The Gathering
Page 47
A deafening snapping sound followed by a sound like a fast-moving waterfall rumbled toward him.
As his vision returned, he was greeted by the unwelcomed sight of the hotel building collapsing on top of him.
Days and nights melded for Hector as he did his best to gather his sanity back and come to grips with what had happened. One minute he had been fighting the Wereboar and the next he had found himself blocks away, his clothes in tatters and his knife missing.
Fragments of memory crept up on him and refused to go like some unwanted guest who wouldn’t get the hint, regardless of how many times he slammed the door in their face. Memories of him fighting against the Wereboar, but not fighting with his knife, instead, fighting with claws, covered in tawny fur.
It was impossible. His purpose, his mission, had been to kill all the Were-creatures, he couldn’t be one himself, could he? He thought back to that day when his grandfather handed him the knife, how it had flushed him with heat. The power of a God, he had believed, and now, it seemed likely.
The Werejaguar. The god who had come to defend his worshippers from the were-creatures the other gods had sent. By taking the blade, he had allowed that God to infuse Hector with his abilities.
Hector went cold with realization of what his grandfather had surrendered to him when he gave him the knife. He remembered how hale his grandfather had seemed. Young, even. Certainly not like someone should be at his age. And yet, the day after he had given Hector the knife, his grandfather had died.
That morning, Hector had found his grandfather at his desk in his study. He had looked to have aged considerably since the day before. Hector had taken this as a symptom of his death. But now. Now Hector realized it had been the knife all along which had granted his father unnatural vigor.
Part of the healing ability granted by lycanthropy had kept his grandfather alive longer than he should have been. When he had given the knife to Hector, the power transferred to him and his grandfather was now bereft of its gifts, so his body could no longer sustain him.
Hector stumbled through the city looking like a beggar as his mind reeled from all he now understood. His grandfather had known. Of course, he had known! His grandfather had willingly given his life so Hector could do what needed to be done.
But his grandfather had been wrong. Had not truly understood the dynamics of this new group of shifters. There were heroes among them. Heroes . . . and he had killed one.
He would not do so again.
A war was coming, and when the city of Houston was attacked by Mother Earth and people were terrorized all over the country by hordes of Were-creatures, Hector realized the war was here.
Now he must choose a side.
THE END
The saga will continue in the third and final book of the Lycan War Saga
“The War”
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The Gathering
Copyright © 2019 by Michael Timmins
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination.
Michael Timmins lives in Toledo, Ohio with his wife and two sons. His inspiration for writing came from his many years making modules to run for his D&D group. It has been a dream of his to one day get his work published, and now with ease of self-publishing he has made his dream come true.