"Did you think I was the monster?" Victoria asked, pitching her voice to a soft whisper.
In response, the dog whimpered again, and then retreated toward the trash bins. She watched him go and did not call him back.
Before she entered the building, Victoria retrieved her cell phone, set the device to vibrate, and returned it to her pocket. She reached the rear entrance and tugged it open wide enough so she could slide sideways through the crack. She had the build of a ballerina—slender torso and powerful limbs. Even though it had been years since she had trained as a dancer, she moved with grace and precision.
She entered a back area filled with crates and boxes, shelving stacked high with containers coated in thick dust. Exposed duct work and pipes covered the ceiling and walls. The scent of goat grew even thicker, a musky aroma that made her stomach rumble, and reminded her wolf that it had been a while since she'd eaten.
Silently, she padded forward, using the stacks of containers for cover. Her nocturnal vision adjusted to the dim light: irises eclipsing the whites, pupils enlarging, becoming more wolf than human. Her eyes cast everything before her in a golden glow. Her hands shifted to claws, fingers tipped in wicked carved talons, and her teeth elongated to sharp canines.
The soft sob of a child drew her onward and she slid behind a large steel drum. The musky odor of goat covered the entire area. Combined with the stench of human waste, it overwhelmed her sensitive nose, but she caught the unmistakable underlying scent of human children.
She peered over the edge of the open drum. The container was filled to the rim with black fluid. Curious, she dipped a finger into the liquid and lifted it to her nose for a quick sniff. Her brow shot up—ink?
Over the rim, she spotted four wrought iron cages dangling from chains suspended from the ceiling. Three contained small children—two boys and a girl. At a glance, they were between the ages of three and six.
Shock hit her in the gut, leaving her winded and paralyzed for precious seconds. A wave of nausea and horror overtook her. She had almost refused to come to their assistance. Thank the Goddess for Jasper's persistence. Fear warred with anger, not for herself, but for the youngsters. Without a doubt, she should have insisted that Rand accompany her.
The heavy clomp of hooves on concrete alerted her to the monster's location on the far side of the room. As she watched, a bipedal figure over ten feet tall stepped into view, a creature of horns and hooves, fur and tail. Two bright eyes rimmed in red were deep set within an elongated face. It had a broad nose, a small mouth that formed a nasty grin, a bearded chin, and elven ears. Clearly, he was male from the genitalia dangling between his hairy thighs.
Wiry black fur covered his entire body, forming a thick mane on the head and shoulders, thinning across the sides and arms, and thickening across his thighs. The horns swept back, mostly straight other than for a slight flare, more than two feet long. A whip-like tail grew from his tailbone, and the beast hunched forward due to the curvature of his spine. He had a five-fingered hand tipped in razor-sharp nails; the legs and hooves of a goat.
Adrenaline surged through her body, priming her for combat, but she hesitated to take on the immense beast alone, doubting her ability to win a one-on-one fight. The creature easily outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds. Why the hell had she sent Rand away?
Unexpectedly, the pack bond surged with a sudden jolt of fear and panic, flooding her mind. Immediately, she ducked behind the barrel, taking cover. She focused on the feeling, attempting to identify the source. Concentration provided the answer—Jasper. For a moment, she remained torn between saving the children and her pack mate's distress.
I need help killing that thing anyway. Caution won out and she beat a hasty retreat toward the rear entrance. Sides heaving, she stepped into the alleyway and pressed against the side of the building.
She dug her phone from her pocket, intending to call Rand or Sylvie. Before she had a chance to dial, the phone vibrated in her palm. She answered without looking at the display, assuming the caller to be one of her pack.
"Hello," she said.
There was a long pause, and then a man's voice emerged from the receiver. "I've got your boy."
Jake Barrett.
His baritone voice conveyed authority, the strength of his personality, and the sound of it made her blood run cold.
Victoria froze. Her grip on the cell phone tightened, knuckles turning white, and she twisted in order to scan the area around her. She saw no sign of hunters, and only caught a glimpse of the Rottweiler, peering at her from between his trash bins.
