I Kissed a Dog (Werewolves of the West 1)

by Carol Van Atta

  He’d warned the women about the feral creature that was kept isolated in a secured room turned holding cell. Dillon wanted to ensure it remained in lockdown before leading Connie and Deb out through the back entrance.

  The last they’d seen of Dillon was him sprinting around the corner with a hideously mutated creature pursuing him. Almost to the door, Dillon had slipped. The beast, seizing the opportunity, had grabbed Dillon by the neck and dragged him away.

  At this point, Connie erupted into tears. “He yelled for us to go back inside and lock the door. There was nothing we could do. That thing was like a mutant that had survived a nuclear holocaust. Oh, God, I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”

  I moved to put an arm around her shoulders; she continued to cry, shuddering every few seconds.

  “We were in shock,” Deb continued. “Connie was beyond consoling. I didn’t know what to do. But I knew Dillon would have wanted her to get out. About the same time, that thing returned and started slicing at the door.

  I’m not sure how, but I convinced her we couldn’t allow Dillon’s death to be for nothing, and we made it to the basement. On our way down, I heard something. It was you talking to someone. I called out, but you didn’t answer.”

  “But I did!”

  “Who knows what happened.” Deb shrugged. “The acoustics are off in the shaft. I wanted to get Connie as far away as possible. Then I returned to look for you.”

  I wasn’t sure I could express my gratitude to them, but I tried. “Thank you so much for coming back for me. The dresser was in place, though. That confused me. I thought maybe I was hearing things.”

  Despite Connie’s still flowing tears, Deb chuckled. “Oh, that. I kind of punched a hole in the dresser so I could pull it back into position. I didn’t want to roll out a welcome mat to our getaway route.”

  I nodded, my thoughts already flipping to the next phase of our escape. “We have to leave and join the others. They need us.” I couldn’t stand the thought of remaining down here with Zane and my other friends fighting for our lives.

  “No! We can’t! What if Dillon is still alive?” Connie blurted, surprising us both with her outburst.

  I glanced at Deb, uncertain how to handle Connie’s resistance.

  Understanding my dilemma, Deb responded. “Babe, we need to get out of here. There is no way Dillon could have taken that thing down. I have no clue where it came from or why Jazmine kept it imprisoned here, but we don’t want to end up anywhere near it. Dillon would never have wanted you to involve yourself. He wanted you free.”

  Connie stared up at the ceiling. “No, I can’t just leave him. The beast came back to the door when Chloe was inside. That was right after we entered the shaft. Maybe it put Dillon aside for dinner later on.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe it wanted to capture us all before mealtime.”

  I hated to admit it, but she had a point. If it was Zane, wouldn’t I want to be sure?

  “I’ll compromise,” Deb stated. “We go and get help from one of Chloe’s friends, and then we look for Dillon.”

  “What if we’re too late?” Connie pleaded.

  Deb countered, “We can’t beat that thing alone. We need help. We’re wasting time arguing.”

  “Let’s go already!” Connie half-shrieked. She leapt to her feet, tossed my arm aside, and glanced around the room a final time. Then, without warning, she charged to the far corner, and loped with inhuman grace up the stairs with Deb on her heels.

  I caught up with them as they opened the door at the top. We all stood, just listening. It was obvious the battle was still underway by the woeful wails of the dying, and the vicious victory roars.

  “We need a plan,” I whispered, afraid they’d shift into their mutant forms before we decided our best course of action. I was just in time.

  Connie whipped her head around, her eyes glowed red. “Kill Jazmine and everyone fighting on her side. That’s my plan,” she snarled.

  Almost afraid to answer, I offered a compromise. “Sounds like a good plan, but we can’t just dash out there like madmen, women,” I amended. “There are two purebreds besides Jazmine that are not on our side. Logan and James McQuillen are with her now. I’ll identify them as soon as I can. Try to gather any …”

  Midsentence, my friends, thrilled by the extensive violence, and no longer able to contain their bloodlust, morphed into the mutants I so feared. Without a glance my direction, they bolted toward the raging bonfire, leaving me in the shadows alone.

