,” he yelled.
The senator did as he was told, but added, “I have things quite in order up here.”
Senator Wooten seemed unconcerned that a gun was pointing at him as he strolled across the room toward the pool table. “Why so nervous?” he asked. “Lower your weapon; I am unarmed.”
Christine said, “Senator? I’m sorry for this. If you just let us leave—”
Before she finished, the senator shook his head. “Nonsense,” he said. “What is your name again, young lady?”
“Don’t answer him,” Aiden snapped.
She hesitated and then answered anyway. “Christine.”
“Come back over here and have a seat. We can discuss this werewolf situation.”
Aiden tightened his jaw, but didn’t move his body. Christine stayed by his side. He surveyed the room in search of an escape or another threat. There was a door within reach next to the stairway, but if it was a bathroom or a closet there would be no way out. They would be trapped.
At least two more guards appeared outside the sliding doors at the back of the room.
Aiden whispered, “This isn’t going to end well.”
25
SURPRISE
THE senator took another swig of whiskey, smiled, and dropped his robe, exposing himself. Christine looked away.
Aiden whispered, “When I move, stay behind me.”
She nodded, keeping her eyes locked on the guards at the sliding doors. “What’s he doing?” she asked.
Aiden didn’t answer.
The senator rubbed his chest. His head snapped backward with a loud crack. Christine gasped. Aiden cursed beneath his breath. How could he have been so blind?
Senator Wooten’s ribs jutted outward. His already hairy chest sprouted an even thicker coat of grayish hair until his flesh was hidden beneath.
Aiden whispered, “Can you change?”
Christine didn’t answer.
“Can you change?” he shouted.
She shook her head. “I don’t know ho—”
“You either figure it out, like right now, or we gotta get the hell out of here.”
The sliding door from the deck slid open, and the guards stepped into the room. Aiden turned to the stairs. “Christine!”
She stared at Senator Wooten as his nose and mouth stretched away from his face. The guards in the foyer grabbed their weapons and aimed up the stairs.
Aiden yanked her arm, breaking her trance. The senator roared and she swore she heard laughter in his howl.
“Don’t move!” one of the guards from behind shouted. Aiden spun toward them, gun raised. The door at his side squeaked and started to open. Aiden kicked it the rest of the way. A woman shrieked from within. The guards came forward. Aiden grabbed the half-naked redhead by her hair and yanked her into the open.
The guards froze. Aiden pulled her against his chest with his gun pressed against her cheek. She kicked and scratched at his arm, but he squeezed tighter. “I’ll kill you,” he whispered, although he knew he wouldn’t. He must have been convincing because she stopped struggling.
The guards from the front door backed away from the stairs and into the foyer. One of the two guards from the sliding doors shouted, “Nobody move. He’s got Helena.” His tone softened when he said, “Relax, mister. No one needs to get hurt here.”
Aiden moved aside with his hostage in tow. “Come on, Christine,” he said, allowing her to slip past. He backed down the stairs with her at his hip and his hostage held against his chest. Senator Wooten roared again, now fully transformed into a massive beast.
Aiden didn’t like his chances against such an obviously seasoned werg and prayed his hostage would be enough of a deterrent for their escape.
As Aiden, Christine, and the redhead reached the bottom of the stairs, Senator Wooten soared over the loft wall and landed on the staircase midway between Aiden and the top. He growled and glared.
“Drop your guns or I’ll blow her head off,” Aiden screamed, hoping to continue selling his bluff.
The guards lowered their weapons.
“Now get on your knees against the wall.”
They reluctantly did.
Christine retrieved their rifles. Before she could get back to Aiden, Senator Wooten pounced. Aiden spun the redhead away and fired all six shots into Wooten’s chest. The senator yelped. Aiden slid from his path and the senator crashed against the hardwood floor beside the staircase. Aiden dropped his empty revolver. Christine threw one of the rifles to him and then bolted for the door.
The guards rose slowly, defiantly, from the floor, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He spun with his weapon pointed, sending them back to their knees. Senator Wooten scrambled to all fours.
Aiden retreated through the front door, unleashing an ear-ringing barrage of bullets into the pursuing werewolf. The senator howled and cowered from the bullets as they ripped through his flesh.
From the porch, Aiden continued firing at the door until his weapon clicked, empty. He hurled the gun to the sidewalk. Christine was waiting and tossed him the other gun. He shouted, “Go to the woods,” and pointed toward the way he had come.
“Do you think you killed him?” she cried.
“No.”
The driveway and main courtyard filled with ten more armed men racing toward the house. Aiden recognized several of the men as WereHouse employees and his heart sank. Christine ran for the tree line. Aiden unleashed another burst of thunder from his weapon, aiming above the guards’ heads. Some of the men took cover behind the stone statue in the fountain.
Christine stopped just before the trees; Aiden was on her heels.
The Swiss-cheesed front door of the house exploded from its hinges. The senator staggered out, panted heavily, and then collapsed against a porch post. Blood poured from his chest and arms. He slid down the white post, staining it red.
