They stank of sweaty dog, rotten flesh, and shit. Their pelts were greasy, and their hair ragged. Some, as they snarled, were even missing teeth. This Pack was not in good shape. The lower a Pack was in standing, the more it suffered from the predations of other Packs and like-minded creatures.
'Fuck me, these pooches are manky as fuck,' said Dawn in a low voice. Plainly not low enough as any hackles that weren't raised popped up like spines, and there was a great baring of teeth. What slim chance of diplomacy we might have had was utterly pissed away.
'Apprentice, you know how wolves have really good hearing? Well, they heard that.'
And then the time for words was passed.
They surged forward, as if they expected us to meet them in the middle of the square. Fuck that. We started moving back into the street we'd just left. I threw fire at them, the blue light streaking through the air before it exploded on the lead Were.
Dawn was picking her shots, aiming for their legs to slow them down. Silver bullets are expensive, and I hadn't planned on needed them for this mission. Snarling as I watched my target now completely wreathed in flames, frantically try to put itself out, I made a mental note to ensure that Dawn always had a clip with her.
Another Were fell to the floor, yipping and yelping as she blew its kneecap off. As it tumbled, it tripped up two just behind it. Perfect, I thought as their line broke, some falling behind, others too eager to close with us to either care or notice.
'We're in! Changing mag!'
'Hold!' My Shield was up, left foot toward, knee slightly bent, right leg behind me, and braced. I extended my right hand slightly so I could continue to Cast. Dawn placed a hand in the small of my back, tucking her lead leg in between mine. I cast another spell that I liked to call Ten Ton. It increased my mass by tenfold, literally turning me into an immovable statue for as long as I needed it. I couldn't move whilst it was on, but anyone running into me was going to seriously regret it.
Positioned in a narrow alley as we were, the Weres had bunch up to take us on, allowing me the perfect opportunity to Cast what I liked to call Magic Missiles. I like D&D, so sue me. A bolt flew from each of my fingers. Their silver colour had the desired effect.
These weren't the toughest Weres. They'd had their arses handed to them daily. Veterans of numerous gutter fights, they were used to fighting other Were, not a Magic user such as myself. As such they recoiled at the sight of the missiles, their natural fear of silver overriding their natural desire to eat my face off. They were like fire and forget missiles, racing across the short distance between us to bury themselves into a Were each, knocking them off balance as they punched through their bodies.
And then they were on us. The first two slammed into me and my Shield, the Ten Ton spell stopping them as surely as if they'd run slap-bang into a wall. Bones and teeth broke at the impact, and the rest of the charge behind piled into them, adding to their injuries. Blood and other fluids spattered the front of my Shield. Howls of pain pierced my ears, the noisemaking me wince.
The enemy was now well and truly on the back foot, staggering away from us with numerous injuries, clearing a few feet or so between us. I dropped Ten Ton, fired off another spray of Magic Missiles, called up my sword, and then stamped forward with a lunge, driving my sword deep into skull of a Were that had fallen to the ground. It went straight through, the pressure popping one of the beast's eyes from its socket.
Twisting my blade to make the wound as large as possible, I withdrew it and performed an overhead cut at another, the Magical blade severing several of its fingers and part of its hand. And then Dawn pulled me back into the alley.
'My turn,' she said. Taking advantage of the utter chaos before us, she fired five well-placed shots into the nearest Were, each shot taking them in either the head or the knee. They might heal quickly, but a 9mm still does a fuck-ton of damage. 'I'm out, boss lady,' she whispered. She'd have to switch to using Magic. Not her strongest skill set. I'd concentrated on teaching her mostly defensive and stealth-based skills, what offence she had was good enough for taking out the odd Mundane but wouldn't do much to hurt the bastards in front of us.
Howls filled the air, coming from across the other side of the square, quickly followed by a handful of slightly fitter-looking Weres. Momma and poppa come to help their children. Unlike wolves, Werewolves did have a distinct hierarchy, with momma and poppa being Alpha and Beta respectively. That's right, bitches rule. And man, was this bitch fucking steaming!