  Cautious, I picked my way through the grass, staying close to the school’s wall. No one would expect to find me out here. That was something in my favor.

  With my back pressed against the cool concrete, I slowed my breathing for what felt like the millionth time, counted to ten, and I launched myself into Stryder’s mind. I located the ideal vantage point behind his eyes, and made sure to block my presence, making certain not to disrupt his efforts, which had paid off noticeably during the time I’d been absent.

  He’d organized the defectors and they were advancing stealthily against their former companions.

  Bodies and bloody entrails were strewn across the field. I retched, unable to handle the choking stench of blood and smoldering flesh. It seemed the welcoming flames had served as a wicked and effective weapon of deathly destruction.

  I tore my attention away from the surrounding horrors, and using Stryder’s keen eyesight and heightened senses, intently sought a glimpse of my mate. It was plain, despite the carnage, our side was winning. A hint of relief heightened my emotions, providing my first twinge of optimism in a long while.

  David and his bald men stood steadfast, arms crossed, along the sidelines. Every few seconds, for no observable reason, a mutant would crumple to the ground. I suspected David and his kin were using mental powers similar to my own.

  Misty was standing, shoulders thrown back, in scary-wolf monster form on a small mountain of bodies, her howls declaring victory.

  Alcuin and Valamir, the two lone vampires, were fighting back to back, brandishing gore-stained blades, and slicing through any rival that dared approach.

  Where was Zane?

  I counted Mack, Michael, and a purebred I assumed was Rita. They were bloodied, but still fighting impressively. Connie and Deb had joined Styder’s group and were making serious headway.

  Still no Zane; it was as if he’d vanished from the scene, but I knew he wouldn’t leave me or his pack mates behind.

  An unexpected feeling of despair intruded, demolishing my confidence and drowning the pleasure I’d felt watching my entourage as Valamir referred to them, kick some serious mutant ass.

  Chloe … a choked voice whispered into my mind. Is that you? So faint were the words, they barely registered.

  Uncertain, I swung to the left and spotted a solitary figure I’d missed at first glance. The person was sprawled on the ground near a tree. Tentacles of incoming fog hovered over the area where he lay, making it difficult to see.

  I looked closer.

  Zane? No! It couldn’t be.

  He was twisted in an unnatural position but had managed to shift back into a human.

  Without thought for my own safety, I half ran half stumbled to his fallen form, collapsing on my knees beside him. I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the cries of anguish fighting to explode. My mate had taught me well. Even as I stared at his broken and brutalized body, I had enough sense to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

  Understanding that talking would be impossible in his condition, I entered his thoughts. Zane. Oh. My. God. What can I do? You can’t die. I won’t let you. I love you. I need you.

  Press your mating mark against mine. Legend says this will heal ...

  Unable to finish his instructions, a rasping spasm tore through his chest. Blood spewed from his mouth and nose.

  “You will not die! I forbid it!” I heard myself shout as panic threatened to override my senses. I refused to succumb to the old Chloe’s fainting-in-a-t
ime-crisis routine.

  I needed to think, to focus. Becoming hysterical was not an option.

  Zane wanted me to do something simple. I struggled to organize my jumbled thoughts.

  Our marks. He wanted me to join our mating marks.

  Spurred to action, I yanked off my shoe and sock and was pushing up my pant leg when Jazmine, in her wolf form, skidded to a stop behind Zane. She changed shapes and faced me as a flawless naked woman, hands on her narrow hips.

  “Isn’t that sweet. You were going to activate the healing process,” she paused for effect. “Well, I don’t think so! If I can’t have him; you won’t!”

  “Just take me,” I pleaded. “Isn’t that what you wanted all along? Me out of the picture? Then you can have Zane as a mate; you can use the coins to give him eternal life. You love him, remember?”

  No! I will never touch her. Don’t do this! I. Forbid. It.

  Ignoring Zane, I made myself look up and meet Jazmine’s crimson eyes.

  The smug look of defiance pasted across her face flipped a switch inside me. Inhuman fury boiled to the surface and overflowed, giving me the burst of inner strength I needed to resist.

