Demon Wolf

by Bonnie Vanak

  “Help me,” she whispered.

  Then the invisible hand picked her up, shook her like a rag doll and slammed her against the opposite wall.

  Just as quickly, the violence ended. “It’s gone,” she said as he raced over to where she lay. “I felt them, but now I don’t.” She closed her eyes and reached out to search for the demons.

  “They’re gone. Back to the bolt-hole, thousands of miles from here. I sense it. But there’s a presence, an evil that’s like a cloud...it’s very strong now.”

  “They can’t access the base.”

  Screams and shouts echoed down the hallway. Dale drew his weapon. “Stay here.”

  He left, slamming the door behind him.

  Icy cold snaked down her spine. A perimeter of safeguards ringed the compound to keep out the strongest demons.

  But many more lesser demons could slip beneath the invisible cloak of protection like gnats worming through mosquito netting.

  Keira bolted out of the office and ran down the hallway, following the screams, running straight into the gymnasium.

  Carnage greeted her.

  She ran outside to the firestorm chamber and yanked the door open. Dale, in the antechamber, wrestled with a two-headed demon on the floor.

  Rage boiled through her, pure fury. The demon drew back and hissed, its red slit of a mouth showing jagged teeth.

  She drew on all her anger, all her fury at the years of imprisonment, losing her family...and pressed the button to release the streams of fire.

  “Dale,” she screamed. “Throw him toward the chamber. Let’s burn the bastard.”

  As he did, a tongue of orange flame hit the demon. It looked startled, trying to beat the flames out with long, taloned fingers. The fire seared the creature, singeing it, the disgusting stench of burning meat filling the air as the demon writhed and screamed.

  Finally it fell over into a smoking pile of muck.

  Dale clasped her arms. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded.

  They went outside and surveyed the damage. Dallas jogged up to them, an ugly bruise on his left cheek and deep scratches on his arm.

  “Bastards snuck in through security. We got ’em all. But we lost Rodriguez.” Dallas’s mouth thinned.

  Shay and Dakota joined them. “Curt, there’re a few MPs at the gate, wondering what the hell is going on and who let off the fireworks,” Dakota said.

  Dale’s expression shuttered. “Get the wounded all treated. You two deal with the MPs, delay them until we get this cleaned up. If necessary, alter their memories, but only as a last resort.”

  As he bandaged her burn in the infirmary, Keira felt the weight of Dale’s grief and guilt, as well as her own, over the loss of his staff.

  “I believed the base was safe from a demon attack.” Dale’s jaw tensed. “Until we find and seal that demon bolt-hole, there will be more attacks.”

  “I did this,” she whispered as he finished wrapping her arm in gauze. “If not for me, all of your staff would still be safe.”

  “It’s the price we pay to keep civilians safe, Keira. We all know the risks we take.”

  But his words offered no comfort. People died because of her. How many more lives would it take until this all ended?

  * * *

  Hours later, exhausted and worn-out, she and Dale went home, accompanied by his men. The SEALs went downstairs to the basement to spend the night and discuss their next course of action. No one was returning home tonight, not until they had an extensive debriefing with Keira.

  Dale sent Ensign Lees home, and opened the cartons of Chinese food Dallas had picked up on the way over. His SEAL team and Keira sat around the basement’s dining table and ate, discussing their options.

  “The demons who infiltrated the navy base knew exactly where they were going because of me.” Keira’s pretty mouth wobbled precariously. “The Centurions have released more demons from the bolt-hole. They’re gathering tremendous power. Soon, they won’t need to be corporeal. They’ll have enough demons to command their own army.”

  “If that happens we’re fucked.”

  Trust Dallas to cut to the chase.

  Dale wanted to keep Keira safe and protected from the world. But for years, she’d been exposed to evil, and knew nuances of that evil. Even their best intel couldn’t come close to the knowledge she possessed.

  “Keira, you’re the only one who can pinpoint the bolt-hole. Stephen found an approximate area, but only you were there when they came from the earth.”

  He hated forcing her to remember things she’d wanted to keep buried.

