"It's funny that you're thinking that," Dad said. "Russell was the boxer, when he was human."
Somehow, Dad pulled the boxer thought right out of my head. I'll teach you how to block your thoughts, he sent. Later.
Until then, I hadn't realized they needed blocking. Dad grinned. He'd gotten that one, too.
I have to be actively listening, he sent. I didn't want you to be uncomfortable around Russell and the others, so I opened up to your thoughts. Shutting it down again, he nodded.
"Awesome," I mumbled. He ruffled my hair in reply.
We trudged into Dad's study after that, and he and Merrill laid out our game plan. "This is the building you targeted," Merrill pointed at the large photo of a satellite image from Dallas. Mostly we saw the roof of an old warehouse on the outskirts of Dallas. I'd selected it as a hiding place for spawn when I'd Looked for them.
"These are the entrances," Merrill pointed at the front, the back and one side of the building. "This is a small, side door," he tapped the east side. "The other two are large enough to drive a good-sized van inside."
"Will and I will take the back," Russell volunteered.
"Good," Merrill nodded. "You'll take Justin with you. I warn you, he becomes a Wyvern when he turns, so give him plenty of room to fight."
"Will do," Russell nodded respectfully to me.
"Kyle, Daniel and I will take the side door," Radomir offered.
"Good. That leaves the front for Teddy, Mack and me," Merrill said. "Mr. Walters had an appointment this evening and couldn't be with us," he added.
Pack meeting—they're checking out possible spawn at the lake, Mack sent.
Gotcha. You ready for this? I asked.
Better be, he said.
"Dragon and I will provide transportation," Dad said. "And we'll be back when you send mindspeech," he nodded at Merrill. I understood then that Merrill had mindspeech, too, he just didn't want it known. "If anyone gets hurt," Dad went on, "Let me know immediately. Is everybody ready?"
Mack and I exchanged glances. For us, it was like going to war for the first time. Our first two outings had been unplanned skirmishes—this was planned and for real. When I'd Looked for spawn, I'd seen a huge knot of them at this location in Dallas.
I hoped we wouldn't be overrun.
"Ready?" Uncle Dragon stalked into the room. Was it strange that the vampires and werewolves gave him respect? Not at all. Two minutes later, we landed on a street not far from the building in Dallas. A quarter moon hung overhead as we walked as quietly as we could toward the targeted warehouse. Dad and Dragon disappeared behind us.
Mack, Daniel and Teddy hung back—they removed their clothing before becoming wolf. In seconds, three large wolves trotted up beside us, their paws almost silent on the rough concrete—the old road hadn't been resurfaced in a very long time.
The vampires I could barely hear at all, they were so silent. I worked hard to keep from making noise as we approached the building.
It didn't matter how careful we were, or how dark the night was, or how thoroughly we'd planned our assault.
Something spooked the spawn inside the warehouse and before I was ready, they came boiling out of all three entrances by the hundreds.
Chapter 8
Justin's Journal
Our game plan was destroyed before we could even implement it. Dragon and Lion's short lesson helped a lot when spawn surrounded us. We formed a circle—as tight as we could make it and still leave fighting room for our neighbors.
After Mack sent mindspeech, I finally remembered to become Wyvern. It was close, too, because Merrill's side, opposite ours, had already been hit by spawn. I learned quickly that the experienced fighters, Merrill, Radomir, Russell and Daniel, had faced the building, leaving the rest of us scattered around the far side of the circle.
Will stood between Mack and me, while Teddy took up the space on my other side. Kyle fought on Mack's other side, and I figured he and Will were assigned to keep an eye on us.
"Watch out," Will shouted beside me as a wave of spawn rolled in our direction. They'd found it impossible to get past Merrill's side, so they pivoted around our circle, looking for a weaker spot to attack.
I knew Merrill and his force were making headway—I could hear the rattle of spawn dust as it burst about them and sprayed eerily across broken concrete. Daniel's growls punctuated his attacks, but the vampires didn't make much noise unless it was to warn those fighting next to them.