  Without effort, I fired a mental missile into her scheming brain with such efficiency and force it blasted her onto her ass; her feet flew from beneath her. She collided with a breath-sucking thump against a trio of boulders. What sounded like bones cracking followed.

  Scooting myself next to Zane, I prepared to press my marks, now glowing amber, against his.

  Out of the mist came Logan Sanders.

  Snarls and guttural growls preceded The Alpha leaping at me as if he’d sprouted wings; his claws extended, and lips curled back, with unrestrained hostility. His fangs appeared more lethal than a saber-toothed tiger’s.

  Terrorized, I lost my mental grip on Jazmine, who though unsteady, grappled to her feet as another massive wolf plummeted into Logan, forcing him onto his back.

  Logan responded fiercely, knocking his attacker off. The two rolled, each one struggling for purchase. Jazmine, to my amazement, backed away and fled.

  Now! Zane’s pain-laced roar spurred me into action.

  With speed I didn’t know I was capable of, I wrested my pant leg up and pushed Zane’s over his knee. His sigils were writhing, welcoming mine. Instead of amber, they shone black.

  I pressed my calf against his and watched in amazement as our marks intertwined, tattooing an extra, matching ring of sigils around our ankles. His turned the same vibrant color as mine.

  “You did it, Princess,” he said, his voice steady and strong, and his eyes glowing with pride.

  “I did, didn’t I?”

  Healed by deep magic I couldn’t begin to comprehend, he pulled me into a long-awaited embrace, and kissed me. First tenderly, and then more insistent, his mouth ravaging mine. Running my fingers through his hair, I heard myself whimper his name.

  Momentarily sated and with a look filled with promised pleasures, he lifted me to my feet, where I clung to him, unwilling to let go. Losing him wasn’t an option.

  “Well, Zane, are you prepared to be our Alpha?” asked a masculine voice.

  Staring up at the moon, Zane looked thoughtful. “I can’t ignore that destiny has made my purpose so obvious, old friend,” he said, serious.

  Seeing it was James McQuillen who’d spoken so casually to Zane, sent a jolt of electricity down my spine; I readied my torpedoes. Target, the betraying bastard’s manipulating mind. This Judas wouldn’t have a chance to hang himself. I’d beat him to it.

  Zane, sensing my intention, pressed his lips to my hair. “He’s one of the good guys.”

  Staggered by this latest revelation, I intruded into McQuillen’s thoughts.

  He didn’t erect any barriers, allowing me to snoop through his mental file cabinet. My findings confirmed Zane’s statement. He was one of the good guys.

  “Logan’s dead,” McQuillen stated what I was already well aware of. The Indian had defeated Logan, returning Zane to his rightful position as Pacific Pack’s Alpha.

  Naked and torn apart, Logan’s blood soaked the ground around him.

  I couldn’t help replaying what he’d so cruelly said to his sister. Something about her blood nourishing the soil. He’d picked the wrong Sanders sibling. Misty Sanders was just fine, alive and breathing. Her big brother, not so much.

  Coincidently, at the moment, Misty, along with our core group, was trudging across the schoolyard; a sizeable crowd of women and a few men who had surrendered in tow. I’d examine their motives later to ensure their future loyalty to our pack.

  Our pack, I thought, inwardly cheering. I was married/mated to a pack leader. Who would have visualized predictable me as part of a werewolf pack?

  On a somewhat less pleasant note, I still had some in-depth questions for Alcuin about his loyalty, or lack thereof, but they could wait. He’d come through for us in the end. That’s what mattered.

  “Where’s Jazmine?” someone asked.

  It was then I remembered she’d disappeared during Logan and James McQuillen’s fatal clash. “Oh, no! I think she got away.”

  “She couldn’t have gone far!” Stryder barked. “Let’s spread out. Find her! If our new alpha agrees, of course.” He inclined his head in honor of Zane’s position.

  “To our new alpha!” Misty shouted. She dropped to her knee in reverence.

