The Rising Azimuth

by D D Mathews

  D.D. Mathews

  The Rising Azimuth

  A Were Clan Novel

  Copyright © 2019 by D.D. Mathews

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

  Find out more at reedsy.com

  To my dad who supported me in every single possible way during this arduous journey

  Contents

  Acknowledgement

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Afterword

  Acknowledgement

  Thank you Sabrina Rak and everyone in the Lexington Fiction Writers’ Group

  Chapter 1

  “You can run but you can’t hide you cabbage smelling piece of shit!” Veronika screamed into the surrounding trees as she ran. She had Daniel’s scent and he wouldn’t escape her. His personal odor was motor oil and cabbage. Veronika was amazed she had put up with his fetid stink for so long. She could also smell his fear. That excited her.

  Spring was coming but at this elevation, it was still cold. Veronika loved the cold; it reminded her of her home. She didn’t waste time tonight reminiscing on Sweden, she had business to take care of. She zipped by pines at an inhuman speed. Her black leather jacket flared up, her hair whipped back, and her lungs burned as she darted through the forest. His cabbage odor was getting stronger, she was closing in.

  She had invited Daniel to an isolated cabin in the woods. He was surprised and fled when she attacked him. His dumbass look when she accused him of infidelity was priceless. He was a biker, what did she expect? Him having sex with some bimbo barely bothered her. But wasting her time was a capital offense.

  She had searched, unsuccessfully, for years trying to find a suitable partner to exact her revenge on her former clan. She had burned through boyfriend after boyfriend trying to find the right one to help her destroy them. Veronika had gone through a Paul, a Charlie, a Bubba, two Roberts, and a John. She barely remembered anything about them except their names. Now another had to die. Daniel had shown so much promise. He was physically strong and menacing, standing much taller than most and had a thickness about him. Her pet name for him was, “big boy.”

  Moonlight flashed through the trees as Veronika ran. His stench was becoming overwhelming so she slowed to a jog. A downhill slope guided her into a clearing. The silver from above shone on Daniel’s face.

  “Daniel, you dumb fucking mutt. You couldn’t just keep your dick out of her, could you?“

  The imposing Daniel stood chest out. He had a full dark beard and dirty hair under a bandana. His body and face showed he was determined not to die. However, his eyes betrayed him. They darted left and right looking for an escape.

  Veronika controlled her breathing, “Why are thinking about running again? So dumb; you know how this must end.”

  “It doesn’t have to Veronika. You could let me go,” Daniel begged. He held his hands out to her submissively, palms up. At the moment, he outweighed her by 140 pounds, but they both knew that wouldn’t matter. He continued, “Remember the good times’ lass. Please let me go. Don’t you owe me that?” His voice had a sweet Irish melody to it. She would miss that.

  “I don’t owe you or anyone!” Her words hit him like a slap and he knew the only way out was to fight.

  Daniel burst apart in a blink of gore. The top half of his human body was mostly red mist and flecks of tan flesh. His lower half held shape better, chunks of his feet and legs fell in a pile around his werewolf form. He was now a black wolfish monster on two feet. He didn’t grow any taller, but his Were body was thicker than before, especially around the hips and shoulders. He was an impressive werewolf, a scary werewolf.

  Veronika smiled cruelly. She was going to enjoy pulling this Were apart, piece by piece.

  She took two steps forward and jumped at the nightmarish werewolf in front of her. In midair, she transformed into a graceful white wolf. Her pale human flesh slid off her wolf form like a glove being removed. A sizeable pool of blood burst during the process, falling in a slash across the ground below her. Her wolf form was much larger than a normal wolf and a little bigger than Daniel’s Were form. He tried to defend himself by swiping his claw at this white beast flying at him. His attack was early, his short right paw failed to connect. It was the last thing he would fail at. She hit him directly in the neck; her bite ripped out his throat. Her momentum flattened him into the underbrush. Veronika bounced off her victim’s chest and landed a couple feet away on all four paws gingerly. She attacked his throat again, making sure he was dead. She didn’t need to worry. He had already morphed back into his human form, minus the chunk from his neck. She feasted on him for a while, gorging on Daniel’s stomach and guts. In wolf form, she was supposed to fight the urge to feast. Tonight, she didn’t want to so she let the ‘wolf’ take over and continued ravaging her former lover’s corpse. Tomorrow she would start looking for another Were to help her get revenge.

  Chapter 2

  The late afternoon sun still warmed Colin as he walked past the grey stone church and through a small break in the fence toward his destination; the Hill of Tara. He was tall, well built, and attractive. His boyish features made him look younger than he was. His brown eyes matched his unkempt hair.

