I close my eyes. An hour later, sirens go off, and the room fills with their screaming blare.
The sun will be up in a few hours. It’s the perfect time to attack.
Marinah, in a whirlwind, can’t stay still. “Hurry, I didn’t bother taking off my boots, why did you?” she demands as I lace mine up.
“I don’t love and caress my boots as you do, and mine are good enough for the floor.”
“Argh,” she grumbles every five seconds until I’m ready and stomp out after her.
We run into Beck on our way. “Ships on the horizon. They are not moving closer.”
“They’ll release the hellhounds first. Are Cabel and his team clear of the water?” Marinah demands.
“Yes. Missy has the archers at the docks, waiting.”
“Have them shoot at will once they sight hellhounds coming in. I need to get to the armory, and then I’ll be at the shore. We’ll bomb their ships when I give the order.”
Beck runs the other direction, and we continue to the armory. Ruth and Che are asleep on cots. They were so tired; the sirens didn’t wake them. Marinah walks into the room, strides to Ruth, and removes the armory key from her fingers. She locks the metal door behind her when we leave.
“Have I ever told you that you are brilliant?”
“She’ll be angry but alive when this is over.” She tries to smile but worry holds her back. Once the battle starts, she’ll loosen up.
We head to the motorbikes next. For someone who was scared out of her mind the first time she rode passenger behind me, she’s a pro rider now. She revs the engine and takes off with spinning tires and a cloud of dust. I watch for a moment as she picks up speed and her braids flows behind her.
We reach the bay within a few minutes. Fifty Warriors stand by for Marinah’s command. The Federation ships are small pinpoints on the horizon. Marinah scans the water. “If we can see them, they can see us, and they know we’ve been alerted to their presence. As soon as they release the underwater hellhounds, we’ll send the planes in.” Marinah decided to forgo sending our planes out to sea before Federation ships hit our waters. I didn’t question her, and Beck was nowhere around when the decision was made. Marinah had a reason for doing it this way and I don’t need to understand.
We have four operational passenger planes and sixteen fighter jets. The downside is we only have six pilots. Shadow Warriors and humans are in training, but they aren’t ready. Like everything else in this new messed up world, we make do.
The hellhounds we moved to the bay will stay secured, and the Federation doesn’t know they’re here. We take the bikes again; the Warriors jump on theirs, and we head to the closest point where hellhounds will come on shore.
The beach is still; the waves break far from the shore. We wait.
It’s still dark when the ocean ripples beneath the surface. The hoard moves toward us, their waterlogged bodies uglier than usual. Some have moss hanging from their twisted limbs; others are chewed on by the ocean’s version of monsters. They move almost in unison as they lunge to shore. When they hit the beach, with no water to slow them down, they pick up speed. Marinah clicks her radio and orders the air attack against the Federation ships.
“Ready, baby?” she whispers beside me.
A flash of fangs is her answer. She shifts, adjusts her straps, and blows me a kiss with lips full of razor teeth. “Let’s kill hellhounds,” she says and charges. I run up behind her and use my legs to propel me up and over so I’m in the lead. “Show-off.” She laughs behind me as we do what we’re made for.
Kill, whispers Beast. I have no problem obliging.
I cleave the first hellhound from skull to shoulder with my sword. With a slight turn, I take the next one in the throat with the tip of my blade, driving completely through bone and cartilage. Its waterlogged body makes a strange sound as I sever the spinal column. Marinah has the mortuary sword over her head and takes out a hellhound. I turn to the next one.
The Shadow Warriors fight with us to dwindle the number of hellhounds. We make it look like we’re fighting for our lives while the exact opposite is true. We know the number and location of hounds placed by the Federation and we have the advantage. Knet spilled our secrets thinking we had no knowledge of the attack which gives us the edge we need. This battle is ours.
Explosions fill the sky in the distance which means one or more of our planes found their target. Our jets won’t be able to completely take out the heavily armed ships, but we need them to keep the Federation occupied until we’re ready for them.
