Unnaturals

by Dean J. Anderson

  `Wil?'

  `Don't.' Flames still flickered over his skin. `Not now. Just don't touch me.'

  His body was still rigid with anger. Sally drew back. Was he lost to them?

  `Sir,' Max said appearing beside them, covered in blood, face grim. `I'm sorry I let you down.' He looked at Lilly lying sprawled on the asphalt. `I... did not expect this.'

  `Forget it, Max.' Wilson moved, his attention fixed on Pete's back. `Humans, they're just animals. They kill what they don't understand.'

  `Sir?' Max's hands tightened on the assault rifle he held. He glanced at Sally.

  `Keep them away from me, Max,' Wilson said. `Next time I won't hesitate.' He turned to face Sally.

  `Yes, sir.' Max's face was white under the smeared blood. `Understood.' He moved past, signalling to the Fund soldiers with him.

  `Lilly's gone, hasn't she?'

  Sally swallowed and closed her eyes for a second.

  Unsure if she could say the words he didn't want to hear.

  Humanity fled the instant Mason fell through the portal. There were no constraints here. Hunter revelled in the rank touch of Bemeon's world. The god sprawled under him, his eyes locked on his dying sister, her body still impaled on Hunter's wing talon.

  `Darla. Fight. You must live.' Bemeon writhed, trying to squirm from Hunter's grip.

  Teeth grew in Hunter's mouth. He smelt the god's fear. Bemeon was nothing more than prey. And Hunter wanted only one thing.

  To feed.

  Primal instincts screamed deep inside. Mason let all control fade as Hunter completed himself. He was a monster who fed on gods. Hunter's rumble shook the sand and the god beneath him.

  Bemeon stopped moving.

  Hunter relished the feel of the god's eyes on him.

  Bemeon began to change. `You will die for this. I am master here, Hunter.'

  Hunter growled from deep inside. `Wrong. I am.'

  There. What Hunter had been waiting for. That look prey discovers when it sees death. That rush of scents. Panic and fear. Surprise. A sweetness that made their blood rich; the kill addictive.

  `Feed.' Hunter bit down, his oversized jaws encompassing Bemeon's neck. Razor sharp incisors sliced flesh and bone. Blood rich with dark energy poured into his mouth. He drank.

  Bemeon wailed, tearing at Hunter with tentacle and claw.

  Ineffective.

  Hunter felt the god's feeble attempts, but the pain faded quickly. Bemeon was failing.

  `Impossible,' Bemeon gurgled. `I am god—'

  `So is my Hunter,' Darla whispered. `We have made him so.'

  Hunter didn't mind, as long as he could feed. Let the dying gods talk.

  `Sister?' Bemeon had stopped moving. Hunter continued to draw on the god's blood and flesh. He would have it all.

  `You will be become a mere whisper in the darkness, my brother.' Darla spasmed. `A memory to be laughed over.' She coughed blood.

  Hunter tasted a scent sweeter than her brother's. He studied her broken body. Bemeon snarled, sounding stronger. This one he would take later — after he finished the brother.

  He dropped Darla to the sand. It would be better to have all his limbs free, if he wanted to tear Bemeon apart.

  He reached for the god to find he had regained enough strength to scuttle away. Anger. Why? Why would this little god not cease? Hunter roared his disapproval.

  Ancient yellow bone winked, stopping him. The bone called to him, a seductive song. He reached for Bemeon with one hand, the bone with the other. Bemeon wilted under his grip.

  He remembered the bone. It nestled in his palm. Part of an inferior spike he'd — no, Mason — had struck the god with when Bemeon had stolen his body's shape. The spike was not as pure as his own spikes, but it had damaged the god, who had yelped and screamed and thrashed. Yes, he remembered the bone. How it had called to him.

  As did Darla. `Hunter, the broken dagger. Finish it.'

  Dagger? Energy leaked from the bone snug in his palm. Bemeon moved and Hunter drove his fist into flesh and bone. Energy roared into him. The little god screamed.

  His fist came down again, and again energy shuddered into him. And again the little god screamed.

  `Yes!' Delight. The bone stole Bemeon's energy. He drove his fist over and over into the god, roaring as each blow fed him energy. Finally, when the bone stopped feeding him, he stopped beating the motionless god.

  `Look upon the face of death, brother,' Darla wheezed. `Hunter will have you all. To him you are no more than offal.'

