Lycan Moon: An Urban Fairy Tale (Lycan Evolution Book 1)
Page 26
Mason had been here.
Only question was, where the hell was he now?
A tiny spear of worry began to form in the back of his mind that the whelp simply wasn’t here, that it was somewhere out hunting. After all, that’s what wolves at the height of the full moon did. He’d never met any that had the willpower to do otherwise.
But there was still what John had said. That he’d heard Mason’s growls from his friend’s phone, as if the wolf lover had him under surveillance. That was unlikely to be the case if he was running free. So that meant there was likely someplace on the grounds where the wolf could be secured and kept watch over. Clever. Fucking dangerous as all hell, but clever. Almost like something out of a movie.
After ensuring that the upstairs was clear, they made their way back down to see if their cohorts had found anything. But all they found was silence waiting for them.
♦ ♦ ♦
There was no sign of the others, something which immediately set Kane on alert. John could tell as much by the way he tensed up. Mark of a true amateur, as far as he was concerned. He’d been at this game long enough to trust his gut and his senses.
His gut was telling him the whelp hadn’t struck yet and his senses reinforced that thought. He might have been getting old, but he wasn’t deaf. They’d heard nothing while upstairs – not so much as a squirrel scrabbling across the roof. In this empty place, any scuffle would have been hard to miss. Wolves were masters of ambush, but they weren’t all that subtle once they attacked. And that was assuming the two idiots they’d left down here didn’t get any shots off first – an unlikely scenario at best.
Hell, if those two fools had been taken out that easily and silently by a whelp, then John would have been glad to find their blood-soaked corpses. Would probably piss on their bodies, too, to let them know what he thought of them. The Guild was supposed to weed out anyone that pathetic before they got a chance to meet an early grave.
He took a sniff of the air. There was a distinct musty odor about the place. Plaster dust, a hint of aftershave – although whether it was from those two muttonheads he couldn’t tell. That was it, though. No acrid discharge from expended rounds, and none of the familiar coppery scent of blood.
“Come on,” John said, taking the lead.
He was certain that those two morons were fine, but that didn’t mean he was going to be stupid about it. Ten minutes later, after a slow and thorough search from room to room, they entered the kitchen where they found Buck and Hammer.
“Oh, hey guys,” Buck said upon seeing them. “Find anything upstairs?”
“Maybe,” Kane replied warily. “No wolf, but evidence that someone was here recently.”
“Yeah, we found that, too. Check it out.” He opened the refrigerator. While the power appeared to be off, a cool draft still wafted from within. There wasn’t a lot, but what food was present didn’t appear to be spoiled. “There’s no doubt someone’s been here.”
John turned and spotted a half-eaten sandwich on the counter in front of Hammer. “You don’t say.”
“What?” the younger man asked. “It was a long ride up. Besides, it’s not like this fucker is gonna need it tomorrow.”
“Too bad it wasn’t smart enough to leave any beers behind,” his partner joked.
“All right, enough games. Let’s keep looking,” Kane said, but John wasn’t having any of it.
He stepped up to Hammer ... gah, it was all he could do to keep his eyes from rolling straight out of his head at this jackass’s stupid name. “You think this is a game, boy?”
Hammer scoffed at the threat and reached for the sandwich. When he did, John drew his knife, quick as a flash, and drove it through the bread and into the counter with a dull thud.
“What the fuck, you crazy bastard?”
John stepped into his personal space and locked eyes with him. “I may be a crazy bastard, but I’m a live crazy bastard, and do you know why? Because I don’t do stupid shit like this!”
“It’s just ...”
“Food that’s owned by a whelp.”
“What? You think it’s got germs or something?”
“Use the few brains that God gave you, you fucking idiot. You ever think it might be drugged or poisoned, purposely left so some damn fool could find it.”
Hammer gulped visibly, but held his ground. “Bullshit. No wolf is smart enough to...”
“They’re only wolves one day out of the month. The rest of the time they’re wearing man suits. Talking like us, thinking like us. And this one knew we were coming. Put two and two together, you brainless hunk of shit, and pray that you’re not vomiting up your own insides in the next hour.”
The two men stared hard at each other, but the younger one blinked first. He turned to the rest. “Kane?”
John followed his gaze, but Kane’s face was unreadable. What happened next would matter a great deal. If Kane sided with his buddies, that would cement in his mind that the man was both dangerous and a fool. If so, he’d call off the hunt and leave these assholes to get themselves killed if they so pleased. Much as he wanted to kill the bastard whelp that had somehow gotten into his daughter’s head, he wasn’t stupid. John had only a couple of rules he lived by, but they were unbreakable. One of them was he didn’t put his ass on the line for cowards or idiots. He hadn’t with his wife, and he sure as shit wouldn’t start with this bunch.
After a beat, however, Kane said, “He’s right. You two need to get your fucking act together. If that whelp had been the one to step into this kitchen instead of us, you two would be lying in a pool of your own innards and you’d deserve it.”
