by Lori Drake
“Why didn’t you say something?” In a rare show of temper, Chris pushed past the pair with a growl and strode down the tunnel after his wayward packmate.
Joey caught up with him quickly and caught his hand. “We’ll find him.”
Chris nodded and squeezed her hand, then let go so she could shift back into wolf form. As she headed off down the tunnel, nose down, he muttered to himself, “Let’s just hope it’s before he does something else stupid.”
25
Joey raced along the tunnel as quickly as she dared, tracking both Melinda’s and Adam’s scents now. It swiftly became apparent to her why Adam had run off when she caught a whiff of Dawn’s scent in the tunnel as well. At least they were all leading in the same direction, but she had to be careful not to miss it if they diverged for some reason.
About twenty yards down the tunnel, Joey lost the scent. There hadn’t been any junctures, so where had they gone? She looked up and around, but found no ladders or overhead exits. Putting her nose to the ground, she spun and backtracked until she found the scents again, but something wasn’t right. The rapid footsteps following in her wake slowed and stopped as the rest of the group caught up.
“What’s wrong?” Amber asked.
Joey whined and sniffed at the base of the wall where the scents abruptly ended.
“Oh, I see.” Amber said.
Joey lifted her head to look over at the witch, noting her unfocused gaze.
“Clever, clever,” Cathy murmured, stepping forward. She touched her hand to the tunnel wall and was surrounded briefly by a glowing nimbus. The wall shimmered as if it were a mirage, and when the spell fell away, a man-sized hole was revealed.
“Nice trick,” Dean muttered. “If she could make acne disappear, she’d make a killing.”
Joey snorted and nudged Cathy aside gently so she could look through the hole. Bare earthen tunnel walls and the smell of damp earth greeted her. The tunnel branching off from the big drainage pipe was considerably narrower, and Joey sighed inwardly before stepping inside. Fortunately, the narrow tunnel only stretched for about fifteen feet before emptying into… 19th century Seattle.
Cobblestones lined the street between dingy brick buildings, or at least the buried original ground floors of said buildings. The buildings were remarkably preserved. The windows even had glass in them. Filthy glass, but glass.
About one half of a city block stretched ahead of her, with earth and stone fill at either end. She shook off the strangely riveting scene after a moment and put her nose to the ground again, following the mingled scents down the street and toward one of the buildings. She spared a brief glance behind her to ensure everyone was following, and it was right then that something exploded out of the window beside her and bowled her over. Shards of glass rained down on her as she went down with a startled yip. She twisted to try to free herself, but sharp teeth sank into the back of her neck and held on.
Pandemonium broke out around her. More glass shattered as she struggled to shake off her assailant to no avail. The jaws clamped on her neck held on tight, and it felt like steel bands were wrapped around her middle. She couldn’t see her attacker, but the scent of unwashed flesh and dirty fur filled her nostrils. Her human allies shouted, and the air grew charged with magic. She twisted and writhed, but it wasn’t until the body on her back shuddered and loosened its grip on her that she was able to scramble away.
The creature that picked itself up off the cobblestones in front of her was like nothing she’d ever seen before. It was humanoid, but so thin she—judging from the saggy breasts—was practically nothing but skin and bones. Her face was horrifically misshapen, with a wide, elongated jaw full of savage, bloody, practically canine teeth that were so long she couldn’t close her mouth properly. Drool dripped down her chin, wetting the thin layer of dark scruff on the underside of her jaw. The hair at the juncture of her legs and beneath her arms was so thick it was practically fur and covered much more skin than it should. There was a patch on her chest, too.
Joey met the she-creature’s wild eyes, whose pupils all but swallowed the thin blue ring around them. There was no one home, no spark of intelligence, just primal fury. The creature snarled and swiped a claw-tipped hand at Joey, but Joey jumped back nimbly to remain outside of her elongated arm’s reach.
