Raising Hell_A Hellcat World Novel

Home > Other > Raising Hell_A Hellcat World Novel > Page 7
Raising Hell_A Hellcat World Novel Page 7

by Sharon Hannaford


  “Fine, but only if she agrees to wear handcuffs. You’ll be vulnerable while driving. It’s that or the isolation bay.”

  Trish heard the air of finality in his voice and knew that time was too precious to waste arguing. She nodded, and he turned to Riley.

  “You can wear our special brand of handcuffs and go with Trish, or I can lock you in our isolation room until we’ve cleaned up the problem in the City. Your choice.”

  “Small spaces and I don’t get along very well, so I’ll take the handcuffs,” Riley agreed quickly, also rising to her feet.

  Kyle gave Ben a small nod, and the Werewolf left the room at a dead run. Butch followed him out while Callum remained behind, his eyes never leaving the intruder.

  “Bring her to the car out front,” Trish told Callum over her shoulder as she followed Kyle out the door. She caught her mate’s arm in the cool darkness of the corridor and spun him towards her. “Come home safe,” she told him, pressing a fierce kiss to his mouth.

  He gripped her waist for just a moment, pressing her body up against his own. “Always,” he replied, and then he was gone.

  Trish turned and hurried out the front door of Pack quarters, sprinting for the main house.

  CHAPTER 5

  The van’s engine whined a little as Kyle pushed it into the red. He wasn’t taking the shortest route, but by using the outskirts of the City, he could push the speed without worrying about patrolling cops. He didn’t have the advantage of human mind control that some Vampires had. Lucky bastards.

  He glanced in the rear-view mirror to check that Butch was still behind him. He needn’t have worried; Butch was an excellent driver and had raced cars professionally after he retired from the army and before he was bitten by a rogue Werewolf. Kyle was glad the man had asked to join the Silver Ridge Pack after the disbandment of the SMV, the City’s original supernatural law enforcement council that had been founded by Gabi’s father. Butch had fitted into the Pack seamlessly and was one of Kyle’s most trusted advisors; they’d been through a lot together, including some tough missions with Gabi and Julius. There had been times when they’d lost good people.

  There had been a period when the Magi were weak and their numbers severely diminished, leaving the City vulnerable to infiltration from demons from the Etherworld, a parallel dimension inhabited by awful creatures who honoured nothing but death and chaos. But over time the Magi had recovered, and they’d rebuilt the Veil, the barrier between worlds, even stronger than before, and the tide of evil and chaos had ebbed. Life had turned calm in the City; disturbances were few and of mostly mundane causes, easily dealt with.

  But none of them ever truly relaxed. The Pack Alphas, Julius and Gabi, the Magi—they all knew that each uneventful day was a blessing, and that at some point true evil would once more stalk the City. Kyle wondered if tonight was the night they’d been waiting for.

  A part of his brain shot off on a side tangent, flashing Riley’s face in his mind. Could it be true? Could there be another person like him? Someone born a Werewolf? And if there was one, what about others? Could there be born-wolves scattered across the country? The world?

  His phone rang, chasing Riley from his mind.

  “How far away are you?” Gabi’s voice was muffled by the roar of the van’s engine, but he knew immediately that she was already there, and that it was every bit as bad as they’d anticipated. He and Gabi had been in situations like this so many times that he understood every nuance in her tone.

  “About three minutes,” he answered. “What are we hunting? Do you know yet?”

  There was a heartbeat’s pause. “Ghouls. We think it’s Ghouls,” Gabi said at last. He could almost hear the gritting of her teeth.

  “Fuck.” Kyle didn’t curse often; Gabi usually swore enough for both of them. “Did you bring any flame-throwers?” It was one thing he hadn’t thought to pack.

  Gabi snorted in amusement. “I brought Julius.”

  A humourless grin tugged at Kyle’s mouth. “He’ll do.” Gabi’s Vampire Consort was not only a Master Vampire but also a powerful Magus. One of his stronger gifts was Fire-bending. “Don’t start the fun without us,” he told her.

