Paranormal Division: Awakening

by Ellie J Duck

  I shriek at the feel of fangs sawing into my skin and doing even more damage.

  Biting down on me, the wolf begins to fling its head and me from side to side, ripping into me viciously. Dragging out a gun from the waistband of my shorts I press the barrel against its ribcage and empty the entire magazine into the wolf’s heart, sighing in relief when it falls down dead. Of course, it lands on top of me, winding me and crushing me with its weight, but it’s better than the alternative.

  I am almost blind with pain and vaguely I realize that in addition to biting me, the beast has clawed me in several places, slashing at my bare legs and tearing holes in my shirt over my stomach.

  As I shove the beast off me, assessing the damage, I am dimly aware of Hilton still battling with the other wolf. He looks to be doing okay, so I take the moment to peer around in the dark of the compound, squinting and trying to see the remaining beasts that have travelled here to kill me. Vaguely I recall Hilton saying there was another cat and a bear still getting around somewhere and I shudder at the idea of running into either. My strength is fading fast with the blood leaking from my many wounds and the cold of the night saps even more of my strength. I can tell from the way I’ve begun to itch that the healing process has already begun, and I regret not eating more during the day, feeling the amount of energy required to heal such grievous wounds rapidly depleting my strength.

  “Damn it, Hilton, move!” I command as I haul my rifle off my back, wincing at the way it scrapes over my shoulder. Securing the butt of the gun against my good shoulder, I line up the barrel, using the scope to glare at the wolf fighting with Hilton. Tobias glances at me and leaps aside seconds before I pull the trigger. The gun has a bigger caliber bullet than my own rifle and the kick of it throws me off balance. The wolf I’ve shot splatters into several pieces on impact, some of it hitting Hilton, which kind of makes me laugh since it’s so utterly ridiculous and unexpected.

  “What’s in this thing?” I ask of him, eyeing the gun. “Hollow points?”

  When he nods his big wolf head I start to laugh again, unable to contain it. I suspect delirium is setting in at the amount of pain coursing through my body and the idea that so many Shifters, none of whom I’ve ever met before in my life, want to murder me simply for being Anna Cane: human, assassin, and daughter of Magnus Cane. I am still chuckling about it when I spot a big Siberian tiger racing across the grass toward Hilton, having just skidded through the gate to his cage. I lift the rifle, noticing the way Hilton ducks and spins toward the threat and I curse when the tiger is blown back momentarily when I miss the kill shot due to his speed, and instead, hit his left flank.

  He snarls furiously and makes to leap at me but Hilton intercepts him, tackling him out of the air in a snarling heap, his powerful jaws wrapping around the enemy’s jugular and shaking viciously even before they hit the ground with a thump. I lift the gun again, focusing, trying to get a chance to blow this bastard’s head off. The battle is ugly, and Hilton is far more evenly matched this time than he was with the others. In fact, he’s losing. That much is clear when the cat wraps its powerful front legs around him and flips them both, back legs coming up to rake lethal claws against Hilton’s exposed underbelly.

  The yelp that comes from him tears at a part of me I didn’t know I had, and an empowering and vicious rage overcomes me. Dropping the rifle, I pull out one of the many other guns tucked away on my person and I stride across the clearing to the fighting pair. I empty the magazine into the white tiger, feeling an evil smile curl across my face as I purposely shoot the beast, not in places designed to kill but simply to grievously wound. The sound of sizzling flesh fills the air even over the yowling and snarling of the scuffling pair on the ground. When my gun is empty, I drop it and pull out two more, emptying both into the tiger as well, pausing when Hilton goes for its jugular again.

  He tears it out with a wet gurgle, and before I can control the urge, I take out my dagger and I bring it down as hard as my weakening body allows, feeling it crack through the cat’s already damaged skull to sink into its brain, ending all movement and severing any chance of the bastard healing and getting back up.

