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

by Justin Sloan

  “But I want to,” he said. “I think you should know…. My family was killed by werewolves.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “It was a long time ago, it was… another life.”

  “Yet you’re here, with me.” She shook her head, confused. “What did you do?”

  “I ran,” he said. “No one would listen to a frightened man, babbling about werewolves. The police filed it as unsolved, and my family’s death went unanswered for. But my friend Mauro took me in, listened to my story, believed me.”

  “So that’s the Mauro connection.” She looked at him, put a hand on his forearm. “I know how it feels.”

  He nodded, put a hand on hers. For a moment she found herself lost in his eyes, the two sharing a connection she didn’t think would be possible in her state, and she wondered if he was going to kiss her. Part of her wanted it more than anything, but the other part knew the moment was wrong. It felt like she was outside of her body, looking at the two of them, wanting to scream at herself for letting her vulnerability and grief affect her emotions. But she told that outside self to shut up, because another part of her felt this was exactly what she needed—a human connection, and more than just a friendly one.

  Neither side really won, as he smiled and then turned to walk down the path. A sigh of relief came regardless, and she bit her lip, wondering what had come over her. She caught up with a skip and took his hand again. He held her hand with both of his, fingers caressing hers as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how, so was letting it come out through touch.

  They reached a point where the path turned, and a shadow came into view. Katherine’s heart skipped a beat—was that a pistol?

  She crouched back, ready to strike, holding Triston beside her.

  An old man appeared around the bend, with the top of his cane obviously what she had mistaken for the pistol. An old woman came along behind him, and started when she saw Katherine ready to pounce.

  Triston pulled Katherine up to standing and nodded at the couple with an apology for scaring them.

  “Just a game she plays,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

  The old man laughed and gave her a wink, then continued on, with the woman taking his arm.

  Katherine found herself watching them go, jealousy taking over.

  “The normal life,” she said.

  “It’s not beyond you,” Triston replied.

  “Everyone I love is dead.” She found herself caressing her stone necklace, then dropped it back against her chest.

  It wasn’t until they reached the pebbly shore below that Triston asked, “Who was he?”

  “He?”

  “The man they shot,” he said. “The one you won’t let go.”

  “A friend, more like a brother.” Her mind flashed with images of Danny, laughing over a warm meal, appreciating the small things in life. That had been his advantage over everyone else.

  “I’m sorry,” Triston said.

  “No need. Me and Death seem to walk hand-in-hand.” She continued on along the water, watching the bright sunlight rippling on its surface. “He was there with Aldrick,” she said. “Uncle Aldrick, we called him. Said we were meant for great things.”

  Triston was beside her and, to her surprise and pleasure, wrapped his arms around her. For a moment she accepted it, loving it, but then stepped away.

  “It was becoming too much for me,” she said, wanting him to understand. “The idea that we were given powers to dole out justice. Who tells children something like that?” She maneuvered along some stones in the stream that fed into the ocean, then turned to watch Triston do the same. “I even tried to run away,” she continued, “but it wasn’t so simple. And then a man arrived, calling for revenge. He caught us off guard, things got out of control... Hunter, we called him, because we didn’t know his name.”

  “The same man that attacked us,” Triston said with a knowing look. When he reached her, she changed their trajectory, leading them into the shadows of the trees.

  “Then came the day we managed to escape,” she said. “Danny and the others, but not Aldrick. The fire got him.”

  “I’m… sorry.”

  They walked along the path in silence, the sun filtering through the trees, the birds chirping.

  “We thought it’d gotten Hunter too, but soon found out that wasn’t the case… That day with the fire, we split, those that survived. Some, myself included, felt there had to be a way out, even if it meant death. But first we’d search for a cure. Others, well, it’s best to avoid the others.”

  They followed the stream until she found a spot covered in moss, a fallen tree nearby, and the sun scattered across it all. She sat on the log and Triston pulled out the snacks they’d bought at the store.

  “So this… Aldrick?” Triston asked. “He was like, your leader or something?”

  “Yeah, it was… like a cult. Nothing good came out of it.”

  “You came out of it.”

  She blushed and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  “This, any of it. What they have.” She gestured back toward where they’d seen the old couple. “The normal life.”

  She took a bite of an apple, mind lost in the thoughts of her childhood, of training to be the killer she’d refused to be ever since. Now what? A life of running, all by herself? Wrapping Triston further into this wasn’t an option. She stood, meaning to walk back to the water, maybe to throw herself in… but Triston grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her back.

  “I don’t belong here!” she yelled, spinning on him.

  “You don’t know what’ll happen.”

  “What?”

  “We go north, we find Mauro,” Triston said. “He’s studied werewolf lore. He’ll help us.”

  “You don’t understand,” she said. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here at all.”

  He stared at her, then realization slowly dawned on his face. “You’re scared I’ll be hurt.”

  “If it happened, if I attacked you on the full moon—”

  “I’m willing to take the risk,” he said. “Don’t run away from this.”