  A pair of overweight American tourists hurried past him to get pictures before the sunlight was lost. Lia Fail, also called the Stone of Destiny, stood in the distance. This area had been used for generations, both in the werewolf world and the human world. The stone itself was tied to legends hundreds of years old. Colin honored the clan ancestors with a short prayer before trekking the final hundred steps to the hill. He stood right next to the stone on a flat area. Below him were two subtle indentions surrounding the mystical site. The view with the setting sun over the Irish country farms to the west was amazing. He thought about the coming night and everything he hoped might happen.

  Colin looked around at the half-dozen tourists standing around taking photos. His nose caught scents from all over. The fat older couple from the United States smelled stale and sickly. A young backpacker from Scandinavia smelled of weed. The three girls from Paris smelled of fruit perfume and last night’s drinks. Colin was still amazed by his heightened senses.

  The actual stone, Lia Fail, wasn’t impressive, standing barely up to Colin’s hip. The legend said every Celtic king was crowned here. Colin thought if he were king he would change a lot of things about the clan. He was so certain clan Celt needed to change, something was wrong. He felt
in his heart and he wanted to fix it. However, Colin was the lowest of the Celts, socially. His family name, MacDermott, had been dragged through the mud for too many years and while Colin hadn’t seen the worst of it personally, he heard many talk about it.

  First, he would have to show everyone he was strong and smart and able. During the Rise, any Celt had a chance to impress the king and the Council. Over the last two years, he had trained his mind, body, and spirit for the rite of adulthood. He had tamed his inner wolf by understanding it. He also understood who he was and what his family was. Colin wasn’t blinded by the obstacles tonight, he embraced them.

  Lost in thought, he was blankly staring at the stone, when one of the French girls tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and looked into her dark almond eyes. Her accent was light and her English wasn’t good.

  “Take me,” she said holding her camera.

  Colin nodded so she handed him the camera and brushed against him. Nervously, he smiled at her, as she posed next to the stone, pushing her chest up and out in an overly suggestive way. Acting calmer than he was, he took two quick pictures and handed her the camera. She took a marker from her front pocket and wrote on his palm a phone number and her name. She pushed into Colin’s chest and rose up on her toes to whisper, “Call me.”

  She winked at him and returned to her friends. Colin knew a couple words of French. However these teen girls were speaking so fast, he caught almost nothing. One girl might have said “hot butt” or “love butt.” He wasn’t sure. Girls confused him and tonight he couldn’t be distracted. He politely smiled at them as they walked away, glad that was over. The other tourists had already disappeared back toward the church, leaving Colin alone on the Hill of Tara. He turned to the west, watched the sun fall behind the horizon and thought about his plan.

  ***

  Joseph Radiant Bear sat in the schoolroom, bored, looking out the window. The normally brown ground had patches of green this spring. The sky was bright blue and cloudless. He felt like the sky was screaming at him to run around free outside.

  The only reason he sat through class anymore was his grandfather, Mankato. His grandfather truly believed the path off the reservation was education. Joseph had his doubts. He wanted to make his grandfather proud, so he endured another endlessly tedious day of classes. A red-tailed hawk circled lazily overhead. Joseph fell asleep.

  Joseph is a mountain lion in the nearby Badlands, prowling on a crest overlooking the land below. The layered patterns of sandstone hills create a beautiful hunting ground. The animals far below have no idea Joseph is hunting them. He hops tremendous distances with no injury. He lands without a sound just above a male buffalo. The ridge hides him from the magnificent beast. Its tail sways slightly as the animal saunters over to a patch of grass. All of a sudden, the buffalo reacts, primal. He cranes his head around. The lion, Joseph, lunges down. At this trajectory, he should hit the buffalo at the perfect spot, the neck. However, while floating in the air, the lion changes into another creature, a wolf. The grey-furred wolf slams into the bull’s flank and he bolts. Joseph, enraged, races after the buffalo. The smaller wolf increases size as he chases down his meal, growing larger and larger, faster and faster. When he reaches his prey, the wolf is massive, six times larger than the buffalo. The gigantic wolf’s jaws snap down on the buffalo, taking off its entire head. The blood splatters everywhere and causes Joseph to bolt awake from a dream.

  Joseph fell backward and slammed into the floor, chair and all. Sweat covered his back and he had an acidic taste in his mouth. He jumped up, grabbed his book bag, and rushed out of the classroom. In the hallway, he spit a mouthful of blood mixed with black coarse hairs onto the concrete floor. Freaked out, Joseph ran away from the classroom and the dream. He needed to talk to his grandfather.

  ***

  Nuri awoke trapped in a square wire animal cage, built for large dogs. Her head ached. She ran her fingers through her light brown hair looking at her hand, she saw red. Still groggy, her brain didn’t want to help her put one and one together. A memory flashed reminding her of meeting her aunt at Lesny Park earlier in the day. She seemed happy to see Nuri and then hit her in the head with a rock.

