Shadow Hunt

by L. L. Raand

  She padded along at a brisk run, her wolf tracking effortlessly while part of her mind considered the raiders and their intent in attacking inside Pack land. They had come to leave a message, a message she still didn’t quite understand. Was their purpose simply to draw Sylvan out as Andrea had suggested? They were foolish if they thought the Alpha could be taken so easily, especially surrounded by her centuri. But then, they were renegades and foolish by definition. In the end, the intentions didn’t matter. They had wounded several sentries, might have killed them, and violated Pack law. Her path was clear and she welcomed the chance to act.

  Niki lifted her snout, tested the air, caught a sharper, stronger scent just ahead. They’d left a rear guard to alert them of anyone approaching from behind. Niki grinned to herself. She was downwind, and her position would not be discovered. She flanked right and circled around the single wolf in the rear. She would’ve liked to have taken her down, but the Alpha had said to exercise caution. Caution was not in her nature, but following orders was. The Alpha had said she could not engage, and despite the clawing in her belly to challenge the intruder, she raced on, one shadow among many. Before long, the trail freshened and she knew she was close. They were headed not for Blackpaw territory, but south, toward the city. They must have a camp somewhere outside the forest. She snorted, unsurprised. Renegades rarely kept a forest camp but congregated in abandoned factory buildings or flophouses. She did not pity them. They didn’t deserve to sleep beneath the moon.

  Certain now of their course, she quickly turned back and raced toward the riverbed and the Rover. She shed pelt when she stepped into the headlights and Dasha pulled to a stop a few feet away. Niki climbed into the rear and Jace tossed her clothes.

  “They’re headed for the city,” she said as she pulled on a T-shirt.

  “Then we need to cut them off before they leave the forest,” Sylvan said. “A chase on the open highway will attract police attention.”

  Dasha already had a map up on the Rover’s nav con and pointed to a section of highway that skirted the densely forested Pack land. She tapped the screen. “Here is where they’ve most likely left their vehicles. I can get there before them if I take this fire trail.” She traced another line.

  “Do it,” Sylvan said.

  Niki settled back to wait, content that she had done her duty. She closed her eyes, conserving her energy while her wolf remained on the alert.

  Forty-five minutes later, Dasha pulled the Rover into a secluded turnoff a quarter-mile from the highway. “There.” She pointed.

  “Yes,” Sylvan said with satisfaction.

  Two dark SUVs were parked in the underbrush at one edge of the small clearing, nose out for a quick getaway. The vehicles could easily have carried half a dozen raiders each.

  “Jonathan,” Sylvan said, “disable the alarm systems and make sure those vehicles aren’t going anywhere until we want them to.”

  “Yes, Alpha.” Jonathan climbed out and skirted the edges of the clearing, keeping to the shadows. He knelt by the first vehicle, withdrew tools from inside his flak jacket, and worked for a few minutes before crouching by the side of the second. When he returned to the Rover, he said, “They won’t be going anywhere in those.”

  “No,” Sylvan said. “They won’t be going anywhere at all.”

  The centuri rumbled their assent. Sylvan rolled down her window and drew in air so crisp the inside of her nose tingled. Finally, she scented them.

  “All right,” Sylvan said, “it’s time.”

  The centuri practically climbed over one another in their eagerness to fight. Sylvan didn’t try to settle them—she wanted them alert and ready. They’d be safer with their every sense on edge. She positioned her warriors along the mouth of the trail leading from Pack land into the clearing. They formed a gauntlet through which the raiders would pass to reach their vehicles.

  “On my command,” Sylvan said, “we take them. Don’t fire unless you have to.”

  Niki snarled. “Why show them mercy?”

  “Two reasons,” Sylvan said, though an explanation was not required when she gave an order. “We need to know who leads them, and they are wolves. If they agree to my terms, I may let them live.”

  Jace growled. “They attacked us. They don’t deserve to live.”

  “I won’t argue that truth,” Sylvan said flatly. “But do as I command.”

  Jace ducked her head. “Yes, Alpha.”

  They formed up on either side of the trail, Niki across from Sylvan nearest to the point the renegades would emerge, Jace and Jonathan as always a pair—one on the left, one on the right, and Dasha and Max closest to the vehicles. Six against twelve or fifteen. Poor odds for the renegades.

  *

  They came in a tight group, a dozen or more dressed in combat fatigues, carrying automatic rifles at the ready. Sylvan stepped into a shaft of moonlight in the center of the trail and the wolf Were at the point of the phalanx of renegades halted abruptly, his face registering shock. Sylvan carried no weapon. She put her hands on her hips, her legs spread wide.

  “You’ve trespassed on my territory, you’ve brought challenge to me and my Pack. I accept the challenge. Your leader may stand for all of you, or I and my centuri will judge you all guilty and render punishment.”

  The apparent leader in front, a tall male with thick dark hair, a beard scuffing his jawline, broad shoulders, and a bulky body, laughed. “I’ve heard you were invincible. I never heard you were this stupid.”

