Damned and Cursed (Book 2): Witch's Kurse (51 page)

Jack was proud.
 
The car didn't even swerve.

"I'm sorry, Erica," Jack said quietly.
 
"I tried to do what I thought you might have wanted.
 
But…"
 
He glanced at Charlie.
 
"I just have to scratch that itch."

*****

Sean sat quietly in the back of the van, trying to calm his nerves.
 
Regardless of how many puppies he'd killed, how many hunts he'd led, the first night of a hunt always carried the same emotions.
 
Excitement, dread, anticipation.
 
As he listened to classical music quietly, and the two men he was with checked their weapons, a new emotion crept in.
 
Anger.

He looked at the empty space to his right.
 
His brother was supposed to be sitting there.
 
It was all part of a grander scheme.
 
This day, they'd lead the hunts, fire the weapons.
 
Many days down the road, they would be the ones sending the teams out, running the show.
 
The two brothers, taking care of business.

That day would never come.

Nolan leaned toward him across the van.

"Sean, are you sure you're up for this?
 
We can always get someone else.
 
You can take a few days—"

Sean waved away his concern.
 
"You idiots would fall apart without me."

Nolan smiled and patted him on the shoulder.
 
Sean pulled out his radio.
 
There were three vans parked around Marie Johnson's apartment, on different blocks.
 
They all were in walking distance of the woods.
 
As soon as Marie left her apartment for her run, they'd close in.
 
The team took turns watching her, safely, from a distance, and he needed to check in.

"Taylor, what's the word?"

The radio squawked in return.

"She's still in her apartment.
 
I'm not sure she's heading out tonight, boss.
 
But I did change positions, got a better view of the apartment.
 
She's got nice tits."

Nolan laughed, but Sean frowned as he lowered his head.
 
He rested the radio against his forehead and clenched his eyes shut, holding back tears.
 
Taylor's comments reminded him of something Rob would have said.

"Is that all?" Sean said.

"No.
 
She's packing up.
 
Boxes are all over the place.
 
I don't think she's gonna be in town much longer.
 
It looks like she's actually getting ready to go to sleep."

"Understood."

Sean set the radio down.
 
That changed everything considerably.
 
But, like always, Sean was prepared.
 
Hunts never went by the book.
 
They sometimes had to shift to a second or third plan, other times throwing the plan out the window.
 
The end result was what mattered, which was a dead pack of puppies.

"Okay, guys," Sean said into the radio.
 
"Let's go two-delta.
 
You know the drill.
 
Ten minutes."

The other two vans acknowledged.
 
Nolan stood up and moved to the front.
 
He grabbed three sets of SWAT uniforms and handed them out.
 
They'd been coated in the solution the scientists at the organization created in the labs.
 
It lacked a fitting name, just some long chemistry-class name the scientists gave it.
 
Whatever it was, Sean just called it the goop.

It made hunting werewolves almost entirely unfair.

Sean caught Nolan looking at him with concern.
 
He wasn't sure if he could put up with the looks all night.

"You okay over there, old man?"

"I'm good.
 
Just keeping an eye on you."

"Make sure you keep an eye on the puppy we're about to handle.
 
And don't stop to stare at her tits."
 
He grabbed the radio.
 
"Same shit as always.
 
Detain only.
 
We need to find her pack, and that's easier to do if she can talk.
 
Taylor, give us a count sixty minutes after those lights go out."

"I have to piss," Taylor said.

"Piss in your hand."

Sean went through the process of checking his weapons, for a second time.
 
Pistol, rifle, the blade strapped to his leg.
 
Everything checked out.

The hunt would soon begin.

*****

Marie awoke from her dream with a start.
 
There was a loud crash, very close by.
 
She jumped from the bed, wearing only underwear and a bra, and peered down the hall.
 
Willing the darkness to fade away, the black hall turned a lighter shade, and she could see her apartment.
 
Boxes littered the floor, a sight she wasn't used to.
 
The front door suddenly swung open with force as the battering ram struck it a second time.

She heard the men, their footsteps, their heartbeats.
 
But she couldn't smell them.

The lead man didn't waste any time.
 
He spotted her immediately and raised his rifle.
 
Marie's eyes lit up as she moved the inches needed to avoid the shot.
 
The bullet grazed her arm and lodged in the wall behind her.
 
She fell on her back and kicked the door closed.

"Bedroom!"

That was when they truly opened fire.

She crawled on the floor as the door was destroyed by their firepower.
 
Wood and drywall exploded around her.
 
Her eyes fell on the window behind her bed.
 
Throwing the curtain open, her hand was nearly to the latch when she saw the slight movement in the trees, followed by the red light.

The silver bullet shattered the window and struck her shoulder.
 
She collapsed on the floor, her arm feeling as if it were on fire.
 
That wasn't far from the truth.
 
Her lycanthropy reacted to the silver harshly.
 
The wound instantly blistered and oozed.
 
Even if she wanted to embrace the change, the silver wouldn't let her.

But she didn't need to run on four legs to be dangerous.

She heard voices in the hall, one of which spoke over a radio.

"The target's wounded."

"Good work.
 
Keep the outside covered.
 
Sweeping now."

The bedroom door had more holes than wood.
 
