Raising Hell

by Sharon Hannaford

  At no more than four or five months old, the pup was a little malnourished and decidedly feral. Gabi had kept a tight mental rein on it the entire journey, and still it snarled at Kyle every time he changed gear. Razor had been relegated to the rear of the van, along with Mac, and Kyle could imagine him glaring holes through the upholstery. Kyle had entertained himself on the journey back to Haven by arguing with Gabi over whether it was a German shepherd pup or an actual wolf pup. Gabi was absolutely adamant that it was a wolf pup, and he secretly agreed with her, but the debate had been fun. They didn’t get to rile each other very often these days; he was surprised to find that he missed it.

  Trish’s car was already in the driveway when they made it through the gates protecting Haven. The wound on Kyle’s leg was still a searing pain, and several other smaller injuries and some aching muscles vied for the rest of his attention.

  “You are a fierce one,” Gabi muttered, tucking the pup under one arm as they wearily climbed out of the van. She looked a little steadier on her feet, but the swelling over her eye and down her cheek looked awful and was already turning several shades of blue and purple. Kyle was pretty sure she had a cracked cheekbone; a normal human would be on their way to emergency.

  “No,” she said sharply as the puppy took a snap at Mac as he went to close the van door behind her. “If you’re not careful, I’ll put you on the ground and let Razor teach you some manners.”

  The cat in question sat glaring at them and then, with a tail stiffened in annoyance, haughtily preceded them up the stairs to the house. Gabi took a step in the same direction and then stopped, looking down at the pup as her eyes went distant and a thoughtful wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. “Huh…” She trailed off absently.

  “What, Hellcat?” Kyle asked after a few seconds of waiting expectantly.

  She glanced at him, as though surprised to find him and Mac still there, and shook her head slightly. “I’m not sure, I just have a niggling sense of déjà vu, and I can’t quite work out why. I doubt it matters…” She trailed off, tucking the pup back under her arm.

  “Actually, now that you say that…” Kyle moved closer to her, bent down and sniffed the pup, who promptly growled and took a cheeky snap at him. He flinched back just fast enough to evade the needle-sharp teeth.

  “You really do have a way with animals.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone as she tightened her hold a little.

  “That dog—”

  “Wolf,” Gabi corrected.

  Kyle grinned but didn’t capitulate. “It has a strange underlying scent,” he continued. “Razor had that same scent the day you found him. In fact,” he glanced towards the cat waiting impatiently for Trish to open the door; Kyle could hear her approaching footsteps, “I think he still has that scent about him. It’s a subtle one, though, and probably so familiar to us that we don’t even notice it.”

  Gabi cocked her head, frowning. “Really?”

  “It’s the scent of the Lycanthropy virus,” Mac rumbled from behind them, “when the virus has come into contact with oxygen, like when a Werewolf’s blood has been spilled. The scent was all over the place after the fight.”

  “Holy Lord and Lady,” Gabi huffed in surprise. “Damn if you aren’t right, Mac. I’ve never put the two together before. That’s really weird.”

  “What’s weird?” Trish asked, standing at the open doorway, her eyes raking Kyle’s form, narrowed with concern. Razor had already disappeared inside. “Oh my goodness, is that the puppy that bit Callum?”

  “But what does that mean?” Trish was kneeling on the lounge carpet, trying to make sense of Kyle’s words as she finished bandaging the horrific-looking bite wound on his leg. Her wolf was pacing restlessly enough to make logical thought difficult. “Why would Razor smell of Werewolf blood after all these years?” Bizarrely her wolf had become more upset since arriving back at Haven, despite knowing everyone was okay, if a little battle-worn.

  “Razor’s mother and littermates were killed by a group of rogue Werewolves Kyle and I were hunting,” Gabi chipped in.

  Trish looked over at her friend, who was standing close beside the pup as it wolfed down a large plate of raw meat, and winced again. Gabi’s face looked terrible; she really should see Jonathon. At least she’d taken the elephant-strength painkillers Trish had offered her. “We found them after the Hunt, and he was the only survivor. It’s possible Razor got some blood on him from one of them.”

  Kyle caught Trish’s hand and gave it a grateful squeeze as she packed everything back into the emergency kit and collected the bloody swabs.

