Kill Switch (Rune Alexander Book 9)

by Laken Cane

  Kill Switch

  By Laken Cane

  Copyright © 2016 Laken Cane

  All rights reserved.

  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, association with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. Ebook copies may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share with a friend, please buy an extra copy, and thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  For more information about the author, you can find her online at

  www.lakencane.com,

  www.facebook.com/laken.cane.3,

  www.twitter.com/lakencane,

  www.amazon.com/author/lakencane

  Dedications

  I dedicate this book to those who enjoy the cliffhangers. When there are no more cliffhangers, the story is done.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Part Two

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Part Three

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  About Laken Cane

  Prologue

  “Kill you,” the human panted, “I’m a’kill you.” He lifted his gun.

  Rune laughed and jogged toward him. She knocked the gun from his hand, then wrapped her fingers around his scrawny neck. “Liar.”

  She snapped his neck and threw him into the growing pile of humans littering the ground, then immediately turned to dropkick a man who was milliseconds away from blasting Raze into oblivion.

  “Rune,” Jack yelled.

  She dropped instantly. Crouching, she turned to slice her claws through the legs of the woman whose shotgun had been in the perfect position to make Rune’s participation in the battle a little less enthusiastic.

  “Fucking guns,” Levi yelled, and lifted his own shotgun to relieve a man of his right arm. Maybe the man would live, maybe he wouldn’t.

  But he was one less human in the teeming mass of idiot humans who’d decided a firefight with Shiv Crew would be a good idea.

  Only two members of Shiv Crew were without guns—Rune and Roma.

  Roma’s slingshot was deadlier than any gun—honestly, it seemed to have grown in power over the previous months—and Rune…

  Rune had her fangs, and she had her claws.

  A gun would only have gotten in her way.

  A few of the humans could actually fight, but they were smart enough to know in a fistfight, the crew would have taken them out in seconds.

  So they brought their guns.

  Shiv Crew rarely fought Others. The Others weren’t the problem. The rotting disease had nearly wiped them out and the world had changed for them. Drastically. No, the problem wasn’t the Others.

  The problem was the humans—humans who hated, hunted, and killed the Others who remained.

  The crew had stopped going out in public without their protective vests, because guns were everywhere and the world had gone crazy. Even Rune wore her vest—not because she was afraid the humans would splinter her with obsidian, but because dozens of bullets could put her out of commission long enough for her crew to be damaged.

  Or killed.

  And she wasn’t going to let that happen.

  She whirled and nearly decapitated a gun-toting woman not much taller than she was, then whipped back around to end the man who’d used the stock of his shotgun to clobber her over the head.

  For an instant, he looked surprised that smashing her skull hadn’t dropped her.

  She curled her lip.

  As fucking if.

  Her cell phone rang. She kept it on and in her pocket every second she was away from the Annex hospital.

  “Shit,” she yelled, when a bullet ripped through her upper arm. “Motherfucker!” She used the back of her hand to hit the button on her earpiece. “Hello?”

  Then she raced toward the asshole who’d shot her, who, as she started toward him, was readying his gun for a second try.

  “Hi, Rune, this is Leslie.”

  Leslie was one of the baby’s nurses, and she called Rune often with updates—especially when Rune was in the field and hadn’t visited the Annex for a day or so.

  “The baby okay?” Rune kicked the gun out of the man’s grip, breaking his fingers in the process. He screamed and turned to run, but Rune drove her claws through his back before he’d gotten two steps.

  “You’re busy?” Leslie asked. Her voice was calm—and it wouldn’t have been calm had something been wrong with the child.

  Rune grabbed two men who were close enough and slammed them into each other so hard the resulting sound from their skulls connecting sounded like the world cracking. “Nah, dude. Just getting in some stress relief.”

  “Oh,” Leslie exclaimed. “That’s nice. Like yoga?”

  “Yeah. Like that.” She turned just in time to have a blade dissect the left side of her face and forehead, and for an instant, blood, hot and thick, obscured her vision.

  She ran her claws through her attacker’s heart, then, without missing a beat, used all the speed she had—which was a hell of a lot of speed—to take out the three men who’d cornered Levi.

  “Die, you gutless sonsofbitches,” she screamed.

  “Um,” Leslie said. “That’s some crazy yoga. I’ll call back.”

  “Talk, Leslie.”

  “All right. The baby is ready to go home. She’ll be released at eight tomorrow morning. Are you ready to take her?” There was a smile in her voice.

  Rune’s stomach tightened and immediate anxiety clouded her brain. “Shit,” she whispered.

  “Rune?”

  “I’ll be there.” She hit the button to end the call, then threw herself back into the fight.

  The battle wasn’t scary.

  Bringing home the baby…

  That was scary.

  But the kid had been in the Annex lab for five months, the hospital for three weeks, and it was time to take her home.

  She was ready.

