Cutting Ties

by C. M. Torrens

  Gage fell silent, and Nicky looked around the halls. “How many are here?”

  “Twelve,” Lloyd said.

  “Let me think a minute,” River said softly. “How much time do you think we have?”

  Lloyd shook his head. “Not long.”

  She paced a moment. “Okay, I have an idea. Gage can get the van from around back and load up the cubs and take them to your old cabin. Dante had it burned, but the old basement secure room is still there. They’ll be safe there, or at least much safer than here, and it’s closer to the pack house.”

  “What’s happening at the pack house?” Lloyd asked.

  River paused, trying not to interfere with Dante as he worked the weave but trying to get a sense of him and the pack. “He has things under control. He’s having everyone move to the mountains. He knows this lull won’t last. No one will come into the mountains. We know them too well,” she said and pulled away from the weave again. “Gage can take the cubs and… and we’ll draw the hybrids away so they can get away. As beasts we can outrun them and then circle around back to the cabin and pull everyone into the mountains.”

  A teenage stray poked his head out of one of the apartment doors. “Even us?” he asked nervously.

  “Yes, even you,” River said with a firm nod. “Everyone goes to the mountains.”

  “Even them?” the teen asked.

  River glanced at the three humans. “Uh… we’ll see what happens. I’m sure we can find somewhere safe to put them once this has passed.”

  Nicky glanced outside. “They’re coming.”

  Everyone stared at her and then at the humans.

  “Oh, fuck it. I hope Dante forgives me for this, but we can’t play games here,” River said and pulled off her dress, tossing it aside. “If the cops see us, they will shoot us. Don’t let them see you,” she said. Crouching down on the ground, she triggered her shift.

  AUGUST LEANED over the stray’s shoulder. The computers set up in the motel room displayed a variety of images on several different screens. It was really amazing what humans invented. Little hovering robots to spy on things—really was ingenious and enormously beneficial. He could be anywhere in the world and still keep an eye on battles in amazing detail.

  He pointed at one of the screens. The landscape seemed very flat. “Where is this?”

  “New Mexico,” he said.

  A dark smile tugged at his lips. Angel’s pack. “Have they fallen back to their safe house yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  The screen zoomed in tighter, and he could make out a fight. Dust stirred as beast and hybrid battled in the desert sand.

  If he was worried about anyone, it was Dante and Angel. They were the most dangerous. But all August needed to do right now was find out where their safe houses were, then everything else would fall into place.

  His phone rang, and he pulled his eyes away from the battle on the screens and glanced at his phone. William.

  “Yes?” he answered.

  “The Nephilim are causing a stir with the strays. You might not want to send out both groups in the same party again,” William said.

  August bit back a growl. He really wished his mistress would take them better in hand. She treated them all like children. And while many of them were, by her standards, they were also very dangerous, especially if they caused trouble during times like this. Infighting would ruin their plans. Big cities could only be handled if everyone fell in line.

  “Deal with it the best you can. Assure the strays I’ll handle things personally when they get back. If they happen to catch a pack shifter beyond their pack, they have my permission to do with it as they wish. A gift for the trouble the Nephilim are causing. Will that do?”

  “I’ll make it work,” William said.

  August hung up the phone and sighed heavily. Those Nephilim were going to be the end of them if this kept up.

  “Found it,” the stray said from over his computers.

  “Which one?”

  “Two of them. Dante’s pack safe house and Angel’s. The ones you wanted most.”

  August smiled and nodded. “Good. See how many others you can find. The more the better.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He forced himself to sit down and delegate through texts and occasional phone calls. The strays were leading the hybrids when they needed something more than a Prime to get the job done. The Nephilim were handling the more dangerous cities in tandem with the group attacks. If all went well, they would send the packs underground or into their ranks. And the humans would finally know their place.

  Panic. It was a wonderful thing if aimed in the right direction, and humans were wonderfully panicky creatures.

