“Who? Who told you to do stuff?”
Even though the gunfire pounds in my chest and makes my ears feel like they’re filled with cotton, I hear the tap-tap-tap on the marble tile as a woman walks into the room. She’s accompanied by a brilliant blue light. I have to shield my eyes against it. After a few seconds, it fades away. The smell of cinnamon and roses fills my nose.
“Detective Ramirez, how nice to see you again.” The woman is dressed in all white and glides across the floor to the window. She sticks her head through the broken glass wall and surveys the battle below. Her hair and dress are tousled by the wind, but she keeps smiling, seemingly unafraid of the height. “It looks like my darlings are putting up quite a fight. Is it really fair to use military gunships against them?” She snaps her fingers and two helicopters collide, bursting into a ball of fire and whirl to the ground. She giggles. “That’s better.”
Ramirez trains his gun on her. “Gorgeous.”
“You remembered my name,” she turns to him, “how thoughtful, Detective.”
“You’re behind this—part of the Daemons Aunt Rose told us about.”
“Rosalyn? She’s still playing her part as the good little human? I wonder what side she’ll be on when there are no more humans.”
Detective Ramirez fires his weapon at her. The bullet slows in mid-air, hovers, then falls to the ground with a “clink.” Gorgeous waves her hand at him. He winces and drops the gun. Steam rises from it as it lies on the tile.
She smiles. “How brave of you, Detective. I think I’ll save you for dessert. But first, as an appetizer—Sonny. The bitch? Wacko? Really?”
The Alpha falls to his knees and starts crying. I’ve never seen anything so strange. This man held such power over me—over my entire pack—and now he’s on the floor, begging for mercy.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I was stalling, trying to buy time until you came and rescued me. Please, sweetie, you know I’m a standup guy. I’d do anything for you.”
“From what I hear, you’ve done quite enough.” Gorgeous turns toward the hallway and nods her head. “C’mon girl, time for your entrance.”
Nina is in human form. Her blonde hair cascades over her naked shoulders. She limps into the room, dried blood caked on her leg from her hip to her toes. She glares at The Alpha.
“Nina,” he says, standing up on shaky legs. “There you are. What happened to you? I lost you. Thank God you’re okay.”
“Why did you shoot me?”
“What do you mean shoot you? What are you talking about? She’s lying, Gorgeous.” The Alpha tries a smile, but fails at it. “I don’t know what the hell she means; you know I would never dream of hurting one of your hounds.”
Gorgeous stares right at me. “I can see that. You look well, Steel. A little worse for wear, but well.”
I can only guess by her tone that she expected The Alpha to kill me when he had me locked up in the basement. If that was the case, Dixie rescued me just in time.
“It’s too bad you and your human plaything won’t witness the dawn of the new age. An age without war, without suffering,” she turned to The Alpha, “without weakness.”
The Alpha backs away as Nina limps toward him.
“I know how this might look, Gorgeous.” He’s trembling, tears streaming down his face. “You’ve got to believe me. I’m on your side.” He holds a hand straight out, palm up, but keeps retreating to the broken window. “Stop, Nina. Stop right there.”
Nina doesn’t stop; she staggers forward, her eyes fixed on The Alpha. She pauses next to Detective Ramirez and draws in a deep breath. Ramirez scampers away from her as if she’s contagious. She begins to scratch at her skin, slowly at first, and then with more purpose. Her snout elongates and her claws develop. It takes her no time at all to transform. Major Ransom hurries next to Ramirez, putting her arms around him.
“Okay, okay, Gorgeous,” The Alpha says, “if she was shot it was an accident, honest. You’ve got to believe me. Look, look at this, I was shot, too.” The Alpha attempts another feeble smile, but he missed the mark. He has nowhere to go; he’s backed up to the edge of the broken window. He takes a quick glance behind him then holds both hands out to regain his balance.
“Another one of your accidents?” Gorgeous shakes her head. “Look at you, Sonny. When I found you, you had nothing—a two-bit hood in a one room dump. I saw the potential in you and gave you everything: money, power, everything you ever wanted. All I asked was that you be loyal. Now you’re right back where you started.” She laughs. “You probably shot yourself.”