  Rune, though…she wasn’t.

  She was terrified.

  She was a mother.

  Part One

  BATTERED

  Chapter One

  “Can you believe it’s been a fucking year?”

  “Rune, you have to start watching your language,” Ellis reminded her. “You can’t say…” he glanced at the baby sitting in the middle of the living room floor. “F.U.C.K.”


  Rune lifted an eyebrow. “Her overhearing swear words is the least of my worries, Ellie.”

  Levi grinned and blew up another balloon. “How long until people start showing up?”

  Rune crossed her arms and scowled. “Any damn time now.”

  Ellis lifted his chin and stared her down. “Having regular people around is important, as is having children at her parties.”

  Rune heaved a loud sigh.

  Ellis tsk tsk’d and went to straighten the baby’s outfit—a pink, frilly dress with polka dot leggings and tiny pink sandals. He’d braided her thick black hair, hair that waved gently against porcelain skin and was already halfway down her back.

  She was a mini Rune.

  Ellis had dressed her after deeming Rune unfit for the duty. Rune had quite agreed at the time, but in her opinion, the precious clothes Ellis bought for the kid were much worse than the tiny badass outfits she’d ordered online.

  “She can’t wear clothes with spikes and skulls,” Ellis had declared. “She’s an infant. She needs flowers and lace.”

  Rune had let him have his way. When the baby was old enough to make her own decisions, Rune was sure she was going to want something besides frilly dresses and floppy bonnets.

  But she wasn’t worried about clothes, not really. Her job was keeping the kid safe. Her monster had yet to peek from her huge blue eyes, but it was only a matter of time.

  Ellie could plan parties and buy dresses all day long, if he wanted.

  The doorbell rang.

  The baby looked up, then climbed to her feet with a slow sort of wobbly laboriousness that made Rune want to stride over and pluck her from the floor.

  “Who there,” she said, and tottered toward the front door. “Door.”

  “Yes,” Ellis said, following along behind her. “Door!” He threw a pleased look back over his shoulder at Rune. “She is the smartest child I’ve ever known.”

  “And the prettiest,” Denim said, walking into the living room.

  Ellis glanced at him, then did a double take. “Denim, not the cake. That was for the party!”

  “It’s still in there,” Denim said, taking another bite. “I just cut a small slice.”

  Ellis sighed and continued to herd his charge toward the door. “Party party,” he said, his voice high and squeaky enough to hurt Rune’s ears. “Who’s ready for a wunnerful widdle party?”

  Rune didn’t understand that baby talk shit. She shook her head and pinched off a piece of Denim’s cake.

  Before Ellis could open the door, Roma jogged around the corner of the hallway. “Stop,” she cried.

  Ellis put a hand to his heart. “What’s wrong?”

  “You don’t just yank open a door, Ellis,” Roma said, pushing herself between Ellis and the door. “How many times do I have to tell you? Could be anybody out there.”

  “It’s the middle of the day,” he said, “and the only people out there are friends bringing their children to a baby’s first birthday party.”

  But he was wrong.

  Roma opened the door a crack, her slingshot firmly in her hand. “Who are you?”

  “I need to speak with Rune Alexander.” The voice cracked, then continued. “Please.”

  Rune straightened slowly at the unfamiliar female voice. A voice that tried to be soft and unthreatening, but practically screamed desperation and fear.

  Eyes narrowed, she strode toward the front door. “Ellie, get the kid out of here.”

  Ellis didn’t hesitate. He snatched the baby off the floor and ran from the room. Levi and Denim fell in beside Rune as she walked toward the door.

  When Rune reached her, Roma pulled the door open further and slipped out onto the porch. “I’m going to pat you down,” she said. “You won’t have a problem with that.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Rune leaned against the doorframe to watch.

  The stranger was a girl, maybe sixteen, seventeen years old, with short black hair, smooth black skin, and scared brown eyes. Her hands shook when she held her arms out to allow Roma to check her for weapons, and she didn’t meet Rune’s stare. Not once.

  “She’s clean,” Roma said, and took up a position behind their visitor.

  The girl swallowed loudly enough for Rune to hear the click in her throat. “I need your help,” she murmured.

  “Look at me,” Rune said.

  The girl glanced up and into Rune’s eyes, but only for a second, as though Rune might somehow spear her with a laser beam if she looked too long.

  “What’s your name?” Rune asked.

  As a compromise she likely wasn’t even aware of, the girl settled her gaze on Levi. “Tasha,” she said, almost too quietly for any of them to hear. “Tasha Ramsey.”

  Rune glanced around the area, but saw nothing unusual. At least, nothing unusual for the Moor. “Come inside, Tasha.”

  The girl waited for Rune and the twins to step back into the house before she followed them inside. Rune pointed to the couch. “Have a seat. You want something to drink?”

  “You have whiskey?” the girl whispered.

  Rune gaped. “Whiskey?”

