"Don't you dare speak my son's name, bitch." His control cracked, betraying smoldering fury.
"I'll tell you, he wouldn't think very highly of you." She ignored his warning. Taunting the man wasn't the smartest thing. Her fear for Jasper drove her to recklessness.
Grinding teeth, a noise like stone on stone, crossed the phone line. He exhaled, and her imagination supplied the image of broad flared nostrils breathing fire. When he spoke, his tone was smooth once again. "My son is dead. Someone has to be held accountable. I expect you to surrender yourself. Once you have, I'll let the boy go."
Fuck. The man terrified her. No matter what Jake Barrett did to her, it couldn't be worse than the suffocating guilt she lived with every day. The weight of her own culpability in Daniel's death crushed her, a feeling verging on self-hatred. Too many people on both sides had already died because of her failure. She would do anything to protect the final surviving members of her pack, including sacrifice herself. Perhaps it was fitting that Jake Barrett should be her judge, jury, and executioner.
"Fine. I'll surrender to you," she said. "I want your word that Jasper and my pack go free without any further retaliation."
"Agreed." A hesitation ensued.
She thought her ready agreement had surprised him. She stepped into the silence before he could continue. "We have another problem."
Jake's volume shot up a couple telling notches. "We do, do we?"
"The monster you're hunting is here."
His voice hardened with suspicion. "What makes you think I'm after anyone other than you?"
The bones in Victoria's hands crunched as she forced her claws to retract. She gnashed her teeth in irritation. "On the street you were surprised to see me."
"Maybe I was surprised you made it so easy."
"Maybe," she shot back. "Maybe you're not interested in killing the murdering bastard. Oh, he's got three little children in cages. No reason that should concern–"
"It's not smart to keep needling me, Victoria."
Victoria's phone lit up with an incoming call from Sylvie. "I've got another call I have to take."
"Don't you dare–"
With a smirk of satisfaction, she put him on hold and accepted the other call. "Hello?"
"Rand's been shot," Sylvie said without preamble. "He got away, but the hunters have Jasper."
"I know." Victoria composed her voice to offer reassurance. "I've got Jake Barrett on the other line."
Sylvie fell into stunned silence. A full thirty seconds passed before she said, "You put Jake Barrett on hold?"
"What's he gonna do? Kill me twice?"
"No. He may take his frustration out on you before he does."
Victoria flinched. Sylvie's stinging reminder punctured her bravado and deflated her ego. Her head dipped in shame. The Skald had the right of it. She'd foolishly allowed wrath and pride to get the better of her. She exhaled. "I'm sorry. You're right. Let's make this quick. Is Rand going to be all right?"
"Yes, he's badly hurt, but he'll recover. It'll be hours before he's recovered enough to be of use to you."
"Where are you now?"
"A few miles north of that tire recycling facility."
"I thought you and Paul were supposed to have left town," Victoria said, her tone heavy with irony. "What happened?"
Sylvie's voice lilted. "We stopped for gas."
Despite the direness of the situation, Victoria laughed. "Take everyone and head to Santa Fe. This time, please, do what I ask."
"What about you and Jasper?"
"I'll take care of it."
Sylvie hesitated. "How?"
"Sylvie, please, trust me," Victoria pleaded. She didn't have time to argue or explain. Her newfound leadership style entailed indulging her people's questions. She ran her pack as a democracy with an elected president rather than the autocratic dictatorship of a larger war band.
"Of course, sweetie. Call soon so we don't have to worry."
"Thank you," Victoria said in heartfelt relief and gratitude.
"No, thank you."
They said their goodbyes and concluded the call. Victoria switched back to Jake. The first sound she heard was the rasp of his breath on the line. His impatience and frustration coalesced as a palpable force.
"Let's stop playing games, Barrett," she said. "Are you hunting the child thief or not? I know where it is. It's got three young children in cages. If you're not going to help me kill it, then say so."
Silence ensued. Victoria imagined those thick gray Barrett eyebrows knit into a scowl of consternation. 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.
"Yeah," Jake rumbled. "A friend of mine brought the matter to my attention. It's why I'm here. We've been looking for it for a few days without any solid leads."
"It's enshrouded in some sort of magic," Victoria said. "That makes it difficult to locate." Her supposition was conjecture, but the facts thus far supported the conclusion.
"How'd you manage to locate it then?"
"Deductive reasoning and a keen nose.”
He snorted softly. "How did you get pulled into all this?"
"My goddess sent me."
"Of course she did."
The amusement in his voice irritated the crap out of her. Unaccountably, tears welled in her eyes, and her voice cracked. "The first little girl the beast took, her name was Margaret. It murdered her parents, shoved her into a filthy sack, and drowned her in a drum of ink."
Jake growled. The sound was indistinguishable from a wolf's, and if she hadn't known better, she'd have assumed him to be one of her people.
Her anger burned so hot her wolf was about to burst through her self-control. "It murdered her for what?" she asked. "The poor girl was innocent."
"Have you seen it?" He bit the words short.
