The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set

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The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set Page 8

by Michael Anderle

“You don’t look fine.”

  “It’s nothing, really,” Mary-Anne said. “It’ll heal soon enough.” She lifted her top to reveal where Sullivan’s foot had connected with her side. The blood had risen to the surface in a red weal. She looked at Caitlin, almost embarrassed. “I used to heal a lot faster than this, y’know. If you had found me ten, even five years ago, I would’ve been able to rip you all apart in seconds.”

  Well, that’s an intense thought.

  “He didn’t mean it…” Caitlin said. Mary-Anne cocked her head. “Sullivan. He’s a gentle giant. He’s one of the good ones, just not too bright.”

  “Oh, you think I can’t pick out the good guys and the bad guys from a mile off?” Mary-Anne said, waving her hand. “After several centuries of life, you think I don’t know who is a prick and who just gets caught up in the chain of obedience? Trust me. There were three bad guys there tonight. One is bound and gagged in my basement in his underwear. Another has learned just how painful it can be to take a good stiff one up the back passage. And the other one…well, I’d love to have the chance to tear his head from his neck and paint my walls with his blood.”

  “Hank?”

  “Mmhmm. Any man who stands and watches instead of engaging in the battle is a spineless coward.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Caitlin asked after a second of imagining the scene.

  “The same reason that made me save you. Honor.” Mary-Anne pulled herself to her feet, wincing. “It’s not my place to kill for the sake of killing. I gave him a chance to prove me wrong. Now, if I ever see him again, it’ll be my ultimate pleasure to serve his head and body the divorce papers.”

  “Not if I get to him first,” Caitlin said, unconsciously gripping the hilt of her sword. “But what about the other men Trisk sent to you before? You killed them?”

  “If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be talking to you now. Whatever your governor’s instructions had been, those fellas seemed pretty ready to slice me to pieces and deliver me one chunk at a time.”

  They stood a while in silence, watching the sky. After all the action inside the manor, it seemed impossibly calm. Stars glittered overhead—the same stars that Caitlin had watched from the comfort of her bedroom window for as long as she had lived.

  They seemed brighter somehow. Like they held more energy. Her head felt clearer than it had in…well…forever.

  “Thank you,” Caitlin said, almost inaudibly.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Thank you for saving my life.” She held out a hand, not sure what else to do.

  Mary-Anne shook it. “You humans are strange creatures. Just when I think I’ve figured you all out, there’s a gem that comes along that breaks the chain. For years, every man and woman I encountered wanted nothing more than to kill me or use me, to drain my blood for their own selfish gains, or to kill me through fear that I might turn Mad and go on a rampage. I took to hiding, sleeping away my years through fear that the world would never change—” Mary-Anne took a deep breath in, sniffing the air, “and then you come along…”

  “I just want to fight for what’s right,” Caitlin said, looking thoughtful. “If I could rid the world of Mad, just one zombie at a time, I’d gladly take that journey. If it meant saving the people I love, of course.”

  Mary-Anne’s ears pricked up. She pointed behind Caitlin to where a pair of red eyes had appeared in the darkness.

  “Well…now might be your chance.”

  Caitlin turned and instinctively drew her sword. Another pair of eyes appeared.

  “Do you want to take the left, or the right?” Caitlin asked.

  There was no answer. She was suddenly alone.

  She stood for a moment, confused by her companion’s apparent disappearance. The owner of the first set of eyes screeched, running forward into the small clearing. Caitlin pushed aside all her questions to focus on a teenage girl with blisters and gashes along those parts of her body that were exposed to the air. She stumbled and hobbled as though she’d badly damaged her leg, paused, then ran for Caitlin.

  Several more eyes appeared out of the darkness. A moment later, the air rumbled with the cries of the Mad.

  Caught on her back foot, Caitlin slashed at the Mad girl, taking a nice chunk off one of her arms. She followed up by taking a leaf out of Sullivan’s book and booting her in the hip. The girl spun off in a half circle, seemingly dazed for a moment, regained her orientation, then charged again, her limbs jerking and waving erratically.

