Patterson very deliberately swallowed the stringy piece of flesh he’d torn from Victor. It didn’t disgust Victor, it pissed him off.
Patterson took a few slow steps back, and for a moment his eyes got brighter. “We don’t have to fight. We could go and kill everything. We’re the same.”
“Not the same,” Victor growled. Patterson had let the creature take over and he was no better than a nasty. Victor still had enough control to hold back the worst of his instincts. Whatever else he was, he was still part human thanks to Claire.
On all fours, Victor charged. At the last second, he turned aside, jaws open wide and ripped into Patterson’s side. Patterson turned and howled, lashing out. Victor danced away, but claws sliced into his leg and he stumbled. With a quick roll, he avoided Patterson’s next attack as several areas of his body now competed for most painful. He was healing, but not fast enough.
They fought for several minutes, a flurry of teeth and claws. Victor had a dozen new wounds and he’d gotten Patterson just as good. Then Patterson got lucky as Victor took a misstep and almost fell. Patterson darted in, slamming his shoulder against him before he could regain his balance. Victor went down and Patterson was on him, teeth sinking into his shoulder as the alt’s claws sank into his side. He yowled as the claws caught against his ribs, and Patterson pulled, flipping Victor onto his back.
Victor brought his free hand up, waiting a critical half second to see if he should use it to protect his throat or to try and attack Patterson. Patterson’s head came up. Going for the neck then. He got a good view of Patterson’s teeth in that too-wide mouth, sharp as a shark’s teeth and dripping with Victor’s blood. Then Patterson jittered, and the look in his eyes went from triumph to surprise and pain. Patterson yanked his claws out of Victor and rolled away.
Bullets, yes. Someone had shot him. It took Victor a few seconds to clear his head and get onto all fours. The first thing he saw was Claire with her gun up. The second was Patterson heading straight for her. “Claire!” His body screamed a protest as he forced it to run, all the wounds in his body rising to a chorus. It didn’t matter how hurt he was.
She set her jaw and fired at the charging alt. Bullets ripped into Patterson, and one of them was a clean head shot. Patterson kept coming. He got within a few feet of Claire before Victor collided with him. Impact…falling…the even harder impact of the ground. He heard snapping and felt a white-hot flare of pain. At least one bone broken. His left arm or a rib, he couldn’t tell because they both hurt so much. The momentum carried them into a roll and Patterson’s heavy body went over him, bringing another flare of pain.
The roll ended with Victor on top, but he couldn’t immediately take advantage of his position. Pain blurred his vision, and all he could do was lean over his enemy and try to breathe. When it eased a little, he saw Patterson was in worse shape. The gunshot to his head was just above his right eye, and although it hadn’t stopped his charge, it had done serious damage. In a few more minutes that and his other injuries might kill Patterson, but Victor wanted to be sure. He opened his jaws wide and went for Patterson’s throat.
There was still some fight in the former soldier. Patterson brought both his hands up and shoved against Victor’s chest. He made rough, low noises that might have been words. There was a whistle in his breathing that said punctured lung. A tiny flicker of sympathy went through Victor before the monster side of him demanded he finish it. Patterson tried, but he just didn’t have any strength left. His arms buckled and Victor’s jaws closed around his neck. A hot jet of blood filled Victor’s mouth, and he clamped down tighter until things snapped under his teeth. He jerked back, taking half of Patterson’s throat with him.
He stumbled off the body, his arms and legs wobbly. Rib broken, definitely, because his left arm worked. Claire stepped up next to him and put three bullets into Patterson’s head. “Just to be sure,” she said. Then she turned and her face filled with concern. “Are you okay?”
He tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. “Hell, no.”
A little wrinkle formed between her brows. “You know what I mean.”
He shifted his jaw back to human. “Not gonna die.” He licked blood from his lips.
“Good, ’cause I could never find another partner to live up to you.” The corner of her mouth turned up.
He wanted to kiss her but didn’t dare, not when he was covered in blood from alts and nasties. The main lights came back on, flooding the yard. A group of four soldiers hurried toward them.
“How many are left?” He was exhausted and in no shape to fight, but he had to know.
“None,” she said. “They killed another one down in the second basement, one more on the main floor. The other two were killed out here, plus Patterson. That’s all of them.”
He sagged and let out a little sigh. “It’s over, then.”
One of the soldiers heading for them broke away and jogged double time until he reached Claire. They started talking, but Victor didn’t hear the words. He sat back on his haunches and wondered if he could curl up and sleep for a while, just until it stopped hurting so much. No, it was too exposed out here. He needed a den. He took a slow step toward the lab. He didn’t know if he’d be able to find a room with a bed in there that wasn’t torn to pieces, but he had to try. “Gonna go inside,” he muttered. With slow steps, he went past Patterson’s body.
“Victor!”
He whipped his head around, pain screaming through his body. It happened in maybe three seconds, but everything seemed to move in slow motion. He saw Claire running toward him, saw one of the soldiers with his rifle up and pointed at him, saw the hard look on his face as he pulled the trigger. The last second burned into his memory—Claire stopping in front of him with her hands held out, yelling for the solider not to shoot. Then the bullet hit and she flew back, her body crumpling to the ground.