  Yes. Offal. Time to feed another hunger. He dropped the now useless bone. A heart lay waiting, deep in Bemeon's chest — Hunter's prize. He ripped the god open and pressed his face to the pulsing heart. `Mine.'

  `All that is his is now yours,' Darla whispered beside him. `Goodbye, brother dear.'

  Hunter raised himself over the body then drove each wing talon into the shifting mass to pin it while he used his hands to rip the carcass into four. He hurled the parts into the darkness, then stopped, savouring the remnants of Bemeon left on his lips.

  Movement in the shadows interrupted his satisfaction.

  `Master.' Figures moved within the thick cloak of darkness. They grew closer. He could feel them wanting him. `Master.'

  Their craving caressed him. He had what they desired. Power. They would give him more of it. They would follow, obedient to his every whim.

  `Remember. Your. Family,' Darla gasped from the sand.

  He glanced at her. And stopped. Caught by her naked form. And his desire. She was a god. Like him, and he wanted her.

  Had she not said he was to be her mate?

  `I'm hurt. Dying. In this place I will die.' She pointed at the portal.

  Hunter frowned. `Why?'

  `Out there, I will heal. Take me back. I will heal. Then we fuck, you understand?'

  `Fuck,' he said. His lips stretched. He wanted that. Blood filled his groin. He had killed and fed. Now the goddess wanted to mate. `Yes.'

  He lifted her, waiting while Darla put her arm around his neck. He kissed her breast, tasting her blood. So sweet.

  `Yes,' she said faintly. `So long since another has held me, my Hunter.'

  `We fuck.' Hunter caressed her legs, scenting her.

  `It's what we made you for.'

  Her hands went limp. Her heart slowed. He frowned. Darla wanted him. To stay here meant she would die. To pass back to the bright world, meant she would live.

  She would live, then. And they would fuck.

  Hunter stepped into the portal.

  `He's back!'

  Sally spun around with Wilson.

  `No,' Wilson muttered. `That's not my father.'

  Sally felt her mouth go dry. Fear she had never felt made her gasp. The dark god she had seen Mason battle on the beach paled compared to what had come back. This Hunter was bigger, more like the god he'd fought. The only difference was, she knew the man buried deep inside. He was passionate and intense. And extremely dangerous. A man the Unnaturals feared. Now he stood as Hunter, godlike, before them.

  `Who is he?' She reached for her pistol, glancing back to see Max standing with his mouth open, rifle hanging loose in his hands. `Wil, you hear me?'

  `Uh-huh.' He half-turned towards her, radiating a dark coldness. `You're gunna ask me what we do next.' She stepped back suddenly afraid. `Fucking nothing. Let's see what happens.'

  Mason held Darla in his arms. Hunter howled inside him.

  The portal?

  Mason turned, recalling images from Bemeon's world. Hunter's memories. Hunter's desires. His groin still ached. Every part of him hummed with energy. This was power unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

  `Goddess!'

  Eleanor staggered towards him, Nikki trailing close behind, while Huntress tore into a creature from Bemeon's dwindling army. He felt as if he'd been gone for only a moment, but a war had raged here. He shook off the nagging voice of Hunter.

  Now was not the time to explore Darla's offer. Not that he, Mas
on, thought there would be a time. He looked back to Huntress and Eleanor as they reached him.

  `Take her.' He rolled Darla into Eleanor's arms. `I have to do something.'

  `She's dead!' Eleanor slumped on the sand, cradling the limp body.

  Mason heard the words from a distance. His arms fascinated him. He was different. Darker. Stronger. Behind him, the portal tugged at every fibre of his being, wanting him back.

  `No,' he spoke aloud, hearing the regret in his voice. He reached out to the energy fluxing in the portal. `Close.'

  The portal went still, sullen under his touch.

  `You killed her!' Eleanor was regaining her energy.

  `Shut up. I'm busy!' he snapped, unconcerned, hearing the portal's painful moan. `Obey.' Ice cracked around its edges. He felt it protest. `I know what you are. You are my servant. Obey!'

  Chunks of ice crashed into the ocean. The portal shimmered, splintering, dragging him in.

  `No! I stay here. You're not needed. Close. Obey!'

  The portal wailed and the energy at its centre vanished, leaving a thin ring of ice to collapse in on itself.

  `What have you done?'

  He turned to face an Eleanor encased in her energy. And indignant.