I sent Lightning playing over the Were in front of us, the stench of burnt flesh and hair adding to the miasma of the pack. Wrinkling my nose, I realised that the Air Charm was running out. Things were going from worse to worst very quickly.
As quickly as I could, I cast another Fireball. Still reeling from the effects of the lightning, my targets were caught completely on the back foot. Clustered together, the effects of the Fireball were like I'd got my own pet dragon. Three of them were completely engulfed in blue flames, their agonised screams almost drowning out the sounds of the rest of the pack.
The ones we'd injured earlier were almost ready to get back into the fight, something we couldn't afford now that Dawn was so restricted in her options.
'I'm going to have to Shift.'
'Fuck, that's not good.' Understatement of the Year Award went to Dawn. Shifted, I would only be able to deal Shifter damage, no Magic. And seeing a beautiful kitty before them was going to drive the Were utterly wild. Well, wilder than they were before.
'Fuck no,' I said, then shifted, relying on Dawn being able to fend for herself.
We had two down from a kneecapping and a Fireball. Three more were trying to put themselves out, five had been shot in the face, and the newest arrivals were fit as a fiddle and raring to go, which they announced with howls and barks. I roared back, my voice easily drowning out theirs. I needed to establish dominance in their minds, shake the faith of the Alpha female that she was the hardest bitch around. Break their OODA loop.
It worked. They paused in their charge forward, long enough for me to slash my paw across the face of one of the downed Weres. Her neck snapped with the force of the blow, my claws ripping the flesh from her head, leaving gaping wounds and bare, yellow bone.
My next victim was still struggling with a compound fracture of the ribs. It must have fucking hurt, but he was still trying to get back into the fight. He stopped as soon as I bit his muzzle off, hot blood filling my mouth. God, it felt good. I forced the ecstasy that such Magical blood filled me with and leapt for my next victim. I landed on her, sank my teeth into her shoulder blade, and then opened her guts with my rear claws.
All of that happened in the blink of an eye, relatively speaking. Five seconds at the most. Cats move fucking fast, is a well-known phrase. Magically imbued cats move a fuckton faster. So it was that I was upon momma and poppa before they had time to properly understand that I'd killed their stinking puppehs.
The three Were with them were salivating at the chops in their eagerness to kill me. As befitted their station, they move in, trying to flank me. Their leader looked like Gizmo, of Gremlins fame. He was one ugly motherfucker, absolutely huge. Naturally I went for him first. Were are very much in touch with their bestial nature. Shifters aren't. So, I span and donkey-kicked kicked him square in the bollocks. Were, being unspayed, have impressively massive bollocks. This one's were huge. Until my claws ripped his right off with an impressively large shower of fresh blood.
Using the kick as momentum, I launched myself directly at momma. Her eyes widened in almost comical surprise.
Muscles bulged in places that shouldn't have had muscles. She was coloured like a badger, mostly black, but with large streaks of white hair, her relationship to Gizmo was more than clear. Flying towards her, I extended my lead legs, digging claws into her chest as I landed, my weight knocking her to the ground.
I gave a couple of quick kicks with my rear claws, cutting into her soft belly. Her teeth snapped closed, barely a
hair's breadth away from my own muzzle. Stars exploded before my eyes as something slammed into the side of my head. I went with the blow, rolling off momma and away from the attack.
A shadow was the only warning I had before a foot came crashing down towards me. I kept rolling, nowhere near as graceful as if I'd been human, but good enough to avoid the ground-shaking impact of poppa's kick.
Back onto all fours, I sprang away, clearing a good ten feet of distance between the two of us. Flanks heaving, I watched as Momma slowly got to her feet, one huge paw clasped to the gaping wounds I'd left in her gut. Gizmo was still lying where he'd collapsed, changed back to the human he had once been. When dead, all Were changed back to their human form. It made it incredibly hard to prove that Were existed, which is why they were still only the subject of myth amongst Mundanes rather than living in zoos.