  “Mary-Anne? A little help here?” Caitlin asked the air as she slashed at the girl’s neck. The zombie screeched as Caitlin pulled back for another hack.

  “No, no, flesh sack. This is where your training begins.” The voice came from somewhere high up in the trees.

  Caitlin drew her sword back and stabbed it into the girl’s chest. It was tough, but it went in deep, penetrating her heart. She yanked the blood-slicked sword from the body and prepared to face the additional five Mad which now ran toward her.

  “Legs at an angle for balance. Toes pointed ahead. Bend your knees. Prioritize. The Mad run at different speeds, depending on how long they’ve had to degenerate. The difference may be infinitesimal, it may be huge. Breathe. Steady yourself. Go for the fastest first. Don’t be scared to strafe and kick.”

  “Okay…okay…” Caitlin muttered between calming breaths, doing her best to settle her mind and assess the advancing Mad.

  A tall woman with a mop of dirty blonde hair seemed the fastest, her clothes nowhere near as tattered and blood-stained as the others.

  Caitlin turned her attention to her first and yelled as the sword whistled and whined. A blood-curdling screech escaped the zombie’s mouth as Caitlin ducked out the way of her arms and drove her blade into the back of the woman’s calf. She collapsed to one leg, allowing Caitlin the chance to chop at the neck. It was thick, but she made some leeway, the neck beginning to flap and topple to one side.

  “Behind you!” Mary-Anne’s voice rang out.

  Caitlin’s heart raced, and her adrenaline flowed. Despite the terrible danger she knew she’d be in if any of her attackers bit or scratched her, she couldn’t help but grin as Mary-Anne shouted instructions. One-by-one, she took them all on with a new sense of focus and growing confidence.

  As she fought, she thought back to Dylan and his refusal to train her. She had asked her father, too, over the years for help in swordsmanship. Yet they had all refused, and she had been forced to hide away and practice in the secrecy of her home. Aside from the pervasive loneliness of those stolen hours, she lived constantly with a gnawing fear, never quite knowing if what she taught herself was right or not.

  Now, finally, she was learning.

  And it was from a motherfucking vampire.

  Chapter Eight

  Silver Creek, Silver Creek Forest

  Dylan urged his legs to run faster. Every step felt like he was lifting lead. He looked behind him, checking the forest for any sign of Hank or the others. His heart pounded and his brow peppered with sweat as he calculated his next moves. They were in trouble. Well, he was. He wasn’t sure about Sullivan at that point.

  From the moment the vampire had run off with Caitlin, everything fell apart. Dylan could see in Hank’s eyes that it was over. Now that his sister had joined forces with the vampire and ruined any chance they had of catching her, Dylan would now be the prime target.

  Would he die?

  Maybe.

  But he didn’t wait to find out.

  “Get your ass back here!”

  Hank’s words had echoed through the halls as Dylan fled, leaving Hank with Hendrick and Sullivan. He knew Sullivan could take care of himself but still wrestled with guilt for somehow getting the loveable brute caught up in all this.

  As long as he stayed with Hank, Sullivan would be okay.

  Dylan hoped.

  He wasn’t sure what his plan was now, but he knew he had to get away. To grab a bag full of his things—maybe some food, too—holler for Jax
on, and head out into the wild.

  That was the plan. Run and dash before Hank and the governor had the chance to catch him.

  When the gates of Silver Creek came into view, he called to Clint and heard the grinding of the mechanisms. He slowed his pace, not wanting to draw extra attention to himself, and took the side streets home.

  Was Caitlin okay? Dylan thought so. There was something between her and the vampire. A connection that he could sense. Why else would Mary-Anne have saved Caitlin? Why else would she choose to save Mary-Anne? He knew his sister as though she were an extension of him, and he knew she wouldn’t risk everything without good reason.

  Maybe he could find them out there? Join Caitlin and run away as she had offered? That didn’t seem like such a bad idea now that he feared for his life. Silver Creek, the place he had grown up and where he had built his career and more memories than he could count, suddenly seemed cold.

