The Last of Her Kind

by B F Worlds

  "He won't listen to you?" She laughed harshly. "An alpha doesn't ask, Lamar. He commands. If your father isn't listening to you, you make him listen, you toothless dog."

  Lamar popped to his feet angrily. "What did you just call me mutt?"

  Dean slammed her fist into his chest, knocking him back against the tree and then used her hand to hold him there. "I'm leaving. Whether that's the right decision or not, I don't know, but I've made up my mind. But my family will be here. Without me to protect them, their lives are in your hands. Right now, you're not inspiring confidence. You look pathetic, moping about like some kicked puppy. Master Lou did you a favor sending you away. The wolves who you're meant to lead someday barely have any respect for you as it is."

  He gritted his teeth under her verbal onslaught but didn't raise a hand to push her away. "Is this what you came to do? Insult me?"

  "No, I came to make you a promise. If something should happen to my family, I will hold you responsible. And there will be hell to pay." She let him go and stepped back. "Remember that."

  His shoulders slumped and he leaned back into the tree, his face pinched with worry. "Yeah, I got it. I'm not a complete failure. Anything that threatens this family has to go through me first."

  This is could be the last time I see him. The thought allowed her to drop some of her bitter feelings and really see him. Not as the alpha he was supposed to be, but as the boy struggling under the weight of his responsibilities.

  For a moment, she dredged up something akin to pity for him. He hadn't always been bad. They'd been close when they were small. I don't want to leave on an argument.

  Focusing on her memories of a better time, she placed one hand over his heart and the other on his forehead. "The key to control is peace in both the heart and the mind. It feels like the anger makes you strong. I understand. The animal is emotion. It revels in them, but you have to put your feelings to the side. Put the expectations to the side, along with your insecurities. And yes, my abstinence makes me better than you. If it weren't for the alcohol and your constant pity party, you would have made Warrior years ago."

  Dean grinned broadly, thumping him in the chest gently. "Good luck Mars. I know you can do it."

  She hadn't really believed her cousin loved her in a romantic way. Not until she saw the way his face lit up at her words. She couldn't read the emotion in his eyes, but she could see the tears welling in their corners. "You don't have to go," Lamar spoke softly.

  "I-"

  "I don't want you to go!" he blurted over her. "This isn't right. I don't care about me anymore. This isn't right and I'm going to convince my father to let you stay."

  Dean shook her head. "Thank you, but I know you can't. Lucien wants me gone. It's too late."

  "Then I'll become stronger and I'll bring you home." He reached forward and grasped her hands. "It might take a few years, but I'll bring you home, I swear it. Will you wait for me Deanna?"

  Her smile trembled as she watched his heart break. She didn't believe he would make good on his claims soon enough for it to matter, but if he needed this dream to keep him going in her absence, the least she could do is let it be. "Yeah, I'll be waiting."

  -

  Though it was only two bags, her father insisted on carrying them for her. Dean didn't bother arguing because she could see how close he was to going over the edge. She knew it helped for him to believe he was doing something.

  The gate was the only part of the wall that wasn't stone. It was two tall iron grills that could be pulled into the wall, the black metal spotted with rust spots. An aging Warrior, too old to fight but not old enough to put down the uniform, stood where they met, ready to pull them aside.

  Once they reached the gate, Lok didn't have a reason to hold onto the bags and reluctantly handed them over. "I don't like this," he grumbled for what had to be the hundredth time.

  "It has to be done Father." It was just the two of them. Lorna had gotten her teary goodbye and was too broken up to follow them. Deava had stayed behind to comfort her. "Do you have the phone?"

  "Yeah." He reached in his pocket and brandished the tiny flip phone she'd gotten him. Isolated as they were, the pack couldn't afford to be entirely cut off from technology, even if they were taught not to trust anything made by humans. The Warriors carried the phones out of necessity, but that was the extent of their communications equipment. "I'll get Lucien to show me how it works."

