Consumed

Chapter 17

At yet another Kurjan encampment miles south of the last one, Kalin leaned against a pine tree and out of the rain. Night had arrived quietly. Clouds filled the sky, so the werewolves were easier to handle. Even so, they tilted their heads up, wailing softly as if they knew the celestial light hid out of reach.

Except for Jack.

Jack sat on a fallen tree, his legs extended, the rain matting his fur. He kept his yellow gaze on the trees to the north, ears up.

Interesting. Intense focus had ridden the werewolf all day. Well, from Kalin’s vantage point in the secure building, it had seemed Jack had been preoccupied. When was Kalin’s uncle going to find the cure for sunlight? He was so tired of living in darkness.

Though he and Roy had found some fun before dawn. A group of women they’d stalked and terrorized through a town to the east. Unfortunately, the sun had begun to rise, so they had to end the game and head home.

He kept his gaze on the creature, welcoming the cold bite of wind carrying rain.

Jack sprang to his feet. Hair bristled all down his back. Emitting a growl, he took a step toward a stand of silent Douglas firs.

Kalin settled his hand around the top of the electric prod. Movement filtered through the thick trees. He sidled away from the pine, searching the recesses of the forest.

A werewolf limped into the clearing. Broad across the chest, taller than Jack, the brute bled from his neck and shoulder. His yellow eyes took in the werewolves on the ground, Jack, and finally Kalin.

Jack growled, muscles bunching.

“Stop.” Kalin sidled into the wet brush, keeping Jack between him and the newcomer. Rain smashed into his face. “Fall in!”

The werewolves scrambled into position behind Jack. After years of torture, starvation, and rewards, the beasts had finally learned the score. They deserved to have some fun. Kalin waited for the new werewolf to attack.

Yet the monster kept his gaze on Kalin. The werewolf angled his head to the side, sniffing the air. “Kurrrrjaaaaan.”

Kalin froze. He exhaled. “Say that again.”

The animal curled its upper lip. “Kurrrrjaaaaan. You. Kurrrrjaaaaan.”

So, this was new. Kalin rubbed his chin. “Yes. Apparently you can speak.” Made sense. Jack had evolved in the short time Kalin had been training him. Evolution included speech. The new creature must’ve been infected years ago. “You have a name?”

“Brennnt.”

Jack shuffled his feet, looking over his shoulder at Kalin. Waiting for the attack command.

Kalin needed to call Erik with the update. The breeze picked up, carrying the scent of wet dog, rain, and ... shifter. “You been in a fight, Brent?”

“Yesss. Wanted Kaattieee. Vampires got in way.” Brent surveyed Jack head to toe. With a shrug of indifference, he turned back to Kalin. “Kaattieee mine. Not Jordan’s. Jordan bad. Katie miiiine.”

Milton jumped out of the building to the side, and Kalin motioned him to stay still. No need to spook the beast. “Are you talking about Jordan Pride?” Wasn’t the infected lioness named Katie? His sources claimed she was Pride’s mate. “Pride has been infected by the virus.” While Kalin hadn’t been there at the time, he’d read the reports. The leader of the lions would soon turn into a hairy beast.

“Yes. Jordan baaaaad.” Brent howled, the sound full of pain and anger. “Killed me. Killed my brother. Needs tooooo die.”

Kalin clucked his tongue. “Well, we are hitting Realm Headquarters tomorrow. The moon is full soon, you know.” They had over a hundred miles to travel in preparation, and he needed the werewolves steady. He tightened his hold on the deadly prod. “But we’re only taking the best. You’re injured.” Tilting his head, he gave Jack a nod.

With a yowl from hell, Jack sprang.

Brent pivoted, much too quickly for an animal, and shot a sidekick into Jack’s gut. An actual sidekick.

Kalin frowned. The implications of the beast’s development were staggering.

Two more animals rushed Brent, and he clapped their heads together. The sound of melons bursting echoed through the rain. Thunder rumbled in the distance, matching the roar from the monster.

Jack scrambled off the ground, fury turning his eyes red.

Just as he bunched to lunge, Kalin let out a short whistle. All eyes turned to him. “Enough.” Jerking his head toward Brent, he let his fangs drop. “You’ll do. There’s meat coming for you—get your strength back. I have plans for you, friend.”

The werewolf shook rain off his fur. “I’ll helllpp. But Jordaaaan mine.”

“Fair enough.” Kalin nodded for Milton to fetch the raw meat. “Talen Kayrs is mine.”

His second returned with many Kurjans pushing wheelbarrows of raw meat and blood toward the beasts. Jack grabbed his own and wheeled over to a tree, turning his back on Brent. Kalin fought the urge to roll his eyes. The werewolf was put out.

Wiping rain off his brow, Kalin stalked toward the windowless building where he and the other Kurjans laid low during the day. Quick movements had him inside and down a flight of stairs to his private quarters. A panic room of all panic rooms, no sunlight could get in. Even if fire consumed the first floor, he had a way out.

Locking his door, he stretched his neck and wrung out his black/red hair. He’d dyed the mass all black as a kid, thinking he’d look human. Turned out he didn’t want to look human.

Shrugging off his jacket, he dropped to the bunk. The cheap springs protested. Besides the bed, a dingy night table and coat rack adorned the room. Dirt covered the floor, and Sheetrock made up the walls. Well, except for the one area where he could escape if necessary.

After he took out Realm Headquarters, he was heading for luxury. Somewhere he could hunt for days on end—maybe a female shifter or two. Or a witch. He’d love to find a good female witch to hunt and destroy. Now that’d be a worthwhile game. He’d never fucked a witch. Or a demon. Female demons were almost impossible to find considering they were so few and far between. Man, finding and battling one would be a good time.

With a sigh, he reached under the mattress to drag out a battered sketch pad and flip over the cover.

“Hello, Janie.” Sketch after sketch of the intriguing female flipped by as he ran through the pages. Janie as a little girl who had let him into her dreams. Janie as a woman—beautiful with such intuition in her blue eyes. He might not have her psychic powers, but the future sometimes granted him a glimpse.

He paused at a page where he’d drawn her as a teenager. Probably what she looked like that very day. Running a finger down her pert nose, he frowned.

The girl was likely at headquarters. Oddly enough, he had no interest in meeting her. Yet.

Kurjan oracles had declared Janet Kayrs the key to the future—the key to the future for them all. If she was at headquarters, he’d have to kidnap her. The question of where to put her had kept him awake for several nights. He wanted nothing to do with a teenaged human girl.

They were destined, and when the time was right, when she reached adulthood and could fight him, then he’d take her.

The idea that he’d have to protect her until then provided an irony that had him clenching his teeth together. As prophesied, she’d be in danger, even from his people, until he made his claim. Something he had no intention of doing until she could provide some challenge. Once she became a woman, she’d have impressive strength and make the battle worth his time.

As a child, she’d tried to be his friend. Even worse, she’d tempted him to be something he wasn’t. To be decent. Some days, when his shoulders slumped, when his gut ached from training, when exhaustion made him sway on his feet, he could almost see the road he hadn’t taken. Almost wish. For that, she would one day pay.

Dearly.