Rogue Breed (Rogue Huntress Chronicles Book 2)

by Thea Atkinson

  I got Rena to shoot off a text to Dara, telling her not to come home for a while. If she arrived at the homestead and there wasn't an ambush, then the empty property and fresh mounds of turned earth would be cause for the old girl to worry. Best to keep her away from it altogether.

  Rena typed out the message quickly and then nodded at me in acknowledgment. I wanted desperately to have Rena ask Dara about the hunters, but I was afraid of targeting her as well or dragging her in when she was safely across the country.

  The slog through the woods was worse than I thought. Several of the girls were in either horrible shape or recovering from some brutality. By two am, we were nowhere near the mansion and I had to stop to fuel them up, thanking my good sense to have taken the time to pack provisions. We sat around in clusters on fallen logs and over large rocks, chewing on sandwiches and chugging back water. No one was more anxious to keep going than I was, but I realized by the time our meager rations were exhausted, many wouldn't have found the stamina they needed to carry on. Olanna and Alma were among the worst. With the wolf in her nearly gone, Olanna couldn't keep up, and Alma was still too weak from her injuries. She had taken to limping and holding onto her ribs and said she didn't have quite enough stamina to shift yet. The guard went off ahead of us to warn the manse of our arrival and have rooms set up in the manse, and the small cottages outfitted with bedding.

  I looked askance at the club-footed girl and caught her looking at me. I tried to smile at her and got the feeling from her reaction that it came out as more of a grimace. I pushed myself to my feet, wiping breadcrumbs off my jeans.

  "Those who can, should shift and continue the rest of the way on all fours. Keep going till you find a magnolia garden. That's how you'll know you're there. The guard would have already alerted Lynden. They'll be expecting you."

  I looked them over with a careful glance. Many of them already looked exhausted, but not as spent as Alma and Olanna.

  I pointed to the two weakest who sat next to each other on a fallen tree. "I'll take these two with me and hold up the rear."

  A silent nod from Rena told me it was the right decision. Two of the youngest girls startled constantly each time they heard a noise from the underbrush. I couldn't imagine what kind of life they must have led before Dara's if a few leaves rustling and squirrels chasing each other through the underbrush made their wolf so nervous. Then again, it could easily have been the events of the morning that had them so spooked. While most of them had seen some sort of violence, I doubted any of them had witnessed a murder let alone half a dozen.

  They all set out as wolves, leaving me to stare wistfully after them. I re-adjusted my pistol in my waistband and tested to see if the knife in my boot was still there. It was just me, Olanna and Alma who remained. The others had found stamina in the excitement to be rid of their humanity and left it behind in puddles of clothes. I collected every bit of material into a pile and covered it with dead leaves and brush. Just in case, I didn't want any hunters finding evidence that any kind of shifter had come this way and followed the trail to my own home.

  To my surprise, we made it to the mansion without incident just after sunrise. It was a relief to see the mansion in the sun's first rising light with the way the orange of it played against the retreating shadows. It was such a picture of safety, that I almost sighed as I drew near. Then I noticed the property seemed busy as a beehive. I tried to tell myself it was the result of so many shifters making a run on the place. Still, it didn't sit right. As we trooped over the grass to the front door, I watched a young guard, new to me and obviously appointed by either Gerald or Jeb, draw his rifle and I had to order him to stand down before he let a shot go.

  "Call the house," I said to him as I jerked my chin at the cell phone on his hip. "Tell Lynden we're here and then alert Gerald. We need extra guards about the property. I don't expect trouble, but it's best to be cautious."

  He inclined his head and spun on his heel ahead of me.

  When Lynden ran out of the front door aiming straight for me, I couldn't help feel the clenching of affection. Thank god that at least one of my brothers lived. Even though I felt the undeniable pull of affection, there was also that of grief as well. He was half of the twin set. Ten years old and already twenty because of Caleb's betrayal and the horrors of the last couple of months. While he skipped down the step toward me, it was Olanna who rushed past me to seek out the boy's embrace. He launched into it with such zeal, she staggered backwards and when she turned to face me, an almost apologetic look on her face, I found myself wondering if she had used up the last of her virus during the journey. She looked pale and tired.

  "All is well, little Lyn," she said. She rustled his hair and he grinned. "As you can see I'm fine. So is your sister." She smiled at me with such a look of relief, that I knew she had been worried about him too.

  "Finest kind," I said striding forward and lifting him from his feet the way I'd done when he'd been smaller. I gripped his arm and leg and spun him in circles till I thought he was dizzy. Damned if he'd be twenty before his time if I had anything to do with it.

  He screamed at me to let him go, and disappointed, I eased him onto the grass. He stood sedately as he glanced at Olanna and pulled his t-shirt down like I'd seen Jeb do a hundred times. The perfect little man. My heart ached when I saw it.

  "All's well here too, it seems," I said, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. He wriggled in my arms, and when I tried to plant a kiss on his forehead, he kicked at my shins. Then he danced away with such aplomb, I made a note to have him begin weapons training or jujitsu.

  "None of that mushy stuff," he declared. "That's for girls and babies."

  "You're right," I said. "Only girls get mushy."