Victoria drew a deep breath and described the goat-creature to him, going into great detail. His knowledge of the occult was far superior to hers. Her father had once called Jake Barrett a walking, talking encyclopedia of the arcane and obscure.
He cut her off mid-description. "Sounds like a krampus."
"A what? Never heard of it." She shook her head even though he couldn't see her. Her mind was so deep inside the conversation her awareness of the external world faded.
"It's an Old World devil," Jake said, adopting a brisk manner, devoid of animosity or any hint of the bad blood between them. The man possessed an amazing ability to compartmentalize. "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."
"Do you mean 'devil' literally or is that a figure of speech?" Victoria adjusted her stance, flexing her knees to stop them from cramping.
"It's complicated."
She scowled. His evasion sounded like a total... hedge. They'd attained a degree of concordance though, a certain unity of purpose she was loath to disrupt. Besides, what ultimately mattered wasn't what it was, but rather how to destroy it.
"Does it have any weaknesses?"
"Not like your people do to silver."
She winced at the pointed reminder. "How do I kill it?"
"Tell me where you are," Jake said. "I'll kill it."
His vicious conviction sent chills coursing along her spine. She absolutely believed that he'd do as he said. The man had a reputation as a ruthless killer who possessed powerful magic. He demolished any and all obstacles in his path. He never failed.
She gave him the address.
"Wait until I get there," Jake said in an unmistakably autocratic tone.
Her brow drew together. Under the best of circumstance, Victoria disliked being told what to do. Being ordered about by her enemy didn't sit well. "I'll think about it–"
Loud barking erupted from the far side of the alley. Startled, Victo
ria looked toward the sound and lowered the phone. The Rottweiler stood at the end of the building. His posture bristled with aggression.
"What's wrong, boy?"
"What's happening?" Jake asked.
She took a breath and caught the musky scent of goat. Her panic spiked as cloven hooves clattered on the pavement behind her. Snarling, she twisted and looked up in time to see a huge fist launching straight at her.
The krampus walloped her face. The bones in her nose crunched like crushed potato chips, detonating pain inside her skull. The blow knocked her over, and the phone went flying. She crashed to the ground and landed in a heap on the pavement.
Head swimming, she rolled and attempted to stand. The whole world tilted at a crazy angle, and she followed it sideways. Hooves clomped toward her. Vision blurred, she stumbled, walking on the side of her feet.
The Rottweiler's furious barking rushed closer. He growled. A heavy thud, and then the dog released a high-pitched, piteous yelp. He made no further sounds.
"No." Victoria's heart wrenched for the poor dog. A sorrowful moan tore from her throat. Why hadn't he obeyed her?
Clomping again, moving closer. Scrambling, she shook her head. Her sight cleared enough for her to make out the beast's enormous form which loomed over her. A growl rumbled in her throat. She swung but missed, so her fist whizzed through empty air.
The krampus swooped in closer. His fist slammed into the side of her head.
The world went black.
Chapter 9
The throbbing in her head obliterated her ability to think. The pain became an excruciating pressure inside her skull that built and built. She moved with care, fearful the smallest movement would upset a delicate balance and burst her eyeballs. Groaning, Victoria pried open one eyelid to discover her body folded into a pretzel–her head bent forward, her knees jammed against her chest.
Cold iron bars crushed her on all sides. The confining cage was the right size to hold a child. She had no room to stand or maneuver. Thanks to her accelerated regeneration, her broken nose had already returned to its normal shape. The persistent headache told her not much time had passed. She healed fast.
As she raised her head, the bony fingers of a cramp dug into her neck. A soft moan tore from her throat. Ignoring the pain, she struggled to rearrange her limbs. Eventually, she achieved a more comfortable position on her knees. She checked her pockets and confirmed her cell phone had been lost in the alley.
Victoria 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. She didn't see the krampus.
To one side, a boy with a tear-streaked face watched her. The child stank of urine and feces. Her stomach heaved. She tried to keep all hints of anger from her face, lest she scare him. The boy's eyes were bloodshot, and chunks of dried snot clung to his skin. Even in his unkempt state, he looked like his mother.
"Are you Michael?" Victoria kept her voice soft.
Eyes widening, he stared at her and nodded. "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. Twisting her arm, she pushed her hand through the bars and stretched 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, staring at the truck. "It's already killed two other kids."
In the other two occupied cages, a male and a female watched them with wide, fearful eyes. The little girl looked about five years old. She pointed toward the drums full of black ink and spoke in a trembling voice. "The monster made them drown."
Victoria gagged on rage, hot fury blinding her reason. The children's fear evoked the protective instincts of her she-wolf. Her humanity dangled on a fragile thread. She clung to her self-control with stubborn determination and resisted the reflex to transform into a wolf. The last thing she wanted was to frighten the youngsters more.
Extending his slender arm between the bars, Michael turned his hand over, allowing the toy to fall from his grasp. He looked up to meet her puzzled gaze. "I stole it," he said with tears in his eyes. "I knew stealing was wrong, but I wanted a new toy. My mom’s dead 'cause I'm bad. I deserve to be punished. The monster said so..."
