Shifting Solitude (Outlaws, Fangs and Claws Book 1)

by Cheyenne Hart

  Someone had turned on various neon lamps of different shades, red, green, blue. It was like some kind of new-retro private night club.

  Ten minutes later, Melody was shutting her eyes and almost wishing they were still stuck in those cages. Trying to ignore all this drug use was like torture. When she looked over at the group of them, she was smacked with on hell of a sight.

  Clare was kneeling in the middle of the room, holding the closed fun box tightly. She was sucking Yuckee's balls, while another man, with ripped muscles and dark skin, smacked her in the face with his monstrous cock.

  Why does every guy I see need to have such a nice dick? Melody wondered. It wasn't helping her stay out of the party mood, but thinking of Hallard did. He'd gone through hell to get her through withdrawal. It would be nothing but an insult, a smack in his face, to revert back to her pathetic ways so soon. She went over to a mattress that was in the corner and huddled up to try and block everything out with sleep.

  It worked, for some time.

  She awoke, eyes crusted from her rest, feeling refreshed.

  Rita was standing above her. "You want some of this?" she asked. Her was top pulled up over her perky tits now. She pushed a DVD case at Melody. There were some lines of powder partially covering the graphic image of a woman getting all three of her holes stretched out by as many fat rods. "Don't worry, it's really good stuff, clean as you'll get. Trust me."

  "Are you insane?"

  Rita sat down beside her. "What's wrong? We're safe now. There are plenty of bad people out there, you know that. But we're in here, and it's all good."

  Melody didn't believe her one bit, but she so badly wanted put her face to the disgustingly arousing DVD cover, to snort just one line. Or, she would have been happy to just lick the whole lot up like a good drug addict.

  "No--I'm clean now." Melody got up and walked away. "I'm going to find Deadra." She really just wanted to get away from that temptation. The lump in her throat was getting too big to hold down, and the tears too heavy to shut back, so she ran out the front door to get some air, or just have a minute alone.

  But she wasn't alone out there.

  "No," she said loudly with conviction. "No!"

  It was growing dark. There were also some uninvited guests outside.

  Melody darted back inside and slammed the door the moment she saw all the vehicle that had arrived. She didn't wait to count how many there were, or who it was. She saw that van and knew. Her fight-or-flight response kicked in and she spun on her plastic, dime store shoes, running back into the main living area. "They're here!" she tried to say loud enough to be heard, without letting herself become frantic and scream the words. "The werewolves are here, the gang, you're all in serious trouble!"

  "Fuck off, bitch," said Jimmie. Shut yo' mouth or get my cock in it." His dick was already occupied though, in Rita's pussy. He had her bent over against the sofa.

  "Rita! They're here. Pull your panties up and hurry!" Melody took her hand and tried to drag her away, mid-coitus.

  Jimmie was not happy, and he elbowed Melody in the chest.

  "Owe, motherfuck!" she yelled, pushing him away. When she saw how much he hated being cock blocked, she regretted doing so.

  He looked like the type of guy who would hit a woman in that moment.

  Melody looked around at every surface in the room, between the fleshy bodies, pumping and grinding, juices flowing between one another--a gamut of different skin tones made even more varied by the splayed colors of the lights.

  There was a black pistol on the table nearby and she grabbed it. She knew enough to check the safety was off--of course it was left off. "Get the fuck back, get out of my way, let her go."

  Jimmie was too high to follow what was going on or why. He certainly didn't react quickly, and since he wasn't wearing any clothes, he had nowhere to keep a gun. "That's my piece, bitch! Alright, whatever. Fuck you. Fuck you too, Rita."

  He shrugged and walked over to started fondling another woman's ass, as it bounced up and down on his associate's lap.

  Rita didn't care, because she knew exactly what was going on. "Jimmie! The men who took us are here, you idiot! Get your boys together or they'll kill us all!"

