Authors: Dean Murray
There
was another crash, this time from the direction of Andrew's room, and
Wyatt and Carson transformed in a roar of power as they stepped
between Andrew and whatever was in his room. A second later Grayson
appeared out of the room, but my momentary relief at seeing him was
quickly soured by the expression on his face.
"We
need to move. I heard two of them coming around the corner of the
house just before I ducked into Andrew's room."
I
grabbed the back of Andrew's wheelchair and started pushing him back
the way we'd just come. Carson slipped by me and took point as Wyatt
and Grayson caught up to us. Before we'd even made it all of the way
through the next open space, another crash sounded behind us and
Grayson swore.
"Keep
moving, I'll try to delay it."
I
pushed harder, trying to squeeze a little more speed out of my tired
body, but Andrew's chair wasn't really built for speed and my
two-legged form wasn't much better. We dodged around an artfully laid
out loveseat and couch and then I heard the one sound that was
guaranteed to make our escape impossible.
There
was another crash, this one coming from ahead of us, and then I heard
the heavy footprints of another werewolf stalking back towards us as
its dark, earthy scent preceded it. Grayson swore again and then I
heard him pushing Wyatt ahead of him.
"It's
the one I smelled a couple of seconds ago. Puppeteer is controlling
them, maybe not completely, but enough to trap us."
Carson
didn't say anything, he just grunted and charged the werewolf ahead
of us. It was a long shot, but I figured that if I could help Carson
keep the werewolf occupied that there was a chance that Andrew could
slip past it.
I
abandoned Andrew's chair and jumped forward, letting a transformation
explode out of me while I was still in midair without bothering to
strip out of my clothes first. I hit the ground with all four feet
underneath me, and sprang towards Carson, hoping the whole time that
I'd get there in time.
Before
that instant I would have said that there wasn't any single hybrid
who could stand up to a werewolf, even a small one, and live. Seeing
Carson in action I suddenly realized that, while he wasn't quite the
werewolf's match, he was closer than I ever would have believed was
possible.
Carson
moved forward in jerky fits and starts, slashing the werewolf's arms
before ducking backwards to avoid its ripostes. It wasn't until I was
mid-leap that I realized that there was a method to his retreats.
He'd always backed away to the left, which meant he'd gradually
turned the werewolf around, which was the only reason that I had even
a tiny chance of landing my current lunge towards the werewolf's
flank.
The
werewolf whirled around, almost faster than I could follow, but I
managed to get a piece of its left arm. Its right arm came around in
a blur to scrape me off, but Carson stepped in closer and sank his
claws into its arm. It wasn't a disabling attack, in fact it barely
even slowed the werewolf down, but that fraction of a second was all
I needed to relax my jaws slightly so that the werewolf's own spin
knocked me free, but not before I'd ripped a healthy chunk of flesh
out of its triceps.
Despite
the failing lights, I caught a flash of the other fight as I sailed
through the air, and it didn't look good. The other vacuum had both
Wyatt and Grayson on the defensive and while it was bleeding from a
couple of pretty good slashes, both of them were bleeding even more
profusely.
I
hit the wall hard enough that I saw stars, but I managed to land
right side up and I spun around just in time to see Carson take a
wicked blow to the right side of his chest. My follow-up spring
bought Carson enough time to dart back out of range, but it was
obvious to me that we didn't have much longer.
I
didn't manage to put teeth on the werewolf this time, and it raked a
claw along my side as I tried to evade its follow-up attack. Carson
attacked again, this time ducking under a swipe and then lunging
forward, sinking his talons into the werewolf's legs. Carson scaled
the werewolf, climbing up it like some kind of massive, moving tree,
but he'd mistimed his initial move and he didn't make it far enough
around. Werewolves had the same weakness to attacks from behind that
hybrids had, but Carson was far enough out of position that the
werewolf was able to connect with its elbow as it threw itself back
into one of the large marble columns that helped support the vaulted
ceiling.