  I watched in amazement as both werewolves and the remaining mutants bowed in submission, accepting and acknowledging Zane as the uncontested leader of a new, more diverse pack, a pack where purebreds and mutants would work and live together as one family.

  Being a bi-racial woman with supernatural powers, I was for the all-new, all-inclusive Pacific Pack.

  Our victory celebration was cut short, not by a search for Jazmine, but a thundering roar that raged louder than any lion, tiger, bear, mutant, or werewolf.

  Working at an animal park, I knew that a male lion’s roar could be heard up to five miles away, the loudest of any big cat. What I was hearing far surpassed anything I’d ever heard, including the King of the Jungle.

  I realized right then we wouldn’t have to hunt Dillon’s killer.

  It was hunting us.

  Chapter 4829

  Misty responded first. Blasting into the air, she shifted into a wolf before her front paws hit the ground.

  The nearby air swelled and rippled as the others followed her example, morphing into their fighting forms and circling their prey, a predator unlike any they’d faced before.

  The newly formed pack radiated a sense of confidence that came from having the numbers advantage.

  Our increased numbers offered me little assurance.

  I’d been inside the creature’s mind. Its sole purpose was to kill. There would be no reasoning. No surrender. Its death alone would stop its murderous cycle. God only knew why Jazmine had kept the monster in her possession.

  I needed to find the answer, and with it, the means to crush her rabid pet.

  Zane glanced from the menacing demon back to me. I didn’t need any mindreading skills to decipher his thoughts: Stay here. Stay back. We’ll handle it.

  I nodded, well aware I would be disappointing my mate for what I hoped would be the final time.

  The pack bordered the demon. There were no other words but hell-spawned demon ¯ to describe what we faced. Demonic might prove too kind a description by the night’s end.

  A thunderous bellow erupted from the fiend’s mouth.

  Even from my position I could see its lethal fangs. Several rows of what resembled ice picks lined its cavernous maw. A thick tongue-like appendage rolled from its mouth, reminding me of a humungous frog seeking to capture an unsuspecting insect.

  If I had any control over the outcome, no one I knew would end up in its protruding and malformed midsection.

  To make matters worse, my thoughts flashed to Dillon. The idea that Dillon, or a part of him, was being digested inside the beast revolted me. I swallowed t
he bile rising in my throat. I would not allow myself to think about the slain guard. Any mourning would have to wait. Connie was doing enough of that already. I needed to think about locating Jazmine and bringing a rapid conclusion to this monster-sized problem.

  Closer inspection revealed three sets of arms protruding from either side, all ending with scissor-sharp claws. I had no doubt the extent of damage those claws could render. I didn’t have to wait long to see the results.

  One of the new mutant converts lunged, reaching for the beast’s throat. For the briefest moment I was fooled into thinking the creature was embracing its attacker. An instant later, all six arms sliced across the mutant’s back, gouging so deep, her spine was severed.

  Gagging, I turned away and caught a glimpse of what might be our last hope.

  From the tree line, David and his mutated brethren floated forward, forming a perimeter around the conflict.

  In the interim, more mutants rushed the beast, and were gruesomely dispatched before they could deal out any damage of their own.

  David, what is this? I was almost afraid to ask. Can you stop it?

  What you see is a loathsome mistake created on the barge. Jazmine is able to control it, to a degree, with a mechanism she alone possesses. She’s eluded us all night.

  We can restrain the beast not defeat it. It too is filled with fae, unseelie to be exact, magic. Yet to our benefit, it is of very low intelligence, operating by brute force and the instinct to kill.

  An unstoppable idiot for a monster, we were facing the worst kind of enemy — dumb and deadly.

  I had to find Jazmine. We needed the device she used to command it.

  Contain it! I’m going for Jazmine. I had to act fast.

  Zane and James McQuillen signaled for the pack to cease their frontal attacks as David’s cluster approached cloaked in silent secrecy. Without Zane’s command, the pack would have turned their aggressions on the fae-blooded oddities. Jazmine had warned them repeatedly about the dangers presented by the so-called abominations. The true abomination was shrieking and grasping for anything breathing.