Shifter Wars: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 1)

by Kelly St Clare

  An older woman cast me a curious look. “Over there.”

  The best and worst thing about being a redhead? Spotting us was easy. The only red head in the crowd stood straight-backed beside a massive pine.

  I took a step in his direction. Shoot, what would I say to the guy?

  Hey, I pretended to be a Thana to crash your laser tag game.

  Herc? I’m Andie. No, not Rhona. Yes, I look like her. Also, are we related in any way?

  A thunderous boom shook the ground, and I jumped as the mob of people surged forward.

  “Watch out.”

  Someone jostled me, and I sidestepped another, frantically trying to find Hercules again. Shoving my way forward, I spotted him dodging deeper into the trees as the younger part of the horde overtook him.

  Shit.

  “Hey,” I called, giving chase. Stampeding feet and the grunted breaths of hundreds buried the sound of my shout.

  Crap, the guy was fast.

  Wait.

  Wait.

  I was chasing a grown man through the damn forest. What was I going to do? Spear-tackle him to the ground and kindly ask that he return to the manor for a lengthy conversation?

  I slapped the closest tree—redhead temper—halting in my tracks. The laser tag goers passed me, and I watched their disappearing backs, listening to the rumbling thunder of their feet.

  This had officially become the strangest night of my life.

  Choking on a laugh, I patted the tree I’d just slapped. Sue me, I felt bad for hitting the thing. Mum always had a deep respect for nature and instilled it in me well and truly.

  Ugh, back to Ella F it was. I’d find a quiet street to park and sleep for the night, then return tomorrow.

  I turned in a slow circle.

  These trees were really thick. I couldn’t see the manor or clearing from here. I set off the way I came, snorting again at the turn of events. Sliding my phone out, I snapped another picture to send to Logan.

  Tried to.

  “No reception,” I grumbled. Maybe that’s why Mum left the valley. Wouldn’t blame her if so.

  I didn’t run that far. Where was the clearing?

  Getting lost was not on my list of fun things to do tonight.

  I retreated to the slapped tree—or one pretty close—and tried a slightly different direction.

  The sounds of the laser tag mob were gone. The odd shout echoed through the trees as I walked, but otherwise, a heavy quiet had descended. The stridulating chirp of crickets soon after was almost a relief.

  After walking for several minutes without success, I threaded my fingers into my hair. “Okay, Andie. Where are you?”

  I consulted my phone again. No reception.

  Tracking back a second time, I stared at the slapped tree. Was this actually it?

  Maybe I should just sit here and wait.

  Oh! My phone had a compass app. At least I could be methodical about my search.

  The woman had called this side the south team. Assuming that meant we’d entered from the south, I had to walk north to find the clearing.

  Theoretically.

  Selecting a dead branch, I leaned it against my starting tree. Not to brag, but my old Girl Guide sash was covered with badges. If a person wanted a knot tied, I was their girl.

  “Be prepared,” I told the trees, holding up my hand in the Girl Guide salute.

  The problem had to be that I wasn’t walking far enough before turning back. If the moon wasn’t full tonight and I didn’t have these bug lens things, I’d be too scared to move.

  “From the top,” I said, teeth gritted as I set off north again.

  I was never telling anyone about this.

  The crickets cut off and I froze.

  Hundreds of people ran into this forest an hour ago, but it was night, and—yep—my imagination was in the driver’s seat. The crowd probably scared off the wild animals with their passing, but I shouldn’t take any chances.

  Sinking into a crouch, I placed my back to the nearest tree.

  Crack.

  My heart thumped. Something was fucking out there.

  I pressed a palm against my mouth, trying not to scrape against the tree as I leaned forward to look.

  The moonlight beamed down on the man. Clad in dark jeans and a flannel shirt, he wore hiking boots but barely made a sound on the pine needles.

  He wasn’t trying to hide. That much was obvious.

  I sagged in relief, standing. But I paused, one foot raised to step out from cover, as the massive man tensed, sniffing the air.

  Uh… what?

