Hounds of God: A Werewolf Urban Fantasy Novel (Cursed Night Book 1)

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Hounds of God: A Werewolf Urban Fantasy Novel (Cursed Night Book 1) Page 7

by Justin Sloan

“A monster. Who knows how many may have died at my hand.”

  “No, not your hand. It isn’t you.”

  She turned to him, eyes narrowed. Who was he to presume to know her situation?

  He held up a hand to show he didn’t mean to overstep his bounds. “My friend says none of us are beyond redemption.”

  “Your friend’s never met me.”

  He eyed her, cautiously, then moved over to the window next to her. “There was this cult in the 15th Century, they believed they turned into wolves and fought off witches. And if those werewolves fought off evil, maybe….”

  “Enough.”

  “You black out, right?” he continued. “Doesn’t that show you that you’re good, deep down? Your conscience can’t accept the beast within, but if you learned to control it….?”

  “I just want to be rid of this curse.”

  “And if you’re all that stands between the others and the destruction of man—”

  “What do you know about the others?” She spun on him, feeling her heartbeat thumping hard in her temples. “Who are you?”

  He simply stared at her, his compassionate, blue eyes pulling her into his comfort. For a moment, she wanted to collapse into his arms and shut off the whole world, but she pushed the thought aside, and held up the wall in her chest.

  “Everything that happened up to now,” he said, “it wasn’t your fault.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  She grabbed her tattered jacket and stormed out of there. Luckily the town was small, so there wasn’t much room to get lost. Quaint street lamps reminded her of a story she’d read as a child, something about a girl traveling to a world of magic and that lamp post being her guide back. Perhaps this little village would be Katherine’s road back to a normal life.

  She found herself in the square in front of the church, cobblestones with pigeons huddled up in one corner, a mom helping her son to sip something in a Styrofoam cup in the other.

  “So?” Triston said from behind, causing her to jump.

  “I didn’t say you could follow me.”

  He shrugged. “Is the silver working?”

  After a moment of debating how much to like him, she nodded. “Maybe?”

  “You have to know if it works or not.”

  “It’s not like that, not exactly,” she said. “Some nights it takes longer before the changes come.”

  “So how would you know?” he asked.

  She reached up and fidgeted with one of the earrings before getting it loose. Instantly she could hear the voice of the mom, telling her son to drink his chocolate milk if he wanted to stay warm.

  Katherine put the earring back in, taking a moment to process this.

  “Tell me it worked,” Triston said, hopeful.

  It was like a fountain of chocolate bubbling up inside her, this excitement. She almost jumped up and down, but instead turned and threw her arms around him.

  “It works!” she said, then remembered herself and stepped back, feeling the red go to her cheeks. A little less loud she said, “I can’t believe it.”

  He put a hand to his mouth, eyes wide in amazement. “If this could work on all nights…?”

  “Even on the full moon,” she finished for him. “I’d be… normal.”

  Triston considered her, then stepped forward and brushed her hair back. “Regular ol’ Kat.”

  “What’re you doing?” She swiped his hand away as she stepped back. This little action filled her mind with images of Danny—the way he’d used to look at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. The time he’d helped her go back to her old school to check on her friends, only to truly realize how she could never return to them. And the night she’d lost him to Hunter.

  “I really didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, eyeing her cautiously.

  “Just… don’t.”

  He winced as she took another step away. “I can still help.”

  “I don’t wanna overstay my welcome.”

  She turned to walk away, with every intention of leaving him behind. But something caught her attention—a scent in the wind, not strong, but familiar, like olive oil and gunpowder. She ducked back to where Triston was and pulled him around the side of the church, where she put a finger to his lips.

  At first his eyes were playful, but he must have seen the panic in hers.

  “I recognize that scent,” she said in a whisper.

  He looked offended. “Sorry?”

  She leaned around the corner, double-checking. There he was, the man who’d killed Danny—Hunter. He was walking right for them, eyes searching. Just before his eyes came to meet hers, she ducked back around the building and took off in a sprint, dragging Triston behind her.

  “What’s happening here?” Triston asked as they moved to the back of the church and found a side-street to duck into.

  “Unwanted company.”

  Another turn and they entered a dark alley. Bottles clanked not far behind. Hunter was close behind, but the alley had no escape route. Katherine spun, eyes searching for the best option. Perhaps it was time she stayed and fought.

  “This way,” Triston said, already climbing onto a car and leaping to pull down a fire escape.

  They shimmied their way up and were glad to find the window unlocked. Inside, she made sure the place was empty. Triston peeked outside from behind the red curtains to make sure they weren’t followed.

  “I don’t see him,” he said, squinting to see her in the dark room. “He was the one, right? The one with the silver bullets?”

  Her hand went to the wound in her shoulder, now mostly a scar thanks to her quick healing. She nodded.

  The scent—it was back. She turned, wide eyed, and ran for Triston to shove him aside just as Hunter came plowing through, kicking her to the ground and raising his pistol to fire. Triston knocked it aside and it went flying out into the hallway. Taking advantage of the distraction, Katherine sent Hunter flipping through the air with a kick.