Marie saw shadows moving in the hall.
 
She thought she saw SWAT uniforms before they opened fired, but knew there would be no law enforcement.

Keeping low, she worked her way back to the other side of the room, close to the door.
 
She pulled the lamp off the nightstand and ripped the cord from the wall.
 
Her sense of smell was suddenly useless to her, but her hearing painted the scene in her apartment.
 
Seven, maybe eight men inside.
 
They moved in pairs, spreading out.
 
The closest one was inching toward the ruined door.

Marie carefully got in position.

The door flew open, followed by the man taking a step inside.
 
She lunged forward and slammed the lamp into his head.
 
The helmet and mask protected him, but a shard or two of glass dug into his exposed neck.
 
He stumbled backwards into his partner and pulled the trigger.

She shouted as the shot found her thigh.
 
Falling to her side, the pain quickly overwhelmed her.
 
Two men grabbed her ankles while the one she attacked recovered.
 
They dragged her to the dining room.

"Target's down."

"Get the shackles."

The silver restraints gleamed in the moonlight.
 
Her ears picked up two men outside on the landing, running crowd control, as the humans that lived around her flooded the stairwell.
 
They were going to drag her away, in front of so many humans, to a safe location, where they would beat and torment her.
 
She'd lived through it before.

Marie would not go through that again.

She summoned what strength she had left.
 
Her body throbbed in agony.
 
The silver inside her weakened her.
 
She focused on her hands, tried to make them change.
 
The pressure in her legs was unbearable, as they wanted to break, the first sign of the change.
 
Marie pushed through it, redirecting the pain, staring at her palms.

Two men flipped her on her stomach, to cuff her.
 
One of them reached for her wrist and pinned it behind her back.

She attacked.

Marie spun to her back once again and lashed out, a claw ripping through the uniform of the man closest to her.
 
Her nails found flesh, and finally her nose picked up the scent of blood.
 
He fell back into his partner, and she jumped to her feet.
 
She knew she needed to go forward.
 
Going back into her bedroom was a death sentence.

She struck wildly at anything that moved.
 
The hunters were in close quarters and in unfamiliar territory, which gave her an advantage.
 
They bumped into each other as they tried to get closer.
 
One brandished a knife, and sliced her across the face.
 
Marie spun in pain, her claws landing on a box she'd packed earlier in the day.
 
She gripped the sides and tossed it, striking another hunter in the chest.

Marie took one step in the living room.
 
It almost felt like she was making progress.
 
The hunters were backing up, giving up ground.
 
That feeling didn't last long when one of them pulled out a small pistol and shot her in the shin.
 
She tumbled to one knee; only the boxes around her held her up.
 
The man who shot her stepped forward, clutching a knife, and stabbed her in the shoulder.
 
He knelt in front of her and covered her mouth before she could scream.
 
He pressed the side of the silver blade to her stomach, which was enough to cause her skin to blister.

She didn't have much left in her.
 
Her claws had turned back to hands.
 
The silver was slowly shutting her down, sapping her strength.

"Miss Johnson, or whatever you call yourself.
 
It's over.
 
Be a good little pup, and come with us.
 
Now, people are all outside, but don't worry, they think we're cops.
 
If you make any noise—"
 
He grabbed her forcefully by the cheeks, making her stick out her tongue.
 
"I'll cut this off.
 
Got it?"

Humans.
 
Always so arrogant and full of themselves.

She spotted the box she threw, not far away.
 
It had busted open when it landed.
 
Cooking utensils that Jack would not have liked were just within reach.
 
Perhaps they would have a better use for Marie.

"O-Okay," she said, lowering her head.
 
"Just…no more silver."

He motioned to the man behind him.
 
"Shackles."

Marie waited for him to get closer.
 
She reached out and grabbed the frying pan, slamming it down onto the man's foot.
 
She stuck again, and heard a bone crack.
 
The man with the shackles tried to grab her, but she bit his finger, nearly ripping it off.
 
He managed to lock one around one wrist, which sent fire up her arm.
 
She shoved him back and ran through the living room.

The men were shocked, but she heard them raise their weapons behind her.
 
She jumped through the patio window, only stopping when her stomach hit the railing.
 
They fired as she pitched herself forward.
 
She felt pain in her back and other leg as gravity claimed her.
 
She fell the two stories to the ground.

Marie landed flat on her back.
 
She could smell the woods, calling to her, offering safety.
 
She couldn't breathe as she rolled over and pulled herself up.
 
She saw the red dot moving along the ground, nearly to her.
 
Before the red dot could settle on her, she ran.
 
The woods beckoned.
 
Just a few more feet.

More shots rang out as the hunters fired from her patio.
 
The trees swallowed her, bathing her in darkness.
 
She pressed on, even as her body fought against her.

Marie didn't dare stop.

*****

Sean winced as he limped back into the apartment.
 
He was certain the arch in his foot was broken.
 
Nolan reached out and offered to help, but Sean waved him away.

"I'm okay," he said.
 
He grabbed the radio from his belt.
 
"Pursue.
 
Anyone not injured, pursue.
 
Be careful.
 
She knows the woods better than us.
 
Johnson, stay behind for medical.
 
Taylor, handle the crowd."