Lycan Moon: An Urban Fairy Tale (Lycan Evolution Book 1)

by Rick Gualtieri

  The knife, however, still flew free from Kane’s hand. It tumbled end over end toward her, slamming butt-first into her shoulder just as she squeezed off a shot.

  Her aim was knocked off center and she had the barest of moments to open her eyes in horror before the propane tank connected to the burners on the table exploded in a fireball.

  A wall of oven-hot air slammed into her, almost knocking her off her feet. She looked up, stinging tears in her eyes, in time to see the chemicals pooling on the table ignite, engulfing Kane before he could recover.

  The hunter screamed and tried to beat out the fire which was already rapidly spreading across his upper body, but Ro could see it was a futile effort.

  His cries became high-pitched and unintelligible as another wave of heat hit her, bringing with it a wall of fumes which seared her throat and left her coughing uncontrollably.

  They needed to get out of there before this place became their tomb.

  “Dean!” Ro managed to cough out. She dropped to her knees to try to avoid the worst of the smoke and saw him. He lay on the ground, unmoving, his fur beginning to smoke and sizzle.

  At first she despaired, but then Ro realized he was still in his wolf form. If so, he was alive, but she didn’t know for how much longer.

  She eyed her father in the haze, but knew she had no chance of moving him with her injured arm.

  “Dean!” she called again, crawling to him and shaking his wide shoulders. “You’ve got to wake up. Come on.” No movement. “Please! I can’t do this without you ... I can’t do any of this without you.”

  And in that moment, she realized it was true. Whatever lay ahead of them, their lives were now entwined. But first they had to escape this inferno.

  Dean stirred, coughed, and then his eyes opened. Ro could have cried for joy, but there was no time. He shook his head as if to clear it, then to her utter relief, began to push himself up.

  She grabbed hold of his arm. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.” He turned toward the stairwell, indicating that she follow, but she stopped him. “My dad,” she said imploringly. “I can’t leave him.”

  Dean’s teeth pulled back in a snarl, but it was only for a moment and then he was on the move – slow, unsteady, but alive. He lifted her father’s still limp form from the floor, hoisted him over his shoulder, and turned back toward the door.

  Ro stood to follow, moving to the wall opposite the flames, where Dean’s computer desk sat, but before she could get more than a few steps she noticed something she hadn’t before ... something small, insignificant, easy to miss. It was stupid of her, but she got the feeling it might be important and, as a hunter, her father had taught her to follow her gut.

  That done, she covered her nose and mouth as best she could and ran.

  There was no more time to waste. Something else exploded in the room just as she stepped into the stairwell. Kane cried out again from somewhere behind her, hidden from view by the smoke, but it was rapidly drowned out by the roar of the fire.

  I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.

  It was the only eulogy she had time for. She turned without further hesitation and began to climb as if her life depended on it.

  A few more screams rose up behind her before falling quiet at last. No matter. She had a feeling she would continue to hear them in her dreams for a long time to come.

  41

  The smoke followed them up the stairs and became thick, black, and greasy, no doubt fueled by the myriad chemicals burning down below. The mansion was old and in questionable repair. It was probably only a matter of minutes at most before the entire building became an inferno.

  The thickening smoke made it difficult to see, but Ro remembered the way. Once they crawled through the opening leading out of the stairwell, it was a fairly straight shot to the front door and freedom.

  The opening was too small for Dean to carry her father through, and there was no time to widen it, so Ro helped pull him across after Dean laid him down as far through as he could set him.

  The pain was immense, her arm throbbing as she was forced to put everything she had left into dragging her father one-handed until he was lying on the hardwood floor of the hallway.

  Dean crawled through a moment later and once more grabbed hold of John.

  Ro used the walls to guide them forward, the smoke effectively blinding them. They reached what she thought must be the foyer when a voice called out from in front of them, “Who’s there? That you, Kane? You get that son of a bitch?”

  Shit! She’d forgotten she’d counted four pairs of footprints at the gate.

  She wanted to kick herself. It was standard Guild protocol for multi-hunter missions. When one or more members boxed in a wolf, another was to stand guard in case it got past them.

  Goddamnit!

  She still had Kane’s gun tucked into the waistband of her pants, but she hadn’t either the time or inclination to check to see how many bullets remained in the magazine. No matter the case, an extended gun battle was ill-advised with the place probably only minutes away from coming down around them.

  As if to accentuate the point, there came a muffled explosion from below, followed by a wall of heat that licked at their backsides.

  She glanced back at Dean, barely stifled a cough, then pulled the gun out and held it in front of her.

  Ro strode forward, trying to convey she meant business, holding herself steady so she wouldn’t give away the fact that she’d have gladly downed half a bottle of Percocet to dull the pain.

  Eventually she saw him, a large man silhouetted in the doorway ahead, blocking their way. His weapon was out, but his aim appeared unsteady. Ro smirked silently. It didn’t take a genius to figure out his resolve was wavering.

  He turned toward the sound of her footsteps – a big man, dark-haired and muscular, but with a gut developing around his middle. Ro was certain she’d seen him before when visiting the Guild. Brock ... or maybe Buck. Yeah, that sounded right.