  He was muscular and in shape. Being five ten, I didn’t always notice a person’s height, but he was other-level big. The guy continued sniffing, only the tip of his nose visible through the shadows shrouding his face. Hay fever aside, he would take me in a fight no problem—there wasn’t a Girl Guide badge for kicking ass when I attended.

  Maybe I should wait until a larger group arrived.

  Flannel Man stepped forward, and I jerked behind the tree, covering my mouth again. Or was hiding weird?

  I should just say something. It was laser tag for fuck’s sake.

  Where was he now?

  I eased forward again to steal another peek. I squinted. He’d moved. Jesus, the bastard was crazy quiet.

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose.

  Whirling, I screamed as a huge hand encircled my throat.

  “I’m—” My words cut off in a pathetic wheeze at the painful grip.

  “Too easy, little bird,” he growled in my ear.

  He yanked on a vine near my head. The ground underfoot gave way, and I clawed for a hold on him, screaming as I fell.

  The bottom arrived rudely, and my knees bounced up to clip my chin. The shock of landing reverberated through my feet, and crying out, I sprawled against the dirt wall of the… of the pit.

  Fuck. Fuck.

  My hands shook.

  He’d put me in a hole. It was a trap.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped through the pain in my legs.

  Moonlight gleamed off his jaw, but the rest of his face was cast in shadow. I rubbed dirt from my mask, squinting up through the dirt-streaked lenses.

  He inhaled, sniffing again before freezing. A high-pitched whine left him.

  I pressed myself against the wall of the pit. There was something wrong with this guy.

  Seriously wrong.

  He sniffed again, and a lengthy curse slipped from between his gleaming teeth.

  Nuh-uh, he didn’t get to sound confused, shocked, and psychotic. That was my role.

  Cheeks flushing, I opened my mouth.

  “Reach for my hand,” he ordered, the tone harsh and clipped.

  My mouth bobbed.

  Was he fucking serious?

  “No way, you’re insane!” I snapped. “My family knows where I am, by the way. You better hope you’re gone by the time they find me. They’ll bury you.”

  Another whine slipping from him. He was actually whining—like a dog.

  “Please, I’m not going to hurt you. I’d never hurt you,” he rasped.

  My hands shook. Okay, I was beyond freaked out. Violent to pleading to fervent in the space of a minute.

  This guy was unsafe.

  He’d put me in a hole. In the ground. My chest tightened, and I splayed my hands against the dirt wall. “What are you going to do to me?”

  He boomed in a gravelled voice. “Take my hand.”

  Maybe I should take him up on that. My chances of escape were better out of the pit.

  I stepped into the middle, glaring upward. Not that he’d be able to see it through my bug mask.

  His breath hitched.

  I wanted to see his face. I wanted to know what the bastard looked like before he got on with whatever he planned for me. The moonlight had disappeared behind a cloud—or maybe the over-sized imbecile was blocking it himself. I reached to remove my mask.

  Shouts echoed from close by.
>
  “Help,” I screamed. “Help me!”

  “Fuck.” The man kicked something over the top of the hole and pitched me in complete and utter darkness.

  3

  “Please help me,” I shrieked.

  My phone. My phone.

  I turned the torch on, spinning in the tight confines. My breath rattled with my desperate inhales.

  I screamed again. Surely, the group could hear my screams. “I need help! I’m trapped down here!”

  Maybe I could carve some foothold in the dirt to climb out. I scoured the ground for a stone. That failing, I gouged at the wall with my fingers, digging out an indent.

  One.

  I yelled for help again, gasping pants echoing in the small space. I clawed out another hold. And a third.

  Taking my fake Converse off, followed by my socks, I shoved my foot into the first hold, reaching for the highest indent. I placed my phone between my teeth and pressed myself flat against the side. Grunting, I probed with my toes for the second foothold.

  Got it.

  The pit wasn’t that deep.

  Two more holds should do it. I stretched up to carve another foothold, face down to avoid the falling dirt, then moved higher. Gripping tight, I pulled myself up.

