The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set

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The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set Page 70

by Michael Anderle


  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  —Michael

  Chapter One

  The Broken City, Old Ontario

  They had been everywhere at one point. The Mad had moved around as if in herds, and the gurgled screams and cries from their throats still filled his head on his bad days.

  Tunnels and halls had thronged wall to wall with bodies that groaned, cried, and shuffled endlessly. The entire bunker had gone to shit as the Madness worked its magic and spread like wildfire.

  Bryce and Geralt had been the sailboat in that ocean of horror.

  One leak. That was all it took to bring the plague into the bunker—one snake in the grass, one person out in the surface world at the wrong time.

  Bryce still had no idea how Franklin had caught the Madness. As far as he was aware, the Were had simply done his daily duty—a swift nose-poke at the air to sniff and try to detect the winds of change. The world had been empty for some time. What harm could it have done?

  That was the naive question which everyone had asked in the following hours.

  One bite, one scream, then another and another.

  Soon, the bunker had been full of the fuckers. They roamed about in their droves, guided by their never-ending desire to spread the Madness and taste human flesh. He shuddered at the memory of red eyes and chomping teeth.

  Bryce had run, then. He’d known how fruitless a fight would have been at that point, even with what little understanding he’d had of the plague. For a while, though, he’d watched as those around him were bitten and turned into feral monsters. He’d stood for almost too long with an open mouth before Geralt had grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of his trance and the upturned mess that had once been the bunker’s dining space.

  “Are you fucking stupid? Get your ass in gear and run. Now’s not the time to freeze.”

  The bedrooms, mess halls, and activity rooms—home for their past few decades—blurred past them in shades of silver, gray, and blue. Artificial lights flickered overhead. The sounds of dozens—if not hundreds—of Mad resounded behind them. Bryce’s fists knocked friends, relatives, and former lovers aside as they charged onward, ascended the ladders, and took the stairs. Finally, they had emerged on the desolate surface and taken their first breath of clean air in months.

  The sounds of the Mad stopped when they secured the bunker’s lid. The screams and cries for help silenced when Geralt transformed and placed a rock on top of the cover to keep the fuckers trapped inside.

  Sometimes, Bryce still wondered if they were alive down there now. A secret pocket of Mad hidden within the world, waiting for the day that some ignorant excavator shifted the boulder, uncorked the lid, and released the infected.

  “Are you ready?” Geralt had said.

  “For what?”

  The Alpha had surveyed the area from atop the hill and scanned the clusters of trees. He blinked in the sunlit reflections of far-off lakes and ponds before he shrugged. “Survival.”

  It was all these thoughts and more which now raced through Bryce’s mind. Memories and reminders of a past in which Geralt had been at his side.

  Bryce had been loyal and followed his Alpha into battle against the Mad as they hunted for the last of the Weres. He’d tried to create a community in the Broken City over which he could rule and build an unseen utopia for decades on Earth. They had led the last of them down to the sewers and converted those abandoned places to an underground haven. It should have been a perfect solution, but the foundation of this had been a dictatorship which rubbed the humans the wrong way.

  “Hurry,” he said and shifted momentarily from the great hulking bear into his human form. Bryce stood as naked as the day he was born, and blood trickled from the deep gash in his leg he had acquired from the bitch’s sword.

  He glanced back to see the wolf and panther following. Mikkel and Wes, the comrades who had stood by his side in battle. There was no one behind giving chase. Not even Kain had followed.

  Shit. Still, better to be safe than sorry.

  The Were concentrated, assumed his bear form, and limped down a street to his right. He moved as fast as he dared although his back leg almost buckled from the pain. Buildings blurred by. The same sense of urgency he had felt escaping the bunker surged within him, only now, he might as well have been alone from the start.

  Geralt was dead, slaughtered by the hand of one woman.

  Wes and Mikkel were useless piss-sacks of animals without the ability to transform back into humans. They were stuck and set in their ways. What use was that?