  Tasha lifted her head long enough to show Rune eyes sparkling with a quick humor. “Sorry. I’m really nervous.”

  “I sensed that,” Rune said, drily, but grinned at the girl. “You don’t have to be afraid of us, kid.”

  “We’re the good guys,” Roma told her. “We only hurt bad guys.”

  Tasha nodded. “I’m counting on that.”

  “Tell us what you need,” Denim prompted.

  Tasha looked at him, her gaze lingering on the scar marring his face. “My adoptive father is a cop. He’s also an Other. No one knows. He hid it.”

  Her eyes remained dry, her voice matter-of-fact. Likely, she was all cried out.

  “What type of Other?” Levi asked.

  The girl hesitated.

  “Tasha,” Rune prompted. “What is he?”

  “You probably won’t have heard of his type of Other,” Tasha said. “He’s a griev.”

  “Grieve?” Rune asked, wrinkling her nose. “The hell is that?”

  “Griev,” Roma said. “Grieve without the “e”. I’ve heard of them. They’re assholes.” At Rune’s questioning look, she added, “There are grievs in Skyll.”

  “Of course there are,” Rune said. “First, tell me what’s wrong with your…griev, Tasha. Then you can tell me what we’re up against.”

  Roma nodded and patted her slingshot. “I’ve never heard of anyone succeeding in killing a griev. They’re difficult to injure and very tough to take down. But we’ll give it a try. At least we can capture and contain him.”

  Tasha jumped to her feet. “No,” she cried. “You can’t hurt him. He’s not the bad guy. He’s the victim.” She looked around at all of them, twisting her hands together. “You have to save him.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Ellis peeked into the living room. “Um, Rune? The party guests are arriving.” He peered at Tasha, his face relaxing when he saw no threat in the girl. “All good?”

  “Please,” Tasha begged. “You’re my only hope, Rune Alexander.”

  “Of course we’ll help,” Rune assured her. “We’re Shiv Crew.”

  “It’s what we do,” Levi said, smiling.

  “And we kill people,” Roma added.

  “We can’t talk here,” Rune told the girl. “Can you meet us at Damon’s in an hour?”

  “Yes,” Tasha nodded a little too violently. “Yes. I’ll be waiting.”

  Roma opened the door for Tasha to exit and invited the new arrivals into the house. It seemed like they’d all arrived at once and had piled up outside the front door.

  When Roma stepped back, a line of people holding presents, squirming toddlers, and wide smiles traipsed merrily through the doorway.

  “Rune,” Ellis hissed. “Stop frowning and glaring.”

  She tried to force her expression into more pleasing lines but was pretty sure she fa
iled when a five-year-old stared up her and began to cry.

  “Oh hell,” Rune said.

  But her mood lightened considerably when she caught a glimpse of Raze and Jack bringing up the tail end of the party guests, their faces grim, pale, and determined.

  They sidled their way to Rune and stared at the many children and colorfully dressed parents—mostly mothers, though Rune did see two smiling fathers in the mix—their faces holding a mixture of horror and dread.

  “Not enough liquor for this,” Jack muttered. He had a death grip on his gift to the birthday girl, and one end of the shoddily wrapped present had given under the pressure.

  A little blond boy walked up to Jack. “Are you a pirate?”

  “Son of a bitch,” Jack muttered. Pushing the present under one arm, he pulled a flask from his pocket. Before he could uncap it and take a drink, Ellis flew across the room and yanked it from his grip.

  “For God’s sake,” Ellie whispered—a bit viciously, in Rune’s opinion. “Have you lost your mind?” He started to turn away, flask in hand, then turned back and poked at the gift under Jack’s arm. “For God’s sake.”

  Jack took a step back. “What?”

  Ellis ignored him and glared at Raze. “Both of you put your gifts on that table and stop gnashing your teeth. The lot of you…” He then hurried away when he caught sight of one of the guests getting a little too close to the baby.

  Rune pointed at the present Jack held. “What’d you get her?”

  He looked down at it as though he’d forgotten he held it, his stare blank. “Oh,” he said, finally. “It’s her first blade. Figured it was time.”

  “Cool,” Rune said. “I got her an awesome bulletproof vest. It’s the smallest thing you’ve ever seen.”

  “What about toys?” Roma asked, walking over to join them. “Don’t children like toys?”

  “Everybody else got her toys,” Rune answered, watching the crowd. Ellie’d be taking them out into the bedecked backyard soon. “It’s up to us to get her the good stuff.”

  “Are you a pirate?” the persistent little boy demanded, reaching up to yank on Jack’s shirt.

  “Yeah, kid,” Roma answered, a bit irritated. “He’s a pirate. Ho ho ho.”

  The child made a sound halfway between hysterical laughter and the type of scorn only little boys could manage. “Santa says ho ho ho,” he shouted. “Not pirates.”