Lily has strong fu blood. She can sniff out shifters of all sorts. Normally her warnings make me so proud of her. At that moment, her alert just made me cold. My head swung back toward the crowd. It seemed to be your normal gathering of rubber neckers. Everyday folks with their cell phones out hoping to catch some video of something gross or exciting and hopefully both. I scanned the crowd and drew in a deep breath. At first I got nothing. Then I caught it. A faint lupine odor wafting on the breeze. No not an odor, several odors. Fuck me there were a bunch of them.
My right hand slid to my back under my hoodie and I pulled my colt. I racked a shell into the chamber, pricked my thumb on the sharpened front sight and smeared the small swell of blood on the engraved Latin phrase that ran along the left side of the old pistol’s slide. Ian and Anders went a bit bug eyed as they saw me draw the weapon. I’m assuming the feds just stared impassively but who can tell with those ridiculous shades. “Lucas, what the fuck are you doing?” Anders said. Her voice reaching me just as the first scream erupted from the crowd.
A feral roar followed by a savage chorus of howls erupted from within the crowd. My arm came up in a blur and I was firing. Fur began to sprout from the face of a rather unobtrusive looking man in his early thirties. But before his muzzle was fully formed three 45 slugs slammed into his face and tore out the back of his head spraying the already terrified gawkers around him with blood and brains. His half shifted body went rag doll and hit the ground.
Panda- fucking-monium broke out. I sprang forward running like hell toward the crowd trying to find another clear shot. Blood began to spray within the crowd as five large wolves began laying into the people around them. The air filled with terrified screams and cries. Above the tumult five low pitched guttural voices yelled in concert “The scions of Fenrir shall rise.” I had no idea what the ever loving fuck the scions of Fenrir were but it sounded culty and in my experience cult equals really bad news.
As bat shit insane as it was to not only see five (6 including the faceless pile on the ground) wolves shift in broad day light but to also hear them speak in unison, I had to shove all that to the back of my mind so I could focus. There would be plenty of time later to dig that out and examine it. Probably while rocking back and forth in a corner guzzling liquor. The crowd was scattering as fast as their feet could carry them. With their message delivered, and several gallons of blood spilled like a sticky exclamation point, the wolves were literally turning tail.
I picked the biggest one (because why the fuck not) and took off after it. “Lily. Dalie.” I yelled over my shoulder. Hoping the little fur ball heard me and that she wasn’t already engaged.
The wolf I picked, a big bastard with shaggy deep brown fur, was loping off to the west right the fuck down the middle of Cherry street. When I’m fully juiced up I am extremely fast. I sprint at about 35 mph and I can keep it up for a long time. After about a block it was evident that this big son of a bitch was way fucking faster than me. He had to be doing about 40 +. There was no way I was going to catch him unless I did something. Luckily, I did have a gun in my hand. True it was of a model and vintage not known for accuracy but the enhanced strength and reflexes go a long way toward making up for that.
The wolf was about a block ahead of me at this point so it was now or never. I threw on the breaks, dropped to one knee. I squeezed off the remaining four rounds in my magazine as fast as I could. The first two missed just barely to the right of the big lycan. The second two didn’t hit anything vital but I did see a nice spray of blood from its right thigh and a noticeable hitch went into its giddy up.
I sprang back to my feet and resumed pursuit. I ejected the spend magazine and replaced it with a full mag from the case on my belt. I disengaged the slide lock and the old colt was ready for round two. Which I was hoping involved me closing the distance enough for me to accurately put all seven rounds into the furry terror.
Of course, that is not how things played out. A normal wolf would have been hell bent on getting the fuck out of there after taking two magically juiced rounds from the 1911. I’ve been told they burn like holy hell. The spell I activated on the 1911 gives the rounds silver like properties with a bit of holy fire thrown in just for shits and grins. This fucker however seemed to take getting shot as a challenge. I found this out as my eyes came back up from focusing on reloading and I saw that it was now sprinting at me as fast as its wounded leg would allow. Which was still pretty fast.
“Bad move mother fucker” I said to myself as the distance closed. I popped off two quick shots, both hit its left shoulder, before big dumb and furry lowered his shoulder. He probably thought he could just use his size and strength to take me out in one quick tackle. To his credit he did have several hundred pounds of mass and a good foot of height on me so it wasn’t a totally dumb idea. Unfortunately for him this was not my first rodeo.
At the last second, I dropped to my knees right under the shoulder he was trying to use as a battering ram. As I hit the ground I lashed out with my right fist and punched him right in the knee. Even juiced up I am not as strong as a werewolf. In a blood rage, like the one this fellow was in, I’ve seen a wolf flip over a good-sized sedan, but I’m not real far behind them. I could probably flip a mini over without too much trouble. So, his knee didn’t have a chance. My fist connected and I heard a loud snapping sound as his extra strong bone broke.
