Stalk (Hotblooded Book 1)

by Victoria Danann

  Stalk

  Hotblooded

  Book 1

  Victoria Danann

  Copyright 2018 Victoria Danann

  Published by 7th House Publishing

  Imprint of Andromeda LLC

  Read more about this author and upcoming works at VictoriaDanann.com

  FOREWORD

  THE EARTH GOES DARK

  Hearing his craftmate’s loud gasp, Dawson jerked his head in her direction to see what was wrong. The station was on the dark side of the planet, traveling through space at over seventeen thousand miles per hour. Following Snyder’s line of sight, he looked toward Earth.

  Nothing out of the ordinary so far as he could tell. Modern lights lit the planet at night making it look like a wannabe star.

  “What’s wrong?” A gasp was something that needed to be taken seriously on a space station. Overly emotional responses to stimuli would bust a prospective attendant out before they ever got to the written exam. Snyder wasn’t overly emotional. In fact, Dawson might have said she was as unemotional as a person could be; man or woman.

  “Didn’t you see that?” she said.

  He looked again. “I don’t see anything unusual.”

  She shook her head in frustration and scrunched up her mouth. “The lights blinked.”

  “You mean a section of lights on Earth? Big power outage?”

  “No!” She almost yelled. “All the lights. Every last one. They all went out at the same time.”

  Dawson wouldn’t conclude that Snyder had overstayed her viability without reasonable inquiry. “Are you sure it wasn’t just your own blinking? Could there be another explanation?”

  “Come on. That would be the antithesis of what we do. Which may look like babysitting records, but it’s supposed to be science. Right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you know we never rule out the possibility of alternative explanations. But I’m telling you the lights blinked. All of them. All at once.”

  He stared at her for a couple of beats and then punched the communication link. When the sound fed into the speaker, it sounded like all hell had broken loose. Screaming. Shuffling. High-pitched scratching noises. Glancing at Snyder, he saw that she looked as wide-eyed as he felt.

  “Spot to Tank. Spot to Tank. What’s going on there?”

  A few seconds later, a voice both breathless and anxious said, “Got trouble here, Spot. No explanation right now. Power went down and when it came back up, stuff was wrong. And we’ve got some kind of wild animal in here banging around and scaring people.”

  He sounded like he was one of the people being ‘scared’. “We’ll get back to you when things are settled.”

  The comm went dead.

  Dawson looked at Snyder. “Guess you didn’t imagine it.”

  PROLOGUE May Day

  A radioactive meteor passed close to Earth. Power went out all over the globe, vibrational barriers between dimensions dropped temporarily, and some alien species - whose vibrations were close enough to that of ours, were able to step through without harm. The aliens who were stranded here were more confused than anyone.

  It wasn’t the first time that meteor traffic had played havoc with the Earth. One of the more recent events occurred a little over twelve thousand years ago and didn’t end well. A large radioactive meteor passed close enough to Earth to suspend the thin barriers that separate dimensions according to rates of vibration.

  The barriers, or walls, fell temporarily, causing a temporary lapse of dimensional integrity with long-lasting consequences that were tragic. The incident caused the accidental migration of inhabitants from one dimension to another that was similar enough in vibration to make survival possible. A person, for instance, in the process of moving forward would unintentionally step into an alternate dimension and be stranded.

  Sometimes in places with conventional reference points, that kept transition shock to a minimum. Sometimes in places with alien landscapes and species.

  From what has been gathered, such an occurrence deposited travelers, here in our dimension, who were considerably more advanced technologically.

  Twelve thousand years ago, members of a more advanced race crossed into our dimension and built structures that caused the great flood and the sinking of Atlantis. Werewolves had left progeny behind that carried an untraceable shifter gene. Dormant.

  Until awakened by mating with a full-blooded werewolf.

  Shortly after the incident, the event came to be known as May Day simply because it occurred on the first of May. The name for the traditional coming-of-spring observance would be thereafter altered to designate the dimensional mishap that left so many stranded in worlds where they didn’t belong. It was an effort to disassociate the incident with high emotion, a good idea that didn’t work.

  Some from other places were left here. Some that belonged here had disappeared and, even though every city had a centralized location where loved ones could post photos and leave flowers or burning votives, everybody knew somebody who had lost someone. And the world had been turned on end in the blink of an eye.

  The conventional wisdom about withholding panic-inducing news from the public was bypassed. Cover up was impossible in this case and overnight, everyone knew that we experience reality alongside many others, invisible to us. Everyone also learned conclusively that other species exist in those realities.

  CHAPTER ONE The Second Coming of Chaos

  One of the species that had been stranded in this dimension was canine shifters, werewolves as they were sometimes called in fantasy. Being disinclined to panic, the werewolves, each individually, used their cunning to quickly assess their circumstances and determine what was required to survive. Utilizing their innate talent for strategy and seduction, they were able to identify missing humans who were a reasonably close match to anthropoid bodies, were without families and were, basically, antisocial. Being shrewd as well as cunning, they made matches with candidates with financial assets.