"Heads up, Justin!" Teddy snapped as six spawn thought to attack me at once.
Spawn taste nasty—there's no other way to describe it. I took one head that way, while clawing at two others attempting to reach me.
The problem?
Three more climbed over the backs of the three I fought before they dusted, and leapt on me. Will hissed and fought like a maniac, pulling them off me and taking their heads.
Mack yelped—he'd been jumped, too. Kyle helped with that—he was just as efficient a fighter as Will.
Teddy, fortunately, held his own for the most part, but I could see that the spawn were targeting the weakest and more inexperienced among us. More shoved forward, crowding us and forcing our circle to shrink and tighten.
Did I think there were hundreds? Perhaps a thousand or more still waited, and the ones in back were now crawling over the backs of those in front of them, in an attempt to penetrate our circle and attack from the inside.
"They're coming over the top," Will shouted as the mass, like a pitcher of molasses, tipped over and spilled inside our fighting ring.
I will never forget what happened next.
Fifty werewolves appeared behind our attackers, and they growled and fought and tore into spawn as if they'd been doing it all their lives.
The Dallas Pack had come to our rescue.
* * *
Two hours later, Mack and I sat in the Dallas FBI office, wondering for the hundredth time how we'd ended up there. That's when Dad walked out of one of the offices with Merrill and Radomir. Someone else strode behind them.
Werewolf, Mack sent after drawing a discreet breath.
"This is Agent Renfro, from the FBI," Merrill introduced us. "He and Agent White, a vampire from the same special division, had information on the warehouse we targeted. Unfortunately, they flushed them out before we were ready, but the Dallas Pack was waiting to be called in if necessary."
"We didn't know there were so many in there," Agent Renfro said, shaking Mack's and my hand. "We've made arrangements to share information—we have resources across the country and we may be in a position to help you."
"I've given them a copy of your map, Justin," Dad said. "They didn't know about Florida or some of the other places, yet."
"Are we finished for now?" A tall, dark-haired man sauntered up to Renfro. He exuded confidence and his clothes and cowboy boots spelled money. Lots of it.
"Thanks, Winkler. We wouldn't have made it without your help," Renfro nodded at him.
Dallas Packmaster, Dad informed me. Extremely important in the werewolf world.
When can we go home? I asked.
"You two ready to go home?" Dad asked aloud, to answer my question. Mack and I were exhausted, and all I could think about when I focused on our battle was how close we'd come to being overwhelmed.
"I'm ready," Mack stood stiffly. I rose beside him and nodded at Dad.
"Friday?" Agent Renfro asked.
"That's the plan," Merrill agreed. "We'll meet you at the designated position there."
"What's Friday?" I blurted. Yeah, it was the day before my birthday, and I wanted to take Gina out.
"Florida," Dad said. My shoulders sagged as I nodded my acceptance.
* * *
Adam's Journal
"I don't like this," Kiarra said as I pulled covers back to climb in bed beside her. The clock said 4:03 a.m. The boys would have to be up in three hours.
"Don't like what?" I settled in before pulling her against me and laying her head on
my shoulder.
"This. All of it. Justin could have gotten killed tonight, Adam," she snapped.
"Dragon and I were prepared to go in. The Dallas Pack beat us to the punch. We're allowed to protect our mates and family; that's within the rules. We've discussed this already."
"You're not hearing me out," she countered. "It's as if we're inside a play that's already been produced once, with a different script. This time, I don't like the roles we've been assigned."
I considered that for a moment. Yes, something felt off, but I really couldn't say why I thought that. "What do you suggest we do about it, then?" I asked.
"I don't know," she mumbled, molding her body against mine. That was my cue—her way of telling me she needed comforting.
"Come to me, my love. All will be well," I murmured against her hair, hoping my words wouldn't become the lie I feared.