Victor’s world shattered.
In a flash, he thought of her dead, thought of life without her. A huge void opened inside him. It would be so easy to fall into it and never come out. Grief and despair and rage filled him, and it was the rage that drove him forward. The other two guards were wrestling the gun away from the man who’d shot Claire, but that wasn’t enough. Victor was going to kill him, rip him to pieces while the man screamed. His claws ached to sink into the man’s flesh and make him pay. He covered half the distance between them in the blink of an eye. From deep down, a voice screamed at him to stop.
Don’t prove them right!
Because he knew why the soldier had shot at him, the reason Claire was on the ground, maybe dead. It wasn’t because the man had mistaken him for a threat. It was because he believed Victor needed to be put down. No matter that Victor had helped them and showed no signs of breaking down like the others had. No, the soldier wanted to end him simply for what he was. If Victor killed him, he would prove the soldier right and the others might decide he deserved to be put down like a rabid dog.
Like someone that had been infected.
A few feet away from the soldier, Victor stopped. Trying not to kill him hurt. The other soldiers got the gun away from him as he shouted that it needed to be killed. So close, and everything but that small voice screamed at Victor to kill him, kill the motherfucker that shot Claire. Claire, Claire. Is she dead? Holding back made him want to scream, and a low hurt noise vibrated through his body.
The soldier was shouting, the other two were shouting and all of them finally realized how close he was. The three of them turned to stare, and one of them gripped her gun a little tighter. Don’t prove them right. The human voice inside him, the piece Claire had kept from being buried. “He shot Claire,” he told the voice and the soldiers standing there. Victor’s body trembled. He wanted to kill the man so bad.
The woman holding the shooter’s gun said, “We’ll take him inside.” She stank of fear. All of them did. A shudder went through him. It would be so easy to tear them all apart. The other soldier twisted the shooter’s arms a
round behind his back.
“He’ll kill us!” the shooter said. “He’ll kill all of us.”
I want to. I want to kill all of you so bad.
“Victor?”
He knew that voice instantly and whirled around. Claire lay where she’d landed. The soldier she’d been talking to stood over her, shouting for a medic. Victor was at her side in a few quick strides. “Claire?”
She turned to look at him and his rage evaporated. She was alive. Alive.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Me?”
“Did he shoot you?”
“No.” He reached out to touch her face and paused. His claws were still covered in blood. “Are you…how bad?”
She smiled, although her face was tight with pain. “Not gonna die.”
He searched her body and found the bullet hole in the right side of her chest. “You sure?” His voice shook. Not her heart, but there were plenty of other things that could go wrong.
Doubt flickered across her face. “I’m pretty sure. It hurts like hell, but I don’t feel like I’m dying.” She took a deep breath and winced. “But just in case, I better tell you…I love you.”
It broke his heart and warmed it at the same time. “Love you, Claire.” He fought the urge to kiss her. She brought her left hand up to cup his cheek and he nuzzled against it.
A man with a bright red cross on his arm knelt beside her. “Give me some room.” Victor scooted aside and the medic began removing her armor.
Victor waited all of five seconds before he asked, “She all right?”
“Too soon to say.” He poked at Claire’s wound. “I think the bullet lodged in her rib.” Then he squinted at Victor. “Do you need some help? You look like shit.”
“I’ll be fine. Just take care of her.” He was in a lot of pain, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered but making sure Claire was safe.
“That’s my job.” The medic turned back to her as someone carried over a stretcher.
Claire grabbed Victor’s arm and squeezed it. “I’ll be fine.”
“You better be.”
They loaded her on the stretcher and carried her to the building. Victor followed and nothing they did or said kept him from staying by her side.
Chapter Eleven
Victor nuzzled her again and she pushed him away with a laugh. “We have to be serious. No lovey stuff in front of the recruits. This is business.”
“I know. Just needed to touch you again.” He loved to touch her. A nuzzle, or a brush of shoulders, or brief touch of her face. That was when they were out. In here, when they were alone, they sometimes made love for hours. Victor took a breath. The apartment still smelled like the sex they’d had just after dawn. They were up late to meet the new recruits. Well, volunteers. It was up to him and Claire if they would actually join the program.
She rolled her eyes, but he knew she liked it. “Come on.”
He followed her out of the apartment they shared. It was one of the concessions Alston had made. Victor, and by extension Claire, had saved him from having to admit to the brass that the program was a failure. Yes, the escape of Patterson and the others, and all the chaos they had caused was a huge clusterfuck, but the program wasn’t a complete failure. Victor had proven the alts could be a very valuable weapon if they could manage to become mentally stable. The problem was finding people that had a high chance of having that stability. Patterson had broken down, even though he was discipline through and through. Victor had figured it out when they got a full report on the escape. The alt he’d seen killed in his cell had been Westerfield. One of the guards that shot him down had reported he put up no fight until they actually started shooting him. He hadn’t run out to join the escape as the others had. Just as Victor had stayed in his cell while everyone else was breaking out.