  Sylvan’s eyes glowed gold, and silver pelt shimmered down her torso as she grew taller, her warrior half-form emerging effortlessly. Her limbs lengthened and claws emerged. Her face transformed, her jaws stretching to accommodate her canines. Most wolf Weres had never seen a half-form. Bernardo had never been capable of it. Some of the renegades cowered. “The punishment is death.”

  “Then death it is.” The male lowered his assault rifle in her direction, confident in his supremacy.

  Sylvan smiled, and before her smile registered in his mind, she shifted completely, sprang through the air, and took him down by the throat. Blood sprayed in an arc across the clearing, shimmering like drops of fire in the moonlight before falling to the earth. The kill was swift and more merciful than he deserved. She straddled his chest and raised her head to the sky, howling a cry of triumph. She backed away and crouched on all fours, waiting, studying the prey through sharp, patient eyes. The renegades drew closer together, a few raised their arms, and the centuri stepped from the cover of darkness and raised their own weapons.

  Niki said, “Surrender your arms, and the Alpha may judge you mercifully. You have three seconds, or you will all die.”

  Sylvan howled again, and the force of her power shuddered across the glade and spread out into Pack land, igniting all the Weres within hearing distance and beyond. A cacophony of cries echoed back, and the renegades shuddered under the onslaught. Their primal nature was to obey the strongest, and resisting an Alpha of Sylvan’s power was an internal struggle that most could not win. At least half instantly dropped their weapons on the ground. The others twisted uneasily, glancing from the centuri to Sylvan and back again. A cat quickly raised her rifle to fire in Sylvan’s direction and Niki shot her through the forehead. The other cats immediately dropped their weapons and moved away from the wolves. Three wolf Weres attempted to run for the shelter of the trees, firing wildly as they ran, and the centuri cut them down.

  “Wait!” a golden-haired female cat called. “We surrender and petition for a hearing before the cat Alpha.”

  “You are trespassers on Pack land,” Niki repeated, “and therefore have forfeited your rights to petition for anything. You would be dead by now if not for the Alpha’s mercy.” She motioned to Jace and Jonathan to round up the cats. “Take them to the vehicles.”

  When the cats were herded away, less than a half dozen wolf Weres remained. Niki grinned as Sylvan prowled around them. Each time she circled, the renegades squeezed closer to one an
other, as if trying to disappear. “Time’s up. Centuri, prepare to fire.”

  The centuri aimed their weapons on the raiders.

  “One, two…” Niki intoned. Automatic weapons thudded to the ground and the renegades dropped to their knees. A single dark form broke from the center of the milling group and crashed into the underbrush, running in the direction of the vehicles.

  “Round them up,” Niki said.

  As the centuri closed around the kneeling captives, Niki dropped her weapons and shifted. She bounded toward the clearing, saw a tall, thin male racing for the nearest vehicle. She launched herself just as he opened the door and slid inside. Her jaws closed on his shoulder and she dragged him from the driver’s seat and onto the ground. He fell screaming beneath her, his shoulder shredded and gushing blood. She planted her paws on his chest and pinned him with the weight of her body. She stared into his eyes, saw hatred and fear, and snapped her jaws. He was the enemy. He would kill if not killed. She opened her jaws, prepared to strike.

  Niki!

  Sylvan burst from the forest and streaked toward them. When she reached them, she shed pelt and looked down at the writhing renegade. “We’ll take this one back with us.”

  Niki growled and set her teeth against his throat. She slowly closed her jaws until her canines pierced his flesh. He whimpered and urinated in submission. Satisfied, she climbed off and shed pelt. “Why spare him?”

  Sylvan stared down at him. Even in the moonlight, his pallor was clear. He was terrified, but his eyes still burned with hatred. “He’s one of Bernardo’s old lieutenants, and he smells like the leader.”

  Sylvan was right. He was a dominant male, more dominant even than the one Sylvan had killed—the one this male had allowed to stand for him. Niki wondered how a leader could lead from the rear, but that had always been Bernardo’s style too.

  “If this is an example of Bernardo’s best warriors,” Niki sneered, “it’s no wonder he’s dead.”

  “Put him in the other SUV,” Sylvan said in disgust. “It’s time for some answers.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Dru pulled up in front of Francesca’s lair on her motorcycle at three in the morning. Lights glowed dimly on the wide front porch and behind the tall narrow windows on the first floor. From a distance, the mansion looked like any of the others that dotted the heights overlooking the river on the outskirts of the city. Only when one drew near were the armed guards along the drive and at the entrances visible. Luce pushed through the front door and walked down the wide stone steps as Dru kicked down the stand and swung her leg over the tank.

  “You’re back early,” Luce said.

  “I need to see Francesca.”

  “The Queen,” Luce said, emphasizing the title, “is conducting business. She’ll see you at sunrise.”

  Dru shook her head. “She’ll want to see me now. Tell her it has to do with Sylvan.”

  “Do we need to prepare for an attack?”

  “If she was in danger, I wouldn’t be standing here talking to you. But I wouldn’t let your guards stray very far from the lair.”

  “Come inside.” Luce moved so quickly she was already through the door when the invitation left her mouth.

