by Pat Cunningham, Savanna Kougar, Rebecca Gillan, Solara Gordon, Serena Shay
Wintery air slapped her face. As Sulandra opened her eyes, the bright afternoon sunlight caused her to blink rapidly. She shifted to wolf ‘asap’, ripping her minimal clothing apartâ��all while hearing humongous paws crunch over the thick layer of snow.
The mutant werewolves guarding the lab were on her trail. And no, they wouldn’t be satisfied with a piece of her tail, either. The crazed beasts would shred her into unrecognizable pieces, if her plan failed.
Sulandra swiftly bounded over the ice-blanketed snow toward the cave system she’d remote viewed, but had never actually been inside. Behind her, the pack of mutant werewolves gained ground, their long running strides nearly silent now.
A cold calm replaced the fear starting to fester inside her. All she had to do was find the brush-covered entrance, then wiggle through… shots rang out!
Sulandra leaped in reaction, startled. This wasn’t ordinary rifle ammo being fired. More like the sound of military style tracers combined with M-80 firecrackers.
Keeping her spy cool, Sulandra focused on the surroundings she’d memorized via remote viewing. Howls-eureka! Sliding to a halt before the outcropping of rock, she dug with frenzied paws, spraying the snow behind her.
Then, like the fiend some considered her to beâ��fools theyâ��Sulandra yanked away the brush overgrowth with her fangs. About to clear the entrance, she heard, “I’ve dispatched them, my lovely. Care to go for a ride on my copter?”
Chapter Sixteen:
The Grand Tour
By Pat Cunningham
Maureen darted blindly into the hallway, picked a direction, and ran. She’d tried to keep track of all the turns, but between the bar owner and the chorus “girl” (the jury was still out on her gender) she’d gotten fairly well turned around. No matter. There had to be a fire exit somewhere. Sooner or later she’d find it.
Pity she’d had to run out on the cutest guy she’d encountered in ages. However, she didn’t have any choice. No one in Talbot’s Peak was a traditional werewolf. They couldn’t help her. Eventually the shifters would remember she was both human and a hunter. Ewan had promised her she’d be safe, but c’mon, let’s be realistic here.
She heard his boots clomping somewhere behind her and frantically tried one of the many doors that lined the hall. It swung open easily. She ducked inside.
Right into a blood-chilling scream.
Another scream followed it, then another, before the screamers realized they had company and stopped. They stared at her. Maureen stared back.
They were � goats. Mountain goats, barnyard goats, hairy Angoras, and one out-of-place-looking llama. Each was mounted over the tail of the goat in front of them. They looked like they were joined in a conga line. Maureen peered more closely. No, that was not a conga line.
The llama broke ranks and shifted into a thirtyish naked man. “This isn’t what it looks like,” he said.
“The hell it’s not.” One of the screaming goats had morphed into a woman, pushing 40 hard with both hands. “Do you mind?” she said to Maureen. “We’ve got this room for another hour.”
“Sorry.” Face flaming, Maureen escaped into the hall again.
The next door she tried led into what looked like an elementary classroom. A naked man was bent over an antique desk, while a woman in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform two sizes too small spanked him with a ruler. The woman looked Maureen up and down. “You want the harem room,” she said. “End of the hall, turn left, third door on the right.”
“I’m looking for an exit.”
“In that case, make a right, and keep making rights until you get to the stairs.” She tilted her head as if listening, and grinned. “Better hurry. Sounds like he’s catching up.”
Now Maureen could also hear Ewan, rushing through the halls and yelling her name. Getting closer. She raced to the end of the hall and turned right. A Ewan-shaped shadow loomed across the wall, forcing Maureen to take refuge again in the first room that opened to her. She shut the door and only then saw where she was.
Oh spit.
This room looked like a barn, with hay and saddles and tack scattered around. A nude, redheaded man sat on a milking stool with a seven-foot snake wrapped around him. The snake was engaged in swallowing the man’s dick. The reptile wore a pink wig.
Maureen shot into the hall. She slammed the door and leaned against it, with her hands clapped to her mouth to hold back a scream. Neither man nor snake had noticed her.