"Barrett," she said, sinking to a crouch. "Where is Jasper? So help me, if you've hurt him..."
"The boy is unharmed. So long as you do what I say, he'll be fine."
Her jaws tightened, her teeth clenched. "So, you've sunk to holding children hostage? Is that how it is, Barrett?"
"I want answers, Victoria," Jake spat out her name like a curse. Cold fury edged his voice. "I want to know how my son died. Once I have you, I'll let the boy go."
The weight of her guilt suffocated her, making it difficult to breathe, to move. Disgust filled her, a feeling close to self-hatred, and she welcomed the opportunity to finally end the awful, bloody conflict. Too many people on both sides had already died because of her failure. Perhaps it was fitting to allow her dead lover's father to be her judge, jury, and executioner.
"Fine," she snapped. "I'll surrender to you, but I want your word that Jasper and my pack go free."
"Agreed," he said, sounding vastly surprised. No doubt, he had expected her to refuse.
"First, we have another problem," Victoria said before he could continue. "I've followed the trail of a local child who was kidnapped to the lair of a monster. It's unlike anything I've ever seen before. It's got three kids in cages."
Silence ensued. Victoria imagined those thick gray Barrett eyebrows knitted into a scowl of consternation and she smirked. The man had devoted his life to hunting and destroying the monsters that preyed on innocents. There was no way he would walk away from this fight.
Jake grunted and papers rustled. "I saw an article on the kidnappings in the paper. If this is a ruse..."
"It's not."
"What does this monster look like?" Jake asked.
Victoria drew a deep breath, and described the goat-creature to him, going into great detail because she knew his knowledge of the occult to be far superior to her own.
He cut her off mid-description. "That sounds like a krampus."
"Don't know it," she said.
"It's an Old World devil," he said. "Originally from Germany and Austria but its kind has spread throughout Europe. It's a child thief. It steals children who have been naughty and then punishes them. It feeds on guilt. I've never heard of one in North America before."
"Great," Victoria said, interrupting what promised to turn into an unwanted history lesson. Krampus. Was it really a devil or was that a figure of speech? "How do I kill it?"
"Offhand, I've no idea," Jake said, adopting a brisk manner, devoid of animosity or any hint of the bad blood between them. The man possessed an amazing capacity to compartmentalize. "You'll have to wait until I get there."
"Fuck that, those kids need help," she said, but she gave him the address anyway. She had just finished when a sudden movement between the trash bins caught her attention.
Snarling and whining, the Rottweiler backed away quickly. Victoria caught the scent of goat and heard clomping hooves strike pavement. Twisting, she turned in time to see a huge fist descending toward her face. It struck her nose and her head exploded with pain, and then she knew only blackness.
Chapter Five
Victoria woke with a throbbing headache and a cramped spine due to her head being bowed forward, knees being forced up against her chest. She pried open one eyelid and discovered she had been imprisoned in a cage designed to hold a child. The confined dimensions left her with no room to stand or maneuver. The presence of cold iron bar
s told her the krampus was definitely not fey. Thanks to her enhanced healing, the pain in her head diminished rapidly. Unfortunately, she had lost her mobile phone when she was knocked out.
A glance about showed she occupied the last cage, formerly empty, in the row of four. About ten feet away, she spotted a workbench laden with sharp implements—knives, pokers, and even a pitch fork. Another steel drum full of ink stood beside the table. The krampus was not within view.
She turned her head to the side and found a boy with a tear-streaked face staring at her. The child stank of urine and feces. Her stomach heaved and she strove to keep all hints of anger from her face. The boy's eyes were bloodshot and chunks of dried snot clung to his skin. He looked like his mother.
"Are you Michael?" Victoria asked, keeping her voice soft. She sensed the other two children watching and listening, but they remained silent.
He stared at her, eyes widening, and gave a small nod. "How did you know?"
"Your mother is watching over you." Victoria wedged her fingers into the front pocket of her blue jeans and fished out the fire truck she had taken from the apartment. It required strenuous twisting, but she managed to get her hand through the bars and stretch her arm far enough to offer Michael the toy.
