Christine walked briskly down the sidewalk and when she passed Scott's house, she kept going. She ran down the street and darted behind a large tree where Yaya and Boris were waiting for her.
“Everything okay?” Yaya asked.
Christine nodded. She turned back and looked towards Laura's house. She missed her baby already but she couldn't risk bringing Darren along. She couldn't put her son in danger. And...should anything happen to her, she knew that Mark and Laura would take very good care of Darren. He would grow up with a loving family…
Christine gulped and shook away all these morbid thoughts. Nothing would happen to her. She was doing this, not for herself, but for her son. She was his mother, and she would rid the world of monsters for him! No one was safe while that monster was roaming around, searching for his next victim.
“Let's do this,” Christine snarled, clenching her fists.
Yaya nodded and whistled to Boris. Boris wriggled out of a rabbit's burrow at the bottom of a tree and shook the leaves and twigs out of his bristles. He darted over to Yaya and hovered at her side while she secured a package to his handle and clambered aboard.
“Come on,” Yaya told Christine.
Christine took a deep breath and sat astride the quivering broomstick. Boris jerked and dipped suddenly, pretending to sag under her weight.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny, Boris,” Christine deadpanned.
She knew she wasn't a skinny, tiny woman, but Yaya had boasted that she had once carted a refrigerator home on her broomstick. “No trouble at all. And I saved a fortune on delivery fees!”
Christine was sure she didn't weigh more than a refrigerator.
Boris shook, presumably with laughter. Yaya rapped her broomstick sternly on the handle and said, “No fooling around, Boris. This is serious business.”
Christine held on tight as Boris soared towards the clouds. It was frightening yet exhilarating, and Christine forced herself to open her eyes and look.
She'd always been afraid of heights, but she couldn't afford to be scared now. She couldn't afford to close her eyes and hide. She had a monster to slay.
“How do we lure it out?” Christine asked Yaya. She had to shout to be heard as the wind kept ripping her voice away.
“With its own blood,” Yaya answered.
Yaya turned around and sat cross-legged on her broomstick. “Be careful, Yaya!” Christine cried.
Yaya giggled and threw her hands in the air. “Look, no hands!”
“Yaya!”
Chortling, Yaya drew a small glass container from her pocket. The witch was perfectly balanced on her flying broomstick. She looked like she was lounging in a comfortable chair, with her feet snugly tucked under her, instead of whizzing over trees and rooftops on an unpredictable, cantankerous broomstick.
Yaya's face became solemn as she held the glass up to the light. Christine saw some sand and blades of grass in the bottle. There were dark stains on the sand and grass.
“I saw this blood on the ground a little distance from your inn,” Yaya said. “I put the bloodstained grass and sand in a bottle, and took them home. I wanted to analyze the blood.”
Yaya put the bottle away and said, “It took me all night, and I had to dig up some old spells and potions. The last sighting was eighty years ago. I was a trainee witch then. I never thought that I would come across yet another one in my old age.”
“You said that this creature can mimic the voice of its last victim,” Christine said, swallowing painfully.
“Yes.” Yaya nodded. “Sometimes, it can even assume a reasonable likeness of the last person it killed and ate.”
“The monster used Mr Randall's voice to get me to open the door. It killed Mr Randall, a sweet, gentle grandfather...”
“And it will keep on killing, because it will forever be hungry. That is its curse,” Yaya said grimly.
Christine gulped. “Is it...a d-demon?”
“No. This creature...it used to be a man,” Yaya replied. “It was human, until...it wasn't.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Scott held up his fist to signal to his team. The Sentinels had surrounded the Duskfall compound, and were waiting for their Alpha's order to attack.
The Duskfall pack occupied a gated compound. Their training quarters were on one side of the compound, and that was where the fighting members of their pack stayed. There was a low building at the other corner of the compound which housed the non-fighting members of the pack. The elderly, pregnant females and children were all in that low building.