  Bryce suddenly felt more alone than he had in years. He had the Weres in the sewers below the city who chose to live their lives as humans, terrified of transforming through fear that the Madness would claim them. Or that they’d be caught mid-shift between animal and human form and turned into hideous lycanthropes. He and Geralt had been the only ones with the gift to transform unharmed. They remained unaffected by the shift as if somehow cloaked by the protection of the bunker on the day the world fell to shit.

  What should he do now that their leader had fallen and the one friend from his past was gone? The humans had made their intentions clear and showed no hesitation killing without mercy.

  And, more importantly, where the fuck was Kain Sudeikis, the Were whose loyalties had apparently returned to those of his own kind?

  Where was he now? Somewhere behind, maybe?

  At that moment, Bryce didn’t give a shit. He sprinted onward, his companions flanking and a little behind until he found the hidden house on the edge of the city. From there, he made his way into the hidden tunnels. Finally, he locked the door behind him, breathed a sigh of relief at being back in the protection of the Weres’ lair, and let his mind think ahead to how the fuck he would deliver this news to his brethren.

  The street grew quiet. The echoes of the Weres’ heavy steps faded into a nothingness they could all feel.

  They should have laughed and celebrated. Caitlin, Mary-Anne, and the rest of the group had rescued Kain from the clutches of the Weres. After days of hunting and searching in The Broken City, there he was. Although that wasn’t where he would stay, and they could all feel it, especially when Kain said, “I have to go back.”

  His determination made Caitlin feel oddly proud of the Were.

  Mary-Anne’s face fell, and her nostrils flared. “Are you crazy? We’ve spent forever looking for you and the minute we find you, you want to go back with them brutes? Didn’t you see their anger toward us? You’re better off without them.”

  Caitlin stood deep in thought. She already knew what the outcome would be after having had the chance to exchange words with Kain mid-battle. The Weres were his Silver Creek. There were good folk in the sewers he wanted to rescue and liberate, and that was something she was totally in favor of.

  The only problem now was that she had killed their leader, a colossal scarred bear with a foaming mouth and death in his eyes who had come at her with everything he had. She knew the Weres wouldn’t take kindly to the news that a human had killed their Alpha.

  So what should they do now?

  Vex, Belle, Tom, Laurie, and Joe stood awkwardly around them, unsure what to say or whose side to take. Jaxon sniffed busily between the cracks and crevices of the surrounding rubble.

  Mary-Anne grabbed Kain’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go back to the humans in the city and sleep it off. If you still feel like this in the morning, we can talk again.”

  “Wow, you really are turning into his Ma,” Vex muttered.

  “Either that or she really wants to get me into bed,” Kain added.

  The vampire ignored him but whipped sharply to face Vex, and her red eyes flared. “Can you think of a better idea? He’s talking like a lunatic. We’ve slaughtered their leader. Their leader. They won’t welcome him back with open arms. Rather, they’ll destroy him, and we need Kain alive
.”

  Belle raised a finger. “Technically, he didn’t take any part in the actual killing. That was all Kitty-Cat.”

  Caitlin glanced at Belle and her gaze lowered.

  “He hardly made an effort to stop it, did he?” Mary-Anne retorted. “I think they’ll notice that. Not only did the wittle Were duck behind a car for most of the fight, but he also stayed behind to talk to us. They know he’s on our side now, right?” She turned to Kain as if for confirmation.

  He blushed and remained silent for a moment. “I can’t believe you care that much for me.”

  “What…no, that’s not what I—”

  The Were ran forward and wrapped his arms tightly around her. “It’s okay, sweet fangs. I care for you, too. But I have to do this.” He planted a big wet kiss on the side of her face which Mary-Anne immediately attacked with her sleeve.

  “No.”

  A moment of silence passed between them. Not too long before, they had heard the heavy, fast-paced footsteps of the Weres fleeing. Now, though, all they heard was the wind breezing steadily through the streets of The Broken City.

  “He has to go back,” Caitlin said as she reached a final decision in her mind.

