The alien jungle reminded Demon so much of High Tortuga—if the southern continent of the planet she considered to be her home had been dropped into the place her human called Hell to be warmed over by a few degrees. She had taken the long way down the mountain on leaving the transport Pod, choosing to slip into the untamed wilderness surrounding what passed for civilization here at the earliest opportunity.
Demon was amused at the insects and smaller prey who resumed their noise after she passed through the dimness beneath the tree canopy. She likened it to a minuscule celebration—the rejoicing of continued existence after the presence of death had flowed by their humid niches instead of laying waste to them.
A faint wisp of scent drifted by, barely discernible in the chaotic blend.
What was that?
Demon knew instinctively, of course. She just didn’t believe her nose.
She inhaled deeply, her whiskers quivering delicately as the scent molecules passed over her enhanced Jacobson’s organ to be sorted and identified.
There was no doubt about it. Somewhere in this jungle, there was another feline.
Demon’s empty stomach rumbled, distracting her from the distant possibility of encountering another cat. She slowed to a walk as the smorgasbord of scents and sounds consumed her almost entirely.
Hope flourished when she picked up another scent, one that smelled like aggressive prey.
Perhaps the scent belonged to this planet’s version of a pig-beast.
Demon had not been allowed close to the tame herd that belonged to the canine-loving human. Nevertheless, she had found a hidden spot near their habitat to observe them from the morning after the feast.
She had come to learn that equivalents to known prey animals could be found on any planet with a similar ecological background.
Demon knew that if she did find pig-beasts on this world, they would be different than the plump pink animals in Yelena’s yard.
But perhaps—just perhaps—they would taste the same.
The thought sent a shiver down Demon's spine. She longed to taste something like pig again. Even after Michael had burned the meat at the feast, as humans did, it had been delicious.
She continued her careful and considered progress into the jungle. It would be better to have a full stomach since she could not draw the energy her nanocytes required from the air around her like Michael or Bethany Anne.
Besides, it was good to practice self-reliance every once in a while, even for a cat who lived in the lap of luxury with a whole herd of humans to pamper her.
While Demon did not mind the game she played of forcing her humans to pay her bills at Devon’s finest butchers, nothing beat the thrill of capturing her dinner and watching it bleed out beneath her claws.
Once in a while, anyway.
Truth be told, after the trauma of her early life, Demon much preferred to be in the lap of luxury, with her cozy hideaways and daily butcher’s deliveries.
Only… Lately, she had been driven to roam. She had extended her territory far beyond City-on-the-Lake, but it had not fulfilled the impulse that had begun her wandering.
There was no glory without competition, and there was no beast on Devon she had not bested. So, here she was on an alien planet, where she could experience a real hunt—and hopefully sate the gnawing need in her soul.
Demon didn’t know what had driven her to take this course of action, just that it was necessary to her wellbeing to do so.
Demon froze mid-step.
There it was again. That scent, teasing her.
It occurred to her that it was highly arrogant to assume nature only consolidated its designs for herbivores. If this planet had somehow cooked up the recipe for felines, then she was no longer fated to be alone.
Demon was hit with a flash of jealousy. She had been perfectly fine with the knowledge that she was unique in all the galaxies, but now she couldn’t take it. She had to know how there could be another cat around when she was the only big cat who had been rescued from Earth.
Curiosity would be her downfall.
The cat knew that, and still, she ran toward it.
Qu’Baka, Lavafall, Camp
Bethany Anne and Michael sat with Gabrielle under the awning of their tent, The first watch was taking their posts while the rest of the camp settled in to sleep.
Michael bent to the cooler by his chair, pausing in his observation of the discipline the Bakas had when it came to securing the camp perimeter. “You think this is going to be worth the sacrifice of all our comforts? The camp will likely be in ruins afterward.”
Bethany Anne accepted the Coke from Michael. “Oh, hell, yeah. Getting all of this down here was a bitch, but it’s going to be worth it, just wait and see. Let them get comfortable, then we make a move.”
