by A J Gala
The smile that crossed Margie’s face was sinister. “Too bad the same won’t be offered to you, hunter!”
Fuck! A trap!
The rustling of the brush was Blythe’s only warning. Instinctually she threw herself forward into a roll, coming up right in front of Margie as a beastly growl and crash hit where she had been standing a heartbeat before.
The gun barrel pressed up under her target’s neck in one, fluid motion. Blythe pushed her victim up onto her good leg, ignoring the cries of agony, and used her as a shield.
“Let her go!” A large, well-framed man with a beard growled at her, standing where she had been only a moment before. His bare, scarred chest rose and fell as it glistened in the rain.
“Well, isn’t this just something out of a twisted fairy tale.” Blythe smirked, shoving the gun harder under Margie’s neck. “A coyote and a bear. Surely that must be frowned upon by the others.”
“Look, lady, let us go, and we will leave. We will just disappear, never to be seen again,” Margie cried out over the lashing rain. “I swear it!”
“If I let you go now, I’ll just have to find you again later and this has already been far more annoying than it should have been.” Fucking rain!
“Last chance, hunter!” The barrel of a man roared at her, his dark eyes and facial features already beginning to contort.
The glint of steel and an arc of crimson flashed through the night. Margie’s cry came out in a sputtering gurgle, her knees giving out as she tried to stop the heavy flow of blood from her throat.
A violent roar tore through the night like a daemon being born into this world, and the man charged, his body changing with impossible speed and control. This was something she had never seen before, not this quickly. The breaking and reforming of bones and sinew, the re-structuring—it fazed him not at all.
The handgun bucked in her hand once, twice, thrice. The half-man-half-bear stumbled but did not stop, its eyes burning with an unmatched hatred bent on tearing her limb from limb. The gun flashed a fourth, fifth, and sixth time in the dark.
The shifter finally slowed to a crawl, dragging its twisted form over to the nearly dead girl’s body. He looked more bear than man now as a clawed hand gripped the girl’s. “Mar…gie…” it groaned painfully, “I… l-l… ove… you…”
With a final fall of its massive chest, the beast collapsed.
In line with the training programmed into her through the years, Blythe reloaded her gun quickly—seven bullets—and scanned the treeline for any more surprises. Finally satisfied this was the end of the night’s adventure, she holstered her revolver and went to the fallen couple.
“Cross-species lovers,” she mused, “strange and interesting.” In her years as a hunter, she had never seen such a thing; heard about it once from an unreliable source but never expected it to be true. Predator animals stayed within their respected species and mated within their packs. Crossing species was something very unusual.
She grinned at the two dead shifters; her bosses would be happy to know she bagged an extra one on top of her given mark.
Trophy time. Something caught her eye about how the two were laying. Margie’s hands covered her small belly, and his massive clawed paw also touched her mid-section. No way. Could it be…?
Flipping the knife in her hand, she knelt beside them. Only one way to find out for sure. The blade sunk in deeply, its razor edge slicing through the flesh like butter. The smell of fresh death and gore assaulted her nose, but she ignored it, too fascinated by the prospect of what she was hoping to find.
Her hands disappeared within the slit, pushing past the entrails and intestines, looking, searching, until…
Blythe’s eyes went wide with excitement. Slowly, she pulled the womb out, cutting it free of its dead host. She fumbled for her flashlight, blood-slick fingers making it hard, but soon light was shining down on the discovery. Two small creatures laid still within the liquid-filled sack, not quite human in looks.
This was going to change everything!
Gently, Blythe placed the trophy into her bag and stood. What a truly wonderful night this had been. It was almost time for a drink, and to contact the Coven. This was news they needed to hear.
But first, to bury the bodies.
Last night had not gone as planned. Declan woke up on a cot in Stephan’s basement, his neck and back stiff as a board. He was not supposed to have fallen asleep. Had only intended to rest for a moment.