  She stood there, chest heaving, and then, to her surprise, he kissed her. For a moment she loved the warmth of him against her, but then she pushed him away. How dare he? Her breathing was heavy, her mind swimming, and then she was on him again, pulling him tight against her as she kissed him violently.

  The kiss lasted an eternity, and when it ended she pulled away, ashamed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what?” He took her by the hand and kissed it.

  “You don’t deserve this kind of trouble.”

  “I’m already involved.” He kissed her hand again, and she moved in to wrap her arms around his waist, letting her head rest against his chest.

  They didn’t linger long, but by the time they returned the sun was high in the sky. A procession of people was marching down the street toward a church, blocking the car, so they leaned against the rock, her hand in his. They waited, watching. Some of the people wore old style cloaks, some chanted. A low music played from the direction of the church, and a priest held a giant cross, leading the crowd up ahead.

  “You really believe in redemption?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He stepped back, both hands in hers now.

  But something pulled her attention from the crowd. She scanned them, wondering what it was—her instinct was telling her something was wrong. Someone was watching her. It couldn’t be Hunter, he would have acted…. So who?

  The crowd moved on, and she couldn’t figure out what the sensation had been. She was glad to hop in the car and get out of there. Triston reached over for her hand, and she went stiff. Whatever she’d sensed back there was really getting to her.

  “What are we doing here?” Triston asked. “I mean… this can’t be what you want, just driving to escape. No destination
in mind.”

  “You want to go north,” she said with a heavy sigh, looking out the window at the distant city. “I get that. Yeah, it seems the only logical next step, doesn’t it?”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Okay, tomorrow. We get one more normal night, as normal as that can be, then we do it your way.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a squeeze of her hand. “It’s for the best.”

  Chapter 12: Training

  Danny had trained, even if he’d had to put on a show and pretended that he cared the whole time doing it. This wasn’t his place anymore. This was a delusional group of murderers, using the name of justice or worse, a god, to do their will and impose their beliefs (or in some cases, powers) on others.

  The camps extended north, and Danny found himself assigned to one near the border of Canada, where an especially large group of them had been recently transformed.

  “They’ll kneel to you, sir,” one of them who’d been assigned as his guide said. The woman had told him her name, but he didn’t want to become attached to anyone here, in case worse came to worse. So he just thought of her as Red, because of the red lipstick she wore that set off her lips in an almost sensual way—not that Danny was tempted at all, her being a blood-thirsty killer. “Sir?”

  “I’d prefer they don’t,” he said. “Kneel, that is.”

  She stared at him a moment, confusion causing her brow to furrow. “But sir….”

  “‘Let’s just keep it at Danny, okay?”

  “Yes, sir. I mean… Danny.” She cocked her head in a way that made him feel uncomfortable, and realized she was trying to decide if he was in any way hitting on her.

  “That’ll be all,” he said, wanting to get rid of her as quick as possible.

  Her lips pouted and then she shrugged, opening the door of the old warehouse before them.

  A chorus of cheers rose out from the men and women, all partially transformed as he entered. And then, as Red had predicted, the noise came to a halt and, as one, they all dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.

  “Get up,” he said. “Keep training so I can observe. Pretend I’m not even here.”

  A confused murmur arose from the crowd, but then two jumped up, one of them shouting, “You heard the man. Back to work!”

  They were back at it, but something was off. They weren’t quite the same, and in fact kept glancing his way.

  “What is it?” he asked Red.

  She looked at him sheepishly. It was an odd expression on her—it didn’t fit. “They’ll expect you to train alongside them, to demonstrate, at the very least.”

  “Demonstrate what?”

  She smiled like he was joking, then looked around nervously when she saw he wasn’t. “Your powers… of course.”

  Right, the new ability Aldrick had shown off. The ability to change at any time of night, even without the full moon.

  But he didn’t have that power yet, and somehow these recruits expected he would.

  “Not now,” he said. “I want to hold off until I feel they’ve earned it.”

  He was glad to see Red bought that. After observing the training for a few more minutes, he retired to the once abandoned apartment building nearby, where he’d been set up with a room, computer and all. He hadn’t been around one of these for a while – what use did you have for computers when you were out searching for ancient clues? Yes, they’d followed the white rabbit down the many links related to werewolves on Wikipedia and other sites, but eventually they’d had to stop at what they guessed to be the line between general knowledge, meaning myth, and real, fact-based clues to the origin of werewolves. Most of that was found in an old book one famed scholar of the dark arts had held until they took it from her house in the dead of night, an archeologist by the name of Nora Roberts, who Danny swore to pay back someday. The rest was from word of mouth, and who knew how much that could be trusted.

  The first thing he did here was log into his email to see if there’d been any word from Katherine. His temp phone had been silent, and he didn’t have it connected to his private email, the one he kept reserved for such messages.

  Nothing from her, but he frowned at a message from Gregor saying he wasn’t far behind and would join Danny shortly. Apparently, he had a batch of new recruits he was bringing and—

  “I hope that frown’s not on my account,” Gregor said, standing in the doorway.