  “Are you alright?” I ask Hilton when I see the way he stumbles before wincing as he sits, lifting one front paw and exposing a rapidly healing but still bleeding set of gouges on his belly. They look painful, and he snarls in what I suspect is a combination of annoyance and pain. I take that to be his response and despite the urge to go to him and try and help him, I stay where I am a few yards away, looking at him and making sure he’s still in control. It seems tedious for a moment or two before he lifts his copper eyes to my face. His expression asks if I’m okay even as he flashes me the wolf equivalent of a frown when he sees the amount of blood that has seeped from my shoulder and down my torso to soak into my silk shorts, which are torn. There are gouges on my stomach and my legs, and my clothes are covered in blood and dirt from scuffling on the ground with the wolf.

  “I’ll be okay,” I wave his concern away despite the light-headedness threatening to engulf me and carry me into unconsciousness. He takes what looks like a painful step toward me and I frown before realizing he’s not doing it simply to check on me.

  Of course, I realize that too late when I see a pair of huge, furred grizzly bear arms wrap around me.

  “Fuck!” I curse, closing my eyes, not even needing to feel what the bear is going to do to me before knowing what it is and how much it’s going to hurt.

  The bear hug crushes the wind out of me and then squeezes tighter. I scream, though the sound is abruptly cut off when the bastard squeezes harder and several ribs crack. All I know is pain and for a moment I black out, suspecting I have punctured lungs and possibly crushed vertebrae. The bear drops me just as quickly, before coming after me with wickedly sharp four-inch claws that tear at my flesh. I’m too broken from the hug to put up a fight, and my left arm no longer has any movement; I can’t even lift it to protect myself.

  With my right arm as my only defense, I try to fend off the attack futilely, sacrificing more blood and flesh to the scuffle. I am beyond feeling the pain as pieces of my flesh are torn clean off the bone. When the bear lunges in for the bite I tuck myself with the last of my strength, protecting my throat with my chin and screaming as sharp teeth bite into the back of my neck, snagging on the jagged, shredded flesh of my left shoulder and damaging it even more.

  Hilton’s snarl of fury is feral and when he tears the bear away from me, I am hardly able to lift my head to see that he’s gone full werewolf. Not just Lycan, but werewolf. Where before he looked simply like a very large wolf, now he is terrifying. His entire body bulges with muscle, his fur bristling and standing on end. When I catch a glimpse of his eyes, they are no longer copper, orange or lupine gold, but a burning, glowing red that makes my hair stand on end.

  I can barely move, the pain and all the broken bones are so intense, but slowly, carefully, agonizingly, I crawl toward the fighting animals. Hilton is ripping into the bear with a vengeance, but the bear is bigger and stronger, simply due to sheer size. As I crawl, I fish one of the grenades out of my bra, clutching it in my fist while crawling closer.

  The bear is more interested in getting back to me, trying to kill me, than simply in battling with the raging werewolf. For the first time, that fact works in my favor, because the big bastard comes barreling toward me as I painstakingly claw my way up until I’m on my knees. Just as he is within reach, lunging for my throat, mouth agape and ready to rip me to shreds, I pull the pin out of the grenade and lift my arm directly into the path of its gaping maw.

  If I wasn’t in so much pain, I’d be totally grossed out by the feel of my fist jamming halfway down the bear’s throat. More of my flesh and blood is sacrificed to its fangs, but I release the grenade inside it, deep enough in its throat that it can’t simply be pulled back out. Jerking my arm free, I glare into the bear’s wide-eyed face.

  “Grenade, motherfucker!” I snarl.


  Despite going full werewolf, Hilton must be able to process what I’m saying because he suddenly stops tugging at one of the bear’s paws and bounds toward me, his muzzle wrapping none too gently around my good right shoulder and trying to drag me away. The bear only has time to swing one of those huge claws at my face, slapping me, before I am dragged clear by Tobias and the grenade detonates, splattering bits of bear all over the clearing. The last thing I see is the sight of Hilton’s glowing red eyes looming above me, blocking the sight of the almost-full moon. I squeeze one of the paws in my reach and manage a bloodied smile before I drift into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ANNA!” I dimly hear my name being called. I am drifting in a world of pain, floating in and out of consciousness with no grasp of my surroundings.

