"We'll get her back," said Anna, slipping into the seat next to mine.
I shook myself out of my thoughts and turned to my old friend.
"Of course we will," I replied.
"You looked depressed," she said.
"Just thinking."
She nodded and kept her gaze level.
"I'd worry more about the vampires that took her," she said.
My face creased into a humorless grin.
"I just hope she leaves us some vamps to kill. I'd hate to get there too late for the party."
She stared at me for a few seconds before nodding.
"Watch out, here comes the flight attendant with the boobs," I whispered.
The flight attendant had been showing her cleavage to all of the guys—including Cam—throughout the flight and was getting on my nerves. Not that I minded being flirted with, but this was dumb corpsebait, probably annoyed that none of us men were vamps she could try to get into bed.
"We'll be landing in a few minutes." she simpered with that annoying type of voice that turns every statement into an invitation to wild sex. The woman could make 'good morning' sound like sexual harassment.
Since the last time she'd wiggled past us she'd undone another button on her striped blouse and now I could see the lacy edge of her pink bra.
"If you'll fasten your seatbelts and return your seats to their upright positions, thank you." she continued.
As she wiggled away Anna leaned in close to me.
"I'd have to check but I think she's a bit disappointed that nobody asked her to join them in the toilet," she whispered.
"Are you kidding?" I whispered back. "I wouldn't fuck that with somebody else's dick."
She left, laughing, and moved back to sit by her husband. With my seatbelt fastened I went back to staring out of the window.
CHAPTER
35
We'd made it to a little depression where we could stop and take stock. I turned to look at my new companion. He was about my height, but much broader in the shoulders and chest. His fur looked almost black in the moonlight and his eyes glinted yellow.
"What was that?" I growled in my lupine voice.
"Unners," he growled back. "Yoo-muns.
I was stunned. Human hunters? Hunting werewolves?
The wolf was wounded; a shot had hit him in the upper arm and gone right through. A bloody, painful wound but not a major problem. It would, however, slow him down.
I caught the scent of the hunters, upwind of us. Dumb idiots.
"Wait here," I said.
I rose and skirted around the hollow, circling the hunters. Their scent carried clear and sharp through the forest: gun oil being the most pervasive scent beneath the pall of alcohol. The hunters had made a party of it and they reeked of beer. Beer and guns, what a wonderful mix. Serious hunters would have been disgusted at the idea.
I crept forward until I could see them. There were four of them: two were puzzling over a hand-held electronic device, one was picking his nose and staring off into space, and the fourth was drinking from a can of beer.
I picked up a small stone and lightly lobbed it over to my left.
When the four hunters turn towards the noise I leap into the clearing. I keep a tight grip on my instincts. I don’t want to kill these humans. The first hunter is down, his rifle flung into the trees, his wind taken by a punch to the gut by the time the group realizes I’m behind them. The second joins his friend by the time they start to turn. The third is on the ground as the last—the nose picker—is bringing up his rifle. I grab the barrel and yank as it goes off, the shot hitting a tree behind me. His rifle whirls into the darkness. I grab his bright orange jacket and yank him towards me, teeth bared, growling. I smell the earthy scent of his bowels letting go.
“Don’t hunt werewolves,” I growl into his face.
Then I throw him on top of his friends and I am gone.
CHAPTER
36
“Well that’s great,” I said, peering out of the Swan’s tiny window. “We’ve got a protest going on.”
As the supersonic jet taxied I could see a respectably sized group of people on the other side of the fence. Signs like “VAMPIRES OUT!”, “MOTHERS AGAINST MONSTERS” and “NO BLOODSUCKERS AROUND OUR CHILDREN” were being shaken in the approved ‘up and down’ manner. Actually, looking at the group through my binoculars I could see that the sign actually read “MOTHER’S AGAINST MONSTERS” but you can’t have everything, unless the person holding the sign was trying to let people know that her mother was against monsters. Anything is possible.
Ordinarily I would be delighted to see our American cousins out and fighting back, but this time was different. Of course, the protesters didn't know that their target was a vampire who completely agreed with them. It could be dangerous.
“Orders?” said John, taking a turn with the binoculars.
“Okay,” I said. “Nothing new, we’ve all done CP before. I want standard formation, Anna is the subject so Jason will take Anna’s place in the … yes?”
I trailed off because Jason had raised his hand.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jack,” he said.
“You never did Close Protection training in the Parasite Regiment?”
He gave me a long-suffering look.
“No, we left that up to the Royal Latrines,” he said sarcastically. “Of course we did some training but it was like a one afternoon course and then it was off to jumping out of planes and practicing how to kill Johnny Foreigner.”
I paused and thought quickly.
“Okay. Jason, back to basics. CP is Close Protection, that means it’s up to us to protect the subject, in this case Anna.”
Jason nodded and inclined his head to Anna.
“Cam will take point, Bolt off to the front and left, I’ll take front and right. John, I want you on her right. Jason, you’ll take left flank, Take your cues from John. I want you about three feet from her left shoulder and about two feet behind her. If anything happens, you and John are directly responsible for her safety. Get her on the ground and cover her. When it’s time to move again follow John’s lead and do whatever he tells you to do.”