  "I'm glad the two of you are talking." And she meant it. She was still angry with her uncle, and was grateful he hadn't shown his face since he delivered his ultimatum, but she didn't want it to affect her father. Life was hard when the alpha was angry with you.

  "Barely." The rest was left unspoken. They both understood his survival hinged on whether or not he could forgive his brother. For his sake, she hoped it happened sooner rather than later.

  Lok grabbed her and wrapped her in a hug strong enough to make her bones creak under the pressure. Instead of asking for him to let up, Dean returned it with just as much strength.

  "I love you, Deanna. Stay safe. And if you run into trouble, you call. Lucien be damned, you're my pup and I'll come running."

  She gave him one final squeeze before stepping back and picking up her bags. "The same goes for you. Lucien be damned, if any of you need anything...."

  "Yeah, I got it."

  Dean fought the urge to hug him again and turned to the gate. The Warrior nodded to her and gripped one of the bars. The muscles in his arms visibly strained as he dragged one of the grills to the side, making an opening just large enough for a person to walk through. When he was finished, he stepped aside and snapped a quick salute. Her hands were too full to return the gesture comfortably so she simply nodded. "Thank you."

  "We don't forget."

  Dean looked over at him, but he stared past her, his expression impossible to read. Shrugging, she disregarded him and walked past the gate, confident she would realize what he meant when she needed to.

  She wasn't expecting her reaction to the sound of the grill being slammed back into place. Her lungs constricted as the knowledge of being closed off to her home settled in her mind.

  Breathe she thought, fighting down a wave of nausea that made her head swim. Breathe. The hairs on her neck stood on end as a heavy gaze landed on her back. Most likely, it was her father. She didn't dare turn around to make sure because, if she did, he'd see the panic on her face and would rip the gate apart to reach her. You knew what this meant when you made the decision. Get control of yourself! BREATHE!

  She forced herself to take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the dizziness recede with it. Now, one step at a time. Her right foot felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as she raised it high, taking a small step forward. Next, she forced her left foot to follow it. Then she was running, leaving her home behind.

  -

  By nightfall, Dean had made it halfway down the mountain the compound was built on and realized she had no idea where she was going. She had started out with the vague idea of making it to the city and starting from there but, as she walked, she realized several problems.

  First, she knew nothing about cities. Her pack lived on undeveloped land and thrived in the wild. Also, if she could rely on what she had been taught, cities were a mixing pot of the races, many of which despised blood wolves. If she wasn't careful, walking into the wrong place could get her killed.

  Secondly, she didn't know if she was allowed in the city. Now that she had left the pack, did that mean she couldn't be anywhere near pack land? They hadn't had to deal with a rogue wolf her entire life so she had no idea how the pack treated them. Would Lucien send his Warriors to chase her away if she lingered too long? And how long was too long?

  She thought herself in circles around the small campfire she had built until she finally collapsed into frustrated laughter. "Gods, when did my life get so complicated?" she asked the sky.

  One of the stars seemed to twinkle brighter under her at
tention. Dean narrowed her eyes, thinking her mind was playing tricks on her. But, no, the star was shining brighter. And coming closer.

  She bounded to her feet, her eyes widening as the hairs along her arm stood on end. That wasn't a star. Now that it was closer, she could see it was some kind of object. And the light behind it was all wrong, a violent orange tail instead of the soft blue of the heavens. It came closer and Dean could make out its shape; long, with sleek, gray sides that angled into a yellow head.

  After several moments of staring at it, a memory from her training slowly swam to the surface. She had seen something like that before. It was a missile! And there was only one target on the mountain it could be aimed at.

  Helpless, she watched it nosedive to where she knew the compound was.

  CHAPTER 8

  Dean changed and took off. On four feet, she reached speeds that made the woods blur in the corners of her vision. Despite that, there was no chance she could cover the distance before the weapon made impact.