Scott glanced over and nodded at Ari. Ari's team was assigned to protect the families of the Duskfall wolves. The Sentinels were here to retaliate against the Duskfall pack but they would not hurt the children and elderly members of the pack. The other packs would simply slaughter everyone, but the Sentinels drew the line at hurting those who were weak and defenseless. War was destructive, but they tried their best to limit the number of innocent victims.
A lone howl sounded. That was their Alpha's command.
“Let's go!” Scott gave the signal and ran forward. The Sentinels moved swiftly out from their hiding places and swarmed towards the compound. Some teams were in wolf form and they leaped over the gate and fence in a great white wave. Alarms blared, but it was too late. The Sentinels were in.
Gunshots were heard as the Duskfall wolves poured out of their barracks. As the two packs clashed, Ari's team swiftly surrounded and secured the building. The circle of white wolves stood in an impenetrable circle around the building, stopping anyone from going in or getting out.
The Duskfall compound was now a raging battleground. Scott fought alongside his lieutenants, taking down as many Duskfall soldiers as he could. Being in human form allowed him to use his weapons, and Scott was an excellent marksman. He was deadly with his blades and gun.
Scott threw a knife straight into the chest of an enemy who was aiming his gun at Mark. Mark was fighting in wolf form, and he turned to growl at Scott.
Scott read the warning in Mark's eyes and ducked quickly. A bullet whizzed over his head, and Scott spun round and released his throwing knife. The blade lodged itself between the eyes of a Duskfall lieutenant, and the man half-shifted into a black wolf as he fell. But he was dead before he could complete his shift.
Scott cursed as a large black wolf knocked him to the ground. Razor sharp teeth snapped dangerously close to his neck. Scott snarled, feeling his wolf rising to the surface. His wolf was baying for the blood of his enemies, but Scott couldn't shift while wrestling a savage, black wolf. The black wolf would tear his throat out and finish him off if he lost focus for just a second.
Scott strained to hold the enemy off while grappling for the knife at his ankle holster. He finally managed to slide his knife out and plunge it into the wolf's belly.
Swiping the blood away from his eyes, Scott staggered up and saw Grayson facing off against the Alpha of the Duskfall pack. Grayson was surrounded by several snarling black wolves, who were all aiming for Grayson's jugular. Scott swore viciously and ran towards his Alpha.
Scott was about to shift into wolf form when he caught a small, sudden movement from a doorway.
He pulled his wolf back at the very last instant and flattened himself against a wall.
There was a flash of metal from the shadows.
Scott slid quickly along the wall and tensed. A gun emerged from the doorway. Scott immediately saw that the gun was aiming at Grayson. He lunged forward and grabbed the gun.
Scott threw himself at the shooter and tumbled into the dim barracks. He pinned the bastard to the ground and tried to wrestle the gun away. Scott's eyes widened when he saw the shooter's face.
“You!” Scott snarled. “You're not just a fucking coward, Leon! You're a traitor!”
Leon bared his teeth at Scott, as they both struggled for control of the gun. “You are not a Sentinel,” Scott spat.
“I never was,” Leon hissed, his eyes glowing with hate.
Sc
ott unsheathed his claws and slashed down at Leon as the latter squeezed off a shot. Scott felt the bullet graze his cheek as he twisted away.
He cursed and charged at Leon. He was going to kill this traitor with his bare hands.
He caught Leon around the throat and slammed him against the wall. Leon tried to point the gun at him, but Scott slashed at his wrist and the gun clattered to the floor. “You're their spy,” Scott growled. “That's how the Duskfall pack knew I was at The Happy Inn. They sent someone to burn down her inn and destroy everything she had!”
“She wasn't the target,” Leon croaked. “Her inn was destroyed, because of you.”
“You piece of shit!” Scott yelled, tightening his grip around the traitor's throat.
Leon let out a feral growl and his wolf ripped out suddenly. Scott skidded away just in time as Leon leaped at him, his jaws wide open. The wolf smashed into the wall and the impact broke something in the wolf's body. Leon's movements weren't as quick as before. He picked himself up painfully and turned around.