A quick glance found more of the creatures attacking the group. Dean had drawn the tire iron from his belt and did his best to keep the attackers off of the witches. One, its attention freshly diverted from Cathy, latched onto the thick leather sleeve of his jacket. He clocked it, then swung the tire iron with enough force that its head snapped back and it tumbled to the ground where it lay, still and silent. The witches all glowed with magic, clearly up to something, but it wasn’t immediately clear what.
She only managed to catch a glimpse of Chris—now in wolf form—holding off two other creatures before the one she had to contend with came at her again. Ducking another swipe of claws, Joey snapped at one thin hairy leg, but the creature was surprisingly agile. It danced out of her jaws’ reach.
A ball of energy passed over Joey’s head, striking the she-creature square in her hairy chest. Flung backward, she slammed into the brick wall, cracking it. Joey’s neck stung, rivulets of blood running down her spine as she twisted to look in the direction the magic projectile had come from and met Cathy’s eyes briefly. Her godmother gave her a slight nod before turning her attention elsewhere.
With the creature lying limp at the foot of the wall, Joey sought a fresh target. There were five creatures still on the attack—two harassing Chris and three attacking the witches. Instinct pulled her toward her mate, but he was probably better off than poor Dean.
No sooner had the thought occurred to her than one of the creatures trying to edge past Dean took a direct hit from one of Cathy’s bolts of light and went careening across the cobblestones. The other two stopped what they were doing and backed up. Dean pressed the advantage, swinging his tire iron through the air and driving them farther away from the witches. Another bolt flew past Dean, this time from Amber, but it went wide and struck the debris blocking the far side of the road.
Joey hesitated a second more, then sprinted for Chris and leaped at the creature trying to flank him. Joey slammed into it. The creature staggered but didn’t fall. Joey’s snapping jaws caught nothing but air as she dug her nails into the creature’s shoulders, but the creature shoved her away with enough force to send her flying several feet through the air. Landing on her feet, Joey glared at the creature—also female—and marveled at how much her emaciated form belied her strength. At least she had the creature’s attention now, so Chris only had one to contend with.
The creature snarled and ran at her, crossing the distance faster than Joey expected, and swung claw-tipped fingers at her. Joey flung herself aside, but the claws raked her shoulder, cutting through her thick pelt like tiny razor blades. Stinging pain flared, but the wounds weren’t deep enough to hamper her movements much. She twisted and clamped her teeth down on the creature’s wrist. Bones crunched between her powerful jaws, and unnatural, foul-tasting blood coated her tongue and teeth as she shook her head, worrying at the bone.
The creature shrieked, an inhuman sound that would’ve flattened Joey’s ears if they hadn’t already been tucked back against her skull. Her brain rattled around in her head as the creature tried to shake her off, and Joey released her grip on the she-creature’s arm after a few more moments. The creature recoiled, holding her arm against her chest as she backed away, then turned and tried to flee.
Joey’s prey drive surged, and she raced off after the creature, leaping on her back and bringing her down. But her prey shrieked and squirmed, continuing to try and get away until she took its neck between her strong jaws and bit down hard enough to draw blood. The creature went still beneath her, like a pup caught by the scruff.
Joey rolled her eyes around, trying to see what was going on, but she was at the wrong angle to see anything. A fain
t echo of running footsteps set alarm bells to ringing in her head, but both were soon drowned out by a very human scream. Her head went up automatically, ears swiveling toward the sound even as she pressed a large paw into the back of the creature to discourage her from trying to move again.
It was Amber, her head tipped back and mouth open as she screamed bloody murder.
Chris had never shifted so fast in his life, transforming from wolf to human mid-stride as he ran toward the witches. He’d seen it all unfold in excruciating detail seconds after ripping out the throat of the nightmarish creature that Joey’d left to him. One of the creatures had managed to slip past Dean’s defenses and swiped its claws at Amber, who’d raised her arms in self-defense instinctively. The creature’s claws had raked along her forearm, slicing through the thin fabric of her long-sleeved turtleneck like a hot knife through butter and flaying open the flesh beneath.