Aiden pulled the trigger again. The weapon clicked. He tossed the useless gun to the ground and chased Christine into the woods.
She briefly slowed to glance back at him. “Go, go, go,” he yelled, waving her on. “I’ll catch up.” A hail of gunfire exploded from around the fountain. The bullets whizzed past his head as he entered the forest.
Once within the cover of the trees, she shouted, “Which way?”
More bullets plowed into the tree bark around them. As he caught up with her, he shoved her behind a tree.
From his pocket he removed a small device that resembled a keyless entry remote and pressed the button. A distant pop rang out, followed by a bright green glow beyond some trees.
“Christine,” he shouted above the gunfire.
“I see it,” she answered.
“Keep going. I’m right behind you.”
She stumbled, but kept her footing. Aiden kept one eye on her and one eye on their trail. They ran toward the green glow.
Once at the glowing tree, he grabbed the green flare and plunged it into a knot in the trunk, snuffing its glow. He snatched his duffel bag with one hand and Christine’s arm with the other. “Are you alright? Have you been hit?”
She shook her head.
“Can you go on?”
While catching her wind, she nodded.
Sharp whispers fro
m all around told him how close the guards were getting.
“Get down,” he whispered and knelt beside her.
He reached into his duffel bag and removed two pistols.
“I don’t want to do this, but it is them or us.”
“I understand,” she whispered.
The voices closed in. He slid back the slide of one pistol, cringing at the audible click. Then he did the same with the other weapon. He knew they wouldn’t escape without a fight.
He gave Christine a reassuring smile.
A guard stumbled into sight between two trees, but didn’t spot them. Aiden aimed his pistol. He didn’t want to shoot the guard, but he wasn’t going to let those bastards have Christine. He was determined to damn his soul before he would let her be harmed. The guard’s flashlight beam bounced from tree to tree, growing closer with every second. Aiden tightened his finger on the trigger. The flashlight beam struck the tree at Christine’s side.
Aiden took a deep breath. A distant voice shouted, “Franklin,” and the guard spun back toward the house. Aiden relaxed his finger. Christine breathed again.
The hidden voice shouted, “Get the hell outta here. They’re sending the savages.”
Aiden’s heart sank.
The guard turned and raced through the woods back the way he had come.
“Savages?” Christine asked.
Aiden shoved his guns into his waistband. He removed a harness from the bag and slung it over his neck and beneath his arm. “Henderson’s pack of killer wergs,” he answered. “He uses them to hunt other wergs that he deems too dangerous for my team. Wooten must have access to them.”
A howl sounding more like a siren than an animal rang out from the direction of the house. More howls joined in a chorus. How did they get here so fast?
“They’ve found us,” he whispered. He saw fear on Christine’s face, but didn’t have time to comfort her.
“My God,” she said. “How many are there?”
“Twelve. The company has arrived,” he said without softening his words. Aiden reached into his backpack and retrieved his last surprise—his trusted AK-47.
“We’re going to die,” she mumbled.
He removed a flash grenade. He wished he could argue.
“What are we going to do?” Christine cried.
Aiden nudged her shoulder, pushing her behind him. He felt her breath on his neck. He didn’t look back when he said, “You need to change into a werg. It’s your only chance.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Are you scared?”
“Yes.”
“Turn that into anger. Think about the ones you love. Think about how this company wants to take you from them.”
Christine squeezed her eyelids shut.
Aiden whispered into her ear, “If you change, don’t look at the flash from my grenade. Wergs hate bright light. It disorients them. After the explosion, make a run for it. They’ll be at their most disoriented then. Don’t stop until you are safe.”
“What about you?”
He turned toward her. He knew that both of them wouldn’t survive. He forced a half-hearted grin. He said, “I’ll be fine. I do this for a living, remember?” Then he winked and looked away.
The stink of the approaching wergs was heavy in the air. He looked back to her. She closed her eyes again. Her nose began to bleed. He was proud of her. She snorted and twitched. “You’re doing it,” he whispered. “They’re going to kill your family.” He waited for a second and then added, “They are going to kill me.”
Christine’s eyes bulged open as she roared like a bloodthirsty tigress. The bones in her spine snapped and crackled. Her pupils went red like blood. Her mouth and nose deformed and elongated into a snout. Fur sprouted from her forehead and cheeks. She moaned and writhed in pain. Her neck jerked to one side and then the other.
Aiden turned back to the forest. The sounds of shattering tree limbs echoed from the woods in all directions, coming closer with each passing second. This was his final stand. His adult life had been about death, yet this beautiful woman saw something more in him. She saw the good he always felt was there. He believed he could redeem himself of the horrible crimes he had unwittingly committed if only he could save her. The moaning stopped. He smiled. She had a chance now. Her grunts moved closer until he felt hot breath on his back.
He pulled the pin from his grenade. She caressed his cheek with a gentleness he hadn’t felt from a werg since Rufus.
Everything went quiet.
The first savage shot from between the trees. Another one appeared ten feet from his side with a blood-thirsty growl.