  “Hurry up,” she said, and the call disconnected. He released the breath he’d been holding, and it came out as a deep growl. The anxious weight in his chest grew heavier. Not because Ghouls were hard to kill, or even overly dangerous except in large numbers, but because their presence meant that demons once again had found a portal through the Veil from their cursed dimension directly into the City. And that was very, very bad news. His thoughts took a dark turn as Breanna’s mischievous face popped into his mind. He could never, ever forget that there were demons who could track anything, anywhere, and that those demons had sworn to eliminate the preordained Child of Light. Their little Breanna.

  He would make it a priority for the Magi to recheck the shield wards they’d constructed around Haven. They would be taking no chances with her safety.

  He swung the van into the semi-dark parking area of a run-down motel heading out of the City. Two black SUVs and a silver sedan were parked in the darkest corner. Kyle pulled in alongside them as Butch did the same. Leaping from the van, already armed with several daggers, he quickly sheathed a short sword and shoved two dart guns into holsters at his waist along with several packs of liquid-filled darts. The contents of each dart was clearly identifiable by colour: red tranquilised a Werewolf, silver killed one if you got it in the heart, yellow brought down a Vampire long enough to cuff or kill it, blue sedated anything as human as a Magi or Shape-shifter, and purple…he hadn’t used purple for nearly three years… They were filled with the Lycanthropy virus, deadly to demons.

  With a quick word to Butch, who was still gearing up, he jogged to find the others. Despite the presence of a cold, blustery wind, their scent trail was easy to track. He followed his nose around to the back of the multi-storied motel, over a sagging barbed-wire fence and onto what appeared to be an unused railway line. From here he could make out a small group of figures in the darkness ahead and jogged to catch up.

  Gabi turned at his approach. Nex, her short sword with the distinctive wavy blade, was in her right hand. While she would be packing a dart gun like almost everyone else, Nex was always her weapon of first choice; the blade was like an extension of her arm. Julius, on Gabi’s left, nodded a silent greeting. Unlike everyone else, Julius wouldn’t be armed. Julius didn’t need weapons; he was a walking weapon. As always, Kyle’s wolf responded to the Vampire by trying to shoulder his way forward, fur bristling, fangs showing. Kyle didn’t have a problem reining him in, but wished he’d finally get over the knee-jerk reaction. They’d known Julius for almost four years, but there was just something overpoweringly feral and dangerous about the man. Kyle trusted the Master Vampire with his own life, as well as Gabi’s and anyone else he cared about, but his mere presence was enough to cow almost everyone, norm or supernatural, and his proximity never failed to riled the wolf in an Alpha.

  The only person Kyle knew who seemed impervious to the ‘Julius effect’ was Gabi. She genuinely didn’t understand why others found him so immensely intimidating. But then this was Gabi. Kyle wasn’t sure anything in this world, or any other, could intimidate Hellcat. He was pretty sure that when she was created, they’d somehow forgotten to add in the fear gene.

  “Kyle,” Gabi called tensely, beckoning him forward with a quick flick of the blade.

  As he joined the group, the others gave him quick nods of acknowledgement. Razor, at her left knee, gave Kyle a habitual growl of greeting. Joshua Maclary, a grizzled veteran of a Vampire, was, as always, on Gabi’s other side. The man had taken it on himself to be Gabi’s shadow as far as she would allow. It was Mac, as everyone knew him, who had designed and helped make many of the weapons they now used for Hunting, the dart gun being the most popular.

  Fergus was in front of the group, the Scotsman was a Master-level Vampire in his own right, and Julius had been tr
ying to convince him to Challenge for his own city and form his own Clan for years, but the stubborn Scot refused to comply. Kyle personally liked that Fergus was also around watching Gabi’s back; he was almost as formidable as Julius himself. And Fergus was utterly committed to protecting Breanna. The Scotsman had been the one to save the baby girl from the fire that almost killed her the day she was born. The two of them had a special connection and a bond that was obvious whenever they spent time together; the tiny girl brought out soft edges on a man who was otherwise hard angles sharp enough to slice metal.

  The last member of the team was a middle-aged Magus Kyle recognised as a gifted Tracker; the name Stewart floated into his mind. As soon as the man was assured Kyle wasn’t a threat, he began walking again, his head tilted slightly to one side as though listening with his right ear.