  “If it was just on him, why does he still have the scent about him all these years later?” Kyle asked Gabi. “It’s more likely that Razor bit one of them. Ingested the blood. It would explain a few things…” He drifted off, and everyone’s eyes were drawn to the overly large cat, who was casually cleaning himself on a nearby windowsill.

  “Well, we know the pup bit a Werewolf.” Mac, as usual, was standing with his back to a wall, his arms folded and his expression unreadable. “Callum won’t be so quick to approach strays after this.”

  Trish was just glad that Callum was a Werewolf and had already been on his way to Jonathon for the resetting of his broken arm. He’d be out of action for a day or two but wouldn’t have any serious side effects from the bite.

  “And there’s still the mystery of how a wolf pup ended up in an alleyway in the middle of the City, all alone.” Gabi lifted the ice pack back to her swollen face, but she never took her eyes off the pup as it sat licking the last of the meat juices from the plate with a happy wag of its tail. “I guess it doesn’t really matter right now. We’re all too tired for coherent thought.” She lifted the skinny pup and made her way over to an empty sofa the farthest from Kyle and Trish, folding herself wearily into it and allowing the pup to nestle into her lap. “Well, wolf or not, Werewolf blood or not, we have to figure out what to do with him. And I don’t think rehoming is an option.”

  “Pizzas are here,” Derek called out from the hallway just as the scent of mozzarella, tomato and oregano wafted through the house.

  Trish’s stomach growled in response, and all worries of the pup vanished for a moment. “I’ll get plates and drinks.” She pushed off the floor, taking the medical kit back to the kitchen with her.

  “I thought I heard you all.” Flora’s words were almost swallowed by an enormous yawn as the girl joined her in the kitchen. She was dressed in blue sleep shorts and an oversized T-shirt with a fuzzy penguin on the front. Trish’s wolf inexplicably became even more restless and agitated. It was taking some effort to ignore her anxiety.

  “Sorry to wake you, sweetheart,” Trish apologised. “We would’ve gone to the Hive, but we’ve got everyone available for duty patrolling the streets. We didn’t want to leave Sicarius on duty here alone.”

  “You didn’t wake me,” Flora said, rubbing her eyes. “I was just finishing my assignment.” The girl helped her pile plates, glasses, and some cans of soda and energy drinks onto a tray.

  “How did your evening out go?” Trish asked, remembering the girl’s plans to go out with Deshane. She tried her best to make the question sound nonchalant.

  Flora ducked her head a little, setting her braids to swinging. “Oh, it was just…it was nice.” Flora couldn’t stop the smile. “He’s a real gentleman, even had me home by ten.”

  “Really?” Trish was surprised.

  “He knew I had an assignment to finish. He also has a heavy study load; he understands.”

  “And Sicarius?” Trish opened the pantry cupboard to find a bottle of red wine; it looked like Gabi could use a glass. “Did he give you some space?”

  “Hmmmm,” Flora hedged. “He wasn’t too bad, I guess. At least he didn’t sit at the same table as us.”

  Trish chuckled ruefully. “Give him time; he’ll come around.” She handed Flora the wine and a bottle opener and picked up the tray.

  The girl sighed. “I know.” Then she g
iggled. “I went from having no father to having, like, four of them. The struggle is real.”

  “What struggle is that?” Gabi asked as Flora went to place the bottle of wine on the table beside her.

  “Too many paternal parental units.” Flora injected amused disgust into her voice.

  Gabi opened her mouth to respond but a low growl interrupted her.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Flora exclaimed, “is that a puppy?”

  Trish almost dropped the tray she was about to set down beside the stack of steaming pizza boxes as she saw Flora stretch her hand out towards the pup.

  Kyle and Gabi reacted simultaneously. Gabi clamped her hand down over the pup’s muzzle just as Kyle lunged across the room and stayed Flora’s hand.

  “NO,” Gabi said sharply, wrestling briefly with the pup, whose eyes were ablaze with fierce protectiveness. Kyle tugged Flora back as Gabi brought the young wolf back under control.

