Terry held up a finger. “I need to check in with our other team.” He mashed some buttons on his device and waited.
Terry looked at it. Cory wasn’t answering. He called Joseph, and then Petricia. No answer. Char had turned her full attention to Terry’s actions as he punched buttons with greater and greater speed.
He called Kurtz and then called Destiny.
“No,” he whispered, before finding his voice. “Watch them and recall all tac teams to our pos!” he ordered Shonna and Merrit as he vaulted obstacles on his way to the stairs. Char was right behind him with Ramses and Sarah sprinting after them.
***
The Werewolf charged Kurtz again and he held it off a second time. He looked for a way to get a clean shot, aiming over the top of the barrel as he moved, never crossing his feet.
The Were charged, throwing Destiny’s body at him. He tried to dodge, but the body hit him in the chest. The Werewolf grabbed Tyson’s rifle in its mouth, twisted, and ripped it free of the sling. Kurtz staggered backward, pushing Destiny from him and ignoring the sickening splat as she hit the ground.
He crouched, a knife leaping into his hand, but he was no longer the target. The Werewolf reared back and jumped for Cory.
Kurtz was faster, throwing his body in between and slamming into the Were’s head as Cory sidestepped away. The private grabbed a handful of fur and started stabbing with the other hand. Thrust after thrust. The Werewolf yipped and looked for a place to bite, but Kurtz wore his body armor and its fangs couldn’t penetrate the Kevlar, not at the angle it had.
The private held its head tightly into his chest as it started to buck and pull backward, like a monster dog playing tug-of-war. He stabbed it in the neck again, but wasn’t finding a vulnerable point. A shot rang out as Cory had recovered his carbine and fired into the creature’s haunches.
It yelped from the pain, but refused to give in. Kurtz pulled it tighter to him, thrusting from behind the thing’s skull and driving the blade into its brain.
The Werewolf flopped to the ground, pulling Kurtz with it. It changed into a rough looking man and then started to wither. Kurtz pushed it away from him, crawling backwards to lean against the wall. Cory’s glowing blue eyes watched him.
“Destiny Chase,” he forced himself to say.
Cory shook her head. “You’re injured,” she said. Bites and scrapes. Kurtz hadn’t seen that one of the fangs and ripped through the side of his bicep, clipping his brachial artery. When he lifted his arm, blood spurted across his chest. He watched it dumbly. A second spurt, close to the first.
He clamped his arm to his side, but his strength was waning. Cory dove for him, hands out. She concentrated, taxing herself to the limit. Her nanocytes glowed blue as they left her body and healed the young private. With the artery sealed and the skin sewing itself back together, the glow faded and Cory slumped across Kurtz’s lap.
He had already passed out, head on his chest, wedged into the debris from the building’s demise. A comm device started to buzz.
***
Terry jumped from landing to landing as he raced down the stairs. Had there been an opening, he would have jumped the last five flights, taking his chances in order to save time.
When he hit the bottom stair, he burst through the door and raced into the night. He accelerated to a speed no human should have been capable of. He maintained perfect form as he ran. Char powered along behind while Sarah and Ramses had fallen back, but were still within sight.
They’d only chased the Weres for less than two miles. Retracing their steps was easy. Terry always seemed to know where he was.
Char passed Terry in the final stretch. She knew something was wrong. The Forsaken were gone, but Cory was still there with one of the privates. They ran over the rubble of the collapsed building, leaping from mound to mound and vaulting the last thirty feet to the alley where they had last seen their daughter.
Char ran to her daughter while Terry checked on the naked man lying in the street. He knew a dead Werewolf when he saw one. The knife’s hilt was sticking out of the back of its neck. Not far away, Destiny Chase’s body was cooling within a great puddle of blood.
Joseph and Petricia were nowhere to be seen.
Terry breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Char smile and nod.
He joined her, kneeling by her side and hanging his head. “I fucked this up twelve different ways from Sunday,” he lamented, stopping his self-recrimination when Ramses and Sarah arrived.
