Nomad Omnibus 03: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus)

by Craig Martelle

  Cory dropped her pack as she neared, looking at Petricia as she kneeled by her side. Cory examined the Forsaken to best determine which injuries to heal first, then she began methodically tackling the wounds.

  No one said a word.

  Terry stalked up and down the alley, fury rising within him. They’d been ambushed. The Weres were back and they had just declared war on Terry Henry Walton.

  Petricia’s eyes opened briefly and then closed. Cory cradled her head, stroking the Forsaken’s cheeks.

  When her eyes opened again, they were clear. She blinked as she looked from one face to the next. “What happened?” she mumbled.

  “That’s our question for you,” Char said as Terry leaned over her shoulder, focused like a laser on Petricia’s next words.

  “Werewolves lured us through here. It was a trap,” she managed to say, breathing heavily from her exertions.

  “Take it easy. Relax. There’s no hurry.

  Footsteps hammered their way into the alley. Kurtz had arrived. He joined Destiny in sucking wind, trying to collect his wits so he could contribute, do whatever he was ordered to do, whatever needed to be done.

  Shonna called out from the top of the rubble pile. “I have them.”

  “Are you going to be okay if we leave you here?” Terry asked. Char looked angrily at him, but understood. There was nothing else they could do for her.

  Cory’s eyes drooped from her efforts. “You stay here with them,” Terry told his daughter. “Ramses, Joseph, with us. You two. Protect them with your lives.”

  Joseph’s head lolled on his neck. Terry left him. Ramses stood and nodded. Tyson Kurtz and Destiny Chase brought their weapons to the front and took up positions on either side of Cory, Joseph, and Petricia.

  Terry, Char, Sarah, and Ramses picked their way over the rubble and into the street beyond. Merrit was holding Shonna’s clothes while she sniffed the ground, having changed into a shaggy brown Werewolf. She howled at the crescent moon crossing the night sky before racing ahead, following the scent of the enemy.

  The others ran behind, staying close and watching. Ramses stayed within arm’s length of Sarah. They were all in danger, and he couldn’t let anything happen to his daughter.

  Japan

  It had been two weeks and Marcie had yet to say a word besides her initial greeting to Akio. She wasn’t allowed to speak until her mind calmed sufficiently.

  She was still meditating, walking in the garden, or sleeping. That was all Akio allowed her to do. He would guide her meditations, and then leave her alone. Those periods extended or contracted. She never knew how long she was meditating. She was sleep-deprived and her body ached to do something other than sit.

  When the next session ended, she headed for the garden. She decided to run laps.

  Akio intercepted her. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She raised one eyebrow in question.

  “Yes, you may speak.”

  “Akio-sama,” she croaked before coughing and clearing her throat. “The more I do nothing, the more my body craves something to do.”

  “Meditating is not doing nothing,” Akio replied tersely.

  Marcie bowed her head. “I meant physically. My mind races. My body needs to run. I humbly ask your permission to work out in conjunction with my meditation.”

  Akio critically looked at her before diving deeply into her mind. The storm of her thoughts refused to calm. Her body screamed at her, turning the storm into a hurricane, keeping her from clearing away the clouds.

  “Yes, Marcie-san, you may. No sparring, but the obstacle course and calisthenics. Please.” He swept his hand by, pointing the way to where she wanted to go and allowing her to pass.

  She grinned and bolted on her way to the obstacle course, running through it and over it. Doing burpees by the hundreds. Then sit-ups and more calisthenics. Akio could feel the joy she radiated.

  Yuko stood at his side and watched. “Have you ever seen anything like her?”

  Akio smiled. “She reminds me of somebody, yes. When she is sufficiently tired, we shall see if she has better control over her mind. I suspect the answer is yes, when most others, the answer would be no.”

  “Each person is unique. Each trains according to where they are best served. Each stands alone.” Yuko bowed and excused herself. She had a sparring session with Eve planned using kendo swords. She refused to be late.

  “Each stands alone,” Akio replied.

