Beast Within (Loup-Garou Series Book 3)

by Sheritta Bitikofer

  He chuckled and brought his lips to her ears, muttering her name over and over with a lilting, almost musical voice.

  His breath tickled her skin, inducing a fit of giggles before she finally pushed away.

  Just as she did, Katey heard a strange sound like the sharp crack of a tree trunk being splintered somewhere in the forest behind them. The sound was followed by a shrill ping from the side of one of the boxcars. Logan cried out and grabbed his bicep.

  The scent of blood filled her nostrils, and Katey jumped to her feet as her heart began to pound out of her chest. Who else had followed them? Or was the vampire shooting at them?

  She heard a scuffle in the bushes. More blood was spilled, tainting the earthy scent of dried leaves, but Katey couldn’t make out the wrestling figures in the dense forest. There was a suppressed gurgle, and then utter silence, but who won?

  She looked back to Logan, whose shirt and hand were now soaked in the crimson blood that spilled down his arm and dripped from his fingertips.

  Logan growled at the pain. “Run!” he ordered as he stood and pushed her with his good elbow. His injured arm dangled limply against his side.

  Katey raced down the length of the steadily moving train, making sure that Logan was by her side the whole way.

  Logan took the lead and no longer held his arm, but she could still smell the fresh blood gushing from the wound along with a pungent odor of burnt flesh. They turned into the woods after they had almost caught up with the train and found their way back to the bike. There were no other vehicles parked along the road, but Katey could smell the vampire’s trail leading into the woods.

  Yet, there were no other scents, no tracks, nothing to make her think that someone else had followed. If the vampire had come out to harm them, then who was it that they struggled with? Unlike Logan or other loups-garous, she couldn’t yet distinguish blood between the different races.

  Without a word, they mounted and sped back down the county road without the headlights on. Katey was careful not to grip his injured arm, but so desperately wanted to ask him why it hadn’t healed yet. Upon closer inspection, there were two holes. One was for the entrance, the other for the exiting of the bullet. Around both holes, Logan’s skin had been singed as if someone had taken a lit match or hot iron and jabbed it into his skin.

  “Silver?” she whispered.

  Logan continued down the road, constantly checking behind them. It only took a few moments before a black pickup truck on big tires began to pick up speed behind them. She neither recognized the truck, nor could she explain why it pursued them so quickly.

  She tapped on Logan’s shoulder, but he didn’t need to be reminded to speed up. Breaking the limits of road safety, they were traveling at over one hundred miles per hour, and the truck was still roaring up on their tail.

  “Hang on,” Logan shouted and swerved around two cars who were going half their speed on the two-lane highway. The drivers blared their horns, but Logan refused to slow down.

  The truck was not deterred by the maneuvering and made to pass the other cars too. Katey glanced back to see the truck blocked off by an oncoming car. It slammed on its brakes before it could rear-end the cars in front of it. The truck began to fishtail and swerve out of control, buying them a few moments at least.

  They passed the Alabama border, and Logan looked along the tree line along the road. A slight break, just big enough for a bike to slip through, was coming up fast. Katey tightened her hold around his waist as he slowed the bike down and skidded through the opening.

  The path resembled a hiking trail, not meant for vehicles, but there was no way the truck would be able to follow them. The bike slowed so no displaced roots along the ground would send them flying.

  “Hunters?” Katey questioned.

  Logan didn’t speak but nodded as they crept upon a clearing. She looked ahead and saw the edge of the cemetery near Morrisville where Logan and Katey had once visited.

  Once off the bike and alone in the cemetery, Katey allowed herself to feel the fear and panic. The hunters were truly here, and Logan had been right all along. With every chance they took, they were truly putting themselves in danger. Even now, Katey wasn’t sure how safe the cemetery was.

  “Won’t they find us here?” Katey asked.

  Logan yanked off his helmet and bolted toward the graves. “I don’t know. We have to move fast,” he said, a string of firmness emerging in his voice that startled her.