* * *
"I spoke with Merrill last night when he returned," Dragon informed me as we drank tea on the back deck the following morning. Dragon had Falchani black in a cup, while I settled for my usual English variety. "He says the spawn targeted the weakest of the group—your son, Mack and Theodore Williams."
"That can't be," I said. "Spawn are pretty mindless when they fight."
"He also says they cooperated to pull part of their numbers over the heads of our fighters and into the circle," Dragon went on.
"Are you sure?" I frowned. "That's never happened before."
"It concerns me greatly," he said. I knew he was filling in for my wife—as Second among the Saa Thalarr, that was his job if she became incapacitated. Her pregnancy would ensure that in roughly two weeks. "I've been fighting Ra'Ak and their spawn for more than fifteen thousand years, and this has never happened before. Either we're seeing a new strain of spawn, or a hand of power is interfering in this."
"Why is it happening now?" I asked.
"Why is it happening here?" he countered. "We've had this discussion. It seems the enemy has its eye on this world for some reason, and we cannot guess as to why that is or what it means."
"It is my hope that this is a singularity," Pheligar appeared and fashioned a chair large enough for himself with power.
"Kiarra said last night that it felt as if the play has already been done once, with a different playbook," I said.
"That is why we are ad-libbing for this," the Larentii nodded. "We make waves. Small waves can become larger waves, and eventually have an impact on all," he shrugged.
"A Larentii, ad-libbing? That's outstanding," Lion appeared and took an empty deck chair to join our conversation.
"Are you making light of a serious situation?" Pheligar asked him.
"Oh, no," Lion held up a hand. "I just never expected the term ad-libbing to ever leave your mouth."
"I used it because it was simple enough for you to understand."
"Oh, here we go with the insults," Lion grumbled.
"Stating fact should never be perceived as an insult," Pheligar huffed.
"And the logic gun is fired," Lion countered.
"Yet you keep stepping out of the way before it hits you," Pheligar claimed.
"Are you fighting?" Kiarra walked through the French doors at our back and shut them behind her. She patted Lion's shoulder as she passed him, then stopped behind Pheligar and rubbed his back carefully.
I blinked—only my wife was brave enough to put her hands on Pheligar; he might separate the atoms of anyone else who tried. Oddly enough, when she kneaded the back of his neck and the tops of his shoulders, he closed his eyes in pleasure.
That's something you don't see every day, Lion sent.
I had to turn my head so he wouldn't see me smile. It was obvious—the Larentii was worried and cranky as a result. I had no idea until that moment that any Larentii might have tense muscles because he was stressed.
To me, that meant we were in infinitely more trouble than we thought.
* * *
Justin's Journal
School Wednesday morning turned into torture as Mack and I struggled to stay awake. I realized that Dad faced this same agony—holding down a business and answering calls to fight spawn or the monster Ra'Ak that made spawn.
My job had turned dangerous enough; his—and Mom's—was worse.
I know my fellow students in high school always talked about graduating and finding a job, or going to college and then finding a job, but the word job held little meaning to anyone who hadn't really worked one already.
Sure, I worked for Dad during summers and some weekends in the school year, but that had never been serious. This—this was mind-bendingly serious and my life, as well as the lives of others, depended on how well I did that job.
Gina knew what holding a job entailed—she worked as a waitress, a tough job by anybody's standards, so she could go to college. She probably intended to work while going to college, too.
I'd never been faced with that particular dilemma—I had a college fund. My new job, as it turned out, was too important to quit, no matter how I felt about it.
Mack and I—we were saving lives. I almost choked when that realization hit me. A coughing fit ensued.
"Justin, do you need a drink of water?" Joey stopped teaching for a moment to ask.
"Yeah. If you don't mind," I choked out.
"Go ahead," he nodded toward the door. I loped from the room, heading toward the kitchen.
"Justin?" Marlianna stood in our kitchen, pouring a glass of orange juice.
"Glass of water," I held up a hand and walked toward the cabinet. "Got choked," I added after filling a glass with water and downing half of it. "How are you?" I asked.