  “Sorry to disappoint,” Danny said, closing the laptop.

  Gregor’s flash of annoyance vanished as quick as it had come.

  “These new recruits?” Danny asked, glancing outside.

  “Already with the others, getting squared away.”

  “Someone will find out about us eventually. You know that, right? With these numbers, the police, hell, maybe even the military, someone will stop us.”

  “They might try,” Gregor said with a smirk. “But not the military. They’re on our side, or at least will be. We’ve already promised the blessing to some of their very influential members.” Gregor must have seen the look of surprise in Danny’s eyes, because he nodded and said, “Yes, Aldrick has been a very busy man. Moving in with all the right people, smoozing his way to the top, and then letting them know what we are and what we’re really capable of.”

  “Capable of? That would be murder and destruction, last I checked.”

  “Exactly what the government needs in these trying times,” Gregor said, taking a seat on the desk so that he relaxed but still looked down on Danny. “You see, we get their buy-in, let them think they’re using us to take down their terrorists, both domestic and abroad, or whatever other blood-lust they have in mind. Then we make our move, and it’s no longer executing orders for those on top—it becomes us who are on top of them.”

  Danny scrunched his eyes, then looked up at Gregor with false hope. “Perfect,” he said, knowing it in no way was. This plan was madness. Not only did it mean millions of innocents would die, it meant they would die at the government’s own hands, once Aldrick made his move and took power. If all this came true, even if Katherine was alive, her search for a cure would be pointless.

  If Aldrick had his Hounds of God, it meant either you were with them, or dead.

  Gregor was smiling at Danny, simply waiting, assessing. Finally, he turned around and pulled up a small bag he’d brought with him. He took a vial from the bag, then a needle, and filled it with the fluid from the vial.

  “It’s time you joined us, one-hundred percent,” Gregor said.

  Danny assessed the substance in Gregor’s hands. “You’d drug me?”

  “No, of course not. This is iodine, meant to help your transition to the elite. I argued against it, but Aldrick insists.”

  “Yes, about Aldrick,” Danny said, eyeing the needle, still not sure he wanted that stuff in him. “Where is he?”

  “Someone has been asking too many questions, about our kind. Adlrick thought it was worth personally going after. And I’ve got another special bit of information I thought you’d like to know, but first….”

  He held up the needle, eyeing Danny to see what he’d do. Danny had no choice, he had to fit in here, at least until he knew what his next move would be.

  The needle plunged into his arm and he felt a surge of energy unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’d heard stories of the sensation silver caused, a burning pain that seemed to tear at your soul, but this was the exact opposite of that. It was like he was suddenly floating, high above the training grounds, and he was keenly aware of each of his limbs and the burning desire of the werewolf to break free.

  “We’ve found her,” Gregor said. “Your Kat.”

  The words pulled Danny back to the present, like he was drunk one moment and sober the next.

  “Where?” he demanded.

  Gregor chuckled, nodding as if he knew everything there was to know about Danny and his love of Katherine.

  Danny leaped forward to demand the larger man tell him, but in
stead staggered, nearly losing his balance.

  “The iodine hasn’t fully mixed with your system yet,” Gregor said. “It’s more than simply iodine, naturally. That was the main difference found in the blood samples we were able to gather from her, but there was more. Our scientists have been hard at work, and we believe we’ve succeeded in the perfect concoction. Will it ever make you naturally as powerful as Katherine? We hope so. In fact, we hope to perfect it so that one day a simple dose will carry ten times her strength. But for now…. Give it time to take. And when it does, don’t worry. I’ll tell you where to find your precious little darling.”

  Chapter 13: Old Friends

  “There!” Katherine said, pointing excitedly at a pie shop. They were walking along the main boulevard of a small town close to the border, hand-in-hand. “We have to get some.”

  “You like pie so much?” Triston asked, giving her body a skeptical glance.

  She hit him, playfully. “Shut up and buy me a slice of strawberry rhubarb.”

  He did, and soon they were at a table and she put that first bite in her mouth with a delighted moan. Tangy yet sweet, and not too buttery like at some pie shops.

  “There a story here?” Triston asked. “Or you just really like pie?”

  She paused, about to take another bite, then lowered her fork. “It was our last holiday together,” she said. “My parents…. I found them Christmas morning. Not… alive.”

  “Oh my god.” His eyes went wide. “I had no idea.”

  “No, it’s been years,” she took the bite, chewed, then put her fork down on the table. “Thing is, I know I should remember that morning more, but I don’t. It’s not even like I have to push the memory away, it just… it’s a blur. But my last Thanksgiving with them? We invited Aunt Elise over, and her family, and Aunt Elise always made the best pie. For some reason she hadn’t been able to make strawberry rhubarb pie, and my dad….” She had to stop, choking on the words as she remembered her dad’s smile and the loving look in his eyes. “He saw I was sad and took me out for a slice. I know, it was stupid and childish and selfish of me not to just be happy with what I had. But anyway, that moment with my dad, that’s what I want to keep forever.”