After killing three additional hellhounds, I search for Marinah in the madness. Several hounds surround her. I expect her Nova to come out to play, but that doesn’t happen. With practiced skill, she rotates her hips and puts power behind each strike. One, two, three, they drop as she performs an amazing dance of skill and strength. Her body flows to the unseen rhythm of death. She doesn’t hesitate and knows when and where the next attack is coming from. A larger than average hellhound jumps at her from the side and her sword moves with lighting speed, driving in at an angle cleaving the hound in half.
She’s unstoppable because she trains every spare minute she has. The Warriors on the island will follow her into the depths of hell or a hoard of hellhounds. Place a weapon in her hands and she’ll annihilate her target. It’s who she is, and I could watch her fight for hours. She hasn’t been trained since infancy, but she handles herself like she has. It took me twice as long to develop her skill.
Marinah finally gives the signal to fall back. We run for the cliffs, and the archers take their place. They pepper the remaining hellhounds with arrows as we make our escape. We jump on the bikes and head to our next rallying point. About a mile through the winding twists and turns, a pack of waterlogged hellhounds blocks the road.
Marinah, with a bloodcurdling shout, picks up speed. At the last minute, she goes into a perfect slide, laying her bike down, taking out the front row of hellhounds like they’re bowling pins. We wear stretchy pants so we can shift easily. They only half protect her from road rash but she doesn’t care. The material shreds and hangs from one bloody thigh when she comes off the bike with her sword drawn. If I wouldn’t look foolish while she does all the work, I would stand back and simply admire her incredible beauty as she kills everything in her path. Unfortunately, hellhounds call and I need to pick up my tally or I will look foolish.
I take the hounds on two at a time. Our Warriors join the fight. Once the hoard is destroyed, we move to the next area. After two more changes in location, Marinah’s radio crackles.
“Inbound,” snaps out.
That’s our signal the Federation soldiers are moving in. “Do you think we took out enough hellhounds to make this work?” Marinah yells as we run for the bikes.
“Alpha One, do you copy?”
“Copy,” Marinah shouts into the microphone while running.
“Sub spotted near the inlet. Boats are storming Warrior Bay.”
“Heading in,” Marinah responds.
“It’s time to fly, baby. Eat my dust,” she says with a wicked grin and takes off.
I grin back. My mate is made for war. Her idea of flying is reaching over a hundred miles an hour on her bike. She laughs over the engine’s roar. The forty-five-minute ride takes sixteen.
Chapter Twenty
Marinah
Energy spikes through my blood as we travel the winding roads. I feel alive. There’s nothing left of the frightened young woman who clung to King on the back of his bike, holding on to a man she didn’t trust. That man, beside me now, is the reason I’m an entirely different person. My hands open and close on the motorbike’s handlebars in anticipation of the coming fight. Hellhounds are one thing, but humans are the real enemy—thinking, plotting, murdering humans. Bloodlust fills me. I’ll kill them all.
We hit the city and weave through the winding side streets at breakneck speed. I love the powerful rumble between my thighs, the tilt of the bike when I take
corners, and the feel of wind against my face. Who knew I would turn into a biker chick?
We glide through the open metal gates, abandoning the bikes, and head to the roof of the citadel at a full run. I shift to human form while Shadow Warriors and humans scramble out of our way. We crash through the roof’s door and charge to the outer wall. Missy and her group of archers move aside so we can see what holds their interest.
Small, lumpy boats skim the water.
“What’s inside the boats besides soldiers?” I ask sharply unable to make out the shapes.
“Field glasses,” King says. Someone at his side passes him a pair. He scans the ocean. “Those are LCVPs and they hold twelve-man squads with a vehicle. The vehicles appear to be tarped Jeeps, and from their height, they have firepower mounted on hardtops.”