"Good," she smiled. "We ran out of orange juice, so you mother sent mindspeech, telling me to help myself," she said. "That means we need to make a trip to the grocery store later."
"Yeah. Ran out of crackers yesterday," I agreed. "Mack likes those with a half-ton of peanut butter."
"He's growing, now that the werewolf has made his presence known," she said. "He'll get as tall as his father before it's over."
"Mr. Walters is six-two," I said.
"Mack will need new clothing soon," Marlianna gave me another smile.
"You know, I'm really glad you're here," I said. "You and Uncle Lion both."
"Why, thank you, sweetheart," she said and gave me a hug. "You should go back, now, before Joey comes looking for you."
"Yeah. My head's kinda muddled today," I said.
"Short night," she pushed hair off my forehead with gentle fingers. "Eat a quick lunch and grab a nap in between," she said.
"Will do." I turned and headed back to school.
* * *
Adam's Journal
"Justin's birthday is Saturday," Kiarra pointed out later, as she put sandwiches together for the kids. I knew Gina and Sarah's mother had offered to pay for any lunches we provided, but we turned them down. Kiarra told Marie Allen that she was happy to do it, and that was that.
"I know. And he's expected in Florida the night before. I say we let the boys sleep late, then have the party at dinner time."
"I asked Gina about dinner Saturday," she frowned at me. "She has to work. She was really disappointed, too."
"What about the party on Sunday, then, with gifts the day before?"
"Sounds good," she said.
"What am I getting for my birthday?" I draped an arm around her shoulders.
"You put in a request. I'm handling that," she sniffed and moved away.
"Ah. I forgot about that," I said. "How are you handling that?"
"I asked Wolf and Tiger to go with me shortly after we got back from the beach house," she said.
"Good," I nodded. "How is Grey House?"
"Fine. Raffian is still snippy, but Glendes is a gentleman."
"That's what you get when you tell the most talented K'Shoufa jeweler to kiss your ass and take his M'Fiyah with him," I pointed out.
"I won't marry an insufferable prick," she muttered and piled fres
h-cut tomatoes atop ham and roast beef.
"Then I'm glad I don't fit that category," I said.
"You've come close a time or two."
"Hey, now," I protested.
"Glendes said he'd personally take care of my order," she said. "That means Raffian will probably do the design and spelling, but Glendes will check it afterward. Because he owes me," she added, placing a toasted bread slice on each sandwich to finish it. "Grab the chips," she said. "The soup's ready, I just have to dip it into bowls."
* * *
Justin's Journal
"My dad was killed in Afghanistan," Gina told Mom while we ate. "Helicopter crash. His body and three others weren't recovered."
"Honey, that's terrible," Mom said. "Your mother must have been devastated."
"She was. I was too young at the time to realize what was happening. It just seems so long ago," she shrugged. "We have a headstone at a cemetery, but there's nothing else there."
"We saw Randall Pierce on the way home, yesterday," Sarah said.
"Was his Mongol horde with him?" I asked, turning my attention to her.
"Two of them. They honked and gave us the finger when we drove past them."
"His father was fired yesterday," Dad said. "It's not common knowledge yet," he added. "My attorney is working with Mack's dad on a lawsuit—when you willingly break the law, it's generally not a good idea to brag to your coworkers about it."
"He did that?" Gina's soft brown eyes turned to Dad in alarm. "He did it on purpose, then told people?"
"He almost got Mack killed," I growled. It was a decent growl and if I worked on it, I might compete with Mack someday on what he had naturally. "On purpose."
"They're investigating other incidents at the jail," Dad said. "When inmates were attacked or found dead in their cells, just to see whether Raymond Pierce had any involvement in those events. It's not looking good for him at the moment."
"So he's lost his job, and may get jail time?" Mack asked.
"It's possible. He almost committed murder, after all."
"Randall probably knows we're being homeschooled with you and Mack," Sarah pointed out. "Some of the kids at school know, so it makes sense."
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