  Triston made for the door, but Katherine lunged at Hunter, embracing the beast within—claws out, held to Hunter’s neck. She was ready to tear him to shreds, but Triston stood there, looking at her in horror, and said, “Kat, let’s go.”

  She snarled, feeling the haze in her mind that took over the more wolf-like she became. She pulled back her claws.

  “You can’t do this!” Triston shouted. “It’s not you!”

  “And how would you know what’s me and what’s not?!”

  “I just… do.”

  She clenched her fist, feeling the claws tear into her own hand. “Every full moon more bodies, my mind blank. What’s one more?”

  “This time will be different,” Triston said.

  Hunter stared up at them, eyes unflinching. Katherine wanted so bad to just end it, but Triston was right. When she was in control, she couldn’t stand the idea of taking another life.

  She slammed Hunter’s head against the floorboards and shouted, “I’m not a killer. Stop chasing me!”

  With a growl, she followed Triston out through the window. When he pulled her by the shoulder to get her attention, she nearly tore his head off.

  “This way!” he shouted, motioning to a car and holding up a key.

  It took her a moment to process what he was saying, with the chaos of the moment, but then she was with him, in the car, and they were speeding off along the mountain road. A Toyota Corolla came around the bend and blared its horn as they almost hit it—the only lights came from their headlights, and Katherine was certain they’d go flying off the edge of the mountain at any minute.

  “Your friend’s car?” she asked after the moment of panic had passed, still catching her breath.

  “Mauro. Yes.”

  She turned in her seat to look back and make sure there was no sign of Hunter. Safe, for now. Next was to add more silver. The small bag of earrings was in her coat pocket, just where she’d left it.

  Fidgeting around in the near-dark car, she searched for the hole
in her ears and worked to try and get the earring in. It was harder than she thought.

  “Is that necessary right now?” Triston asked. He turned on the passenger roof light and flipped down the mirror.

  “We have to do this now,” she said. “Before he finds me again.”

  “You think it’ll help?”

  “It has to.”

  She held up one of the small loops, assessed her eyebrow, and ignored the nervous glances from Triston.

  “You know, doing that wrong can paralyze half your face,” he said. “Or so I hear, anyway.”

  She jammed the silver point through her left eyebrow and cursed at the shooting pain. It hurt, but she didn’t seem paralyzed.

  “Lucky me,” she said, and he laughed nervously.

  She inserted the silver loop, ignoring the blood that was dripping past her eye. Next she smiled into the mirror, cringing slightly. Triston flinched too—he must have noticed her pointed teeth.

  “If my theory’s right,” she said, then jammed a silver loop through her lip. “Mother f—URR!”

  Blood dripped down her chin and she had to scrunch up the top of her shirt to stop it. Triston swerved into a mountain lookout point, where he stopped the car and turned on the top lights.

  “If he’s following—”

  “We would’ve seen him by now.” Triston checked the glove compartment and smiled, pulling out a small first aid kit.

  “Didn’t I tell you I heal fast?” she said. “I don’t need it.”

  “But with the silver, your ability to heal fast may be diminished, and you don’t want those holes healing up on you.”

  He had a good point. She smiled, and he didn’t cringe this time.

  “Did it work?” She looked in the mirror and laughed with joy. In spite of all the blood, her smile looked like a normal woman’s smile—no wolf teeth! “This is huge. It’s just... it’s like I have a whole new life.”

  Triston dabbed at her eyebrow and then her lip, before applying rubbing alcohol. She pulled back, but he held her chin with his other hand, firm as he dabbed her lip. He paused there, eyes on her lips, and his hand went from holding her chin to caressing her cheek. A small shiver ran up her spine and she turned away, back toward the road they’d come.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  For a moment she sat there in silence, then said, “He’s been hunting us as long as I can remember.”

  “I….”

  “I just want to stop running, I want all this to be over.”

  “Maybe it is?” he said, placing a hand on hers. “You gave him quite the scare back there.”

  “He’s had worse.” She pulled her hand back. “We can’t stay here.”

  He nodded and turned the car back on.

  Chapter 10: New Recruits

  Danny walked among the new werewolf recruits, still stuck as humans, hoping Aldrick would give them “the blessing,” as they called it. Like he’d had Danny and the others do in their youth, Aldrick had his new soldiers training. Here in this field out in the middle of nowhere Spokane, where they’d driven to the night before, they’d set up in a field where they could practice with pistols. Back toward the barn they were staying at, which was a tough stay compared to the mansion, the soldiers were stabbing stuffed dummies with k-bar blades, others circling each other as they sparred.

  Unlike the training Danny remembered, this time it was serious. It wasn’t a bunch of kids being brainwashed as they trained. It was grown men and women already one-hundred percent committed, training with knives and guns.

  And if he understood this correctly, it wasn’t just these men and women.

  “You want in there, say the word,” Gregor said, standing in the shadows of a tall evergreen. “No better time like the present to see if you’ve gone soft.”

  “Ask all your soldiers that I took down whether I’ve gone soft,” Danny replied. There were plenty around that glared at him from the corners of their eyes, after the butt kicking he’d given them back on the mountain.

  “Funny.” Gregor folded his arms and assessed Danny. “I was thinking you’d go up against a real opponent.”

