Attacking from the rear broke the will of the group. The Weretigers disengaged as if a recall had been blown by a silent bugle.
Terry bounced back and forth as he surveyed three hundred and sixty degrees, ceiling to floor, and back again.
Kae crawled to his knees and then stood on shaky legs. A gross tear in his flesh trailed down one arm and continued into the meat of his upper thigh. Kaeden’s nanocytes were already working to repair the damage.
Still, Kae looked exhausted. Marcie’s eyes stopped glowing and she leaned heavily against her husband. A Werewolf with a brown pelt and silver belly fur stood near them, watching the blocks, watching the space, tensed and baring her fangs.
Rifle fire echoed from the archways and Char took off, her four legs propelling her to Werewolf speed. Terry launched after her. Shonna and Merrit loped after them, but slowed when they grew dizzy from lack of blood. They fell over after a few steps.
“Watch them,” Marcie told Kaeden as she ran after her parents.
“Who is hurt the worst?” Cory called from somewhere behind Kae. He didn’t speak as he watched his wife sprinting toward the open archway. Kae pointed to Shonna and Merrit before leaning against the nearest block. His hand shook as he removed his pack.
He knew that it was from the energy coursing through his body as it repaired his injuries. It had happened when he had the crossbow bolt through his chest, too. He smiled darkly knowing that he could return to action as soon as needed.
Kae checked his rifle, inserting one of two spare magazines he kept in his pack. He sent the bolt home and forced himself upright. “Tighten up! Move over there, backs to the wall,” he ordered as he limped to help Cory with Shonna and Merrit. Tyson was already moving Samantha that way. Edwin and Ramses were helping each other while Sue and Timmons couldn’t take their eyes from the archway.
“We need someone who can still fight to stay here, just in case the Weretigers come back,” Kae explained, waving the two Werewolves to him.
Cory’s hands glowed as she placed them on the worst of the wounds.
A Weretiger’s scream interrupted her concentration.
It came from the archway. “Stay here,” Timmons told Sue as he ran toward the sound.
***
Kim and Auburn jogged after the Weretigers. The two didn’t seem to be in a hurry, but looked like they knew where they were going. They stopped before a closed door.
Kimber looked at it. Aaron nodded toward the door handle. She stood to the side and reached for the handle, watching the Weretigers tense as she prepared to throw the door open.
Auburn saw it too. He raised his rifle and crouched. He looked over the barrel. Kim raised her rifle with one hand, then slapped the handle down and shoved.
The door was barred and didn’t budge.
“FUCK!” she yelled. Aaron screamed his dismay and dragged a paw full of claws down the wood of the door, leaving a long scratch.
They didn’t have any explosives.
The group looked at the door, wondering what to do, when Terry and the Werewolf Char ran up.
“It’s blocked, locked, barred, or something,” Kim said.
Terry was looking at it when Marcie showed up. “What’s in here?” he asked her. She leaned back against the wall to catch her breath. She closed her eyes and searched the etheric dimension. Two Weretigers were close, pacing in the room beyond. She reached further and found nothing. She could sense the Werewolves in the main hall and nothing else.
“The enemy’s back is broken,” she said. “Two Weretigers in there and they don’t seem happy with their situation.”
“Let me say that I’m pleased at their unhappiness and they can eat a bag of dicks!” TH shouted at the end. He backed up against the wall and ran, jumped, coiled, and kicked near the door handle with both feet.
The large wooden door burst inward. Terry landed on the floor in the doorway. Aaron and Yanmei were first through by leaping over Terry while he rolled to his feet. Auburn and Kim leaned into the doorway, covering the colonel as he got to his feet, then the three walked in together.
Timmons arrived in time to join Marcie and Char.
Finally, the odds were in their favor.
Marcie absentmindedly scratched behind her mother-in-law’s ears as they walked into the room to join the others. Char shook her head, her Werewolf ears flapping. Marcie kept her hand resting on Char’s hairy neck as she watched Terry take charge.