Between his momentum and the force of my punch ole’ wolfy face planted right into the fucking asphalt. I popped up and spun around in time to see him tumbling down the road, his skull smacking the ground over and over in an intensely satisfying way. As he came to rest I pulled my silver etched machete from the sheath that hung down my back and I reached into my left pocket for the set of silver knuckle dusters I keep in there. Wolfy’s tumble was fun to watch but it would not do any permanent damage. All it had done was buy time. Now it was time to go to work. I closed the distance between the two of us fast but wolfy was up and had shaken off the head trauma by the time I got to him. I could also see that his broken knee was fully healed. That wasn’t a surprise. Wolves heal from normal damage almost instantly.
Standing toe to toe in a fight against a werewolf probably seems insanely stupid. And for most people it would be a death sentence. However, I had learned long ago that for me it was doable. I’m not as strong as them or as fast in a foot race. However, my power to weight ratio is far better and that gives me an edge in speed close up. On top of that werewolves are shit fighters. Well for the most part they are. Do to their size and strength werewolves pretty much never get into hand to hand combat. They just overpower their prey with quick bursts of fury. My first thrust with the machete went straight at his left. He easily batted the strike away. But, as I had figured, he used far more strength than he needed to and over extended leaving his right-side wide open. I slipped the blade down and away from his claws and swung my left hand in a vicious hook right into the bullet wounds in his right thigh.
The serrated edge that ran along the ridge of my knuckle duster bit deep into the leg and tore the bullet holes wide open. He howled in fury and pain. I followed through the punch and spun in a tight full circle. As my spin ended I slashed hard with the machete. The blade caught his right arm, which had been swinging back to try to push me away from his injured leg, and took his arm off at the elbow. This time his bellow was a half human mix of scream and howl. I used the moment of stunned agony to flip the blade over my hand into a reverse grip. His howl trailed off and he leveled furious eyes at me just as I pivoted to the left bringing the machete in a hard arc back at him. I put all my strength into it and the blade barely slowed as it hit his neck and took his head off. Those furious eyes got very big for an instant as his head slowly tumbled off his body.
I looked at the head as it rolled across the ground. It looked odd. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it right then but I knew there was definitely something wrong with it. I started to move toward it when I caught the sound of big feet hitting asph
alt behind me. I spun just in time to see that one of the other wolves must have doubled back at the sound of the gun shot.
I had just enough time to realize how fucked I was before its lowered shoulder hit me square in the chest and my world erupted in pain. Stars exploded behind my eyes and I felt the rush of wind as I flew backwards. For a second I was flying free, then gravity kicked in and I hit the asphalt hard enough that I felt several vertebra break. Then there was a whole lot of skidding and rolling. I finally came to a stop lying flat on my back.
It took a second for my brain to reboot and when it did I felt agony course through my body. Each breath was fire. I was sure I had at least five broken ribs. My sternum was most likely cracked. My nose was full of the scent of almonds so I figured that my skull was cracked and I had a severe closed head injury. Not to mention that I was almost certainly bleeding internally. I had taken the express bus to fuck town.
As I lay there unable to move and experiencing three to four times the trauma that a human body should be able to endure I heard a strange gritty wheezing sound. It took a second but I realized it was the fucking wolf laughing and it was slowly getting closer.
I was just starting to feel my body begin the painful process of knitting itself back together when fido’s head came into view over mine. I could smell his wolf scent (now that I caught his scent I could tell it was a man). It was a deep earthy musk tinged with madness and …. corruption. His smell said that something was very wrong inside of him. It was very much like the smell of rotting sea life you find in shitty harbors and marina. Which was extremely odd. I had never smelled a wolf that stunk like that before. On top of the smell he looked wrong. His head was slightly bulbous and he had small tendrils sprouting from his muzzle.
“Your life is mine Apostate.” He growled at me.
Apostate? What the fuck? I knew the word but for the life of me I could not figure out how it and I were connected. However, I had more pressing issues at that particular moment so filed it away for later review since it made no sense at that juncture. My first goal was to try to stall him until either my ravaged body healed enough for me to pull one of my back up weapons or until help arrived. I could hear help approaching but she was still a block or more away. I needed time. Luckily the one thing not broken on me was my jaw.
“You seem to be sporting a lot more ugly than most of the dogs I’ve put down.” I figured insulting him would either make him feel the need to refute my words and show me how superior he was or he would answer my affront by tearing my face off.
“Dog?” he asked in a decidedly butt hurt fashion. “How dare you call me a dog?” the butt hurtedness continued to flow from him. “I am the next step. I am a scion of Fenrir. My pack shall cleanse the world of the weak and show our dominance to all. The world shall run red with the blood of the unworthy.” Man my little jab was working way better than I planned. It sounded like chatty Cathy had just been itching to give this little speech. Like he got up that morning, splashed some water from his dish in his face, and practiced his bad ass speech in the mirror until it was just right. Then he climbed up the steps out of his basement, kissed his mom goodbye, and went off to cleanse the world of unbelievers.
“We were supposed to let you live - for now, apostate, but I shall cleanse the world of your foulness.” Well that was interesting. The whole apostate thing made me think that I must have brushed up against their little cult before and pissed someone off, but once again it had to wait for later. I heard the cavalry scampering right behind me. I waited until I heard her grunt of effort and shouted “Lily, Zengzhang.” Twenty pounds of pissed off pug grew to three hundred as Lily’s jump carried her over me to crash into mister world cleanser.