I
heard Carson's ribs break from more than a dozen feet away. He lost
his hold on the werewolf and dropped to the ground as I tried to get
in and latch onto something vital for the third time.
Carson
yelled out in pain as I managed to tear another chunk of muscle out
of the back of the werewolf's left leg. Carson rolled back to his
feet, but there was a hitch to his movements that told me some of the
ribs had separated and were digging into his lungs. The werewolf's
backfist was more fist than claws, but it still sent me tumbling head
over paws into a couch that was nearly destroyed in the process.
Carson
didn't instantly dart in for another exchange and the werewolf seemed
happy to catch its breath as well. As I pulled myself back to my feet
I noticed a stabbing pain every time I breathed. None of us had made
it through the last minute or so unscathed, but the werewolf was
winning by points. It was just too massive and tough. It would kill
us long before we'd manage to wear it down enough to create the kind
of opening we'd need to end the fight.
Carson
circled slightly and the werewolf honored the greater threat he
represented by turning slightly so that it still faced him, but I
knew it didn't really matter. Our opponent was just too fast for me
to get inside its defenses.
Carson's
expression changed slightly, his broad face settled into something
that I thought was calm, but I wasn't sure. It was so rare to see a
hybrid in a state of peace that I could have been mistaken, but a
second later Carson threw himself at the werewolf in an explosion of
violence that brought it down onto one knee. He hit the leg I'd
injured earlier with both sets of talons, and then grabbed onto its
left arm with his claws and fangs.
It
was the perfect setup for me and I took it with reflexes that I'd
finally buckled down and spent the last two months rewiring. I sailed
through the air in what felt like slow motion, expecting the whole
time that the werewolf would shrug Carson off and then rip me out of
the air, but it didn't happen. Carson kept hold of the werewolf
despite the claws that were turning his chest into gruesome ribbons.
A
split second later my jaws latched onto the werewolf's neck and I hit
hard enough and at just the right angle to snap its neck.
It
was unprecedented, and I felt a flush of pride wash through me right
up until I realized that Carson wasn't pulling himself back to his
feet. I heard a scream of rage and loss and then turned just in time
to see Wyatt throw himself at the second werewolf.
It
was almost like Grayson was anticipating Wyatt's suicidal attack. The
massive hybrid stepped in, taking a nasty set of slashes across his
shoulder as he sank his claws into the werewolf's throat.
A
second later the werewolf was collapsing in a spray of blood and
Grayson was dragging Wyatt back out of range of its death throes.
Andrew was next to me, somehow having managed not to be taken out by
the flying debris.
"Check
on Carson, I'll keep moving forward while you guys triage."
I
stumbled over to Carson, melting back into my normal form as I went.
Carson had abandoned his hybrid shape as well, a reflexive,
last-ditch attempt by his body to heal the damage and keep him alive,
but I could tell even without checking his pulse that he wasn't going
to make it.
His
face was still calm, but he pulled me down to my knees with
surprising strength so that he could whisper into my ear.
"You
have to keep Wyatt alive. Everything depends on it now. Be patient
with him, eventually he'll tell you the truth, he's too good of a man
to do otherwise."
I
watched the light go out of Carson's eyes and then stumbled back to
my feet, wading through wreckage and blood motivated only by the hope
that Wyatt's injuries weren't likewise fatal.
'Ash' Hunt
Graves Estate
Sanctuary, Utah
The various lights scattered about the estate, some working, some not,
gave the landscape an unearthly feel. The lights that were still
working flickered occasionally, sometimes because of a nearby
werewolf, sometimes just because of the sheer damage that had been
done to the manor house.
A
dull red glow gave lie to the idea that portions of the house might
be saved still. We didn't have the manpower to fight a fire, not
while we still had to worry about an attack from the Coun'hij at any
moment. Firefighters were out of the question as well. Alec had gone
silent just after the attack started, but I knew he wouldn't want to
expose any more innocents to harm than we absolutely had to.