“Okay,” he said.
“We’ll be making our way at speed, through the airport, to the limousine so thoughtfully provided by our hosts. On the way we’ll be picking up a friend or two. When we get there, John will get in first, then Anna, then you, then the rest of us. Clear?”
“Yessir,” he replied.
“Boss,” said Cam. “His title is ‘boss’. ‘Sir’ is for officers and others who don’t work for a living.”
I hid a grin by turning back to the window. Cam had picked up on that particular rank prejudice fairly quickly.
“Okay, I want this fast and efficient. We’re supposed to be professional security guards so let’s at least pretend like we know what we’re doing.”
There was a chorus of affirmatives.
“Comms check,” I said, pushing the transmit button on my radio.
One by one my team clicked their radios in response, each burst of sound coming through my earpiece loud and clear.
“Okay, check. Let’s move.”
Cam stalked to the front of the narrow passenger cabin where the flight attendant with the boobs was opening the door and giving the big werewolf her brightest smile. He ignored her and stepped out into the tunnel. After a second we heard the double-click of his radio: the all-clear.
CHAPTER
37
The male werewolf led me through the trees, clutching his wounded arm. I’d done my best, tearing his t-shirt into strips and binding the wound as well as I could, but he’d need to get some medical attention pretty soon. The hunters had been using silver-tipped rounds by the look of the wound.
The male had beckoned me to follow him and, lacking any other options, I’d decided to do so. Maybe the male would have a phonebook or internet access and I could get in contact with the Mi
nistry or, failing that, the Embassy.
The male’s house was fairly big and looked like it had been carefully tended, with a very neat lawn and garden surrounded by a white wooden fence. It was also surrounded by the scent of several other werewolves.
I had thought—hoped—that the male might have been a loner. My adrenaline stared flowing and my stomach tightened. If this was pack territory I could be in a lot of trouble.
The male stopped, sniffing the air. He turned and made a questioning noise and I tensed further. Suddenly he gave a short, barking laugh and beckoned me inside, shaking his head and chuckling.
Not exactly reassuring but at least he seemed to understand why I was tense.
He led me around to the back of the house and opened a door. I noticed that the handle was larger than you’d normally expect—so he could operate it with his paw, I decided—and we stepped into a kitchen straight out of one of those home and garden magazines. Blue and white checks and spotless surfaces were the dominant themes, from the curtains over the sink to the tablecloth on the table. Seated at the table was a handsome woman with silver hair and a happy, careworn face. Her expression became concerned when she saw the bandage around the male’s arm.
“Perry!” she called over her shoulder as she stood up. “Kyle’s home and he’s hurt! Bring my things.”
“Oh Lord,” came a male voice from inside the house. “Hunters again?”
“And he’s brought a friend with him,” she called back.
Kyle gave me a sheepish look and shrugged.
“Come on, dear,” said the woman. “Take a seat and visit with us for a spell.”
She gently took my arm and led me over to the table. A small man with graying hair and spectacles bustled in, carrying an old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag. He gave me a puzzled smile and placed the bag on the table.
So far I was suffering from culture shock more than anything. This pleasant family scene was not what I had expected from a halfbreed pack.
“Now honey,” said the woman, pulling a chair over so she could sit next to Kyle. “I need you to change.”
Kyle closed his eyes and I politely looked away. When I looked back Kyle was human. He had a thatch of light brown hair and hazel eyes set in a pleasant, open face. He had a lean body with a deep tan and the kind of calloused hands that spoke of long hours of hard work.
Changing had triggered a fresh flow of blood from the wound and the woman busied herself peeling the bandages off.
“Now I’ve told you before, don’t go playing with the hunters,” she said.
“Aw, Mom,” said Kyle.
“Oh he just loves to tease the hunters,” she said, winking at me. “Sometimes they manage to clip him.”
“Mom, I wasn’t teasing them,” said Kyle. “I was watching them. You know they took a shot at young Willie the other day.”
“Willie’s human!” burst out the old man. “I’ll to go see Sheriff MacKenzie about that. Those hunters are a menace.”
“See that you do, Perry,” said the woman. “And where are your manners? Show our guest to the downstairs bathroom so she can tidy herself up.”
I gave her a grateful smile. Changing in front of strangers was a big no-no for most wolves—Kyle had been an emergency and he was on his home turf—so her offer of privacy was much appreciated.
The older man led me down a corridor to an open door. He reached in and flicked on the light, revealing a small bathroom every bit as neat as the kitchen.
“There’s a brush on the sink and clean towels in the closet if you want a shower. Just come on back to the kitchen when you’re done.”
“Thank you,” I said, aiming for politeness in my horrible wolf voice.
“Oh, you’re welcome, miss,” he replied.
I closed the bathroom door and took a look at myself in the mirror. I looked wild. There were twigs and leaves in my hair and my fur was sticking up in clumps, so I peeled off my fighting suit and went to work with the brush.
After a few minutes I felt and looked a whole lot better. Once I was done with my fur I changed into my human form. Normally I enjoyed the feeling of changing, the sensation of my entire body flowing from wolf to human, but I was tired and on edge. I was glad to get it over with. The face in the mirror had dark circles under the eyes. I was covered in grime and didn’t smell very sweet, so I decided to take that shower and felt much better afterwards.