  Chicago

  Shonna stopped, sniffed the ground, then the air, then circled as she looked for the trail. She turned her shaggy head toward her mate and started to whimper.

  Char closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to sense those with etheric abilities. She discovered them, high above. “Look out!” she yelled and waved the others to follow her.

  They ran, not knowing why.

  Nothing happened, but they trusted their alpha and accepted that she had somehow protected them.

  They huddled around the corner. Shonna changed back into human form and dressed as Char talked.

  “They are on the upper floors. There’s a group of three up top and three more climbing. I’m not sure the two groups are related, though. It looks like a fight is brewing.”

  “Then we better get up there,” Terry growled. “We don’t want the good guys to lose. Shonna, can you recognize the three you’ve been chasing?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she replied, nodding. Terry slapped her shoulder and ran along the wall, looking for a way into the high-rise where the Werewolves had taken refuge. He was curious about the newcomers. He pulled his pistol, checked the safety with his thumb to make sure it was on, and then ran like the wind.

  The others followed single file as he waved Char into the lead. She could do things he couldn’t, like sense exactly where the others were. Char flowed past, took a sharp turn as she crashed through a doorway and hit the steps at a full sprint as she headed upward, vaulting three at a time as she climbed.

  ***

  Joseph stood, looked at Petricia. “I’m so sorry, my love,” he told her.

  Tears rolled down her face. “I can’t imagine,” she whispered.

  “It’s time for us to go,” he said as he prepared to pick her up.

  “Are you supposed to leave?” Destiny asked, looking at the Forsaken. Her eyes darted to Cordelia, who was half-lying against a wall and sound asleep.

  “We are free to do as we wish. Protect her. That is your mission now. And give these to the colonel, with our regrets.” Joseph handed the private two communication devices. He leaned back down and took Petricia into his arms.

  He stood, turned, and walked away. She sobbed with her head nestled into his shoulder. His chest heaved as he joined his wife in crying through his pain.

  Kurtz watched them pass, unsure of what to do. Forsaken who were too distraught to carry on. He never imagined that such a thing could happen.

  Joseph continued down the alley and disappeared into the darkness.

  Kurtz looked to Cory and then at Destiny. He caught the movement over her shoulder.

  “Look out!” Kurtz yelled as the Werewolf leapt.

  ***

  Char and Terry raced past the first ten floors before slowing down. Char signaled that they were getting close. Shonna, Merrit, Sarah, and Ramses were close behind, climbing as quietly as they could.

  The snarling from up ahead said that the fight was underway. Terry surged ahead with Char right on his heels, both pistols out and fingers caressing the triggers as TH told her not to do.

  They burst through the door and ran down a short hallway, then into an open area where a three on three Werewolf fight was underway. Terry took aim, but hesitated to fire. Char panned her pistols back and forth, unable to know which target she wanted to shoot at. The others joined them.

  Shonna and Merrit were unarmed, but Ramses and Sarah carried their rifles. He took a knee at Terry’s side, aimed, and waited for the Were that would emerge as an enemy. Sarah assumed h
er firing position on Char’s side.

  Neither had any idea how they would be able to tell good from bad.

  Shonna sniffed the air. She’d been trailing them and could tell the scents apart. She could have been a gifted hunter, but had never felt the thrill. “The three are in there. We need them to separate before I can be sure,” Shonna told them as the fur was flying and bodies were being thrown around.

  “Fuck this,” Terry grumbled, putting his pistol away and pulling his sword.

  Char covered him as he waded forward.

  “STOP!” he bellowed. A fighting pair separated in a moment of the fight. Terry thrust his sword between them. “I said FUCKING STOP!”

  One Were snapped at him, so he slapped its snout with the flat of his blade. The other snapped. “Which one?” Terry yelled over his shoulder, keeping the two Werewolves apart.

  Shonna eased closer. “Left,” she said.

  Terry turned, ignoring the Werewolf to his right. He charged left, forcing the Were backwards. It snapped and snarled as it tried to get past the point of his blade.