After a moment's hesitation, he reached out his hand and took it from her. "The monster is going to kill me next," he said. "It's already killed two other kids."
The little girl, who appeared to be at least a year younger than Michael, spoke up. "The monster made them drown."
Abruptly, Victoria made the mental connection between drowning and the drums full of black ink. Rage filled her heart, blinding her to reason. The children's fear evoked the protective instincts of her she-wolf and she clung to her humanity with a fragile thread of self-control. Only the thought of frightening the youngsters further kept her from undergoing the transformation to her wolf form.
Her hands closed on the bars of the cage and she tested their strength. The iron held. Her efforts sent her prison rocking crazily on its chain. "It's not going to hurt you," she said. "I'm going to kill it. I promise."
Their voices must have attracted the krampus's attention, because the devil returned on clomping hooves. Tail lashing, he paused to assess the situation and his attention centered upon Victoria's swinging cage. His red-rimmed eyes narrowed in clear annoyance. With mincing steps, he approached her and she smelled both doubt and desire on his skin.
Her eyes lit bright blue and she spoke with derision. "You're a coward," she said, sneering. "A child thief, preying on innocents. Come here and see if you can handle someone who's not afraid of you, goatboy."
The lovely, flute-like quality of the devil's voice surprised her. "Coward, I am not," he said. "It is my appointed task to punish wicked children. I am the son of the Goddess Hel, descended of Loki the Trickster."
The krampus reached for her cage and caught the sides. His hands were leathery, the backs covered in thick fur, those pointed nails clinked on the metal. He lowered his face to stare into her eyes. He had a dark aura, black at the center, tinted with dark red about the edges.
He whispered to her in that sweet falsetto. "My desire for sweet children; my usual feast. Your guilt, so delicious, beckons to me..."
Victoria ceased her efforts to bend the bars. She summoned her power, allowing it to spill across her skin and spread, a sparking golden glow. As Freya's priestess, she understood passion. The krampus craved guilt, and so she offered hers readily. She wallowed in the suffocating mire, offering up her shame and pain over Daniel's death as a sumptuous meal.
The krampus's pupils dilated and his mouth gaped open. A thick ruby-red tongue slid past his lips and then flicked against the iron bars. As he reached for the lock of her cage, the scent of his arousal flooded her nostrils.
Disgust turned her stomach but she hid it. She remained still while the devil opened the cage. The doors of the cage swung on concealed hinges, parting wide to either side, and at last she understood how the krampus had gotten her into the confined space in the first place.
Whimpers and sobs rose from the children, but Victoria ignored them and kept her attention focused on her prey. When the krampus reached for her, she opened her arms as if to embrace him and grasped his forearms with an unbreakable grip. He lifted her without effort. She kept her guilt front and center, concentrating on remaining still until they were clear of the cages. She had to make sure the kids were out of the path of danger.
With her dangling from his grasp, the krampus straightened to his full height. He gazed at her with lustful eyes. "I shall suck your soul. Drain you dry. You shall sustain me for a long, long time," he said.
His sulfuric breath filled her nostrils, causing her to gag. His thick ruby tongue snaked from the corner of his mouth, approaching her face with a sinuous motion. He licked her cheek, leaving a trail of hot saliva running toward her jaw.
Victoria's eyes flashed, blue irises eclipsing her whites, and a furious growl rumbled deep in her throat. She jerked her head to the side, turning toward the devil's tongue, and her jaws distended, pushing into the form of a muzzle. Her snapping teeth grew sharp.
In a blink, she caught the krampus's tongue in her mouth and bit clean through the offending appendage, severing it neatly in half. Hot blood filled her mouth and she swallowed the chunk of flesh whole. The meal hit her empty stomach, causing her sides to clench, and she immediately craved more.
With a howl of agony, the krampus released his hold on her, but she held on tight. His bleeding tongue whipped back into his mouth and his hand flew to cover the injury. He jerked away and would have escaped her grasp except that she clung to him with all of her strength.