  “ANNA! No!” A voice screams again, calling my name and I try to turn my head toward the sound, trying to respond to the anguish in that voice. Vaguely I’m aware that there are many things wrong with me, and even opening my eyes feels like a struggle I won’t survive. I blink unseeingly for a few moments against the light of the morning sun before I spot something in the distance. I must squint to make it out, but after what feels like an eternity, I recognize the soccer-dad features of Agent Greg Summers, clutching his hands against the wire mesh of a fence. Blinking, I try to understand why he sounds so anguished, and why he’s not helping me when I feel moments from death.

  I open my mouth, trying to say something, but no noise comes out and pain engulfs me once more. Vaguely the events of the night come back to me and I wonder if Greg and the rest of the team have returned.

  “No!” he shouts again, his fist pounding against the fence. Something snarls in response and I blink again as a large wolf comes into my line of sight. There is no humanity in its gold eyes when it sniffs at me, but an overwhelming sense of recognition sweeps through me as I stare back at the wolf. I feel an overpowering connection on a psychological and emotional level, as though there is a link between us that bridges the current species gap. His muzzle hangs in my face and vaguely, despite the lack of humanity in Tobias's eyes, I lift my mangled arm toward him, reaching for him. It feels leaden and heavy, as though it's stiff with cold and pain. When it comes into my line of vision, I see that it is healing slowly, the torn flesh pulling together and leaving shiny pink scar-tissue in its wake.

  "Anna, no! Don't do it!" Greg shouts, shaking the fence in frustrated desperation. Dimly I recall that in this form, Hilton's not in charge or even a co-pilot inside the huge canine peering at me warily. Not with the moon full. He's all animal and there is no rationality or inclination not to attack inside him.

  Despite the danger, I am completely overcome by the urge to reach out and touch the wolf staring at me. His lips twitch as though he's thinking of pulling them back and baring his fangs at me, but he resists the urge.

  "Tobias..." I whisper, my voice cracking and hoarse, alerting me to the pain engulfing me once more. The wolf blinks at me when I say his name and doesn't shy away or attack me as I lift my hand to his fur covered cheek. A jolt runs through him as I brush my hands over the blood encrusted fur and he shudders violently.

  "Help... me," I manage, my vision swimming with delirium and making me think I must be close to losing consciousness once more.

  I blink in confusion when a low whine comes from the wolf before me and from across the enclosure I'm stuck in, I hear Greg suck in a gasp of uncharacteristic surprise. Slowly, as though waking from a deep sleep, the wolf before me blinks again, his eyes changing from lupine gold to the familiar copper I like so much.

  "Hey, Hilton," I murmur in recognition, wondering vaguely if there is some unprecedented reason that I have been able to awaken the humanity within him despite the looming full moon. The shock in his eyes at what I've done flashes before scanning my prone form where I am sprawled on the grass, probably covered in blood and wounds. I suspect I have several broken ribs, and possibly a broken back from the bear hug I received last night.

  "Need your help," I mutter to him when he nudges at my hand insistently, clearly not trusting that he'll be able to hang onto his humanity for long, "Can't stand... ribs cracked.... feels like my arm's been torn off.... But I need to get out of here before you wolf out again."

  Hilton nods, stepping closer to me and causing Greg a considerable amount of stress over at the fence-line even as he scans his retina against the lock to override it and open the gate.

  "Don't run, Summers," I warn him when Hilton glances at him and bares his teeth, his eyes brightening to orange again. "Tobias, can you get me to my feet?"

  He nods affirmatively before he walks around me toward my head and bites down as gently as he seems able on my right shoulder. Of the two, it hurts the least, but the feel of his sharp fangs tugging on the abused flesh still causes me more pain than I can handle, and I whimper pitifully as he tugs me upward, pressing his body forwards against my back until I am sitting up, leaning against his chest. Summers reaches us as I blink dizzily.

  "What have you done?" he breathes, though I have no idea if he's talking to me or to Hilton.

  "Got myself mauled," I tell him, deciding he must be talking to me since I'm the only one capable of answering right now. My breathing labors as the new position puts pressure on my damaged body and I wince when Summers very lightly brushes his hand over the wound on my left shoulder.

  "Did you do this?" Summers asks, and he is looking very pointedly at Hilton.