  The bait was tempting, but Danny managed to let it pass. Instead he turned and strolled off, doing his best to look like he didn’t give a damn.

  “Don’t walk away from me,” Gregor demanded, stomping over to catch up.

  “You want a fight?” Danny spun on him, ready for anything. “Well I want answers.”

  “Lucky for me,” Gregor clenched his fists so that his knuckled cracked as one, “I say what goes around here.”

  “Wrong,” Aldrick said, and the two turned to see him approaching. “Gregor, your men need help with their hand-to-hand.”

  “I was just showing this piece of—”

  “We all know what you were doing.” Aldrick raised an eyebrow and stood, waiting.

  Like a petulant child, Gregor stuck out his lower jaw and glared. For a moment, it seemed he’d strike his master, but he finally turned and walked away.

  “Not an easy one to control,” Aldrick said. He turned to Danny and smiled like a father would to his son. “It’s good to have you back.”

  “I haven’t said I’m back.”

  “We’ll need leaders, men like you,” Aldrick said, ignoring the statement. “Men to lead the various camps.”

  Danny furrowed his brow. So there was more than one of these places? Training, what, hundreds of soon-to-be-werewolves for this mad man’s army? Danny would have to learn more, to see what he was up against if he decided to turn against them. Katherine was still out there, and he was certain she’d want to do everything in her power to stop this. Well, he was mostly certain. It really depended on this search of hers, this unending quest for a cure. If perhaps he could get her to see how hopeless it was, their next goal could be to at least stop this army of werewolves from happening.

  “I—I’d like that,” he said, hoping that Aldrick wouldn’t notice the lie.

  Whether Aldrick did or not wasn’t clear, but he smiled and took Danny in an embrace, before holding him out and looking him over with that big smile.

  “Gregor’s right though,” he said. “You’ve grown soft. We’ll have to get you back in the swing of things before giving you command.”

  “Whatever you recommend.” This next part, Danny hated, but he said it to keep up appearances, “I am here to serve.”

  “The greater good,” Aldrick said. “Let us never forget.”

  Chapter 11: A Rest

  Katherine awoke with a start, but relaxed at the sight of Triston at the wheel. He had his blinker on, and turned onto a road that led past multicolored pastel buildings on one side, the coast on the other. Triston pulled over near a large rock at the edge of town.

  “I could use a resupply on snacks,” he said as he turned off the car. “And a stretch.”

  She yawned and agreed, and then followed him out of the car. It was a gorgeous day. The sun shone enough to be warm but the salty, cool breeze kept it from getting too hot. The water glistened, and she leaned against the car, watching a small speed-boat send waves toward them.

  “I suppose you have a next step in mind,” she asked.

  “We should head north, look for my friend, Mauro.”

  “And risk being caught at the border?” she shook her head. “Who knows what sort of people will be looking for us at this point. The others of my kind, Hunter… the cops.”

  He sighed deeply, frowning at her. Then he chuckled.

  “What?” she said, annoyed.

  “You just look so ridiculous with all that silver in your face.” He took his phone from his pocket and held it up, looking at her. “Say silver!”

  “Cut it out,” she said, laughing as he took a picture. She went to his side and took the phone to see the photo, and laughed again. “I do look ridiculous.”

  She had washed the blood, and the wounds were basically healed, but with the silver shining from her ears, eyebrow, and lip, she reminded herself
of some punk rocker she’d seen on magazine covers when she was growing up.

  “We’ll just say you’re in a band,” Triston said, as if he was reading her mind.

  “It’s working, anyway,” she said with a smile his way. “I mean, no transforming last night.”

  He held her gaze for a moment, then moved around to stand beside her. “Come on, our turn.” With the camera held out and one arm around her, he took a selfie of the two of them.

  They found a little store with fruit and olives for sale, then took a walk among the trees that led down toward the water.

  He stopped at one point, a cliff before them, and tossed a pebble out into the water below. They stood there, looking out over the water for a while. Katherine’s thoughts wandered back to Danny, their first explorations into the caves of Arizona and the various searches for anything related to werewolf lore. For a while she’d tried to convince him that there had to be something in all the fiction written about them, and even picked up a whole series about packs of werewolves in a turf war that turned out to be more of a love triangle. By the time she finished the third book, she’d realized that she was reading more for the sensual looks and touches in those pages than any actual hope of finding answers.

  Danny had been more into the history books, looking at any sort of legend that related to religion or ghost stories. Most of those turned out to be sick, deranged men who did vile things and claimed to be werewolves. They might have actually been, Katherine had to admit, but more likely than not they were wannabes—people who weren’t even sure werewolves existed, but were just deranged enough to think of being one as some sort of fantasy.

  And where did Triston fit into all this? She glanced over and saw that he was staring at her in his curious way. He knew about werewolves from before, and that scared her. She was about to ask him about it, when he said, “I should tell you something.”

  “Don’t feel obliged to open up to me,” she said, with more irritation in her voice than she could explain. Maybe it was the thoughts of Danny and all her other memories flooding through her mind, and the pressing knowledge that it was all in the past. The kind of past that would never repeat itself.

 

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