  "Bullshit. You just tryin' to stop me getting my nut, stupid slut, just as bad as your friend." He was fuming with anger now, but cautious of the gun in Melody's hand. No one else seemed to have noticed, being too caught up in their orgy.

  "Let's go upstairs," hissed Melody at Rita. "Now."

  "Wait, he has to believe me," said Rita. She was too messed up to keep herself focused for long. It was easy to cajole her out of the room.

  "Come on, he'll believe you soon enough."

  It didn't sound like anyone was upstairs, so that's where Melody guided Rita. There was an open space at the top of them, leading into a long hallway of closed doors. As they walked down the hallway, they found a lot of them were locked.

  Melody was feeling lost and trapped. "We should find a window, try to get onto the roof and escape." There was a window at the end of the hallway, but it was locked and barred.

  "They got a lot of stuff they don't want stolen," slurred Rita.

  "You just keep yourself together and do what I say." Melody checked the rest of the upstairs doors, but they were all locked. That is, apart from one, which seemed to just be a closet. "What the--"

  Inside was a person, slumped down in a heap and crying in the dark. It was Deadra. She looked up from the floor of the closet, brightly colored, fuzzy, or otherwise garish coats, and other stupid looking clothes, dangling around her head.

  "What do you want? Just leave me alone," was all Deadra said.

  "They're here," said Melody.

  Deadra snarled and suddenly stood up, becoming tense all over.

  There was a lot of banging and shouting, but no gunfire. Melody started to re-check the hallway of doors, but they were definitely locked, dead bolted too. "This is fucking unbelievable! I hope they keep the downstairs this secure," she said.

  Rita started nodded drunkenly. "You see the size of that lock at the front? And that's the only way in, 'cept the windows, n' they all have big ass bars."

  There was another, louder bang, followed by dead serious yells. Deadra's features twisted, a ripple triggered by that subsurface beast inside the woman, reaching out to the surface of her skin. She turned into a werewolf, flexing her claws.

  "We're dead," said Melody.

  "We are? Don't say that!" Rita fell onto the floor but it wasn't apparent if she'd intended to. She threw up a bright pink liquid, and sobbing tears soon followed.

  "There were more than five cars," said Melody, "and that van."

  Deadra shook her head definitely. "No. I'm not letting them get their hands on us again. Come on." She pulled Rita into the closet and half-laid her against a pile of soft things. "Get in," she said to Melody.

  "What's the point?"

  "It'll be a lot easier to protect you two if we're in here. You got any better ideas? I don't." Her face was getting darker and furry. It was frightening to get into the dark closet with such a beast, but it would have been even worse with the light one.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Hallard didn't like Colton's reckless driving, but he had much bigger things to worry about. They followed the cavalcade of gang members out to an industrial area full of factories and warehouses.

  "Why would they be in such a big hurry to come out here?" Hallard asked.

  "Didn't hear a thing about this place," said Colton. It was unnerving that he seemed so lost for an answer.

  "This must be where Melody and the others are, right? I'd still like to know what they're doing with a werewolf." Even just the idea that Hallard had been traveling with one was bad enough--and of the same blood as this gang. He couldn't even let himself think what they might have done to Melody.

  Colton broke up that thought. "A female wolf. Now, I'd like to meet her."

  "If you don't end up killing her, or g
etting killed by her, maybe you'll get to find out."

  Colton laughed dryly. "I tell if you're being serious, y'know, Hallard.

  They parked down the street and again crept along to where all the gang members had parked their vehicles, including one very familiar van. It was a warehouse that stood out from the rest, because it seemed to have been painted recently--yellow.

  "Who in the hell'd paint a warehouse bright yellow?" asked Colton.

  Hallard shook his head. "Forget about it. Just help me get Melody back."

  They checked that no one was waiting out the front.

  Colton started checking his guns, making sure he had enough ammunition.

  "Come on," said Hallard. "You should have done that on the way over."

  "While I was driving? Sure. Alright then, let's do this shit."