  “We’ve been tracking them by car for about twenty minutes,” Gabi told Kyle, ducking her head out of the prevailing wind to speak. “Now they’ve gone off-road.”

  “How many?” Kyle asked. Footsteps disturbed the gravel behind them as Butch, Ben and Callum caught up.

  “The report said five,” Gabi nodded hello to the other Werewolves as they approached, “but we haven’t had them in sight yet to confirm.”

  “What are they doing out here?” Butch asked. “Don’t Ghouls mindlessly hunt and eat anything that moves?”

  “It’s definitely out of character from what we know of Ghouls, but then there isn’t a whole lot of lore about them. We don’t come across them very often.”

  In the pale light of the half moon, Kyle saw Gabi’s eyes flick to him. He knew she was remembering the last time they’d fought Ghouls. Several years ago demons had turned dozens of humans into some kind of berserker army. The clean-up job had been a bloodbath. Kyle hadn’t been in the midst of it, he was chasing rogue Vampires at the time, but he’d come in at the aftermath, and that was bad enough.

  “What do we do when we find them?” Kyle asked, suppressing the shudder that trailed icy fingers down his spine. Back then they’d found a few freshly bitten humans who hadn’t turned into Ghouls yet; those had been taken to the Magi, who attempted to cure them. Everything they’d tried had failed.

  “Sht,” Stewart warned, holding up a hand. They all froze. The wind whipped around them so fiercely that even Kyle’s acute hearing couldn’t detect anything useful. Up ahead was a small building hugging the side of the rusted railway line. It must have been a train station once upon a time. Now it was run-down, dark and clearly abandoned with tacky graffiti sprayed in layers across the once white walls. “They’re in there,” the Magus confirmed.

  “Mac, Ben, and Callum, you’re outside; cover Stewart and watch for runners,” Gabi told them tersely. No one else would get away with ordering Kyle’s Sentinels around, especially not with Kyle present, but his men didn’t hesitate or even check for their Alpha’s agreement, they knew better. Mac grumbled under his breath, but split off with the Werewolves, ushering the Magus away into a clump of bushes near the fence.

  “Once we’ve confirmed what they are, we’ll incapacitate them, contain what’s left of them inside, and retreat.” Gabi tugged a wind-blown curl of hair out of her eyes and wound it back into the tight bun at the back of her head. “Then Julius can burn the place. The human authorities can deal with it after that.”

  “And then we hunt for the demon responsible.” Julius spoke for the first time; his voice was dark with barely leashed fury. Kyle didn’t point out the fact that there wasn’t a whole lot left of the night; none of them would rest easy until the demon threat had been neutralised and the breach in the Veil sealed.

  Kyle checked his watch; Trish would be at CenOps by now. He reached for the earpiece in his shirt pocket and inserted it into his ear, touching the small transmitter card to activate it.

  “Kyle?” Trish’s voice sounded inside his head. “Is that you?”

  “Yes, have you got a location on us?” he asked her.

  “Murphy is just about… Ah, yes, we’ve got you.” Trish was all business now. He could already picture her with headphones on, concentration narrowing her eyes as her fingers flew over the keyboard on the desk in front of her and the half dozen screens around the room flashed to security footage.

  “We’ve got them trapped in an old station. We’re going in now,” Kyle told her. “Keep the area clear for us.”

  “On it,” Trish replied, with the slightly distracted voice she always had when she was doing multiple things at the same time. “Be careful.”

  She didn’t say the words, but he could hear the ‘I love you’ in her tone, just as she would hear the same sentiment when he replied, “Always.”

  “The eyes and ears should all be ours,” he told the others, knowing that Trish and Murphy would now be in full control of all security cameras and commercial alarms in the immediate vicinity. Nothing that happened here would be seen by human officials until or unless they needed to.

  With nothing in their dart arsenal to combat Ghouls, Kyle and Fergus drew swords while Butch hefted one of Mac’s other inventions, the weighty McChopper, in his right hand. Short of other options, Gabi’s plan to disable and burn was as good as it got. Kyle just hoped something on or about the Ghouls would give them some clue on where to find the demon that spawned them.