Then Ewan was beside her and prying her hands loose. She didn’t scream, but her gasps had a screamy quality. “In there,” she said. “A snake’s eating somebody!”
“Must be Jamie and Lamar, then. Swallowing and squeezing are what he does best. I guess it works for them. I prefer mammalian partners myself.”
“What is this place?” Maureen demanded, still in the screamy voice. With Ewan’s arms tightly around her and something that wasn’t his belt buckle poking her in the hip, the light finally dawned. “This is a sex club.”
“The Interspecies Pleasure Club,” Ewan said. “You and your pals missed out when you were here earlier. It might have changed your opinion about Talbot’s Peak. It’s a lot more fun than hunting shifters, I tell you what.”
“You’re holding me captive in a sex club! A salacious subterranean shapeshifter sex shop!”
“Betcha can’t say that five times fast.”
Maureen shoved at his chest, for all the good that did. “Let me go, you son of a bitch!”
“Hey, she can swear after all. Quiet down. You’re safe. It’s all consenting adults here. Nobody’s forced to do twisted stuff against their will. Not unless they pay for the room first.”
The shoves weren’t helping, so she quit. “Shapeshifters have a sex club?”
“It’s that or cruise bars. I like this better. Beats sniffing butts in some dive’s restroom. Not that I’ve ever done that. Or used any of these rooms. Too rich for my wallet. Everything I just said is hypothetical.”
He eased up on his grip. Maureen stayed where she was, pressed up against him. The shivers had finally set in, and she needed his solid body to keep her standing. On the other side of the door, the snake’s “victim” started to yodel. This was joined by a loud, happy hiss.
Ewan steered her away from the door, to the right, toward the exit. “Don’t be upset you’re upset. This is usually too much for most humans. I guess you’ve got your own problems. Being the only girl in the group and all.”
Maureen snorted. “I wish. Those yutzes are barely one step up from living in their parents’ basements. Ted’s into food, Barry’s stoned half the time, Lowenstein’s a jerk, I think Pete’s gay, and Atcheson â�¦ ” The shivers kicked in again, even harder. “He’s crazy. Crazier than Cochrane. I always made sure I was never alone with him. Any one of them would have killed me if they’d known I have shifter blood.”
“You don’t have to worry about that here. Talbot’s Peak is a refuge for fullblooded shifters, halfbloods, quarterbloods, or anybody with only a couple of drops. We even take regular humans, but you have to be really nice. No assholes. We’ve got enough of those in the fullblood camp.” He smiled. Maureen felt her shivers diminish. “Nobody’s going to use you for a chew toy. I’m here to see that doesn’t happen.”
Maureen smiled back at him. “Your hand’s on my butt.”
“Yeah, I know. Security measure. I take my duties seriously. How about we have that dinner now? The kitchen’s right up ahead.”
Chapter Seventeen:
Zondros, Ace Pilot and Monster Hunter
By Savanna Kougar
Zondros, ace pilot and monster hunter, swooped low over the tall pines but pushed his modified helicopter to full speed. The instant Dante had gotten wind that his sire, Damien, was on the move, the alpha wolf leader had contacted.
They’d been best buds through several skirmishes in the jungles of Thailand, rescuing hapless humans from the demon trolls who infested the outlying areas. Of course, this had
been after they’d pummeled each other with bare fists for hours. Later over beers Zondros realized the werewolf was his ally, not a mindless fiend.
Zondros had been tracking a Bigfoot family in Coloradoâ��protecting them from a black-ops team ordered to capture then bring them to a secret genetics labâ��when he’d spotted a pack of roaming mutant werewolves. A month earlier, Dante had put the word out about the mutants to Zondros’ clandestine network of hunters â�� their mission: protect innocent humans and on-the-good-side not humans while hunting down the dangerous monsters.
Trouble was, Zondros hadn’t been able to discover the precise location of Damien’s mountain-shielded lab. Not until recently, when Gypsy Red Wolf and a witch named, Marissa, had heard an attempt at telepathic communication, then penetrated the layer upon layer of sorcery shrouding the Doctor Moreau lab.