As soon as the words leave King’s mouth, an explosion rocks the ground beneath our feet. I glance in the direction of the blast and see smoke about a mile north of us. They’re firing from the ships which means our planes didn’t do enough damage.
“How many boats or LCVPs do you count?” I yell at King when another explosion goes off south of us.
“Fifty.”
That’s six hundred men and fifty vehicles with advanced firepower.
Nokita comes up behind us. “When do you want the hellhounds in the Bay released?”
King hands me the field glasses and I take a peek. “The boats are coming in fast. We want the hounds ahead of them. Release them now,” I order.
Nokita raises his hand which is holding a small device that was once one of our radios. He smiles and hits the button. He lifts field glasses and we wait.
It takes a few minutes for the water to rumble as hellhounds find their feet and head in. There is a block wall located fifty yards from shore that holds the tide back during storms. The Warriors behind the walls begin signaling the hellhounds with their whistles when the first ones make land. They turn, wading back out as the boats move forward. Anyone watching from the Federation ships is now wondering where the hellhounds are coming from and command will be scrambling to figure out what went wrong. The more chaos we create, the better our chances. We don’t want to just win; we need to make a statement. This is our island and the Federation will not take it from us.
I turn to Missy who’s dressed in fatigues, her eyes showing full battle mode. “Are the archers ready?”
“Archers standby,” she says into her radio. “They’re ready.” Her pupils are small pinpoints of hate. She battled the Federation and hellhounds in the U.S. before mating with Beck and coming here. She will never go down without a fight.
“Have them fire at will as soon as the first boats reach shore,” I tell her. “They need to hustle here when Labyrinth’s men open fire.”
The boats are about fifty yards out now. King hooks his fingers into my leather backstrap, tightens the buckles, and bumps his body into mine. Besides making it easier for me to keep the straps up, his presence is comforting without giving those around us a heads-up that I need to be comforted by my mate. I’m terrified that we aren’t ready, and at the same time, I’m filled with anticipation.
When the boats are twenty yards from shore, they collide with hellhounds. It’s quickly apparent that at least one Federation soldier on each boat has a whistle. They hold the hellhounds back until our whistles begin a shrill, steady noise shriek.
The hounds, which aren’t known for military discipline, go crazy at the sound coming from alternating directions. We’ve been testing the whistles, and this is the best way to disrupt the organization they bring. Soldiers disappear over the sides of the boats as hellhounds try to climb on board. We hear the screams over the waves. I can also read the horror on their faces through my field glasses. The red stripes are doing their job today. They are the Federation’s fodder—non-skilled humans whose job it is to die. My stomach clenches over the fact that any one of those young men or women could have been me.
The soldiers manage to fight the hellhounds off while gaining ground and moving closer to shore. A few minutes later, they reach the edge of the beach and start pulling the tarps off their vehicles. Our archers open fire. For sixty seconds, thousands of arrows rain down on the surviving hellhounds and Federation soldiers, stopping them from unloading the vehicles.
At Missy’s command, the archers fall back and Shadow Warriors, from behind concrete barriers, open fire with Kalashnikov's machine guns. The Kalashnikov fires 600 rounds per minute and use 7.62×54mmR ammo which has the dual purpose of firing from the Kalashnikov and our sniper rifles. A shot by one of them will rip off half your head.
The Federation soldiers shoot back, but they’re also avoiding hellhounds made crazier by our whistles. They have little cover, and the sun is finally coming up behind us, putting us at an even greater advantage.
My radio crackles. “The Federation sub changed course. They’re disembarking soldiers a mile south of the citadel,” Cabel spits through the static.
I click the mic. “How far out?”
“The soldiers will hit shore in under ten minutes. If they head to you after that, it will take twenty minutes max.”
I give silent thanks to King and Beck for spending so much time shoving military tactics down my throat. “Be sure they head this way,” I order Cabel.
Our thinking was the main attack would be against the citadel because it’s our established stronghold. Knet also knew we would move the humans inside the walls if attack was imminent. We purposefully painted a huge target on the citadel, and we need the Federation to take the bait. If a little violent persuasion helps them along, Cabel will use it.
