The Huntress (Lupus Moon Book One)

by Kevin Sorrell

  She shook the thoughts from her mind. Tears mingled with sweat. She hated the loss of control, but it wasn't over yet. Alex's face SNAPPED. Her brow bulged. Her tongue lolled as her nose and lower face pressed forth into a muzzle. Her nose darkened and coarsened...

  Alex rose on digitigrade legs. She was shaky, unpracticed, like a newborn deer.

  Tristan beamed.

  Alex glanced down at her claws. Then at Tristan. She peeled her lips back into a contemptuous snarl--

  And pounced. Tristan sidestepped, but Alex landed, spun--and slashed his back. Tristan cried out, threw back a fist--

  Alex ducked. Dashed in and ripped Tristan's torso. Went for another blow. Tristan blocked, and Alex clawed his chest with her free hand. She pushed him back with a thrust kick, maneuvering on wolf legs coming back to her.

  Tristan regrouped and launched himself at Alex, but she met him with a flurry of punches, kicks, combinations, and parries--their battle silhouetted against the fully-engulfed mill.

  Alex ducked a swing, connected with a side kick. Tristan staggered. Alex rushed the beast and dropped into a slide that took her between his legs. She popped up on the other side and stomped out Tristan's left knee--

  Clawed a grid in his back. Tristan yelped and pressed up. He stumbled away. Alex charged once more and leapt for his back.

  Tristan swatted her out of the air! Alex landed hard, rolling several times. She struggled to get to her feet as Tristan neared. He waited until she rose fully to slash her across the chest! Alex crumbled.

  The beast eyed his prey. Raised his claws, already wet and stained with her blood, for the kill. KRISH!

  The remaining windows in the mill busted out as the structure itself groaned and cracked. The final support gave way and the building collapsed onto itself. Smoke and embers tumbled into the sky.

  Tristan turned. Alex drug herself away with one arm while the other clutched her torn chest. The monster stalked her, caught up to her, and clasped the back of her neck. He hoisted Alex in to the air, turned and brought her face to face--snout to snout. He snarled. Alex tore into his right eye in desperation.

  Tristan bellowed, hurled Alex at the crumbled bonfire. His throw was short; Alex hit the ground and rolled, stopped just short of the flames.

  The Magnum rested quietly in the grass nearby.

  Tristan swiped the blood from his destroyed eye. He located Alex, gnashed his fangs, and charged. Alex struggled to her hands and knees. She watched him come.

  And waited. The beast bore down. Alex still did not move. It wasn't until the last possible moment that she ducked out of his path and rolled to her feet. She readied her stance. Tristan skidded to a halt and turned--

  Alex nailed him with a spinning heel kick. He stumbled back, caught his foot caught against a broken plank, and toppled into the inferno. He howled and flailed amid the debris as the flames consumed him. He scrambled up and tore himself from the fire, but by then he was a living, lumbering torch. He spotted Alex. Rumbled after her.

  Alex backed away. She caught sight of the Magnum as it's shiny exterior bounced the fire's light into her eye. She scampered to it, spun, and aimed--

  BLAM! Tristan staggered, a fresh hole in his chest. He took another step--

  BLAM! His head snapped back and fell forward. Blood poured from his skull. He sank to both knees, fell forward in a burning, motionless heap.

  Alex panted as lowered the Magnum. She glanced at the remains of the ruined mill, stood tall against the cleansing light of the fire. Might as well. She threw her head back--

  Let out a long, victorious howl...

  FORTY-FOUR

  Reverend Richard Baines was laid to rest two days later. Mourners gathered at the side of the freshly-dug grave to pay their final respects. Some reached out a hand to touch the casket, while others said a silent prayer. Everyone spoke in hushed tones and took turns offering their condolences to Kristen, seated in the middle of the first of three rows of metal folding chairs erected for family. She was the only relative, however, so she sat alone, isolated--a young woman on an island unto herself. Neiland stood at the edge of the second row, hands clasped in front of his body, head hung low.

  Periodically, as she greeted others, Kristen glanced over her shoulder as if looking for someone. That person was never there. She had given up hope the object of her divided attention would ever appear until a woman leaned over to her husband and murmured something with enough sting of condescension to entice Kristen into yet another glance. There, in the distance, was Alex.

  Dressed in a short, black, hooded leather coat, tank top, jeans and boots, Alex looked like she was headed to a bar instead of a funeral as she neared the gathering with her hands shoved in her coat pockets. Kristen stood and approached Alex. They met several yards away from the outermost edge of those convened.

  "I didn't think you were coming," Kristen said.

  "I wasn't sure if you wanted me to," Alex replied. The two stared at each other, taking in the details of the other's face and being to better burn an image for memory's sake down the line. Alex took a deep breath, bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Kristen. I'm sorry I didn't save your father. If I could--"

  Kristen reached out a hand an touched Alex's arm. "I know," she said softly. Their eyes met. "Thanks for coming."