“I think that’s it for the Qin Clan,” Terry said. “We can’t have Were taking over, turning humans into slaves or worse, food.”
The old man and old woman had stopped pacing when Terry broke through the door. They’d stood perfectly still as Aaron and Yanmei sniffed them and stayed near. Maybe the younger Weretigers recognized that the oldsters weren’t a threat. Not anymore, since they had no minions at their command.
“We were harming no one, keeping to ourselves. Maybe you should look closer to home to see who is trying to take over,” the old man suggested.
“We’ve done plenty of soul searching and have arrived at one clear answer. You’re bad, not us.”
“Simple as that, is it, Mister Terry Henry Walton?” the old man said. Marcie’s breath caught as she heard the old Were say her father’s name.
“I go by Colonel, actually, but yes, it really is that simple. I’d ask how you know my name, but no matter how you answer, it doesn’t really matter. Know that any Were who would make humans his or her slaves is on notice. I personally will not allow it. The Unknown World is our place to keep separate from humanity and not use to subvert them. I wonder what a bag of Weretiger blood is worth?”
“Are you running the trade?” the oldster asked.
“Of fucking course not,” Terry retorted. “There’s a fight out there, but it’s not a war. It’s human crime against the Were. We think someone from this side is directing them. My bet is on a Forsaken, but the jury is still out. We could use you slimy bastards for bait. These fuckers are good at what they do. Were are running scared. That chaps my ass, and then imagine my rage when I find out that you’re here and fucking with the locals. You aren’t any better than the Vampire hunters.”
“That cuts me deeply, Colonel Walton. We would do no such thing. You’ve befouled our sanctuary. How many humans were in here? How many skeletons did you find in our closets?”
“You’re wrong; we don’t need to check closets for skeletons; and therefore, you’re a right foul git,” Terry replied. Char cocked her head back and forth as she wondered where he had gotten that from. In all their time together, he’d never used those terms before.
They sounded familiar. British.
Harry Potter. Char shook her shaggy head. Marcie continued to scratch behind her mother-in-law’s ears.
The old Weretigers had no answer to that.
“Do we let them live?” Marcie asked.
“Isn’t that the question of the day?” Terry replied as he fixed the oldster with a penetrating gaze. “We’re going to leave, but we’re planting spies to watch you. If you try to rebuild your clan, we’ll be back. You have quite the mess out there. You might want to start cleaning that up. It’s going to take a while.”
Terry stopped on his way out to rub Char’s furry head and look into her sparkling purple eyes. “I love you,” he whispered, before turning to the rest. “Let’s get our people and get out of here.”
Aaron growled and snarled. Yanmei snapped her jaws.
“Come on!” Terry yelled over his shoulder from the hallway. The others filed out one by one, following him to the main area where they’d left their injured. Char changed back into human form and walked naked beside her husband.
Aaron and Yanmei remained in Were form. Kim and Auburn followed the group, rifles at the ready as they watched the hallway behind them. The oldsters leaned their heads into the hallway, but didn’t follow. Kim pointed to her eyes and then back at the Weretigers.
I’m watching you.
The two retrea
ted back inside the room.
***
Nick leaned over the rail and saw the consolidation of their people. He was taken aback at seeing Char naked. He didn’t look away as quickly as he should have. The colonel caught him staring. “Get my pistol and meet us down here!” Terry yelled.
“And my magazines!” Kimber joined in.
“And my pack,” Terry added.
“And anything else of ours you find up there!” Auburn shouted.
Char found her clothes and quickly dressed. Marcie looked at her in-laws. “How much stuff did you lose up there?” she joked.
“It’s just stuff, but if we don’t have to leave it behind, we won’t! Look at this. Empty!” Terry pointed to his holster, making a sad face.
He’d already seen that no one was dead. Cory was sleeping from her efforts to heal the two Werewolves. Shonna and Merrit were sufficiently recovered to put on their torn clothing.
Samantha, Edwin, and Nick would need Cory’s help, but in due time. They weren’t critical.
