Raising Hell_A Hellcat World Novel

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by Sharon Hannaford




  RAISING HELL

  A HELLCAT WORLD NOVEL

  BY

  SHARON HANNAFORD

  AUTHOR’S NOTE:

  This novel is set in the City from the Hellcat Series. It can easily be read as a stand-alone novel, but to truly appreciate the characters and the greater story arc I would suggest reading the six books in the Hellcat Series as well.

  For those who have already read the Hellcat Series, the events in this book take place several years after the end of Hellcat Series book 6 and could be seen as a 7th book in the series. This book is told from the perspective of Kyle and Trish Robson: Werewolf Alpha Leaders of the Silver Ridge Pack.

  THE HELLCAT SERIES:

  A Cat’s Chance in Hell (Book One)

  All Hell Breaks Loose (Book Two)

  A Cold Day in Hell (Book Three)

  To Hell and Back (Book Four)

  Come Hell or High Water (Book Five)

  There’ll be Hell to Pay (Book Six)

  HELLCAT SERIES ORIGINS:

  A Short Trip to Hell (e-book format only)

  OTHER BOOKS BY SHARON HANNAFORD:

  The Brightening (Order of Libra Book 1)

  Copyright © 2018 Sharon Hannaford

  Cover Artwork by Erin Kuhle

  All rights reserved

  DEDICATION

  For Ashleigh: You won’t be able to read this for another eleven years or so, but the character of Breanna in this book is shamelessly based on you as a three-year old. Thank you for helping me bring the exuberant Child of Light to life.

  For Robert: Your reaction to me casually telling you: “I almost killed ______ today,” will forever make me laugh. What it is to have an author for a mother……

  For the Hellions: Quite simply, this book wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for the nagging. Love you all.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  To my magical band of mistake-finders; you know this book wouldn’t be half as good without your fine-tuning skills and your passion for helping me build Hellcat’s World into something amazing.

  To all the family, friends and readers who support my work all through the year, even when I’m quiet because I’m mired elbow-deep in plot twists and story arcs while trying to wrangle characters who go off and do things they weren’t supposed to, THANK YOU. You keep me going, especially on the days when going back to an admin job seems like the sane option.

  To my resident house-messer-uppers – I love you (especially now that two of you are getting old enough to help un-mess-up the house a little).

  PROLOGUE

  A hundred sounds vibrated across her eardrums: a grub inching through the dank earth at her feet; a hare, frozen in terror at the base of the elm tree to her left, its heart a rapid drumbeat; the snap of leathery wings that beat the night air as a bat patrolled the air currents somewhere above her.

  A thousand scents filled her nostrils: a long-dead shrew, the rotting wood of a fallen oak, the fear rolling off the frightened hare.

  Her keen eyes roved the thick forest around her, everything bathed in the unearthly russet glow of a blood moon.

  Something was coming.

  She knew it.

  She didn’t know what, and she didn’t know where it would lunge from, but…it was coming.

  Her own heartbeat grew more rapid as she raised her muzzle to the eerily icy breeze that shivered through the trees. Whispering. Warning.

  The ground was cool and damp beneath the pads of her paws as she waited. Waited to feel the tiniest vibration in the air, to see the faintest flicker of movement. Her ears twitched, flicking to the left then the right. Her mouth fell open as her breathing quickened, her lips drawing back from her fangs as an almost imperceptible growl rumbled up from her chest.

  Run, a voice whispered in her mind. Her body responded, her muscles bunching, claws digging into the earthy leaf litter. But a tiny yip behind her froze her in place. She swallowed down the snarl that threatened to rip from her throat and spun around. The wolf pup looked up at her with large brown eyes, pink tongue lolling from her mouth, her coat darkest brown mixed with pure jet black. She had emerged from a den nestled deep in the undergrowth.

  Mine.

  The word surged inside her, along with a fierce wave of protectiveness.

  Mine.

  Hers to protect, hers to cherish. Hers.

  No, she wouldn’t run away, she couldn’t run away. She would take a stand. She would face the danger regardless of how large or how lethal it was. And she would win, because she had no other choice.

  Hers.

  She nudged the pup firmly back into the den, breathing in its familiar scent. The pup tried to follow her as she turned to leave the snug hollow. She snapped at it, releasing a low growl. The pup jerked back in surprise and shock, flattening her ears and lowering her snout. She repeated the growl, pushing aside the instinct to comfort the pup.

  It was coming.

  She spun and sprang from the den. Ploughing through shrubs and vines, her feet flew over the ground, her senses alert. She would head it off, meet it before it found the den.

  It was coming.

  “Trish. Trish,” a voice called, echoing through the forest, as a warm band fastened around her front leg. “Trish, come, wake up, angel.”

  And she was in her bedroom, in her bed, the sheets tangled around her legs, her breathing harsh, her heart pounding. Kyle’s worried face peered down at her in the semi-dark. He was on his knees beside her on the bed. The tension left her body in a rush as she tried to regain control of her breathing.

  “Are you back with me?” His hand moved from her arm up to her face, cupping one side and stroking her cheek with his thumb. Mutely she nodded, conscious of the sheen of sweat covering her exposed skin as the sharp grip of adrenalin began to fade.