  24. Last Stand

  DANTE HELD Kent’s unconscious form tight to his chest. He had shoved Kent into a deep sleep to keep back his cub’s first shift as his pack fanned out to face the attack. It wasn’t nearly as large as he expected, but from the sense he got from River, most of the group had been sent into the city. He was certain this was just the first wave. The second wave would focus on any nonhumans, including the strays River and Nicky were with.

  Trevor’s beast snarled and slammed the last hybrid into the woodpile a few feet from Dante. Dante grabbed the axe and brought it down on the creature’s head before it could get back up.

  “Get everyone into the Suburban and truck,” Dante shouted.

  Most of his pack were beasts, but Dante couldn’t risk shifting and losing his hold, even briefly, on Kent. The cub was in a very vulnerable place right now. Any stress could make his first shift a nightmare. Paul and Ricco both had trouble shifting, so he sent them to the truck and Suburban as drivers. Ricco could at least drive through the woods. There wasn’t the issue of traffic within the pack’s border.

  “Get the cubs loaded up quickly. We need this place empty before they come back,” Dante said and watched his pack race to do as he instructed.

  Trevor shifted to true form beside him. “What about River and Nicky?”

  “They know where we’ll be.” He had faith they could get out of their situation. He had to because there was absolutely nothing he could do for them. “Gather the blankets and oil and toss it in the Lincoln. Michael!” he said, shouting at his heir as he hovered by the front door. “Get out of here. Take the cubs, Ivory, and Jesse and go.”

  Jesse turned his head, and his beast’s posture grew defiant. Dante moved to kneel in front of him. “Look at me.”

  Jesse narrowed his eyes but held his gaze. Dante tapped the weave quickly before Jesse could react. “Sleep,” he whispered.

  Jesse’s eyes widened briefly before he slumped to the ground. Seconds later his beast fell away and he lay unconscious and nude on the ground.

  “Oh. He is going to be so pissed when he wakes up,” Trevor said.

  “Yes, he will,” Dante said and stroked Jesse’s cheek. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  Trevor snatched Jesse up and rushed him to the van with Ivory and the cubs. Paul raced away seconds later, leaving half the pack behind. Ricco was next with his group as Dante scrambled to fetch the things he would need while away, and Andrew was grabbing his medical supplies.

  Trevor, Lex, and Andrew were all who remained.

  They loaded up the Lincoln as the trees began to rustle. The scent of hybrids filled the air.

  “Shit,” Dante whispered and glanced in the direction of the vehicles. He could see no lights. He hoped there was enough time for them to get far enough away.

  He held Kent close and winced. He kissed Kent’s forehead as Lex snarled and faced the coming attack. Trevor dropped and triggered his shift with a pain-filled snarl as he rushed the process. Andrew was old, and they both knew he wouldn’t be able to shift in time. Andrew grabbed the axe Dante discarded after killing the hybrid, and the trio made a ring around him and Kent with their backs to the car.

  Dante reached into the trunk and grabbed the tire iron.

  “Alpha” came a hiss f
rom the woods. “Brother wants you. Brother sees you. Brother take you home.”

  Dante glared at the woods, not bothering to respond. He urged the rest of his pack to stay away and tucked Kent tighter to his chest, wrapping him tight in his jacket so he would still be able to move.

  They came in a rush, and it was all they could do to keep the wave of creatures at bay. Dante snarled and swung his tire iron, breaking bones and spilling blood every time he connected. The hybrid leaped out of the mass toward him. He barely had time to turn and keep Kent protected as the creature plowed into him. It ripped its claws into his shoulder and down his back. The tire iron fell from his grasp, and the hybrid snapped its jaws inches from his throat. Trevor roared, his beast ripping the creature off him.

  Dante panted around the pain. His free arm seriously wounded, he tried to grab for the tire iron, but it was just out of reach. Lex yipped in pain and rolled toward him. He grabbed Lex by the scruff and pulled him back out of the mass of bodies.