  “Friend,” she told it, letting go of its snout, turning and lifting it so that it was eye to eye with her. “No biting.” It grumbled unhappily at her for a second, trying to wriggle free. “I mean it.” Gabi gave it a tiny shake. Aside from Razor, who had jumped off the windowsill and was stalking silently closer to the pair, everyone else in the room was frozen. The wolf was barely half grown, and scrawny to boot, but he could still inflict some serious damage, as Callum could attest. Gabi, however, didn’t show any trace of fear, her eyes hard with assertion. The pup finally capitulated, relaxing in her grip and leaning forward to give her a submissive lick on the chin.

  “Sorry,” Gabi said to Flora, resettling the pup on her lap, but keeping a wary hand near his scruff. “He’s still quite feral. You’ll have to excuse his lack of manners.” The room took a collective deep breath, and Derek patted Flora’s shoulder as Kyle released her.

  “Aren’t you happy about those parental units now?” he teased her, knowing full well that he was lumped in with the group of annoying father figures. Flora stuck a tongue out at him, but the lack of a snarky comeback betrayed her alarm.

  Sicarius joined them as they tucked into the food, the smell of the pizza luring him in from his outside patrol. Trish used the silence while everyone loaded up on cheese and carbs to try to calm her upset wolf; she had the feeling she’d be having nightmares again tonight.

  Ten minutes later the pizza boxes were almost empty, and Trish felt the fuzziness in her brain beginning to clear, giving her the strength to shut away the wolf’s bizarre uneasiness. Flora’s eyelids were drooping as she sat on the floor with her back to the long sofa, well away from Gabi and the pup.

  Derek stood, collecting the empty boxes. “I’m off home, I have an early class, but I’ll be in after that,” he declared. “The rest of you need to get some sleep. Between Riley and these Ghouls…” He left the sentence hanging.

  Trish stood and gave Flora a hand up off the floor, kissing her cheek and shoving her off in the direction of the stairs. Kyle walked to see Derek out, and Trish was relieved to see that he was barely limping; despite its severity, the wound would be almost healed by morning. Mac and Gabi began to tidy up; the pup was sound asleep on the sofa, snoring ever so softly and looking as peaceful and cute as any pup should. Razor had taken the opportunity to curl up on the sofa Trish and Kyle had just vacated.

  Sicarius helped Trish take cans and boxes to the recycling bins in the garage.

  “I know you have a lot on your plate,” he said as he held a lid open for her; his face was unreadable. Trish got the sense that he was still sore about being kept in the dark over Riley’s visit. “But I think that if Flora is getting more serious about this Deshane boy, you might want to do some background checking on him.”

  “Oh.” Trish was taken by surprise by the direction of his thoughts. They’d run a basic check on all of Flora’s classmates at the beginning of term, as well as her lecturers and other staff, and no red flags had turned up. “Are you worried about him? Has he done or said anything?” She was instantly concerned.

  “No, no, don’t get yourself worked up.” He shook his head, looking annoyed with himself. “I should just have gone to Murphy direct. I don’t want to add to your worries.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him, “and we’ll run a full, in-depth check on him tomorrow. It’s a very good idea, one I should have thought of already.”

  “Shit.” Gabi’s curse from the kitchen grabbed their attention. “Have you seen the pup?” Her friend rushed into the garage. “He was in the kitchen three seconds ago. Damn, he’s quick.”

  Trish froze; as a Werewolf she wasn’t worried about a wolf pup, but…

  Gabi spun on her heel and rushed to the lounge. “Raz, did you see where he went?”

  The large cat sat up and blinked once at Gabi.

  “Upstairs,” Gabi growled, already heading in that direction, Trish and Sicarius hot on her heels.

  Breanna’s door was open, and Gabi rushed straight in, stopping so suddenly that Trish collided with her, sending her friend stumbling forward. They caught at each other and stood transfixed at the scene in the room as she heard Sicarius stop at the doorway behind them. Breanna was awake, sitting up in bed as the soft, pink glow from her nightlight painted the room with rosy hues. She smiled at them brightly, but there was a sleepy cast to her eyes as though she had only just woken.

  “Mama, Aunty Gabi,” she whispered then turned her head away from them. “See my new friend?”