  Checking that everyone was in position and all escape routes were covered, Gabi gave a nod. They approached the building like a swift, silent shadow. Kyle and Butch flanked the door, covering the small broken windows to either side as Fergus mounted the concrete station platform, raised one booted foot and kicked the front door in. The weather-beaten wood splintered into fragments, leaving just a narrow section swinging drunkenly from rusted hinges.

  They waited.

  Nothing.

  The wind abruptly ceased blowing, leaving a disturbingly eerie quiet. Even a human could’ve heard a dead leaf hit the ground.

  Nothing rushed at them from the darkness inside. Not a single sound broke the silence.

  Gabi glanced at Kyle; he knew what she was thinking. They’d spent so many hours hunting together, so many hours just being in each other’s company, that they rarely needed to speak in situations like this. Neither of them doubted the Magi’s word, but something weird was going down here. Gabi had the ability to sense some types of supernaturals, though not Magi, Shifters or Ghouls; she suspected it was because they were more human than supernatural. She clearly wasn’t getting anything definite here, but she rubbed the back of her neck as though the cool night air had chilled her. Then she shook herself slightly and glanced up at Julius. Kyle had never outright asked her, but he suspected that she and Julius could communicate telepathically, as in actually hold a conversation in their heads.

  After a moment Julius nodded in answer to her unspoken question. They were going in. They all resettled their weapons in their hands…well, four of them did. Razor slid closer to Gabi’s leg and bristled, appearing even larger than usual, while Julius raised his right hand, palm up, and an instant later a small perfectly round ball of fire appeared, hovering a few inches above his palm.

  They flowed through the door in a dark, steel-edged wave, spreading out like a fan, Julius in the centre. The darkness inside retreated from the unnaturally bright glow of Julius’s fireball, revealing five figures huddled in a group on the stained wooden floor of the station. An horrific smell hit Kyle in the back of the throat hard enough to make him gag. Gabi’s retching sound and Butch’s loud swallow told him he wasn’t the only one affected. His wolf surged forward, agitated by the huddled creatures on the floor. Razor’s low growl filled the small space.

  “Only ain thing smells like tha’,” Fergus rumbled, his Scottish accent more harsh than usual.

  “Death,” Gabi confirmed in a strangled voice.

  “Why are they just sitting there?” Butch choked out. “What’s wrong with them?”

  Kyle was wondering the same thing. He’d heard the recounts of the Ghoul fight, had seen the aft
ermath for himself; they had been like something out of a zombie movie—vicious, ravenous creatures that hadn’t stopped attacking until they were chopped to pieces or burned to ash.

  Julius’s ball of flame wavered and then flitted closer to the group. The five drew back in unison, hissing, sending a jolt of adrenalin coursing through Kyle. They weren’t dead. Their faces remained hidden, turned away from the light, but they didn’t rise or attempt to attack. There was something off with their appearance as well. Their clothing was in surprisingly good condition, though none of them wore shoes, and they didn’t appear as dirty or unkempt as Kyle had expected. The rotting stench was definitely coming from them, however.

  “Maybe they’ve eaten their fill?” Butch suggested. “Like pythons; they’re too sated to move?” It was more question than suggestion.

  “Or they’re too newly infected to have developed the hunger?” Kyle mused aloud. The ones they’d found after they’d cleared the worst of that horrific Ghoul army had been more terrified than terrifying. Well, except for the one who had nearly killed Gabi with a wooden stake.

  “This just feels all kinds of wrong,” Gabi muttered. Razor was still growling.

  “I vote for swift cremation.” Butch’s words were muffled, as one hand covered his nose and mouth, but the McChopper didn’t waver.

  “I second that,” Gabi said, dropping Nex a fraction and taking a step towards the group, “but only after we—” Razor’s growled turned into a high-pitched, warning scream half a second before the Ghouls lurched upward like a single entity and threw themselves at her.

  Gabi stumbled back but took the centre one in the chest with Nex, the blade sliding in with practiced ease. She lifted one foot and kicked the Ghoul backward, retaining her hold on Nex as it lurched away, not at all affected by the wound in its chest. Butch hacked the arms off the one to her right with his spring-loaded axe while Fergus calmly beheaded another on her left with a single stroke of his broadsword.

 

‹ Prev