  The group was closing in tight around them. Dante pulled from the pack, siphoning some of their strength into the heavies around him. He didn’t dare take too much just in case they were attacked on their way to the mountain sanctuary, and took nothing from Michael at all. If he fell, Michael was the only one who could take the pack, and it would take a great deal of his strength to pull off.

  Tying Kent tighter to him, he turned to face the masses and snarled before stepping into the fray. The creatures were about to find out what a pack was capable of doing when trying to save one of their cubs.

  GEORGE LAY in his hotel, half-asleep. The sounds of a car chase drifted from the TV, and bad guys shot at the good guys as if they had never seen a range, let alone learned how to use a gun. Nothing irked him more than to see an actor running around firing a shotgun with the damn butt under his arm. What the hell was that supposed to do, anyway? He vaguely wondered what would happen if a real shotgun was fired that way. It certainly wouldn’t be pretty, and they definitely wouldn’t hit the broadside of a barn. Brutal on the arms, ribs, maybe, sprain something? Gun might pop up and smack them. Lose the gun?

  He chuckled; that would be funny. Would depend on load, shot versus slug.

  He smiled and stretched. They really should make a comedy about something like that. He’d watch that shit.

  Horns honked outside the hotel, and sirens blared with unusual frequency. He considered getting up to take a look, but the bed was pretty comfortable now. He had found just the right spot to lie in that didn’t end him on top of a lump.

  Another siren screamed past, and he frowned. His curiosity was getting the better of him, and he climbed to his feet.

  Someone shouted from a few rooms down. “We’re being invaded!”

  George chuckled and shook his head but grabbed the pistol from the nightstand just in case. Pulling open the door, he peered outside into the parking lot. People were scrambling to their cars, and more cop cars screamed down the road.

  He paused a moment at the door. The air felt heavy, and he could hear shouting people from down the street. He backed into his room and threw on his boots as he grabbed his bag. Stepping back outside, he scanned the parking lot and the rooms to either side of him along the breezeway. Several people had stepped outside, confused looks on their faces.

  “What’s happening?” a man asked.

  George frowned and shook his head. “Stay there,” he said and stepped out into the parking lot toward the main street.

  The screams were getting closer, and cars raced in the opposite direction. A car swerved and plowed into a streetlight a few blocks away. The driver tried to get his car restarted several times before jumping out and running, screaming something as he went. Lights flickered, and the power went out, throwing the streets into darkness. George squinted into the night but couldn’t quite make out any visuals.

  “What the fuck?” he said and looked back down in the direction the cop cars had disappeared.

  Small groups of people raced through the street, screaming. He couldn’t see what they were running from, exactly.

  A sudden wave of dark figures rounded the corner a half-dozen blocks away. Moonlight shone down on their misshapen half-beast figures. Not one or two; there were dozens. A mob of them ripping and tearing everything in their path.

  “Holy fuck,” George breathed. He turned and ran back through the parking lot to his van. “Get in your rooms! Lock the doors!”

  He doubted it would help. There were too many, and they were ripping through building after building as they went. He raced for his van and jumped inside. Ripping the top panel off the ceiling, he grabbed the shotgun and spare clips hidden overhead.

  The mob was between him and Nathan’s place, but at least Nathan had a safe room, which was more than he had at the moment.

  A small group of people ran through the parking lot, scanning for some glimmer of safety. George shouted at them and put the shotgun to his shoulder as a hybrid closed in on the group.

  He pulled the trigger as they raced past him, the hybrid’s face exploding as the slug drilled through his head and out the other side. He pointed to his van, and they piled into it. George jumped in the driver’s seat. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but away seemed like a very good idea.

  The engine roared, and he spun the van around, heading away from the destruction.