Gabrielle smiled, waving her bottle vaguely at the camp. “I’m eager to see the results. It’s a worry going into a hostile situation with our forces divided for no other reason than ingrained mistrust.” She gave Mahi’ a sympathetic look. “Don’t get me wrong. I completely understand why you all closed ranks after fleeing this planet. But that time is over now, you know?”
Mahi’ nodded solemnly. “I have faith this plan will succeed. It has to.”
“It will,” Michael assured Mahi’ with finality.
Bethany Anne drank to that. “You sure you don’t want to give Eric a hint?” she asked Gabrielle. “Last chance.”
Gabrielle smirked. “Understanding one another’s strengths and weaknesses is good for a marriage.”
That was almost too much for Michael. He managed to repress his laughter—just. “You mean, you like to witness Eric’s so you can use them against him?”
“You’re a complete ass. I’ll be ready to leave in five minutes.” Gabrielle narrowed her eyes at Michael, then got up and stalked over to her own tent without another word.
Michael got to his feet, then looked at Bethany Anne with confusion. “What did I say?”
Bethany Anne lifted a shoulder, a wry smile escaping her lips. “Beats the fuck out of me. Want to bet she tells Eric you riled her?”
Michael made a see-saw motion with his hand. “She’s stubborn enough not to. I’ll take it. What’s the prize?”
Bethany Anne indicated the Mahi’-shaped silhouette over by their agreed meeting place with a nod. “How about…a ten-body head start on the action?”
“Only ten?” Michael’s low voice was muffled by the wind as they walked.
“We’re likely to be here a while,” Bethany Anne reasoned. “We’re not aiming to decimate the population.”
“Just cut the dead rot away so the Bakas can flourish again,” Michael agreed. “Ten is plenty. But the count doesn’t begin until we find the heart of Lu’Trein’s organization.”
Mahi’ hitched her small pack a little higher on her back and set off walking as they reached her position.
“You aren’t sticking around?” Michael asked.
Mahi’ turned her head to look back at them. “There is no time to spare if I am to get to the Citadel and back before morning. I trust your solution will take care of our issues with my people while I am gone.”
“Good luck reaching your uncle,” Bethany Anne called after her. She smiled as Mahi’ walked out of sight. “It takes a special kind of person to see past the risk like that.”
Michael’s focus was on getting Gabrielle’s attention. “Well, we’re not going to allow anyone to be seriously injured. The risk is minimal.”
Gabrielle looked back at the sleeping camp as she arrived. “Yeah, but they don’t know that, do they?”
The uneventful first shift lulled the subconscious minds of the sleepers over the threshold into real sleep as the second watch took their positions and settled in to keep guard over the early hours.
Peter and Li’Orin completed their circuit of the camp and returned to the central campfire, where John was attempting to teach Da'Mahin the basics of chess.
“Where’s Eric?” Pe
ter asked.
John slung a thumb toward Eric’s tent, his eyes on the board.
Da’Mahin's hand hovered over the pieces, a frown of concentration causing his fur to fall into his eyes. He glanced up at John, hoping to get a clue that way.
Peter clapped the indecisive Baka on the shoulder as he and Li’Orin joined them around the fold-out table. “If you’re hoping John has a tell, you’re shit out of luck, my friend. The man is stone-cold.”
Li’Orin bent over the board and made Da’Mahin's move for him. “I’ve got you.”
John grinned as he took the piece Li’Orin had just moved. “You think?”
Da’Mahin growled and flipped the table over. “This is a game for children! A waste of time.” He stomped out of camp, cursing when he stepped on one of the scattered chess pieces.
Li’Orin began chuffing uncontrollably.
“You okay?” John asked.
“My brother,” Li’Orin managed through his laughter. “He could never play a game and lose with grace.”
Peter pulled the empty crate he was using for a seat closer to the fire to get warm. “Yeah, we all know someone like that. Where’d you learn to play chess?”