With the gear collected and everyone back in human form, the group trudged from the building.
“What about the other Weretigers?” Tyson asked.
“The five or six that escaped are no threat to us. What did we kill, sixty or seventy of them? We crushed them and their hopes. The message we left with the oldsters should lead them down a different path. If not and they make us come back, we’ll simply blow the whole building and bury their dumbasses inside.”
Terry watched the surrounding area carefully. Little ammunition remained should the survivors regroup, but Char and Marcie both shook their heads. They were not close.
Maybe they were still running.
Terry smiled and nodded, happy that none of his team had gotten killed.
When they made it to the pod, Sergeant Garcia reported that two Weretigers had been killed as they tried to run through their position.
One of the warriors was holding an ear from one of the dead Were. Garcia looked surprised by the display.
Terry lost all humor and stormed up to the man, grabbing him around his throat.
“They may be our enemy, but you will respect them. I don’t ever want to see this crap again, do you understand me?” he growled. The man nodded. Terry pointed to Cory’s ears. “What do you think I would do if someone held up one of her ears?”
The man looked horrified.
“I would kill every human being who had anything to do with it, and nothing. Would. Stop. Me,” Terry emphasized.
“Sir, request permission to conduct a burial detail.” Garcia stood at attention as he made his request.
“Granted,” Terry replied. Sergeant Garcia grabbed the man by the shoulder and threw him toward the dead Weretiger, ordering him to start digging with his hands. A few of the warriors were outfitted with entrenching tools. They fell out and started digging.
Cory woke up long enough to heal one of Samantha’s cuts and a slice across the back of Edwin’s leg. She immediately fell back asleep after that, with Ramses hovering protectively over her.
“Maybe we should have blown the building this time,” Char suggested with a wry smile.
Terry had joined the others on the pod. He sat, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, relaxing during the post-combat crash as his adrenaline dipped before returning to normal.
“Maybe,” Terry conceded. “But what fun is that? And we couldn’t cave it in on a bunch of humans that we didn’t know weren’t there.”
The burial detail returned and both squads boarded the pod. Many stood in silence as they looked at the beating the group had taken. All of them were covered in blood, most of it dried and hardening.
Lieutenant Tyson Kurtz was uninjured, along with Cory, Aaron, Yanmei, and Auburn. Every other member of the teams had been raked, cut, or slashed.
They healed at an incredible rate, but their injuries stood out. Their clothes shredded. Their flak jackets rent and torn.
Sergeant Garcia sat next to Tyson. “What went on in there, Lieutenant?” he asked.
“The most incredible combat you’ve never seen. The colonels moved so fast you couldn’t see them. The others are fucking warriors. They stood nose to nose with the enemy and didn’t back down. You saw the claws those Weretigers had! None of them were afraid. They fought like demons. Each and every one.” Kurtz tipped his chin toward Terry Henry. “He jumped three stories into the middle of a bunch of them. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I’m glad they’re the good guys,” Garcia replied.
“Fucking A, Garcia.”
The comm device buried in Terry’s shirt buzzed. He opened his eyes and pulled it out.
Akio. “What do you want, my man?” Terry said before activating the device.
“Akio-sama. The Qin Clan is no more. Add sixty or seventy Weretigers to the tally,” Terry said casually, closing his eyes again as he held the comm device to his ear.
“That is good news, Terry-san, good news indeed. I think he will be pleased,” Akio replied mysteriously.
Akio wasn’t one to throw out bread crumbs hoping that Terry would follow the trail.
“He who, Akio-sama?”
“Someone I must go after and see if he is who I believe him to be. Go to San Francisco and wait for word, Terry-san.” Akio clicked off before Terry received an answer to any of his questions.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
WWDE + 150
San Francisco
“Vampires, Weres, and humans on a collision course? In New fucking York fucking City,” Terry said slowly. “And the Vampire hunters are on the prowl in Chicago? These things come in threes, so what’s the next shoe to drop?”