  “It’s about time,” he said. “What the hell did you guys do down ... who the fuck are you?”

  He saw the gun pointed his way and aimed at her with his own, but then Dean, holding Ro’s father, emerged from the smoke and the hunter’s eyes opened wide in surprise.

  “Son of a bitch. You’re that traitor whore. Kane was right. He said...”

  “Kane’s dead,” Ro replied, her breath hitching for a moment as she desperately wanted to cough, but she caught herself. She really wasn’t in the mood for any alpha dog bullshit, but at the same time wasn’t about to show this jackass any weakness. “You’re the last man standing and you’re in our way.”

  The hunter trained his gun on Dean, then back again toward Ro.

  From off to her side, Dean began to growl, low and deep in his throat. That caught the hunter’s attention and he apparently decided the wolf was the bigger threat.

  “Eh-hem.” She cleared her throat, calling attention back to herself and hopefully cluing him in on the fact that she had him dead to rights. “Think about this real carefully.”

  “Fuck you,” he replied, but she thought she detected a tremor in his voice. “We don’t let wolves walk.”

  “Things change. And if you so much as twitch a finger, I’ll give you a few new holes to breathe out of.”

  “There’s no shame dying in the line of duty.”

  “Dying a hero doesn’t mean anything if nobody knows about it, and I can guarantee they’ll never find your body.”

  “Won’t save the whelp.”

  “That’s assuming you don’t hit my father by mistake. A dicey prospect in this smoke.”

  His eyes got a wild look in them, and she could tell his resolve was crumbling. Time to give him an out and hope he took it. “Drop it and run. Nobody needs to know. Don’t bother stopping at your car, I already took care of that. Just keep going and don’t look back.”

  “But...”

  Ro p
ut every ounce of steel she had left into her voice. “Last chance.” She found it was easy to do as she realized she wasn’t bluffing this time, something she wasn’t sure of until that moment.

  Apparently the hunter, Buck Something, realized it, too.

  He took a step back, tossed his weapon at her feet, and then turned tail and ran.

  Judging by the heat rising behind them, it wasn’t a moment too soon.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  They didn’t slow down until they were well away from the house, the cool fresh air a balm to Ro’s throat and lungs. Dean hacked as he walked next to her, still carrying her father, his barking cough strange to her ears.

  The fire had spread from the basement to the first floor of the mansion. Several windows blew out, and smoke began to pour from them. It wouldn’t be long until the entire place collapsed.

  They made their way to the gate quickly and silently. There was no sign of the other hunter. He’d run as she’d commanded. Good for him, because if he’d stood his ground, there would have been no mercy shown ... from either of them.

  It was yet another of her father’s lessons. He used to tell her there was no way of knowing the true mettle of a man until his ass was between a rock and a hard place. It was a test most didn’t pass.

  She considered this and realized she’d fared better than most on that test, but the thought left her sick to her stomach. In doing so, she’d done the unthinkable, turned on the Guild – the only life she knew. Not only that, but she’d injured her father and her actions had directly led to Kane’s death. Hers was indeed a trial by fire, although what that meant for her going forward, she had no way of knowing.

  “Come on. We’ll leave him outside the gate, then drop 9-1-1 an anonymous tip.” The words left her lips without emotion. She was tired in so many ways, but the night was not yet over.

  Dean chuffed in acknowledgment. He laid the old man down where she told him to, then stood tall, his eyes seeming to search for something in hers.

  A cough from her father caught their attention before she could say anything, and they turned to find him starting to come to.

  He opened his eyes and they settled upon Dean. He cried out, a mix of surprise and rage, and tried to scramble away, but Ro was by his side in an instant putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Dad. You’re safe.”

  The look he gave her was enough to break her heart. “I’m not safe as long as that wolf is alive. And neither are you, but I see now you’re not smart enough to realize that.”

  She shook her head and let out a long sigh. “Think whatever you want, I can’t stop that, but know that so-called monster saved you. That’s a truth you can never change.”

  She went to check his foot, make sure it wasn’t bleeding too badly, but he pushed her away. “Don’t touch me. I’ll tend to it myself.”

  She could see he meant it, too.

  This wasn’t the time to argue, even if she thought she had a chance of swaying him. Sooner or later, someone would notice the flames rising high into the night sky. Besides, she wasn’t sure she had the right words to say. She straightened with a sad sniff and turned toward Coop’s car.

  “That’s it? You’re just gonna leave me?”

  “You know I have to go.”

  “Yeah. That’s right. You and that dog of yours go run. To the ends of the Earth, if you want. It won’t matter. I will find you, girl. No matter where you go, I’ll find you and that mutt and, when I do, I’ll put him down like he deserves.”

  “I know you’ll try.” Before she walked away, she added, “I’m sorry.”

  Ignoring the curses he threw their way, Ro unlocked the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. She had difficulty maneuvering with her broken arm, but she managed to start the vehicle and put it into gear while Dean stuffed his considerable bulk into the back. He lay down on the bench seats, no doubt as tired as she was. That was okay. He needed time to rest, to heal.