  “You aren’t taking me down, you fucker,” I puffed.

  Clinging to the wall, I dug out the last hold and then used one hand to push against the lid.

  It didn’t budge.

  Not even a whisper.

  But he kicked it in place like the top weighed nothing. Did he put a rock on top?

  I shoved with all my strength.

  This wasn’t happening.

  “Help me! Please,” I spluttered as dirt and leaves showered me.

  My grip on the wall disappeared. I squealed, falling to sprawl on the bottom of the pit again.

  A fresh shower of dirt and pine needles rained down on me as the lid was lifted.

  Coughing, I squinted through the glaring moonlight.

  “Steward?”

  This voice was different. I sat, voice shaking. “Please get me out of here.”

  “Why was the lid on?” someone asked.

  I shrieked. “Get me the fuck out of here!”

  “Oh, it’s Rhona.”

  There were sniggers. Multiple people were here. And they knew Rhona.

  I sagged.

  A rope ladder thudded against the wall. I snatched for it, taking a rung in an iron grip. Heaving myself up, I nearly burst into tears after crawling onto the forest floor.

  I stared at the small group. “My name isn’t Rhona. It’s Andie. A man trapped me in that hole. He kicked the lid over the top. I couldn’t get out. I didn’t think anyone would find me.” The pitch of my voice catapulted into hysterical territory, and finally, the group seemed to take me seriously.

  A man boomed, “You’re not a steward?”

  “No,” I snapped, struggling to confine my temper.

  “How did she get in?”

  The group exchanged a long glance, and a woman approached.

  “You’re not from Deception Valley?” she asked.

  I held up both hands. “If someone can please show me the way back to the manor, I’ll leave straightaway.”

  And never come back. This whole thing had turned into a nightmare.

  I sat in a chair, filthy and seething. A steaming mug of tea sat before me that I hadn’t touched out of sheer stubbornness.

  “Do you want a blanket?”

  Jerking, I glanced up at Eleanor, the woman who’d brought me here. She walked way too quietly. She shrugged at my glare and retreated with the blanket as silently as she’d arrived.

  I crossed my arms, scanning my surroundings. The manor was all polished wood and studded, leather furniture. In another situation, the stateliness might have intimidated. This office room was all Beauty and the Beast with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves—and a ladder I’d love to perch on while singing Disney songs.

  As it was, they had about five minutes before I stormed out and called the police or lit a fire. I only agreed to come inside because they’d mentioned talking to Herc and it felt like a failure to leave Deception Valley without meeting him once.

  “Andie, is it?”

  The temptation to reply with No, I’m Rhona, was real.

  The red-haired man I knew to be Hercules Thana moved past my chair to the heavyset desk that occupied most of the huge study.

  He faced me, and I clutched the armrests.

  Oh. My. God.

  His expression mirrored my shock.

  My fingers itched toward the picture in my pocket. The similarities between Hercules and my mother—his hair, for starters, and the sloped shape of his face—were more obvious in person. She’d had emerald irises like mine, and his were a clear blue, but the shape was the same.

  This guy was just shorter than me, the same height as Mum.

  “Yes, I’m Andie. I came to see you. I—” Quickly reaching into my back pocket, I drew out the picture, laying it flat. “You’re in this picture with my mother. Did you know her? Her name was Ragna Booker?”

  I held my breath.

  The man seemed stuck in a trance.

  Did he not remember her?

  “I’m—” He broke off, shaking his head. “—so sorry. This is a shock. Ragna, your mother is my sister.”

  Shoot. I really hadn’t considered this next part. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. She passed around ten days ago. Mum battled bone cancer for five years.”

  The man squeezed his blue eyes shut, turning to the large windows that looked out over expansive and manicured lawn.

  I studied his back.

  Such an emotional response. Yet Mum didn’t keep in touch with him. Judging by his surprise, Hercules never knew I existed until this moment.

  “Was she in pain at the end?” he asked.

  Did he want the honest answer?