Felicity shook her head. She’d dragged Ted along to help her deliver the intelligence to Terry and Char. She’d been meeting with the FDG’s “vacationing” team members and finally, she had something worthwhile. Years of nothing and all of a sudden, a war had begun.
“Since Gerry resigned and disappeared, the NAPC went to shit and we lost all of our intel from Chicago. Hey, Char! What do you say we run out there to conduct a little exercise?”
Char nodded slowly. “Sounds good. Any time we can punch blood thieves in the mouth, I’m good with it.”
“Warm up the pod and call in our boys! We’re taking a little trip,” Terry announced. Felicity looked over her stylish glasses at him.
“I do declare, Terry Henry Walton, you love going to war,” Felicity drawled. “By the way, they call themselves the Black Plague.”
“Not going to war, my dear Felicity, but winning the war. There’s a big difference. The Black Plague? You gotta be shitting me.” TH shook his head. “If you’ll excuse us, we have an appointment in Chicago.”
Terry and Char immediately left the FDG conference room and started calling the tac team members. Most were somewhere else, so they grabbed Sergeant Garcia and two squads of the others. Kim and Auburn were able to join them, but no one else. Not even Kurtz. He was with the tac team members conducting mountain warfare training in the hills far to the east of San Francisco.
Terry thought about it for a millisecond. “Play the hand you’re dealt.” He checked the ammunition, had everyone load extra, and then Terry boarded the pod.
North Chicago
“Seriously, is this the time?” Valerie shot a brief frown his way, and then saw them—several people in camouflage, stepping out from the tall grass nearby. The group carried a variety of weapons, all except one, the youngest-looking of the group.
Valerie’s instincts kicked in and she sniffed. One of them was special, Were special. The Were was attractive, but in that do not mess with me sort of way that most Weres had going on. A streak of almost silver-white ran through her hair.
“That’s close enough,” a large soldier said, aiming at them, clearly eyeing Sandra’s sniper rifle.
He glanced over his shoulder and said, “Where’s the colonel?”
“He’ll be along soon enough,” the Were said, hands on he
r hips, assessing Valerie. She was tall, with sparkling purple eyes that studied the three, but especially Diego and Valerie, with interest.
“Please, just tell us,” Sandra said, her voice full of exhaustion. “Is this Chicago?”
The Were nodded.
“Then that must make you part of this Force de Guerre we’ve heard so much about,” Valerie said, keeping her voice level, not trying to intimidate or offend. “Keeping the peace?”
“Keeping outsiders out,” the Were said. “When need be. Especially certain types of outsiders.” Her eyes darted from Valerie to the sun at the edge of the hills, its rays casting long shadows across the ruins and trees.
“We’re either welcome or we’re not,” Valerie said, not in the mood for games.
“I have to say, I’m curious,” the Werewolf said smoothly, tilting her head slightly and sniffing the air. “So yeah, welcome to Chicago. There’s someone who’d like to meet you.”
“Thanks, Char,” a man’s voice came from the tree line, and then he stepped out, rifle slung over his shoulder. “Is she…?”
“She is,” Char replied. “And the small one’s a Were.”
“That so?” The man looked impressed, then said, “I take it you’re not with the Black Plague then?”
Valerie shook her head. “Though we do mean to stop them, so if you have any affiliation, better let us know sooner rather than later.”
The soldier looked at her, then to the man. “Whaddaya say, Colonel?”
“I don’t think we have new recruits for the FDG, TH,” Char said.
Terry nodded. “That’s true enough. But…one has to wonder what a day-walking vampire’s doing around these parts? Or for that matter, just being alive.”
A moment of unease followed between Valerie and her companions.
“Maybe we should join them?” Sandra said. “I mean, can’t hurt, right?”
Valerie pursed her lips, debating, and felt their thoughts, like a warm cup of tea with a bit of spice. She still wasn’t sure how to interpret these sensations, not exactly, but she figured that couldn’t be all bad. Perhaps safe, but guarded.
Nomad's Galaxy: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 10) Page 25