  The front door was left open. They went up, and Hallard was eager to see inside. He carefully peeked around the edge of the doorway. There were three Bloody Claws members--in werewolf form--milling about in the entrance area. The place was ripe with the sounds of growing commotion.

  "Can I use that revolver now?" Hallard whispered as Colton quietly came up beside him.

  "Here," said Colton, passing it to him.

  Taking the pistol, Hallard aimed, and jerked back on the trigger. It didn't matter that he couldn't shoot, because he was too close to miss. The gun went off with a roaring bang and put a hole in the back off one leather jacket, causing its wearer to nearly fall down. But that wasn't enough to really hurt a werewolf.

  Colton pushed by, into the doorway, and unloaded the shotgun at the downed werewolf's head, making it into a bloody mess and killing him. Some errant buckshot hit the next werewolf, stunning him but doing no serious harm.

  Hallard fired again but missed completely.

  The two remaining werewolves brandished their claws and fangs, running directly at the doorway.

  Hallard put the revolver into Colton's hand and pushed him out of the way to safety. He put out his both bear arms as the werewolves charged him, and grabbed each of them in his claws. He shoved one back, hard, sending the werewolf flying. He took the other's head in his paws, and quickly twisted the thick neck until it crunched and snapped. Hallard threw his head back and roared.

  There was a surreal calm throughout the building for a moment. The shouting and heavy footsteps all stopped as the monstrous roar reverberated.

  "Melody!" Hallard growled with his voice deep and supernatural.

  "You're all fucked now!" yelled Colton, moving back into the doorway and bringing the shotgun to bare on the third werewolf.

  His face looked so strange in the throes of fear and regret, knowing he was about to die. It was oddly human, but so different that it made Hallard's skin crawl.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Colton was impressed by the raw power Hallard had in werebear form. He had unloaded the last shell of his little shotgun, and was relying on his trusty revolver to keep his ass in one piece. He'd only ever shifted on purpose once, and did not yet trust himself to get into a fight as a werewolf. "Hallard, they've gone upstairs!" he shouted at the big bear as it ripped the throat out of a screaming werewolf. He would have never guessed that a monster could make such a pitiful sound.

  The place had enough different rooms and areas that most of the werewolves, and the original occupants, were all over the place. They weren't out of earshot though, and the sound of fighting and shooting was deafening.

  Colton was getting a headache and wished he could still stand to smoke cigarettes. He reloaded his trusty sidearm with his last six bullets. "Come on!" he shouted, running by the tall bear, who was chewing on a grisly piece of werewolf meat.

  In a normal house, Hallard would have needed to stoop down or go on all fours. This place had tall walls though. "There's no one else left?" Hallard dropped his head down, realizing Melody might not even be there. "No ..." he rumbled.

  "We gotta check upstairs," answered Colton, trying to keep a level head. They ran upstairs and found a large, empty space. Farther along was a hallway, filled by a group of particularly tough looking werewolves in their leather gang jackets, suitably large to accommodate their shifted forms.

  Colton pushed past Hallard and started firing until all six chambers of his revolver were empty. The bullets hit the closest wolves but didn't do much more than anger them. "Shit!" he cried out.

  Hallard ran forward and plowed into the whole lot of them like freight train.

  "Get 'em!" called out Colton. Before the impact, the looks on the werewolves' faces was priceless, and Colton wished he had a camera handy to capture it. He put his gun back in the holster and tried to focus himself on shifting so he could do some more damage.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  One of the werewolves had been kicking a door to what looked like a closet. The second Hallard heart the screams of multiple women inside--including Melody-- he lost all sense of restraint and self-preservation. He didn't care how many werewolves were ahead of him in the hallway, but he tasted the wine of their blood as it splattered across his face.

  They were terrified of him.

  That gave Hallard an advantage. But even when scared, beasts like that were not prone to cowardice. They came at him in one at a time, with no space to mob the giant bear. Like this, he could easily take them down with slashing claws and thrashing fangs. The taste of hot flesh was almost as good as wet pussy. He wished he had time to savor it.