“Understood, out,” he replies.
“We’re ready, baby,” King assures me a second after the transmission ends. Another explosion rocks the area outside the citadel, closer this time.
I hit my radio again. “Axel, send the women and children below. You have fifteen minutes.”
“I’m ahead of you and we’re almost situated,” he answers.
Click. “Labyrinth, those planes need to do more damage. We don’t want the ships returning to the U.S. Either they sink or we destroy and salvage.”
Static again, followed by, “They hit one of our planes. We’re using the small sub for rescue. I’ll have my men take another pass at the ships.”
The connection breaks.
I glance at King. “We need to get down there.”
He waves his arm in a grand gesture. “After you, baby.”
I stick out my tongue and take off running. It’s finally time to fight humans.
We hit the main floor of the citadel. A few straggling women and children are headed to the stairs to get below ground. There are no windows in the basement area and the walls are reinforced. It’s the safest place for them.
A battalion of Shadow Warriors turns the corner led by Eagle, one of our best sniper shooters. He stops the troops in front of us. “Take your sniper post,” King tells him. The men built several sniper towers on the citadel roof, and Eagle will do the most damage from there. Eagle’s battalion follows King as we jog out front where more Shadow Warriors wait. The citadel stone tile echoes with the sound of our heavy boots, and my adrenaline skyrockets.
From the rumbling inside me, Ms. Beast is ready to explode. I hold her back while Eagle’s troops fall in line with the other Warriors. I glance up to see longbows and expectant faces in the windows above us where metal grates have been strategically placed to keep the archers safe. We’re as ready as we’ll ever be.
A shadow falls over me, and I look into King’s huge jaws. “You need to shift. I’ll loosen your straps.” His clawed hands are slightly clumsy when he unfastens the buckles. He runs a sharp claw along the bare skin on my back when finished. “One kiss and we’ll take up where we leave off when this is over.”
He says it like we’re going on an excursion through the park. I appreciate the light comment. I’m wound up so tight, I don’t think I can breathe. Now he wants a kiss and I can�
��t think of anything more delicious. I morph in his arms, growing in height, expanding in girth, and turning a flavor of ugly only a mate can appreciate. With my fangs in the way, I kiss him because he loves me in whatever form I take, and I love him.
My radio spits, “The artillery on the ships is keeping our planes back, but they’ve got one crippled ship so I’m changing the plan if my alpha approves. I’m tracking the sub and want to take it out.”
“Go for it,” I yell as another explosion rocks even closer. Once the Federation troops arrive on shore, their ships will stop bombing us.
My radio goes silent. At last, red stripes round the corner. I glance at King and he displays his wicked grin that screams killer on the loose. I return it. “It’s time to rock 'n' roll,” I yell at the Shadow Warriors. With a ferocious cry. I start running.
My powerful legs carry me into the middle of the first group of red stripes before they open fire. They go down like dominoes, falling into each other and scrambling to understand what just happened. The soldiers fire their weapons as Shadow Warriors take them down—a broken neck here, a disemboweled stomach there. Blood splatters across my face as I grab another soldier’s gun and ram it through his jaw. The vicious crack is barely heard over the fighting. I don’t have time to look for King, but I know he’s close. Ms. Beast is in her element, and her bloodlust has never been higher. I turn a quarter circle and take out another soldier. He’s young, too young. I don’t have time to analyze my feelings, but the pain on his terrified face stays with me as I spin and kill another soldier and then another.
Three red stripes jump on me and one rams his knife into my side. His head ends up twenty feet from his body after my jaws go through gristle and bone. My side is on fire but it’s not life-threatening. At least I don’t think it is, and I don’t have time to worry. The other two men are tossed in the direction of the head. I don’t watch them land, knowing broken bones will keep them from causing additional trouble if they manage to survive the cement splat.
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