“Tu’Reigd and Gabriel,” Li’Orin answered. “They play often. I watch when I’m on guard duty.”
Peter raised an eyebrow at John. “What about you? ’Cuz I don’t recall you being the chess type.”
John lifted his hands. “What can I say? I married a smart woman. Gotta keep up somehow.”
Peter snickered. “Hearing Jean talk, it’s not your mind that keeps her occupied.” He wiggled his eyebrows to make his point clear.
John’s reply was cut off by an almighty racket.
They jumped to their feet when Da’Mahin came crashing out of the jungle.
He fired indiscriminately behind him as he ran, heading straight for John and the others. “RAPTORS!” he bellowed as he reached the camp perimeter. “EVERYWHERE!”
That put an end to the peaceful night. Tents began shaking, and the occupants scrambled out in various states of dress with their weapons, ready to fight.
John scanned the tree line but saw nothing. He made his way through the chaos, wondering when Bethany Anne was going to take control of the situation.
Bethany Anne spoke directly into John’s mind.
Consider this a lesson in what happens when I don’t get what I ask for. Her dark laughter echoed around him. Play nice, now.
John grunted when Bethany Anne dropped the link. He looked around again, this time assessing the situation.
Da’Mahin and his eldest son—the little shit Tabitha called Chet—were nowhere to be seen. Kel’Len fought at the forefront of their warriors in his place.
John kept his position for a moment, finding himself with a three-sixty view of the horde of medium-sized predators bursting in on all sides of the camp. His Jean Dukes Specials sang as they lit the darkness.
The living predators tore into the fallen, unable to resist the lure of fresh meat. That gave John a slight breather—and a window to organize.
Peter bounded up to John's side. Was that Gabrielle creeping into camp from the same direction as the raptors? Peter had other concerns. Namely, where the hell Da’Mahin had gotten to, since Kel’Len was the only one directing their warriors. “Why is Kel’Len fighting alone?”
John waved an arm in the direction he thought Da’Mahin might have taken. “Their kid ran off.”
There was no time to search for one Baka just now. Why it couldn’t have been the more reasonable Li’Orin with the larger warrior band, Peter didn’t know.
John couldn’t miss the incandescent yellow glow in Peter’s eyes. He got out of the way as another pack of raptors darted free of the jungle and mobbed the camp, not wanting to be in the way of a Pricolici in the mood for a fight.
Peter raced ahead of John, instinct driving him to tear the intruders to bloody shreds the moment his transformation into four hundred pounds of angry super-enhanced canid was complete.
“You go have all the fun, Pete. Sure,” John bitched as a tactic to bring him back from the edge of total beast-mode. “Don’t worry about everyone tearing the fucking place to pieces. We can sleep in the dirt.”
Peter turned on John, snorting heavily with barely-controlled rage. “Therrre’s morrre in the jungle. You want them to destrrroy everrything? Nooo?” He lifted his chin and howled. “Guarrrdianss! On meee!”
The Guardians obeyed their Alpha, tearing into the jungle to meet the raptors head-on, and the night was filled with reptilian death screams once again as they clashed.
Kel’Len saw the Guardians make their move. “After them,” she cried.
Her warriors barreled into the jungle, leaving Li’Orin to work with Gabrielle and Eric to clear the raptors who’d made it into camp.
Li’Orin’s warriors fought in formation. They locked shields and pushed the intruders back, dispatching the raptors with practiced jabs of their glowing spears.
Gabrielle tossed Etheric energy around with abandon. There was no way she was allowing those beasts to cause any more damage than she could help. “Stupid plan. I hate this.”
Eric chose to take the consequences of not asking what Gabrielle’s problem was. They had far too much to deal with in defending the camp.
John was satisfied he could leave them to take care of it, knowing that Eric had their backs. He shot a raptor that made it close enough he could smell its last meal.
There was still no sign of Da’Mahin in the center of camp, which John could only assume meant he had gone after his favored son when Ch’Irzt had fled, leaving his wife and his warriors to their fates.