Char moved away so Ramses could be with his wife and Sarah with her mother. Ramses hugged her to him and cradled her as she slept the sleep of the exhausted. Sarah fumbled around, trying to help her parents and the warrior Kurtz get comfortable.
For some reason, she knew that he’d saved her mother’s life. She didn’t know how, but understood that the two had fought a terrible battle with the Were to protect Cordelia.
Terry and Char looked at the battlefield, an alley, strewn with debris and splattered with the blood of human, Were, and Forsaken.
“We were gone too long,” Terry started. “I know. I can’t control everything, but the world’s recovery has plunged it further into chaos. We can’t even walk through Chicago without putting our lives at risk? This was a training exercise.”
“Bullshit,” Char said softly. She grabbed Terry’s collar. He saw fear in her eyes. She leaned close. “We’re counting on you. All of us, to do what’s best for humanity.”
Terry hugged his wife, nibbling on her ear.
“I am a rock,” he said.
“Your destiny, my love.”
“Our destiny.” Terry wiped his eyes. “I must have gotten some grit during the run. Made my eyes water, but it looks like I can focus now.”
Char smiled, closed-lipped, as she looked at the carnage one more time. “Weres have always been ingenious when it came to taking over territory. Mostly harmless could be a good description, but bullies and assholes might be better.”
“They always said that you can’t legislate morality. Where do we draw the line between how much of an asshole one can be before we step in? We can’t have killings like this. I like those oldsters. They’re survivors. They aren’t going to stir up shit just to have something to do.”
Terry one-arm hugged Char as he pulled his comm device and called Shonna and Merrit. “Bring them back to the alley. All of them.” He cut it off without waiting for a reply.
Kurtz was first to awake. Sarah called TH over.
“I’m sorry, sir. He got Destiny before we could react. Used her as a shield until it got my rifle.” Kurtz looked for the words but didn’t continue. He coughed heavily to clear his lungs.
“He used his body as a shield to protect me,” Cory added sleepily.
“Where’s Joseph?” Terry asked without acknowledging their stories.
“He picked up Petricia, handed over their comm devices, and left,” Tyson answered as Cory had drifted back to sleep.
Terry looked at the private closely. “You did well, better than any unenhanced human I’ve seen taking on a Werewolf with just a knife and winning. You protected my daughter, offering your life for hers. There is no higher testament of one’s loyalty and dedication. I have nothing to give. That others can live good lives is our reward. I will promote you to lieutenant. That’s the least I can do. It may be important some day.”
Terry squeezed the man’s shoulder.
“Thank you, sir.” Kurtz didn’t know what else to say.
Tac Team Echo was the first to arrive. The four Werewolves jogged up while Samantha Matthews ran full speed. She tried not to show how hard she was breathing, failing miserably as her nostrils flared and her chest heaved.
“Who is Joshua Timmons?” Char demanded.
“What?” Timmons replied, reeling backward from the verbal assault.
“You heard me. I thought I knew you,” she said accusingly. Sue stepped away and crossed her arms as she glared at Timmons.
“I have no idea what
you’re talking about,” Timmons said as the options raced through his mind. He’d never had a mate before Sue. There had been trysts when he lived in New York City, but that was one hundred and forty years prior. “Do I have a son?”
“It appears that you do,” Char said, easing off after seeing the confusion on his face. He never knew. As the alpha, it was her place to know because of potential challengers to lead the pack. Those kinds of secrets had a tendency to be fatal to more than just the bastard pup.
Timmons looked at Sue, who was just as quick to forgive. She hugged her mate, before realizing they were in the midst of carnage. “Holy cow. What happened here?”
“Andrew is dead. Destiny Chase is dead. Joseph and Petricia are gone,” Terry answered, giving a clinical rundown of their losses.
“Oh, no!” Sue cried. “I liked Andrew.”
“We all did.” Terry’s features reflected the hard leader that he had been. He’d softened over the fifty years they spent living the tropical life, but now he was back. A stagnant FDG? Insurrection from the sergeants? And losing one of his core teams?