There
weren't many people who would be able to watch thousands of years of
history go up in flames, taking with them the multimillion-dollar
structure that had housed them, and not feel compelled to do
something to save it all, but for Alec money really had been...was...just
a tool.
I
saw hulking figures approaching through the near darkness and I
flipped the selector on my rifle to full-auto. It was probably Isaac
and the others that I'd sent back into the house for survivors, but I
couldn't be sure, not at this range, not with the breeze blowing
their direction. Besides, if Alec wasn't with them, then my authority
was going to evaporate like so much smoke.
I'd
have given responsibility for this mess over to someone else in a
heartbeat if I'd thought that they had a prayer of getting us all out
alive, but the pack leaders were either missing or injured and the
rest of the survivors weren't likely to do any better than me when it
came to keeping everyone in one piece.
If
I had to shoot Isaac to keep everyone else in line then I'd do it and
deal with the consequences and regret later.
Less
than a minute later the figures had gotten close enough to confirm
that it was Isaac and the others and I relaxed slightly. Every one of
them was bloodied and obviously exhausted, but he hadn't lost anyone
and it looked like they'd found some survivors. I waited until they
were close enough that we stood a chance of not being overheard
before I spoke.
"Report."
Isaac
gave me a surly look, but he gestured back at the main structure of
the house. "There isn't anyone else alive back there. We ran
into one more werewolf in there. I think that Puppeteer forgot about
it or was busy with other stuff because it was just destroying the
house randomly rather than actively hunting for survivors."
"You
guys put it down?"
"Yeah,
but it was a close thing."
"Who'd
you find?"
Brutus
and Arnold had reached us now, but the extent of the injuries to the
two forms they were carrying made it hard to say for sure who they'd
dragged out of the building just moments before the fire would have
consumed them.
"Rex
and Jane."
Arnold
shook his head as he cradled the smaller figure in his arms. "Jane
didn't make it, she died five minutes ago, but I couldn't bear to
just leave her in there."
Jane
was just one casualty among many, but I still swayed slightly on my
feet. She'd never even had a chance. Most of the dead were
submissives or noncombatants who hadn't managed to find help before
the werewolves had found them. It was too easy to see myself or
Kristin in the bodies that were lined up on one side of the driveway.
I
forced myself to concentrate on the living and turned to Brutus.
"Donovan and Mallory are still working on the injured. Please
take Rex into the garage and help Donovan. Hopefully you guys found
him in time."
Isaac
waited until Brutus and Arnold left and then stepped into my personal
space, his voice low and menacing. "Alec hasn't shown up yet,
has he?"
"No,
he hasn't, but that doesn't mean that he's dead."
"Yes,
it does. We looked through the whole damn house and there are bodies
everywhere in there. I don't even know half of the people who died
tonight, but there was no sign of Alec. I held out hope until we made
it to his room. That's where the fire started, but it looked like the
roof collapsed long before the fire started weakening the structure.
My bet is that Puppeteer made sure to take him out at the very start
of the attack."
"That
doesn't make sense. The werewolves clearly hit the section of the
house with Ben in it first. That's clear on the other side of things
from Alec's room."
"Maybe
it was all a giant ruse to concentrate the resistance on that side of
the house so that he could sneak a kill team into Alec's room. All I
know is that Alec isn't here and that means that I don't have to take
orders from you."
I
let the muzzle of my rifle rise slightly as I gave Isaac my best
blank face. "You really want to do this right now? We've got
bodies in the house, more bodies in the garage, and nobody who's
still alive is unwounded. Based on what the lights are doing out
there, we still have werewolves in the area and unless the Coun'hij
has all become a bunch of idiots they have a bunch of their enforcers
en route to mop up whoever the werewolves don't tear through. Do you
really want to rock the boat right now?"
"I'm
dominant to you."
"Yes,
yes, you are. You're not dominant enough though to survive a chest
full of five seven rounds and if that's what it takes to carry out
Alec's order to assemble everyone here and keep them safe then that's
what I'll do, Isaac."