  Hercules cut me a flat look over his shoulder. “The truth, please.”

  In my experience, people mostly wanted the nice, tidy answer. “It takes a lot of morphine to lessen pain that deep. She wasn’t always lucid in the last few weeks because of the medication. She’s out of pain now.”

  The matter-of-fact words rolled off my tongue—the only way I could deliver them. Cancer was a bitch like that. I’d lost my mother and she’d left a gaping hole in my heart. But my grief encompassed the five years I’d cared for her, the times I thought I couldn’t make it through the day, and the constant nagging guilt that I could have eased her pain by trying harder.

  Her cancer killed her in five years. The sickness would go on in my heart.

  I watched his shoulders shake and had to dig my nails into my thigh to avoid joining him. After the terrifying ordeal and a long day driving, bawling seemed like a fucking great idea.

  Hercules drew a hand over his face. Grabbing a tissue from the desk, he blew his nose.

  “I didn’t expect that,” the early-fifties man croaked. “Andie, I’m so very sorry for your loss.”

  His reaction wasn’t faked. He was distraught. It just didn’t jive given the situation.

  What happened here, Mum?

  Standing, I extended a hand. “I’m Andie Charise Booker.”

  That floored the poor guy all over again, and sympathy panged deep for him. At least I’d had a few days to process that my mother had a life I knew nothing about.

  “Hercules Thana,” he murmured. “Charise was our mother’s name.”

  Oddly, I did know that. Mum always told stories about her.

  He rubbed his forehead. “Sorry, your last name’s Booker. Did Ragna marry?”

  “No. My father left us when I was three. I guess she just changed it.”

  People didn’t just change their damn name. And Mum purposely hid the truth, lying to me about her birth certificate all those years ago. Then there was the first will too.

  Mum didn’t want me to find Deception Valley.

  I could only fathom t
he reason was to do with Dropkick. But I shouldn’t discount that it was to do with Hercules.

  “I see. It sounds like your life hasn’t been easy,” he said slowly.

  I couldn’t recall anyone speaking those words to me. The comment was something a responsible adult said to a child. If not an abandoned one, then one whose mother had a rampant gambling addiction, or one caring single-handedly for her ill mother.

  Shifting my attention to the shelves, I put more space between us.

  “I came because of the picture,” I replied, ignoring his comment. “Her birth certificate mentioned Deception Valley and the name Thana too.” I’d keep the discovery of the old will to myself for now. My mother’s last wish seemed too personal to share with her estranged brother. “I’d like to find out more about the place my mother’s from while I’m here.”

  “I’m happy to tell you everything I know.” He perched on the desk. “You may also be interested to learn why she left and why I didn’t know you existed?”

  Okay, I liked his straight-forward manner. “Yes. I would. As far as I was aware, Mum had no family.”

  A shadow crossed his gaze. “I’d be curious about it too. However, it’s late, and I want to make sure our conversation isn’t rushed. Could you meet here tomorrow at, say, ten?”

  Hmm, could I fit that into my crazy schedule? “Not a problem.”

  His faced turned grim. “Now, Eleanor told me you were attacked in the forest. Could you tell me what happened?”

  Shit, I’d genuinely forgotten that dirt covered me from head to toe and I spent most of my evening lost and trapped. I exhaled. “Right, yeah. I came here to talk to you, and someone offered to help, but laser tag started before I found you. I ended up lost in the forest, then some huge guy attacked me and shoved me in a hole.”

  “Was he wearing black?” he asked.

  I frowned. “Dark jeans and a dark-green flannel shirt. Why?”

  “He wasn’t from our side.”

  “I mean, I’m more concerned with what he did, actually. Not what side he was from.”

  Hercules leaned back in the leather chair. “You know that we play laser tag every Wednesday?”

  I cocked a brow. “Yes.”

  “It’s an old tradition here due to a long-held grudge between the two families in this town. A hundred years back, the feud was tearing Deception Valley in half. They decided to focus the anger into something that wouldn’t affect other families in the area.”