“Shit.” He surveyed the room as he got to his feet. Empty bottles of Stephan’s shitty IPA were strewn everywhere, along with cereal boxes, paper plates, and any other random thing that had been in the trash and recycle bins. Declan scratched his head and sighed. The door to a wire kennel was wide open.
Fucking raccoons!
The experiment with the pill had been a debacle. Prompted to shift, Stephan had, in fact, been able to, but it was a slow and agonizing transition with constant stop-and-go changes that left him looking like a mangy, de-aging werewolf with a bandit mask. It wasn’t until after four brutal hours that Stephan was fully formed into his raccoon self.
The simplest solution, of course, was to lock him up in raccoon jail until he started to turn back. Stephan’s love affair with garbage did not end with the basement. The half-eaten pizza had been dragged off the counter and gnawed on. Pizza-sauced animal prints tracked all through the house. Magazines and junk mail were everywhere, a banana peel was artfully arranged on the coffee table, takeout containers had been licked clean and chewed apart.
“Come on man, even I’m not this bad…”
He checked the backyard, but there was no sign of man or raccoon. Not in the front yard, either. Stephan was gone.
Declan ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, don’t panic. Don’t panic. He’s somewhere that makes sense. He’s gotta be. How far can the little-legged bastard have gotten in two hours?”
He gave it another minute’s thought, then grabbed Stephan’s keys and took the Ford out to go searching. The town was only a ten-minute drive from Stephan’s neighborhood, so he didn’t have to go far. Declan pulled into the parking lot of the Emerald Falls gas station where he found his raccoon going toe-to-toe with a crow over a half-flattened blueberry muffin.
Declan killed the engine, jumped out, and slammed the door. “Hey! You! Get the hell over here!”
The raccoon did not want to give up the fight for the muffin. The crow cawed at him and jumped a little before deciding there were better prospects around the back by the dumpster. Delighted, the raccoon lunged for his prize, but Declan swooped him up into his arms.
“Hey fat ass, you ate half a pizza just this morning. Take a break or you’re gonna burst.” He looked up to the large crow staring at them from the top of the dumpster. “Liian, I got this, no need for the others to know this time. Please.” His tone was near begging.
The crow shifted its head, its intelligent eyes locking with his. It cawed twice and flew off.
“Well if I could speak crow, I’d know if that was a good answer or not.” He looked down at his phone case on his belt. “Guess if it rings soon, I’ll know it wasn’t.”
His own stomach was growling, so with Stephan still tucked in his arm, he walked into the mini mart. It was a small town and heads were likely to turn, but Declan was also used to being the resident ‘trailer trash.’ No one would be surprised to see him walk in with a raccoon.
And indeed, no one said a word. The cashier gave him a weird look as he went through the fridges, looking for an energy drink. Stephan wriggled with excitement when Declan went to the hot food and grabbed a breakfast sandwich.
“I thought I told you to settle down, you fat fuck.”
The cashier stared and swallowed hard as Declan came to the checkout. “Is this all for you two?”
He grinned. “Yeah, this will do. A, hell—” he looked out to the pumps, “—put ten on four, too. Might as well.” He slapped some crumpled-up bills on the counter and procured ex
act change from his pockets as if by magic.
Out in the parking lot, he tossed his small, furry friend into the truck and backed up to pump number four.
“Alright, man.” He got out to start pumping gas, then leaned into the passenger side window and reached over the raccoon for his sandwich. “Important question. If we were to head back to your place, could you turn back? Because if you think you’re stuck, we’re gonna have to see some people you don’t wanna see.”
He couldn’t decipher the squeaks and squeals Stephan spoke in, but they sounded panicked.
“Okay, okay. One paw up for I think I can, two paws up for I think I can’t.” He unwrapped the foil and started eating as Stephan raised one paw. And then, gingerly, a second paw. “Alright. Well—” he chewed, “that means we’re making a trip to the alphas.”
The squeaks and squeals went from panicked to vicious and angry. Declan rolled his eyes and sighed.