The Alpha is whimpering, big dramatic sobs. “I did everything you asked. You can still trust me. Why won’t you believe me? I’m as solid as they come.”
“No, Sonny. You gave it all up—and for what? Money?” Gorgeous points at the duffel bag and it rises in the air. “Is that all you want? Take it.” She flicks her finger, and the bag flies across the room at The Alpha. He clutches the bag to his chest with one hand while his other does little circles in the air to steady himself.
The wind rushing in through the broken window fans his hair and his suit flutters like a sheet on a clothesline. Helicopters are right outside the window firing their weapons to the ground. The Alpha has nowhere to go.
The noise is overwhelming, and he yells over it, “I can make it right. Okay, so I ran and I’m sorry. Please, give me another chance.”
“No more chances, Sonny.” Gorgeous shouts over the noise, her smile still present. “There will still be room in our world for humans—mundane tasks and such—but there’ll never be a place for anyone as pathetic as you. So here it is: you needn’t be scared of me anymore, my sweet.” She glances at Nina. “You have more immediate concerns at hand.”
Nina creeps closer to him. The hair on the back of her neck bristles, her fangs bared in a snarl. The Alpha’s choice is clear: have his throat ripped out, or jump. He backs just an inch and drops the duffel bag. A high-pitched scream fills the room. It fades away, covered by the sound of bullets, helicopter blades, and Nina’s howling.
I’ll never know if he decided to jump, or if he lost his footing and fell. In any case, The Alpha is gone and I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. I have only one Alpha now; a true and honest Alpha I would do anything for.
Gorgeous glides back to the window and kicks the duffel bag over the edge. “Don’t forget the money, you’ve earned it.”
Nina stares up at Gorgeous.
“You must be famished.” She twirls around and waves a hand across the room. “Why don’t you grab a bite to eat before we go?”
****
Nina jumps for the nearest human—Major Ransom. Before I can transform, the major is splayed on the floor, blood spilling from every bite Nina has inflicted. Gorgeous laughs, a wicked, sarcastic cackle that drowns out all other sounds.
In rapid succession, Detective Ramirez seizes Gorgeous by the neck, the elevator door opens, and Nina slinks toward Dixie. I transform in an instant and pounce at Nina. My jaws latch around her neck and she crumbles to the floor. She yelps, claws at my snout, and buries her teeth into my shoulder; my turn to yelp. I’m stunned for just a second, enough time to realize she’s going after her original prey: Dixie.
With a flick of Gorgeous’ finger, Detective Ramirez flies across the room, crashing against the wall next to the elevator. He lays motionless on the floor. I scramble to regain my footing, ignoring the burning pain of Nina’s bite.
Colonel Dayton emerges from the elevator, his gun drawn. As Nina jumps at Dixie, he shoots her in midair. Her carcass falls onto Dixie.
Gorgeous dissipates into a dazzling blue light. The light fills the room, illuminating everyone and everything. Colonel Dayton falls to his knees, his hands on his head. The pain that grips him also tears through me, contorting my face and bending my spine. Gorgeous is sucking the life out of us. Dixie screams, her body going into convulsions.
The sounds of war pierce my ears—gunshots, helicopters, and
screams. The last thing I see before I pass out is a brilliant green light filling the room. I smell the warm aroma of baking bread reminding me of a sweet old woman welcoming me into her house.
With a booming crash, the room becomes nothing but white light. My head spins into darkness.
When I open my eyes, an angel hovers over me. Her tears fall on my face. She cradles my head in her lap.
“Adam, I thought you were gone.” Dixie is crying.
“What happened?” I try to look around the room, but she holds my head steady in her hands. The sounds of helicopters and gunfire are gone. “The green light. What—”
“Shhh.” She puts a finger on my lips, then replaces the finger with her lips. It’s warm and quick, a kiss that takes me by surprise.