Clutching the devil's forearms, Victoria continued her transformation into a wolf, acquiring height and weight as a result of the change. Her hands underwent a painful contortion—the bones of her fingers lengthened, snow white fur burst from her skin, and razor-sharp claws pushed from the fingertips.
She used her talons to dig into the krampus's forearms, creating deep rents in his flesh. Her musculature became heavier, ropey sinew standing out beneath her skin, bones breaking and reforming as her body pushed and pulled into the shape of a wolf. Her clothing stretched and then split, first her shirt and then her jeans. Her feet tore through her shoes.
Through an act of enormous discipline, Victoria halted the change midway. Her fighting form bestowed all the advantages of her wolf's strength and natural weaponry while enabling her to remain bipedal. She retained her hands and rudimentary speech.
The krampus stared at her in astonishment. "What are you?"
Victoria smiled to show all of her teeth. Saliva glistened, causing them to gleam, so very white. "The big, bad wolf, come to gobble you up, goatboy."
The krampus snarled and grabbed hold of her forearms again. His sharp nails dug deep into her flesh and created deep gouges. He retained a considerable height advantage over her and swung her as if she weighed no more than a feather.
Victoria struck the wall with a brutal thud, slamming her arm, her side and her leg into the concrete. She felt ribs snap and the grip in her left hand weakened enough to allow the devil to rip free. Still gripping her right arm, he hefted her higher and spun her again.
The second impact caught her shoulders and upper back. She lost her hold on the devil and he tossed her into a wall of shelves. She crashed to the floor amidst falling boxes and containers and lay stunned for a second while a fog of pain enveloped her head.
The sound of a hoof striking concrete caused her to look up in time to see the krampus lower his head. She immediately rolled to her feet, crouching on all fours, and tensed in preparation for his next attack.
Neck bowed like a bull, he charged straight at her, seeking to impale her on those long horns. His breath heaved with the power of a train engine and his hooves clattered like thunder as he bore down on her. Victoria waited until the last possible second and then stepped to the side with a deft twist.
&n
bsp; Head first, the krampus slammed into the same shelves she had struck, causing the few that remained intact to come crashing down. She delivered a quick bite to his hindquarters, seeking to sever his tendons. She ripped a chunk of flesh free from his leg, filling her mouth with raw flesh and hot blood. He tasted of goat, rich but gamey, causing her empty stomach to grumble. She swallowed the mouthful in a single gulp and went back for more, except her jaws closed on empty air.
Snarling, Victoria leapt upon the devil's back. Her snapping jaws drove toward his throat. As he rose, she secured a bite hold, sinking her teeth deep into the heavily muscled flesh about his jugular. She pressed her body against the rampaging devil's chest, wrapping her arms and legs about his barrel torso, and dug in with her claws.
The krampus roared and charged into another set of shelves, striking it with his full weight while she nimbly avoided any further impact. More debris rained about them and for a full minute the krampus caused greater injury to himself than her. The whole time, she clung to his throat with all of the strength in her jaws, waiting until suffocation weakened him enough for her to deal the killing blow.
Panting for breath, the krampus ground to a halt, collapsing onto his knees, so her feet touched the ground. He turned his great strength toward attempting to pry her free. Those wickedly sharp nails raked her back, creating deep rents in her flesh. Her head swum with pain, red filling her vision, but Victoria maintained her suffocating bite on his throat.
The krampus sought softer flesh, bringing his hands to her ribcage, seeking to disembowel her. Victoria attempted to block his attack with her arms but she acted too slowly. She braced, anticipating the crippling pain of a gut injury, when Jake Barrett appeared behind the devil. He had another hunter, Skinner, the black man, with him.
Jake dropped a thick length of chain over the devil's head. Victoria immediately released his throat from her jaws and dropped to the floor where she landed on her back. One of the beast's hooves struck her elbow, sending a painful jolt through her joint. She growled and rolled to the side in order to avoid being trampled further.
The Child Thief (Loki's Wolves) Page 3