But it wasn’t the wound that’d made Amber scream. Her eyes had glazed over and she’d stood stone still for several seconds while Dean dashed over and bludgeoned the creature on the back of the head with his tire iron. The creature hit the ground, and then Amber started screaming.
“Don’t touch—” Chris shouted, but it was too late.
Dean tossed the tire iron to the ground and placed his hands on Amber’s shoulders. His lips moved, but Chris couldn’t hear what he said over the racket Amber was making. A flurry of activity in his peripheral vision resolved itself into the familiar figures of Itsuo and Vince darting through the hole in the tunnel wall, heads swiveling as they took in the scene.
Amber’s eyes rolled back in her head seconds later, and she slumped bonelessly. Dean caught her and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her away from the fallen creature. Blood pooled on the cobblestones beneath its cracked skull.
Chris caught up to them as Dean looked down for a moment, then squatted and lowered himself down on the hard ground with the unconscious witch in his lap.
“Careful,” Fariq said. He and his brother hovered nearby, looking on with concern. “Don’t touch her skin.”
Dean looked up and met his eyes, smiling faintly. “It’s okay. We’ve been down this road before.”
Chris had no idea what that meant, but he satisfied himself with a nod before looking around for Joey. She was still standing a ways away with one of the creatures at her feet—no, under her feet. “Cathy, can you help Joey?”
Cathy nodded and hurried away. Chris quickly assessed the scene, determining that all of the creatures were dead or unconscious. He wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, but really only smeared it around. The creatures’ blood tasted as unnatural as they looked. Human, but not quite human.
“Amber,” Dean said, pulling Chris’s attention back to him and the unconscious witch. “Come on, wake up, girl.” He patted her cheek a few times, but there was no response.
Itsuo and Vince strode over to join the group clustered around the fallen witch, and a few seconds later, Joey jogged over with Cathy not far behind her, in human form once more. “What happened? Is she okay?”
“One of those… things… got past me. Dammit,” Dean said. “It tagged her, and she probably got a front row seat to whatever made it.”
“Huh?” Joey looked between all present, forehead wrinkled.
“She’s psychic,” Chris said. “She sees the history of things when she touches them. And people too, I guess.”
“Psychometry,” Cathy said, looking down at Amber with concern etched on her face. “It’s rare, and on top of that her gift is particularly strong. She may be out for a while. Clearly, what she saw was traumatic.”
“Well, at least we’ll know where those things came from when she wakes up,” Ali said.
“Should he be touching her?” Joey asked, motioning at Dean.
“It’s okay,” Dean said. “She read me a few months ago. Saved my life in the process. Or vice versa.”
“I’d like to hear about that, but later I think,” Chris said, then turned to Cathy. “Are the ones your magic bolts hit dead or unconscious?”
“Unconscious. Probably. I put the one Joey took down to sleep.”
Chris nodded. “Can you make sure the rest don’t come to and attack us any time soon?”
She nodded and moved off to do so, motioning for Fariq and Ali to join her.
“Check the perimeter,” Joey told Itsuo and Vince. “Make sure there aren’t any more of those things lurking in the shadows.”
The pair nodded and hurried off.
Chris and Joey stood there in silence for a long moment before he pulled her a few feet away to speak quietly. “We can’t take Amber with us.”
“We can’t leave her here, either.” She bit her lip, glancing over at the witch in question. “Not alone. There could be more of those creatures.”
“What the hell are those things, anyway? They look... human-ish.”
Joey shrugged. “Melinda’s failed experiments, maybe? Harding said there were a bunch of other missing women.”
Chris had no better suggestion, so he nodded. “That makes sense. As for Amber, we can have Dean take her back out. That’ll get him out of the line of fire.”
Joey nodded. “Okay, but what about—”
“You’re not sending Dean out with her,” Dean said.