  Katey followed, her legs wobbly and weak. “What are we doing here? Shouldn’t we go back to the house? The others are still there. We need to warn them!”

  She spoke as if they hadn’t been expecting this to happen as if the last week meant nothing but a false alarm. This was real. The bullet wound in Logan’s arm was real.

  “If the hunters were on our trail, it’s likely they followed us from the house,” he replied, weaving through the headstones, on a mission. “If they didn’t, we’d be leading them right to the pack.”

  The paralyzing dread slowed Katey’s steps. “What if they already got Darren and Ben? What about Dustin?”

  Logan was stone cold, his eyes not expressing the terror that gripped his heart as much as Katey’s. “We can’t think about that right now.”

  She nodded shakily as if trying to convince herself that everything was all right. “I’m sure they’re fine. Michael’s guards would have protected them, right?”

  Logan stopped at one grave and sat on his heels. “I’m sure they did,” he replied with a flat note as if he didn’t believe it.

  “Did you catch if the vamp took out the hunter back at the railroad tracks?” she asked as she watched him dig his fingers into the earth and pull out the sod and soil beneath.

  “I don’t know. I was a little preoccupied.” Katey crouched down to inspect his arm, but he jerked away. “It will heal. I need you to help me dig,” he snapped.

  She glanced at the gravestone. “Robert Croxen,” she muttered. “Wasn’t that the alpha in Devia?”

  “Yes. Now, please, dig.”

  Katey obeyed, clawing at the grass and dirt to keep herself occupied. If she stayed busy, then maybe she wouldn’t slip back into the panic that wanted to steal her resolve. After continuous glances toward the dirt road and forest around, they managed to get somewhere and plow through three feet of earth. They hit a solid surface, the lid of a long wooden chest.

  “Please tell me there isn’t a body in there?”

  Logan flipped open the lid to reveal a stash of various items. There was a cardboard box of vehicle tags from nearly all fifty states, a safe deposit box with the key lodged in the lock, boxes of men’s hair dye kits, duffel bags of clothing and nonperishable food items. Another smaller box contained motorcycle plates, and a bundle of fake IDs with identical pictures of Darren, Dustin, Ben, and Logan.

  With quick fingers, Logan grabbed one of the empty duffle bags and stuffed supplies inside.

  “A bug-out chest?” she questioned.

  He nodded as he tucked one of the license plates beneath his arm that was caked with dried blood. “Yes. We compiled all of this together just in case something like this were to happen. We didn’t have time to add some things in here for you.”

  He opened the safe deposit box and found wads of cash in the form of twenties and one hundred dollar bills. Logan grabbed some and shoved them in the bag just as a familiar scent came barreling toward them.

  Katey looked to the forest and saw a vamp approach, his dark clothes spattered in blood. Logan dropped the bag and turned to the vamp, a snarl curling his lips.

  The vamp held up his hands, which were visibly trembling. “I mean no harm. Do you require medical attention?” he asked, voice thick with a foreign accent that Katey would have assumed to be Polish or from some other Eastern European country.

  “It will heal,” Katey replied, repeating Logan’s words from earlier. “What’s going on?” she questioned, stepping in front of Logan before he attempted to lash out
at the vampire with his dirt-stained hands. He was wounded and afraid and wasn’t in the mood to play nice with others until they were on their way out of town.

  “We’ve discovered a few hunters hiding around town. We were able to dispose of a few, but more came. That’s who shot at you.”

  “Why didn’t you find him in the first place?” Logan spat.

  “I couldn’t smell him, and by the time I knew where he was, it was too late.”

  “You couldn’t smell him?” Katey asked, recalling the guy from the dance studio who had no scent. Her blood ran cold.

  “No,” the vamp replied. “None of our operatives have been able to detect the hunters by smell. We’ve seen them scouting around the homes of the werewolves who stayed behind.”

  “What about our house?” Katey asked hastily, her voice spiked with distress.