  A woman wept softly in the back of the van, and someone was whispering “monsters” over and over again. Cars and people dashed in front of the van, turning the street into an obstacle course. He bounced the van over a curb and around a car, trying to find space to drive. His rear tire rolled over something, and he could only hope it wasn’t human. He squeezed through two abandoned cars and found a patch of clear road.

  “Thanks for helping us,” a short dark-haired woman said, climbing into the passenger seat beside him.

  “Not sure how much good it did. They’re everywhere now,” George said. “We need a place to hole up.”

  He scanned the streets, trying to find someplace secure. The dark streets made it hard to see beyond the headlights. He winced as a body came flying out of a building and hit the side of his van. The woman in the back of the van started screaming. In the confines of the vehicle, it pierced his ear.

  “Shut up, I’m trying to fucking drive!” George snapped at her. He felt a little bad for shouting, but for fuck’s sake, her scream was deafening.

  “There,” the dark-haired woman beside him said, pointing.

  A large group had gathered around a store, carrying weapons, and cop cars barricaded the front. A large bonfire stood in the parking lot, piles of bookshelves and furniture adding fuel to the flames.

  It was as good a place as any. The hybrids were everywhere. There was no getting out of town now.

  He parked the van at the barricade and jumped out with the small group that had piled in his van. A pair of cops ran toward them. The dark-haired woman had her own pistol and fired at a group of hybrids speeding toward the group.

  The cops joined her, and the creatures fell. George grabbed the arm of the weeping woman and pulled her with him back behind the barricade.

  The store wasn’t really a store at all but a small group of doctors’ offices. The room was stuffed with people, many of them injured. He handed the weeping woman over to the guy who had been muttering “monsters” this whole time and went back out with the cops.

  The officers had formed a ring around the front of building. Cars were butted up tight together as a barricade and the glow from the bonfire shed light on most of the parking lot.

  “What’s your name?”

  He turned to see the dark-haired woman again. “George Keung,” he told her.

  “I’m Jenny Montoya. You a cop?”

  “Not even close,” he huffed.

  A wave of hybrids was starting to surround the building, and they both moved to take a defensive position along the car wall.

  “What are these creatures?” she asked.


  “Very bad things, and if you happen to see any… wolflike animals out there, don’t shoot them.”

  She shot him a confused look. “What?”

  “Just trust me. There’s good monsters and bad monsters. You don’t want to piss off the good monsters.”

  She stared at him but nodded, and the wave of hybrids swarmed in. They moved so fast they were a blur. They had to shoot and hope they hit something because tracking them was almost impossible. Hisses filled the night, and snarls punctuated the air. A howled laughter rippled from somewhere deep in the darkness, and the cops murmured uneasily.

  “Hey! Stay alert up there!” George shouted at them. “They’re just fucking with you. Don’t be a bunch of pussies.”

  Several of them turned to glare at him. Hell, he didn’t care. If they were angry, they weren’t scared. Angry was better than scared any day.

  The shadows just outside the ring of light began to move, and as one wave, they swept in. The shotgun rocked against his shoulder, and sweat rolled down the back of his neck.

  Four hybrids rushed over the barricade, tearing through people. People screamed. Some jumped over the barricade into the darkness to be away from the hybrids behind the line and disappeared under small groups of the monsters. A dozen were injured or killed before the four were finally put down.

  And then everything went quiet.

  George’s shoulder ached, and sweat stuck to his skin. The hybrids were gone… maybe.

  He panted, his body sore. Someone handed him a bottle of water.

  The dark-haired woman turned to face him. What was her name again? Jenny? “You know something. What are those monsters?”

  George shook his head. “No one’s sure. The people I know call them hybrids.” He ran his hand through his hair and tried to catch his breath.

  A thought suddenly hit him. “Dante. They would have tried to hit Dante’s place.”

  “Who’s Dante?” Jenny asked.

  “One of the few people who knows what the fuck is going on. Or at least more than most. I gotta go. If they kill him, this city is fucked.”