  “You gave me a fright,” Kyle said, changing position to pull her onto his lap. A tiny catch in his voice revealed how concerned he was. She reached to wind her arms around her mate’s neck, revelling in the feeling of security and safety as he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close against him. His heart beat against her ribcage, almost as fast as her own.

  “Sorry,” she said at last, when her breathing had calmed and both their heartbeats had returned to normal. “Nightmare. Just another vivid nightmare. I’m fine now.”

  Kyle’s arms relaxed enough for her to pull away from him a little. He frowned down at her and then reached to one side, flicking on the reading light.

  “These dreams of yours, they’re getting worse. That was more than just a nightmare, angel,” he said, frowning. “Your wolf was in control; you were a hair’s breadth from changing in your sleep. I’ve been trying to wake you for several minutes.”

  “Really?” She was shocked; the whole dream only seemed to have taken a minute.

  “Do you remember the dream this time?” he asked, brushing a damp curl of hair back from her face and tucking it behind her ear. She shivered; the cool air was chilling her sweat-damp skin. Kyle pulled the bedcovers up around her.

  “I…just…” She was struggling to remember what had frightened her. “Danger,” she said at last. “There was danger coming, stalking me. I can’t…” She trailed off, the last fragments of the dream turning to smoke as she tried to grab for them. “I can’t remember,” she said at last.

  “Your wolf was really close to the surface,” Kyle told her. “I could sense that she was feeling protective. What was she trying to protect?”

  A picture of the wolf pup coalesced in Trish’s mind.

  “A…wolf pup,” she said slowly, reaching for the last vestiges of the dream. “We had to protect the pup.”

  “Breanna?” Kyle asked, an edge to his
voice. “She thinks there’s a threat to Breanna?”

  Kyle’s worried words restarted the rapid beating of her heart as a cold knot of anxiety twisted inside her chest.

  “I…I don’t know,” she said, wishing she could remember. “I’m sure it was just a bad dream.”

  “She could be trying to tell you something. Tell us something. You can’t underestimate your wolf, Trish,” Kyle reminded her.

  “I know.” She sighed, suddenly bone-tired. “We’ll be more vigilant, just in case. I’ll check the guard roster in the morning; we can double the guard at the house during the day. We won’t let anything happen to her.”

  “You’re right.” Kyle relaxed, reaching to turn out the light. “Nothing will get near her here. She’s as safe as she can possibly be. It would take an army to get to her.” He settled Trish back against his chest and wrapped his arm around her protectively. Within minutes his breathing evened out.

  It was a long time before Trish finally drifted back into an uneasy sleep.

  CHAPTER 1

  As Trish reached for a six-pack of Breanna’s favourite yogurts from inside the chiller, a male voice caught her attention. Her wolf, almost always restless lately, stilled as though she scented something disquieting in the air. Trish paused with the chiller door still open, pretending to browse the other items as she waited for the man to speak again. He was at the counter talking to the cashier. There was something so tantalisingly familiar…

  It hit her like a bus.

  Brendan.

  The yogurts almost slipped from her hand, but her instincts made her catch them before they could hit the floor. Her wolf growled low and threateningly as the door to the chiller slammed shut.

  The memories came flooding back.

  Brendan. Good-looking playboy with brash charm and a toothpaste-ad smile. The perfect man, the ultimate husband material. He’d had her fooled. Completely and utterly. But when the rage filled his face, the charm disappeared, his grey blue eyes turned hard and uncaring, and his smile became a baring of teeth. He wasn’t nearly so good-looking then.

  His fists were so very hard. Trish knew exactly how hard.

  Contrary to everything she had become in the intervening years, the shame came rushing back in an instant. How had she not seen it coming? How had she allowed it to continue? Why hadn’t she walked away before he put her in hospital?

  Red-hot fury enveloped her as her wolf lunged for control. She would take her revenge, and she would take it now.

  Trish dropped to her knees as the spasms racked her body.

  No, she shouted into the darkness of her mind. No.

  She flung up a mental wall in front of the wolf. Gritting her teeth, she stood against the force of the wolf’s need to rip and kill.

  Think of Kyle.

  Think of Breanna.

  She forced images of the two greatest loves of her life into the forefront of her mind. If she Changed now in the bright interior of an all-night superette with the surveillance cameras trained right on her, there would be no going back for her. Even her team would be powerless to save her. It would be over.

  Not here. Not now.

  She wrestled with her wolf, pitting every ounce of her will against it. She envisioned standing in front of the wolf, throwing up pictures of everything they’d worked to achieve.

  He’s not worth it. This scumbag is not worth losing everything over, she beseeched the wolf through gritted teeth.

  At last, and with poor grace, the wolf gave a final angry growl and capitulated, retreating a few steps and allowing Trish to come back to herself.

  A worried staff member crouched next to her. Trish remembered the girl’s scent; she’d been packing a shelf of toiletries an aisle over from the chillers.

  “Ma’am, ma’am, are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?” The young woman’s concern was a flavour in the air. The door did its little dingle as someone, probably Brendan, left the store.