  “Change into human form,” he ordered. It growled at him. He slashed, skipping the blade across the Werewolf’s head, cleanly removing part of its scalp and one ear.

  It yipped and lunged at Terry Henry. He drove the point of his Mameluke through its chest as he turned, letting the beast’s momentum carry it past. He rotated his wrist and arm, yanking his silvered sword free. The Werewolf flopped twice on the floor and exhaled one last time.

  Terry looked toward the next pair as the tac team spread out behind him, cutting off any escape.

  The Were that Shonna had designated as a non-enemy changed into human form. He was a very old man, still breathing heavily from his fight. “Thank you,” he said, before sitting next to the carcass of his enemy.

  Terry didn’t bother with a reply. His focus was elsewhere.

  ***

  Cory shot upright at the first warning yell, but wasn’t able to move before the fight started.

  Destiny turned and ducked, only her lightning quick gymnastic skills saving her from getting her head bitten off. The Werewolf settled for a mouthful of shoulder, biting deeply as it spun through the air.

  The warrior wasn’t heavy enough to remain upright as the Werewolf flew by and she was pulled off her feet. She flailed with one arm and two legs as the Werewolf hit heavily and clamped down on her shoulder. The breaking bones sent a shockwave of pain through her body.

  Destiny Chase screamed in agony.

  Tyson aimed his rifle, but the pair was twisting and turning. He couldn’t get a clean shot. He angled away to keep Cory out of his line of fire. He stalked sideways, watching over the barrel with both eyes, looking for an opening so he could squeeze off a round to free the other human from the Were’s bite.

  The Werewolf had other ideas. It threw its head backwards, lifting Destiny off her feet. The woman screamed again, bloodcurdling in its terror and pain.

  The woman was thrown into the air. Kurtz fired, hitting the creature in the chest. It flinched, but still caught the young woman as she fell. It bit into her stomach and then rushed toward Tyson, using its prey like a shield.

  He ducked and dodged, but the only thing exposed was its legs. Kurtz swung his rifle like a club, hitting a foreleg and knocking the Werewolf over. It rolled and turned, standing on three legs, an unconscious Destiny still in its mouth.

  ***

  “Which one?” Terry asked, not taking his eyes from the two combatants.

  “Can’t tell yet.” Shonna leaned over his shoulder.

  Terry yelled his war cry and charged, slamming bodily into the Werewolves and forcing them apart. He stood between them, whirling a dangerous figure eight around himself.

  “That one,” Shonna said confidently. Terry turned toward his enemy. The other Werewolf jumped on Terry’s back.

  He hadn’t been ready for the attack, but his training and reflexes were honed to near vampiric speed. He shrugged, twisted, caught a handful of fur, and punched the Were in the side of the head with the cross guard of his Mameluke.

  He threw the stunned beast aside. He still hadn’t taken his eyes from his enemy. “You killed one of my friends,” he told it. “Change into human form. NOW!”

  It bared its fangs and looked back and forth, before realizing that it was trapped. A new enemy had appeared and they were far greater than the pack of oldsters they had attacked.

  He shimmered for a moment and then stood there, in his naked glory.

  “Fucking Jonas!” Char shouted, throwing a table aside as she rushed forward.

  “Sucks to be you,” Terry said softly.

  The pistol’s report made him wince. The bullet passed too close for Terry’s comfort before slamming into Jonas’s chest. The next two rounds tore his head apart. Char jumped over the staggering Werewolf and straddled Jonas, emptying both pistols into his corpse.

  Terry turned to the last pair, who were no longer fighting but watching. They were standing apart. “One of you killed my friend, and the other is free to go,” Terry told them as he walked their way, tapping the flat side of his sword blade against his hand.

  “Shonna?”

  One Werewolf jumped behind the other. The second tried to move away. “The one acting guilty,” she replied.

  “Change into human form or I will cut your legs off one by one,” Terry said plainly.

  The creature hesitated before resuming its human form. A young-looking woman appeared before them. She stood angling to give Terry the best view of her body.