From that point, the infiltrator who only identified herself as Wolf Friend, had loosed bursts of info infrequently, but enough so Zondros knew the compound’s approximate location, and had been on daily patrol. Waiting.
On his monitor, Zondros watched the smallish athletic woman burst out of her clothing then morph to wolf in the near blink of an eye. With a backpack between her shoulder blades, she shot from the lab’s hidden entrance. At a dead run the silver-coated wolfess raced along a route she’d obviously already planned out.
Concerned despite her amazing speed, Zondros smoothly dived toward a natural platform of rock. Quickly landing his small, nearly silent copter, he grabbed his ray blaster and jumped out.
Given his own superior strength, Zondros made quick tracks through the deep snow. Sighting the gorgeous wolf digging furiously, he sprang on top of a flat-surfaced boulder, then hollered, “I’ve dispatched them, my lovely.”
With a snout full of brush, she whipped her gaze to him. “Care to go for a ride on my copter?” he asked. “Dante sent me,” he added, when her eyes glowed savagely.
A split second later, she dropped the brush and raced in his direction. Zondros fired an energy blast at the charging pack of mutant werewolves. The micro-sound waves fried their limited brains enough to halt them, and send them into crazed nose-to-tail circles.
He launched off the boulder, waving at the brave wolfess to follow him. Side by side, they sprinted toward his low humming copter. The panel doors opened, recognizing his energy signature.
She sprang inside�one fluid motion�while Zondros hauled ass into his seat. With a few touches of his controls, he sailed them upward but on a trajectory away from the lab. Only the One Above knew what advanced-horror tech Damien possessed.
Keeping an eye on his sensors, he also eyed his panting passenger from his peripheral vision. She sat calmly, her gaze locked on his monitor.
Once they reached a high enough altitude, Zondros focused on flying, and hit his rockets as he called the copter’s double-barreled propulsion.
With a tight hold on his controls, Zondros gave his full attention to keeping them airborne. Flight could be tricky, especially if they entered a pocket of turbulence.
“How fast does this, this thing fly?” he heard a soft voice ask.
Zondros risked a sideways glance, and caught the naked woman reaching for a wool survival blanket. Re-focusing, he removed the image of beautiful, cocoa-tinted skin, of a long graceful arm, and a mop of pale, ginger-colored curls.
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,” he joked in his swaggering tone.
“Seriously?” she asked, the softness of her voice at odds with what he’d expected.
“No. Let’s say it’s close to the speed of sound. We’re headed for Talbot’s Peak,” he added to put the werewolfess at ease. “By the by, the name is Zondros.”
“Ah…” The word was a puff of air. “Do you know who you remind me of?” She paused, and Zondros resisted his rising lust, not looking at her from the corner of his eye.
“The Red Baron,” she continued. “You know, geared out in leather, scarf in the wind, the goggles, even that super rifle… how do you know Dante?”
“We got to know each other in Thailand during his world travels. Fisticuffs led to male bonding, you could say.”
Zondros felt her nod. “I’m Sulandra, his niece… but he’s never met me. You know, the secret baby thing.”
“Sulandra, a pleasure to meet you,” Zondros charmed and wished they were getting to know each other, having drinks at an upscale bar. “Secret baby?” he pursued, knowing she’d opened the door.
“Devon Hancock is my sire. I doubt he owns a damn clue, though. My mother is a witch, and she probably cast a spell…” her voice trailed away.
Forcing himself to concentrate, Zondros eased back on the copter’s speed and began his descent toward the shapeshifter enclave. He’d spent little time at the Pleasure Club, given his monster hunting missions. Now the desire to accept Dante’s standing invitation leaped up and grabbed him by the throat. Not to mention his deprived cock activated itself at the mere thought of being with Sulandra. And he’d yet to see her face. Or her other beauteous attributes.
“Will you stay with me?” she asked, her tone even softer than before. “Iâ��I don’t really know anyone, except telepathically. But not personally. And… there’s something about you I trust.”
Zondros swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. The werewolfess, and her unexpected vulnerability, had gotten to him already. “Count on it. Dante and I are overdo for a long catch-up conversation, and a barroom bash and crash.”
“Bash and crash,” she repeated, a giggle in her voice.