  “Michael is still there and hasn’t heard anything. I called him just a short while ago, and he said he would go out to check on your pack.”

  Katey covered her mouth, fighting back the sobs that wanted to rattle out. She hadn’t been this terrified since the incident in the castle. Even then, there was time to avoid the threat of death. Now, the threat was upon them, and it was open season on the loups-garous.

  “He wanted me to personally escort you out of town,” the vamp continued. “He will bring your things once we are sure that your pack is safe.”

  “How do we know you’re not the one who shot at us?” Logan accused as he stepped forward to stand beside Katey.

  The vamp pinched his shirt. “See for yourself. This is the blood of the hunter that shot you. He would have fired a second shot if I hadn’t killed him first.”

  Katey staggered backward and felt the back of her thighs collide with the top of the tombstone. Searching for anything to ground her in the present, Katey leaned against it and gripped the edge with her free hand.

  Logan sniffed the vamps’ shirt and nodded, nearly satisfied.

  “We have the convoy waiting outside of town. I’ll lead you there.”

  Katey watched Logan straighten and shake his head. “No. A large group will attract attention. We need to go alone.”

  “The hunters have already spotted your motorcycle. You need to change vehicles,” the vamp advised.

  He jerked his thumb toward the grave. “We have plenty of means to disappear. We’ll be fine without you guys for a while. There’s a safe house compound farther north of here. That’s where we’re going.”

  The vamp did not seem pleased. “Michael told me to bring you two to Louisiana. Even if you go alone, you should go there.”

  After she was sure she had gotten a hold of her sanity, Katey dropped her hand from her lips. “Louisiana?” she asked, voice quaking. “Why there?”

  “That’s where Michael is going, and he wants you close. He assures that you will be safe there.”

  Logan balled his dirty hands into fists. “We’ll be safer with our own kind, no offense.”

  The vamp’s brows creased together. “I must insist that you come with me. If you won’t do it willingly, then I’ll have to force you.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” Logan challenged, dominance billowing from him like a smokestack. The vamp couldn’t sense any of it. If the vampire - whose intentions were good - pushed any further, then there would be more bloodshed tonight, and Katey was having none of it.

  Pushing back her crippling fears, she stepped between them. “Stop it, Logan.” She looked to the vamp. “I trust my fiancé’s judgment. We’re going to the safe house where the other Devians are. Tell my grandfather that we’ll be fine and we’ll stay in contact with him. Do you have his number?”

  The vampire, disgruntled but accepting of Katey’s tenacity, nodded and recited the phone number. They weren’t likely to forget it. With a bow of his head, he dashed off into the woods within half an eye blink.

  Logan, muttering under his breath, returned to the grave and packed the rest of what they would need. Katey, taking advantage of her lucid moment, pulled out her cellphone and dialed Darren’s number. It wasn’t likely that he would answer, but at least she could let them know they were all right.

  She left identical messages for all three of them, notifying them of their plans to go to the safe house and that they would call when they arrived safely.

  When she was finished, Katey tightened her grip on her phone. “I really hope they’re safe,” she mumbled, more or less to herself.

  Logan wiped his brow on his muddy forearm. “I do too, but don’t think about it too much or you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

  There was logic in what he said. Katey could already feel her thoughts slip into a dark and destructive place. Images flashed in before her of mangled bodies, blood, and carnage. She could see in her mind’s eye, Darren’s body pierced with bullet holes and his eyes glazed over with death.

  A silent tear dripped down from her lashes as she stood there beside the grave. No, she couldn’t think of that now. She knelt beside Logan and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

  He paused in his packing and clutched her arm, offering as much comfort as he could at that moment. Katey glanced down to his injury and found the wound was slowly closing on both sides. They were both scared, both uncertain of what lay ahead, but at least they were together, and they were alive.

  Chapter Fourteen

  They had been driving for over three hours now, traveling north toward Birmingham, but slightly east to the Talladega National Forest. Nestled safely along the southern border of the forest was an abandoned military compound, complete with housing for the Devians and their families.