“If you’re pissed because this is all my fault for making you try the pills in the first place—” the nozzle started thumping as the gas stopped, “—you’re right. That was totally my bad and I’m sorry. I definitely got us into this mess.”
Stephan started banging his paws on the door.
“Hey, should I clean your windshield, too?” Declan put the nozzle back and inspected the beat-up Ford’s coat of dead bugs. Still chowing down on his breakfast, he shrugged. “Fuck it, it’s your truck. You do it.”
He was not happy about visiting the alphas any more than Stephan was, but the second he started to show it was the second Stephan would be able to talk him out of it, even if he could only manage animal noises. He was dreading the confrontation for a much bigger reason. Yes, Stephan was having problems with keeping control of his form, but Declan had never been given the pills.
He had stolen them from a delta’s teenage daughter.
And the only way to explain Stephan’s current predicament involved fessing up. His stomach was in knots as he thought about it, but he said nothing. There were more important matters to worry about than his own crime. Declan drove them through the mountains while Stephan licked the melted cheese from the sandwich wrapper before falling asleep.
Far off in the distance, rain clouds loomed overhead.
Declan pulled the truck up through the long, paved driveway to the three-story colonial home on the far side of Emerald Lake. A bloody mansion was more like it. He was sure if left alone he could easily get lost in the house and it would take him a week to find his way back out.
Fucking alphas.
Several other vehicles crowded up the driveway around the large marble fountain in front of the house. Some he recognized, others he didn’t. The ones he did know belonged to other shifters in the area.
Declan looked down at his raccoon sidekick who was just beginning to awaken. “Looks like we aren’t the only ones with a problem today.”
Two large men walked over to the truck, their eyes suspicious and their muscles tense. One of them Declan knew. He was a bear shifter named Claud. But the other man he hadn’t a clue, though he had the look of a wolf by his movements.
“It’s like they’re expecting trouble. Lovely,” Declan muttered, grabbing his furry baggage and stepping out of the truck. “Morning!”
The man Declan didn’t know sniffed the air and snarled in disgust. “What do you want, rodent? This is a meeting for real pack animals, not vermin.”
Instantly Declan was put sour. The man had a few inches on him, a few pounds, too, but a kick to the nuts would even the odds easily enough. “Maybe try educating yourself, you fucking halfwit. Opossums are part of the Marsupial family and raccoons the Procyonidae. Neither are part of the rodent family. If you spent less time licking your balls and sniffing shit-caked assholes like the dog you are, maybe you’d know that!” Well, that might have been too far to push.
Claud chuckled slightly, his eyes brimming with humor.
The other man’s eyes blazed with sudden anger. He cracked his knuckles and balled his fists. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy making you regret those words, rodent.”
Declan dropped Stephan and set himself for the beating he was either about to give or get. Now that it was happening, he wasn’t as positive as he had originally been.
“Not today, Ben!” Claud ordered sternly, stepping in between the two.
Ben tried to push past him, but Claud was the bigger and had fifty plus pounds on him.
“Outta the fucking way, bear! I’m not about to just stand here and take that fucking smart-mouthed shit from one of his kind!”
“Rift said no fighting, so there is no fighting.”
“I don’t give a fuck what Rift said!” Ben growled, his eyes shifting to his canine-set. “He isn’t my alpha; I don’t take orders from him!”
Stephan’s fur rose across his back and he hissed, eyes burning and teeth bared.
Declan grinned. Good to know you got my back even if you are nothing more than a kick-ball right now.
Claud turned to face the yipping dog. “But he is mine, and this is his territory and so his word is law. What do you think will happen to you if you break an alpha’s law in his own house?”
Ben stepped back and held up his hands in defeat. “You’re right, you’re right.” He looked past the bigger man. “But this isn’t over rat boy, you and I are still going to have our dance one day soon. I promise you that.” With that, he turned and stalked off.