I put a hand on the back of her neck—a human hand—and kiss her back. Dull pain still rattles through my body, but it’s a pain I can deal with. I try to sit up, but can’t find the strength. “The green light. What was it?”
Dixie smiles. “Aunt Rose. She overpowered Gorgeous in a brilliant white light.”
I manage to sit up with Dixie’s help and glance out the window. Dozens of sparkling white lights explode like fireworks over The Strip. Streaks of various colors dart across the skyline, disappearing into the desert. “The Daemons are leaving.”
“It’s over.” Dixie tightens her arms around me.
I turn my gaze to the penthouse. The first thing I see is Detective Ramirez lying prone on the floor. His eyes are shut, but his chest is moving—he’s alive. Nina is sprawled out next to him, a pool of blood around her body. On the opposite side of the room, Major Ransom is lifeless; her body ripped apart by a beast. Agent Miller is still breathing.
“Where’s Aunt Rose?”
“I don’t know.” Dixie sobs and I hug her.
My face is nuzzled on her shoulder when I hear the thud and her body goes limp. My eyes shoot open; I see the business end of a pistol inches from my face. Dixie rolls away from me and crumbles to the floor. She’s bleeding.
“Don’t move you son-of-a-bitch.” Colonel Dayton, his eyes red and raw, his jaw trembling, stands over me.
Rage is the only thing I feel. I narrow my eyes and hope I can transform as fast as Nina. Already I feel my incisors growing.
“Don’t even think about it.” Colonel Dayton whips the gun away from my face and points it at the back of Dixie’s head. “Can you change into a dog faster than I can pull this trigger? Are you ready to take that chance?”
I freeze. Pain still ripples through my body. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t be an idiot. I own you, mutt. You’re coming with me.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you want me to come with you?”
“Believe me, mutt, if it were up to me I’d kill you where you are, just like you killed her.” He nods at Major Ransom.
“But I didn’t kill her.” I point at my sister. “Nina did.”
“What’s the difference? She was murdered—torn apart—by a rabid dog. You or her, it doesn’t matter. Get up slowly and get in that elevator or I’ll shoot Dixie, then I’ll shoot you.” He cocks the hammer. “Don’t test me.” His gaze darts over my shoulder, and I know he’s staring at Major Ransom. “Believe me, I’d like nothing better than to put you down.”
I get on my knees, then fight the pain and stand up. My head pounds.
Colonel Dayton nods to the elevator. “Don’t even think about escape. We can make things real easy for Miss Mulholland. Or we can end her. It’s your choice.”
“We?”
I look back at Dixie. A man with scraggily red hair holds a pistol to Dixie’s head.
Colonel Dayton barks an order to the man. “Keep her covered until you hear from me, Cutty. Understood?” The red-haired man nods.
I shuffle toward the elevator. “What do you mean make things easy for her?”
“Keep her alive. My people can make that happen, all they want is you. If you cooperate with us, she’s safe. If you cause trouble, she dies. Simple. Now move.”
We climb into the elevator and the doors begin to slide shut. The last thing I see is Detective Ramirez crawling on his hands and knees to Dixie. The man with red hair backs up and holds them both in his sights.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Good evening and welcome to Nightly News, your trusted source for information. Tonight’s top story: The Las Vegas Disaster—what really happened? When we return.”
The floor manager held his finger up, watching a small monitor on a metal stand, then yelled “And…out. That was great, Dixie, really terrific.”
“C’mon, Terry, you say that every night.”
“And I always mean it.”
“Well then, keep saying it.”
Makeup and hair rushed to the anchor desk and went to work on Dixie as if she were coming in for a pit stop at the Daytona 500. She let them have their way, realizing long ago they would anyway.
“Say, listen Dixie, I took a look at your copy,” Terry said, leaning over, his hands resting on the front of the desk. “Are they okay with it upstairs? Nothing’s in the teleprompter.”
“Of course they are. You think I’d go on without approval? And don’t worry about the teleprompter, I’ll read from my copy, okay?”
“Wow. This is one hell of a story.” He shook his head and moved back into position.