“Where’s that itchy damned dick-rash gotten to?” John’s lip curled, his ability to tolerate the asshole dropping further from its already low starting point. No wonder Da’Mahin’s warriors had no respect for him.
Movement—a solitary Baka climbing the trail to the top of the falls.
John set off in the direction of the dark smudge, squinting as he walked to make out which of his absconders he’d found. “There’s the father. Now, where’s the son?”
12
Peter stood back to back with Kel’Len in a clearing with raptors circling them, looking for any weak spot they could take advantage of.
The sounds of battle filtered through the trees from all directions while they moved in a slow circle, daring the raptors to make a move. Three more of the creatures entered the clearing.
“What is this, the lunch rush?” Peter lunged and grabbed the closest raptor. His movement was enough to trigger the mob instinct in the others.
Peter twirled the raptor over his head a couple of times to build up momentum and flung it at the group of five rushing him. “Strrrike!”
He sprang at them claws and teeth, finishing them off in less than a minute before turning to find his next target.
Kel’Len fended off one raptor’s attempt to distract her with a twist of her wrist that also put the raptor sneaking in from the side in line with the powered end of her staff. She caught a flash of movement in her peripheral vision. “Behind you!”
Peter twisted and snatched the raptor out of the air mid-leap. He grinned at Kel’Len and backhanded the half-hairy, half-scaly predator toward her. “Batterrr up!”
Kel’Len had no clue what Peter was saying, but she planted her feet and took a heavy swing at the raptor coming her way. Her staff connected with its side in a sizzling crunch and the raptor flew into the trees, landing with a crash.
Peter paused for a moment to applaud. “I hate the stink of burrrnt hairrr!”
“You can’t hate the result.” Kel’Len widened her stance and took out another raptor, the staff producing a burst of light that sent the attackers into a frenzy. “I wouldn't go back to my old staff. I prefer this gift from the Empress. You are a surprise. Your ability to change shape is astonishing.”
Peter choked on the acrid smell of charred flesh and burnt hair as he lunged at the t
wo beasts attacking him. “You’rrre well trrrained.”
Kel’Len laughed without hesitating as she plowed mercilessly through the raptors. “I was the only female in a set of eight. I began young and studied at every opportunity.” She jerked her head to Peter’s left as she ran past to meet her next target head-on. “They’re determined to die.”
Peter grabbed the two raptors around their thick necks and bared teeth every bit as deadly as theirs. The raptors clawed uselessly at the air, dangling from the enormous Pricolici paws holding them. Peter shook them and they ceased their struggles, understanding that their position as apex predators was no longer a given.
“Do I look like dinneeerrrr?” Peter smashed their heads together and dropped the bodies, then glanced around the clearing. He had lost Kel’Len.
The sound of raptors dying gave him a clue to her general direction.
Peter burst into action. He hurtled through the trees into another clearing, where he found Kel’Len standing over a pile of raptor corpses.
Kel’Len glanced in Peter’s direction and jerked her head to indicate the two injured Guardians she and a third Guardian were fighting to keep safe.
Gibbons grinned, showing Peter his wolf teeth.
“Nice of you to join us,” Kel’Len quipped, not dropping her eyes for a moment from the twelve raptors she and Gibbons were keeping at bay.
Peter assessed the situation in a second. The sight of two of his own forced into the healing sleep brought his priorities crashing in. “Playtime’s overrr. I’ll take care of the raptorrrs. You get everrryone back to camp.”
Kel’Len nodded uncertainly. “You’ve got this?”
Peter snarled and utter silence fell over the clearing. “Hells yeah, I’ve got this. Go.”
The raptors backed off to assess the new threat. Their keen intelligence was clear in the way they turned their heads from side to side, examining Peter.
Peter half-wondered what they were thinking. Visions of what Tabitha would do to him if he was stupid enough to die passed through his mind just before the part of his brain that wanted maximum destruction kicked in.
Enter Into Valhalla Page 12