Blinking, Chris turned toward him, surprised the medium could hear their quiet exchange from such a distance. Since there apparently wasn’t any point in keeping their distance, Chris drifted back over to join Dean. Joey wandered over with him.
“Why not?” Chris asked.
“Sorry, Trish likes to eavesdrop. But at the same time… not sorry. Because you need me.” Dean carefully eased Amber down onto the cobblestones, removing his leather jacket to fold and tuck it under her head, and stood. “In case your poltergeist comes back.”
“He has a point.” Joey frowned, though, like she didn’t like it any more than Chris did.
“Alpha,” Vince said, trotting over with something in his hands.
Joey stiffened. “That’s Adam’s bag. Where’d you find it?”
The lanky wolf gestured toward the building the creatures had come from. “It was on the ground over there.”
Chris took the bag from Vince, then thought better of it and handed it to Dean. “Hold onto this, would you?”
Dean nodded and slipped the strap over his head, settling it across his body.
Chris turned back to Vince. “Take Amber back to the surface.”
“Take her to Jon’s so Ben can tend her wound,” Joey added.
Nodding, Chris continued, “And remember, don’t touch her skin. If she starts to wake up, put her down immediately so she doesn’t freak out.”
“Yes, Alpha.” Vince carefully scooped the unconscious witch into his arms and carried her toward the exit.
Dean reclaimed his jacket and looked around at what remained of the rescue party. “I guess that leaves us with three wolves, three witches, and… me.”
“No place like home, eh?” Chris clapped Dean on the shoulder and steered him toward the building. The others were already moving in that direction.
Dean smirked. “Let’s just hope the wicked werewitch of the west doesn’t have any flying monkeys.”
26
Freshly healed of her latest battle wounds, courtesy of her godmother’s magic, Joey approached the doorway slowly, cautiously stepping around the shards of broken glass littering the street so they wouldn’t pierce the tender pads of her paws. Apparently safety glass wasn’t a thing back in the 19th century when this building had been erected. Chris followed close behind her, with Dean and the witches after them and Itsuo bringing up the rear.
She poked her nose into the doorway and sniffed the air, picking Melinda, Dawn, and Adam’s scents out of the mix. The creatures that’d attacked them bore foul, unnatural scents that wound around the others like cloying perfume. Or, whatever the opposite of perfume was. Stanky skunk stench.
Otherwise, the
room smelled about as you’d expect for something buried underground for over a century. Stale and musty, with everything covered in dust. It wasn’t immediately apparent what kind of building it was; they were entering through a side entrance. Joey led the way down the short hallway, past a defunct old-fashioned service elevator to another hall that intersected at a T juncture. She sniffed left and right before confidently turning right and proceeding down the hall.
The light cast by two glowing witch balls held the pitch dark at bay, and Joey could clearly make out footprints on the dusty floor ahead of them—both shoe prints and the claw-tipped oversized treads of the she-creatures. She kept her ears perked, listening for any sound that might indicate an imminent attack, but the silence stretched on until her shoulders itched from the certainty that someone—or something—lay in wait somewhere.
When they finally reached the spot where the footsteps turned and disappeared under a closed set of double doors, Joey glanced behind her at the two-legs and motioned at the door with her head.
Dean stepped forward and signaled for everyone to stand out of line of sight of the door and tried the handle. It turned, and he pushed open the door carefully with an extended arm, keeping as much of his body as possible out of the doorway.
Nothing happened. Joey peered around the edge of the still-closed half of the double doors into the room beyond. The parquet floor in the hallway gave way to marble tile that stretched from wall to wall. Tall, arched windows spanned the wall opposite the door, too grimy to see what lay on the other side.
Cautiously, she stepped into the room. Chris bumped against her flanks as he followed closely. A row of cages lined the wall immediately to the left of the door. She counted two humanoid figures huddled in the backs of them and an inert furry mound, but most were empty.
“Yeah, I see them,” Dean said behind her.