  From the back of the group, a large, black wolf roared out. "Enough! Get back. I'll finish this!"

  The other werewolves cowered and shuffled behind their leader. He only had one eye, and was just less than a foot shorter than Hallard--massive for a werewolf. The ferocious beast walked closer, stopping at the half smashed-in closet door. He grinned. "Your little whore owes me an eye. But I always get interest when I collect on debts," he barked at him.

  "Grave!" roared Hallard. There was no time to let anything happen to the remains of that door. His Melody was inside, dangerously close to the werewolves. Hallard ran forward without thinking, toward the leader of the Bloody Claws.

  But Grave was faster, much faster. He caught the big bear in the chest with an outstretched claw, as though aiming to rip out his stomach.

  Hallard growled with pain and hammered down on Grave's head with hammer-like fists, giving the werewolf no choice but to let go, unable to compete in direct strength.

  Grave backed away and banged on the fractured closet door as he moved, laughing with evil intent when the women inside screamed. His fellow wolves were far back at the other end of the hall, like scared puppies.

  All Hallard wanted was to get himself between that closet and the werewolves. He snarled and showed his fangs, standing up tall. The vulgar display of aggression worked, because Grave kept moving backward.

  Finally--Hallard was at the closet door. He glanced inside but it was dark. "Melody? Are you alright?" he growled throatily, now tasting his own blood after taking those claws to the stomach.

  "Hallard? I'm so sorry for everything! Please don't get yourself killed. I think I love you!"

  "I think I love you, too," he replied. He puffed out his chest with pride and eyed the group of werewolves hiding behind their fierce, but now unsure, leader.

  "No, I do love you, Melody. And this is for you," Hallard said. He ran forward again, and Grave pushed one of his kin in front of himself.

  This made Hallard stumble, knocking the hapless werewolf over. Hallard tried to correct his balance, with his arms against the wall, but that only gave Grave the perfect opening to run forward and lunge at his throat.

  It knocked the unbalanced bear back, and he hit the ground hard.

  Grave came down hard and put his knees up to focus his entire weight at that area, which pivoted Hallard's top half down quickly. He sunk his claws into the bear's neck and jaw, biting the top of his face and bouncing with his legs to help sink the many sharp teeth deeper.

  Hallard couldn't see an
ything but dark fur and part of the ceiling. The feral sound of Grave trying to do as much damage as possible was all encompassing.

  "No!" screamed Melody. But she sounded louder, clearer. She'd come out from the closet!

  What are you doing? thought Hallard, unable to speak.

  There was a gun shot, and another, and several more in quick succession. Grave loosened his grip and Hallard was able to shove away. They locked claws together, half-kneeling on the floor. Graves was still biting his face, making it impossible to see what was happening behind him.

  It felt like the meat on the front of Hallard's skull was going to tear right off, with blood clouding his vision and every other sense.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Melody stood with the smoking gun in her hands. All of those shots hadn't even stopped Grave, but it had helped Hallard. The only problem, was that the rest of the werewolves were running at her from the end of the hallway.

  "Run!" screamed Deadra, hoisting Rita up and dragged her away, by the narrow space left to the side of the wrestling werebear and werewolf.

  Melody followed after, wanting to stop and help, but swearing that she could actually feel the heat coming from the thirsty maws of the lesser wolves behind her. She stopped behind the fighting alphas, and almost attacked Graves from behind.

  "Go!" growled Hallard when he realized she was there.

  So, she ran over to the partially shifted Colton, who she recognized immediately. "You're together?"

  He nodded, and continued to focus. He couldn't manage to shift, and a reflection of fear in his eyes was caused by the wolves running after them.

  "Get them to safety!" cried out Hallard as he fought Grave. "Save her!"

  "I'll try!" replied Colton. "Come on, ladies!" They ran down the stairs.

  Melody paused and asked, "Can't you help him?" But she already knew it was a stupid question, as the guy couldn't even control his shifting yet.