John allowed himself the ghost of a smile. Maybe the man had potential after all.
Either way, it meant the hunt would continue.
He opened his mouth to tell the other two to start sweeping the east wing when there came a sound from further in the mansion. It wasn’t much, maybe just some debris settling, but his instincts told him differently.
“You hear that?”
Kane nodded.
“Mice?” Buck offered.
A moment later, the sound turned into a full-on crash, as if a wall had been knocked down. It was followed by a low-pitched braying, a noise that echoed in the derelict mansion and seemingly came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
“Awfully big mice,” Kane said with a grin.
John nodded and retrieved his knife from the counter. “Well, then it’s a good thing we’re here to do some exterminating.”
35
The wolf, finally freed of its prison, stepped through the opening it had made. The air here was fresher, and it took a deep breath, its wet nose capturing every scent.
It stopped, alert, as the odor of humans washed over its olfactory system. It took in their scents in the space of a second: blood, sweat, adrenaline, all of it. Their anticipation, excitement, and fear, all layered upon each other in a distinct and almost delicious aroma.
Prey was near, was in such close proximity it could almost taste their flesh. The need for freedom was almost overpowered by the primal urge to hunt. A large rope of drool dripped from its mouth as it sniffed the air again. More than one – three or four, by the variety of scents. They were grouped together, coming in from the right, getting closer.
It carefully climbed over the debris on the floor, instinct telling it to remain quiet. It was a master at stealth, its eyes built for darkness and the shadows, its ears attuned to the slightest movements, its nose keen at detecting changes in the atmosphere.
The longer it smelled them, the less appetizing they seemed. It preferred fresher smelling prey, and these smelled like they’d been marinating in sweat beneath artificial scents meant to mask their true odors.
There was something else as well. A familiar scent. A brief thought flashed through its mind, the sleeping intelligence within it battling against the primitive instincts which currently ruled this body – well-oile
d metal. No ... weapons.
Though it refused to acknowledge fear and the weakness associated with it, it recognized the need for caution.
There came a slight shuffle of sound and the scents changed. The group was breaking apart, splitting up, perhaps attempting to surround it. The wolf moved away from them, flattening itself against the wall. It knew the layout of its surroundings, a remnant memory informing it of the best places to hide.
It didn’t want to hide, though. It wanted to feel the night air, to escape the stale confines of the house, to run through the trees. That was its domain. Not these cramped confines.
The wolf needed to get out, but it also wished to avoid these beings.
It moved from room to room, staying hidden in the shadows. The buried consciousness within gave name to the places it passed through, although it did not care. There was an access hall to the kitchen, and then a back door. The hall would provide some cover of darkness, and through the kitchen was freedom.
But that was where the other beings were coming from. There was another exit in the front – further away, but potentially more accessible.
It crept across the ballroom, quieting its breathing and, with it, dulling the scents inhaled with every breath. The beings were near and closing in, and it knew that in order to survive, it needed to move quickly toward escape.
Its claws clicked on the hardwood floor of the ballroom, the sound like gunshots in the silence. The other mind within it offered a suggestion, one alien to the wolf, but perhaps the wiser course.
It lifted its toes and walked upon the balls of the feet of its hind legs, an awkward stance that left it off-balance, but greatly reduced the noise it had been making across the polished surface.
Had it a sense of ego, it might have realized how ridiculous it looked trying to sneak as it was, but the only thing on its mind was freedom, to feel the wind rush through its fur as it ran unhindered and unchallenged.
It reached the doorway and hesitated. There, beyond the stairs, lay the front door. Best yet, it was open. The intruders – yes, they were intruders, for this was its lair, or at least the den of its other form – had been foolish and it would use that to its advantage.
The others were close, dangerously so, but so was freedom. It was too tempting a prospect to pass up. There wouldn’t be another chance this good.
The wolf crouched, putting all four of its paws upon the ground. What it would lose in reach and ability to kill, it would make up for in speed.
Now!
The beast bolted forward with everything it had, the door and the open yard beyond it growing closer by the second.
Movement registered in its periphery and with it came a cry of challenge from one of the intruders.
Though it wanted to be outside, perhaps more than anything else, instinct reared to life inside its mind, forcing it to stop short, its claws skidding across the floor just as there came a thunderous explosion from off to the side.
Something small and hot cut the air immediately in front of it and slammed into the wall with a hollow thud.
Run!
The voice screamed at it from its own subconscious, but it didn’t need to be told.
It abruptly shifted direction toward the stairs, leapt, and cleared the bannister as more shots rang out behind it.
Anger replaced caution as it scrabbled up to the first landing and continued into the darkened hallway. It had only wanted freedom, would have left the intruders alone had it been given the chance, but they’d attacked it. The acrid stench of their weapons was still fresh in its sensitive nostrils.
They were here to do battle, to challenge its dominance, but they were small and weak ... easy prey.
So be it.
If these creatures were so eager to die then it would gladly rip them to pieces. All thoughts of escape fled its mind as it began to anticipate the hunt to come.