  `Watch. And learn.' He looked around in the sand. It moved, bulging, shaping a hand carrying Darla's dagger. `Thanks,' he said and took the dagger from Gaia's hand.

  `What are you doing?' Eleanor backed away until she stood protectively over Darla. Mason paused, sorting his thoughts from Hunter's. The goddess had suddenly smelt very desirable. Not a good thing.

  `Do you really want to argue with me now?' He moved towards Darla and Eleanor moved to block him. Mason growled again, impatient. `I won't hurt her.'

  Hands came around his waist. Teeth nipped at his back. `This is different.' Huntress said. `You've become a lot like Bemeon, but sexier.'

  `What?' He looked around for her and realised Huntress now seemed much shorter.

  `You've taken him in, become a Hunter of true darkness.' Huntress slipped around to him, looking up into his eyes, while she pressed her body against him. `To everyone else you look like—' She stopped, looking at him harder.

  Mason saw her eyes narrow. Too late he realised the problem. She'd felt his arousal.

  `That's not for me, is it?' She pushed closer, dangerous. `You were going to fuck her, weren't you?'

  `Enough!' Eleanor yelled, the air glittering with her barely held energy. `Control yourselves. Our goddess is gone.'

  Mason shifted, unable to think clearly. Hunter howled. Renee asked difficult questions. Eleanor was ready to erupt, and he didn't like to think how Hunter would take that. Most of all, Darla needed the dagger.

  He moved towards Eleanor and Darla. Huntress placed a hand flat against his stomach and he was forced to stop.

  `Darla needs this. Now.' He held out the dagger, feeling oddly disoriented. His skin was itching.

  `What is that?' Eleanor abandoned her fear and pushed Huntress aside like a child.

  `A gift.' He rolled the blade in his palm letting Eleanor see it. `It belongs to Darla.' He stepped sideways and drove the dagger into Darla's chest.

  Eleanor flew backward. `Are you insane?'

  `No. Wait and see.' Mason rolled his shoulders. Bone ached as he returned to his usual size. `The dagger is full of her energy, like a jump start.'

  Renee growled, grabbing his hardness `If you ever go off with her again, without me.'

  Mason kissed Renee, holding her arms up over her head. She wrapped her legs around him. `Damn you,' she muttered, biting at his lip. `We really need to get some time alone.'

  `Sorry to interrupt.' Ralph spoke through clenched teeth. `I'm sure the world would love to see you both hump like horny dogs on the beach.' He waited, covered in gore. `But it's still a shit fight out here. Most of Bemeon's army is dead or fled but now we have another problem.'

  Mason set Renee down, controlling the driving instincts still strong from Hunter's influence. Eleanor was holding her goddess as colour began to flush her fine scales. He looked up at the seawall. Wilson was up there. And angry. Mason glanced at Ralph. `What's happened?'

  `Nothing good. Come,' Ralph said, tense as he moved off.

  Mason matched Ralph's stride through the carnage. `Bemeon's gone. How are we doing?' He didn't look at the dead around him, his eyes on the seawall.

  `Better than expected.' Ralph stopped and checked a teenage boy, badly ripped around the torso. `The young suffered the most. They think they're invincible, and most have never fought before.' He looked right at Mason. `The packs gave their young willingly. Losing wasn't an option, and they followed me to their deaths.'

  Mason felt Ralph's pain. He touched the Wolf with the back of his hand. `Their sacrifice was necessary. The pain of their loss will always be with us, but to have failed…' He let Ralph glimpse the horror of what Bemeon would have dealt out.

  The Wolf recoiled. `The memory of their sacrifice will not fade.' He said, looking away and wiping his mouth. `We have to move. There is a great fear among us. We're revealed to the human race. Many believe this will be the beginning of the end of us living in freedom.'

  Mason cracked a knuckle, moving on with Ralph. `Is Max dealing with the…' He paused, feeling the changes in how he now saw humankind. They were a threat. `Is Max dealing with the human reaction?'

  `Kind of.' Ralph stopped at the seawall steps, taking of Mason's arm. `If the tide turns against us, we cannot harm humans. That is a fight we cannot win. The packs will flee if we that happens.'

  `Ralph.' He placed hands on the Wolf's shoulders. `When I take anyone into my family it is not a false oath. It is the way of the Douglas to protect all who are kin. You Wolves are kin now.'