  New lives could be built in a new world without money, but money could go a long way toward building walls of privacy and providing the one thing they needed most, after company, of course. That thing was territory. Freedom.

  The government made it almost too easy by publishing an open database of the missing and requested that corrections be made if someone listed was present and accounted for. Each shifter made his choice then notified the government that they were not missing. They were sorry for the misunderstanding, but had been sailing in the Caribbean or fishing in the Gulf or on an archeological expedition in the Amazon.

  By the time the dust of the catastrophe began to settle, seven shifters had found each other through a curious intersection of tech and primeval instinct. Each of the seven, while dealing with his own personal disorientation and sense of loss, quickly identified the Pacific Northwest as the most suitable habitat on the North American continent. Millions of acres of national parks and wildlife reserves were attractive. That, and the cooler temperatures, made the locale almost ideal as shifter temperatures run a full three degrees warmer than humans.

  It took only a few weeks to come across each other. Shifters in wolf form can cover great distances. In so doing they came across the scent of others who were similar to themselves if not identical, but definitely distinctive from wild wolves. And each felt immeasurable relief to find others. For social animals, abject solitude would be a sentence to hell.

  That was one of the reasons why Ken Sahabe was admitted to the pack without hesitation even though he was not a canine, but a spotted hyena. The pack decided Ken’s social and hunting needs were close enough and admitted him.

  The hard wiring of pack behavior hadn’t changed for millennia. Howe
ver, the language used to describe certain facts of pack life was altered for modern times so that it seemed more politic. For example, rather than saying the alpha decided, which was true, the thought would be expressed as ‘the pack decided’. In Ken’s case, though the actual wolves didn’t have a real vote, they accepted him like one of their own species.

  CHAPTER TWO The New Normal

  The formation of pack didn’t require lengthy caucus or constitution. It was immediate because a wolf pack is a perfect mechanism of social organization. With only a couple of minor skirmishes, pack order was established. The seven shifters pooled their resources, which turned out to be considerable when combined, and set common goals. First and foremost was a place to call home. Second would be gainful employment, not just to keep cash flowing, but because busyness is almost always the best way forward.

  Within a week of beginning their search, they agreed on a former hunting/fishing lodge on a mountain lake at a place called Riley’s Ridge. Again, ‘agreement’ was a euphemism for a decision made by the new alpha, Grey Mahler, who was a big northwestern timber wolf.

  The lodge had failed as an enterprise. Maybe because of difficult and expensive access. Maybe because of mismanagement. Regardless, the former owner’s misfortune was glad tidings for the pack of stranded shifters.

  The price was cheap to begin with. Rapp Souther, a Texas red wolf, whose former name would be unpronounceable by any culture occupying his present reality, negotiated with charm and diligence and got it even cheaper.

  The lodge needed décor and updating, but it had what counted. Beautiful bone structure. None of the wolves had ever seen a lodge made of logs before, but they fell in love with the concept on sight. They could feel like they were connected to forest when in anthropoid form as well as wolf form. Thirteen suites with bath, a great room with A-frame ceiling and two story stone fireplace, recreation room, small library with hard cover books and games, dining room, industrial kitchen, office, and three cabins that had been occupied by the owner and employees. The place was in an alarming state of disrepair, but with all it had to offer in terms of privacy and wilderness, that was not a deterrent.

  They did, however, begin the occupation of their new homestead by making enemies when they evicted raccoons. They were ready to fight to keep their cushy hotel until Ken bared his teeth and shifted just enough to throw an alien-sounding growl their way. The raccoons stopped in their tracks and stared at Ken. When he began to emit a vocalization that could only be described as a growly giggle, they quickly decided that retreat was better than valor.

  The pack stood in their new home, alone for the first time, surveying the broken windows, stuffing pulled from furniture, and buckled wood from rain damage. The place was a mess, which is why any outside observer would have been mystified by what happened next.

  Even with the dilapidated condition of the living quarters, they couldn’t help but be satisfied with the location and its beauty. They could wander for many miles in wolf form, cross the invisible border into British Columbia and spend days at a time without encountering a single human.

  So far as scenery went, they’d arrived when the wildflowers were at their peak and the mountain was putting on a grand show of Shooting Stars, Buttercups, Fairybells, Larkspur, and Dogtooth Violets.

  The abundance, variety, and health of the plants immediately gave Kai Mura an idea. Kai was a Hokkaido wolf, extinct in this world since the 1930s. His wolf form was smaller than the others, but his feet were larger and, oddly enough, his eyes had an Asian slant.

  He’d been a horticulturalist in his dimension of origin. Cannabis had just been legalized in the territory and he suspected several strains would flourish with the right encouragement. He asked if any of the others would like to be growers and got two takers; Rapp and Shea Loakey. In turn, Shea, an Arctic white wolf, suggested that Nick Sigil, a gray wolf, and Mars Uno, a Mexican wolf, might help with the business end of things, since both had been engaged in commerce in their former lives and knew how to navigate the strange terrain of money making.