  Lifeless.

  Gray.

  Jaxon was already barking when he opened the door. His tail wagged wildly. The two dark patches around his eyes reminded Dylan of a type of bear he’d once seen in a textbook. A black and white thing he couldn’t quite remember the name of but remembered it looking cute as hell.

  He’d even shown it to Caitlin, who took next to no interest. She wasn’t quite like the other girls in Silver Creek. There was so much more to her than conventional responses.

  Dylan darted around the rooms as he collected a leather bag and began shoving everything that he thought he needed inside.

  He grabbed some food from cupboards and his bow and arrows and paused when he reached for a charcoal sketch of himself, Caitlin, and their parents.

  Jaxon nudged his leg.

  “Well, fluffs,” he said, reaching down and petting his head. “Looks like I’m going to need your super sharp nose. Caitlin’s out there somewhere, and we’re sure as hell going to find her.”

  Jaxon cocked his head as if listening intently and understood each and every word that exited Dylan’s mouth.

  “That’s right. Me and you. We’ll find her, boy, won’t we? We’ll find her. Even if it’s the last thing we do.”

  When Dylan was satisfied that he had everything he needed, he crouched low and tied the leash around Jaxon’s neck. He held a shirt he had found in Caitlin’s room to Jaxon’s nose, and the dog took a big sniff.

  “Does that smell like her?”

  Jaxon barked.

  “Good, then let’s go.”

  It was as Dylan reached for the door handle that the knock came. Hank’s voice followed shortly after. “By order of the governor, you need to open the fuck up.”

  Kain Sudeikis sat huddled up in the corner of his cell. An average man would probably be shivering and dead by now, but not Kain.

  With one long, hard nail, he scratched at the wall, humming a song to himself. He wasn’t sure at what point he’d picked the tune up, but he was pretty sure that it was from a band called King…or maybe Queen…or something like that. He only knew he liked it because there were a dozen changes of pace and melody. He remembered being shown a poster once of four guys with long dark hair.

  “Nothing really matters…to meeeeee…” he crooned, almost in a low howl.

  He looked down at the mouse that still lay on the floor. It was hard and crisp with rigor mortis. He felt his stomach rumble and wondered if it would taste as bad as he thought it would.

  Until he saw a glint of something shiny further down the corridor. One of the guards leaned around the corner to try and get a better look at him.

  They may not be able to see me in the dark. But I can sure as hell see them.

  “Psst. Hey…you there.”

  For a moment, he was met with silence. And then, “Shhh. No talking.”

  “I thought that was only in libraries. So unless you’ve got a load of books hiding so far up your ass you can’t move from your post, I think you might enjoy some pleasant conversation with your old buddy, Kain.”

  “What are libraries?” the guard returned.

  “Shhh, don’t pander to him, Ace. He’s nothing more than a prisoner,” the taller of the two replied.

  “Don’t hush me.” Even through the darkness, Kain could see Ace’s bald head, as smooth as an eggshell.

  “The boss wants him quiet. Do you know what he’ll do to us if he finds out we’ve let slip that there’s a…that there’s a…one of him down here?” The taller guard’s voice shook ever so slightly. Maybe not enough for his companion to pick up on, but Kain was used to finding weaknesses and exploiting them.

  “And you really think he’s a werewolf?” Ace hissed. “They live in kid’s books, Sid. Grow the fuck up.”

  “Not necessarily,” Kain called.

  He saw the two guards’ heads turn, their eyes widening with curiosity. They began to whisper hurriedly to each other. It was cute. To think that they thought he wouldn’t hear a thing with his heightened senses.

  After a moment, the taller of the two—Sid—peeled away from his post and approached cautiously. He kept his hand on the hilt of his blade and stopped beside the cell but still out of arm’s reach.

  “You’re right to be cautious. Our kind have built a reputation for our mood swings over the years,” Kain said. Smiling inwardly at the open curiosity, he walked slowly across the cell and stopped with his hands on the bars.