He snarled. “The world better watch the fuck out. We’re coming. Judge, jury, and executioner.” Terry tipped his head back and yelled at the sky. “LISTEN UP, DOUCHEBAGS! WE’RE COMING FOR YOU!”
Shonna and Merrit appeared at the end of the alley, having gone around instead of over the rubble. They had the three older Werewolves with them. They’d found clothing along the way and all were dressed.
The oldest of them bowed his head. “I hope that doesn’t mean us,” he said, barely above a whisper.
Terry, his features carved in stone, looked emotionlessly at the oldster. “No. You fought the evil ones. I need a group here to watch out for us, let us know when assholes need us to come kill them. Are you up for the job?”
“I was hoping I could take my daughter away, to the mountains outside Denver. I hear it’s nice there, lots of space.”
“Until you go, keep your eyes peeled around here. Deal?” The oldster nodded. Terry removed the comm device from Destiny’s shredded uniform, wiping the blood on his pants before handing it over to the oldster.
He punched the buttons while the old man watched. Terry’s comm device buzzed. He answered and hung up, then called back. It buzzed in the oldster’s hand. He pressed the button.
“Easy as that…”
“Gerry. I go by Gerry,” the oldster offered. Terry smiled before looking past the old Werewolf.
Terry did a double-take as the last of the enemy Were appeared from behind Merrit and approached the body of her pack member. She caressed his face lovingly.
“Your pack picked the wrong people to fuck with,” Terry told her. She gave him the finger. He leaned close to her, grabbed the hilt of Kurtz’s fighting knife, and yanked it from the dead Were’s head. He wiped the blade on the man’s bare skin before handing it back to the new lieutenant.
Sarah watched, stone-faced. Her introduction to war had been hard, showing her the cruelty that one group could inflict on another. She learned at that moment that her grandfather was the baddest of them all. She shivered, not from the cold, but from the fear that his enemies should feel.
The bitch watched Terry carefully, assessing her chances. His eyes glowed a faint red. She looked away quickly. Tonight was not a great night to die.
“Can we bury him?” she asked respectfully.
“In the rubble. One of yours with one of ours. You even think about crossing us again, it will be you, your pack, and all your friends who will join them. I’ll place your head on a pole outside this mound as a sign to everyone. We’ll even give you a plaque, in your honor. It’ll say, evil will be met with extreme prejudice.
“We’re going to let you go, so you can spread the word. If you try to build an army? Please, go ahead. I am not a fan of shooting fish in a barrel, but if you can gather all the assholes in one place, it’ll be so much easier to kill them all. Every. Single. One.”
He removed his Mameluke. She cringed as the silvered blade approached her skin. He ran the flat quickly along the side of her neck. Her skin smoked, liquefied, and then hardened afresh, leaving an ugly scar. She threw her hand to her neck and grimaced.
To her credit, she hadn’t cried out.
“Every. Single. One,” he repeated. “Bury him in there and then fuck off. Next time I see you, you die.”
He turned away as the other tac teams arrived.
“Gene and Bogdan, could you carry Destiny?” Terry asked the largest members of the group.
Nick, Edwin, and Samantha hurried to Tyson. “It was a fight for our lives. I’m not so sure we won,” he told them. They watched the Werebears pick up what remained of their friend.
“Holy fuck,” Edwin whispered.
“Reminds you how fragile we are, even after all the physical conditioning.” Kurtz climbed to unsteady feet. The nanocytes had repaired his injuries, but they couldn’t replace the blood he’d lost. He drank as much water as he could hold, but remained as weak as a kitten.
“Tactical movement to the pod, Charlie and Echo on the flanks. Delta will lead the way. Bravo in the rocking chair. Sarah, join Tac Team Delta. Where in the fuck is Ted?”
“Completing the mission,” Ramses said dryly.
“Call him and tell him to meet us at the pod, for fuck’s sake,” Terry grumbled. The three older Werewolves stayed to watch the bitch bury the last of her pack.