  “No, no,” Trish assured her, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just a low blood pressure thing. I’m fine now.” She patted the girl’s arm and pushed up from the cold tiled floor, allowing the girl to lend her a steadying hand. She didn’t need it, but she was overly aware of the need to appear perfectly human. “Thank you. I must get home for some medication.” She gave the woman a weak smile and took the yogurts to the counter at the front of the store. She paid quickly and hurried to leave.

  As the warm night air hit her chilled face, she breathed in again, trying to dispel the last of the unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew she would feel rattled for days, if not weeks, after this. In the beginning she thought so often of what she would do and what she would say if she ever ran into him again, but now…things were so different now. Being infected with Lycanthropy had changed everything. As a human she might have been able to give him a small taste of his own medicine, possibly with her kickass friend Gabi as backup, but now…now she could kill him without even trying. And she didn’t have the right to do that, though her wolf might well disagree with her. She would have to hide the fact that she’d come across him too; if Kyle or Derek knew where to find him…well, her mate and her brother would cheerfully put Brendan in a shallow grave and spit on it once they were done.

  She would walk away from this now and deal with her emotional backlash later.

  She would walk away.

  She tucked the yogurts under her arm and passed under the bright lights outside the front of the shop, heading towards the car park. She paused, waiting for a silver sedan to pass her, and immediately knew it was his car. She couldn’t help but look. In the passenger seat sat a young woman, her eyes downturned, her long dark hair covering half her face. But in the bright illumination of the spotlights and with Trish’s supernatural eyesight, the purple bruise under her eye was a stark declaration that Brendan was still up to his old tricks.

  In an instant Trish reversed her decision.

  She knew it was rash, but something had to be done. What he’d done to her had been unforgivable, but she hadn’t stood up to him, hadn’t gone to the police, hadn’t seen that he was punished and forced to change his ways. She’d lied to her own brother, telling him that Brendan had gone to prison for assaulting her, because she’d just wanted to put the whole thing behind her and pretend it had never happened. As if that were truly possible. If this girl was suffering, Trish was also at fault. It was time something changed.

  Spurred into action, she raced to her car, gunned the engine, and sped out after the silver sedan.

  As Trish followed the taillights of the other car down tree-lined avenues, her mind raced with thoughts of what exactly she was going to do when the car came to a halt. She was counting on them going back to wherever Brendan lived now. He’d vacated the apartment he’d lived in when he and Trish were together rather snappily after she’d been admitted to hospital. When she’d recovered, she’d made a point of trying to track him down, more in order to avoid him than to find him, but she’d come up blank.

  Either he was very good at hiding, or he’d come back to town assuming he was now safe. More than once she told herself to turn around and leave things be, but the vision of yet another woman suffering at his hands kept her going. Her greatest fear was that her wolf would take over. As much as she hated Brendan, she didn’t want to be responsible for his death, and she didn’t want to traumatise the other woman more than she already had been.

  Could she do it? Would her wolf understand? The wolf that now paced the edges of her mind, restless and hungry.

  Trish had come a long way since the early days of being infected with the virus. Kyle hadn’t been a Pack Leader when she met him; in fact, he’d never wanted to take up the mantle of leader at all. They’d all grown up so much in the past three years. It was difficult to remember being young and carefree. So much responsibility lay on their shoulders now. She’d had no choice but to step up as the Alpha’s mate, but it hadn’t been a natural fit for
her. She just wasn’t naturally dominant or assertive, though she was constantly striving to improve, and her ability to control her wolf had come on in leaps and bounds. She could even go the occasional full moon without changing into wolf form. It was incredible progress, but would it be enough for what she needed to do tonight?

  All she intended to do was talk to the woman, tell her she didn’t have to put up with it, put the fear of God into Brendan and walk away. But there was that saying about the best-laid plans of mice and men…

  Brake lights flared from the back of the silver car as it turned into a suburban lane. A road sign marked it as a dead end, so Trish pulled her car over beside the main road and cut the engine. She pulled her phone out and texted Kyle to say she’d been held up and would be a bit later than expected; she didn’t want him worrying or trying to track her down. Then she climbed from the car and breathed in the crisp night air. So many scents, the normal, everyday smells of human life: cut grass, home-cooking, rubbish bins and fresh washing. And the more muted undertones from the somewhat repressed natural world: flowering jasmine; playful cats stalking fat, little mice; sleepy birds settling into nests; and the odd scavenging fox.

  Aware that she might attract attention standing around, she jammed her hands into her pockets and hunched her shoulders a little as she made her way onto the lane; just a woman taking an early evening stroll, nothing to see here.

  Silently she reached to commune with her wolf. They had something of a tumultuous relationship, the two of them. The wolf was her polar opposite in almost every way—overtly dominant, quick to anger and first to resort to violence. But they were alike in one very important way. They wanted to take care of people. The people they loved came first and foremost, but anyone else who needed protecting also fell under their umbrella of care. Trish hoped the wolf would understand the need to protect Brendan’s new girlfriend from the knowledge of Werewolves and other dangerous things that go bump in the night. For now, her wolf was quiet and controlled, alert and watchful, but not irrational and not fighting for control. That was a good sign.

 

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