It heard their voices below, piteous mewling. Soon they would follow. And when they came, it would be ready for them.
♦ ♦ ♦
“Goddamned idiot!” John hissed at Buck.
“I thought I had a clear shot.”
“That’s yer problem. You thought.”
It was almost too tempting to kick the younger man’s ass. This should have been over already. One shot to the wolf’s heart, quick and clean. Yet this asshole had acted too soon, hadn’t stopped to steady his hand.
This whelp wasn’t stupid, not like others he’d faced in the past. Rather than turn and charge them, which would have made up for Buck’s stupidity, it had instead fled deeper into the house, racing upstairs as if the devil were on its heels. Now they’d have to flush it out, a cornered animal, easily twice as dangerous as it had been just a few seconds earlier.
John heard footsteps from off to their left.
Instinct taking over, he stepped in and forced Buck’s gun barrel down as the bigger man turned and brought it up.
“Knock it off,” he warned. “You trying to ventilate your own buddies?”
Sure enough, Kane and Hammer stepped into the room, their own weapons at the ready.
Maybe I should’ve let him open fire. Fifty-fifty chance of him hitting the idiot with the stupid name.
“What happened?” Kane asked, his eyes taking stock of everything at once. “You two okay?”
“Five by five,” Buck replied, whatever the fuck that meant.
“We’d be a lot better if my partner here had been aiming at the whelp instead of that wall over there.
“Anyone could have missed that.”
“But anyone didn’t. You did.”
“All right, enough,” Kane said, stepping between them. He turned to John. “Back off. You’ve been riding these guys all night.”
John refused to lower his gaze. “Sorry, friend, but I come from a time when respect was earned, not given. And so far, I ain’t seen much done in that way.”
As far as he was concerned, he’d given it a shot. He didn’t have a problem when Kane suggested they split up to cover more ground. That was standard procedure. Smart, too. But he should have known better when he got teamed up with Buck. He’d have been better off alone. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“Where did it go?” Hammer asked, breaking the standoff.
John pointed a finger up.
Kane nodded grimly at first, but then smiled knowingly. John knew he was smarter than the two lug-heads he’d brought along as ballast. They’d already cased the upstairs, knew its layout.
They might have missed their first shot at the wolf, but there was no chance of it hiding from them now.
♦ ♦ ♦
Ro didn’t recognize the SUV sitting outside the gate of the mansion, parked on the side of the road, but she didn’t need to. That it was here was all she needed to know. She parked Coop’s car behind it, making it a point to take the keys with her.
She checked her phone’s tracker app – no one but her in range – then slashed the other vehicle’s tires, taking the time to get the spare, too. Whoever was here, they could enjoy hoofing it back to wherever they’d come from. Maybe a nice long walk in the night air would be enough for Kane and her father to clear their heads.
The temptation to charge in was great, but she knew she couldn’t be stupid about this. Rushing in wouldn’t save Dean. If anything, it might get her shot instead.
She had to take this slow, cautious. She needed to treat the hunters out there like any other wolf she might otherwise be stalking.
Resisting every urge she had, she stepped through the gate and examined the dirt on the ground around it.
Four sets of prints.
That bastard Kane had somehow convinced the Guild to give him the backup he was supposed to be getting for Los Colmillos. What a joke. Four hunters tracking one wolf, especially compared to the prize they could have had.
If she hadn’t been so worried for Dean, she might have felt embarrassed for them.
36
Kane signaled the two others to take the bedroom on the left while he checked out the rooms on the other side. This whole hunt was starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth. He and John should have been conducting this sweep, leaving Buck and Hammer to wait downstairs for them to flush the wolf out.
At the same time, he could understand the old man’s reluctance. He’d seen just enough when they’d entered the foyer to know how close Buck had come to opening fire on them. He was beginning to think that asking for backup on this one had been a mistake – too many hunters in too closed off a space. He’d worked with John before, but the other two lacked the cohesiveness or instincts of a team.
Those two were lone wolves, so to speak – effective on their own but too likely to trip over their own two feet when paired off. Still, it was a bit late for bellyaching. He couldn’t very well send them back to wait in the car, not without catching major shit about it from the Guild.
The small bedroom was clear. So was the adjoining bathroom. Damn mansions. The wolf could be in any of half a dozen rooms up here, not to mention closets or other nooks and crannies. His skin tingled harder than ever, though, which meant their prey was still here. It hadn’t jumped out a window or anything.
That made sense. Whelps typically didn’t run unless they were seriously injured, usually well past the point where they could make an effective escape. That this one had tried to go for the door rather than hunt them down was odd, but ultimately it didn’t matter. It was a whelp and he was a hunter. His job was to kill these fucking monsters, not psychoanalyze them. Besides, there was Ro to think about. She was somehow connected to this thing, and that couldn’t be allowed to stand. The Guild didn’t suffer wolves to live, and they took pretty much the same view on any hunters insane enough to go native.
The creak of a floorboard somewhere behind him interrupted his thoughts and he spun, gun at the ready.