  “You admit it then?” Sid said in wonder. “You’re really a…”

  “A what?” Kain teased. “Oh…a werewolf? I don’t know…” He turned away and paced a few steps inside the cell. Then, in a flash of speed calculated to take the guard by surprise, turned and slammed into the bars, his eyes glowing a fierce amber. Sid jumped back so far in fright that he fell to his ass on the floor, grunting loudly as Kain erupted in laughter. “You…should…have seen…your…face!”

  “What the fuck is going on back there?” Ace called warily before he stepped out into the shadowed corridor. “What are you doing on the floor?”

  “I’ve fallen, haven’t I?”

  “What did you do that for?”

  “Don’t mind him.” Kain grinned. “He was just so stunned by my beauty that he passed out. It’s not the first time I’ve been called a knockout over the years.” Kain batted his eyelashes and licked his lips, enjoying the discomfort etched across the guards’ faces. “Now, while you’re both here, could you get me some real food? I’m friggin’ starving. There’s only so far a mouse can get me before I go…” His eyes began to glow again, a dull orange this time, but enough to stand out in the dark. “Feral.”

  Sid picked himself off the floor and stood next to Ace. Their eyes squinted as they watched him with what seemed a mixture of fear and curiosity.

  Sid shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “The boss said no,” Ace said, whacking Sid across the chest, his hand thumping against the leather of his armor.

  “Look,” Sid said, squaring off with Ace and once again attempting to whisper, revealing little understanding of a Were’s true powers. “The boss wants to see him transform, right? The boss wants to see a werewolf do his thing so we can use him around the Creek, right?”

  “Right.”

  “What if we’re the ones who make it happen?” Sid continued. “If we can send for the governor and show him that he’s transformed, he’ll have the proof he needs and we can get promoted. Think about it. More power. More money. I might even be able to buy Kate that dresser table she’s been after for years.”

  “Kate does love that dresser…”

  “Exactly,” Sid said.

  Ace’s eyes lit up. “Do you think I could get Theresa that rug for our living room?”

  “Anything!” Sid said.

  Ace clapped his hands as Sid turned and disappeared into the dark. He waited near Kain for a few moments, thinking about his missus’s reaction when he handed over the finely crafted rug she’d talked about for the last two months. That was, until he remembered that Kain was standing right behin
d him and the smile began to slip. Without another word, he returned to his post, a small spring in his step.

  Kain waited patiently for Sid to come back, and when he did, he could smell him before he saw him. He carried a plate at arm’s length as though it were a bomb that might detonate at any moment and set it down outside the cell.

  “I can’t reach it there,” Kain said, crouching and reaching through the bars.

  The guard bent down and slid the plate closer.

  “A little more. That’s it…nearly there…”

  When the plate was but a foot outside the bars, Kain smiled and caught the guard’s eyes. In one swift movement, he reached both arms out and pulled Sid tight against the bars. One hand wrapped around his body and stayed the guard’s sword hand, while the other searched his body frantically.

  Sid, held immobile by Kain’s strength, found that words failed him at that moment.

  “See, Sid. I don’t need to transform to prove what I am. If you and your governor need solid evidence, then you might have to wait until the next apocalypse. Maybe you don’t understand what’s happening to Weres out there, but you’re sure as hell not in a position to be making those judgment calls.”

  Kain found what he was looking for, released Sid, and pushed him away from the cell. He grabbed the plate of food—roasted chicken with distorted and mutated vegetables—yum!—and settled back in his corner, far out of reach of the guard’s sword.

  “You tell your boss about any of this, and I’ll be sure to kill you first when I escape,” Kain said, laughing as the guard stood frozen in the near darkness. After a long while, he must have accepted his reprieve because he returned to his post without a word.

  “Oh, and thanks for the grub!” Kain called, stuffing the chicken in his mouth with one hand and fondling the keys he’d stolen from the guard’s waistband in the other.

  Even without seeing his face, Dylan could hear the glee in Hank’s voice.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuck, he thought as Jaxon growled, threatening to bark.

  “Shhh,” he said, placing a hand over Jaxon’s mouth.

 

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