  Adrenaline had kept Logan awake for the first hour as he sped down the interstate with Katey hanging on behind him and the duffle bag laden down with their provisions slung over his shoulder. After that time, he had to keep himself awake with nothing but his own clashing thoughts.

  Why didn’t he hear the hunter in the woods? Why didn’t he smell him or sense his presence somehow? How could he have put Katey in such danger in the first place? He wanted privacy, but what he got was a nightmare. Yet, even if the hunter hadn’t shot him, would it have saved anyone the trouble?

  Darren and the others must have still been on their property, blissfully unaware that hunters were converging on the homes of those that stayed behind after the evacuations. Logan was not blind to their reservations that he had been wrong all along. Now, he had the last laugh, but it was a bitter victory. Thankfully, Michael’s men were capable of eliminating the threats. Would that be enough to stop the hunters?

  Regret, shame, and self-blame fought for prime focus in his mind. If he hadn’t been so foolish, perhaps they would have been on their way to Louisiana with Michael long before the hunters decided to strike. If he hadn’t been irrational and run off after he struck Dustin, they could have used those precious hours during his absence to flee Crestucky.

  Too many ifs and Logan couldn’t let the rampant emotions cloud his judgment. He had to stay focused. Any time a vehicle looked to be following them, he diverted off an exit ramp to ensure that it was just a coincidence. Once the car or truck passed, he reentered the highway, and they carried on. They didn’t stop for a break or for a meal. Both could endure sitting on this bike for several more hours without too much discomfort, but Logan thanked the stars that they wouldn’t have to.

  The wound in his arm had healed over nicely, though it took its sweet time in doing so. The searing, mind-numbing pain did not keep Logan from acting, but it did humble him. He had experienced silver before, but never internally as he just did. It was fortunate that the bullet didn’t stay lodged in his flesh. Otherwise, he might have had to plead for Katey to take it out before the silver contaminated his bloodstream.

  Occasionally, Logan could feel Katey’s arms slip down, and he had to buck his shoulder to keep her awake. He hated to force her to stay conscious, but short of tying her hands together around his waist, she needed to stay aware of herself until they co
uld arrive at the compound.

  He turned from AL-9 North onto AL-148 South and continued for several more miles until he found the road that led to the compound and turned north once more. The path was well-worn after several caravanning cars had plowed down the deserted service road.

  Logan slowed the bike down as they came upon the compound, but he felt no tingling sensation in the back of his skull that signaled the presence of other loups-garous. Instead, he was met with the pungent odors of vampires, black powder, blood, and burnt wood amongst the chaotic scents of old friends spread all around in the woods.

  Ahead, he saw the flashing red and blue lights of police vehicles and a few ambulances. Hurried voices of officers and medics echoed through the trees. The bike slowed to a crawl along the dirt road until he had to prop it up with his leg.

  Katey came to attention behind him and sat straight in her seat to see what was going on. Dread filled his chest like a painful poison. His mate was the first to dismount, her touch light as she slid her arms away from his torso. Logan hated the feel of the cold against his body where her warmth had once been.

  She slipped off her helmet and started off in a brisk jog toward the scene. Logan did the same and led the bike to the edge of the road, out of the way in case any other vehicles needed to make their exit.

  When they came closer and stayed within the safe shadows of the concealing trees, what Logan saw made his stomach churn. The compound was in smoldering piles of ash and rubble. All around were the lifeless bodies of men and some women. Police and investigators infested the site, sorting through the corpses and destruction to find an answer to the massacre.

  One thing was certain. These were not loup-garou bodies. They were human, but the blood of the loups-garous had stained the ground, as well as vamp blood. Yet, there were no bodies. In that, there was hope, but not much. With the amount of blood that was spilled, there would have been causalities on all sides.

  “What happened?” Katey whispered, her voice thick.

  Logan watched the scene of bustling officers, trying to piece together what they were saying.