  “Not you too, Kitty-Cat.” Mary-Anne threw her hands up in frustration.

  Caitlin stood beside Kain, wiped the bear’s blood off Moxie—her silver-tipped blade—and slid it back in its scabbard. “Look, I know this situation isn’t ideal—”

  “You’ve got that right,” Mary-Anne snorted.

  “But we are the Revolutionaries, right? We stand for freedom. We stand for equality. We fight against injustice.”

  Vex, Belle, Laurie, and Tom nodded. Joe looked from side to side, seemingly confused. As one of the later additions to the crew, he hadn’t been part of their beginning and the vision they’d adopted.

  “There are good men and women down there in those sewers,” Kain added. “Weres who have been forced to make a decision between human and animal, like me. Yeah, there are some shitbags, too, but that doesn’t mean they deserve that we turn our back on them.”

  “Forgives me if I’m wrongs,” Joe chipped in, his words whistling through his teeth. “But aren’t these the same Weres you done run away froms before?”

  Kain blushed. “Yes. Yes, they are. But that was back during a time when I was alone and I wanted out. Some terrible things happened down there, and I couldn’t take it anymore. There was no hope and no possibility for light in the dark world, not even with Bryce as deputy.”

  “Who’s Bryce?” Belle asked.

  “The massive bear you just fought.”

  “I thought that was Geralt?” Vex added.

  “No! The other one—”

  “So why now?” Mary-Anne interjected, her face the epitome of concern. “Why bother with them now, after all this time?”

  Kain took a deep breath and turned to Caitlin. “Because I’ve been shown a better way. Caitlin, you guys, the rest of the Revolutionaries… I’ve seen what it’s like to give people the option of freedom and to liberate those who have been oppressed and crushed. Sure, I’ve done some shit things in the past, but—”

  Caitlin continued for him, remembering the words he had spoken to her. “These people are his Silver Creek.”

  “Right.”

  “And we still need to find Scout,” Belle added and her cheeks flushed red. “Don’t forget Scout. He needs us.”

  Vex rolled his eyes. “Does he?”

  “Yes!” Belle said and punched his arm.

  “But we’ve already got Jaxon,” he protested and ignored the glare Belle cast him.

  Whatever fire was left in Mary-Anne fizzled. She lowered her head. “Then go and do what you need to do.”

  Kain grinned and leaned in for another hug but was stopped by the vampire at the last minute. She grabbed his shoulders.

  “But first, we find a way to communicate. We find ways to make sure you’re okay. You’ll go back into a fire-ant nest which you kicked and poured hot water into. It’ll be dangerous as fuck. You know that, right?”

  The Were nodded. Mary-Anne yielded to the embrace and Caitlin was surprised to see a tear in her eye.

  After some discussion over the best ways to keep in touch, they reached an agreement. They were aware that time was against them if Kain was to work his way successfully back into the pack. All too soon, Caitlin watched with a heavy heart as he sprinted in the direction his fellow Weres had fled a short while before.

  “Godspeed,” she whispered into the wind as he ran out of sight.

  “He’ll need more than God here,” Mary-Anne said. “He’ll need the Queen Bitch, the Dark Messiah, and every fucking deity you can think of to pull this off. This mission is suicide.”

  Caitlin merely smiled. Aren’t they all?

  Chapter Two

  The Sewers, The Broken City, Old Ontario

  The mess hall beneath the city teemed with Weres.

  They were a diverse bunch. Tall, small, fat, thin, male, female—the list went on. It was a rare sight to see every Were hidden within the sewers crammed in one room, but the messages had been sent, and the pack rallied.

  All heads turned to watch as Bryce entered the hall, flanked one on either side by Wes and Mikkel.

  The chatter decreased as he gained their attention. There was a pause as many waited for Geralt who often followed swiftly behind Bryce. When he didn’t appear, the chatter resumed.