  `It is a big oath to swear,' Ralph said, worry creasing his face. Sirens sounded. `Best you lose the Hunter shape before presenting yourself to the world.'

  `Ah, Wolfling.' Mason pushed aside the moment of uncertainty and grinned at Ralph. `Let them see what we are. No more smoke and mirrors.'

  Ralph grinned back, letting his body reshape to his alpha Wolf.

  `Good. The humans should be fearful. Let's make sure they know why.'

  Two gunships tore overhead, floodlights streaking over the beach behind them, revealing the carnage in its full glory. Ralph nodded and Mason flexed his wings. Max was barking orders.

  Huntress appeared beside him, her hand seeking his. `Nikki and Ruth wait for us. Wilson needs us. Much has happened.' She called her mane into place. `I am not afraid.'

  `Nor should we be.' Mason slipped his arm around her and thrust skywards. Ralph followed, bounding over the seawall below. From his vantage point Mason could see Nikki and Ruth standing with Wilson and Sally. Scarla's kin huddled behind them as Max faced off against a growing mass of police and news crews. Fund soldiers spread out, weapons drawn against the crowd.

  He dropped, wings folded in, as Huntress howled their arrival. Making no attempt to soften his landing, his feet crunched into the concrete of the footpath as Renee broke away to Nikki.

  `Mason.' Ruth was on him, hugging him tight.

  Her physical contact pulled him back further to himself. He felt less alien as he looked for Wilson.

  `Lilly's gone,' Ruth said, burying her face in his chest. Renee made a low noise as she joined them with Nikki. `And then we saw you fall into the portal.' Her fingers dug into his scales. `I, we didn't know if you'd come back from there. And Wil — he's changed. They killed Lilly.' She looked up at him. `Tell me you're still Mason, please.'

  He ran a hand through her hair, hypersensitive to the emotions streaming around him. He could feel all of them, his children, his family reaching out for him.

  `It's me,' he said kissing Ruth quickly. `Where's Lilly?'

  `Here.' Wilson squatted beside the ATV, his anger clear in every movement. A shock of blonde hair stood out on the bloody asphalt. Lilly.

  `Stay the fuck back!' Max's voice broke over them. He moved the Fund soldiers
forward, herding the crowd. `I don't give a shit who you are. Stay back!'

  Mason knelt beside Lilly. Sally put an arm around Wilson but he didn't seem to notice her. His son was in pain. Mason knew how much pain could change a person.

  `I tried.' Wilson held up blood-stained hands. `I couldn't heal her, Dad.' His voice wavered but his fire burnt bright.

  Mason touched Lilly.

  Deep emotional pain burned in Wilson's eyes. `Her heart. The bullet tore it apart. She didn't stand a chance. Shot in the back.' His anger grew louder as he glared at the crowd watching them through the cordon of Fund Soldiers.

  Lilly was still warm. Her skin still held the aroma of life, but her chest had been torn open. Mason thought of shielding his son from the onlookers but left his wings hidden. The people had to see the pain to understand his family were people. `Ignore them,' he said, seeing Sally's face creased in the same anger and grief. Ralph's words slammed into his mind again — the young had suffered the most. War spared no one.

  `We were fighting for them,' Sally said in a hoarse whisper. She still held Lilly's hand. She began to cry. Wilson stiffened.

  Voices called out from the crowd but Mason shut them out. He had never had to deal with an angry and confused public like this. His tolerance wearing thin, he touched Wilson's arm.

  `Son, I can't bring her back. You know that. Her wounds were made by human weapons.'

  `I know,' Wilson said, clenching his fists. `But I cannot let this go. They killed her, Dad.' He leaned forward, voice tight with an anger Mason understood intimately. `They have to pay for this. It's murder, Dad.'

  `Wilson, no,' Sally whispered between tears. `Lilly didn't want you to do that. Her last words, Wil. We don't even know who did it.'

  `I don't care!' Wilson pulled away as he stood. Mason grabbed him, not sure if he could stop his son or if he wanted to. An uneasy murmuring had settled over the crowd as Mason held Wilson, fire raging.

  Words struggled to come, words that would comfort and bring reason to his son. A sound he knew well made him look to Max. Firing mechanisms had scraped. Heartbeats quickened. Adrenalin filled the air. Max, radiating anger, was ready to fire.

  Another war stood milliseconds away and confusion clouded his mind. Had Bemeon been right?