“One like yourself shouldn’t be making enemies so freely,” Claud told him, sternly but with a hint of humor.
Declan shrugged. “So, I am just supposed to take every insult spat at me? Not defend myself? I may have gotten the shit end of the shifter stick, but I still got my pride. I’d rather get my face knocked around from time to time than eat that bowl of shit every time some pack prick wants to put me down. Besides in human form, I’d kick his fucking ass.”
Claud grinned. “Not even on your best day could you win that fight. But it would be funny if you could. I’d certainly like to see that wolf put to the back of the pack where he belongs.”
“Well, either way, thanks for stepping in.”
“Didn’t do it for you; orders are orders. Now, what are you doing here? We got problems of our own right now.”
Declan looked down at Stephan. “Yeah, well, we got a bit of a problem, too. One that sadly only Rift or Matt will be able to help with.”
Claud looked down. “The trash panda still not able to control himself?”
Stephan hissed again.
“Little more complex this time.”
“Follow me, I’ll take you to them.” Claud turned and began leading the way. “No promises they will see you right now, though. Some bad shit going on.”
“Not more hunter problems?”
He nodded. “Found another two, Margie and Ray, dead not far from Margie’s cabin.”
Declan could feel his heart plummet to the ground. One look at Stephan’s beady little eyes told him his friend shared the sentiment. They’d both had a soft spot for Margie. She had been a little skittish and not the easiest person to talk to, but she was kind and generally seen as an outsider as they were.
The coyote shifter wasn’t detested the same way Stephan and Declan were, but the wolves had always had a hard time trusting her.
Finally, Declan found words to say. “That’s terrible. I wish we could help…”
He trailed off and the rest of the walk was silent save for their footsteps on the gravel and the splashing of the fountain. Claud brought them around to the back of the house and up the expansive patio deck. Declan looked out to the evergreens as a harsh gust of wind shook through them.
“Ready?” Claud asked.
Declan gazed down to Stephan, who looked ready to bolt. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with. I know what I’m in for.”
Claud pushed open the sliding glass door and ushered them inside to the dining room and kitchen. The house’s scent was a peculiar mix of wet dog, and a packet of orange and
clove simmering potpourri from the mall. There was no other way to describe it. Declan turned up his nose.
“How ya holding up there, you little asshole?”
Stephan tilted his head and grunted.
The dining room and kitchen were suspiciously empty. Claud stood against the quartz countertop and rubbed his chin.
“I thought at least someone from Rift or Matt’s crew would be around here. Guess they kicked everyone else out and took the discussion to Rift’s office,” he said. “Typically a bad sign when the party gets smaller.”
Declan rolled his eyes. “Maybe without such an audience, they won’t have so much to prove, and they’ll take it easy on me.”
Claud breathed in deep and let it out before shaking his head. “Maybe. Rift’s office is down this way.”
The hallways seemed to never end, and they remained only on the ground floor. Rift, the alpha of the bear shifters in Emerald Falls, had owned the property for fifteen years and was obsessive about keeping it in shape. Often, he employed omegas or the cubs learning how to shift to come and work—trimming the lawn, dusting, scrubbing mildew from the showers, washing floors, whatever loathed chore he could come up with under the guise of “teaching discipline.” Stephan and Declan knew it for what it was. Free labor.
The bear alpha was unlike his kind, however, in that he pushed pack rules onto the bears. Bears in the wild did not form packs and only gathered beyond a mother-and-cubs-style unit if there was a plentiful food source. Packs were canine in nature. Whether Rift—the undeniably stronger shifter—had submitted to Matt’s demand of pack rules or had come up with it on his own, no one could be sure. Rift’s love of rules, order, cleanliness, and compartmentalization agreed well with pack structure, but he was also more mild-tempered against Matt and tended to give in when a disagreement arose.
Stephan and Declan had another theory altogether but stayed quiet about it until the time to rock the packs with a scandal was just right. The way the alphas looked at each other when they thought no one else was looking was just too endearing…