Poppa joined her, both yipping and yapping at each other, Poppa sniffing her wounds briefly as she snapped at him. I was forgotten for a few seconds, something for which I was very grateful. Poppa hit like a truck, and I was still seeing stars in the eye on the side that he'd struck. I was also utterly chin strapped, lungs struggling for air.
Although I like to keep myself fit, the last few hours were truly taking their toll, especially all the Casting. A quick check let me see that Dawn was still in the clear, surrounded by a clutch of dead Were. She looked just as rough as I did, but she had everything in hand. A shaky thumbs-up showed me that she felt she was good to go.
'You killed my children!' Momma barked at me. It was hard to make out the words as a Were's muzzle isn't really designed for shaping human words, but I'd had a lot of practice on previous Marks.
'Yeah, well, sorry. But they were trying to eat a member of the Guild of Esteemed Agents of the Mark.' It sounded pretentious even to my own ears, and by the way she cocked her head, my own muzzle was mucking up my words, 'Pure self-defence. So how about you fuck off and let us get back to our jobs?'
Never let it be said that I wasn't diplomatic. I don't think they agreed though. Weres can communicate with each on a telepathic level of some sort. Which is why they launched into the attack with absolutely no warning. Momma came high, Poppa came low. On all fours as I was, I only had one option, attack.
Poppa came in with a kick, foot moving so quickly that it blurred. I twisted, patting the blow slide across my flank rather than landing fully. It felt like my side was on fire, his foot claws cutting cleanly through my flesh. It was a hit I was willing to take.
I'd moved to the inside of his thigh, which meant that his femoral artery was now open to my counter-attack. I didn't give him a chance to regain his balance. I bit deeply, my fangs sinking into the soft flesh with an ease that always surprised me when I had a chance to reflect. Once I had a hold, I simply shook my head from side to side, like a dog playing with a rope. Killing someone, something, is far easier than it should be. I gagged as his blood sprayed over my muzzle, its stench filling my nostrils.
He howled, so loudly that my ears sang. So loudly that I didn't hear Momma. She bit down on my shoulder, teeth grating on bone as they parted the muscle. To say it hurt was a fucking understatement. It was some of the worst pain I'd ever felt. Her weight bore me down as the shock of the bite took the strength from my legs. Bites do that, you know. As do stabs. Just an inch's worth of penetration can take the ability to stand right out of you. I yowled, writhing beneath her, desperately trying to get free from her. Even more pain racked my body as my struggles caused her to bite deeper, tearing my flesh even more.
'Get the fuck off her, bitch!' There was a meaty thwack, a sound I knew to be made by Dawn's club. The silver and iron-tipped end gave a heft to it that tended to make even animals as big as Momma sit up and take notice. Especially the silver in this case. Momma helped, her grip lessening just enough for me to wriggle free and, as she turned her head slightly at Dawn's next blow, to get a grip on her throat.
As much as I wanted to, I stopped myself from ripping out her gizzards. Right now, she was the only person in a position to help us find Stinky Pete, as there was no way that someone such as he wouldn't have come to her Pack's attention at some point in time. Slime attracts slime, and there wasn't a chance in hell that Pete would be able to get the help of a stronger pack.
With my teeth around her throat, Momma went instantly limp, which meant that Dawn's follow-up strike removed a good number of teeth.
'Stbip,' I said, unable to release my hold, 'st…bip!' I said a bit louder as the club came crashing down again.
'Fuck's sake, I can't understand a bloody word. You want me to stop.' From what I could see, she was panting, chest heaving with exertion and a patina of sweat covering her skin.
'Uh huh.'
'Right. Why?'
Fuck me, I thought as my supposed apprentice continued to ignore the fact that I had my teeth wrapped around a Were's neck, drool running freely, and that I couldn’t talk. I think the growl, hiss, and very cat-like state I gave her was message enough.
'Oh. Want me to ask about Stinky Pete?' I lashed my tail in agreement. 'Right. You,' she rapped the Were on the head with her club, 'where's Stinky Pete?'
I tensed, ready to kill the Were if she used answering our questions as a pretext for escape. More drool escaped my mouth. It was both gross and tickled slightly.