  I was about to ask after Rena and the rest of the pack of females when a gunshot to my left made me startle nearly out of my skin. Some idiot with a twitchy trigger finger, no doubt. Probably the fidgety new guy. Be a lucky SOB if he didn't hurt someone. I was already turning around to find the source of the idiocy and give him a piece of my mind when my eyes tried to send my sleep-deprived brain the warning that what met my gaze was not normal. Not normal at all, even for an accident.

  At first, the sight of three masked men striding across the grass with dogged focus from the woods, their assault rifles lifted their shoulders, simply didn't register. I was home. I was safe. This wasn't real, it was only a memory. Then my instincts took over and I only had time to think here we go again, before I fell to the ground, yelling at everyone to do the same.

  I had Lynden pinned beneath me, and was waving Olanna forward. She needed to get him safely inside. I shouted over my shoulder at Alma, ordering her to crawl for the house. The guards had already begun to retaliate, and one of the attackers was lying prone on the ground, his rifle flung two feet in front of him. The other two were still coming at us. At first, I wondered why they weren't bothering to find shelter to protect themselves from the retaliatory fire, then I remembered the way the attack had gone down at the farm. These were from the same outfit. And I'd sent Jeb away. Now it was just me and my guards to make an end of this.

  Olanna had reached me and was pulling at Lynden's arm, peeling him out from beneath me. I gave him a push and as I saw him land into Olanna's arms, I swung around, twisting onto my feet and letting the shiver of change take me. My forefeet landed on the ground with an almost shuddering glee. I tore across the lawn, not caring if the guards were offering me enough protective fire, only wanting to kill those who would have dared attack me twice in one day.

  I had made it at least a dozen yards when the hunter I was aiming for fell to the ground in front of me. One of the guards, maybe the young one with the heightened sense of alert, had no doubt shot him. I smelled the hunter's blood on the air, mixed with a sickly fragrance of cologne. I found myself wondering what kind of man would come to an execution smelling like he planned to meet a blind date.

  I sniffed over the back of his head, d
own his shoulders. The other attacker had been long taken out and I could smell all three of them together. Gunsmoke. Cologne. But no silver. I found it curious and shifted without thinking back into my human form. I pushed the assailant at my feet over onto his back. His arms splayed out to his sides with a thud as they struck the grass. His chest was riddled with bullets but none had gotten through the material of his vest. His throat too was covered with the same material.

  I poked about the mask he wore, examining the material. Yes. The same resistant cloth as the vest. All but the eye-holes of course. And that's where one of the guards had taken him. I peeled the mask from his head. There it was. The same fleur-de-lis tattoo rode the crest of his cheek. I dropped the blood-soaked mask onto the grass. I was digging my hand beneath his shirt when Rena came up behind me.

  "What are you looking for?"

  I didn't bother to turn to her. I had caught sight of something beneath his clothing.

  "Check the other guy," I said as I felt the coarse and telltale feel of paper beneath my fingers. I pulled my hand back sharply when the edge of it cut into my thumb.

  "Paper cut," I said, squinting at her and with a look of confusion, she raced for one of the fallen hunters and ran her hands over his chest.

  "This guy has some too," Rena said from a dozen yards away.

  By then I was already pulling out sheaves of paper from beneath the man's sweater and vest. It was as though he had come stuffed to the hilt with it.

  More of it was wadded up in his pockets and some was flat, pressed together. There had to be at least a hundred sheets there. Taped around his body.

  I peeled one sheet from the sheath and unfolded it. Large typewritten letters arched across the face of it. One message. I swallowed convulsively when I read it.

  We're Coming. All of us.

  I vaguely heard Rena's holler to me.

  "Sweet god," she said and I lifted my head in a sort of fog to look at her. She was waving paper at me.

  "There are dozens of these," she said.

  I nodded. Not quite able to speak yet. All I could do was stare down at the black letters on the white page. I was vaguely aware of her crossing over to the other assailant. Digging beneath his vest.

  "Here too," she said.

  "Unfold it," I said, barely able to voice the words. "Tell me if it says anything."

  A long silence met my ear and then I heard her gasp. My gaze met hers and they locked for at least three heartbeats.

  "Yours says the same?"

  I nodded, too dumbfounded to do much more as I watched Dara's rogue trickle out of the house now they believed the threat was quelled. Curiosity killed the wolf, I thought as I watched more peek through the doorframe. I caught sight of Lynden's worried face and I swung my gaze back to the man sprawled in front of me.

  These men hadn't come to kill us. They'd been akin to suicide bombers and no more, sent to give a warning and take whatever they could as they came. The real threat was coming next.

  "Get everyone in the house now," I said. Rena leapt to obey without hesitation. She marshaled the women and wrangled them into the house. I followed her on feet that felt numb. This couldn't be happening. Not so soon after the coup. Who were these men? Perhaps remnants of Caleb's faction? Whoever they were, I would take no chances and I would take no prisoners. We needed to batten down the hatches right away.

  I entered the foyer without really paying attention to where I was going. Only when I saw Lynden standing next to Olanna so rigidly that his little jaw appeared to be made of marble did my brain finally break free of its cage.