By the time he faced Scott, Scott had already snatched the gun up from the floor and was holding it steady in both hands.
Leon's eyes widened as he flew towards Scott. But the bullet was faster than the wolf.
Leon collapsed in a pool of blood, his unseeing eyes staring up at Scott.
Scott stepped away in disgust. Leon was a self-serving, treacherous coward. Leon knew no loyalty and served only himself. When the Sentinels took over the Red Razor pack, Leon saw that it was to his benefit to pledge allegiance to the Sentinels' Alpha.
But when a rival pack dangled a carrot in front of him, Leon didn't hesitate to betray the Sentinels. The Duskfall wolves no doubt paid him handsomely for his information and services.
Scott stared at the dead wolf with contempt. That was why Leon had wanted to be notified of the attack beforehand. He wanted to pass the information along to the Duskfall wolves.
“Fuck you,” Scott spat.
Scott stumbled out of the barracks. Through the chaos, he managed to catch sight of his Alpha.
He saw Grayson on the ground, his snowy white fur matted with blood. The Duskfall Alpha had his jaws around Grayson's neck.
More black wolves swarmed towards the fallen white wolf, closing in for the kill.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Christine trudged deeper into the forest and looked up at the thick canopy that was blocking the sunlight. She squinted between the trees and thought she saw strange shapes in the shadows. No, no, she couldn't let her imagination and fear get the better of her. She had to keep her eye out for a real monster, not imaginary ones.
Christine shook her head and tried to steady her breathing. She had to stay calm and alert.
Yaya was walking determinedly ahead. Boris brought up the rear, traipsing silently along on his bristles. When Christine slowed down, Boris sneaked up to her and swept playfully at her feet. “You know, I've never been swept off my feet by a broom before,” Christine muttered and laughed at her own lame joke.
Yaya stopped suddenly and pulled out the glass bottle. She unscrewed the lid and upended the bottle. The bloodstained dirt and grass scattered on the forest floor.
Christine gasped when Yaya flicked a pocket knife out from her cloak and grabbed Christine's hand. “Yaya? What…!”
Christine let out a cry of pain when Yaya sliced her palm with the knife. “Ow! What the…!” She yelled and pulled her hand back. It was a shallow cut but it sure hurt like a bitch.
“Human blood,” Yaya said simply as she flicked the blood off the blade. “You're the only one who has it. I'm a witch, and I've been told that my blood smells and tastes a little funny. Not quite human and not quite paranormal. And Boris doesn't have any blood.”
Christine pressed her hand to her side to stop the bleeding. “You could have told me that I'm bait.”
“That's not why you're here, Christine,” Yaya said sternly. “You're here to destroy the wendigo, not feed it.”
Christine gulped.
“Wendigo,” Christine repeated, hating the quaver in her voice. The monster was a wendigo, a nightmarish, cannibalistic, violent creature that had once been human.
Yaya had told her that the wendigo was a tortured creature that was forever tormented by its own blood-thirsty greed and appetite. It would forever be hungry, and it would keep craving human flesh no matter how much it ate. “Never satisfied, never at peace. It is a cursed creature,” Yaya said. “It was once human, and to destroy it, we have to make it human again.”
Christine had listened in horror and revulsion as Yaya explained to her how the wendigo came to be. “When a man starts eating human flesh, something dies in him. His humanity, morality, restraint and control. Everything that makes a man human becomes twisted and corrupted within him. His feelings and emotions become uncontrollable urges and appetites. He will keep killing and devouring human flesh, but still he is eternally tormented by his hunger. He is no longer a man, but a monster. He has been corrupted and changed by his own choices and actions.”
“Choices? No one would choose this!” Christine had cried, appalled.
“Oh he chose,” Yaya answered. “He chose to murder and consume human flesh. Maybe it was a desperate choice, but still it was his choice.”
“What would make a person choose...this?” It was inconceivable, unimaginable.