  The shock wave, coupled with the explosive sound, caused her to stumble and she lost precious time scrambling up a hill. Taken together, it couldn't have been more than an hour before she made it back to the compound, but it felt like a lifetime before she reached the gate.

  The stone walls had fallen and everything inside burned.

  She moved slowly through the wreckage, her ears flat against her skull, a constant whine emanating from her throat. Bodies were everywhere, but Dean forced herself not to look too closely at them. If she did, she would recognize them and that would make her break down altogether. She couldn't afford to do that, not until she reached her house.

  It was on fire like the rest of them. Dean whimpered as she circled it. The roof had collapsed and the house looked like a child had cobbled together a bunch of debris to a make a hill. If there was anyone inside, she couldn't tell.

  Her Warrior training said she should leave. The enemy could still be nearby and she was vulnerable here, out in the open. She needed to run, regroup, and evaluate the threat. That reasoning was blown apart by her burning desire to find her family. They were dead, she could feel it, but her feet might as well have been rooted to the ground, because she couldn't think about leaving until she had found the bodies. With a thought, she reversed the change to the half-form and began to dig.

  She was halfway through the pile when she heard a sound, something between a howl and a roar, followed by inhuman shrieks. Survivors! The thought catapulted her out of her stasis and she took off, running for the source.

  She followed it to the Training Field. In the center, two blood wolves in their half-form stood against a group of monsters; hairless apes with grayish-pink skin pulled tightly over their frames, glowing red eyes, and long, curved talons where fingers should have been. Dean didn't recognize what they were, but she didn't have the time to watch and examine. The monsters were attacking viciously; jumping onto the wolves back, throwing themselves at their fronts, and nipping any exposed area in-between. The two wolves were doing their best to hold them off, but it was only a matter of time before they were over run.

  Dean attacked them from behind, her claws going through the small attackers with the ease of a hot knife cutting butter. The creatures noticed her fairly quickly, but their reaction surprised her. Instead of focusing on the larger threat, or even running away, the vicious animals launched themselves at their targets, prioritizing the death of their victims over their own survival.

  The wolves fell to the ground underneath the onslaught and Dean launched herself at them, desperately pulling the monsters away. When she'd finally cleared them all, her fur was soaked with blood and her chest was heaving under her labored breathing. One of the wolves was gone. One of the ape-like creatures still had its jaw wrapped over her pack member's throat, a mixture of their blood oozing into a fast growing puddle beneath them. The second was holding on by a thread, wheezing out shallow breaths. Dean gently sat him up, changing back to human form. "Easy, wolf. Easy. You're alright. You're going to be alright."

  The form beneath her shuddered. A moment later, Lucien lay in her arms. His face was covered in gashes and there was a gaping hole in his chest, where something had pierced and then been removed, but his eyes were alert as he fixated on her face. "Dean," he whispered.

  "Shhh. Please don't speak alpha." And she realized he was still her alpha. Her anger with him was gone, washed away by her worry. "Save your strength. We need to get out of here."

  "No. I'm...dying. You...have to...kill me."

  "What? Nononono." She shook her head viciously. "I'm not going to kill you! Why would you say something like that?"

  "You-" His words were interrupted by a violent coughing, but he pushed her hand away when she tried to help him. "Must! Our magic...the only way...a dominant...must kill...the old. Only way!"

  "Alpha-"

  "More survivors...ran away..."

  "Uncle-"

  "Must...find our pack...bring them back together..."

  "I can't!" Tears burned her eyes and poured down her face in hot trails. "I can't! I can't!"

  "WARRIOR!" He grabbed her by the collar and yanked her down so their noses were less than a centimeter apart. "As your alpha, this is the last command I will ever give you. Kill me and take the power to save our race!"

  Sobbing, she raised her hand, calling on her wolf. Her fingers stretched into claws and she positioned them over his throat. "...Understood."

  Lucien's hold relaxed as his body shook with another coughing fit. "I'm sorry...I love you...I believe in you."