  Trish stopped breathing, her heart bursting into a staccato pounding in her chest. The wolf pup sat on the bed less than a foot from Breanna, staring directly into her face.

  “Br—” Trish tried to find her voice.

  “Shhh…” Gabi said in an aside to her, reaching surreptitiously to grip Trish’s hand, reiterating the demand to be still.

  “But—” she began to protest.

  “Look at him; read his posture,” Gabi said, still in a low tone.

  Trish swallowed hard but did as Gabi asked. The pup didn’t look threatening; his tongue was lolling from his mouth, one ear stood straight up while the other flopped over at the tip, and he was looking at Breanna in a way Trish could only think of as adoring. Her heartbeat slowed a fraction.

  “Angel,” Gabi spoke a little louder, “what are you doing awake?”

  “I heared him.” The little girl’s attention was focused squarely on the pup, and her voice was filled with wonder. “He finded me.” She finally turned her head to look at them. Her face was radiant with joy. “He is happy now.”

  The pup suddenly lunged forward, and time stood still, Trish’s body frozen to the spot, unable to respond. Gabi’s grip on her wrist tightened, in warning or in alarm, Trish wasn’t sure. The pup began to enthusiastically lick Breanna’s face, setting the little girl to giggling. She wrapped her arms around his skinny neck and said, “Can he sleep wif me?”

  CHAPTER 10

  “So…to summarise,” Derek slid his hand around the steaming mug Trish pushed his way, “we have Ghouls that aren’t acting Ghoul-like and seem to be ramping up whatever the hell they’re doing, we have Riley still stashed in a hotel room waiting for an answer, your wolf is more restless than ever, and Breanna kept you awake most of the night crying to be allowed to keep the hellhound.”

  Trish drained the last dregs of her own coffee and nodded. Exhaustion had sapped all her normal energy; tiredness was making her eyes gritty and her lids heavy.

  “It was a good thing Gabi took it home with her,” she said. “Otherwise I might just have capitulated and let her have the damned thing.” The little girl had finally cried herself to sleep, with her arms wrapped around a distressed Slinky, a little after three in the morning. Trish wouldn’t have believed it possible for her to be so upset about an animal she’d known all of five minutes. She couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more going on than just a child wanting a pet.

  “Why don’t you go back to bed? Kyle and I can hold down the fort for a few hours.” Derek said it lightly, but sh
e could hear the edge of worry in his voice. “Kimberley can come and help around the house; she has a few spare hours today.” Derek’s wife was lovely; she was a Shape-shifter, a rare one who could imitate people, sometimes known as a Doppelganger. She’d done some questionable things in her youth, but a bad experience had utterly changed her view of the world. She absolutely adored Derek and had thrown herself body and soul into their joint venture: the Reeves Youth Centre, a place of both education and recreation for children and teens in the supernatural community, with a sideline in women’s self-defence classes. Trish knew she had her hands full, though she appreciated the offer.

  “No, I’m okay,” Trish assured him. “I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep now anyway. And I need to go into work for a few hours. There’s a really big project that’s nearing completion.” The Alliance needed to be funded; some of it came from the coffers of Pack finances, much of that generated by their various business interests, but Trish and Murphy also headed up a software consultancy, which they ran from the CenOps bunker, using any downtime from Alliance duties. It was a tidy money earner. “Steve is free to help, and I need to get him up to speed. That’ll give me some breathing room.”

  Steve was another of the humans who had been drawn into the supernatural world along with Murphy. He’d gone by the name Mastermind at the time, his specialty was electronics, but he was a great programmer as well. He refused to be tied down to full-time employment, some kind of problem with having a boss, but he could usually be convinced to come in and help on a casual basis when things got crazy.

  Derek grunted his approval. “What are you going to do about Breanna and the pup?”

  Trish pulled a face. The little girl was still asleep after her long emotional outburst, but would probably wake soon, and Trish would put good money on the chance that she would immediately remember the pup and start crying again.

  “Gabi said she’d come around this morning with the pup if that’s what we wanted. She thinks the pup has a connection with Bree, something like what she has with Razor, and that the pup won’t hurt her. The main problem is controlling it around others. He’s so young and feral he doesn’t understand who is friend and who is foe.”