“Male bonding must be reinforced,” Zondros drily quipped.
“Talbot’s Peak is in mucho trouble.” Sulandra spoke in a sober tone.
Chapter Eighteen:
Convergence
By Pat Cunningham
Overture, curtain, lights. This is it, the night of nights. The players have been introduced, the plot is rolling, the stage is set. That stage is Talbot’s Peak.
****
Out at the exit, the police release the Scooby Gang at dawn. They have no real charges to hold them onâ��everyone agrees Cochrane, currently MIA, was the only one with a gunâ��and the cops need the cells for the drunk drivers and brawlers that litter the strip every Saturday night. Even Barry receives a â��Get Out of Jail Free” card. While the others were ditching their knives, he was flushing his last bag of Panama Red. Barry’s from California. He knows the drill.
The cast assembles at the far end of the cop shop parking lot: Atcheson (“Freddie”), Barry (“Shaggy”), Ted (“Comic Book Guy”), and Lowenstein (“Agent Mulder”). Atcheson tries Cochrane’s number and gets no response. Ditto for Maureen and Pete. He pockets the phone with a vicious oath, his face contorted in frustration.
“What now?” Lowenstein says. “Breakfast?” Ted asks hopefully.
“Screw breakfast,” Atcheson says. His eyes are glittering. This is his chance to seize command, and he grabs it with both hands. “We have to find Cochrane. The werewolf bit him. He’s a monster now, just like the rest of them. He has to die. For his own good,” he quickly adds, noting the expressions of alarm on the faces of his team. “Nobody wants to live as a monster. He’ll thank us, believe me.”
After a moment, they reluctantly nod. Like Ewan before him, Atcheson reaches the conclusion his partners aren’t very bright. That doesn’t dull the thrill of power becoming their new leader gives him. Hunting and killing monsters is what he was born to do. Especially the killing part.
He gives his first orders. “Cochrane’s bound to head for Talbot’s Peak. That’s where we need to go.” He gazes around the parking lot. The motel’s at least a mile away, and the van may not even be there. On the other hand, half a dozen cop cars are parked on the lot, just sitting there. “How are your hot-wiring skills?” he asks Lowenstein. Lowenstein wriggles his fingers and grins.
Ted stares longingly at the string of fast-food places that line the commercial strip, and sighs. There goes breakfa
st. Maybe they can stop for something on the way.
****
Already miles along the road to Talbot’s Peak, Cochrane floors his Chevy, throttles the wheel and grits his teeth. He got away from the alien bunny probe-free, only to discover his arsenal in the trunk was gone. Goddamn freaks. However, they missed the pistol and full clip of ammo he had hidden under the driver’s seat, and the three grenades in the glove compartment. That’s all he’s got left to wipe an entire town full of shapeshifters off the map.
And he’s naked. Again.
“Sons’a bitches,” he snarls. If that’s all he has to work with, so be it. They’re monsters. One way or another, they’re going to die. Vern and the Mayor first. He’s going to twist their heads off their necks with his bare hands. More satisfying anyway. As for the wolf boy, Cochrane can’t wait to beat his head in with the cast on his broken wrist. Wolf Boy gave him that cast. It has symmetry.
A rabbit takes a tentative hop onto the side of the road. Cochrane swerves to run it down. The rabbit makes a frantic dive back into the underbrush, inches ahead of the Chevy’s tires. The car rockets on up the road.
“They’re all gonna die,” Cochrane vows. Yeah, even the bunnies. Especially the bunnies.
****
Some miles behind Cochrane and ahead of the Scooby Crew, Ranjeet Patel, aka Pete, aka Silent Sam, drives his own stolen vehicle at a moderate pace along the road to Talbot’s Peak. His trained eye spots the “checkpoints” he’s been warned about. He keeps well within the speed limit. The wolf clan will have agents stationed all along this road. He does not want to draw their attention.
Zhere Ghan’s empire has long employed human servants, even before the tiger lord came to America. Ranjeet’s family has served the House of Ghan for generations. Somebody has to keep the poachers away from the tigers’ pelts. The Ghans were the first shifter clan to recognize the need to fight fire with fire.