  Dean couldn't respond through the tightness in her throat. She raised her hand but, when she went to bring it down, her muscles froze. It was his eyes. They were weak, resigned. The sight of her uncle, constant as the sun in her life, so broken, combined with the ruins of her home....it was too much. Just too much. It was a nightmare. It had to be and she squeezed her eyes shut against it, begging to wake up.

  "Alpha."

  Dean opened her eyes and met Lucien's. "What did you call-"

  "Alpha," he repeated slower, straining over the syllable. He looked into her eyes and she turned away to escape the raw emotion she saw there. A single word shouldn't be so heavy. If she accepted his words, her actions now determined the fate of her entire race. What she needed to do was clear, but personal emotions held her back.

  Her ironic that she could go from hating a man to understanding him so completely in the span of a day. How he must have struggled over decisions. Now, she understood the pain he'd wanted to avoid by sending her away. And because she understood it, she wouldn't allow herself to make the same mistakes.

  The responsibility of every life she might save weighed on her shoulders. For them, she needed to be strong. The fear came second. Doubts came second. Even her shattering heart came second.

  Moving fast to spare herself moments of endlessly analyzing her actions, Dean brought her hand down on his jugular. She dug her claws in until she felt the points pierce the opposite side of his neck before pulling back sharply, tearing away most of the flesh. Lucien heaved one more shuddering breath before his body stilled, his eyes dimming as the life left them.

  She dropped his body and got to her feet. Something warm welled from her heels and moved upwards. It was similar to the feeling she got when she changed, but it wasn't meant for her. She could feel it reaching toward her wolf, twisting it into something different.

  Dean wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry, but she forced herself to move. There was no time to mourn. Somewhere, the rest of her pack was waiting for her and she had to reach them before the monsters did.

  CHAPTER 9

  Two years later

  Morgan Lake was sound asleep when the station phoned him. It took three tries for him to finally wake up and a fourth ring to convince him to get out of bed. He grumbled irritably to himself as he sleepily pulled on yesterday's suit and drove to the body that was waiting for him but, as the distinctive smell of chang
er caught his nose, he sent a thank you to the gods that his captain had put him on call for the week.

  Sweat beaded across his forehead as he watched the human forensic techs crawl over the alley, bagging and sampling everything they came into contact with. So far, a difference between the human and changer physiology hadn't been discovered and their magic didn't leave behind any traces that could be discovered by a machine. It still made him nervous. Every supernatural race feared the day humans, who outnumbered them a thousand to one, re-discovered their existence. Spears or swords were manageable, but guns and missiles? It would be a massacre.

  With an effort, he pushed downed his unease and went to stand over the bodies. Three males, a little under thirty he'd say by the look of them, but with changers, you could never tell. They had young faces and anyone who didn't know what they were would say they looked like high school students. He could tell his partner definitely thought so from the disgusted look on her face. "Morning Kate."

  Katherine Meadow, his partner for the last three years stood up, shaking her head. He knew she must have been woken up like he was but, unlike him, she looked put together. No matter what absurd time their captain called them in or how many hours they worked, she always had every blonde hair in place. Morgan actually respected her for it. Not that he would say so to her face. The last cop who'd called her "pretty" had gotten punched in the mouth. "Look at this Lake. Dogs, do you think? Really, really, hungry dogs?"

  Morgan grimaced. Whatever had taken these rogues out had very big claws. Their faces were unrecognizable and chunks had been gouged out, strewn about like the cotton of a damaged toy. A changer? Low chance of a wolf, so it most likely wasn't one of the pack. That was one weight off his back. That took it into the realm of a cat or maybe something more exotic like a bear. Gods forbid it was a vampire. The headache that would cause made him think about early retirement. "I guess. What else could it be?"

  "I'll call the local zoo and asked if one of their tigers escaped." With a sigh, she turned away from the bodies, stopping when she noticed Morgan hadn't followed. "You coming?"