  Gaze dull, she glanced up at him. “I only remember as a wolf. Scents, sounds, not sights. The memories in human form are too clouded. You can’t pull them free. They’re buried deep.”

  “Then she’ll come with us. As wolf.” Dakota folded his muscled arms.

  Dale’s protectiveness cranked to overdrive. “No. Too dangerous.”

  She sat up, face alight with interest. “He’s right. In my human form, I’m useless, but my wolf can track the scents. The bolt-hole will carry the scent of the Centurions, and my wolf knows the scent of them instinctively. I could track them through a blinding sandstorm.”

  His guts knotted. “Keira, we’re going to do a HALO drop from 30,000 feet at night and cut through the jungle. We’re SEALs, trained to do this. You’re not. And you’re a civilian. Brass would find out, and cut the op before it even got started.”

  “She can jump as wolf. Strap a chute on her, let her track ’em,” Shay advised.

  His men looked at him expectantly. Waiting on his word. He was commander of the best damn team in the U.S. military and always bisected his personal life from his career. Now his personal life stared him in the face and collided with the mission’s objective.

  They needed her on this op. And every single bone in his body screamed against it, wanted to lock her in a room and keep anything from ever hurting her again.

  He hated this. It made perfect sense to take her along as a wolf. Hell, how many drops had Dakota or Dallas done in wolf form? SEALs from other units and other soldiers thought they were highly trained dogs.

  But Keira wasn’t a SEAL. She’d never trained for a covert op, never even held a weapon.

  She rested her hand on his tensed arm. “Dale, please. Let me do this. It’s our only chance of catching them.” Green gaze pleading, she looked desperate. “It’s my only chance of being free, and finally atoning for the bad things my wolf was forced to do.”

  Dale clenched his fists. Nodded. “You need a crash course first on drops. You’ll be with me, double jump, the whole way.”

  Chapter 23

  She’d never jumped from an airplane at 30,000 feet before.

  Especially not in wolf form.

  Keira had tucked the slave armband into Dale’s pack. It would act as a transmitter, honing in on the frequency of the Centurions if they were present. But nothing could pinpoint the bolt-hole.

  Except her.

  In wolf form, she sat quietly by Dale’s feet while the soldiers, non-SEAL members who were unaware that this was a paranorm mission, accompanying them cast uneasy looks her way. She’d shifted, making her wolf form smaller, possible now that the demons weren’t there to trigger the slave armband and command the beast. Still, she imagined the sight of a 150-pound black wolf, all fangs and claws, unnerved some.

  This jump was HALO—high altitude, low opening—to avoid radar detection and anyone who might look up and see the parachutes opening. They needed stealth for an insert.

  With Dale, she’d free-fall for a long period before he deployed his chute.

  With Dale, she needed to trust.

  Dale reached down and caressed her fur. Green and black greasepaint streaked his face. In his camouflage and military gear, he looked dark and dangerous, someone she’d never want to tussle with in human form.

  “Easy, girl. We’ll be there soon.”

  “Big dog,” one pimple-faced priva
te remarked. “Sure hope she don’t piss all over the equipment.”

  “She’s a soldier, not a dog,” Dale snapped. “Respect her as you would respect me.”

  Keira looked at the solider, her tail thumping against the floor as the private bent down and scratched behind her ears. Dale looked daggers at him. “Hands. Off. Her. Now.”

  Gulping, the private scurried back to the plane’s front.

  “Possessive much, eh, Curt,” Shay teased.

  “Curt’s taste in ladies has gone to the dogs,” Sully joked.

  “The wolves, Sully. Don’t insult the lady.” Dallas grinned at her. “You just ignore him, Keira. Sully doesn’t know a wolf from a squirrel.”

  The buzzer sounded. Dale signaled the men to don their O2 masks and then put his own on, slipping a custom-fitting mask over her muzzle, along with goggles.

  He strapped Keira on a special harness tied to him, ran a reassuring hand along her hindquarters. She wore goggles and body armor, specially fitted for her.

  “I trust you,” she’d told him before shifting. “I know you won’t drop me.”