Victoria's chest hurt from the effort of holding back a furious growl. Tears stung her eyes. Panting, she managed a semblance of calm. "It's a liar. Listen to me, Michael. It's a liar. You haven't done anything bad enough to deserve this."
"I'm scared." Lips trembling, he stared at her. Tears spilled down his cheeks.
"It's not going to hurt you. I'm going to kill it. I promise." She gripped the bars of the cage and tested their strength. The iron held, but her struggle sent her prison to rocking crazily on its chain.
Attracted by the sound of their voices, the krampus returned on clomping hooves. Tail lashing, he paused, and his attention centered upon Victoria's swinging cage. His red-rimmed eyes narrowed in clear annoyance. He had a dark aura, black at the center, tinted with dark red about the edges. With mincing steps, he approached her enclosure.
"You cannot escape," the krampus said in a lovely, flute-like voice. "The bars are enchanted."
Victoria scented doubt and desire emanating from him. She locked gazes with him and sneered. "It's easy to act brave while I'm behind these bars. The truth is you're a coward. A child thief who preys on innocents. Come here and see if you can handle someone who's not afraid of you, goat boy."
His eyes narrowed, and his tone grew angry. "Coward, I am not. It is my appointed task to punish wicked children. I am Krampus, the Yuletide Lord. The son of the Goddess Hel, descended of Loki the Trickster."
The krampus reached for her cage and caught the bars on either side. His hands were leathery, the backs covered in thick fur. His pointed nails clinked on the metal. He lowered his head so they faced each other. "My belly aches."
So did hers. A great, yawning emptiness. She craved goat with a ravenous hunger that made her mouth water. The closer he came, the more the beast smelled like prey.
"You eat guilt?" Victoria asked, seeking affirmation of what Jake Barrett had told her. The concept of a monster that fed on emotions struck her as preposterous. Easier said than believed... She stifled an inane giggle.
…thought the skeptical werewolf.
"Sin. Shame. Misery." His giggle embodied pure wickedness. He whispered to her in that honeyed falsetto. "My desire is for sweet children, my usual feast. Your guilt, so delicious, calls to me."
"You want me? Come and get me." Victoria beckoned with a provocative come-hither smile that disguised her disgust. She summoned her magic, allowing it to spill across her skin and spread, a sparking golden glow. As Freya's priestess, she understood passion. The krampus craved guilt, 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. His mouth gaped, and he paused. "Do not know what you are. Stench like wet dog."
His hesitation worried her. She needed him to open the cage. Stifling panic, she focused on the awful self-recrimination she harbored in her heart. "Does it matter what I am?" she asked in a sultry voice. "Can't you sense how the guilt eats at me?"
"Yesss..." he hissed. A thick ruby-red tongue slid past his lips and flicked against the iron bars. Arousal turned his scent pungent. "I shall suck your soul, drain you dry. You shall sustain me for a long, long time."
With clumsy eagerness, he fumbled with the lock of her cage. It took him three tries to work the elaborate mechanism. The doors swung on concealed hinges and parted wide to either side. At last, she understood how her captor had gotten her into the confined space in the first place.
"I'm so tempting. Irresistible," she teased. Muscles rippled ben
eath her skin, her wolf straining to burst free of the confines of her human skin.
" Yesss..." His rough hands closed on her forearms. Sulfuric breath filled her nostrils, and she gagged, tasting bile in the back of her throat. In counterpoint to her nausea, her stomach growled. An immense aching emptiness in her sides.
His beaked nose thrust into her face, and she resisted the urge to bite off the bulbous tip. With an effort, Victoria stayed passive while he dragged her from the kennel. The children's whimpers and sobs were hardest to ignore. She had to make sure she was safely clear of the young ones before she acted.
"Show me how your lover died." With her dangling from his grasp, the krampus straightened to his full height.
Shocked, she gasped. "How the hell do you know–"
"I know all about your sins," he said, cackling.
Their eyes locked, and a crude psychic tendril invaded her mind, burrowing deep, seeking her guilt. Caught off-guard, Victoria reeled under the unexpected assault. The beast before her vanished, and Daniel took his place. Reality fractured, blurred at the edges, and reformed.
Early December. She and Daniel had cleared out a nest of vampires from an abandoned gas station in the desert outside Phoenix. The building was little more than four walls supporting a rickety roof. All the windows were shattered. Broken fragments of glass littered the dirty floors. Looters had long ago taken anything worth having.
Daniel insisted on making a final sweep of the area. The prospect of spending more time with him pleased her, so she humored him.
"It's high noon. All of the vamps are gonna be in the ground. What exactly are you expecting to find?" Wielding a machete, Victoria assumed the lead. Broken glass crunched beneath her athletic shoes as she inspected rows of toppled shelving.
"You can never be too careful." Daniel offered her a cheeky grin. Then he changed the subject. "I have two weeks of vacation coming up over Christmas and the New Year..."
She stopped and swiveled to face him. His edgy stance and the charged streaks of aggression in his aura hinted that he was up to something. Her tension fed on his. "Do you have big plans?"
Valkyrie's Vengeance_Loki's Wolves Page 8