Aiden yelled, “Now!” He heaved his grenade toward the rushing beasts. With his arm shielding his eyes, he turned his head. “Look away, Christine,” he shouted. She did. He shoved his hand over her eyes just in case. The grenade exploded with painful din. Yelps from straight ahead let him know he hit his mark.
“Run!” he shouted as he pulled his hand from Christine’s eyes. The savages stumbled, blind and confused. He knew how the savages hunted and that they preferred to surround their prey. “Between those two,” he cried.
Christine dropped to all fours, snorted, and leaped toward the gap between the disoriented beasts. Still blinded, but no less deadly, they caught her scent and swiped their claws at the air as she passed.
Tree branches snapped behind Aiden. He spun in slow circles, his rifle extended from his side. “Come on, savages. Do your worst.” His rapid breathing reminded him of his earliest days as a werg hunter. At first he told himself to calm down, but then decided his adrenaline rush would help him stay sharp. One more glance toward where Christine had fled revealed she had gotten a good start. He only needed to stay alive long enough for her to make ground between them. That was her only chance.
The savages stalked him in slow, cautious steps as if aware they weren’t the only predators in the woods today. He counted all twelve surrounding him and smiled. “Bring it,” he muttered, ready for battle.
One of the wergs dropped his head back and howled. The others followed suit until the noise was deafening. He ignored the pain in his eardrums; it wasn’t his hearing that needed to be sharp.
As the pack finished their celebration of a successful hunt, Aiden squeezed his trigger. The pain in his ears died and was replaced by the beautiful rat-tat-tat from his assault rifle. He spun in a circle as bullet after wonderful bullet tore into his enemies’ flesh. Tree bark splintered and exploded from the trees.
The creatures roared as chunks of flesh ripped from their bodies and their blood sprayed the trees. The air filled with the sound of sizzling meat as silver met skin. Two wergs dropped when the bullets struck their hearts. They quivered on the ground in instant and deadly anaphylaxis. Without hesitation, their brethren attacked.
The flashes of light and bursts of thunder from Aiden’s weapon ended, yet he continued squeezing his trigger until his knuckles turned white. A werg leaped from six feet away. Aiden heaved his empty AK at the pouncing werg before diving for his duffel bag. The werg swatted the rifle away and landed at Aiden’s side. Aiden retrieved his last flash grenade from his bag.
Another werg pounced. Aiden pulled the pin and dropped the grenade. The werg swung his deadly claw. Aiden rolled to his side with his wrists pressed against his ears. White-hot pain exploded from his left thigh as the beast’s claw tore his flesh. Even through his arms, his eardrums popped from the concussion of his grenade. Heat from the blast seared his back through his clothing.
He opened his eyes. The world slowed around him. The disoriented wergs, all ten of them, staggered and stumbled, trying to regain his scent.
Aiden accepted his impending death; he just wasn’t going to make it easy. He withdrew his silver-bladed knife from its sheath.
His back throbbed. His leg ached with each pulsating pump of arterial blood from his femoral artery. He pressed his left hand against the wound, but the blood continued flowing through his fingers. A sudden
rush of weakness washed over him. It was a fatal blow—there was no doubt. It wouldn’t be long now.
One of the savages caught his scent and staggered toward him. He heaved his blade upward into the beast’s gut, piercing its heart. The creature yelped like a dog that had been kicked. Aiden withdrew his blade. The werg retreated before dropping to the ground.
Another werg snorted from behind. They had gotten too close, too quickly. Aiden tried to turn, but the creature’s claw raked down his back. He bit his lower lip so the monsters wouldn’t have the satisfaction of hearing his cries.
He dropped to his knees next to the werg he had just killed. Though his ears rang from the flash grenade’s concussion, he still heard his attackers’ excited grunts. They were regaining their senses; he was losing his.
A third savage rose up on his back legs in front of Aiden. This was it—the killing blow. Aiden spun his knife in his hand so the blade was directed downward and he drew it back over his shoulder. Yet another werg stalked from behind. They were brilliant hunters, of that there was no doubt. Aiden took a deep, final breath, white-knuckled the hilt of his knife, and forced a crazy grin.
The werg before him crouched, his thigh muscles flexed.
Goodbye, world.
Instead of attacking, the creature’s ears perked and he sniffed the air. The others mimicked him. Aiden backed against a tree as the savages refocused, facing the opposite way. The blood poured from his leg, but he no longer had any strength to care. He leaned against the tree and slid to his rear. His eyes blurred.
The savages had no more interest in him, preoccupied with a new scent.
Aiden reached for his duffel bag. He pulled it from the brush and used his knife to cut away one of the shoulder straps. He wrapped the strap around his thigh just below his groin and cinched it tight with a wince. The flow of blood slowed, but didn’t stop. He shoved the hilt of his knife against the knot, wrapped the strap around it, and twisted over and over until the pain became unbearable and the bleeding slowed further. He held the blade against his leg while he waited for the savages to return for their kill.
But they didn’t return. Instead, another, smaller werg burst from the trees and slammed against one of the savages, knocking him to the ground.
Tamed Page 14