  Bryce rubbed his tired eyes and took a deep breath. He hadn’t slept a wink that night. After he’d bandaged the gash on his leg and finally managed to stem the bleeding—thanks to the help of Cynthia, the elder Were with soft hands and a warm heart—he had put out the call for the assembly. He had deliberately kept the message vague and worried that many would not come. Now, as he craned over the sea of heads and did some mental arithmetic, he acknowledged that he had done a great job.

  The only problem was what would happen next. Weres were volatile at the best of times, but this would be interesting.

  He cleared his throat, and a few heads turned.

  Anger shafted painfully through him. He closed his eyes, transformed into the powerful black bear, and gave vent to an almighty roar.

  A wave of silence washed across the Weres. Most turned to the front in curiosity.

  Bryce stood tall, and his head scraped the ceiling. He nodded his satisfaction and morphed slowly back into a human. A few awed mutters and lustful expressions indicated those Weres who had not had the privilege to watch someone transform in a long time. Many of his brethren kept to themselves in the dark hollows, and there were a few whom Bryce had simply forgotten existed.

  “Geralt…is dead,” he announced. He had rehearsed this in his head all night, knowing that with Weres, simpler was often better.

  A buzz rippled through the assembly. Near the front, he saw Leena sob and cover her mouth before she sprinted out of the room a moment later.

  “Dead?” a voice asked from somewhere in the middle, a harsh, croaking sound. “Gone? Geralt?”

  “Yes.” Bryce held his head high. “Geralt was killed in the night by a human on the surface. He fought valiantly and battled not only a human but a vampire as well.”

  An outcry of disgust followed at the mention of a vampire.

  “But his fight was in vain,” he continued and held his hands out in a request for quiet. “His body now lies on the surface, and the warrior girl and her company have demonstrated a skill beyond anything I have seen in many a year.”

  “How many of them were there?” Roger, a plump Were with a scar running over his glass eye, asked as he stepped forward. “It must have been a mighty battle to defeat old Geralt. Lord knows that he had a power far beyond any of our own.”

  Bryce didn’t like the way Roger spoke. He found himself growling without realizing it. “Numbers don’t matter.”

  “Twenty? Forty? One hundred?”

  The Werebear snarled.

  “Oh!” Roger said with a coy smile. “S
o it must be only a few if we’re embarrassed about the truth. What do we say, folks? Do we want the truth, or not?”

  Bryce glared when he sensed a restlessness form in the crowd. Were leadership was always a delicate task, and the last thing he needed was some toothpick to rile them up and cast doubt before Bryce even had had a chance to discuss what he proposed going forward.

  “A handful—” he started but was cut off.

  “A handful?” Roger shouted. “A handful of humans took down the almighty Geralt Husk, one of the last remaining Weres in possession of his full abilities? Why, they must be some tough humans indeed.”

  “He fought valiantly to the end. There was no shame in his efforts tonight.”

  “But he’s still dead, is he not?” Roger asked and turned with his arms outspread to the crowd. “The big bad bear who squandered his abilities by cowering beneath the surface struggled to take on an itty-bitty vampire?” He spat on the floor, and his face grew dark and malevolent. “I’m not surprised. What use is a caged animal in this day and age? What use are we all, cooped up here and hiding in fear?”

  “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, we can’t win the fight like we are,” Cynthia chimed in. Her hair was gray and unkempt. Her face spoke of a lack of sleep, but she still had a fierce determination in her eyes. “There are too many of them, and with Geralt gone, we’ve even less power on our side.”

  “Oh, buuuuullshit!” Roger exclaimed. He focused his words on the crowd. “That’s exactly the type of bullshit attitude that has kept us stuck down here and squashed like ants beneath the dirt. We’ve been treated like nothing more than worm fodder and I, for one, am sick of it.”

  “I advise you to calm your tone, Rog,” Bryce said and took a step toward the Were.

  A grin crept onto his pasty face. “Is that right, grizzly? I suppose that’s because you think you’ll automatically step into the role as the new Alpha, huh? You’ve lived in Geralt’s shadow for so long that now is your time to step into the sun and take charge, is that it?”

 

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