  I opened my arms to him and pulled him in a tight embrace. This time he returned it.

  I knew he was scared.

  "Everything is okay," I said, murmuring into his hair. "Everything is okay."

  "It hurts," he said, and I peered down at him.

  "What hurts?"

  He lifted his arm for me and I could see where a bullet had grazed his bicep. It was bleeding down his arm.

  The bastards had hurt him. On my watch. On my land. My lungs felt scorched with fury.

  I had to say something, show him I wasn't scared even though I was so terrified I could barely breathe.

  "Your first battle scar," I said to him and tried to smile. I had the feeling that it came off looking like the grin on a jack-o-lantern. Even so, his face lit up. The right thing to say, thank god. I fell to a crouch in front of him so that I was at eye level.

  "You're brave," I said to him. "Jeb will be proud of you."

  I thought the smile that broke across his face was for me, but then I realized his gaze had traveled over my shoulder to land on someone that stood behind me. I swung my head to look over my shoulder. Alma. Standing there wringing her hands like a nervous colt.

  There was something peculiar in her face as she looked at Lynden. I turned to look at him. Their eyes had locked together. No. He was too young to imprint. Too young to bond. And I'd be damned if he would find interest in a pale looking and malformed wolf who would dare bring killers to our property.

  "You," I said to her. "You better tell me what the hell is going on right now and what the connection is between you and these hunters."

  She looked at me and rubbed her hands together. I didn't care how scared she was.

  "And you better do so now or I'll kill you myself."

  THE SWEET RELIEF OF LETTING GO

  She blabbered it a bit at first, trying to find a way to make her tongue work in the face of my horrible fury. I couldn't say I blamed her; I wanted to throttle her badly enough that I didn't think I could keep myself from actually harming her. We sat in the sitting room just off the foyer while the others milled about as if they were doing their best to look busy, when I knew they were trying to listen. Those small black eyes of hers doubled in size and pierced their way right through me. I had to force myself to take a few breaths as I stood in front of her. My fists clenched next to my sides, knowing how badly they wanted to flash out and seek revenge. It was several lungfuls before I managed to contain myself. I slid my gaze over her petite frame, letting it land on the deformed ankle. She must have noticed the direction of my gaze and she crossed her good foot over it as she stood there.

  "Enough blabbering," I finally said. "What. Do. They. Want?"

  She shrugged. "You know this. They want us dead. That's all."

  "Because you lead them to us. To my pack." I was frenetic in my pacing and I spun on my heel three times with the intent of launching a punch at her face and then rethinking it.

  "They wouldn't be here if not for you." This I shouted as much frustrated at myself for wanting to hit her as I was that the situation had landed in my lap.

  "You stepped in," she said with a timid reminder. "You didn't have to help me."

  "They were killing my pack members."

  "They would find you anyway," she said. It's exactly the same as they came for us," she squeaked out. "They sent scouts first and then warning soldiers. Then they came full force."

  My chest felt as hollow as her voice. Full force. I wasn't sure what that meant, but it couldn't be good.

  "How many of them?"

  She shook her head and twisted away from my direct stare. She mumbled the answer into her shoulder.

  "Come again?" I demanded.

  "Dozens of them." She pulled her chin forward to look at me. I swore I could see the remnants of her own terrified memories swimming behind her gaze.

  Something chirped in my chest, wanting to be the protective alpha I'd promised to be, but losing out over the desire to shake the girl for holding out on me. Even so, I managed to find a calm tone. I was already working out in my head what it would take to stop them. A few armed guards, Jeb, me, Rena. A bunch of ammunition and some careful planning. I'd have to get the council together. The automatic habit of problem solving did nothing to soothe the deep in the gut anxiety I now felt as I asked the hard questions, the ones I wished I didn't have to hear the answers to.

  "
And these dozens," I said. "What do they want?"

  "My visions only tell me so much," she protested. "What they want is easy. Our deaths. They taunted my pack for three days before they finally attacked."

  "And you kept that piece of information from me." I was rigid with fury. "A piece of information that just almost got my brother killed."

  "I didn't think it would be the same. I was scared. I wanted..."

  "You kept it from me. And now I have to plan for what? Dozens of hunters at my doorstep?" Even I could hear the incredulous note in my voice. "What kind of family is it? The Waltons?"

  I was breathing hard, trying to keep calm, remind myself she had been scared. And hurt. If I'd been an outcast, I might have felt just as afraid to deliver the bad news lest I be left alone again.

  I swallowed and inhaled slowly. Then I halted in front of her.

  "You escaped. Tell me how."

  "I only managed to escape because of one courageous soul."

  "And this courageous soul," I drawled. "Where is he?"

  "She. Dead, I suppose." She swallowed down hard and her fingers fluttered at her throat before finally clenching at the collar of her shirt. I could see that the fingers trembled as they held on tight, enough that the shirt waffled in the breeze as though it were being lifted by the wind. I sighed, knowing it was no good to press her further at the moment. She was tired. I was tired. We would need a good few hours sleep before we could tackle this problem with any rationality. But that didn't mean we couldn't start the process.