  "It was the tiger inside the base," I answer on Hilton's behalf. "And then Tobias, and then another wolf, and then that goddamn bear, and then maybe Tobias again.... I need your help to stand."

  "What happened to you? The minute I got back, I shoved the kids in their cages and came looking for you two. There’s blood and bodies littering the base."

  "That damned bear grabbed me and hugged me," I wheeze when he tries to take both my hands and pull me to my feet, causing me to black out for several seconds before slumping back against Hilton once more. He's trying to be gentle, I can tell, and no doubt doing what any wolf does when it finds something injured, but the licking is not helping me keep my sanity.

  "You got mauled by a bear?" Greg asks, his brow furrowing.

  "And a tiger. And a wolf. But we killed all those fuckers!" I say, trying for some optimism by lifting my hand toward

  Hilton and hoping for a high five.

  "She's delirious," Greg says to Hilton, who is making a strange sound that I suspect might be the canine equivalent of laughter at my ramblings. "How long has she been like this?"

  "It was still dark when I blew that stupid bear to smithereens," I tell Summers.

  "You blew someone up?" Summers asks, looking horrified now.

  "The jerk nearly killed me and Hilton. I had to do something," I tell him with a shrug, regretting it immediately when pain washes over me again.

  "Let's get you out of here," Summers suggests, waving at Hilton to help get me on my feet. "You need food, disinfectant, and sleep."

  "And a shower," I point out helpfully since I’m caked with dried blood and a few hunks of bear. "But you can't take me inside the base."

  "Why not?" Summers asks, frowning now even as he scoops me up, cradling me like a baby when trying to stand results in me falling on Hilton.

  "Been bitten..." I manage through gritted teeth as the pain batters at me again. "Full moon."

  "You're not going to transform after being bitten by Shifters in animal form, Anna," Greg tells me, his voice patronizing.

  I glance down at Hilton who peers back at me. When I raise my eyebrows questioningly, silently asking him if I'm going to turn after having been bitten by several different Shifters whilst suffering the effects of him biting me as a human, he jumps up at Summers.

  "Tobias, what are you doing? She's hurt enough without you pawing at her," Greg scolds him and I can't help but laugh at the way he says it as though Hilton is a puppy rather than a grown man.

  Hilton ignores Gre
g's words and nudges his nose under the strap of my black tank top, revealing the bite marks on my right shoulder.

  "What are you trying to show me?" Summers asks, growing frustrated in a hurry.

  "The scars," I mutter, practically out of my head now. "Under the bruising and the fresh canine bites.... he bit me as a human, too."

  Summers clutches me a little tighter at that and jostles me slightly so he can get a better look at my shoulder.

  "Ah, shit...." he curses when he finds the scars beneath the fresh wounds on my skin "Now we're all officially fucked. Magnus is going to rip us to shreds."

  I snigger at the idea in my delusional state, knowing I'm moments from blacking out.

  "What am I going to become?" I ask, still snickering to myself at the idea of my father coming here to hurt them all for making me like them. And like him.

  "What do you mean?" Greg frowns at me.

  "I've been bitten by all of them. The tiger and the bear and a few different wolves. So, what happens to me now?" I ask him before drooping even more, the exhaustion threatening to consume me. The last thing I hear before I drop back into unconsciousness is Greg saying;

  "Hilton, I'm going to skin you!"

  About the Author

  Ellie J Duck was born and raised in rural Australia where there wasn’t a whole lot to do besides read. When the books that took her fancy ran out, she had no choice but to pick up her laptop and start pecking away at the keys to create her own. At the ripe old age of fifteen she painstakingly typed out a first draft – that will never see the light of day because there isn’t enough eye-bleach to cure anyone misfortunate enough to read it. After some well-deserved teasing from her brother on the matter, Ellie spent the following eleven years honing her craft under the supportive cheerleading of her Mum, the “you can do its” of her Dad, the endless teasing of her partner, and with the assistance of a few hundred thousand rabid fanfiction readers. Living in Brisbane with her partner and her two cats, Ellie spends her free time writing, arguing with the cats about how much food per day is actually appropriate, and avoiding social functions that require shoes. PARANORMAL DIVISION: AWAKENING is her debut novel.