  The other two shifters, Ken and Grey, were the furthest thing from businessmen or farmers. They were hunters pure and simple. They declared they would contribute to the pack’s finances by offering their services as guides to recreational gentlemen hunters.

  Kai said, “Will you take an oath that the hunters won’t end up being your prey?”

  Grey Mahler responded with a lupine smile.

  “Tell you what,” Grey said. “We’ll ask them if they would hunt wolves if they had the chance. If they say no, it’s all good. If they say yes or seem excited about the possibility?” He paused before continuing. “Then we might turn the tables. Show them what it’s like to be hunted.”

  The pack exchanged glances, silently asking each other, ‘Is he kidding?’

  Rapp, the pack omega, decided to alleviate the ripple of uncertainty, make the call that it was a joke and treat it as such. “Hard to argue with that.” He laughed.

  Nick was no novice at enterprise. In his own world he’d repeatedly started businesses, grown them to a stage that would be attractive to buyers, and sold. His old pack would have called him a workaholic and he wouldn’t have been able to argue with that. He really wasn’t interested in much else besides work and free runs or hunts on weekends. He believed that business was hunting, in its own way.

  So he painstakingly put together a business plan and took it to the alpha. Grey didn’t know enough about business to proclaim the plan a winner or a loser, but he could read pack members like he could see into their minds.

  “How much do you need?” Grey said.

  When Nick named the figure, Grey whistled. “That’s a pretty big risk. It wouldn’t wipe us out, but it would hurt.”

  Nick raised his chin and displayed a thinly disguised smirk as he said, “I’ll make a presentation if you want to put it to a vote.”

  “Yeah?” Grey said. “Didn’t take you for a comedian.”

  “I can’t tell you there’s no chance of losing money. But I used to make money.” He paused. “Before.”

  Grey nodded almost imperceptibly. “Okay. Where you gonna set up?”

  Nick looked around. “It can’t be here. We can hire one person to start, but it won’t be long before we need more. If we’re going to be big, we have to look big.” Nick smirked again. “I guess you know all about that.” Grey emitted a little growl of warning. Nick chuckled. “Bottom line. We need to set up in town.

  “Mars and I have been talking it out. We’re thinking I’ll handle distribution. He’ll handle retail outlets. If we keep a hand in every aspect of the operation from seed to point of purchase, we’ll never be hungry. And you know what else?”

  “What?”

  “This is something people will always buy. No matter how the humans manage to fuck up their economy, they’ll always buy cannabis in some form. Either because they’re sick, or in pain, or can’t sleep. Whatever.”

  Grey looked at Mars Uno. “You’re in?”

  “He knows what he’s doing,” Mars affirmed.

  “And he’s a charmer,” Nick said, referring to Mars. “I’m guessing he could sell anything. We’re lucky to have him.”

  “Okay. What are you gonna call it?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. L&F Pack.”

  Grey raised an eyebrow. “Should I ask?”

  Nick shrugged. “Lost and found.”

  Grey looked away, sighed, and said, “That about sums it up, doesn’t it? Sounds like we have a family business. While you’re at it, maybe you can help Ken and me figure out the best way to offer our services as guides.”

  “You willing to have hunters come stay here? At the L&F Lodge?”

  Grey looked shocked. “No!”

  “Hmmm. Think about it. Maybe not all the time. Maybe just a couple times a year. Select parties.”

  Kai got up to leave, but made one last comment over his shoulder. “We can’t afford patterns. Humans like puzzles. A
nd they’re good at solving. Hunters take a trip to the Cascades. Don’t come back. Sooner or later, we become the prey.”

  Mahler breathed in a deep sigh as he studied Kai. Giving alphas advice was always a tad tricky. After a few beats, Grey said, “Hear you, brother.”

  So they set about the business of repairing the lodge and decided to do the work themselves. Even if more skilled craftsmen could be hired, they opted for preserving privacy. They would have liked to outsource housekeeping duties but again, thought doing their own domestic chores was better than having outsiders know everything about them and the way they lived. Everyone was put on duty roster rotation except the alpha.

  The restoration of their lodge was like a living metaphor for piecing torn lives back together and reforming family. As they rebuilt and reshaped their new home, they learned about the members of their adopted family.

  In four-legged form Ken’s ears would have given him the look of a cute stuffed animal except for the fact that there was nothing cute about his teeth or the demonic gleam in his black eyes. The slope of his back made him look almost deformed and gave him an awkward-looking run, which the others teased him about mercilessly. Fortunately, the hyena-shifter had a marvelous sense of humor that included self-deprecation and contagious laughter that he exercised easily and often, if somewhat loudly.

  He had a strong preference for going shirtless - all the time, which revealed curious faint traces of spots that rippled under his skin. Grey warned that Ken needed to keep a shirt handy just in case a visitor surprised them by wandering onto the property.

  Ken grinned. “Lots of people have tattoos, boss.”

  Grey leveled a look at him. “Don’t make me say it again.”

  “Going to get a shirt right now,” Ken said, setting his hammer down to go hunt up a shirt.