  Ro checked the rearview mirror and said a silent goodbye to her father. Then she pulled out onto the road and drove away, not knowing her destination, but satisfied in her heart that she’d done what was right.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Dean was awakened by the feel of warm sunlight on his skin. He felt groggy and every muscle seemed to ache. He was covered in dried blood but, thankfully, it appeared all his wounds had scabbed over, even a nasty gash in his side of which he had a vague recollection of digging out a bullet. Not an experience he cared to ever repeat.

  His head cleared and he noticed his surroundings. Where am I? Where’s...?

  A quick glance answered his questions. He recognized the car right away. They were parked in a large lot with some buildings close by. A nearby sign identified it as the New Baltimore Plaza. He knew the place, a rest stop on the New York Thruway about an hour and a half north of the mansion.

  Ro was sound asleep in the driver’s seat, her fiery hair partially obscuring her face. The clock on the dashboard showed it was still early, just past sunrise if he had to guess.

  Early or not, it was only a matter of time before someone walked by and saw the passed out redhead in the front and the bruised up naked guy in the backseat.

  He considered how best to remedy that when he saw the clothes laid out for him on the passenger seat, tags still attached to them. He silently thanked her for everything she’d done, but especially her actions the night before.

  He considered this as he got dressed, realizing he had full recollection from the moment she’d found him in the basement.

  Dean smiled, feeling an overwhelming urge to kiss this woman, the one who’d started off as his enemy, but had become his saving grace ... his angel. Sadly, it would probably have to wait.

  He got out of the car and opened the driver’s side door.

  “Ro,” he said softly, gently laying a hand on her shoulder.

  She stirred sleepily but didn’t awaken.

  “Ro,” he repeated. “We’ve got to get going. Come on. I’ll drive. Move over.”

  She moaned groggily, but then her eyes flew wide open and she sat up straight, a look of panic upon her.

  “Relax,” he said. “It’s me.”

  “Huh? What happened? Are they...?”

  “It’s fine,” he answered calmly. “We need to get moving.”

  “I’ll...”

  “You’re exhausted. Move over and hand me the keys.”

  For a change, she didn’t protest – just did as he asked her.

  She let out a whimper of pain as she settled into the passenger side seat and cradled her arm protectively.

  “We need to get that looked at,” he told her.

  “I’ll be fine. Just drive. We’ll worry about it later.”

  He nodded, shifted the car into gear, and pulled back onto the interstate.

  After a few minutes, once he got his bearings straight, his mind began to settle from the trauma of the change. All at once, he sat up straight as thoughts from the prior day returned to him.

  “What?” Ro asked, startled. “Are you okay?”

  He turned to her, his eyes questioning. “This is Coop’s car! Did you...”

  Ro laid one hand on his over the steering wheel. “I’m so sorry.”

  She didn’t need to say anything else. “Goddamn it!” he cried, slamming a fist into the dashboard. Tears began to muddy his vision and he was soon grateful the road was mostly empty.

  After a few minutes of tortured silence as the miles slid by, he again turned to her. “Was he...? Did he die...?”

  “I was there with him at the end,” she told him. “He didn’t go alone.”

  Dean wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to rage, to scream, to curse the name of the man whom he knew to be responsible, but he held his tongue. He knew she was hurting, too, and anything he said in anger would only wound her more. He didn’t want that. So instead he focused on the good, all she’d done for him. “Thank you
.”

  She nodded knowingly, her hand still on his. Its warmth reminding him that they were still alive.

  After a time, he felt strong enough to speak again. “Everything he did. Everything he sacrificed. All for nothing.”

  “It wasn’t for nothing,” Ro said. “He did it for you.”

  He looked at her, a sad smile on his lips. “I know, but at what cost? We lost so much and for what? The mansion is gone. All my work, my research. There’s nothing left.”

  “I wouldn’t say nothing. You’re still here ... and so am I.”

  “But everything I was hoping for. Me ... you ... us having normal lives. All of those victims we could have helped...”

  “We’ll make our own hope. Speaking of which, I almost forgot. It might not be anything, but I saw this lying on your desk when the fire broke out. Don’t know why, but I had a feeling about it.”

  She reached her good hand into her front pocket and produced something. When she held it up, Dean saw it was a USB thumb drive ... the same one he’d been using to back up his research.

  “Oh my God.”

  “Is that a good thing?” she asked warily.

  “You have no idea,” he said, his grin broadening. “I could so kiss you right now.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him, but then her gaze softened and she grinned before turning back toward the road. “You might just get the chance. But for now, keep driving.”

  “Where to?”

  “For now, wherever the road takes us. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

  He wasn’t sure what their next step would be, how they were going to survive the coming days, but he did know one thing. He was grateful for the woman sitting beside him, who had risked everything for a man who had a monster lurking within.

  He reached over and took hold of her hand. Her face was set, her eyes on the road. But when she didn’t pull away, as a sad smile appeared on her face, he felt the faintest glimmer of something between them, something that went beyond the pull of the moon or that of a hunter and its prey.

  It was the understanding that whatever challenges they faced next, they would not do so alone.