'Hiding. Trolls. Old Bridge. Shute Street.' Every word was snarled out. She fucking hated us with all of her being. Rightly so, considering we'd massacred her entire Pack.
Still, she wasn't to know that I was an old hand at dealing with Were. It helped that they weren't exactly the finest specimens. They were like the LARP'ing fatties that always barrel around at white supremacy meets. Threatening because they had guns, but also a complete and utter bunch of useless tits when facing well-trained opposition.
'Thanks,' I said. Then ripped out her throat.
'Damn. That was fucking cold,' said Dawn. I ignored her, trying my best not to retch as the Were turned back into a greasy-haired and saggy-skinned woman in her late forties. She might have charitably been called handsome when she was younger, but she had never been a looker.
'Let me change. We'll have a break, and then let's go find that twat, Pete.'
Once I'd Shifted back, we realised we couldn't stay where we were and have a rest. People, something we hadn't seen for hours, started to come out onto the streets. Grimacing, I watched as one of them took a pair of pliers and yanked out a gold tooth from the mouth of one of the Were.
'Shit, don't like the idea of that happening to us!' said Dawn as we moved on.
I was hurting, and a bone deep exhaustion kept trying to pull me to the ground. I wanted to do nothing more than just close my eyes and sleep. I needed to sort out my wounds, as well.
'We've got to find somewhere to rest for a bit. I'm bloody knackered.'
I was also worried the vultures would decide we looked like easy prey. And they'd been right. I barely had enough strength to heal myself. Dawn had picked up a limp, as well.
I looked at every dwelling we passed. Despite being in a shit state, they all looked lived in. We needed somewhere deserted. I said so to Dawn, my words slurring as the exhaustion built. There was probably some blood loss involved. The pain was starting to make itself well and truly known. It throbbed, pulsing through my entire body with every step.
'You look like shit, boss,' whispered Dawn as she gently put her arm around me. She was strong, able to take my weight, so I didn't have to limp quite so obviously. I leant on her, happy for her help. Pride was something that could, and should, be put aside. Those who were unable to do so often suffered from their hubris. I was more than happy to take pride in my work, but not too proud to refuse help when freely given.
'This place looks good, boss,' Dawn said as she came to a stop outside what could only charitably be called a hovel. It was utterly decrepit. The door itself was full of holes, hung loose from its hinges, whilst thatch poked down from the low roof. It also stank. Shit. Piss. Dead things
.
'Stick with me, and I'll take you to all the good places,' I slurred.
'Ha,' she said, kicking the door open. 'Oh God, that fucking stinks!'
The Charm had well and truly worn off, and I was going to have to save every bit of strength I had for what was coming next. I needed to heal, and I needed to rest. If Stinky Pete truly was with a family of Trolls, we were going to have yet another fight on our hands. The thought made me want to cry, I was that tired.
Inside the hovel was even worse than the outside. It was a one-room dwelling. An old fireplace dominated one wall, piled high with debris, a three-legged chair stood next to a collapsed two-flees table. There was a cot, on which lay the bodies of what looked like a couple of cats. Their shit was all over the floor.
'Jesus, this isn't the bloody Ritz.'
'Right now, I'll take it, babes. I'm bloody dead on my feet.'
Dawn set about clearing a space on the floor. There was no way I was going to be able to use the cot. The cats' bodily fluids had soaked through the Hessian blanket and into the straw mattress below it. As soon as there was room enough, I settled myself down onto the floor and triggered my Healing, biting down on the stick once more. The pain was nowhere near as bad as last time, but still, darkness descended.
It was so dark when I opened my eyes that I couldn't be sure they were in fact open. There was a weight across my chest, and it took me a while to work out that it was Dawn's arm. Her head was lying on my shoulder. Her breath tickled my neck as she sighed in her sleep.
It felt amazing. Everything I'd ever wanted. It was blissful and painful in equal measure. Still, the stink of cat shit was starting to make my stomach churn, and I could have sworn my nasal hairs had been burned away.
Hell Hound Page 19