  Alex pushed a smile. She glanced up at the others. "Nice crowd."

  Kristen looked over her shoulder. "Yeah." She turned back to Alex. "Too bad he had to die to get all these people to come out. He would've loved to have this crowd for service."

  Alex drew her right hand from her pocket and laid it on Kristen's delicate shoulder. Kristen heaved a sigh.

  "Sorry."

  "No," Alex said. "You have every right to feel any way you do." Kristen nodded, placed her hand atop Alex's. She felt something strange and pulled Alex's hand away for a closer look. Her new nails had yet to grow all the way in after her transformation destroyed the previous set two nights prior--leaving the tips of her nail beds were exposed. Kristen's face scrunched with confusion--

  Alex snatched her hand away and jammed it back in her coat pocket. "You have some place to go?"

  The subject change wasn't lost on Kristen, but she chose to let it slide. Another question for another day. "I have an aunt and uncle in Houston," she said. "They want me to come and live with them."

  "Sounds good."

  "Except I don't want to go there," Kristen said. She looked away. Hesitated. Returned her gaze to Alex. "I want to go with you."

  "No way," Alex said as she shook her head. "Absolutely not."

  "Why not? We can work together. Kill a lot more of those things!"

  "Kristen--"

  "Look, I'm sorry about the stuff I said. You're nothing like the others."

  "I'm more like them than I care to be," Alex spat. She noticed Kristen's concerned stare, eased her tone. "But I'm working on it." Kristen nodded and buried her eyes in the lush grass under their feet. "Look, I'm in this life because I was drafted into it. I didn't have a choice. But you do, as well as other options." Kristen watched as Alex reached into an interior pocket of her coat and pulled out a folded slip of paper. She pressed it into Kristen's palm before stashing her hand in her coat pocket once more.

  "A man once told me that it's not your circumstances that define who you are, but what you do in those circumstances," Alex continued. She gestured to the paper. "That should give you every chance to define who you want to be--on your own terms.

  Kristen opened the slip. Her eyes damn near left her skull. In her hands was a check made out to her for three hundred thousand dollars. She looked up at Alex, stunned.

  Alex smiled. "You might not have a mom or dad here anymore, but you've got a big sister. Call me if you ever need anything." Kristen rushed in and threw her arms around Alex. Fresh tears streaked down her cheeks.

  "Thank you," Kristen muttered into Alex's chest. Alex returned the gesture, fighting back tears of her own. They separated as Neiland walked over.
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br />   "Detective. Come to make sure I leave your town for good?"

  "Actually, I came to thank you," Neiland said, "and apologize." He offered his hand. Alex glanced at it.

  "Don't worry. You were just doing your job, right?" She left him hanging.

  Neiland scoffed. He pulled his hand back, but Alex shot hers out and seized it. She offered him a teasing smirk as they shook.

  "I've been checking around for bites and scratches," he said. "So far, nothing. Looks like getting everyone off the streets helped."

  "I've done a few sweeps myself," Alex added. "Lycas tend to skip town once their alpha's been killed, so it's likely that any that survived are looking for a new place to settle. And if that's the case, I wanna be there to welcome them." She looked to Kristen. "Take care, kiddo." Kristen smiled. Alex nodded to Neiland and turned for her car, crouched atop a hill.

  "Hey," Neiland said as he reached out and touched Alex's leather-clad arm. She looked back at him. Neiland hesitated, then glanced over at Kristen. She wasn't moving. "I was, uh, wondering if maybe I'd ever see you again." Alex turned to face him. Amused. "It's just...your first visit to Weeping Springs was... I'd like to make it up to you."

  "Why Craig Neiland," Alex said in her best approximation of a deep South accent. "Are you asking me on a date?" Neiland fidgeted, looked away. He placed a palm on the back of his head. "I'm flattered. Really I am, but...it would never work."

  The rejection washed over Neiland from head to toe. His arm dropped. "Why?" He squinted, cocked his head at an angle. "Is it because I'm white?"

  "No."

  "Then what is...?" He trailed off. Alex responded with a simple look. "Oh."

  Alex smiled. She winked at Kristen, who was failing to stifle a giggle, then turned for her car.

  Sliding into the driver's seat, Alex glanced at herself in the rear view mirror. She took a deep breath and keyed the engine. The Corvette roared to life. She dropped the car into gear and cast a final glance at Kristen and Neiland, then pressed her sole against the accelerator.

  The Corvette kicked up dust as it sped off to the main road leading out of the cemetery, and eventually, out of Weeping Springs. As she blazed into the morning sun, Alex remembered the package that was waiting on her at her next stop--a fresh batch of her powdered compound. After that, she'd do a little traveling south of the border--

  She'd heard some strange things were going on in Yucatán...

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