  “Not impressed,” he deadpanned. “Why?”

  “Why what?” she replied seductively, her tongue tracing a slow line around her lips.

  “You killed my friend. The last thing I want is to have sex with you. I’d be just as happy taking your head off right now, but I’d like some answers. What you say will determine how long you get to live,” Terry explained, drawing in the air with the tip of his sword.

  She glared for a moment. Char moved forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with Terry.

  “The purple-eyed Werewolf,” the woman said. “I’d heard stories, but I didn’t think they were true.”

  Terry pointed his sword at her. “Why?”

  “We’re trying to secure our territory. We set a trap and your pet Forsaken walked into it. Simple as that.” She crossed her arms and stood tall in defiance.

  “Why was this group here, fighting you?”

  She shrugged.

  “I’ll tell you why,” a new voice offered. Terry didn’t look away from the Were bitch.

  “Pray, continue,” he told the voice.

  “The territory they were trying to carve out was from ours. We’re just trying to keep the peace while this bunch only wanted power.”

  “Jonas told us that this area was ripe for the taking. It seems like he was mistaken. You’ve made him pay for his transgression. Good riddance, I say. He was horrible in bed, too,” the Were bitch said, arms still crossed as she looked from the other Were to Terry and back. “We acted on bad information. It doesn’t make us bad, just poor judges of who we should trust.”

  Terry nodded to Char to watch the Were bitch. He turned toward the other man whose pack had joined him. Three Weres, older, one much older.

  “Where did you come from?” Terry asked.

  “Way north, north of Hudson Bay. We stayed for a long time, until it started to get cold again. Chicago seemed like a good place to call home, so here we are,” the old Werewolf explained. “I wanted a good place for my daughter, Jacqueline, to learn honor, understand how we can blend in with humanity, be at peace outside the Unknown World.”

  “I like you,” Terry replied, guiding the tip of his sword with one hand over his shoulder and into its scabbard. He slid the Mameluke home. “Do you want to take care of this thing? I’d like to get back to my friends. I think they need help.”

  “If I may ask a great warrior like yourself, who are you?” The old man bowed his h
ead slightly as he asked his question.

  “I’m Terry Henry Walton, but my friends call me TH.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Chicago

  “I’m Charumati.” She stepped forward to shake the oldster’s hand.

  “Terrence and Charlita,” he said softly, as if remembering something from long ago.

  “Terry and Char,” she said their names, turning to look at her husband. Terry wasn’t as quick to judge.

  “That’s what they go by, too. Good kids. They have a great future with the North American Pack Council.”

  “NAPC is operating?” Char had been a member in good standing when she lived in New York City with the pack.

  “Sure. The alpha is a big male, goes by Joshua. Joshua Timmons.”

  Char’s jaw dropped to the floor. Terry shuffled uncomfortably, looking for something else to do. Shonna and Merrit looked shocked. Ramses and Sarah finally slung their rifles and stood casually.

  Terry held up a finger. “I need to check in with our other team.” He mashed some buttons on his device and waited.

  Terry looked at it. Cory wasn’t answering. He called Joseph, and then Petricia. No answer. Char had turned her full attention to Terry’s actions as he punched buttons with greater and greater speed.

  He called Kurtz and then called Destiny.

  “No,” he whispered, before finding his voice. “Watch them and recall all tac teams to our pos!” he ordered Shonna and Merrit as he vaulted obstacles on his way to the stairs. Char was right behind him with Ramses and Sarah sprinting after them.

  ***

  The Werewolf charged Kurtz again and he held it off a second time. He looked for a way to get a clean shot, aiming over the top of the barrel as he moved, never crossing his feet.

  The Were charged, throwing Destiny’s body at him. He tried to dodge, but the body hit him in the chest. The Werewolf grabbed Tyson’s rifle in its mouth, twisted, and ripped it free of the sling. Kurtz staggered backward, pushing Destiny from him and ignoring the sickening splat as she hit the ground.