Lilly hit the unprepared wolf like a truck. He toppled backward and she landed with all four feet on his chest. Streamers of blue magical fire trailed from her eyes and mouth as the magic of her blood took over. My sweet little pug was now three hundred pounds of ancient protector and her powerful jaws were locked like a vice around the wolf’s throat.
I let her hold him for a second as I felt the last of my major fractures knit back together. Then with a pained growl I heaved myself to my feet. I wobbled like the loser of a heavy weight bout for a moment, the wolf heart was running a little low after so much exertion, then pulled my back up piece from the holster on the left side of my back. The colt had been knocked out of my holster when wolfy McFuckface speared me. I limped over to the wolf’s head. He was flailing to beat hell but Lily’s magic was protecting her from any major harm for now. I put the snub-nosed barrel of the Rugar super redhawk Alaskan right to his temple, Lily’s hold on his throat was keeping his head pretty still. With a roar, the 454 casull sent 360 grains of pure silver through his weird bulbous head. His failing stopped as chunks of brain, skull, and a good bit of asphalt blew everywhere. The redhawk’s stubby barrel and hellacious kick made it shitty for long shots, not to mention that silver rounds tumble like a bitch, but it was perfect for up close work.
With the immediate threat gone I slumped back to the ground and laid down again. My body was still pretty badly fucked, I needed to refuel. I laid there, staring up at the sky, for a few seconds before I heard the sound of running feet come to a stop a few feet away and I caught Ander’s scent. “Detective.” I said in a wheeze. “I’m sure you have some questions about what exactly you’re looking at but I am pretty sure at least one of my lungs is currently collapsed so if you could give me a minute that would be great.”
In a startling display of humanity the detective gave me my requested reprieve. I decided to make the most of my time. I reached in my pocket. Pulled out one of my vials of wolf heart and took a nice big pull.
Almost instantly I felt my lung inflate. I sat up slowly, coughed hard and then spit out a huge clot of blood and what appeared to be lung tissue. Super awesome. I looked around. Lily was back to normal size and she was sitting on the dead wolf’s chest proud as a peacock. My clothes were shredded from my tumble along the ground and fresh pink skin was peeking out of the tears. My shoes were gone. That confused me for a second until I looked back to where I had been standing when the wolf hit me.. Apparently the fucker had knocked me clean out of my shoes. And then there was Anders. Standing there in her sensible detective’s pants suit. Her steely graying hair pulled back in a sensible bun and her slightly lined face showing a mix of confusion, shock and perhaps just a bit of annoyance. Ander’s eyes kept looking from me to the headless wolf to Lilly and then back to me. Like she was looking at a piece of impressionist art and trying to figure out what the hell it meant.
“So, what the hell are you?” Anders asked as she looked down at me. “You’re way to fast to be human and you’re growing new skin over some pretty serious road rash right in front of my eyes.”
“I’m human, detective.” I said as I pushed myself to my feet. “I just believe in a philosophy of better living through magic.” I pulled the vial of wolf heart out of pocket and shook. “Powdered werewolf heart”.
“Christ” she said with a fairly disgusted look. “On top being extremely reckless you’re also a moron.” In all fairness, she did have a point about being reckless. I had chased a huge werewolf down the middle of the street alone. But the moron comment stung a little.
“That shit kills everyone who uses it.” She continued before I could defend myself. “The human body can’t handle the strain. If you use it for long you start to age very fast. We see twenty-year olds who use it for a few months and look sixty. It’s not making you stronger you’re just borrowing from your future.”
I was about to retort but that brought me up short. To be truthful I had never really known much about other people who used wolf heart. I had been using it constantly for almost seven years and had no side effects. I kind of thought that I was almost doing a service by harvesting it. To me it was a miracle.
“How long have you been on it?” she asked. She had a real PSA tone in her voice. I could tell we were heading toward
a “this is your brain on drugs moment” where she started listing all the things that were soon going to happen to my body from the use of such a terrible substance.
“Seven years.” I said. Her jaw sort of got stuck open for a second. Obviously, she had been about to speak and stopped before anything came out.
“That doesn’t make any sense” she said. “No one who takes this regularly lives more than a year. You should have looked like a shriveled-up mummy six years ago.”
“Well I exfoliate regularly and avoid gluten so….” I was rather happy with myself for that one. Anders however had a look that clearly stated that she did not think I was funny.
“Anyway Detective, while this is an interesting anomaly I think we have other things to worry about right now. So, we should probably table this intervention and get back to the problem at hand.” I gestured to the headless werewolf. Lily gave a little snort and sneeze from her perch on the wolf’s chest. “Lily agrees with me.”
“Speaking of Lily,” Anders said, cautiously side eyeing my little pup. “Any chance you’re going to explain how a cute little pug turned into a huge flying demon dog?”
“Help me find my gun and shoes and I’ll explain”
Chapter three
Leave the past behind you
The Scions Of Fenrir (The Wolf's Heart Journals Book 1) Page 4