Then, dried, dressed and refreshed, I made my way back to the family.
Kyle was sitting at the table, his arm neatly bandaged, wearing a sleeveless t-shirt. His eyes widened when he saw my human form.
“Well hello,” said the woman. “Aren’t you just the prettiest little thing? I’m Pauline but everyone calls me ‘Pol’, this is my husband, Perry, and our oldest son, Kyle.”
“I’m Marie,” I said, smiling. “Is Kyle going to be okay?”
“Oh he’ll be fine, miss,” said Perry. “But what about you? You’re not from around here?”
“Oh well of course she’s not. Just listen to her accent. She’s from Louisiana.”
I opened my mouth to say something but Pol winked at me.
“I think she’s from a little east of Louisiana, Pol,” said Perry.
“I’d say so,” she said. “Why don’t you sit down and tell us why you’re so far from home?”
Home. Just the sound of the word brought a lump to my throat. I sat down and Perry placed a mug of coffee on the table in front of me. I told them all about what had happened as Pol made us something to eat. I was hesitant at first but Pol was making nasty comments about “those damn vampires”. That relaxed me.
“So how are you going to get home?” asked Perry.
“I don’t know,” I replied, tucking into the gigantic stack of pancakes Pol had made for me. “If you have a phone I could use I could try contacting the British embassy.”
“We don’t have a phone,” said Kyle, who was paying serious attention to his own pancakes. “Dad won’t have one since our local cooperative sold out to the conglomerates.”
“Damn straight,” said Perry. “Thirty years I gave them and the new owners fired the lot of us because it wasn’t ‘cost effective’ to keep an office in the area. Why we’re worried about the vampires when we have so many human bloodsuckers around is what bugs me. No vampire ever sat me down and told me I was going to lose my job because they wanted to ‘take a synergistic approach to the business paradigm’ whatever that means.”
“Aw, dad,” said Kyle. “The vampires are worse. They want our blood and our money. You remember how hard it was before we came out? The vampires could hunt us whenever they wanted. At least now we have rights.”
My eyebrows shot up and I almost choked on the mouthful I had.
“You’re werewolves too?” I said to Perry and Pol.
“Well of course we are, hun,” said Pol. “Why?”
“So you were born a werewolf?” I asked Kyle.
He nodded.
“Then you’re in more danger than you thought,” I replied, pushing my plate away. “I didn’t think there were any purebreeds left in the USA.”
“Purebreeds?” asked Perry.
“He was born rather than made, that means he’s a purebreed,” I turned back to Kyle. “That means vampires can’t dominate you in your wolf form. They hate us.”
“You’re one of these ‘purebreeds’ too?” said Kyle.
“Yes, and as soon as the vampires become aware of you they’ll kill you.”
“Why would they do that? I’ve never done anything to them!”
“They’ll kill you because they can’t control you,” I said quietly. “You’re a threat to them.”
I told them about my pack, about how the vampires had attacked us, killing many and scattering the rest, because we represented a threat to their plans for England.
“Well how can we protect him?” asked Pol.
“Do you belong to a pack?” I asked.
“No, dad’s a traditio
nalist,” said Kyle in an exasperated tone of voice.
“Don’t say it like that, son,” said Perry. “The idea of the wolf pack is a human invention. In the wild, wolves don’t form packs like they do in fiction. A wolf pack is just a mating pair and their young. When a young becomes old enough to mate they leave the pack and start their own. This notion of the alpha male ruling by strength is pure human fiction.”
“Maybe for wolves, but we’re werewolves,” I pointed out. “It’s different.”
“Only because some werewolf generations ago decided it should be different.”
“Well, humans are hierarchical by nature, and we are from humans,” said Pol.”
“Mom, dad, let’s not do this again,” said Kyle. “Marie needs our help.”
“Of course, sorry young lady,” said Perry.
“We don’t have a phone but you can stay here tonight and in the morning I’ll bring you to Terry’s house,” said Kyle. “You can use his phone.”
“Thank you Kyle,” I said earnestly.
“And, in the meantime,” said Pol, smiling brightly, “you can tell us about yourself. Are you married? Because Kyle’s single and he’d make a great catch.”
“Aw, ma,” said Kyle, rolling his eyes.
I laughed and shook my head.
“I have a mate,” I said. “Jack.”
“Oh,” said Pol. “Do you have any sisters who are single?”
“Ma!”
CHAPTER
38
We were heading down the Interstate in a big black limousine with dark tinted windows and, apparently, armored sides. Several miles behind us sat the KnightStar limousine and its driver. I didn’t like having my movements monitored so my contact had arranged for alternate transportation.
My contact was sitting in the front passenger seat—on the wrong side of the car, from my perspective—looking back at us. He was using the codename Loki. He was a dark-skinned, slender man with a shaven head and a bright, mischievous smile. He looked like what he was, the son of Jamaican immigrants. When he opened his mouth, though, his accent was pure north London.
Renegade (Ministry of Paranormal Research & Defence) Page 10