As the hair spray dissipated, she listened for the familiar buzz, then turned her eyes back to the floor manager.
“Four…three,” he air counted to one then pointed at her.
“Welcome back. Tonight we take an in-depth look at what has become known as the Las Vegas Disaster. It’s been six months since the Purdue Commission released its findings. The commission, appointed by the president and authorized by a joint resolution of Congress was given a mandate to investigate the events surrounding the horrible night when one thousand three hundred and twenty-two people lost their lives on the streets of Las Vegas, Nevada.
“The commission subpoenaed a total of seven hundred and twenty-three witnesses. They reviewed documents submitted by the FBI, NSA, CIA, Department of State, and the Attorney General of Nevada. They also scrutinized the records of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department, the Department of Justice, the United States Air Force, and the Atomic Energy Commission—to name just a few.”
“The commission also traveled to Las Vegas to visit the scene of the tragedy. After ten months of investigation, The Purdue Commission presented its final report to the president. Each of the nine members concurred with its findings. The final report, its related documents, and all pertinent information now reside in the National Archives, a permanent record depicting an American tragedy.
“But what did the Commission conclude? Allow me to quote, verbatim, from the official summary of the report:
“The Commission to investigate the Las Vegas Disaster, having completed its assignment in accordance with an Executive Order by The President of The United States finds no single cause for the disaster. Rather, several factors combined to form a singular anomaly. These factors included: unseasonable weather conditions in the Sierra-Nevada Mountain Range, untracked and unchecked migrations of wolves and coyotes along the California-Nevada border, and a 6.5 earthquake four miles below the surface of the Spring Mountains in Nevada. In addition, other factors contributing to this disaster included: residual effects from above ground nuclear testing conducted over the course of several years north of Las Vegas, the general effects of global warming, and an extreme solar flare detected at approximately 6:05pm the night of the disaster. The cause of these combined elements, while tragic in its final outcome, in no way indicates the possibility of a future recurrence of an event of this magnitude. Therefore—”
Dixie leveled her gaze on the camera. “Please. The U.S. government spends millions of tax-payer dollars, including thousands of billable hours by the best attorneys in the business, speaks to hundreds of expert and eyewitnesses, and this is the best they
can come up with? Basically calling the tragedy an Act of God? Well, this reporter isn’t buying it.” She saw the producer, out of the corner of her eye, running toward the set, his arms waving in the air. “Adam, I know you’re out there,” she said. “Don’t lose hope. I promise to—”
“Commercial! Go to commercial,” the producer shouted.
“And…out.”
The cadre of makeup and hair artists descended on Dixie, only to be shooed away by the producer. He leaned on the desk and whispered in her ear, “What in the hell do you think you’re doing? I got a hold of your copy, don’t ask me how, but it was no thanks to you. You’re not gonna read another fucking word of this shit on my show.” He turned to the floor manager. “Get Bob in here, now.”
Dixie put a hand on the producer’s arm. “You can’t do that.”
“Listen to me, Dixie, and listen good, you got this job because of your link to the Las Vegas Disaster. The public connected with you, I don’t know, felt sorry for you. Somebody upstairs gave the go ahead, and here you are. But just because you don’t agree with the findings of the commission—”
“You call this bullshit findings? Solar flares? Weather conditions?”
“Are you insane? You’re not going on the air with any crap about Daemons, talking dogs, or a UN conspiracy. What’s the matter with you? We’re credible news not Jerry Springer.”
“But you said if I can prove—”
He turned away. “Get Bob over here, now! Get out of that chair, Dixie. Terry, go to black.”
Dixie did not move.
“Get out of that chair or so help me security will haul your ass out. Bob, get ready. Carry on with the next story. Terry, countdown.”
“Four…three…” Terry pointed at Bob who slid behind the desk as soon as Dixie stood up.
He fussed with the microphone and ran a hand over his hair. “Good evening once again. We continue tonight with a train derailment in Montana.”
Dixie stormed off the set, unwilling to make eye contact with anyone. She held the copy crumpled in her hands. Her cell phone rang.
Sin City Wolfhound Page 22