“Peace,” Char told him. “I hope to meet your daughter some day.”
“That would be nice. Until some day, Mistress Alpha.” The oldster bowed deeply. Terry and Char thought they heard his bones snapping and popping. One of the others had to help him stand up straight. He turned away, embarrassed by his frailty, before barking at the bitch to get to work.
As they took their positions, with Terry and Char in the lead, Kim, Kae, Auburn, Ramses, Sarah, and Cory found their way to the front. Each of them touched Terry and Char in one way or another, on the back, the arm, the side of their heads. No one said a word because they knew the pain that Terry Henry Walton was in.
***
Ted was annoyed at the incessant buzzing from his comm device. He finally had to answer it.
“What?” he snapped.
“Rally at the pod, ASAP,” Ramses said.
Ted stamped his foot and shook with anger at the interruption. He took a deep breath. “Fine. I found something Terry needs to see.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Japan
“That’s it, Marcie-san,” Akio said softly. “Feel it in your mind, the energy as it flows from the etheric. Funnel the power through you. What is it showing you?”
“Gray clouds, mist, nothing solid, nothing tangible.”
“Move forward. Walk. Swing your arms as you normally would. Wave the mist away. You control it. It doesn’t control you.”
Marcie lifted her arm as she made to get up.
“In your mind only, Marcie-san.”
She relaxed her arm and folded her hands in her lap. Her legs and arms twitched as they tried to follow her mental commands to walk. Her body relaxed and calmed as her mind reached into the etheric dimension.
Marcie vigorously waved her hands in front of her, willing the mist away through the aggression of her actions. But the mist swirled in behind her hands. She dropped her arms to her side as she strolled within the different dimension.
She took a deep breath and blew the mist away as if blowing out a candle. The world before her cleared. It was like looking at Earth from space. Lights twinkled around the landscape. With a thought, she could zoom in, take a quick look-see, then zoom back out, change her focus, and explore some place new.
She saw Akio drawing energy from the etheric. Yuko was nearby, a pale ghost as she wasn’t actively within the dimension, but she could use it and that gave her away. Marcie stretched out and the geography changed. She saw other points. Six, not far away, ghost-like, as Yuko had been. They were sleeping underneath a million tons of rubbl
e. Marcie approached and looked at them.
Powerful. Queen’s Elite all, like Akio, but trapped. She looked closely. She couldn’t see race, color, or gender through the etheric, not with these six anyway. She stood over the crawlspace where they slept, leaning close over one and studying his face within the grayness.
His eyes popped open and Marcie jumped in the physical world as well as the etheric. She slowed her heart to normal and leaned close. His lips were moving. “Soon,” he was saying.
Marcie walked to the others, but wanted the answer. What did the Queen’s Elite mean?
She slowly opened her eyes and stretched her neck. Akio sat calmly, wearing his all-black fatigues as he usually did, and watched her.
“Soon?” she asked.
“The Queen is coming home,” Akio replied flatly. The understanding dawned on her.
“Bethany Anne is real?” she asked.
Akio didn’t dignify that with an answer.
“When?”
“A little while still. You must not tell Terry or Char, Marcie-san. Promise me.”
“I promise, but he needs to know. When will he be told?”
“When the time is right. Within three years of her return, sixteen years from now. You must secure this information within your mind, keep it from Joseph. Keep it from them all.”
“Teach me how to do that,” she replied.
“Calm your mind…” Akio started as he settled in for a new round of mental training.
San Francisco
The training platoon sobered immensely as they helped bury one of their own. Some had seen the shape Destiny Chase’s body was in when the tac teams returned.
The celebration of her life was an important factor for anyone who died while on duty with the FDG. They ended the ceremony with hearty oorah. Terry worked the crowd hard before pulling the training platoon together.
He put Lieutenant Kurtz front and center.
“Tell them the story,” Terry said. Kurtz looked at him sideways. “You want to be a leader of men, sometimes this is what you have to do.”
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