Yaya had given her a long look before replying. “There are times when a man is trapped, marooned, cut off from civilization, maybe by a storm, a shipwreck or other unforeseeable and unfortunate event. He is tormented by hunger, the extreme cold, by the sheer hopelessness of his situation. He has to stay alive, to survive, and out of self-preservation, he commits murder. The first kill may be difficult for him, but the next one becomes easier. And soon, he finds himself enjoying the kill, the taste of human blood and flesh. He forgets that he was once human and becomes something else. Something not quite human, something evil.”
“To completely free it from its curse and corruption, the wendigo has to be destroyed by a human,” Yaya said. “There are not many humans in Wolves Hollow, Christine. And you are one of the strongest humans I have ever met.”
“Me?” Christine had squeaked in disbelief.
“You are raising a baby by yourself, running an entire inn without any help in a remote shifter town. I do know that love makes someone stronger, much, much stronger than they thought they could be. And you love deeply and powerfully, Christine.”
Yaya's words and faith in her had boosted her resolve and courage. Yaya believed in her. Her son depended on her. And Scott...he loved her.
Christine balled her fists and took a deep, fortifying breath.
She would fight the monster for her baby, her family, her town. This was where she was going to raise her child, her family, and she would make sure it was the safest place in the world.
“Okay.” Christine gritted her teeth and bounced on the balls of her feet. She refused to think about how scared she really was. “I can do this. I will finish this.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Scott stopped dead in his tracks. He held the gun out, his entire body rigid and still. He had one shot. And if he aimed right, one shot was all it took.
The black wolves parted for an instant, and Scott saw his opening. He didn't hesitate. He fired, hitting the Duskfall Alpha right between his eyes.
Grayson staggered up and his pale blue eyes met Scott's. The magnificent white wolf reared up and Grayson shifted back to human form. The shift helped him heal faster, and by the time Grayson straightened up, he had regained his strength. Grayson grabbed one of the black wolves and snapped its neck with his bare hands.
As the wolf dropped to the ground, the wolf shifted back to its human shape. Scott stared at the tall, dark-haired man at Grayson's feet, recognizing him as the man who had set Christine's inn on fire.
Scott pointed his gun at the man's head for a moment, before jerking his gun up to fire at two Duskfall wolves who were ch
arging towards him.
Scott whirled round and glared at the dead man. Fucking bastard had set fire to Christine's inn and tried to kill them! Scott wanted to put a bullet into the bastard's head and watch his face explode. But Grayson had already broken his neck and killed the piece of shit. The bastard was already dead. No point wasting a good bullet on a piece of trash.
Grayson raised his head and let out a long howl. The Sentinels stepped back and stopped fighting at their Alpha's command. The surviving Duskfall wolves shifted back to human form and faced the Sentinels. Scott could see the defiance and hatred in their eyes. They refused to surrender and would rather fight to the death.
Grayson glanced at Ari and her team. The team had formed a protective circle around the children and pregnant females of the Duskfall pack, keeping them out of the battle.
“Your Alpha, Beta and most of your lieutenants are dead,” Grayson said to what remained of the Duskfall pack. “But you don't have to die with them. You still have your family. Take your family, and the families of your fallen comrades, and leave Wolves Hollow.”
“We would rather die,” a young man spat at Grayson.
Scott moved towards the man but Grayson stopped him. “The battle is over. The Duskfall pack is no more. We won't kill you, but we won't allow you to stay in this town either. Leave.”
Grayson signaled to his lieutenants. “The Sentinels will escort you out of Wolves Hollow. You will leave Wolves Hollow alive. But if you return...you will be killed.”
Scott stood back as Ari and the other lieutenants stepped forward to surround the remaining Duskfall pack members and escort them out of the compound.
The Sentinels would make sure that they left town and never returned. It was for the best. If they stayed, the cycle of violence and vengeance would never be broken. The enmity between the two packs would only deepen and there would be more bloodshed and deaths. The Duskfall wolves couldn't remain in Wolves Hollow. This was the only way to put a stop to the war and the carnage.
Beta's Baby: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (Wolves Hollow Book 2) Page 8