  Dru followed inside, through the hall, and down the elevator to Francesca’s quarters. The largest room other than her bedroom had been turned into an office. Luce knocked on the closed walnut-paneled door, although Francesca undoubtedly knew everyone who approached long before they reached her door. A moment passed, and then Francesca said, “Come in, Luce.”

  Luce entered and Dru followed. The room resembled a library in a mansion owned by an eighteenth-century land baron—and perhaps it was. The scrolled bookcases were solid mahogany, filled with leather-bound books that were probably first editions. Thick oriental carpets covered most of the gleaming hardwood. The ceiling was coffered with hammered tin tiles painted a creamy white. Heavy brocade drapes covered portions of one wall, adding to the opulent air of the luxurious space. Francesca relaxed in a high-backed, dark brown leather chair behind a broad antique desk, a laptop computer incongruously open before her. A cell phone rested by her left hand. She studied them with undisguised annoyance. “What is it?”

  “Forgive the interruption, my Queen,” Luce said, “but Dru insisted on seeing you.”

  “Oh?” Francesca switched her attention to Dru. Her expression softened. “Then it must be important.”

  “I’ve just come from Raptures,” Dru said. “I’m afraid Cecilia won’t be delivering the wolf Alpha. Sylvan is back in her own territory.”

  Francesca hissed. “You’re certain?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. We sent a raiding party to test their lines and lure some of her forces away from the Compound. Communications with the mercenaries ended before they were able to leave Pack land. Probability is high that Sylvan has them.”

  “Oh dear,” Francesca said mildly. “How much do these mercenaries of yours know?”

  “Very little,” Dru said. “Their orders came from a wolf Were. They believe their goal is to overthrow Sylvan in order to place one of their own in power.”

  “And what of your role in all of this?”

  “Most don’t know me at all. The few who do know only that I support their cause and provided funds and munitions.”

  “None of which threatens our position long-term with the Weres or Clans,” Luce pointed out.

  “No,” Francesca said, “assuming Sylvan is no longer in power.” She pushed back her chair and paced in front of her desk. She had dressed in a sheer cream-colored silk shirt and deep green silk trousers for the videoconferences she held with her business associates and Clan captains throughout the country. Her nipples were pale crescents crowning the voluptuous swell of her breasts.

  Dru imagined sinking her canines into their inviting ripeness. Francesca slowed, captured Dru’s gaze, and a warm wave of indolent desire rolled through Dru’s belly. Thrall. She curled her lip and hissed quietly.

  “Sylvan,” Francesca said briskly, her attention swinging from Luce to Dru, “will undoubtedly alert her allies of the attack. Eventually none of the Weres will trust us and our position will be threatened. We can’t wait any longer for Nicholas’s miracle drug or for a handful of pathetic mercenaries to win our war for us.”

  “I agree, my Queen,” Luce said, a glint of triumph in her crimson eyes. “The longer we wait, the more likely we are to be forced into a position we can’t defend.”

  “We can’t challenge her directly,” Francesca said calmly, leaning against the front of her desk. She rested her palms on the surface behind her, breasts pressing forward, straining the thin, delicate material. “If we can lure her out with just a few of her warriors, we could surprise her.” She focused on Dru. “We have numbers enough for that, don’t we?”

  Dru shook off the cloud of lust leeching her attention. “We can assemble at least several dozen well-trained mercenaries and Vampire soldiers. That would be enough if we control the time and place.”

  “Then we need to bait a trap,” Francesca mused, “that will force Sylvan to act.” She paused, her nipples tightening beneath the translucent silk. “We must offer her something that she’s willing to risk everything for.”

  “We have that,” Luce said. “We have Veronica Standish’s test subjects.”

  Francesca pursed her lips. “Yes, but I’m afraid if we sacrifice Standish’s work, her usefulness to us will be over.”

  “If we’re successful,” Luce said, “in intercepting Sylvan and destroying her in the process of attempting to free the subjects, Dr. Standish will have nothing to complain about.”

  “And if the plan fails?” Francesca asked, studying Luce intently.

  Luce shrugged. “Some sacrifices must be made during war.”

  “You’re right, of course.” Francesca sighed. “As much as I would hate to lose Dr. Standish, I’m afraid we will have to risk it.”

  “We’ll need a credible way to leak the infor
mation to Sylvan,” Dru said, “or else she’ll expect a trap.”

  “You have an idea?”

  “Luce reported Gregory was recruiting scientists for Veronica’s lab. If someone pretending to be a member of HUFSI leaks the information, it won’t be traced to us. Standish will blame Gregory.”

  “Luce?” Francesca said questioningly.

  Luce nodded slowly. “It might work. It’s a dangerous game, but we have the upper hand.”

  Francesca smiled. “That’s the kind of game I like to play.”

  *

  Drake found Sylvan in her office, standing by the open windows. The sun was just breaching the horizon, the dawn not yet upon them. She brushed both hands over Sylvan’s shoulders and kissed the back of her neck. “The interrogations are over?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there anything that requires urgent attention?”

  Sylvan sighed, an uncommon weariness in her body and voice. “No, not really. I’ll fill in the others in a minute.”