  “Never,” he’d replied.

  The SEALs lined up as the back hatch opened and the light turned yellow. Outfitted in helmet, oxygen mask and combat gear, she scarcely recognized the men, but all turned and gave her a big thumbs-up. Then the light buzzed green, and they all fell into the sky.

  Wind whistled past her. Cold cut through her fur. But she was free, flying! Dale held her securely, then the snap of the chute yanked them upright.

  In the starlit night, they floated to earth. Keira gazed down as Dale guided their chute. Never had she seen anything more beautiful.

  If she died here tonight, she’d be grateful for this moment. Floating through the sky, secure against the man she loved.

  * * *

  After they landed and buried the parachutes, they set off through the forest. All the SEALs carried weapons, pointed outward as they slipped through the thick jungle. A sliver of moonlight spilled through the branches. With her large paws padding through the undergrowth, she worried about making a sound.

  Behind her, the SEALs moved in silence. Once in a while, she felt the reassuring hand of Dale touching her flank.

  Sealing the bolt-hole came first. They had to prevent more demons from escaping.

  Ribbons of scent assaulted her nostrils, but none associated with nature and freshness. The smell was putrid, the stench of mold and staleness. Evil. The wind shifted east, and the smell grew stronger, along with a thin thread she knew well.

  Old wine turned to vinegar and sulfur. The Centurions.

  Ears back, she loped toward the smell, approaching a narrow, mud-strewn path dipping sharply down the mountain. Keira followed it and heard the sound of gurgling water.

  The path opened up to a wide ravine, where a creek moved in sluggish ripples over rocks, flowing downward. Keira shifted back and clothed herself, the stench too terrible to bear in wolf form.

  She squatted, peering at the thin ribbon of creek wending down the mountaintop. The SEALs gathered around.

  Dark energy pulsed from granite boulders tumbling down the narrow ravine. Water trickled sluggishly over the boulders, forming a small gray pool below. The stench assaulted her nostrils; decay and rotting flesh, and a blackness no light could ever erase.

  As Sully went to examine it, she grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t touch it. It’s poison.”

  The SEAL tossed her a questioning look. Keira glanced around, found a small stick and tossed it into the pool.

  Upon hitting the water, the dry wood shriveled and then dissolved.

  “I believe we found the bolt-hole,” she told Dale. “See that small black pulsing in the water? That’s the entrance to the netherworld.”

  He gestured to Shay. “Seal it.”

  Shay shrugged out of his pack. A white glow surrounded him as he gathered his powers. Throwing out his hands, he directed currents of white light at the rock formation. But the oval of blackness remained as he continued the onslaught. Shay dropped his hands and gasped.

  “Sorry, Curt. It’s too much.”

  “I’ll help you.” Dale started to gather his powers.

  “No.” Keira shook her head, sensing a dark presence close by. “If you drain your white energy, you’ll have nothing left to fight the demons. They’re nearby.”

  His mouth twisted, eyes luminous in the moonlight. “If I don’t seal it now, more demons will leave. Can’t risk it. Stand back.”

  Shay began the chant, a low, melodious sound as Dale stood and a white glow surrounded him, silver sparks leaping into the air. A cool wind whipped strands of his silky hair as he closed his eyes. Dale stretched out his arms and directed currents of pure blue-white energy at the bolt-hole, his chants joining Shay’s.

  Water sizzled as the power stream hit the boulders, drying up, the oval of blackness finally shrinking and then disappearing all together. Gasping, Dale dropped his arms, the glow surrounding him vanishing.

  He bent over, dragging in deep breaths. “Give me a minute,” he muttered.

  Sounds of gunfire cut through the night. Dale straightened. “Head for the hillside. High ground. Safer there, until we can assess what the hell is going on.”

  They climbed the hillside to a tree-lined plateau and sat on the rocky ground in a tall clump of grasses. Intermittent sounds of small arms being fired continued, the acrid stench of sulfur accompanying each volley of gunfire.

  “I’m not taking chances with you,” Dale said to her.