  Back in the warehouse, Nuri grabbed the metal cage door and yanked on it to no effect. She wanted to scream for help but knew it might make her situation worse. Her long legs were cramping from being doubled over in the cage. She had to get out.

  “Why would Aunt Tamara do this to me? This doesn’t make any sense,” she thought as she examined the cage door mechanism more closely. Someone had fused or melted it together. Her head cleared and her thoughts turned angry. She rolled onto her back and started kicking the door as hard as she could. The cage shook but nothing else happened.

  “I’m a good girl, I don’t deserve this!”

  Still on her back, in a fetal position, she looked left and right, finding nothing. Losing hope, she arched her neck upward to peer along the dusty floor. A metal bar glinted about ten meters away. She had to get the bar. She decided her only option was to roll over there, cage and all. Nuri repositioned herself in the cage then pushed with her shoulder causing the cage to tip over. Her shoulder stung every time the cage crashed on the floor as she rolled it.

  “Tamara was always a little strict, but putting me in a cage… What could she possibly be thinking? This is beyond anything I thought her capable of. What is wrong with her? Is she sick? Could she have lost her mind? I must get out of here and find her.“

  She rolled the cage one last time finally able to reach the crowbar. She grabbed it in her pale hand. She tried to pry the fused door open. However, the wire cage provided no counterforce. She was about to get angry again when she realized she could use the cement floor. She pushed the cage once more onto its front and used the floor to pry open the melted lock. The lock fought for a brief moment and then snapped. One more roll and she was free. Nuri crawled out and stretched her legs. She was in a vast disused storeroom filled with metal racks reaching to the ceiling. A few still held long pieces of wood.

  She collected up the crowbar just in case and started searching for a way out. The aisles between the racks were large enough for a forklift. She rushed down one aisle and found a cement brick wall, but didn’t find a door. She felt safer along the wall so traced it all the way around. After walking two sides of the storeroom she found a single metal door with a disturbing message painted above it. It read “fight or die” in neon green spray paint. Her heartbeat sped up. She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to fight either. Accepting her lack of options she pushed on the door.

  The scraping sound as the door opened sent a shiver up her spine. The room was empty, no racks and no people. It was narrow and she could see another door on the opposite wall. Above this door was a magnificent beast in spray paint. It looked like a werewolf from the American movies. The mouth was open, fangs dripping crimson. The eyes terrified Nuri, soulless and black. Nuri took one last look around hoping to see another way out. There wasn’t one. She clutched the crowbar, embraced her fear, and marched to the door.

  ***

  Joseph paused on the front steps of the high school gulping in fresh air. He tried to relax while he replayed the dream. He shivered and left the school. The bloody taste was still on his lips as he crossed the country highway. His grandfather’s house was due east. Mankato would know exactly what this all meant. He was highly respected on the reservation; everyone came to him for advice.

  Joseph walked down into the dry Wolf River, which wound through the entire Pine Ridge reservation. “Giant wolves aren’t real,” he thought. Mankato was going to laugh at him for worrying. He jogged up the river embankment and started to run. He always felt better when he ran. He had endurance and could run longer than anyone else in the tribe. He wasn’t the fastest in sprints, but with enough time, he would win the race. In mere minutes he reached his grandfather’s. The house was a prefab home styled like a New Mexican Indian Adobe. It was completely out of place
here in Pine Ridge. His grandfather had to order it special. The front door was white and the windows were squares with tan wood accents above them. Joseph walked in. The front door was never locked.

  “Hello,” he called out, no answer. Joseph dropped his backpack by the front door and searched the house.

  He called again, “Grandfather!” Still no answer, he started to worry.

  Joseph headed out the back door through the kitchen. The yard opened out to the empty fields of the reservation. The wide open space always eased Joseph’s heart. He liked that from almost anywhere in the west; a person could stand in a spot, look a certain direction and see nothing but nature. Mankato’s back porch was one such spot. The blue sky overwhelmed the view. The grasses of the plains were starting to grow above his knees. It was springtime. The only things to spoil the view were three vultures circling overhead. One dove down, which usually meant something had died. Joseph thought nothing about it until the creature hit the ground and gore splashed up. For a split second Joseph thought he saw a human arm.

  He ran toward where the bird had landed. As he came upon a clearing in the grass, he waved his hands causing the vile vulture to take flight. He saw his grandfather’s head separated from his body; the wound looked like a massive creature had bitten it off. The vultures had disturbed the body some, but the main wound was to the neck. Joseph felt a shiver up his spine due to the similarities in his dream. Not believing what he was seeing, he took a few steps back. Hoping for another explanation he searched the ground and found signs of a chase ending where his grandfather lay dead, like the dream wolf and buffalo. The boldest vulture had flown down and was picking at the arm wound. Joseph waved him away knowing he couldn’t stop nature from taking what was hers. He knew he couldn’t be the one responsible, but he still felt guilty.