Westerfield had a son, and when Victor heard that, he’d made the connection. Both he and Westerfield had something to hold onto, someone to love, to give them an anchor to their human side. If they could find recruits with those kinds of connections, a loved one to give them a reason to fight for their humanity, then they would have a good chance of being able to control themselves.
As they walked down the hall to the elevator, he caught a whiff of her nervousness. A lot was riding on this batch of recruits. The people they chose had to be stable, had to prove successful in the field or the brass might revisit their decision to let Victor live. “We’ll be fine. I know what to look for.”
“I hope so.”
Victor gave her a quick kiss as they stepped into the elevator. “Don’t worry.”
They went down one floor to the room where they’d get their first look at the volunteers. Like Victor, they came in knowing what they were volunteering for. These men—and possibly women—had to be hardcore to volunteer for this. Not an attempt at a cure, although the scientists were still working on that, but a deliberate choice to become an alt like Victor, to become a weapon against the nasties.
When they walked in, all eyes turned to watch them, especially Victor. It was time to find the weak ones and get them out of here, then he would bring the rest down to the pens tonight to show them what he could do. Then interviews with Claire to find out the personal stuff, to see if they had a connection strong enough to hold onto their humanity.
“So you want to become me? A half-nasty freak of nature?” He walked down the row of men, and yes, there were two women among them. “A living weapon against the nasties. It drove ten out of a dozen of us insane, and I’m the only one left. You really want to take that risk?” He got to the second to last and caught a very interesting scent. Victor stopped and took a deep breath. The man watched him with a carefully neutral expression, but he caught a hint of fear. That wasn’t all though, the man smelled like…
He took another deep breath to make sure. Yes, definitely. He looked at the man’s name stitched across the front of his uniform. “Everson. Just got off the night shift?”
“Yes, sir.” There was another hint of fear. He was afraid Victor had found him out, and he had. He’d have to get Everson alone soon and have a nice long conversation, but for now…
Victor turned to the scientist standing off to the side with a clipboard. “This one. I want him in the program.”
The scientist blinked but wrote down the name.
Later, when they were heading back to their apartment, Claire asked, “Why him? You were so sure.”
“Because he’s like you. In love with something he shouldn’t be. And like me, that’ll give him something to hold onto.” Victor wanted to meet Everson’s female werewolf too. He could bet she’d have some things to teach them. She might even be able to help with the program.
“What do you mean something?”
“I think he should tell you himself. I don’t want to out him. It’s…if anyone else finds out what I know, it might mean his life. So be careful.”
She gave him a long look. “You’re making me crazy curious, but yeah, I’ll be careful.”
“This is gonna work. We’ll find others like Everson and Westerfield, others like me, and we’ll show the brass we’re the best weapons they have. Us and people like you. Strong enough to keep us under control.”
“And crazy enough to love you?” she smiled. “If the program works, this glory hound will finally get her glory.”
“And they all lived happily ever after,” he said with a smirk.
“In this world?”
“Why not?” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I found you right when I needed you the most. This world isn’t out of miracles. It’s been shitty enough, but there’s hope left. It might take a while, but we can win. Unlikely, but not impossible.”
She frowned at him like she was going to argue. Then she shrugged. “Sure, why not? After everything we’ve been through, we’re still here. So why not hope?”
“That’s the spirit.” He kissed her. “Now let’s get some sleep. We’ve got things to kill tomorrow.”
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br /> About the Author
Devin Harnois writes about the strange and fantastic, loves skulls and lives in Minneapolis with a lazy cat and a wild imagination.
Find Devin on the web at www.devinharnois.com, on Twitter: @devinharnois, or send an email to [email protected].
Look for these titles by Devin Harnois
Now Available:
Love & Monsters
Darkness at Dawn
Letting her live was bad enough. Wanting her is much worse.
Darkness at Dawn
© 2012 Devin Harnois
Love & Monsters, Book 1
Richard Everson has seen too many people die, killed by the nightmare creatures that have overrun the world. Every night he leaves the protection of the walled to hunt the nasties alone. He likes his job. Maybe a little too much.
By day, Jennifer lives in her human skin. By night, the wolf takes over, a legacy forced upon her by the nasties who made her one of them. Everson is a tenuous link to what’s left of the human world. Despite the danger to them both, she hungers for his touch.
Each encounter sends the heat spiraling higher, until it burns away all control. And Richard realizes too late his heart has crossed a line punishable by death…
Warning: This book contains strong language, nightmarish creatures, a violence-loving hero, a very naked woman, werewolves, forbidden desire, and post-apocalyptic monster-killing mayhem.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Darkness at Dawn:
There were still things out, lurking in the shadows. Everson felt them, but nothing hassled him as he made his way down the street. Sometimes he wondered if the nasties had shifts like the force did and left him alone after sunrise because they were off duty.
He walked through a section of small buildings, two-story brick structures that had once been small businesses—a coffee shop, a convenience store, a flower shop. Everson was a little too relaxed, a little too thoughtful. Mornings were deceiving. When he passed the space between two buildings and saw movement, he stopped dead. His gun came up as a reflex and he stared into the alley, braced for attack.
Taming the Darkness: Love & Monsters, Book 2 Page 11