  Keira didn’t answer. She dug into his pack and withdrew a granola bar. Moonlight glinted off the slave bracelet as she fished one out for him, as well.

  Palming the bracelet, she began to eat the granola bar in tiny bites. “Coming back here brings back a flood of memories.”

  Dale checked his weapon. “Was the fighting happening while you were living here?”

  “We lived further south, closer to the village. There were stories of a haunted forest, of ghosts....”

  She broke off in midsentence, staring at the two men approaching each other a few yards away. Dale shoved her downward and pointed his weapon.

  But the newcomers showed no interest in anything but each other. The two soldiers raised their rifles and pointed them at each other. Moonlight rippled along their bent, slumped bodies.

  Here, the war had not ended. Here, it continued, a curtain into a bloodied past. Dale watched as the two soldiers fired.

  The crackle of gunfire split the air. Yet it sounded muffled, as if both men fired with suppressors.

  Bullets met their targets. Both men dropped down, their weapons clattering to the rocks.

  Dale held up a hand for his men to wait.

  A minute later, the two soldiers stood, retrieved their weapons and retreated back down the hillside on opposite sides.

  He stared at the dark stains on the ground, blood black beneath the full moon. “They’re fighting a war that’s been long over.”

  “Those men are dead,” Keira said quietly. “They died a long time ago, and now they’re condemned to repeat the same violence, again and again. They’re victims to the Centurions, just like I was.”

  Dale turned to his men. “Sully, I need recon. Now. Find out what you can, what we’re up against.”

  A few minutes later, Sully returned with a dark-haired prisoner dressed in a tattered and bloodstained olive-green uniform. The man had strong features, his well-defined cheekbones hinting of a Mayan ancestry, but his dark eyes were empty.

  A zombie, compelled to do the Centurions’ bidding.

  Sully lowered his weapon and looked at Dale. “This is Juan. He approached me while I was doing recon on the hillside and begged to come with me.”

  “Who are you?” Dale asked.

  “Tell them what you told me,” Sully ordered.

  The man sat down on the ground and began to share his story.

  Juan had once he fought for the Contras. Now, he fought und
er compulsion of the demons.

  “The Centurions killed us and our spirits became trapped, condemned to do their bidding. When the Centurions return and command us to fight, we must pick up arms again and repeat the battle. We’re condemned to fight and keep fighting, without purpose or cause, only because we are slaves to the demons. We can never rest. We can never cease. And soon, there will be more of us.”

  “More of you?” Dale questioned.

  “The Centurions have brought Necromancers from the netherworld, to summon the dead to walk the earth.”

  Keira’s breath hitched.

  Panic entered Juan’s gaze. “I must go. They are calling me.”

  Moving as if in enthralled, the man returned down the hillside.

  “We have to get out of here, find the demons.” Dale scanned the area and then signaled to his men. “Get ready to move out. Sully, you remain here with her. First sign of trouble, teleport her out of here.”

  “No,” Keira said slowly.

  “The hell you say.” He released a deep sigh. “One thing for you to find the source as a wolf, another to remain in this hellhole.”

  “It’s too late.” She pointed at the far side of the plateau, where a line of creatures faced them.

  They didn’t have to worry about finding the demons. Because the demons had found them first.

  Chapter 24

  Fanged creatures, with claws as sharp as dinner knives, advanced toward their group. Around them floated spectral beings—the Centurions. Keira realized they had allowed themselves to become ghosts, knowing the SEALs were out to kill them.

  Dale pushed her down.

  “Stay here and stay down,” he snapped, then gestured to his men to advance.

  Partly hidden by the brush, she watched the ensuing fight.

  Skulls and crossbones. The images flooded her mind as Dale fought, throwing bolt after bolt of power. The Centurions danced away, taunting him. Ghosts flew over, around, insubstantial as mist.

  One bolt sailed through a demon and slammed into a tree, incinerating it.

  Dale was weakening, expending all his energy.

  As he and his team fought, their courage unwavering, she knew what would happen. The Centurions had an army of demons to command, an army Dale would never allow beyond these borders. He would die first.